The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  "Ask me not what the maiden feels, Left in that dreadful hour alone: Perchance, her reason stoops, or reel! Perchance, a courage not her own Braces her mind to desperate tone." --Scott.

  While the chase was occurring on the lake, Miss Temple and her companionpursued their walk on the mountain. Male attendants on such excursionswere thought to be altogether unnecessary, for none were even known tooffer insult to a female who respected herself. After the embarrassmentcreated by the parting discourse with Edwards had dissipated, thegirls maintained a conversation that was as innocent and cheerful asthemselves.

  The path they took led them but a short distance above the hut ofLeather-Stocking, and there was a point in the road which commanded abird's-eye view of the sequestered spot.

  From a feeling that might have been, natural, and must have beenpowerful, neither of the friends, in their frequent and confidentialdialogues, had ever trusted herself to utter one syllable concerningthe equivocal situation in which the young man who was now so intimatelyassociated with them had been found. If judge Temple had deemed itprudent to make any inquiries on the subject, he had also thought itproper to keep the answers to him self; though it was so common anoccurrence to find the well-educated youth of the Eastern States inevery stage of their career to wealth, that the simple circumstance ofhis intelligence, connected with his poverty, would not, at that dayand in that country, have excited any very powerful curiosity. With hisbreeding, it might have been different; but the youth himself had soeffectually guarded against surprise on this subject, by his cold andeven, in some cases, rude deportment, that when his manners seemed tosoften by time, the Judge, if he thought about it at all, would havebeen most likely to imagine that the improvement was the result of hislate association. But women are always more alive to such subjectsthan men; and what the abstraction of the father had overlooked, theobservation of the daughter had easily detected. In the thousand littlecourtesies of polished life she had early discovered that Edwards wasnot wanting, though his gentleness was so often crossed by marks of whatshe conceived to be fierce and uncontrollable passions. It may, perhaps,be unnecessary to tell the reader that Louisa Grant never reasoned somuch after the fashions of the world. The gentle girl, however, hadher own thoughts on the subject, and, like others, she drew her ownconclusions.

  "I would give all my other secrets, Louisa," exclaimed Miss Temple,laughing, and shaking back her dark locks, with a look of childishsimplicity that her intelligent face seldom expressed, "to be mistressof all that those rude logs have heard and witnessed."

  They were both looking at the secluded hut at the instant, and MissGrant raised her mild eyes as she answered:

  "I am sure they would tell nothing to the disadvantage of Mr. Edwards."

  "Perhaps not; but they might, at least, tell who he is."

  "Why, dear Miss Temple, we know all that already. I have heard it allvery rationally explained by your cousin--"

  "The executive chief! he can explain anything. His ingenuity will oneday discover the philosopher's stone. But what did he say?"

  "Say!" echoed Louisa, with a look of surprise; "why, everything thatseemed to me to be satisfactory, and I now believed it to be true. Hesaid that Natty Bumppo had lived most of his life in the woods and amongthe Indians, by which means he had formed an acquaintance with old John,the Delaware chief."

  "Indeed! that was quite a matter-of-fact tale for Cousin Dickon. Whatcame next?"

  "I believe he accounted for their close intimacy by some story about theLeather-Stocking saving the life of John in a battle."

  "Nothing more likely," said Elizabeth, a little impatiently; "but whatis all this to the purpose?"

  "Nay, Elizabeth, you must bear with my ignorance, and I will repeat allthat I remember to have overheard for the dialogue was between my fatherand the sheriff, so lately as the last time they met, He then addedthat the kings of England used to keep gentlemen as agents among thedifferent tribes of Indians, and sometimes officers in the army, whofrequently passed half their lives on the edge of the wilderness."

  "Told with wonderful historical accuracy! And did he end there?"

  "Oh! no--then he said that these agents seldom married; and--and--theymust have been wicked men, Elizabeth! but I assure you he said so."

  "Never mind," said Miss Temple, blushing and smiling, though so slightlythat both were unheeded by her companion; "skip all that."

  "Well, then, he said that they often took great pride in the educationof their children, whom they frequently sent to England, and even to thecolleges; and this is the way that he accounts for the liberal mannerin which Mr. Edwards has been taught; for he acknowledges that he knowsalmost as much as your father--or mine--or even himself."

