The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXI.

  "Speed! Malise, speed! such cause of haste Thine active sinews never braced." --Scott.

  The roads of Otsego, if we except the principal high ways, were, at theearly day of our tale, but little better than wood-paths. The high treesthat were growing on the very verge of the wheel-tracks excluded thesun's rays, unless at meridian; and the slowness of the evaporation,united with the rich mould of vegetable decomposition that coveredthe whole country to the depth of several inches, occasioned but anindifferent foundation for the footing of travellers. Added to thesewere the inequalities of a natural surface, and the constant recurrenceof enormous and slippery roots that were laid bare by the removal of thelight soil, together with stumps of trees, to make a passage notonly difficult but dangerous. Yet the riders among these numerousobstructions, which were such as would terrify an unpracticed eye,gave no demonstrations of uneasiness as their horses toiled through thesloughs or trotted with uncertain paces along the dark route. In manyplaces the marks on the trees were the only indications of a road, withperhaps an occasional remnant of a pine that, by being cut close to theearth, so as to leave nothing visible but its base of roots, spreadingfor twenty feet in every direction, was apparently placed there as abeacon to warn the traveller that it was the centre of a highway.

  Into one of these roads the active sheriff led the way, first strikingout of the foot-path, by which they had descended from the sugar-bush,across a little bridge, formed of round logs laid loosely on sleepers ofpine, in which large openings of a formidable width were frequent. Thenag of Richard, when it reached one of these gaps, laid its nose alongthe logs and stepped across the difficult passage with the sagacity of aman; but the blooded filly which Miss Temple rode disdained so humble amovement. She made a step or two with an unusual caution, and then,on reaching the broadest opening, obedient to the curt and whip ofher fearless mistress, she bounded across the dangerous pass with theactivity of a squirrel.

  "Gently, gently, my child," said Marmaduke, who was following in themanner of Richard; "this is not a country for equestrian feats. Muchprudence is requisite to journey through our rough paths with safety.Thou mayst practise thy skill in horsemanship on the plains of NewJersey with safety; but in the hills of Otsego they may be suspended fora time."

  "I may as well then relinquish my saddle at once, dear sir," returnedhis daughter; "for if it is to be laid aside until this wild country beimproved, old age will overtake me, and put an end to what you term myequestrian feats."

  "Say not so, my child," returned her father; "but if thou venturestagain as in crossing this bridge, old age will never overtake thee, butI shall be left to mourn thee, cut off in thy pride, my Elizabeth. Ifthou hadst seen this district of country, as I did, when it lay in thesleep of nature, and bad witnessed its rapid changes as it awoke tosupply the wants of man, thou wouldst curb thy impatience for a littletime, though thou shouldst not check thy steed."

  "I recollect hearing you speak of your first visit to these woods,but the impression is faint, and blended with the confused images ofchildhood. Wild and unsettled as it may yet seem, it must have been athousand times more dreary then. Will you repeat, dear sir, what youthen thought of your enterprise, and what you felt?"

  During this speech of Elizabeth, which was uttered with the fervor ofaffection, young Edwards rode more closely to the side of the Judge, andbent his dark eyes on his countenance with an expression that seemed toread his thoughts.

  "Thou wast then young, my child, but must remember when I left thee andthy mother, to take my first survey of these uninhabited mountains,"said Marmaduke. "But thou dost not feel all the secret motives that canurge a man to endure privations in order to accumulate wealth. In mycase they have not been trifling, and God has been pleased to smileon my efforts. If I have encountered pain, famine, and disease inaccomplishing the settlement of this rough territory, I have not themisery of failure to add to the grievances."

  "Famine!" echoed Elizabeth; "I thought this was the land of abundance!Had you famine to contend with?"

  "Even so, my child," said her father. "Those who look around them now,and see the loads of produce that issue out of every wild path in thesemountains during the season of travelling, will hardly credit that nomore than five years have elapsed since the tenants of these woods werecompelled to eat the scanty fruits of the forest to sustain life, and,with their unpracticed skill, to hunt the beasts as food for theirstarving families."

