The Leatherstocking Tales II

by James Fenimore Cooper

  A caudle-cup without an ear;

  A battered, shattered ash bedstead;

  A box of deal without a lid;

  A pair of tongs, but out of joint;

  A back-sword poker, without point;

  A dish which might good meat afford once;

  An Ovid, and an old Concordance.”

  —Thomas Sheridan, “A True and Faithful Inventory of the Goods belonging to Dr. Swift,” ll. 1–6, 13–14.

  * * *

  NO SOONER did Deerslayer raise the pistols, than he turned to the Delaware and held them up, for his admiration.

  “Child gun,” said the Serpent, smiling, while he handled one of the instruments as if it had been a toy.

  “Not it, Sarpent; not it—t’was made for a man and would satisfy a giant, if rightly used. But stop; white men are remarkable for their carelessness in putting away fire arms, in chists and corners. Let me look if care has been given to these.”

  As Deerslayer spoke, he took the weapon from the hand of his friend, and opened the pan. The last was filled with priming, caked like a bit of cinder, by time, moisture and compression. An application of the ramrod showed that both the pistols were charged, although Judith could testify that they had probably lain for years in the chest. It is not easy to portray the surprise of the Indian, at this discovery, for he was in the practice of renewing his priming daily, and of looking to the contents of his piece, at other short intervals.

  “This is white neglect,” said Deerslayer, shaking his head, “and scarce a season goes by, that some one, in the settlements does n’t suffer from it. It’s extr’ornary too, Judith—yes, it’s downright extr’ornary that the owner shall fire his piece at a deer, or some other game, or perhaps at an inimy, and twice out of three times he’ll miss; but let him catch an accident with one of these forgotten charges, and he makes it sartain death to a child, or a brother, or a fri’nd! Well, we shall do a good turn to the owner if we fire these pistols for him, and as they’re novelties to you and me, Sarpent, we’ll try our hands at a mark. Freshen that priming, and I’ll do the same with this, and then we’ll see who is the best man with a pistol; as for the rifle, that’s long been settled atween us.”

  Deerslayer laughed heartily, at his own conceit, and, in a minute or two, they were both standing on the platform, selecting some object in the Ark for their target. Judith was led by curiosity to their side.

  “Stand back, gal, stand a little back; these we’pons have been long loaded,” said Deerslayer, “and some accident may happen in the discharge.”

  “Then you shall not fire them! Give them both to the Delaware; or it would be better to unload them, without firing.”

  “That’s ag’in usage—and some people say, ag’in manhood; though I hold to no such silly doctrine. We must fire ’em, Judith; yes, we must fire ’em; though I foresee that neither will have any great reason to boast of his skill.”

  Judith, in the main, was a girl of great personal spirit, and her habits prevented her from feeling any of the terror that is apt to come over her sex, at the report of fire arms. She had discharged many a rifle, and had even been known to kill a deer, under circumstances that were favorable to the effort. She submitted therefore, falling a little back by the side of Deerslayer, giving the Indian the front of the platform to himself. Chingachgook raised the weapon several times, endeavored to steady it by using both hands, changed his attitude, from one that was awkward, to another still more so, and finally drew the trigger with a sort of desperate indifference, without having, in reality, secured any aim at all. The consequence was, that instead of hitting the knot which had been selected for the mark, he missed the ark altogether; the bullet skipping along the water, like a stone that was thrown by hand.

  “Well done—Sarpent—well done—” cried Deerslayer laughing, with his noiseless glee, “you’ve hit the lake, and that’s an expl’ite for some men! I know’d it, and as much as said it, here, to Judith; for your short we’pons do’n’t belong to red skin gifts. You’ve hit the lake, and that’s better than only hitting the air! Now, stand back and let us see what white gifts can do with a white we’pon. A pistol is’n’t a rifle, but colour is colour.”

  The aim of Deerslayer was both quick and steady, and the report followed almost as soon as the weapon rose. Still the pistol hung fire, as it is termed, and fragments of it flew in a dozen directions, some falling on the roof of the castle, others in the Ark, and one in the water. Judith screamed, and when the two men turned anxiously towards the girl, she was as pale as death, trembling in every limb.

  “She’s wownded—yes, the poor gal’s wownded—Sarpent, though one could’n’t foresee it, standing where she did. We’ll lead her in to a seat, and we must do the best for her, that our knowledge and skill can afford.”

