Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “Has my paleface brother any more such beasts?” at last the senior of the Iroquois asked, in a sort of petitioning manner.

  “There’s more where them came from, Mingo,” was the answer; “one is enough, however, to buy off fifty scalps.”

  “One of my prisoners is a great warrior—tall as a pine—strong as the moose—active as a deer—fierce as the panther. Some day he’ll be a great chief, and lead the army of King George!”

  “Tut—tut—Mingo; Hurry Harry is Hurry Harry, and you’ll never make more than a corporal of him, if you do that. He’s tall enough, of a sartainty; but that’s of no use, as he only hits his head ag‘in the branches as he goes through the forest. He’s strong, too; but a strong body isn’t a strong head, and the King’s generals are not chosen for their sinews. He’s swift, if you will, but a rifle bullet is swifter; and as for f ’erceness, it’s no great ricommend to a soldier; they that think they feel the stoutest, often givin’ out at the pinch. No—no—you’ll never make Hurry’s scalp pass for more than a good head of curly hair, and a rattlepate beneath it!”

  “My old prisoner very wise—king of the lake—great warrior, wise counselor!”

  “Well, there’s them that might gainsay all this, too, Mingo. A very wise man wouldn’t be apt to be taken in so foolish a manner as befell Master Hutter; and if he gives good counsel, he must have listened to very bad in that affair. There’s only one king of this lake, and he’s a long way off, and isn’t likely ever to see it. Floating Tom is some such king of this region, as the wolf that prowls through the woods is king of the forest. A beast with two tails is well worth two such scalps! ”

  “But my brother has another beast. He will give two,” holding up as many fingers, “for old father.”

  “Floating Tom is no father of mine, but he’ll fare none the worse for that. As for giving two beasts for his scalp, and each beast with two tails, it is quite beyond reason. Think yourself well off, Mingo, if you make a much worse trade.”

  By this time the self-command of Rivenoak had got the better of his wonder, and he began to fall back on his usual habits of cunning, in order to drive the best bargain he could. It would be useless to relate more than the substance of the desultory dialogue that followed, in which the Indian manifested no little management, in endeavoring to recover the ground lost under the influence of surprise. He even affected to doubt whether any original for the image of the beast existed, and asserted that the oldest Indian had never heard a tradition of any such animal. Little did either of them imagine at the time that long ere a century elapsed, the progress of civilization would bring even much more extraordinary and rare animals into that region, as curiosities to be gazed at by the curious, and that the particular beast about which the disputants contended would be seen laving its sides and swimming in the very sheet of water on which they had met.j As is not uncommon on such occasions, one of the parties got a little warm in the course of the discussion; for Deerslayer met all the arguments and prevarications of this subtle opponent with his own cool directness of manner and unmoved love of truth. What an elephant was he knew little better than the savage; but he perfectly understood that the carved pieces of ivory must have some such value in the eyes of an Iroquois as a bag of gold, or a package of beaver-skins, would in those of a trader. Under the circumstances, therefore, he felt it to be prudent not to concede too much at first, since there existed a nearly unconquerable obstacle to making the transfers, even after the contracting parties had actually agreed upon the terms. Keeping this difficulty in view he held the extra chessmen in reserve as a means of smoothing any difficulty in the moment of need.

  At length the savage pretended that further negotiation was useless, since he could not be so unjust to his tribe as to part with the honor and emoluments of two excellent, full-grown male scalps, for a consideration so trifling as a toy like that he had seen—and he prepared to take his departure. Both parties now felt as men are wont to feel when a bargain that each is anxious to conclude is on the eve of being broken off in consequence of too much pertinacity in the way of management. The effect of the disappointment was very different, however, on the respective individuals. Deerslayer was mortified, and filled with regret; for he not only felt for the prisoners, but he also felt deeply for the two girls. The conclusion of the treaty, therefore, left him melancholy and full of regret. With the savage, his defeat produced the desire of revenge. In a moment of excitement, he loudly announced his intention to say no more; and he felt equally enraged with himself and with his cool opponent, that he had permitted a paleface to manifest more indifference and self-command than an Indian chief. When he began to urge his raft away from the platform, his countenance lowered, and his eye glowed even while he affected a smile of amity and a gesture of courtesy, at parting.