  "Ay!" cried Richard, who happened to overhear the last of this speechbetween the notes of the wood-chopper's song, which he was endeavoringto breathe aloud; "that was the starving-time,* Cousin Bess. I grewas lank as a weasel that fall, and my face was as pale as one of yourfever-and-ague visages. Monsieur Le Quoi, there, fell away like apumpkin in drying; nor do I think you have got fairly over it yet,monsieur. Benjamin, I thought, bore it with a worse grace than any ofthe family; for he swore it was harder to endure than a short allowancein the calm latitudes. Benjamin is a sad fellow to swear if you starvehim ever so little. I had half a mind to quit you then, 'Duke, and togo into Pennsylvania to fatten; but, damn it, thinks I, we are sisters'children, and I will live or die with him, after all."

  * The author has no better apology for interrupting the interest of a work of fiction by these desultory dialogues than that they have ref- erence to facts. In reviewing his work, after so many years, he is compelled to confess it is injured by too many allusions to incidents that are not at all suited to satisfy the just expectations of the general reader. One of these events is slightly touched on in the commencement of this chapter.

  More than thirty years since a very near and dear relative of thewriter, an elder sister and a second mother, was killed by a fall from ahorse in a ride among the very mountains mentioned in this tale. Fewof her sex and years were more extensively known or more universallybeloved than the admirable woman who thus fell a victim to the chancesof the wilderness. "I do not forget thy kindness," said Marmaduke, "northat we are of one blood."

  "But, my dear father," cried the wondering Elizabeth, "was there actualsuffering? Where were the beautiful and fertile vales of the Mohawk?Could they not furnish food for your wants?"

  "It was a season of scarcity; the necessities of life commanded a highprice in Europe, and were greedily sought after by the speculators. Theemigrants from the East to the West invariably passed along the valleyof the Mohawk, and swept away the means of subsistence like a swarm oflocusts, Nor were the people on the Flats in a much better condition.They were in want themselves, but they spared the little excess ofprovisions that nature did not absolutely require, with the justiceof the German character. There was no grinding of the poor. The wordspeculator was then unknown to them. I have seen many a stout man,bending under the load of the bag of meal which he was carrying from themills of the Mohawk, through the rugged passes of these mountains, tofeed his half-famished children, with a heart so light, as he approachedhis hut, that the thirty miles he had passed seemed nothing. Remember,my child, it was in our very infancy; we had neither mills, nor grain,nor roads, nor often clearings; we had nothing of increase but themouths that were to be fed: for even at that inauspicious moment therestless spirit of emigration was not idle; nay, the generalscarcity which extended to the East tended to increase the number ofadventurers."

  "And how, dearest father, didst thou encounter this dreadful evil?"said Elizabeth, unconsciously adopting the dialect of her parent in thewarmth of her sympathy. "Upon thee must have fallen the responsibility,if not the suffering."

  "It did, Elizabeth," returned the Judge, pausing for a single moment, asif musing on his former feelings. "I had hundreds at that dreadful timedaily looking up to me for bread. The sufferings of their families andthe gloomy prospect before them had paralyzed the enterprise and effortsof my settlers; hunger drove them to the woods for food, but despairsent them at night, enfeebled and wan, to a sleepless pillow. It was nota moment for in action. I purchased c
argoes of wheat from the granariesof Pennsylvania; they were landed at Albany and brought up the Mohawk inboats; from thence it was transported on pack-horses into the wildernessand distributed among my people. Seines were made, and the lakes andrivers were dragged for fish. Something like a miracle was wroughtin our favor, for enormous shoals of herrings were discovered to havewandered five hundred miles through the windings of the impetuousSusquehanna, and the lake was alive with their numbers. These were atlength caught and dealt out to the people, with proper portions of salt,and from that moment we again began to prosper." *

  * All this was literally true.

  "Yes," cried Richard, "and I was the man who served out the fish andsalt. When the poor devils came to receive their rations, Benjamin, whowas my deputy, was obliged to keep them off by stretching ropes aroundme, for they smelt so of garlic, from eating nothing but the wild onion,that the fumes put me out often in my measurement. You were a childthen, Bess, and knew nothing of the matter, for great care was observedto keep both you and your mother from suffering. That year put me backdreadfully, both in the breed of my hogs and of my turkeys."