  "Quite a climax in learning'. And so he made Mohegan the granduncle orgrandfather of Oliver Edwards."

  "You have heard him yourself, then?" said Louisa.

  "Often; but not on this subject. Mr. Richard Jones, you know, dear, hasa theory for everything; but has he one which will explain the reasonwhy that hut is the only habitation within fifty miles of us whose dooris not open to every person who may choose to lift its latch?"

  "I have never heard him say anything on this subject," returned theclergyman's daughter; "but I suppose that, as they are poor, they verynaturally are anxious to keep the little that they honestly own. It issometimes dangerous to be rich, Miss Temple; but you cannot know howhard it is to be very, very poor."

  "Nor you, I trust, Louisa; at least I should hope that, in this landof abundance, no minister of the church could be left in absolutesuffering."

  "There cannot be actual misery," returned the other, in a low and humbletone, "where there is a dependence on our Maker; but there may be suchsuffering as will cause the heart to ache."

  "But not you--not you," said the impetuous Elizabeth--"not you, deargirl, you have never known the misery that is connected with poverty."

  "Ah! Miss Temple, you little understand the troubles of this life,I believe. My father has spent many years as a missionary in the newcountries, where his people were poor, and frequently we have beenwithout bread; unable to buy, and ashamed to beg, because we would notdisgrace his sacred calling. But how often have I seen him leave hishome, where the sick and the hungry felt, when he left them, that theyhad lost their only earthly friend, to ride on a duty which could notbe neglected for domes tic evils! Oh! how hard it must be to preachconsolation to others when your own heart is bursting with anguish!"

  "But it is all over now! your father's income must now be equal to hiswants--it must be--it shall be--"

  "It is," replied Louisa, dropping her head on her bosom to conceal thetears which flowed in spite of her gentle Christianity--"for there arenone left to be supplied but me."

  The turn the conversation had taken drove from the minds of the youngmaidens all other thoughts but those of holy charity; and Elizabethfolded her friend in her arms, when the latter gave vent to hermomentary grief in audible sobs. When this burst of emotion hadsubsided, Louisa raised her mild countenance, and they continued theirwalk in silence.

  By this time they had gained the summit of the mountain, where they leftthe highway, and pursued their course under the shade of the statelytrees that crowned the eminence. The day was becoming warm, andthe girls plunged more deeply into the forest, as they found itsinvigorating coolness agreeably contrasted to the excessive heatthey had experienced in the ascent. The conversation, as if by mutualconsent, was entirely changed to the little incidents and scenes oftheir walk, and every tall pine, and every shrub or flower, called forthsome simple expression of admiration.

  In this manner they proceeded along the margin of the precipice,catching occasional glimpses of the placid Otsego, or pausing to listento the rattling of wheels and the sounds of hammers that rose fromthe valley, to mingle the signs of men with the scenes of nature, whenElizabeth suddenly started, and exclaimed:

  "Listen! there are the c
ries of a child on this mountain! Is there aclearing near us, or can some little one have strayed from its parents?"

  "Such things frequently happen," returned Louisa. "Let us follow thesounds; it may be a wanderer starving on the hill."

  Urged by this consideration, the females pursued the low, mournfulsounds, that proceeded from the forest, with quick and impatient steps.More than once, the ardent Elizabeth was on the point of announcing thatshe saw the sufferer, when Louisa caught her by the arm, and pointingbehind them, cried:

  "Look at the dog!"

  Brave had been their companion, from the time the voice of his youngmistress lured him from his kennel, to the present moment. Hisadvanced age had long before deprived him of his activity; and when hiscompanions stopped to view the scenery, or to add to their bouquets,the mastiff would lay his huge frame on the ground and await theirmovements, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in his air that illaccorded with the character of a protector. But when, aroused by thiscry from Louisa, Miss Temple turned, she saw the dog with his eyeskeenly set on some distant object, his head bent near the ground, andhis hair actually rising on his body, through fright or anger. Itwas most probably the latter, for he was growling in a low key, andoccasionally showing his teeth, in a manner that would have terrifiedhis mistress, had she not so well known his good qualities.

