The Leatherstocking Tales II

by James Fenimore Cooper

  The Huron listened to this rebuke with obvious disgust, but he had his ends in view, and was too wily to lose all chance of effecting them, by a precipitate avowal of resentment. Affecting to smile, he seemed to listen eagerly, and he then pondered on what he had heard.

  “Does Hawkeye love the Muskrat,” he abruptly demanded. “Or does he love his daughters?”

  “Neither, Mingo. Old Tom is not a man to gain my love, and, as for the darters, they are comely enough to gain the liking of any young man, but there’s reason ag’in any very great love for either. Hetty is a good soul, but natur’ has laid a heavy hand on her mind, poor thing!”

  “And the Wild Rose!” exclaimed the Huron—for the fame of Judith’s beauty had spread among those who could travel the wilderness, as well as the highway, by means of old eagles’ nests, rocks, and riven trees, known to them by report and tradition, as well as among the white borderers, “And the Wild Rose; is she not sweet enough to be put in the bosom of my brother?”

  Deerslayer had far too much of the innate gentleman to insinuate aught against the fair fame of one who, by nature and position was so helpless, and as he did not choose to utter an untruth, he preferred being silent. The Huron mistook the motive, and supposed that disappointed affection lay at the bottom of his reserve. Still bent on corrupting, or bribing his captive, in order to obtain possession of the treasures with which his imagination filled the Castle, he persevered in his attack.

  “Hawkeye is talking with a friend,” he continued. “He knows that Rivenoak is a man of his word, for they have traded together, and trade opens the soul. My friend has come here, on account of a little string held by a girl, that can pull the whole body of the sternest warrior?”

  “You are nearer the truth, now, Huron, than you’ve been afore, since we began to talk. This is true. But one end of that string was not fast to my heart, nor did the Wild Rose hold the other.”

  “This is wonderful! Does my brother love in his head, and not in his heart? And can the Feeble Mind pull so hard against so stout a warrior?”

  “There it is ag’in; sometimes right, and sometimes wrong! The string you mean, is fast to the heart of a great Delaware; one of Mohican stock in fact, living among the Delawares since the disparsion of his own people, and of the family of Uncas—Chingachgook by name, or Great Sarpent. He has come here, led by the string, and I’ve followed, or rather come afore, for I got here first, pulled by nothing stronger than fri’ndship; which is strong enough for such as are not niggardly of their feelin’s, and are willing to live a little for their fellow creatur’s, as well as for themselves.”

  “But a string has two ends—one is fast to the mind of a Mohican; and the other?”—

  “Why the other was here close to the fire, half an hour since. Wah-ta!-Wah held it in her hand, if she did’n’t hold it to her heart.”

  “I understand what you mean, my brother,” returned the Indian gravely, for the first time catching a direct clue to the adventures of the evening. “The Great Serpent, being strongest, pulled the hardest, and Hist was forced to leave us.”

  “I do’n’t think there was much pulling about it,” answered the other, laughing, always in his silent manner, with as much heartiness as if he were not a captive, and in danger of torture or death—“I do’n’t think there was much pulling about it; no I do’n’t. Lord help you, Huron! He likes the gal, and the gal likes him, and it surpassed Huron sarcumventions to keep two young people apart, where there was so strong a feelin’ to bring ’em together.”

  “And Hawkeye and Chingachgook came into our camp on this errand, only?”

  “That’s a question that’ll answer itself, Mingo! Yes, if a question could talk it would answer itself, to your parfect satisfaction. For what else should we come? And yet, it is’n’t exactly so, neither; for we did’n’t come into your camp at all, but only as far as that pine, there, that you see on the other side of the ridge, where we stood watching your movements, and conduct, as long as we liked. When we were ready, the Sarpent gave his signal, and then all went just as it should, down to the moment when yonder vagabond leaped upon my back. Sartain; we come for that, and for no other purpose, and we got what we come for; there’s no use in pretending otherwise. Hist is off with a man who’s the next thing to her husband, and come what will to me, that’s one good thing detarmined.”