  "No, Bess," cried the Judge, in a more cheerful tone, disregarding theinterruption of his cousin, "he who hears of the settlement of a countryknows but little of the toil and suffering by which it is accomplished.Unimproved and wild as this district now seems to your eyes, what wasit when I first entered the hills? I left my party, the morning ofmy arrival, near the farms of the Cherry Valley, and, following adeer-path, rode to the summit of the mountain that I have since calledMount Vision; for the sight that there met my eyes seemed to me as thedeceptions of a dream. The fire had run over the pinnacle, and in agreat measure laid open the view. The leaves were fallen, and I mounteda tree and sat for an hour looking on the silent wilderness. Not anopening was to be seen in the boundless forest except where the lakelay, like a mirror of glass. The water was covered by myriads of thewild-fowl that migrate with the changes in the season; and while inmy situation on the branch of the beech, I saw a bear, with her cubs,descend to the shore to drink. I had met many deer, gliding through thewoods, in my journey; but not the vestige of a man could I trace duringmy progress, nor from my elevated observatory. No clearing, no hut, noneof the winding roads that are now to be seen, were there; nothing butmountains rising behind mountains; and the valley, with its surface ofbranches enlivened here and there with the faded foliage of some treethat parted from its leaves with more than ordinary reluctance. Even theSusquehanna was then hid by the height and density of the forest."

  "And were you alone?" asked Elizabeth: "passed you the night in thatsolitary state?"

  "Not so, my child," returned the father. "After musing on the scene foran hour, with a mingled feeling of pleasure and desolation, I left myperch and descended the mountain. My horse was left to browse on thetwigs that grew within his reach, while I explored the shores of thelake and the spot where Templeton stands. A pine of more than ordinarygrowth stood where my dwelling is now placed! A wind--row had beenopened through the trees from thence to the lake, and my view was butlittle impeded. Under the branches of that tree I made my solitarydinner. I had just finished my repast as I saw smoke curling fromunder the mountain, near the eastern bank of the lake. It was the onlyindication of the vicinity of man that I had then seen. After muchtoil I made my way to the spot, and found a rough cabin of logs, builtagainst the foot of a rock, and bearing the marks of a tenant, though Ifound no one within it--"

  "It was the hut of Leather-Stocking," said Edwards quickly.

  "It was; though I at first supposed it to be a habitation of theIndians. But while I was lingering around the spot Natty made hisappearance, staggering under the carcass of a buck that he had slain.Our acquaintance commenced at that time; before, I had never heard thatsuch a being tenanted the woods. He launched his bark canoe and set meacross the foot of the lake to the place where I had fastened my horse,and pointed out a spot where he might get a scanty browsing untilthe morning; when I returned and passed the night in the cabin of thehunter."

  Miss Temple was so much struck by the deep attention of young Edwardsduring this speech that she forgot to resume her interrogations; but theyouth himself continued the discourse by asking:

  "And how did the Leather-Stocking discharge the duties of a host sir?"

  "Why, simply but kindly, until late in the evening, when he discoveredmy name and object, and the cordiality of his manner very sensiblydiminished, or, I might better say, disappeared. He considered theintroduction of the settlers as an innovation on his rights, I believefor he expressed much dissatisfaction at the measure, though it was inhis confused and ambiguous manner. I hardly understood his objectionsmyself, but supposed they referred chiefly to an interruption of thehunting."

  "Had you then purchased the estate, or were you examining it with anintent to buy?" asked Edwards, a little abruptly.

  "It had been mine for several years. It was with a view to People theland that I visited the lake. Natty treated me hospitably, but coldly,I thought, after he learned the nature of my journey. I slept on his ownbear--skin, however, and in the morning joined my surveyors again."

  "Said he nothing of the Indian rights, sir? The Leather-Stocking is muchgiven to impeach the justice of the tenure by which the whites hold thecountry."

