<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"></SPAN></p>
<h2> Chapter XV. </h2>
<p>"As long as Edwarde rules thys lande,<br/>
Ne quiet you wylle ye know;<br/>
Your sonnes and husbandes shall be slayne,<br/>
And brookes with bloode shall 'flowe.'<br/>
<br/>
"You leave youre geode and lawfulle kynge,<br/>
Whenne ynne adversity;<br/>
Like me, untoe the true cause stycke,<br/>
And for the true cause dye."<br/>
<br/>
Chatterton.<br/></p>
<p>The calm of evening was again in singular contrast, while its gathering
gloom was in as singular unison with the passions of men. The sun was set,
and the rays of the retiring luminary had ceased to gild the edges of the
few clouds that had sufficient openings to admit the passage of its fading
light. The canopy overhead was heavy and dense, promising another night of
darkness, but the surface of the lake was scarcely disturbed by a ripple.
There was a little air, though it scarce deserved to be termed wind.
Still, being damp and heavy, it had a certain force. The party in the
castle were as gloomy and silent as the scene. The two ransomed prisoners
felt humbled and discoloured, but their humility partook of the rancour of
revenge. They were far more disposed to remember the indignity with which
they had been treated during the last few hours of their captivity, than
to feel grateful for the previous indulgence. Then that keen-sighted
monitor, conscience, by reminding them of the retributive justice of all
they had endured, goaded them rather to turn the tables on their enemies
than to accuse themselves. As for the others, they were thoughtful equally
from regret and joy. Deerslayer and Judith felt most of the former
sensation, though from very different causes, while Hetty for the moment
was perfectly happy. The Delaware had also lively pictures of felicity in
the prospect of so soon regaining his betrothed. Under such circumstances,
and in this mood, all were taking the evening meal.</p>
<p>"Old Tom!" cried Hurry, bursting into a fit of boisterous laughter, "you
look'd amazin'ly like a tethered bear, as you was stretched on them
hemlock boughs, and I only wonder you didn't growl more. Well, it's over,
and syth's and lamentations won't mend the matter! There's the blackguard
Rivenoak, he that brought us off has an oncommon scalp, and I'd give as
much for it myself as the Colony. Yes, I feel as rich as the governor in
these matters now, and will lay down with them doubloon for doubloon.
Judith, darling, did you mourn for me much, when I was in the hands of the
Philipsteins?"</p>
<p>The last were a family of German descent on the Mohawk, to whom Hurry had
a great antipathy, and whom he had confounded with the enemies of Judea.</p>
<p>"Our tears have raised the lake, Hurry March, as you might have seen by
the shore!" returned Judith, with a feigned levity that she was far from
feeling. "That Hetty and I should have grieved for father was to be
expected; but we fairly rained tears for you."</p>
<p>"We were sorry for poor Hurry, as well as for father, Judith!" put in her
innocent and unconscious sister.</p>
<p>"True, girl, true; but we feel sorrow for everybody that's in trouble, you
know," returned the other in a quick, admonitory manner and a low tone.
"Nevertheless, we are glad to see you, Master March, and out of the hands
of the Philipsteins, too."</p>
<p>"Yes, they're a bad set, and so is the other brood of 'em, down on the
river. It's a wonderment to me how you got us off, Deerslayer; and I
forgive you the interference that prevented my doin' justice on that
vagabond, for this small service. Let us into the secret, that we may do
you the same good turn, at need. Was it by lying, or by coaxing?"</p>
<p>"By neither, Hurry, but by buying. We paid a ransom for you both, and
that, too, at a price so high you had well be on your guard ag'in another
captyvement, lest our stock of goods shouldn't hold out."</p>
<p>"A ransom! Old Tom has paid the fiddler, then, for nothing of mine would
have bought off the hair, much less the skin. I didn't think men as keen
set as them vagabonds would let a fellow up so easy, when they had him
fairly at a close hug, and floored. But money is money, and somehow it's
unnat'ral hard to withstand. Indian or white man, 'tis pretty much the
same. It must be owned, Judith, there's a considerable of human natur' in
mankind ginirally, arter all!"</p>
<p>Hutter now rose, and signing to Deerslayer, he led him to an inner room,
where, in answer to his questions, he first learned the price that had
been paid for his release. The old man expressed neither resentment nor
surprise at the inroad that had been made on his chest, though he did
manifest some curiosity to know how far the investigation of its contents
had been carried. He also inquired where the key had been found. The
habitual frankness of Deerslayer prevented any prevarication, and the
conference soon terminated by the return of the two to the outer room, or
that which served for the double purpose of parlour and kitchen.</p>
<p>"I wonder if it's peace or war, between us and the savages!" exclaimed
Hurry, just as Deerslayer, who had paused for a single instant, listened
attentively, and was passing through the outer door without stopping.