  "Brave!" she said, "be quiet, Brave! What do you see, fellow?"

  At the sounds of her voice, the rage of the mastiff, instead of being atall diminished, was very sensibly increased. He stalked in front of theladies, and seated himself at the feet of his mistress, growling louderthan before, and occasionally giving vent to his ire by a short, surlybarking.

  "What does he see?" said Elizabeth; "there must be some animal insight."

  Hearing no answer from her companion, Miss Temple turned her head andbeheld Louisa, standing with her face whitened to the color of death,and her finger pointing upward with a sort of flickering, convulsedmotion. The quick eye of Elizabeth glanced in the direction indicated byher friend, where she saw the fierce front and glaring eyes of a femalepanther, fixed on them in horrid malignity, and threatening to leap.

  "Let us fly," exclaimed Elizabeth, grasping the arm of Louisa, whoseform yielded like melting snow.

  There was not a single feeling in the temperament of Elizabeth Templethat could prompt her to desert a companion in such an extremity. Shefell on her knees by the side of the inanimate Louisa, tearing fromthe person of her friend, with instinctive readiness, such parts ofher dress as might obstruct her respiration, and encouraging their onlysafeguard, the dog, at the same time, by the sounds of her voice.

  "Courage, Brave!" she cried, her own tones beginning to tremble,"courage, courage, good Brave!"

  A quarter-grown cub, that had hitherto been unseen, now appeared,dropping from the branches of a sapling that grew under the shade of thebeech which held its dam. This ignorant but vicious creature approachedthe dog, imitating the actions and sounds of its parent, but exhibitinga strange mixture of the playfulness of a kitten with the ferocity ofits race. Standing on its hind-legs, it would rend the bark of a treewith its fore-paws, and play the antics of a cat; and then, by lashingitself with its tail, growling, and scratching the earth, it would attempt the manifestations of anger that rendered its parent so terrific.

  All this time Brave stood firm and undaunted, his short tail erect,his body drawn backward on its haunches, and his eyes following themovements of both dam and cub. At every gambol played by the latter, itapproached nigher to the dog, the growling of the three becomingmore horrid at each moment, until the younger beast, over-leaping itsintended bound, fell directly before the mastiff. There was a moment offearful cries and struggles, but they ended almost as soon as commenced,by the cub appearing in the air, hurled from the jaws of Brave, witha violence that sent it against a tree so forcibly as to render itcompletely senseless. Elizabeth witnessed the short struggle, and herblood was warming with the triumph of the dog, when she saw the form ofthe old panther in the air, springing twenty feet from the branch of thebeech to the back of the mastiff. No words of ours can describe the furyof the conflict that followed. It was a confused struggle on the dryleaves, accompanied by loud and terrific cries. Miss Temple continuedon her knees, bending over the form of Louisa, her eyes fixed on theanimals with an interest so horrid, and yet so intense, that she almostforgot her own stake in the result. So rapid and vigorous were thebounds of the inhabitant of the forest, that its active frame seemedconstantly in the air, while the dog nobly faced his foe at eachsuccessive leap. When the panther lighted on the shoulders of themastiff, which was its constant aim, old Brave, though torn with hertalons, and stained with his own blood, that already flowed from a dozenwounds, would shake off his furious foe like a feather, and, rearingon his hind-legs, rush to the fray again, with jaws distended, and adauntless eye. But age, and his pampered life, greatly disqualified thenoble mastiff for such a struggle. In everything but courage, he wasonly the vestige of what he had once been. A higher bound than everraised the wary and furious beast far beyond the reach of the dog,who was making a desperate but fruitless dash at her, from which shealighted in a favorable position, on the back of her aged foe. For asingle moment only could the panther remain there, the great strength ofthe dog returning with a convulsive effort. But Elizabeth saw, as Bravefastened his teeth in the side of his enemy, that the collar of brassaround his neck, which had been glittering throughout the fray, wasof the color of blood, and directly that his frame was sinking to theearth, where it soon lay prostrate and helpless. Several mighty effortsof the wild-cat to extricate herself from the jaws of the dog followed,but they were fruitless, until the mastiff turned on his back, hislips collapsed, and his teeth loosened, when the short convulsions andstillness that succeeded announced the death of poor Brave.

