The Deerslayer; or, The First Warpath . . . Volume 2

by James Fenimore Cooper

  THE DEERSLAYER: OR, THE FIRST WAR-PATH. A TALE. BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS,” “THE PATHFINDER,” “THE PIONEERS,” AND “THE PRAIRIE.” --“What Terrors round him wait!

  Amazement in his van, with Flight combined,

  And Sorrow’s faded form, and Solitude behind.”

  IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. PHILADELPHIA: LEA & BLANCHARD. 1841. Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1841, by J. FENIMORE COOPER, in the Clerk’s office of the District Court of the United States in and for the northern district of New York. J. FAGAN, STEREOTYPER. I. ASHMEAD, PRINTER.

  THE DEERSLAYER. CHAPTER I.

  “I hear thee babbling to the vale

  Of sunshine and of flowers,

  But unto me thou bring’st a tale

  Of visionary hours.”

  Wordsworth. The discovery mentioned at the close of the preceding chapter, was of great moment in the eyes of Deerslayer and his friend. In the first place, there was the danger, almost the certainty, that Hutter and Hurry would make a fresh attempt on this camp, should they awake and ascertain its position. Then there was the increased risk of landing to bring off Hist; and there were the general uncertainty and additional hazards that must follow from the circumstance that their enemies had begun to change their positions. As the Delaware was aware that the hour was near when he ought to repair to the rendezvous, he no longer thought of trophies torn from his foes; and one of the first things arranged between him and his associate, was to permit the two others to sleep on, lest they should disturb the execution of their plans, by substituting some of their own. The ark moved slowly, and it would have taken fully a quarter of an hour to reach the point, at the rate at which they were going; thus affording time for a little forethought. The Indians, in the wish to conceal their fire from those who were thought to be still in the castle, had placed it so near the southern side of the point, as to render it extremely difficult to shut it in by the bushes, though Deerslayer varied the direction of the scow, both to the right and to the left, in the hope of being able to effect that object.

  “There’s one advantage, Judith, in finding that fire so near the water,” he said, while executing these little manœuvres; “since it shows the Mingos believe we are in the hut, and our coming on ’em, from this quarter, will be an onlooked for event. But ’tis lucky Harry March and your father are asleep, else we should have ’em prowling after scalps ag’in. Ha! there--the bushes are beginning to shut in the fire--and now it can’t be seen at all!”

  Deerslayer waited a little to make certain that he had at last gained the desired position, when he gave the signal agreed on, and Chingachgook let go the grapnel, and lowered the sail.

  The situation in which the ark now lay had its advantages, and its disadvantages. The fire had been hid by sheering towards the shore, and the latter was nearer perhaps than was desirable. Still, the water was known to be very deep further off in the lake, and anchoring in deep water, under the circumstances in which the party was placed, was to be avoided, if possible. It was also believed no raft could be within miles; and, though the trees in the darkness appeared almost to overhang the scow, it would not be easy to get off to her, without using a boat. The intense darkness that prevailed so close in with the forest, too, served as an effectual screen; and so long as care was had not to make a noise, there was little or no danger of being detected. All these things Deerslayer pointed out to Judith, instructing her as to the course she was to follow in the event of an alarm; for it was thought to the last degree inexpedient to arouse the sleepers, unless it might be in the greatest emergency.

  “And now, Judith, as we understand one another, it is time the Sarpent and I had taken to the canoe,” the hunter concluded. “The star has not risen yet, it’s true; but it soon must, though none of us are likely to be any the wiser for it, to-night, on account of the clouds. Howsever, Hist has a ready mind, and she’s one of them that doesn’t always need to have a thing afore her, to see it. I’ll warrant you she’ll not be either two minutes, or two feet, out of the way, unless them jealous vagabonds, the Mingos, have taken the alarm, and put her as a stool-pigeon to catch us; or have hid her away, in order to prepare her mind for a Huron instead of a Mohican husband.”