  “What sign, or signal, told the young maiden that her lover was nigh?” asked the Huron with more curiosity than it was usual for him to betray.

  Deerslayer laughed again, and seem’d to enjoy the success of the exploit, with as much glee, as if he had not been its victim.

  “Your squirrels are great gadabouts, Mingo,” he cried still laughing—“yes, they’re sartainly, great gadabouts! When other folk’s squirrels are at home and asleep, yourn keep in motion among the trees, and chirrup and sing, in a way that even a Delaware gal can understand their musick! Well, there’s four legged squirrels, and there’s two legged squirrels, and give me the last, when there’s a good tight string atween two hearts. If one brings ’em together, t’other tells when to pull hardest!”

  The Huron look’d vexed, though he succeeded in suppressing any violent exhibition of resentment. He now quitted his prisoner, and joining the rest of the warriors, he communicated the substance of what he had learned. As in his own case, admiration was mingled with anger, at the boldness and success of their enemies. Three or four of them ascended the little acclivity and gazed at the tree where it was understood the adventurers had posted themselves, and one even descended to it, and examined for foot prints around its roots, in order to make sure that the statement was true. The result confirmed the story of the captive, and they all returned to the fire, with increased wonder and respect. The messenger who had arrived with some communication from the party above, while the two adventurers were watching the camp, was now despatched with some answer, and doubtless bore with him the intelligence of all that had happened.

  Down to this moment, the young Indian who had been seen walking in company with Hist and another female, had made no advances to any communication with Deerslayer. He had held himself aloof from his friends even, passing near the bevy of younger women, who were clustering together, apart as usual, and conversed in low tones on the subject of the escape of their late companion. Perhaps it would be true to say, that these last were pleased as well as vexed at what had just occurred. Their female sympathies were with the lovers, while their pride was bound up in the success of their own tribe. It is possible too, that the superior personal advantages of Hist, rendered her dangerous to some of the younger part of the group, and they were not sorry to find she was no longer in the way of their own ascendency. On the whole, however, the better feeling was most prevalent, for neither the wild condition in which they lived, the clannish prejudices of tribes, nor their hard fortunes as Indian women, could entirely conquer the inextinguishable leaning of their sex to the affections. One of the girls even laughed at the disconsolate look of the swain who might fancy himself deserted, a circumstance that seemed suddenly to arouse his energies, and induce him to move towards the log, on which the prisoner was still seated, drying his clothes.

  “This is Catamount!” said the Indian, striking his hand boastfully on his naked breast, as he uttered the words in a manner to show how much weight he expected them to carry.

  “This is Hawkeye—” quietly returned Deerslayer, adopting the name by which he knew he would be known in future, among all the tribes of the Iroquois. “My sight is keen—is my brother’s leap long?”

  “From here to the Delaware villages. Hawkeye has stolen my wife—he must bring her back, or his scalp will hang on a pole, and dry in my wigwam.”

  “Hawkeye has stolen nothing, Huron. He does’n’t come of a thieving breed, nor has he thieving gifts. Your wife, as you call Wah-ta!-Wah, will never be the wife of any red skin of the Canadas; her mind is in the cabin of a Delaware, and her body has gone to find it. The catamount is actyve I know
, but its legs can’t keep pace with a woman’s wishes.”

  “The Serpent of the Delawares is a dog—he is a poor bull-pout, that keeps in the water; he is afraid to stand on the hard earth, like a brave Indian!”

  “Well, well, Huron, that’s pretty impudent, considering it’s not an hour since the Sarpent stood within a hundred feet of you, and would have tried the toughness of your skin with a rifle bullet, when I pointed you out to him, had’n’t I laid the weight of a little judgment on his hand. You may take in timersome gals in the settlements, with your catamount whine, but the ears of a man can tell truth from ontruth.”

  “Hist laughs at him! She sees he is lame, and a poor hunter, and he has never been on a war path. She will take a man for a husband, and not a fish.”

