The Leatherstocking Tales II

by James Fenimore Cooper

And brookes with blowde shall flowe.

  You leave youre goode and lawfulle kynge

  Whenne ynne aduersitye

  Like mee, untoe the true cause stycke,

  And for the true cause dye.”

  —Chatterton, “Bristowe Tragedie,” ll. 357–64.

  * * *

  THE CALM OF EVENING was again in singular contrast to, while its gathering gloom was in as singular unison with, the passions of men. The sun was set, and the rays of the retiring luminary ceased to gild the edges of the few clouds that had sufficient openings to admit the passage of its fading light. The canopy overhead was heavy and dense, promising another night of darkness, but the surface of the lake was scarcely disturbed by a ripple. There was a little air, though it scarce deserved to be termed wind. Still, being damp and heavy it had a certain force. The party in the castle were as gloomy and silent as the scene. The two ransomed prisoners felt humbled and dishonored, but their humility partook of the rancor of revenge. They were far more disposed to remember the indignity with which they had been treated during the last few hours of their captivity, than to feel grateful for the previous indulgence. Then that keensighted monitor conscience, by reminding them of the retributive justice of all they had endured, goaded them, rather to turn the tables on their enemies, than to accuse themselves. As for the others, they were thoughtful equally from regret and joy. Deerslayer and Judith felt most of the former sensation, though from very different causes, while Hetty for the moment was perfectly happy. The Delaware had also lively pictures of felicity in the prospect of so soon regaining his betrothed. Under such circumstances, and in this mood, all were taking the evening meal.

  “Old Tom!” cried Hurry, bursting into a fit of boisterous laughter, “you look’d amazin’ly like a tethered bear, as you was stretched on them hemlock boughs, and I only wonder you did n’t growl, more. Well, it’s over, and syth’s and lamentations won’t mend the matter! There’s the blackguard Rivenoak, he that brought us off, has an oncommon scalp, and I’d give as much for it myself, as the colony. Yes, I feel as rich as the governor, in these matters now, and will lay down with ’em, doubloon for doubloon. Judith, darling, did you mourn for me much, when I was in the hands of the Philipsteins.”

  The last were a family of German descent on the Mohawk, to whom Hurry had a great antipathy, and whom he had confounded with the enemies of Judea.

  “Our tears have raised the lake, Harry March, as you might have seen by the shore!” returned Judith, with a feigned levity she was far from feeling. “That Hetty and I should have grieved for father was to be expected, but we fairly rained tears for you.”

  “We were sorry for poor Hurry, as well as for father, Judith!” put in her innocent and unconscious sister.

  “True, girl, true; but we feel sorrow for every body that’s in trouble, you know,” returned the other in a quick, admonitory manner and a low tone. “Nevertheless, we are glad to see you, Master March, and out of the hands of the Philipsteins, too.”

  “Yes, they’re a bad set, and so is the other brood of ’em, down on the river. It’s a wonderment to me, how you got us off, Deerslayer, and I forgive you the interference that prevented my doin’ justice on that vagabond, for this small sarvice. Let us into the secret, that we may do you the same good turn, at need. Was it by lying, or by coaxing?”

  “By neither, Hurry, but by buying. We paid a ransom for you both, and that, too, at a price so high, you had well be on your guard ag’in another captyvement, lest our stock of goods should’n’t hold out.”

  “A ransom!—Old Tom has paid the fiddler, then, for nothing of mine would have bought off the hair, much less the skin. I did’n’t think men as keen set as them vagabonds, would let a fellow up so easy, when they had him fairly at a close hug, and floored. But money is money and somehow it’s unnat’ral hard to withstand. Injin or White man, ’tis pretty much the same. It must be owned, Judith, there’s a considerable of human natur’ in mankind ginirally, arter all!”

  Hutter now rose, and signing to Deerslayer, he led him to an inner room, where, in answer to his questions he first learned the price that had been paid for his release. The old man expressed neither resentment nor surprise at the inroad that had been made on his chest, though he did manifest some curiosity to know how far the investigation of its contents had been carried. He also inquired where the key had been found. The habitual frankness of Deerslayer prevented any prevarication, and the conference soon terminated by the return of the two to the outer room, or that which served for the double purpose of parlor and kitchen.

