The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXII

  "Men, boys, and girls Desert the unpeopled village; and wild crowds Spread o'er the plain, by the sweet phrensy driven." --Somerville.

  From this time to the close of April the weather continued to be asuccession of neat and rapid changes. One day the soft airs ofspring seemed to be stealing along the valley, and, in unison with aninvigorating sun, attempting covertly to rouse the dormant powers ofthe vegetable world, while, on the next, the surly blasts from the northwould sweep across the lake and erase every impression left by theirgentle adversaries. The snow, however, finally disappeared, and thegreen wheat fields were seen in every direction, spotted with the darkand charred stumps that had, the preceding season, supported some ofthe proudest trees of the forest. Ploughs were in motion, wherever thoseuseful implements could be used, and the smokes of the sugar-camps wereno longer seen issuing from the woods of maple. The lake had lost thebeauty of a field of ice, but still a dark and gloomy covering concealedits waters, for the absence of currents left them yet hidden under aporous crust, which, saturated with the fluid, barely retained enoughstrength to preserve the continuity of its parts. Large flocks of wildgeese were seen passing over the country, which hovered, for atime, around the hidden sheet of water, apparently searching for aresting-place; and then, on finding them selves excluded by the chillcovering, would soar away to the north, filling the air with discordantscreams, as if venting their complaints at the tardy operations ofNature.

  For a week, the dark covering of the Otsego was left to the undisturbedpossession of two eagles, who alighted on the centre of its field, andsat eyeing their undisputed territory. During the presence of thesemonarchs of the air, the flocks of migrating birds avoided crossingthe plain of ice by turning into the hills, apparently seeking theprotection of the forests, while the white and bald heads of the tenantsof the lake were turned upward, with a look of contempt. But the timehad come when even these kings of birds were to be dispossessed. Anopening had been gradually increasing at the lower extremity of thelake, and around the dark spot where the current of the river preventedthe formation of ice during even the coldest weather; and the freshsoutherly winds, that now breathed freely upon the valley, made animpression on the waters. Mimic waves began to curl over the margin ofthe frozen field, which exhibited an outline of crystallizations thatslowly receded toward the north. At each step the power of the windsand the waves increased, until, after a struggle of a few hours, theturbulent little billows succeeded in setting the whole field in motion,when it was driven beyond the reach of the eye, with a rapidity that wasas magical as the change produced in the scene by this expulsion of thelingering remnant of winter. Just as the last sheet of agitated ice wasdisappearing in the distance, the eagles rose, and soared with a widesweep above the clouds, while the waves tossed their little caps ofsnow in the air, as if rioting in their release from a thraldom of fiveminutes' duration.

  The following morning Elizabeth was awakened by the exhilarating soundsof the martens, who were quarrelling and chattering around the littleboxes suspended above her windows, and the cries of Richard, who wascalling in tones animating as signs of the season itself:

  "Awake! awake! my fair lady! the gulls are hovering over the lakealready, and the heavens are alive with pigeons. You may look an hourbefore you can find a hole through which to get a peep at the sun.Awake! awake! lazy ones' Benjamin is overhauling the ammunition, andwe only wait for our breakfasts, and away for the mountains andpigeon-shooting."

  There was no resisting this animated appeal, and in a few minutes MissTemple and her friend descended to the parlor. The doors of the hallwere thrown open, and the mild, balmy air of a clear spring morning wasventilating the apartment, where the vigilance of the ex-stewardhad been so long maintaining an artificial heat with such unremitteddiligence. The gentlemen were impatiently waiting for their morning'srepast, each equipped in the garb of a sportsman. Mr. Jones made manyvisits to the southern door, and would cry:

  "See, Cousin Bess! see, 'Duke, the pigeon-roosts of the south havebroken up! They are growing more thick every instant, Here is a flockthat the eye cannot see the end of. There is food enough in it to keepthe army of Xerxes for a month, and feathers enough to make beds for thewhole country. Xerxes, Mr. Edwards, was a Grecian king, who--no, he wasa Turk, or a Persian, who wanted to conquer Greece, just the same asthese rascals will overrun our wheat fields, when they come back in thefall. Away! away! Bess; I long to pepper them."