  It took some little time to overcome the vis inertiae of the logs, and while this was doing by the silent Indian, Rivenoak stalked over the hemlock boughs that lay between the logs, in sullen ferocity, eyeing keenly, the while, the hut, the platform, and the person of his late disputant. Once he spoke in low, quick terms to his companion, and he stirred the boughs with his feet like an animal that is restive. At that moment the watchfulness of Deerslayer had a little abated, for he sat musing on the means of renewing the negotiation without giving too much advantage to the other side. It was, perhaps, fortunate for him that the keen and bright eyes of Judith were as vigilant as ever. At the instant when the young man was least on his guard, and his enemy was the most on the alert, she called out in a warning voice to the former, most opportunely giving the alarm.

  “Be on your guard, Deerslayer!” the girl cried; “I see rifles, with the glass, beneath the hemlock brush, and the Iroquois is loosening them with his feet!”

  It would seem that the enemy had carried the artifices so far as to employ an agent who understood English. The previous dialogue had taken place in his own language, but it was evident, by the sudden manner in which his feet ceased their treacherous occupation, and in which the countenance of Rivenoak changed from sullen ferocity to a smile of courtesy, that the call of the girl was understood. Signing to his companion to cease his efforts to set the legs in motion, he advanced to the end of the raft which was nearest to the platform, and spoke.

  “Why should Rivenoak and his brother leave any cloud between them?” he said. “They are both wise, both brave, and both generous ; they ought to part friends. One beast shall be the price of one prisoner.”

  “And, Mingo,” answered the other, delighted to renew the negotiation on almost any terms, and determined to clench the bargain if possible by a little extra liberality, “you’ll see that a paleface knows how to pay a full price, when he trades with an open heart and an open hand. Keep the beast that you had forgotten to give back to me, as you was about to start, and which I forgot to ask for, on account of consarn at parting in anger. Show it to your chiefs. When you bring us our fri’nds two more shall be added to it—and,” hesitating a moment in distrust of the expediency of so great a concession, then deciding in its favor—“and, if we see them afore the sun sets, we may find a fourth to make up an even number.”

  This settled the matter. Every gleam of discontent vanished from the dark countenance of the Iroquois, and he smiled as graciously, if not as sweetly, as Judith Hutter herself The piece already in his possession was again examined, and an ejaculation of pleasure showed how much he was pleased with this unexpected termination of the affair. In point of fact, both he and Deerslayer had momentarily forgotten what had become of the subject of their discussion, in the warmth of their feelings; but such had not been the case with Rivenoak’s companion. This man retained the piece, and had fully made up his mind, were it claimed under such circumstances as to render its return necessary, to drop it in the lake, trusting to his being able to find it again at some future day This desperate expedient, however, was no longer necessary; and, after repeating the terms of agreement, and professing to understand them, the two Indian
s finally took their departure, moving slowly towards the shore.

  “Can any faith be put in such wretches?” asked Judith, when she and Hetty had come out on the platform, and were standing at the side of Deerslayer, watching the dull movement of the logs. “Will they not rather keep the toy they have, and send us off some bloody proofs of their getting the better of us in cunning, by way of boasting ? I’ve heard of acts as bad as this.”

  “No doubt, Judith; no manner of doubt, if it wasn’t for Indian natur’. But I’m no judge of a redskin, if that two-tailed beast doesn’t set the whole tribe in some such stir as a stick raises in a beehive! Now, there’s the Sarpent; a man with narves like flint, and no more cur’osity in everyday consarns than is befitting prudence. Why, he was so overcome with the sight of the creatur‘, carved as it is in bone, that I felt ashamed for him! That’s just their gifts, however, and one can’t well quarrel with a man for his gifts, when they are lawful. Chingachgook will soon get over his weakness, and remember that he’s a chief, and that he comes of a great stock, and has a renowned name to support and uphold; but, as for yonder scamps, there’ll be no peace among ’em until they think they’ve got possession of everything of the natur’ of that bit of carved bone that’s to be found among Thomas Hutter’s stores!”