  “I wonder if it’s peace or war, between us and the savages!” exclaimed Hurry, just as Deerslayer, who had paused for a single instant, listened attentively, and was passing through the outer door without stopping. “This givin’ up captives has a friendly look, and when men have traded together, on a fair and honorable footing, they ought to part fri’nds, for that occasion, at least. Come back, Deerslayer, and let us have your judgment, for I’m beginnin’ to think more of you, since your late behaviour, than I used to do.”

  “There’s an answer to your question, Hurry, since you’re in such haste to come, ag’in, to blows.”

  As Deerslayer spoke, he threw on the table, on which the other was reclining with one elbow, a sort of miniature faggot, composed of a dozen sticks bound tightly together with a deerskin thong. March seized it eagerly, and holding it close to a blazing knot of pine that lay on the hearth, and which gave out all the light there was in the room, ascertained that the ends of the several sticks had been dipped in blood.

  “If this is’n’t plain English,” said the reckless frontier man, “it’s plain Injin! Here’s what they call a dicliration of war, down at York, Judith. How did you come by this defiance, Deerslayer?”

  “Fairly enough. It lay, not a minut’ since, in what you call Floatin’ Tom’s door yard.”

  “How came it there? It never fell from the clouds, Judith, as little toads sometimes do, and then it don’t rain. You must prove where it come from, Deerslayer, or we shall suspect some design to skear them that would have lost their wits long ago, if fear could drive ’em away.”

  Deerslayer had approached a window, and cast a glance out of it, on the dark aspect of the lake. As if satisfied with what he beheld, he drew near Hurry, and took the bundle of sticks into his own hand, examining it attentively.

  “Yes, this is an Indian dicliration of war, sure enough,” he said, “and it’s a proof how little you’re suited to be on the path it has travelled, Harry March, that it has got here, and you never the wiser, as to the means. The savages may have left the scalp on your head, but they must have taken off the ears; else you’d have heard the stirring of the water made by the lad as he come off, ag’in, on his two logs. His ar’n’d was to throw these sticks at our door, as much as to say, we’ve struck the war post, since the trade, and the next thing will be to strike you.”

  “The prowling wolves! But hand me that rifle Judith, and I’ll send an answer back to the vagabonds, through their messenger.”

  “Not while I stand by, Master March,” coolly put in Deerslayer, motioning for the other to forbear. “Faith is faith, whether given to a redskin, or to a christian. The lad lighted a knot, and came off fairly, under its blaze, to give us this warning, and no man, here, should harm him, while empl’yed on such an ar’n’d. There’s no use in words, for the lad is too cunning to leave the knot burning, now his business is done, and the night is already too dark for a rifle to have any sartainty.”

  “That may be true enough, as to a gun, but there’s virtue still in a canoe,” answered Hurry passing towards the door, with enormous strides, carrying a rifle in his hands. “The being doesn’t live that shall stop me from following, and bringing back that riptyle’s scalp. The more on ’em, that you crush in the egg, the fewer they’ll be to dart at you in the woods!”

  Judith trembled like the aspen, she scarce knew why herself, though there was the prospect of a scene of vi
olence; for, if Hurry was fierce and overbearing in the consciousness of his vast strength, Deerslayer had about him the calm determination that promises greater perseverance, and a resolution more likely to effect its object. It was the stern, resolute eye of the latter, rather than the noisy vehemence of the first, that excited her apprehensions. Hurry soon reached the spot where the canoe was fastened, but not before Deerslayer had spoken in a quick, earnest voice to the Serpent in Delaware. The latter had been the first, in truth, to hear the sounds of the oars, and he had gone upon the platform, in jealous watchfulness. The light satisfied him that a message was coming, and when the boy cast his bundle of sticks at his feet, it neither moved his anger, nor induced surprise. He merely stood at watch, rifle in hand, to make certain that no treachery lay behind the defiance. As Deerslayer now called to him, he stepped into the canoe, and quick as thought removed the paddles. Hurry was furious when he found that he was deprived of the means of proceeding. He first approached the Indian with loud menaces, and even Deerslayer stood aghast at the probable consequences. March shook his sledge-hammer fists, and flourished his arms, as he drew near the Indian, and all expected he would attempt to fell the Delaware to the earth; one of them, at least, was well aware that such an experiment would be followed by immediate bloodshed. But even Hurry was awed by the stern composure of the chief, and he, too, knew that such a man was not to be outraged with impunity; he, therefore, turned to vent his rage on Deerslayer, where he foresaw no consequences so terrible. What might have been the result of this second demonstration if completed, is unknown, since it was never made.