  “How do you know that, Catamount; how do you know that,” returned Deerslayer laughing. “She has gone into the lake, you see, and may be she prefars a trout to a mongrel cat. As for war paths, neither the Sarpent nor I, have much exper’ence, we are ready to own, but if you do n’t call this one, you must tarm it, what the gals in the settlements tarm it, the high road to matrimony. Take my advice Catamount, and s’arch for a wife among the Huron women; you’ll never get one, with a willing mind, from among the Delawares.”

  Catamount’s hand felt for his tomahawk, and when the fingers reached the handle, they worked convulsively, as if their owner hesitated between policy and resentment. At this critical moment Rivenoak approached, and by a gesture of authority, induced the young man to retire, assuming his former position, himself, on the log, at the side of Deerslayer. Here he continued silent for a little time, maintaining the grave reserve of an Indian chief

  “Hawkeye is right—” the Iroquois at length began; “his sight is so strong that he can see truth in a dark night, and our eyes have been blinded. He is an owl, darkness hiding nothing from him. He ought not to strike his friends. He is right.”

  “I’m glad you think so, Mingo,” returned the other, “for a traitor, in my judgment, is worse than a coward. I care as little for the Muskrat, as one pale face ought to care for another, but I care too much for him, to ambush him in the way you wished. In short, according to my idees, any sarcumventions, except open-war sarcumventions, are ag’in both law, and what we whites call ‘gospel’, too.”

  “My pale-face brother is right; he is no Indian, to forget his Manitou and his colour. The Hurons know that they have a great warrior for their prisoner, and they will treat him as one. If he is to be tortured, his torments shall be such as no common man can bear; if he is to be treated as a friend, it will be the friendship of chiefs.”

  As the Huron uttered this extraordinary assurance of consideration, his eye furtively glanced at the countenance of his listener, in order to discover how he stood the compliment, though his gravity and apparent sincerity would have prevented any man but one practised in artifices, from detecting his motives. Deerslayer belonged to the class of the unsuspicious, and acquainted with the Indian notions of what constitutes respect, in matters connected with the treatment of captives, he felt his blood chill at the announcement, even while he maintained an aspect so steeled that his quick sighted enemy could discover in it, no signs of weakness.

  “God has put me in your hands, Huron,” the captive at length answered, “and I suppose you will act your will on me. I shall not boast of what I can do, under torment, for I’ve never been tried, and no man can say ’till he has been; but I’ll do my endivours not to disgrace the people among whom I got my training. Howsever, I wish you now to bear witness that I’m altogether of white blood, and, in a nat’ral way of white gifts too; so, should I be overcome and forget myself, I hope you’ll lay the fault where it properly belongs, and, in no manner put it on the Delawares, or their allies and friends the Mohicans. We’re all created with more or less weakness, and I’m afeard it’s a pale face’s to give in, under great bodily torment, when a red skin will sing his songs, and boast of his deeds in the very teeth of his foes.”

  “We shall see. Hawkeye has a good countenance, and he is tough—But why should he be tormented, when the Hurons love him?—He is not born their enemy, and the death of one warrior will not cast a cloud between them forever.”

  “So much the better, Huron; so much the better. Still I do’n’t wish to owe any thing to a mistake about each other’s meaning. It is so much the better that you bear no malice for the loss of a warrior who fell in war, and yet it is ontrue that there is no inmity—lawful inmity I mean—atween us. So far as I have red skin feelin’s at all, I’ve Delaware feelin’s, and I leave you to judge for yourself how far they are likely to be fri’ndly to the Mingos”—

  Deerslayer ceased, for a sort of spectre stood before him, that put a stop to his words, and, indeed, caused him for a moment to doubt the fidelity of his boasted vision. Hetty Hutter was standing at the side of the fire as quietly as if she belonged to the tribe.

  As the hunter and the Indian sat watching the emotions that were betrayed in each other’s countenance, the girl had approached unnoticed, doubtless ascending from the beach on the southern side of the point, or that next to the spot where the Ark had anchored, and had advanced to the fire with the fearlessness that belonged to her simplicity, and which was certainly justified by the treatment formerly received from the Indians. As soon as Rivenoak perceived the girl, she was recognised, and calling to two or three of the younger warriors, the chief sent them out to reconnoitre, lest her appearance should be the forerunner of another attack. He then motioned to Hetty to draw near.

