The Leatherstocking Tales II

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “This is a safe cover,” said the Pathfinder, after he had taken a scrutinizing survey of his position; “but it may be necessary to make it safer. Master Cap, I ask nothing of you, but silence and a quieting of such gifts as you may have got at sea, while the Tuscarora and I make provision for the evil hour.”

  The guide then went a short distance into the bushes, accompanied by the Indian, where the two cut off the larger stems of several alders and other bushes, using the utmost care not to make a noise. The ends of these little trees, for such in fact they were, were forced into the mud, outside of the canoes, the depth of the water being very trifling, and in the course of ten minutes a very effectual screen was interposed between them and the point of principal danger. Much ingenuity and readiness were manifested in making this simple arrangement, in which the two workmen were essentially favored by the natural formation of the bank, the indentation in the shore, the shallowness of the water and the manner in which the tangled bushes dipped into the stream. The Pathfinder had the address to look for bushes that had curved stems, things easily found in such a place, and by cutting them some distance beneath the bend, and permitting the latter to touch the water, the artificial little thicket had not the appearance of growing in the stream, which might have excited suspicion, but, one passing it, would have thought, that the bushes shot out horizontally from the bank before they inclined upwards towards the light. In short, the shelter was so cunningly devised, and so artfully prepared, that none but an unusually distrustful eye, would have been turned for an instant towards the spot, in quest of a hiding place.

  “This is the best cover, I ever yet got into,” said the Pathfinder, with his quiet laugh, after having been on the outside to reconnoitre; “the leaves of our new trees fairly touch the bushes over our heads, and even the painter who has been in the garrison, of late, could not tell which belong to Providence and which are ourn. Hist!—yonder comes Eau douce, wading like a sensible boy, as he is, to lose his trail, in the water, and we shall soon see, whether our cover is good for any thing or not.”

  Jasper had, indeed, returned from his duty above, and missing the canoes, he at once inferred that they had dropped round the next bend in the river, in order to get out of sight of the fire. His habits of caution immediately suggested the expediency of stepping into the water, in order that there might exist no visible communication between the marks left by the party, on the shore, and the place where he believed them to have taken refuge below. Should the Canadian Indians return on their own trail, and discover that made by the Pathfinder and the Serpent, in their ascent from, and descent to, the river, the clue to their movements would cease at the shore, water leaving no prints of footsteps. The young man had, therefore, waded, knee-deep, as far as the point, and was now seen making his way slowly down the margin of the stream, searching curiously for the spot, in which the canoes were hid.

  It was in the power of those behind the bushes, by placing their eyes near the leaves, to find many places to look through, while one at a little distance lost this advantage, or, even, did his sight happen to fall on some small opening, the bank and the shadows beyond prevented him from detecting forms and outlines of sufficient dimensions, to expose the fugitives. It was evident to those who watched his motions, from behind their cover, and they were all in the canoes, that Jasper was totally at a loss to imagine, where the Pathfinder had secreted himself. When fairly round the curvature in the shore, and out of sight of the fire he had lighted above, the young man stopped and began examining the bank deliberately, and with great care. Occasionally, he advanced eight or ten paces, and then halted again, to renew the search. The water being much shoaler than common, he stepped aside, in order to walk with greater ease to himself, and came so near the artificial plantation that he might have touched it with his hand. Still he detected nothing, and was actually passing the spot, when Pathfinder made an opening beneath the branches, and called to him, in a low voice, to enter.

  “This is pretty well,” said the Pathfinder, laughing; “though pale-face eyes, and red-skin eyes are as different as human spyglasses. I would wager, with the sarjeant’s daughter here, a horn of powder agin a wampum belt for her girdle, that her father’s rigiment should march by this ambushment of ourn, and never find out the fraud! But, if the Mingos actilly get down into the bed of the river, where Jasper passed, I should tremble for the plantation. It will do, for their eyes, even, across the stream, howsever, and will not be without its use.”

  “Do’n’t you think, Master Pathfinder, that it would be wisest, after all,” said Cap, “to get under way, at once, and carry sail hard down stream, as soon as we are satisfied these rascals are fairly astern of us. We seamen call a stern chase, a long chase.”

