The Leatherstocking Tales II

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The Leatherstocking Tales II Page 78

by James Fenimore Cooper


  “I know of no other means to release the prisoners, than by bribing the Iroquois. They are not proof against presents, and we might offer enough, perhaps, to make them think it better to carry away what to them will be rich gifts, than to carry away poor prisoners; if, indeed, they should carry them away at all!”

  “This is well enough, Judith; yes, it’s well enough, if the inimy is to be bought and we can find articles to make the purchase with. Your father has a convenient lodge, and it is most cunningly placed, though it does’n’t seem overstock’d with riches that will be likely to buy his ransom. There’s the piece he calls Killdeer, might count for something, and I understand there’s a keg of powder about, which might be a make weight, sartain; and yet two able bodied men are not to be bought off for a trifle—besides—”

  “Besides what?” demanded Judith impatiently, observing that the other hesitated to proceed, probably from a reluctance to distress her.

  “Why, Judith, the Frenchers offer bounties as well as our own side, and the price of two scalps would purchase a keg of powder, and a rifle; though I’ll not say one of the latter altogether as good as Killdeer, there, which your father va’nts as oncommon, and onequalled, like. But fair powder, and a pretty sartain rifle; then the red men are not the expartest in fire arms, and do’n’t always know the difference atwixt that which is ra’al, and that which is seeming.”

  “This is horrible!” muttered the girl, struck by the homely manner in which her companion was accustomed to state his facts. “But you overlook my own clothes, Deerslayer, and they, I think, might go far with the women of the Iroquois.”

  “No doubt they would; no doubt they would, Judith,” returned the other, looking at her keenly, as if he would ascertain whether she were really capable of making such a sacrifice. “But, are you sartain, gal, you could find it in your heart, to part with your own finery for such a purpose? Many is the man who has thought he was valiant ’till danger stared him in the face; I’ve known them, too, that consaited they were kind and ready to give away all they had to the poor, when they’ve been listening to other people’s hard heartedness; but whose fists have clench’d as tight as the riven hickory when it came to downright offerings of their own. Besides, Judith, you’re handsome—oncommon in that way, one might obsarve and do no harm to the truth—and they that have beauty, like to have that which will adorn it. Are you sartain you could find it in your heart to part with your own finery?”

  The soothing allusion to the personal charms of the girl, was well timed, to counteract the effect produced by the distrust that the young man expressed of Judith’s devotion to her filial duties. Had another said as much as Deerslayer, the compliment would most probably have been overlooked in the indignation awakened by the doubts, but even the unpolished sincerity, that so often made this simple minded hunter bare his thoughts, had a charm for the girl; and, while she colored, and, for an instant her eyes flashed fire, she could not find it in her heart to be really angry with one whose very soul seemed truth and manly kindness. Look her reproaches she did, but conquering the desire to retort, she succeeded in answering in a mild and friendly manner.

  “You must keep all your favorable opinions, for the Delaware girls, Deerslayer, if you seriously think thus of those of your own colour,” she said, affecting to laugh. “But, try me; if you find that I regret either ribband or feather, silk or muslin, then may you think what you please of my heart, and say what you think.”

  “That’s justice!—The rarest thing to find on ’arth, is a truly just man. So says Tamenund, the wisest prophet of the Delawares, and so all must think, that have occasion to see, and talk and act among mankind. I love a just man, Sarpent. His eyes are never covered with darkness towards his inimies, while they are all sunshine and brightness toward his fri’nds. He uses the reason that God has given him, and he uses it with a feelin’ of his being ordered to look at, and to consider things as they are, and not as he wants them to be. It’s easy enough to find men who call themselves just, but it’s wonderful oncommon to find them that are the very thing, in fact. How often have I seen Indians, gal, who believed they were lookin’ into a matter agreeable to the will of the Great Spirit, when, in truth, they were only striving to act up to their own will and pleasure, and this, half the time, with a temptation to go wrong that could no more be seen by themselves, than the stream that runs in the next valley, can be seen by us through yonder mountain; though any looker on might have discovered it, as plainly as we can discover the parch that are swimming around this hut!”