  “They only know of the elephants, and can have no hopes about the other things.”

  “That’s true, Judith; still covetousness is a craving feelin’. They’ll say if the palefaces have these curious beasts with two tails, who knows but they’ve got some with three, or, for that matter, with four! That’s what the schoolmasters call nat’ral arithmetic, and ’twill be sartain to beset the feelin’s of savages. They’ll never be easy till the truth is known.”

  “Do you think, Deerslayer,” inquired Hetty, in her simple and innocent manner, “that the Iroquois won’t let father and Hurry go? I read to them several of the very best verses in the whole Bible, and you see what they have done already”

  The hunter, as he always did, listened kindly and even affectionately to Hetty’s remarks; then he mused a moment in silence. There was something like a flush on his cheek, as he answered after quite a minute had passed—

  “I don’t know whether a white man ought to be ashamed, or not, to own he can’t read; but such is my case, Judith.1 You are skillful, I find, in all such matters, while I have only studied the hand of God, as it is seen in the hills and the valleys, the mountaintops, the streams, the forest, and the springs. Much l‘arning may be got in this way, as well as out of books; and yet, I sometimes think it is a white man’s gift to read! When I hear from the mouths of the Moravians the words of which Hetty speaks, they raise a longing in my mind, and I think I will know how to read ’em myself; but the game in summer, and the traditions, and lessons in war, and other matters, have always kept me behindhand.”

  “Shall I teach you, Deerslayer?” asked Hetty, earnestly. “I’m weak-minded, they say, but I can read as well as Judith. It might save your life, to know how to read the Bible to the savages, and it will certainly save your soul; for mother told me that, again and again!”

  “Thankee, Hetty—yes, thankee, with all my heart. There are like to be too stirring times for much idleness; but, after it’s peace, and I come to see you ag‘in on this lake, then I’ll give myself up to it, as if ’twas pleasure and profit, in a single business. Perhaps I ought to be ashamed, Judith, that ‘tis so; but truth is truth. As for these Iroquois, ’tisn’t very likely they’ll forget a beast with two tails, on account of a varse or two from the Bible. I rather expect they’ll give up the prisoners, and trust to some sarcumvention or other to get ‘em back ag’in, with us and all in the castle, and the ark in the bargain. Howsever, we must humor the vagabonds first, to get your father and Hurry out of their hands, and next, to keep the peace atween us until such times as the Sarpent there can make out to get off his betrothed wife. If there’s any sudden outbreakin’ of anger and ferocity, the Indians will send off all their women and children to the camp, at once; whereas, by keeping ’em calm and trustful, we may manage to meet Hist at the spot she has mentioned. Rather than have the bargain fall through now, I’d throw in half a dozen of them effigy bow-and-arrow men, such as we’ve in plenty in the chist.”

  Judith cheerfully assented, for she would have resigned even the flowered brocade, rather than not redeem her father and please Deerslayer.

  The prospects of success were now so encouraging as to raise the spirits of all in the castle, though a due watchfulness on the movements of the enemy was maintained. Hour passed after hour, notwithstanding, and the sun had once more begun to fall towards the summits of the western hills, and yet no signs were seen of the return of the raft. By dint of sweeping the shore with the glass, Deerslayer at length discovered a place in the dense and dark woods, where, he entertained no doubt, the Iroquois were assembled in considerable numbers. It was near the thicket whence the raft had issued, and a little rill that trickled into the lake announced the vicinity of a spring. Here, then, the savages were probably holding their consultation, and the decision was to be made that went to settle the question of life or death for the prisoners. There was one ground for hope in spite of the delay, however, that Deerslayer did not fail to place before his anxious companions. It was far more probable that the Indians had left their prisoners in the camp, than that they had encumbered themselves, by causing them to follow through the woods, a party that was out on a merely temporary excursion. If such was the fact, it required considerable time to send a messenger the necessary distance, and to bring the two white men to the spot where they were to embark. Encouraged by these reflections, a new stock of patience was gathered, and the declension of the sun was viewed with less alarm.