  Judith allowed herself to be supported to a seat, swallowed a mouthful of the water that the Delaware offered her in a gourd, and, after a violent fit of trembling, that seemed ready to shake her fine frame to dissolution, she burst into tears.

  “The pain must be borne, poor Judith—yes, it must be borne,” said Deerslayer, soothingly, “though I am far from wishing you not to weep; for weeping often lightens galish feelin’s. Where can she be hurt, Sarpent?—I see no signs of blood, nor any rent of skin, or garments?”

  “I am uninjured, Deerslayer—” stammered the girl, through her tears. “It’s fright—nothing more, I do assure you, and, God be praised! no one, I find, has been harmed by the accident.”

  “This is extr’ornary!” exclaimed the unsuspecting and simple minded hunter—“I thought, Judith, you’d been above settlement weaknesses, and that you was a gal not to be frightened by the sound of a bursting we’pon—No—I didn’t think you so skeary! Hetty might well have been startled; but you’ve too much judgment and reason to be frightened when the danger’s all over. They’re pleasant to the eye, chief, and changeful, but very unsartain in their feelin’s!”

  Shame kept Judith silent. There had been no acting in her agitation, but all had fairly proceeded from sudden and uncontrollable alarm—an alarm that she found almost as inexplicable to herself, as it proved to be to her companions. Wiping away the traces of tears, however, she smiled again, and was soon able to join in the laugh at her own folly.

  “And you, Deerslayer,” she at length succeeded in saying—“are you, indeed, altogether unhurt? It seems almost miraculous that a pistol should have burst in your hand, and you escape without the loss of a limb, if not of life!”

  “Such wonders ar’n’t oncommon, at all, among worn out arms. The first rifle they gave me play’d the same trick, and yet I liv’d through it, though not as onharmless as I’ve got out of this affair. Thomas Hutter is master of one pistol less than he was this morning, but, as it happened in trying to sarve him, there’s no ground of complaint. Now, draw near, and let us look farther into the inside of the chist.”

  Judith, by this time, had so far gotten the better of her agitation as to resume her seat, and the examination went on. The next article that offered was enveloped in cloth, and on opening it, it proved to be one of the mathematical instruments that were then in use among seamen, possessing the usual ornaments and fastenings in brass. Deerslayer and Chingachgook expressed their admiration and surprise at the appearance of the unknown instrument, which was bright and glittering, having apparently been well cared for.

  “This goes beyond the surveyors, Judith!” Deerslayer exclaimed, after turning the instrument several times in his hands. “I’ve seen all their tools often, and wicked and heartless enough are they, for they never come into the forest but to lead the way to waste and destruction; but none of them have as designing a look as this! I fear me, after all, that Thomas Hutter has journeyed into the wilderness with no fair intentions towards its happiness. Did you ever see any of the cravings of a surveyor about your father, gal?”

  “He is no surveyor, Deerslayer, nor does he know the use of that instrument, though he seems to own it. Do you suppose
that Thomas Hutter ever wore that coat? It is as much too large for him, as this instrument is beyond his learning.”

  “That’s it—that must be it, Sarpent, and the old fellow, by some onknown means, has fallen heir to another man’s goods! They say he has been a mariner, and no doubt this chist, and all it holds—ha! What have we here?—This far out does the brass and black wood of the tool!”

  Deerslayer had opened a small bag, from which he was taking, one by one, the pieces of a set of chess-men. They were of ivory, much larger than common, and exquisitely wrought. Each piece represented the character, or thing after which it is named; the knights being mounted, the castles stood on elephants, and even the pawns possessed the heads and busts of men. The set was not complete, and a few fractures betrayed bad usage; but all that was left had been carefully put away and preserved. Even Judith expressed wonder, as these novel objects were placed before her eyes, and Chingachgook fairly forgot his Indian dignity in admiration and delight. The latter took up each piece, and examined it with never tiring satisfaction, pointing out to the girl, the more ingenious and striking portions of the workmanship. But the elephants gave him the greatest pleasure. The “Hugh’s!” that he uttered, as he passed his fingers over their trunks, and ears, and tails, were very distinct, nor did he fail to note the pawns, which were armed as archers. This exhibition lasted several minutes, during which time Judith and the Indian had all the rapture to themselves. Deerslayer sate silent, thoughtful, and even gloomy, though his eyes followed each movement of the two principal actors, noting every new peculiarity about the pieces as they were held up to view. Not an exclamation of pleasure, nor a word of condemnation passed his lips. At length his companions observed his silence, and, then, for the first time since the chess men had been discovered, did he speak.