  “Very true, Deerslayer,” rejoined Judith, losing every trace of displeasure in a bright smile—“very true, and I hope to see you act on this love of justice, in all matters in which I am concerned. Above all, I hope you will judge for yourself, and not believe every evil story that a prating idler, like Hurry Harry, may have to tell, that goes to touch the good name of any young woman, who may not happen to have the same opinion of his face and person that the blustering gallant has of himself.”

  “Hurry Harry’s idees do not pass for gospel with me, Judith; but even worse than he may have eyes and ears,” returned the other gravely.

  “Enough of this!” exclaimed Judith, with flashing eye and a flush that mounted to her temples, “and more of my father and his ransom. ’Tis as you say, Deerslayer; the Indians will not be likely to give up their prisoners, without a heavier bribe than my clothes can offer, and father’s rifle and powder. There is the chest—”

  “Ay, there is the chist, as you say, Judith, and when the question gets to be between a secret and a scalp, I should think most men would prefar keeping the last. Did your father ever give you any downright commands consarning that chist?”

  “Never. He has always appeared to think its locks, and its steel bands, and its strength, its best protection.”

  “’Tis a rare chist, and altogether of curious build,” returned Deerslayer, rising and approaching the thing in question, on which he seated himself, with a view to examine it with greater ease. “Chingachgook, this is no wood that comes of any forest that you or I have ever trailed through! ’Tis’n’t the black walnut, and yet it’s quite as comely, if not more so, did the smoke and the treatment give it fair play.”

  The Delaware drew near, felt of the wood, examined its grain, endeavored to indent the surface with a nail, and passed his hand curiously over the steel bands, the heavy padlocks, and the other novel peculiarities of the massive box.

  “No—nothing like this grows in these regions—” resumed Deerslayer. “I’ve seen all the oaks, both the maples, the elms, the bass woods, all the walnuts, the butternuts, and every tree that has a substance and colour, wrought into some form or other, but never have I before seen such a wood as this! Judith, the chist itself, would buy your father’s freedom, or Iroquois cur’osity is’n’t as strong as red skin cur’osity, in general; especially in the matter of woods.”

  “The purchase might be cheaper made, perhaps, Deerslayer. The chest is full, and it would be better to part with half than to part with the whole. Besides, father—I know not why—but, father values that chest highly.”

  “He would seem to prize what it holds more than the chist, itself, judging by the manner in which he treats the outside, and secures the inside. Here are three locks, Judith; is there no key?”

  “I’ve never seen one; and yet key there must be, since Hetty told us, she had often seen the chest opened.”

  “Keys no more lie in the air, or float on the water, than humans, gal; if there is a key, there must be a place in which it is kept.”

  “That is true, and it might not be difficult to find it, did we dare to search!”

  “This is for you, Judith; it is altogether for you. The chist is your’n, or your father’s; and Hutter is your father, not mine. Cur’osity is a woman’s, and not a man’s failing, and there you have got all the reasons before you. If the chist has articles for ransom, it seems to me they would be wisely used in redeeming their owner’s l
ife, or even in saving his scalp; but that is a matter for your judgment, and not for ourn. When the lawful owner of a trap, or a buck, or a canoe, is’n’t present, his next of kin becomes his riprisentyve by all the laws of the woods. We therefore leave you to say whether the chist shall, or shall not be opened.”

  “I hope you do not believe I can hesitate, when my father’s life’s in danger, Deerslayer!”

  “Why, it’s pretty much putting a scolding ag’in tears and mourning. It’s not onreasonable to foretell that old Tom may find fault with what you’ve done, when he sees himself, once more, in his hut, here, but there’s nothing unusual in men’s falling out with what has been done for their own good; I dare to say that even the moon would seem a different thing from what it now does, could we look at it from the other side.”