  “I would’n’t move from this spot, until we hear from the Sarpent, with the sarjeant’s pretty da’ter, here, in our company, for all the powder in the magazine of the fort, below! Sartain captivity, or sartain death would follow. If a tender fa’n, such as the maiden we have in charge, could thread the forest like old deer, it might, indeed, do to quit the canoes, for by making a circuit, we could reach the garrison afore morning.”

  “Then let it be done,” said Mabel, springing to her feet, under the sudden impulse of awakened energy; “I am young, active, used to exercise, and could easily out-walk my dear uncle. Let no one think me a hindrance. I cannot bear that all your lives should be exposed on my account.”

  “No—no—pretty one; we think you any thing but a hindrance, or any thing that is onbecoming, and would willingly run twice this risk to do you and the honest sarjeant a sarvice. Do I not speak your mind, Eau douce?”

  “To do her a service,” said Jasper, with emphasis. “Nothing shall tempt me to desert Mabel Dunham, until she is safe in her father’s arms.”

  “Well said, lad; bravely and honestly said, too; and I join in it, heart and hand. No—no, you are not the first of your sex I have led through the wilderness, and never but once did any harm befal any of them. That was a sad day, sartainly; but its like may never come again.”

  Mabel looked from one of her protectors to the other, and her fine eyes swam in tears. Frankly placing a hand in that of each, she answered them, though at first her voice was choked,

  “I have no right to expose you, on my account. My dear father will thank you—I thank you. God will reward you—but let there be no unnecessary risk. I can walk far, and have often gone miles, on some girlish fancy; why not now exert myself, for my life—nay, for your precious lives.”

  “She is a true dove, Jasper,” said the Pathfinder, neither relinquishing the hand he held until the girl herself, in native modesty, saw fit to withdraw it, “and wonderfully winning! We get to be rough, and sometimes even hard hearted in the woods, Mabel, but the sight of one like you, brings us back agin to our young feelin’s, and does us good for the remainder of our days. I dare say, Jasper, here, will tell you the same; for, like me in the forest, the lad sees but few such as yourself, on Ontario, to soften his heart, and remind him of love for his kind. Speak out, now, Jasper, and say if it is not so.”

  “I question if many like Mabel Dunham are to be found anywhere,” returned the young man gallantly, an honest sincerity glowing in his face, that spoke more eloquently than his tongue; “you need not mention woods and lakes, to challenge her equals, but I would go into the settlements and towns.”

  “We had better leave the canoes,” Mabel hurriedly rejoined, “for I feel it is no longer safe to be here.”

  “You can never do it; you can never do it. It would be a march of more than twenty miles, and that, too, of tramping over brush and roots, and through swamps, in the dark; the trail of such a party would be wide, and we might have to fight our way into the garrison, a’ter all. We will wait for the Mohican.”

  Such appearing to be the decision of him to whom all, in their present strait, looked up for counsel, no more was said on the subject. The whole party now broke up into groups, Arrowhead and his wife, sitting
apart under the bushes, conversing in a low tone, though the man spoke sternly and the woman answered with the subdued mildness that marks the degraded condition of a savage’s wife. Pathfinder and Cap occupied one canoe, chatting of their different adventures, by sea and land, while Jasper and Mabel sat in the other, making greater progress in intimacy in a single hour than might have been effected under other circumstances, in a twelvemonth. Notwithstanding their situation, as regards the enemy, the time flew by swiftly, and the young people, in particular, were astonished when Cap informed them how long they had been thus occupied.

  “If one could smoke, Master Pathfinder,” observed the old sailor, “this berth would be snug enough, for, to give the devil his due, you have got the canoes handsomely landlocked, and into moorings that would defy a monsoon. The only hardship is the denial of the pipe.”

  “The scent of the tobacco would betray us, and where is the use of taking all these precautions against the Mingos’ eyes, if we are to tell them where the cover is to be found through the nose. No—no—deny your appetites; deny your appetites, and l’arn one virtue from a red skin, who will pass a week without eating even, to get a single scalp.—Did you hear nothing, Jasper?”

  “The Serpent is coming.”