  “Judith,” he asked earnestly, but with a concern that amounted almost to tenderness of manner, “did your parents ever talk to you of religion?”

  The girl coloured, and the flashes of crimson that passed over her beautiful countenance were like the wayward tints of a Neapolitan sky in November. Deerslayer had given her so strong a taste for truth, however, that she did not waver in her answer, replying simply and with sincerity.

  “My mother did often,” she said, “my father never. I thought it made my mother sorrowful to speak of our prayers and duties, but my father has never opened his mouth on such matters, before or since her death.”

  “That I can believe—that I can believe. He has no God—no such God as it becomes a man of white skin to worship, or even a red-skin. Them things are idols!”

  Judith started, and for a moment she seemed seriously hurt. Then she reflected, and in the end she laughed. “And you think, Deerslayer, that these ivory toys are my father’s Gods? I have heard of idols, and know what they are.”

  “Them are idols!” repeated the other, positively. “Why should your father keep ’em, if he does’n’t worship ’em.”

  “Would he keep his gods in a bag, and locked up in a chest? No—no—Deerslayer; my poor father carries his God with him, wherever he goes, and that is in his own cravings. These things may really be idols—I think they are myself, from what I have heard and read of idolatry, but they have come from some distant country, and like all the other articles, have fallen into Thomas Hutter’s hands, when he was a sailor.”

  “I’m glad of it—I am downright glad to hear it, Judith, for I do not think I could have mustered the resolution to strive to help a white idolater out of his difficulties! The old man is of my colour and nation and I wish to sarve him, but as one who denied all his gifts, in the way of religion, it would have come hard to do so. That animal seems to give you great satisfaction, Sarpent, though it’s an idolatrous beast at the best.”

  “It is an elephant,” interrupted Judith. “I’ve often seen pictures of such animals, at the garrisons, and mother had a book in which there was a printed account of the creature. Father burnt that with all the other books, for he said Mother loved reading too well. This was not long before mother died, and I’ve sometimes thought that the loss hastened her end.”

  This was said equally without levity and without any very deep feeling. It was said without levity, for Judith was saddened by her recollections, and yet she had been too much accustomed to live for self, and for the indulgence of her own vanities, to feel her mother’s wrongs very keenly. It required extraordinary circumstances to awaken a proper sense of her situation, and to stimulate the better feelings of this beautiful, but misguided girl, and those circumstances had not yet occurred in her brief existence.

  “Elephant, or no elephant, t’is an idol,” returned the hunter, “and not fit to remain in christian keeping.”

  “Good for Iroquois!” said Chingachgook, parting with one of the castles with reluctance, as his friend took it from him to replace it in the bag—“Elephon buy whole tribe—Buy Delaware, almost!”

  “Ay, that it would, as any one who comperhends red-skin natur’ must know,” answered Deerslayer, “but the man that passes false money, Sarpent, is as bad as he who makes it. Did you ever know a just Injin that would’n’t scorn to sell a ’coon skin, for the true marten, or to pass off a mink for a beaver. I know that a few of these idols, perhaps one of them elephants, would go far towards buying Thomas Hutter’s liberty, but it goes ag’in conscience to pass such counterfeit money. Perhaps no Injin tribe, hereaway, is downright idolators but there’s some that come so near it, that white gifts ought to be particular about encouraging them in their mistake.”

  “If idolatry is a gift, Deerslayer, and gifts are what you seem to think them, idolatry in such people can hardly be a sin,” said Judith with more smartness than discrimination.

  “God grants no such gifts to any of his creatur’s, Judith,” returned the hunter, seriously. “He must be adored, under some name or other, and not creatur’s of brass or ivory. It matters not whether the Father of All is called God, or Manitou, Deity or Great Spirit, he is none the less our common maker and master; nor does it count for much whether the souls of the just go to Paradise, or Happy Hunting Grounds, since He may send each his own way, as suits his own pleasure and wisdom; but it curdles my blood, when I find human mortals so bound up in darkness and consait, as to fashion the ’arth, or wood, or bones, things made by their own hands, into motionless, senseless iffigies, and then fall down afore them, and worship ’em as a Deity!”