  “Deerslayer, if we can find the key, I will authorize you to open the chest, and to take such things from it, as you may think will buy father’s ransom.”

  “First find the key, gal; we’ll talk of the rest a’terwards. Sarpent, you’ve eyes like a fly, and a judgment that’s seldom out; can you help us, in calculating where Floating Tom would be apt to keep the key of a chist that he holds to be as private as this.”

  The Delaware had taken no part in the discourse, until he was thus directly appealed to, when he quitted the chest, which had continued to attract his attention, and cast about him for the place in which a key would be likely to be concealed, under such circumstances. As Judith and Deerslayer were not idle, the while, the whole three were soon engaged in an anxious and spirited search. As it was certain that the desired key was not to be found in any of the common drawers, or closets, of which there were several in the building, none looked there, but all turned their enquiries to those places that struck them as ingenious hiding places, and more likely to be used for such a purpose. In this manner the outer room was thoroughly but fruitlessly examined, when they entered the sleeping apartment of Hutter. This part of the rude building was better furnished than the rest of the structure, containing several articles that had been especially devoted to the service of the deceased wife, of its owner, but as Judith had all the rest of the keys, it was soon rummaged, without bringing to light the particular key desired.

  They now entered the bed room of the daughters. Chingachgook was immediately struck with the contrast between the articles, and the arrangement, of that side of the room that might be called Judith’s and that which more properly belonged to Hetty. A slight exclamation escaped him, and pointing in each direction he alluded to the fact in a low voice, speaking to his friend in the Delaware tongue.

  “Tis as you think, Sarpent,” answered Deerslayer, whose remarks we always translate into English, preserving as much as possible of the peculiar phraseology and manner of the man, “’Tis just so, as any one may see, and ’tis all founded in natur’. One sister loves finery, some say overmuch; while t’other is as meek and lowly as God ever created goodness and truth. Yet, after all, I dare say that Judith has her vartues, and Hetty has her failin’s.”

  “And the ‘Feeble-Mind’ has seen the chist opened?” inquired Chingachgook, with curiosity in his glance.

  “Sartain; that much I’ve heard from her own lips; and, for that matter, so have you. It seems her father does’n’t misgive her discretion, though he does that of his eldest darter.”

  “Then, the key is hid only from the ‘Wild Rose’?” for so Chingachgook had begun gallantly to term Judith, in his private discourse with his friend.

  “That’s it! That’s just it! One he trusts, and the other he does’n’t. There’s red and white in that, Sarpent, all tribes and nations agreeing in trusting some, and refusing to trust other some. It depends on character and judgment.”

  “Where could a key be put, so little likely to be found by the Wild Rose, as among coarse clothes?”

  Deerslayer started, and turning to his friend, with admiration expressed in every lineament of his face, he fairly laughed, in his silent but hearty manner, at the ingenuity and readiness of the conjecture.

  “Your name’s well bestowed, Sarpent—yes, ’tis well bestowed! Sure enough, where would a lover of finery be so little likely to s’arch, as among garments as coarse and onseemly as these of poor Hetty’s. I dares to say, Judith’s delicate fingers have’n’t touched a bit of cloth as rough and oncomely as that petticoat, now, since she first made acquaintance with the officers! Yet, who knows? The key may be as likely to be on the same peg, as in any other place. Take down the garment, Delaware, and let us see if you are ra’ally a prophet.”

  Chingachgook did as desired, but no key was found. A coarse pocket, apparently empty, hung on the adjoining peg, and this was next examined. By this time, the attention of Judith was called in that direction, and she spoke hurriedly and like one who wished to save unnecessary trouble.

  “Those are only the clothes of poor Hetty, dear simple girl!” she said, “nothing we seek, would be likely to be there.”