  "I remember that he spoke of them, but I did not nearly comprehendhim, and may have forgotten what he said; for the Indian title wasextinguished so far back as the close of the old war, and if it had notbeen at all, I hold under the patents of the Royal Governors, confirmedby an act of our own State Legislature, and no court in the countrycan affect my title."

  "Doubtless, sir, your title is both legal and equitable," returned theyouth coldly, reining his horse back and remaining silent till thesubject was changed.

  It was seldom Mr. Jones suffered any conversation to continue for agreat length of time without his participation. It seems that he wasof the party that Judge Temple had designated as his surveyors; andhe embraced the opportunity of the pause that succeeded the retreat ofyoung Edwards to take up the discourse, and with a narration of theirfurther proceedings, after his own manner. As it wanted, however, theinterest that had accompanied the description of the Judge, we mustdecline the task of committing his sentences to paper.

  They soon reached the point where the promised view was to be seen.It was one of those picturesque and peculiar scenes that belong to theOtsego, but which required the absence of the ice and the softness of asummer's landscape to be enjoyed in all its beauty. Marmaduke hadearly forewarned his daughter of the season, and of its effect on theprospect; and after casting a cursory glance at its capabilities, theparty returned homeward, perfectly satisfied that its beauties wouldrepay them for the toil of a second ride at a more propitious season.

  "The spring is the gloomy time of the American year," said the Judge,"and it is more peculiarly the case in these mountains. The winter seemsto retreat to the fast nesses of the hills, as to the citadel of itsdominion, and is only expelled after a tedious siege, in which eitherparty, at times, would seem to be gaining the victory."

  "A very just and apposite figure, Judge Temple," observed the sheriff;"and the garrison under the command of Jack Frost make formidablesorties--you understand what I mean by sorties, monsieur; sallies, inEnglish--and sometimes drive General Spring and his troops back againinto the low countries."

  "Yes sair," returned the Frenchman, whose prominent eyes were watchingthe precarious footsteps of the beast he rode, as it picked itsdangerous way among the roots of trees, holes, log bridges, and sloughsthat formed the aggregate of the highway. "Je vous entends; de lowcountrie is freeze up for half de year."

  The error of Mr. Le Quoi was not noticed by the sheriff; and the rest ofthe party were yielding to the influence of the changeful season, whichwas already teaching the equestrians that a continuance of itsmildness was not to be expected for any length of time. Silence andthoughtfulness succeeded the gayety and conversation that ha
d prevailedduring the commencement of the ride, as clouds began to gather aboutthe heavens, apparently collecting from every quarter, in quick motion,without the agency of a breath of air,

  While riding over one of the cleared eminencies that occurred in theirroute, the watchful eye of Judge Temple pointed out to his daughter theapproach of a tempest. Flurries of snow already obscured the mountainthat formed the northern boundary of the lake, and the genial sensationwhich had quickened the blood through their veins was already succeededby the deadening influence of an approaching northwester.

  All of the party were now busily engaged in making the best of theirway to the village, though the badness of the roads frequently compelledthem to check the impatience of their animals, which often carried themover places that would not admit of any gait faster than a walk.

  Richard continued in advance, followed by Mr. Le Quoi; next to whom rodeElizabeth, who seemed to have imbibed the distance which pervaded themanner of young Edwards since the termination of the discourse betweenthe latter and her father. Marmaduke followed his daughter, giving herfrequent and tender warnings as to the management of her horse. Itwas, possibly, the evident dependence that Louisa Grant placed on hisassistance which induced the youth to continue by her side, as theypursued their way through a dreary and dark wood, where the rays of thesun could but rarely penetrate, and where even the daylight was obscuredand rendered gloomy by the deep forests that surrounded them. No windhad yet reached the spot where the equestrians were in motion, but thatdead silence that often precedes a storm contributed to render theirsituation more irksome than if they were already subject to the fury ofthe tempest. Suddenly the voice of young Edwards was heard shoutingin those appalling tones that carry alarm to the very soul, and whichcurdle the blood of those that hear them.

  "A tree! a tree! Whip--spur for your lives! a tree! a tree."

  "A tree! a tree!" echoed Richard, giving his horse a blow that causedthe alarmed beast to jump nearly a rod, throwing the mud and water intothe air like a hurricane.