  “Hurry,” said a gentle, soothing voice at his elbow—“it’s wicked to be so angry, and God will not overlook it. The Iroquois treated you well, and they did n’t take your scalp, though you and father wanted to take theirs.”

  The influence of mildness on passion is well known. Hetty, too, had earned a sort of consideration, that had never before been enjoyed by her, through the self-devotion and decision of her recent conduct. Perhaps her established mental imbecility, by removing all distrust of a wish to control, aided her influence. Let the cause be as questionable as it might, the effect was sufficiently certain. Instead of throttling his old fellow traveller, Hurry turned to the girl, and poured out a portion of his discontent, if none of his anger, on her attentive ears.

  “’Tis too bad, Hetty!” he exclaimed; “as bad as a county gaol, or a lack of beaver, to get a creatur’ into your very trap, and then to see it get off. As much as six first quality skins, in valie, has paddled off on them clumsy logs, when twenty strokes of a well turned paddle, would overtake ’em. I say in valie, for as to the boy in the way of natur’, he is only a boy, and is worth neither more nor less than one. Deerslayer, you’ve been ontrue to your fri’nds in letting such a chance slip through my fingers, as well as your own.”

  The answer was given quietly, but with a voice as steady as a fearless nature, and the consciousness of rectitude could make it.

  “I should have been ontrue to the right, had I done otherwise—” returned the Deerslayer, steadily, “and neither you, nor any other man has authority to demand that much of me. The lad came on a lawful business, and the meanest red-skin that roams the woods, would be ashamed of not respecting his ar’n’d. But he’s now far beyond your reach, Master March, and there’s little use in talking, like a couple of women, of what can no longer be helped.”

  So saying, Deerslayer turned away, like one resolved to waste no more words on the subject, while Hutter pulled Hurry by the sleeve, and led him into the Ark. There they sat long, in private conference. In the mean time, the Indian and his friend, had their secret consultation, for, though it wanted some three or four hours to the rising of the star, the former could not abstain from canvassing his scheme, and from opening his heart to the other. Judith, too, yielded to her softer feelings, and listened to the whole of Hetty’s artless narrative of what occurred after she had landed. The woods had few terrors for either of these girls, educated as they had been, and accustomed as they were to look out daily at their rich expanse, or to wander beneath their dark shades, but the elder sister felt that she would have hesitated about thus venturing alone into an Iroquois camp. Concerning Hist, Hetty was not very communicative. She spoke of her kindness, and gentleness and of the meeting in the forest, but the secret of Chingachgook was guarded with a shrewdness and fidelity, that many a sharper witted girl might have failed to display.

  At length the several conferences were broken up by the reappearance of Hutter on the platform. Here he assembled the whole party, and communicated as much of his intentions as he deemed expedient. Of the arrangement made by Deerslayer, to abandon the castle during the night, and to take refuge in the Ark he entirely approved. It struck him, as it had the others, as the only effectual means of escaping destruction. Now that the savages had turned their attention to the construction of rafts, no doubt could exist of their at least making an attempt to carry the building, and the message of the bloody sticks sufficiently showed their confidence in their own success. In short, the old man viewed the night as critical, and he called on all to get ready as soon as possible, in order to abandon the dwelling, temporarily, at least, if not forever.

  These communications made, every thing proceeded promptly and with intelligence. The castle was secured in the manner already described, the canoes were withdrawn from the dock, and fastened to the Ark, by the side of the other, the few necessaries that had been left in the house, were transferred to the cabin, the fire was extinguished, and all embarked.