  The words were hardly out of the handsome mouth of the speaker, when Chingachgook drew the desired key from the pocket. Judith was too quick of apprehension, not to understand the reason a hiding place so simple and exposed, had been used. The blood rushed to her face, as much with resentment perhaps, as with shame, and she bit her lip, though she continued silent. Deerslayer and his friend now discovered the delicacy of men of native refinement, neither smiling or even by a glance betraying how completely he understood the motives and ingenuity of this clever artifice. The former, who had taken the key from the Indian, led the way into the adjoining room, and applying it to a lock ascertained that the right instrument had actually been found. There were three pad-locks, each of which however was easily opened by this single key. Deerslayer removed them all, loosened the hasps, raised the lid a little to make certain it was loose, and then he drew back from the chest, several feet, signing to his friend to follow.

  “This is a family chist, Judith,” he said, “and ’tis like to hold family secrets. The Sarpent and I will go into the Ark, and look to the canoes, and paddles, and oars, while you can examine it by yourself, and find out whether any thing that will be a make weight in a ransom, is, or is not, among the articles. When you’ve got through, give us a call, and we’ll all sit in council, together, touching the valie of the articles.”

  “Stop, Deerslayer,” exclaimed the girl, as he was about to withdraw. “Not a single thing will I touch—I will not even raise the lid—unless you are present. Father and Hetty have seen fit to keep the inside of this chest a secret from me, and I am much too proud to pry into their hidden treasures, unless it were for their own good. But, on no account, will I open the chest alone. Stay with me, then; I want witnesses of what I do.”

  “I rather think, Sarpent, that the gal is right! Confidence and reliance beget security, but suspicion is like to make us all wary. Judith has a right to ask us to be present, and should the chist hold any of Master Hutter’s secrets, they will fall into the keeping of two as close mouthed young men as are to be found. We will stay with you, Judith—but, first let us take a look at the lake and the shore, for this chist will not be emptied in a minute.”

  The two men now went out on the platform, and Deerslayer swept the shore with the glass, while the Indian gravely turned his eye on the water and the woods, in quest of any sign that might betray the machinations of their enemies. Nothing was visible, and assured of their temporary security, the three collected around the chest, again, with the avowed object of opening it.

  Judith had held this chest, and its unknown contents, in a species of reverence as long as she could remember. Neither her father, nor her mother, ever mentioned it, in her presence, and there appeared to be a silent convention, that in naming the different objects that occasionally stood near it, or even lay on its lid, care should be had to avoid any allusion to the chest itself. Habit had rendered this so easy, and so much a matter of course, that it was only quite recently the girl had began even to muse on the singularity
of the circumstance. But there had never been sufficient intimacy between Hutter and his eldest daughter to invite confidence. At times he was kind, but in general, with her more especially, he was stern and morose. Least of all had his authority been exercised in a way to embolden his child to venture on the liberty she was about to take, without many misgivings of the consequences, although the liberty proceeded from a desire to serve himself. Then Judith was not altogether free from a little superstition, on the subject of this chest, which had stood a sort of tabooed relic before her eyes, from childhood to the present hour. Nevertheless the time had come when it would seem that this mystery was to be explained, and that under circumstances, too, which left her very little choice in the matter.

  Finding that both her companions were watching her movements, in grave silence, Judith placed a hand on the lid, and endeavored to raise it. Her strength, however, was insufficient, and it appeared to the girl, who was fully aware that all the fastenings were removed, that she was resisted in an unhallowed attempt by some supernatural power.

  “I cannot raise the lid, Deerslayer!” she said—“Had we not better give up the attempt, and find some other means of releasing the prisoners?”

  “Not so—Judith; not so, gal. No means are as sartain and easy, as a good bribe,” answered the other. “As for the lid, ’tis held by nothing but its own weight, which is prodigious for so small a piece of wood, loaded with iron as it is.”

  As Deerslayer spoke, he applied his own strength to the effort, and succeeded in raising the lid against the timbers of the house, where he took care to secure it, by a sufficient prop. Judith fairly trembled, as she cast her first glance at the interior, and she felt a temporary relief in discovering that a piece of canvass, that was carefully tucked in, around the edges, effectually concealed all beneath it. The chest was apparently well stored, however, the canvass lying within an inch of the lid.

 

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