  “Then let us see if Mohican eyes are better than them of a lad who follows the water.”

  The Mohican made his appearance in the same direction as that by which Jasper had rejoined his friends. Instead of coming directly on, however, no sooner did he pass the bend, where he was concealed from any who might be higher up stream, than he moved close under the bank, and, using the utmost caution, got a position where he could look back, with his person sufficiently concealed by the bushes, to prevent its being seen by any in that quarter.

  “The Sarpent sees the knaves!” whispered Pathfinder—“as I’m a christian white man they have bit at the bait, and have ambushed the smoke!”

  Here a hearty, but silent, laugh, interrupted his words, and nudging Cap with his elbow, they all continued to watch the movements of Chingachgook, in profound stillness. The Mohican remained stationary as the rock on which he stood, fully ten minutes, and then it was apparent that something of interest had occurred within his view, for he drew back with a hurried manner, looked anxiously and keenly along the margin of the stream, and moved quickly down it, taking care to lose his trail in the shallow water. He was evidently in a hurry and concerned, now looking behind him, and then casting eager glances towards every spot on the shore, where he thought a canoe might be concealed.

  “Call him in,” whispered Jasper, scarce able to restrain his impatience—“call him in, or it will be too late. See, he is actually passing us.”

  “Not so—not so, lad; nothing presses, depend on it—” returned his companion, “nothing presses, or the Sarpent would begin to creep. The Lord help us, and teach us wisdom! I do believe even Chingachgook, whose sight is as faithful as the hound’s scent, overlooks us, and will not find out the ambushment we have made!”

  This exultation was untimely, for the words were no sooner spoken, than the Indian, who had actually got several feet lower down the stream than the artificial cover, suddenly stopped, fastened a keen riveted glance, among the transplanted bushes, made a few hasty steps backward, and, bending his body and carefully separating the branches, he appeared among them.

  “The accursed Mingos!” said Pathfinder, as soon as his friend was near enough to be addressed with prudence.

  “Iroquois;” returned the sententious Indian.

  “No matter—no matter—Iroquois—devil—Mingo, Mengwe, or furies—all are pretty much the same. I call all rascals, Mingos. Come hither, chief, and let us convarse rationally.”

  The two then stepped aside and conversed earnestly in the dialect of the Delawares. When their private communication was over, Pathfinder rejoined the rest, and made them acquainted with all he had learned.

  The Mohican had followed the trail of their enemies, some distance towards the fort, until the latter caught a sight of the smoke of Jasper’s fire, when they instantly retraced their steps. It now became necessary for Chingachgook, who ran the greatest risk of detection, to find a cover where he could secrete himself, until the party might pass. It was perhaps fortunate for him, that the savages were so intent on their recent discovery that they did not bestow the ordinary attention on the signs of the forest. At all events, they passed him swiftly, fifteen in number, treading lightly in each other’s footsteps, and he was enabled again to get into their rear. After proceeding to the place where the footsteps of Pathfinder and the Mohican joined the principal trail, the Iroquois had struck off to the river, which they reached just as Jasper disappeared behind the bend below. The smoke being now in plain view, the savages plunged into the woods, and endeavored to approach the fire unseen. Chingachgook profited by this occasion to descend to the water, and to gain the bend in the river also, which he thought had been effected undiscovered. Here he paused, as has been stated, until he saw his enemies at the fire, where their stay, however, was very short.

  Of the motives of the Iroquois the Mohican could judge only by their acts. He thought they had detected the artifice of the fire, and were aware that it had been kindled with a view to mislead them; for, after a hasty examination of the spot, they separated, some plunging again into the woods, while six or eight followed the footsteps of Jasper along the shore, and came down the stream towards the place where the canoes had landed. What course they might take on reaching that spot, was only to be conjectured, for the Serpent had felt the emergency to be too pressing to delay looking for his friends any longer. From some indications that were to be gathered from their gestures, however, he thought it probable that their enemies might follow down on the margin of the stream, but could not be certain.

  As the Pathfinder related these facts to his companions, the professional feelings of the two other white men came uppermost, and both naturally reverted to their habits, in quest of the means of escape.