  “Deerslayer,” interrupted the girl, earnestly; “this is a most dangerous service; why do you go on it, at all?”

  “Anan!--Why you know, gal, we go to bring off Hist, the Sarpent’s betrothed--the maid he means to marry, as soon as we get back to the tribe.”

  “That is all right for the Indian--but you do not mean to marry Hist,--you are not betrothed, and why should two risk their lives and liberties, to do that which one can just as well perform?”

  “Ah!--now I understand you, Judith--yes, now I begin to take the idee. You think as Hist is the Sarpent’s betrothed, as they call it, and not mine, it’s altogether his affair; and as one man can paddle a canoe, he ought to be left to go after his gal alone! But you forget this is our ar’n’d here, on the lake, and it would not tell well to forget an ar’n’d just as the pinch came. Then, if love does count for so much with some people, particularly with young women, fri’ndship counts for something, too, with other some. I dares to say, the Delaware can paddle a canoe by himself, and can bring off Hist by himself, and perhaps he would like that quite as well, as to have me with him; but he couldn’t sarcumvent sarcumventions, or stir up an ambushment, or fight with the savages, and get his sweetheart at the same time, as well by himself as if he had a fri’nd with him, to depend on, even if that fri’nd is no better than myself. No--no--Judith, you wouldn’t desart one that counted on you, at such a moment, and you can’t, in reason, expect me to do it.”

  “I fear--I believe you are right, Deerslayer; and yet I wish you were not to go! Promise me one thing, at least, and that is, not to trust yourself among the savages, or to do anything more than to save the girl. That will be enough for once, and with that you ought to be satisfied.”

  “Lord bless you! gal; one would think it was Hetty that’s talking, and not the quick-witted, and wonderful Judith Hutter! But fright makes the wise, silly, and the strong, weak. Yes, I’ve seen proofs of that, time and ag’in! Well, it’s kind, and soft-hearted in you, Judith, to feel this consarn for a fellow creatur’, and I shall always say that you are kind and of true feelings, let them that envy your good looks, tell as many idle stories of you as they may.”

  “Deerslayer!” hastily said the girl, interrupting him, though nearly choked by her own emotions; “do you believe all you hear about a poor, motherless girl? Is the foul tongue of Hurry Harry to blast my life!”

  “Not it, Judith--not it. I’ve told Hurry it wasn’t manful to backbite them he couldn’t win by fair means; and that even an Indian is always tender, touching a young woman’s good name.”

  “If I had a brother, he wouldn’t dare to do it!” exclaimed Judith, with eyes flashing fire. “But, finding me without any protector but an old man, whose ears are getting to be as dull as his feelings, he has his way as he pleases!”

  “Not exactly that, Judith; no, not exactly that, neither! No man, brother or stranger, would stand by and see as fair a gal as yourself hunted down, without saying a word in her behalf. Hurry’s in ’arnest in wanting to make you his wife, and the little he does let out ag’in you, comes more from jealousy, like, than from any thing else. Smile on him when he awakes, and squeeze his hand only half as hard as you squeezed mine a bit ago, and my life on it, the poor fellow will forget every thing but your comeliness. Hot words don’t always come from the heart, but oftener from the stomach, than anywhere else. Try him, Jud
ith, when he wakes, and see the vartue of a smile.”

  Deerslayer laughed, in his own manner, as he concluded, and then he intimated to the patient-looking, but really impatient Chingachgook, his readiness to proceed. As the young man entered the canoe, the girl stood immoveable as stone, lost in the musings that the language and manner of the other were likely to produce. The simplicity of the hunter had completely put her at fault; for, in her narrow sphere, Judith was an expert manager of the other sex; though in the present instance she was far more actuated by impulses, in all she had said and done, than by calculation. We shall not deny that some of Judith’s reflections were bitter, though the sequel of the tale must be referred to, in order to explain how merited, or how keen were her sufferings.