  Elizabeth now lay wholly at the mercy of the beast. There is said to besomething in the front of the image of the Maker that daunts the heartsof the inferior beings of his creation; and it would seem that some suchpower, in the present instance, suspended the threatened blow. The eyesof the monster and the kneeling maiden met for an instant, when theformer stooped to examine her fallen foe; next, to scent her lucklesscub. From the latter examination it turned, however, with its eyesapparently emitting flashes of fire, its tail lashing its sidesfuriously, and its claws projecting inches from her broad feet.

  Miss Temple did not or could not move. Her hands were clasped in theattitude of prayer, but her eyes were still drawn to her terribleenemy--her cheeks were blanched to the whiteness of marble, and her lipswere slightly separated with horror.

  The moment seemed now to have arrived for the fatal termination, and thebeautiful figure of Elizabeth was bowing meekly to the stroke, when arustling of leaves behind seemed rather to mock the organs than to meether ears.

  "Hist! hist!" said a low voice, "stoop lower, gal; your bonnet hides thecreatur's head."

  It was rather the yielding of nature than a compliance with thisunexpected order, that caused the head of our heroine to sink on herbosom; when she heard the report of the rifle, the whizzing of thebullet, and the enraged cries of the beast, who was rolling over on theearth, biting its own flesh, and tearing the twigs and branches withinits reach. At the next instant the form of the Leather-Stocking rushedby her, and he called aloud:

  "Come in, Hector! come in, old fool; 'tis a hard-lived animal, and mayjump agin."

  Natty fearlessly maintained his position in front of the females,notwithstanding the violent bounds and threatening aspect of the woundedpanther, which gave several indications of returning strength andferocity, until his rifle was again loaded, when he stepped up to theenraged animal, and, placing the muzzle close to its head, every sparkof life was extinguished by the discharge.

  The death of her terrible enemy appeared to Elizabeth like aresurrection from her own grave. There was an elasticity in the mind ofour heroine that rose to meet the pressure of instant danger, and themore direct it had
been, the more her nature had struggled to overcomethem. But still she was a woman. Had she been left to herself in herlate extremity, she would probably have used her faculties to theutmost, and with discretion, in protecting her person; but, encumberedwith her inanimate friend, retreat was a thing not to be attempted.Notwithstanding the fearful aspect of her foe, the eye of Elizabeth hadnever shrunk from its gaze, and long after the event her thoughts wouldrecur to her passing sensations, and the sweetness of her midnight sleepwould be disturbed, as her active fancy conjured, in dreams, the mosttrifling movements of savage fury that the beast had exhibited in itsmoment of power.

  We shall leave the reader to imagine the restoration of Louisa's senses,and the expressions of gratitude which fell from the young women. Theformer was effected by a little water, that was brought from one of thethousand springs of those mountains, in the cap of the Leather-Stocking;and the latter were uttered with the warmth that might be expected fromthe character of Elizabeth. Natty received her vehement protestations ofgratitude with a simple expression of good-will, and with indulgence forher present excitement, but with a carelessness that showed how littlehe thought of the service he had rendered.

  "Well, well," he said, "be it so, gal; let it be so, if you wishit--we'll talk the thing over another time. Come, come--let us get intothe road, for you've had terror enough to make you wish yourself in yourfather's house agin."

  This was uttered as they were proceeding, at a pace that was adapted tothe weakness of Louisa, toward the highway; on reaching which the ladiesseparated from their guide, declaring themselves equal to the remainderof the walk without his assistance, and feeling encouraged by the sightof the village which lay beneath their feet like a picture, with itslimpid lake in front, the winding stream along its margin, and itshundred chimneys of whitened bricks.

  The reader need not be told the nature of the emotions which twoyouthful, ingenuous, and well-educated girls would experience at theirescape from a death so horrid as the one which had impended over them,while they pursued their way in silence along the track on the side ofthe mountain; nor how deep were their mental thanks to that Power whichhad given them their existence, and which had not deserted them intheir extremity; neither how often they pressed each other's arms asthe assurance of their present safety came, like a healing balm, athwarttheir troubled spirits, when their thoughts were recurring to the recentmoments of horror.