  The result justified Deerslayer’s conjecture. Not long before the sun had finally disappeared, the two logs were seen coming out of the thicket again; and, as it drew near, Judith announced that her father and Hurry, both of them pinioned, lay on the bushes in the center. As before, the Indians were rowing. The latter seemed to be conscious that the lateness of the hour demanded unusual exertions, and contrary to the habits of their people, who are ever averse to toil, they labored hard at the rude substitutes for oars. In consequence of this diligence the raft occupied its old station in about half the time that had been taken in the previous visits.

  Even after the conditions were so well understood, and matters had proceeded so far, the actual transfer of the prisoners was not a duty to be executed without difficulty. The Iroquois were compelled to place great reliance on the good faith of their foes, though it was reluctantly given, and was yielded to necessity rather than to confidence. As soon as Hutter and Hurry should be released the party in the castle numbered two to one, as opposed to those on the raft, and escape by flight was out of the question, as the former had three bark canoes, to say nothing of the defenses of the house and the ark. All this was understood by both parties, and it is probable the arrangement never could have been completed, had not the honest countenance and manner of Deerslayer wrought their usual effect on Rivenoak.

  “My brother knows I put faith in him,” said the latter as he advanced with Hutter, whose legs had been released to enable the old man to ascend to the platform. “One scalp—one more beast.”

  “Stop, Mingo,” interrupted the hunter, “keep your prisoner a moment. I have to go and seek the means of payment.”

  This excuse, however, though true in part, was principally a fetch. Deerslayer left the platform, and entering the house, he directed Judith to collect all the arms, and to conceal them in her own room. He then spoke earnestly to the Delaware who stood on guard as before, near the entrance of the building, put the three remaining castles in his pocket, and returned.

  “You are welcome back to your old abode, Master Hutter,” said Deerslayer, as he helped the other up on the platform, slyly passing into the hand of Rivenoak, at the same time, another of the castles. “You’ll find your darters right glad to see you; and here�
��s Hetty come herself to say as much in her own behalf.”

  Here the hunter stopped speaking and broke out into a hearty fit of his silent and peculiar laughter. Hurry’s legs were just released, and he had been placed on his feet. So tightly had the ligatures been drawn, that the use of his limbs was not immediately recovered, and the young giant presented, in good sooth, a very helpless and a somewhat ludicrous picture. It was this unusual spectacle, particularly the bewildered countenance, that excited the merriment of Deerslayer.

  “You look like a girdled pine in a clearin’, Harry Hurry, that is rocking in a gale,” said Deerslayer, checking his unseasonable mirth, more from delicacy to the others than from any respect to the liberated captive. “I’m glad, howsever, to see that you haven’t had your hair dressed by any of the Iroquois barbers, in your late visit to their camp.”

  “Harkee, Deerslayer,” returned the other, a little fiercely; “it will be prudent for you to deal less in mirth and more in friendship on this occasion. Act like a Christian, for once, and not like a laughing gal in a country school when the master’s back is turned, and just tell me whether there’s any feet or not at the end of these legs of mine. I think I can see them, but as for feelin’, they might as well be down on the banks of the Mohawk, as where they seem to be.”

  “You’ve come off whole, Hurry, and that’s not a little,” answered the other, secretly passing to the Indian the remainder of the stipulated ransom, and making an earnest sign, at the same moment, for him to commence his retreat. “You’ve come off whole, feet and all, and are only a little numb, from a tight fit of the withes. Natur’ll soon set the blood in motion, and then you may begin to dance, to celebrate what I call a most wonderful and onexpected deliverance from a den of wolves.”