  Chingachgook, and his pale-face friend, set forth on their hazardous and delicate enterprise, with a coolness and method that would have done credit to men who were on their twentieth, instead of being on their first, war-path. As suited his relation to the pretty fugitive, in whose service they were engaged, the Indian took his place in the head of the canoe; while Deerslayer guided its movements in the stern. By this arrangement, the former would be the first to land, and of course the first to meet his mistress. The latter had taken his post, without comment, but in secret influenced by the reflection that one who had so much at stake as the Indian, might not possibly guide the canoe with the same steadiness and intelligence, as another who had more command of his feelings. From the instant they left the side of the ark, the movements of the two adventurers were like the manœuvres of highly-drilled soldiers, who for the first time were called on to meet the enemy in the field. As yet, Chingachgook had never fired a shot in anger, and the debût of his companion in warfare, is known to the reader. It is true, the Indian had been hanging about his enemy’s camp for a few hours, on his first arrival, and he had even once entered it, as related in the last chapter, but no consequences had followed either experiment. Now, it was certain that an important result was to be effected, or a mortifying failure was to ensue. The rescue, or the continued captivity of Hist, depended on the enterprise. In a word, it was virtually the maiden expedition of these two ambitious young forest soldiers; and while one of them set forth, impelled by sentiments that usually carry men so far, both had all their feelings of pride and manhood enlisted in their success.

  Instead of steering in a direct line to the point, then distant from the ark less than a quarter of a mile, Deerslayer laid the head of his canoe diagonally towards the centre of the lake, with a view to obtain a position, from which he might approach the shore, having his enemies in his front only. The spot where Hetty had landed, and where Hist had promised to meet them, moreover, was on the upper side of the projection, rather than on the lower; and to reach it, would have required the adventurers to double nearly the whole point, close in with the shore, had not this preliminary step been taken. So well was the necessity for this measure understood, that Chingachgook quietly paddled on, although it was adopted without consulting him, and apparently was taking him in a direction nearly opposite to that one might think he most wished to go. A few minutes sufficed, however, to carry the canoe the necessary distance, when both the young men ceased paddling as it were by instinctive consent, and the boat became stationary.

  The darkness increased rather than diminished, but it was still possible, from the place where the adventurers lay, to distinguish the outlines of the mountains. In vain did the Delaware turn his head eastward, to catch a glimpse of the promised star; for, notwithstanding the clouds broke a little near the horizon, in that quarter of the heavens, the curtain continued so far drawn as effectually to conceal all behind it. In front, as was known by the formation of land above and behind it, lay the point, at a distance of about a thousand feet. No signs of the castle could be seen, nor could any movement in that quarter of the lake reach the ear. The latter circumstance might have been equally owing to the distance, which was several miles, or to the fact that nothing was in motion. As for the ark, though scarcely farther from the canoe than the point, it lay so completely buried in the shadows of the shore, that it would not have been visible even had there been many degrees more of light than actually existed.

  The adventurers now held a conference in low voices, consulting together as to the probable time. Deerslayer thought it wanted yet some minutes to the rising of the star, while the impatience of the chief caused him to fancy the night further advanced, and to believe that his betrothed was already waiting his appearance on the shore. As might have been expected, the opinion of the latter prevailed, and his friend disposed himself to steer for the place of rendezvous. The utmost skill and precaution now became necessary in the management of the canoe. The paddles were lifted, and returned to the water in a noiseless manner; and when within a hundred yards of the beach, Chingachgook took in his, altogether, laying his hand on his rifle in its stead. As they got still more within the belt of darkness that girded the woods, it was seen that they were steering too far north, and the course was altered accordingly. The canoe now seemed to move by instinct, so cautious and deliberate were all its motions. Still it continued to advance, until its bows grated on the gravel of the beach, at the precise spot where Hetty had landed, and whence her voice had issued, the previous night, as the ark was passing. There was, as usual, a narrow strand, but bushes fringed the woods, and in most places overhung the water.