  In this wish both Marmaduke and young Edwards seemed equally toparticipate, for the sight was exhilarating to a sportsman; and theladies soon dismissed the party after a hasty breakfast.

  If the heavens were alive with pigeons, the whole village seemed equallyin motion with men, women, and children. Every species of firearm, fromthe French ducking gun, with a barrel near six feet in length, to thecommon horseman's pistol, was to be seen in the hands of the men andboys; while bows and arrows, some made of the simple stick of walnutsapling and others in a rude imitation of the ancient cross-bows, werecarried by many of the latter.

  The houses and the signs of life apparent in the village drovethe alarmed birds from the direct line of their flight, toward themountains, along the sides and near the bases of which they wereglancing in dense masses, equally wonderful by the rapidity of theirmotion and their incredible numbers.

  We have already said that, across the inclined plane which fell from thesteep ascent of the mountain to the banks of the Susquehanna, ran thehighway on either side of which a clearing of many acres had been madeat a very early day. Over those clearings, and up the eastern mountain,and along the dangerous path that was cut into its side, the differentindividuals posted themselves, and in a few moments the attackcommenced.

  Among the sportsmen was the tall, gaunt form of Leather-Stocking,walking over the field, with his rifle hanging on his arm, his dogs athis heels; the latter now scenting the dead or wounded birds that werebeginning to tumble from the flocks, and then crouching under thelegs of their master, as if they participated in his feelings at thiswasteful and unsportsmanlike execution.

  The reports of the firearms became rapid, whole volleys rising from theplain, as flocks of more than ordinary numbers darted over the opening,shadowing the field like a cloud; and then the light smoke of a singlepiece would issue from among the leafless bushes on the mountain, asdeath was hurled on the retreat of the affrighted birds, who were risingfrom a volley, in a vain effort to escape. Arrows and missiles of everykind were in the midst of the flocks; and so numerous were the birds,and so low did they take their flight, that even long poles in the handsof those on the sides of the mountain were used to strike them to theearth.

  During all this time Mr. Jones, who disdained the humble and ordinarymeans of destruction used by his companions, was busily occupied,aided by Benjamin, in making arrangements for an assault of morethan ordinarily fatal character. Among the relics of the old militaryexcursions, that occasionally are discovered throughout the differentdistricts of the western part of New York, there had been found inTempleton, at its settlement, a small swivel, which would carry a ballof a pound weight. It was thought to have been deserted by a war-partyof the whites in one of their inroads into the Indian settlements, when,perhaps, convenience or their necessity induced them to leave such anincumberance behind them in the woods. This miniature cannon had beenreleased from the rust, and being mounted on little wheels was now ina state for actual service. For several years it was the sole organ forextraordinary rejoicings used in those mountains. On the mornings ofthe Fourth of July it would be heard ringing among the hills; and evenCaptain Hollister, who was the highest authority in that part ofthe country on all such occasions, affirmed that, considering itsdimensions, it was no despicable gun for a salute. It was somewhat theworse for the service it had performed, it is true, there being but atrifling difference in size between the touch-hole and the muzzle Still,the grand conceptions of Richard had suggested the importance of suchan instrum
ent in hurling death at his nimble enemies. The swivel wasdragged by a horse into a part of the open space that the sheriffthought most eligible for planning a battery of the kind, and Mr. Pumpproceeded to load it. Several handfuls of duck-shot were placed on topof the powder, and the major-domo announced that his piece was ready forservice.

  The sight of such an implement collected all the idle spectators to thespot, who, being mostly boys, filled the air with cries of exultationand delight The gun was pointed high, and Richard, holding a coal offire in a pair of tongs, patiently took his seat on a stump, awaitingthe appearance of a flock worthy of his notice.

  So prodigious was the number of the birds that the scattering fire ofthe guns, with the hurling of missiles and the cries of the boys, had noother effect than to break off small flocks from the immense masses thatcontinued to dart along the valley, as if the whole of the featheredtribe were pouring through that one pass. None pretended to collect thegame, which lay scattered over the fields in such profusion as to coverthe very ground with fluttering victims.

  Leather-Stocking was a silent but uneasy spectator of all theseproceedings, but was able to keep his sentiments to himself until he sawthe introduction of the swivel into the sports.