  The vicinity of the hills, with their drapery of pines, had the effect to render nights that were obscure, darker than common, on the lake. As usual, however, a belt of comparative light was stretched through the centre of the sheet, while it was within the shadows of the mountains that the gloom rested most heavily on the water. The island, or castle, stood in this belt of comparative light, but still the night was so dark, as to cover the departure of the Ark. At the distance of an observer on the shore, her movements could not be seen at all, more particularly as a back ground of dark hillside filled up the perspective of every view that was taken diagonally, or directly across the water. The prevalent winds on the lakes of that region are west, but owing to the avenues formed by the mountains, it is frequently impossible to tell the true direction of the currents, as they often vary, within short distances, and brief differences of time. This is truer in light, fluctuating puffs of air, than in steady breezes, though the squalls of even the latter, are familiarly known to be uncertain and baffling in all mountainous regions and narrow waters. On the present occasion, Hutter himself, as he shoved the Ark from her berth, at the side of the platform, was at a loss to pronounce which way the wind blew. In common, this difficulty was solved by the clouds, which, floating high above the hill tops, as a matter of course obeyed the true currents, but now the whole vault of heaven seemed a mass of gloomy wall. Not an opening of any sort was visible, and Chingachgook was already trembling lest the non-appearance of the star might prevent his betrothed from being punctual to her appointment. Under these circumstances, Hutter hoisted his sail, seemingly with the sole intention of getting away from the castle, as it might be dangerous to remain much longer in its vicinity. The air soon filled the cloth; and when the scow was got under command, and the sail was properly trimmed, it was found that the direction was southerly, inclining towards the eastern shore. No better course offering for the purposes of the party, the singular craft was suffered to skim the surface of the water in this direction for more than an hour, when a change in the currents of the air drove them over towards the camp.

  Deerslayer watched all the movements of Hutter and Hurry, with jealous attention. At first, he did not know whether to ascribe the course they held to accident, or to design, but he now began to suspect the latter. Familiar as Hutter was with the lake, it was easy to deceive one who had little practice on the water, and let his intentions be what they might, it was evident, e
re two hours had elapsed, that the Ark had got over sufficient space to be within a hundred rods of the shore, directly abreast of the known position of the camp. For a considerable time previously to reaching this point, Hurry, who had some knowledge of the Algonquin languages, had been in close conference with the Indian, and the result was now announced by the latter to Deerslayer, who had been a cold, not to say distrusted, looker-on of all that passed.

  “My old father, and my young brother, the Big Pine,—” for so the Delaware had named March, “want to see Huron scalps at their belts,” said Chingachgook to his friend. “There is room for some on the girdle of the Serpent, and his people will look for them when he goes back to his village. Their eyes must not be left long in a fog, but they must see what they look for. I know that my brother has a white hand; he will not strike even the dead. He will wait for us; when we come back he will not hide his face from shame for his friend. The Great Serpent of the Mohicans, must be worthy to go on the warpath with Hawkeye.”

  “Ay—ay—Sarpent, I see how it is; that name’s to stick, and in time, I shall get to be known by it,” returned Deerslayer. “Well, if such honors will come, the humblest of us all must be willing to abide by ’em. As for you looking for scalps, it belongs to your gifts, and I see no harm in it. Be marciful, Sarpent, howsever; be marciful, I beseech of you. It surely can do no harm to a red skin’s honor to show a little marcy. As for the old man, the father of two young women who might ripen better feelin’s in his heart, and Harry March, here, who, pine as he is, might better bear the fruit of a more christianized tree, as for them two, I leave ’em in the hands of the white man’s god. Was’n’t it for the bloody sticks no man should go ag’in the Mingos this night, seein’ that it would dishonor our faith and characters; but them that crave blood, can’t complain if blood is shed at their call. Still, Sarpent, you can be marciful. Do’n’t begin your career with the wails of women, and the cries of children. Bear yourself so that Hist will smile, and not weep, when she meets you. Go, then; and the Manitou presarve you.”