  “After all, Deerslayer, these pieces of ivory may not be idols, at all. I remember, now, to have seen one of the officers, at the garrison, with a set of fox and geese made in some such a design as these, and here is something hard, wrapped in cloth, that may belong to your idols.”

  Deerslayer took the bundle the girl gave him, and unrolling it, he found the board within. Like the pieces it was large, rich, and inlaid with ebony and ivory. Putting the whole in conjunction, the hunter, though not without many misgivings, slowly came over to Judith’s opinion, and finally admitted that the fancied idols must be merely the curiously carved men of some unknown game. Judith had the tact to use her victory with great moderation, nor did she once, even in the most indirect manner, allude to the ludicrous mistake of her companion.

  This discovery of the uses of the extraordinary-looking little images, settled the affair of the proposed ransom. It was agreed generally, and all understood the weaknesses and tastes of Indians, that nothing could be more likely to tempt the cupidity of the Iroquois, than the elephants, in particular. Luckily the whole of the castles were among the pieces, and these four tower-bearing animals it was finally determined should be the ransom offered. The remainder of the men, and, indeed, all the rest of the articles in the chest, were to be kept out of view, and to be resorted to only as a last appeal. As soon as these preliminaries were settled, every thing but those intended for the bribe was carefully replaced in the chest, all the covers were ‘tucked in’, as they had been found, and it was quite possible, could Hutter have been put in possession of the castle again, that
he might have passed the remainder of his days in it, without even suspecting the invasion that had been made on the privacy of the chest. The rent pistol would have been the most likely to reveal the secret, but this was placed by the side of its fellow, and all were pressed down as before, some half a dozen packages in the bottom of the chest not having been opened at all. When this was done, the lid was lowered, the padlocks replaced, and the key turned. The latter was then replaced in the pocket from which it had been taken.

  More than an hour was consumed in settling the course proper to be pursued, and in returning every thing to its place. The pauses to converse were frequent, and Judith, who experienced a lively pleasure in the open, undisguised admiration, with which Deerslayer’s honest eyes gazed at her handsome face, found the means to prolong the interview, with a dexterity that seems to be innate in female coquetry. Deerslayer, indeed, appeared to be the first who was conscious of the time that had been thus wasted, and to call the attention of his companions to the necessity of doing something towards putting the plan of ransoming into execution. Chingachgook had remained in Hutter’s bed room, where the elephants were laid, to feast his eyes with the images of animals so wonderful, and so novel. Perhaps an instinct told him that his presence would not be as acceptable to his companions, as this holding himself aloof, for Judith had not much reserve in the manifestations of her preferences, and the Delaware had not got so far as one betrothed without acquiring some knowledge of the symptoms of the master passion.

  “Well, Judith,” said Deerslayer, rising, after the interview had lasted much longer than even he himself suspected, “t’is pleasant convarsing with you, and settling all these matters, but duty calls us another way. All this time, Hurry and your father, not to say Hetty—”

  The word was cut short in the speaker’s mouth, for, at that critical moment, a light step was heard on the platform, or ‘court-yard’, a human figure darkened the door-way, and the person last mentioned stood before him. The low exclamation that escaped Deerslayer and the slight scream of Judith were hardly uttered, when an Indian youth, between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, stood beside her. These two entrances had been made with moccasined feet, and consequently almost without noise, but, unexpected and stealthy as they were, they had not the effect to disturb Deerslayer’s self possession. His first measure was to speak rapidly in Delaware to his friend, cautioning him to keep out of sight, while he stood on his guard; the second was to step to the door to ascertain the extent of the danger. No one else, however, had come, and a simple contrivance, in the shape of a raft, that lay floating at the side of the Ark, at once explained the means that had been used in bringing Hetty off. Two dead and dry, and consequently buoyant, logs of pine were bound together with pins and withes and a little platform of riven chestnut had been rudely placed on their surfaces. Here Hetty had been seated, on a billet of wood, while the young Iroquois had rowed the primitive, and slow-moving, but perfectly safe, craft, from the shore. As soon as Deerslayer had taken a close survey of this raft, and satisfied himself nothing else was near, he shook his head, and muttered in his soliloquizing way—