  Leather-Stocking remained on the hill, gazing after their retiringfigures, until they were hidden by a bend in the road, when he whistledin his dogs, and shouldering his rifle, he returned into the forest.

  "Well, it was a skeary thing to the young creatur's," said Natty, whilehe retrod the path toward the plain. "It might frighten an older woman,to see a she-painter so near her, with a dead cub by its side. I wonderif I had aimed at the varmint's eye, if I shouldn't have touched thelife sooner than in the forehead; but they are hard-lived animals, andit was a good shot, consid'ring that I could see nothing but the headand the peak of its tail. Hah! who goes there?"

  "How goes it, Natty?" said Mr. Doolittle, stepping out of the bushes,with a motion that was a good deal accelerated by the sight of therifle, that was already lowered in his direction. "What! shooting thiswarm day! Mind, old man, the law don't get hold on you."

  "The law, squire! I have shook hands with the law these forty year,"returned Natty; "for what has a man who lives in the wilderness to dowith the ways of the law?"

  "Not much, maybe," said Hiram; "but you sometimes trade in venison. Is'pose you know, Leather-Stocking, that there is an act passed to laya fine of five pounds currency, or twelve dollars and fifty cents, bydecimals, on every man who kills a deer betwixt January and August. TheJudge had a great hand in getting the law through."

  "I can believe it," returned the old hunter; "I can believe that oranything of a man who carries on as he does in the country."

  "Yes, the law is quite positive, and the Judge is bent on putting itin force--five pounds penalty. I thought I heard your hounds out on thescent of so'thing this morning; I didn't know but they might get you indifficulty."

  "They know their manners too well," said Natty carelessly. "And how muchgoes to the State's evidence, squire?"

  "How much?" repeated Hiram, quailing under the honest but sharp lookof the hunter; "the informer gets half, I--I believe--yes, I guess it'shalf. But there's blood on your sleeve, man--you haven't been shootinganything this morning?"

  "I have, though," said the hunter, nodding his head significantly to theother, "and a good shot I made of it."

  "H-e-m!" ejaculated the magistrate; "and where is the game? I s'pose it'sof a good natur', for your dogs won't hunt anything that isn't choice."

  "They'll hunt anything I tell them to, squire," cried Natty, favoringthe other with his laugh. "They'll hunt you, if I say so. He-e-e-re,he-e-e-re, Hector--he-e-e-re, slut--come this a-way, pups--come thisa-way---come hither."

  "Oh! I have always heard a good character of the dogs," returned Mr.Doolittle, quickening his pace by raising each leg in rapid succession,as the hounds scented around his person. "And where is the game,Leather-Stocking?"

  During this dialogue, the speakers had been walking at a very fast gait,and Natty swung the end of his rifle round, pointing through the bushes,and replied: "There lies one. How do you like such meat?"

  "This!" exclaimed Hiram; "why, this is Judge Temple's dog Brave. Takecare, Leather-Stocking, and don't make an enemy of the Judge. I hope youhaven't harmed the animal?"

  "Look for yourself, Mr. Doolittle," said Natty, drawing his knife fromhis girdle, and wiping it in a knowing manner, once or twice across hisgarment of buckskin; "does his throat look as if I had cut it with thisknife?"

  "It is dreadfully torn! it's an awful wound--no knife ever did thisdeed. Who could have done it?"

  "The painters behind you, squire."

  "Painters!" echoed Hiram, whirling on his heel with an agility thatwould have done credit to a dancing' master.

  "Be easy, man," said Natty; "there's two of the venomous things; but thedog finished one, and I have fastened the other's jaws for her; so don'tbe frightened, squire; they won't hurt you."

  "And where's the deer?" cried Hiram, staring about him with a bewilderedair.

  "Anan? deer!" repeated Natty. "Sartain; an't there venison here, ordidn't you kill a buck?"

  "What! when the law forbids the thing, squire!" said the old hunter, "Ihope there's no law agin' killing the painters."

  "No! there's a bounty on the scalps--but--will your dogs hunt painters,Natty?"