  “Let us run out the canoes, at once,” said Jasper, eagerly; “the current is strong, and by using the paddles vigorously we shall soon be beyond the reach of these scoundrels!”

  “And this poor flower, that first blossomed in the clearin’s; shall it wither in this forest?” objected his friend, with a poetry that he had unconsciously imbibed by his long association with the Delawares.

  “We must all die first,” answered the youth, a generous colour mounting to his temples; “Mabel, and Arrowhead’s wife may lie down in the canoes, while we do our duty, like men, on our feet.”

  “Ay, you are actyve at the paddle and the oar, Eau douce, I will allow, but an accursed Mingo is more actyve, at his mischief; the canoes are swift, but a rifle bullet is swifter.”

  “It is the business of men, engaged by a confiding father as we have been, to run this risk—”

  “But it is not their business to overlook prudence.”

  “Prudence! A man may carry his prudence so far as to forget his courage.”

  The group was standing on the narrow strand, the Pathfinder leaning on his rifle, the butt of which rested on the gravelly beach, while both his hands clasped the barrel, at the height of his own shoulders. As Jasper threw out this severe and unmerited imputation, the deep red of his comrade’s face, maintained its hue unchanged, though the young man perceived that the fingers grasped the iron of the gun with the tenacity of a vice. Here all betrayal of emotion ceased.

  “You are young, and hot-headed,” returned Pathfinder, with a dignity that impressed his listeners with a keen sense of his moral superiority; “but my life has been passed among dangers of this sort, and my exper’ence and gifts are not to be mastered by the impatience of a boy. As for courage, Jasper, I will not send back an angry and unmeaning word, to meet an angry and an unmeaning word, for I know that you are true, in your station and according to your knowledge, but take the advice of one who faced the Mingos when you were a child, and know that their cunning is easier sar
cumvented by prudence, than outwitted by foolishness.”

  “I ask your pardon, Pathfinder,” said the repentant Jasper, eagerly grasping the hands that the other permitted him to seize. “I ask your pardon, humbly and sincerely. ’Twas a foolish, as well as wicked thing to hint of a man whose heart, in a good cause, is as firm as the rocks on the lake shore.”

  For the first time, the colour deepened on the cheek of the Pathfinder, and the solemn dignity that he had assumed, under a purely natural impulse, disappeared in the expression of the earnest simplicity that was inherent in all his feelings. He met the grasp of his young friend, with a squeeze as cordial, as if no chord had jarred between them, and a slight sternness that had gathered about his eye disappeared in a look of natural kindness.

  “’Tis well, Jasper, ’tis well,” he answered, laughing. “I bear no ill will, nor shall any one in my behalf. My natur’ is that of a white man, and that is to bear no malice. It might have been ticklish work to have said half as much to the Sarpent here, though he is a Delaware, for colour will have its way—”

  A touch on his shoulder caused the speaker to cease. Mabel was standing erect in the canoe, her light, but swelling form, bent forward in an attitude of graceful earnestness, her finger on her lips, her head averted, the spirited eyes riveted on an opening in the bushes, and one arm extended with a fishing-rod, the end of which had touched the Pathfinder. The latter bowed his head to a level with a look-out, near which he had intentionally kept himself, and then whispered to Jasper— “The accursed Mingos! Stand to your arms, my men, but lay quiet as the corpses of dead trees!”

  Jasper advanced rapidly, but noiselessly, to the canoe, and with a gentle violence induced Mabel to place herself in such an attitude as concealed her entire body, though it would have probably exceeded his means to induce the girl so far to lower her head that she could not keep her gaze fastened on their enemies. He then took his own post near her, with his rifle cocked and poised, in readiness to fire. Arrowhead and Chingachgook crawled to the cover, and lay in wait like snakes, with their arms prepared for service, while the wife of the former bowed her head between her knees, covered it with her calicoe robe, and remained passive and immovable. Cap loosened both his pistols, in their belt, but seemed quite at a loss what course to pursue. The Pathfinder did not stir. He had originally got a position where he might aim with deadly effect through the leaves, and whence he could watch the movements of his enemies, and he was far too steady to be disconcerted at a moment so critical.