  "This comes of settling a country!" he said. "Here have I known thepigeon to fly for forty long years, and, till you made your clearings,there was nobody to skeart or to hurt them, I loved to see them comeinto the woods, for they were company to a body, hurting nothing--being,as it was, as harmless as a garter-snake. But now it gives me sorethoughts when I hear the frighty things whizzing through the air, for Iknow it's only a motion to bring out all the brats of the village. Well,the Lord won't see the waste of his creatures for nothing, and rightwill be done to the pigeons, as well as others, by and by. There's Mr.Oliver as bad as the rest of them, firing into the flocks as if he wasshooting down nothing but Mingo warriors." Among the sportsmen was BillyKirby, who, armed with an old musket, was loading, and, without evenlooking into the air, was firing and shouting as his victims fell evenon his own person. He heard the speech of Natty, and took upon himselfto reply:

  "What! old Leather-Stocking," he cried, "grumbling at the loss of a fewpigeons! If you had to sow your wheat twice, and three times, as I havedone, you wouldn't be so massyfully feeling toward the divils. Hurrah,boys! scatter the feathers! This is better than shooting at a turkey'shead and neck, old fellow."

  "It's better for you, maybe, Billy Kirby," replied the indignantold hunter, "and all them that don't know how to put a ball down arifle-barrel, or how to bring it up again with a true aim; but it'swicked to be shooting into flocks in this wasty manner, and none to doit who know how to knock over a single bird. If a body has a cravingfor pigeon's flesh, why, it's made the same as all other creatures, forman's eating; but not to kill twenty and eat one. When I want such athing I go into the woods till I find one to my liking, and then I shoothim off the branches, without touching the feather of another, thoughthere might be a hundred on the same tree. You couldn't do such a thing,Billy Kirby--you couldn't do it if you tried."

  "What's that, old corn-stalk! you sapless stub!" cried the wood-chopper."You have grown wordy, since the affair of the turkey; but if you arefor a single shot, here goes at that bird which comes on by himself."

  The fire from the distant part of the field had driven a single pigeonbelow the flock to which it belonged, and, frightened with the constantreports of the muskets, it was approaching the spot where the disputantsstood, darting first from One side and then to the other, cutting theair with the swiftness of lightning, and making a noise with its wingsnot unlike the rushing of a bullet. Unfortunately for the wood-chopper,notwithstanding his vaunt, he did not see this bird until it was toolate to fire as it approached, and he pulled the trigger at the unluckymoment when it was darting immediately over his head. The bird continuedits course with the usual velocity.

  Natty lowered his rifle from his arm when the challenge was made, andwaiting a moment, until the terrified victim had got in a line with hiseye, and had dropped near the bank of the lake, he raised it again withuncommon rapidity, and fired. It might have been chance, or it mighthave been skill, that produced the result; it was probably a union ofboth; but the pigeon whirled over in the air, and fell into the lakewith a broken wing At the sound of his rifle, both his dogs started fromhis feet, and in a few minutes the "slut" brought out the bird, stillalive.

  The wonderful exploit of Leather-Stocking was noised through the fieldwith great rapidity, and the sportsmen gathered in, to learn the truthof the report.

  "What" said young Edwards, "have you really killed a pigeon on the wing,Natty, with a single ball?"

  "Haven't I killed loons before now, lad, that dive at the flash?"returned the hunter. "It's much better to kill only such as you want,without wasting your powder and lead, than to be firing into God'screatures in this wicked manner. But I came out for a bird, and you knowthe reason why I like small game, Mr. Oliver, and now I have got oneTwill go home, for I don't relish to see these wasty ways that you areall practysing, as if the least thing wasn't made for use, and not todestroy."

  "Thou sayest well, Leather-Stocking," cried Marmaduke, "and I begin tothink it time to put an end to this work of destruction."

  "Put an ind, Judge, to your clearings. Ain't the woods His work as wellas the pigeons? Use, but don't waste. Wasn't the woods made for thebeasts and birds to harbor in? and when man wanted their flesh, theirskins, or their feathers, there's the place to seek them. But I'll goto the hut with my own game, for I wouldn't touch one of the harmlessthings that cover the ground here, looking up with their eyes on me, asif they only wanted tongues to say their thoughts." With this sentimentin his month, Leather-Stocking threw his rifle over his arm, and,followed by his dogs, stepped across the clearing with great caution,taking care not to tread on one of the wounded birds in his path. Hesoon entered the bushes on the margin of the lake and was hid from view.