  "Anything; didn't I tell you they would hunt a man? He-e-re, he-e-re,pups--"

  "Yes, yes, I remember. Well, they are strange dogs, I must say--I amquite in a wonderment."

  Natty had seated himself on the ground, and having laid the grim headof his late ferocious enemy in his lap, was drawing his knife with apracticed hand around the ears, which he tore from the head of the beastin such a manner as to preserve their connection, when he answered;

  "What at, squire? did you never see a painter's scalp afore? Come, youare a magistrate, I wish you'd make me out an order for the bounty."

  "The bounty!" repeated Hiram, holding the ears on the end of his fingerfor a moment, as if uncertain how to proceed. "Well, let us go down toyour hut, where you can take the oath, and I will write out the order, Isup pose you have a Bible? All the law wants is the four evangelists andthe Lord's prayer."

  "I keep no books," said Natty, a little coldly; "not such a Bible as thelaw needs."

  "Oh! there's but one sort of Bible that's good in law," returnedthe magistrate, "and your'n will do as well as another's. Come, thecarcasses are worth nothing, man; let us go down and take the oath."

  "Softly, softly, squire," said the hunter, lifting his trophies verydeliberately from the ground, and shouldering his rifle; "why do youwant an oath at all, for a thing that your own eyes has seen? Won't youbelieve yourself, that another man must swear to a fact that you knowto be true? Y
ou have seen me scalp the creatur's, and if I must swear toit, it shall be before Judge Temple, who needs an oath."

  "But we have no pen or paper here, Leather-Stocking; we must go to thehut for them, or how can I write the order?"

  Natty turned his simple features on the cunning magistrate with anotherof his laughs, as he said:

  "And what should I be doing with scholars' tools? I want no pens orpaper, not knowing the use of either; and I keep none. No, no, I'llbring the scalps into the village, squire, and you can make out theorder on one of your law-books, and it will be all the better for it.The deuce take this leather on the neck of the dog, it will strangle theold fool. Can you lend me a knife, squire?"

  Hiram, who seemed particularly anxious to be on good terms with hiscompanion, unhesitatingly complied. Natty cut the thong from the neckof the hound, and, as he returned the knife to its owner, carelesslyremarked:

  "'Tis a good bit of steel, and has cut such leather as this very same,before now, I dare say."

  "Do you mean to charge me with letting your hounds loose?" exclaimedHiram, with a consciousness that disarmed his caution.

  "Loose!" repeated the hunter--"I let them loose myself. I always letthem loose before I leave the hut."

  The ungovernable amazement with which Mr. Doolittle listened to thisfalsehood would have betrayed his agency in the liberation of thedogs, had Natty wanted any further confirmation; and the coolness andmanagement of the old man now disappeared in open indignation.

  "Look you here, Mr. Doolittle," he said, striking the breech of hisrifle violently on the ground; "what there is in the wigwam of a poorman like me, that one like you can crave, I don't know; but this I tellyou to your face, that you never shall put foot under the roof of mycabin with my consent, and that, if you harbor round the spot as youhave done lately, you may meet with treatment that you will littlerelish."

  "And let me tell you, Mr. Bumppo," said Hiram, retreating, however,with a quick step, "that I know you've broke the law, and that I'm amagistrate, and will make you feel it too, before you are a day older."

  "That for you and your law, too," cried Natty, snap ping his fingers atthe justice of the peace; "away with you, you varmint, before the deviltempts me to give you your desarts. Take care, if I ever catch yourprowling face in the woods agin, that I don't shoot it for an owl."

  There is something at all times commanding in honest indignation,and Hiram did not stay to provoke the wrath of the old hunter toextremities. When the intruder was out of sight, Natty proceeded to thehut, where he found all quiet as the grave. He fastened his dogs, andtapping at the door, which was opened by Edwards, asked;

  "Is all safe, lad?"

  "Everything," returned the youth. "Some one attempted the lock, but itwas too strong for him."

  "I know the creatur'," said Natty, "but he'll not trust himself withinthe reach of my rifle very soon----" What more was uttered by theLeather-Stocking, in his vexation, was rendered inaudible by the closingof the door of the cabin.