  Chingachgook stepped upon the beach, and cautiously examined it, for some distance, on each side of the canoe. In order to do this, he was often obliged to wade to his knees in the lake, but no Hist rewarded his search. When he returned, he found his friend also on the shore. They next conferred in whispers, the Indian apprehending that they must have mistaken the place of rendezvous. But Deerslayer thought it was probable they had mistaken the hour. While he was yet speaking, he grasped the arm of the Delaware, caused him to turn his head in the direction of the lake, and pointed towards the summits of the eastern mountains. The clouds had broken a little, apparently behind rather than above the hills, and the selected star was glittering among the branches of a pine. This was every way a flattering omen, and the young men leaned on their rifles, listening intently for the sound of approaching footsteps. Voices they often heard, and mingled with them were the suppressed cries of children, and the low but sweet laugh of Indian women. As the native Americans are habitually cautious, and seldom break out in loud conversation, the adventurers knew by these facts, that they must be very near the encampment. It was easy to perceive that there was a fire within the woods, by the manner in which some of the upper branches of the trees were illuminated, but it was not possible, where they stood, to ascertain exactly how near it was to themselves. Once or twice, it seemed as if stragglers from around the fire, were approaching the place of rendezvous; but these sounds were either altogether illusion, or those who had drawn near, returned again without coming to the shore. A quarter of an hour was passed in this state of intense expectation and anxiety, when Deerslayer proposed that they should circle the point in the canoe; and by getting a position close in, where the camp could be seen, reconnoitre the Indians, and thus enable themselves to form some plausible conjectures for the non-appearance of Hist. The Delaware, however, resolutely refused to quit the spot, reasonably enough offering as a reason, the disappointment of the girl, should she arrive in his absence. Deerslayer felt for his friend’s concern, and offered to make the circuit of the point by himself, leaving the latter concealed in the bushes to await the occurrence of any fortunate event that might favour his views. With this understanding, then, the parties separated.

  As soon as Deerslayer was at his post again, in the stern of the canoe, he left the shore with the same precautions, and in the same noiseless manner, as he had approached it. On this occasion he did not go far from the land, the bushes affording a sufficient cover, by keeping as close in as possible. Indeed, it would not have been easy to devise any means more favourable to reconnoitring round an Indian camp, t
han those afforded by the actual state of things. The formation of the point permitted the place to be circled on three of its sides, and the progress of the boat was so noiseless as to remove any apprehensions from an alarm through sound. The most practised and guarded foot might stir a bunch of leaves, or snap a dried stick, in the dark, but a bark canoe could be made to float over the surface of smooth water, almost with the instinctive readiness, and certainly with the noiseless movements, of an aquatic bird.

  Deerslayer had got nearly in a line between the camp and the ark, before he caught a glimpse of the fire. This came upon him suddenly, and a little unexpectedly, at first causing an alarm, lest he had incautiously ventured within the circle of light it cast. But, perceiving at a second glance, that he was certainly safe from detection, so long as the Indians kept near the centre of the illumination, he brought the canoe to a state of rest, in the most favourable position he could find, and commenced his observations.

  We have written much, but in vain, concerning this extraordinary being, if the reader requires now to be told, that, untutored as he was in the learning of the world, and simple as he ever showed himself to be in all matters touching the subtleties of conventional taste, he was a man of strong, native, poetical feeling. He loved the woods for their freshness, their sublime solitudes, their vastness, and the impress that they everywhere bore of the divine hand of their creator. He seldom moved through them, without pausing to dwell on some peculiar beauty that gave him pleasure, though seldom attempting to investigate the causes; and never did a day pass without his communing in spirit, and this, too, without the aid of forms or language, with the infinite source of all he saw, felt, and beheld. Thus constituted, in a moral sense, and of a steadiness that no danger could appal, or any crisis disturb, it is not surprising that the hunter felt a pleasure at looking on the scene he now beheld, that momentarily caused him to forget the object of his visit. This will more fully appear when we describe the scene.