  Whatever impression the morality of Natty made on the Judge, it wasutterly lost on Richard. He availed himself of the gathering of thesportsmen, to lay a plan for one "fell swoop" of destruction. Themusket-men were drawn up in battle array, in a line extending on eachside of his artillery, with orders to await the signal of firing fromhimself.

  "Stand by, my lads," said Benjamin, who acted as an aid de-camp on thisoccasion, "stand by, my hearties, and when Squire Dickens heaves out thesignal to begin firing, d'ye see, you may open upon them in a broadside.Take care and fire low, boys, and you'll be sure to hull the flock."

  "Fire low!" shouted Kirby; "hear the old fool! If we fire low, we mayhit the stumps, but not ruffle a pigeon."

  "How should you know, you lubber?" cried Benjamin, with a veryunbecoming heat for an officer on the eve of battle--"how should youknow, you grampus? Haven't I sailed aboard of the Boadishy for fiveyears? and wasn't it a standing order to fire low, and to hull yourenemy! Keep silence at your guns, boys and mind the order that ispassed."

  The loud laughs of the musket-men were silenced by the moreauthoritative voice of Richard, who called for attention and obedienceto his signals.

  Some millions of pigeons were supposed to have already passed, thatmorning, over the valley of Templeton; but nothing like the flock thatwas now approaching had been seen before. It extended from mountain tomountain in one solid blue mass, and the eye looked in vain, over thesouthern hills, to find its termination. The front of this living columnwas distinctly marked by a line but very slightly indented, soregular and even was the flight. Even Marmaduke forgot the morality ofLeather-Stocking as it approached, and, in common with the rest, broughthis musket to a poise.

  "Fire!" cried the sheriff, clapping a coal to the priming of the cannon.As half of Benjamin's charge escaped through the touch-hole, the wholevolley of the musketry preceded the report of the swivel. On receivingthis united discharge of small-arms, the front of the flock dartedupward, while, at the same instant, myriads of those in the rear rushedwith amazing rapidity into the
ir places, so that, when the column ofwhite smoke gushed from the mouth of the little cannon, an accumulatedmass of objects was gliding over its point of direction. The roar of thegun echoed along the mountains, and died away to the north, like distantthunder, while the whole flock of alarmed birds seemed, for a moment,thrown into one disorderly and agitated mass. The air was filled withtheir irregular flight, layer rising above layer, far above the topsof the highest pines, none daring to advance beyond the dangerous pass;when, suddenly, some of the headers of the feathered tribes shot acrossthe valley, taking their flight directly over the village, and hundredsof thousands in their rear followed the example, deserting the easternside of the plain to their persecutors and the slain.

  "Victory!" shouted Richard, "victory! we have driven the enemy from thefield."

  "Not so, Dickon," said Marmaduke; "the field is covered with them; and,like the Leather-Stocking, I see nothing but eyes, in every direction,as the innocent sufferers turn their heads in terror. Full one-half ofthose that have fallen are yet alive; and I think it is time to end thesport, if sport it be."

  "Sport!" cried the sheriff; "it is princely sport! There are somethousands of the blue-coated boys on the ground, so that every old womanin the village may have a pot-pie for the asking."

  "Well, we have happily frightened the birds from this side of thevalley," said Marmaduke, "and the carnage must of necessity end for thepresent. Boys, I will give you sixpence a hundred for the pigeons' headsonly; so go to work, and bring them into the village."

  This expedient produced the desired effect, for every urchin on theground went industriously to work to wring the necks of the woundedbirds. Judge Temple retired toward his dwelling with that kind offeeling that many a man has experienced before him, who discovers, afterthe excitement of the moment has passed, that he has purchased pleasureat the price of misery to others. Horses were loaded with the dead; and,after this first burst of sporting, the shooting of pigeons became abusiness, with a few idlers, for the remainder of the season, Richard,however, boasted for many a year of his shot with the "cricket;" andBenjamin gravely asserted that he thought they had killed nearly as manypigeons on that day as there were Frenchmen destroyed on the memorableoccasion of Rodney's victory.