  “I hope your visit is a sign that the Sarpent and Hist are in safety, Hetty,” said Deerslayer, as soon as the girl had complied with the Huron’s request. “I do’n’t think you’d come ashore ag’in, on the ar’n’d that brought you here afore.”

  “Judith told me to come this time, Deerslayer,” Hetty replied, “she paddled me ashore herself, in a canoe as soon as the Serpent had shown her Hist, and told his story. How handsome Hist is to-night, Deerslayer, and how much happier she looks than when she was with the Hurons!”

  “That’s natur’ gal; yes, that may be set down as human natur’. She’s with her betrothed, and no longer fears a Mingo husband. In my judgment, Judith, herself, would lose most of her beauty if she thought she was to bestow it all on a Mingo! Content is a great fortifier of good looks, and I’ll warrant you, Hist is contented enough, now she is out of the hands of these miscreants, and with her chosen warrior! Did you say that Judith told you to come ashore—why should your sister do that?”

  “She bid me come to see you, and to try and persuade the savages to take more elephants to let you off, but I’ve brought the bible with me—that will do more than all the elephants in father’s chest!”

  “And your father, good little Hetty—and Hurry; did they know of your ar’n’d?”

  “Not they. Both are asleep, and Judith and the Serpent thought it best they should not be woke, lest they might want to come again after scalps, when Hist had told them how few warriors, and how many women and children there were in the camp. Judith would give me no peace, ’till I had come ashore to see what had happened to you.”

  “Well, that’s remarkable as consarns Judith! Why should she feel so much unsartainty about me?—Ah—I see how it is, now; yes, I see into the whole matter, now. You must understand, Hetty, that your sister is oneasy lest Harry March should wake, and come blundering here into the hands of the inimy ag’in, under some idee that, being a travelling comrade, he ought to help me in this matter! Hurry is a blunderer, I will allow, but I do n’t think he’d risk as much for my sake, as he would for his own.”

  “Judith do n’t care for Hurry, though Hurry cares for her,” replied Hetty innocently, but quite positively.

  “I’ve heard you say as much as that afore; yes, I’ve heard that from you, afore, gal, and yet it is n’t true. One don’t live in a tribe, not to see something of the way in which liking works in a woman’s heart. Though no way given to marrying myself, I’v
e been a looker on among the Delawares, and this is a matter in which pale-face and red skin gifts are all as one as the same. When the feelin’ begins, the young woman is thoughtful, and has no eyes or ears onless for the warrior that has taken her fancy; then follows melancholy and sighing, and such sort of actions; after which, especially if matters don’t come to plain discourse, she often flies round to back biting and fault finding, blaming the youth for the very things she likes best in him. Some young creatur’s are forward in this way of showing their love, and I’m of opinion, Judith is one of ’em. Now, I’ve heard her as much as deny that Hurry was good-looking, and the young woman who could do that, must be far gone indeed!”

  “The young woman who liked Hurry would own that he is handsome. I think Hurry very handsome, Deerslayer, and I’m sure every body must think so, that has eyes. Judith do n’t like Harry March, and that’s the reason she finds fault with him.”

  “Well—well—my good little Hetty, have it your own way. If we should talk from now ’till winter, each would think as at present, and there’s no use in words. I must believe that Judith is much wrapped up in Hurry, and that, sooner or later, she’ll have him; and this, too, all the more from the manner in which she abuses him; and I dare to say, you think just the contrary. But mind what I now tell you, gal, and pretend not to know it—” continued this being, who was so obtuse on a point on which men are usually quick enough to make discoveries, and so acute in matters that would baffle the observation of much the greater portion of mankind, “I see how it is, with them vagabonds. Rivenoak has left us, you see, and is talking yonder with his young men, and though too far to be heard, I can see what he is telling them. Their orders is to watch your movements, and to find where the canoe is to meet you, to take you back to the Ark, and then to seize all and what they can. I’m sorry Judith sent you, for I suppose she wants you to go back ag’in.”