  "Von tree! von tree!" shouted the Frenchman, bending his body on theneck of his charger, shutting his eyes, and playing on the ribs of hisbeast with his heels at a rate that caused him to be conveyed on thecrupper of the sheriff with a marvellous speed.

  Elizabeth checked her filly and looked up, with an unconscious butalarmed air, at the very cause of their danger, while she listened tothe crackling sounds that awoke the stillness of the forest; but thenext instant her bridlet was seized by her father, who cried, "Godprotect my child!" and she felt herself hurried onward, impelled by thevigor of his nervous arm.

  Each one of the party bowed to his saddle-bows as the tearing ofbranches was succeeded by a sound like the rushing of the winds, whichwas followed by a thundering report, and a shock that caused the veryearth to tremble as one of the noblest ruins of the forest fell directlyacross their path.

  One glance was enough to assure Judge Temple that his daughter and thosein front of him were safe, and he turned his eyes, in dreadful anxiety,to learn the fate of the others. Young Edwards was on the opposite sideof the tree, his form thrown back in his saddle to its utmost distance,his left hand drawing up his bridle with its greatest force, while theright grasped that of Miss Grant so as to draw the head of her horseunder its body. Both the animals stood shaking in every joint withterror, and snorting fearfully. Louisa herself had relinquished herreins, and, with her hands pressed on her face, sat bending forwardin her saddle, in an attitude of despair, mingled strangely withresignation.

  "Are you safe?" cried the Judge, first breaking the awful silence of themoment.

  "By God's blessing," returned the youth; "but if there had been branchesto the tree we must have been lost--"

  He was interrupted by the figure of Louisa slowly yielding in hersaddle, and but for his arm she would have sunk to the earth. Terror,however, was the only injury that the clergyman's daughter hadsustained, and, with the aid of Elizabeth, she was soon restored to hersenses. After some little time was lost in recovering her strength, theyoung lady was replaced in her saddle, and supported on either sideby Judge Temple and Mr. Edwards she was enabled to follow the party intheir slow progress.

  "The sudden fallings of the trees," said Marmaduke, "are the mostdangerous accidents in the forest, for they are not to be foreseen,being impelled by no winds, nor any extraneous or visible cause againstwhich we can guard."

  "The reason of their falling, Judge Temple, is very obvious," said thesheriff. "The tree is old and decayed, and it is gradually weakened bythe frosts, until a line drawn from the centre of gravity falls withoutits base, and then the tree comes of a certainty; and I should liketo know what greater compulsion there can be for any thing than amathematical certainty. I studied math--"

  "Very true, Richard," interrupted Marmaduke; "thy reasoning is true,and, if my memory be not over-treacherous, was furnished by myself on aformer occasion, But how is one to guard against the danger? Canst thougo through the forests measuring the bases and calculating the centresof the oaks? Answer me that, friend Jones, and I will say thou wilt dothe country a service."

  "Answer thee that, friend Temple!" returned Richard; "a well-educatedman can answer thee anything, sir. Do any trees fall in this manner butsuch as are decayed? Take care not to approach the roots of a rottentree, and you will be safe enough."

  "That would be excluding us entirely from the forests," said Marmaduke."But, happily, the winds usually force down most of these dangerousruins, as their currents are admitted into the woods by the surroundingclearings, and such a fall as this has been is very rare."

  Louisa by this time had recovered so much strength as to allow the partyto proceed at a quicker pace, but long before they were safely housedthey were overtaken by the storm; and when they dismounted at thedoor of the mansion-house, the black plumes of Miss Temple's hat weredrooping with the weight of a load of damp snow, and the coats of thegentlemen were powdered with the same material.

  While Edwards was assisting Louisa from her horse, the warm-hearted girlcaught his hand with fervor and whispered:

  "Now, Mr. Edwards, both father and daughter owe their lives to you."

  A driving northwesterly storm succeeded, and before the sun was setevery vestige of spring had vanished; the lake, the mountains, thevillage, and the fields being again hidden under one dazzling coat ofsnow.