"This givin' up captives has a friendly look, and when men have traded
together on a fair and honourable footing they ought to part fri'nds, for
that occasion at least. Come back, Deerslayer, and let us have your
judgment, for I'm beginnin' to think more of you, since your late
behaviour, than I used to do."</p>
<p>"There's an answer to your question, Hurry, since you're in such haste to
come ag'in to blows."</p>
<p>As Deerslayer spoke, he threw on the table on which the other was
reclining with one elbow a sort of miniature fagot, composed of a dozen
sticks bound tightly together with a deer-skin thong. March seized it
eagerly, and holding it close to a blazing knot of pine that lay on the
hearth, and which gave out all the light there was in the room,
ascertained that the ends of the several sticks had been dipped in blood.</p>
<p>"If this isn't plain English," said the reckless frontier man, "it's plain
Indian! Here's what they call a dicliration of war, down at York, Judith.
How did you come by this defiance, Deerslayer?"</p>
<p>"Fairly enough. It lay not a minut' since, in what you call Floatin' Tom's
door-yard."</p>
<p>"How came it there?"</p>
<p>"It never fell from the clouds, Judith, as little toads sometimes do, and
then it don't rain."</p>
<p>"You must prove where it come from, Deerslayer, or we shall suspect some
design to skear them that would have lost their wits long ago, if fear
could drive 'em away."</p>
<p>Deerslayer had approached a window, and cast a glance out of it on the
dark aspect of the lake. As if satisfied with what he beheld, he drew near
Hurry, and took the bundle of sticks into his own hand, examining it
attentively.</p>
<p>"Yes, this is an Indian declaration of war, sure enough," he said, "and
it's a proof how little you're suited to be on the path it has travelled,
Harry March, that it has got here, and you never the wiser as to the
means. The savages may have left the scalp on your head, but they must
have taken off the ears; else you'd have heard the stirring of the water
made by the lad as he come off ag'in on his two logs. His ar'n'd was to
throw these sticks at our door, as much as to say, we've struck the
war-post since the trade, and the next thing will be to strike you."</p>
<p>"The prowling wolves! But hand me that rifle, Judith, and I'll send an
answer back to the vagabonds through their messenger."</p>
<p>"Not while I stand by, Master March," coolly put in Deerslayer, motioning
for the other to forbear. "Faith is faith, whether given to a red-skin, or
to a Christian. The lad lighted a knot, and came off fairly under its
blaze to give us this warning; and no man here should harm him, while
empl'yed on such an ar'n'd. There's no use in words, for the boy is too
cunning to leave the knot burning, now his business is done, and the night
is already too dark for a rifle to have any sartainty."</p>
<p>"That may be true enough, as to a gun, but there's virtue still in a
canoe," answered Hurry, passing towards the door with enormous strides,
carrying a rifle in his hands. "The being doesn't live that shall stop me
from following and bringing back that riptyle's scalp. The more on 'em
that you crush in the egg, the fewer there'll be to dart at you in the
woods!"</p>
<p>Judith trembled like the aspen, she scarce knew why herself, though there
was the prospect of a scene of violence; for if Hurry was fierce and
overbearing in the consciousness of his vast strength, Deerslayer had
about him the calm determination that promises greater perseverance, and a
resolution more likely to effect its object. It was the stern, resolute
eye of the latter, rather than the noisy vehemence of the first, that
excited her apprehensions. Hurry soon reached the spot where the canoe was
fastened, but not before Deerslayer had spoken in a quick, earnest voice
to the Serpent, in Delaware. The latter had been the first, in truth, to
hear the sounds of the oars, and he had gone upon the platform in jealous
watchfulness. The light satisfied him that a message was coming, and when
the boy cast his bundle of sticks at his feet, it neither moved his anger
nor induced surprise. He merely stood at watch, rifle in hand, to make
certain that no treachery lay behind the defiance. As Deerslayer now
called to him, he stepped into the canoe, and quick as thought removed the
paddles. Hurry was furious when he found that he was deprived of the means
of proceeding. He first approached the Indian with loud menaces, and even
Deerslayer stood aghast at the probable consequences. March shook his
sledge-hammer fists and flourished his arms as he drew near the Indian,
and all expected he would attempt to fell the Delaware to the earth; one
of them, at least, was well aware that such an experiment would be
followed by immediate bloodshed. But even Hurry was awed by the stern
composure of the chief, and he, too, knew that such a man was not to be
outraged with impunity; he therefore turned to vent his rage on
Deerslayer, where he foresaw no consequences so terrible. What might have
been the result of this second demonstration if completed, is unknown,
since it was never made.</p>
<p>"Hurry," said a gentle, soothing voice at his elbow, "it's wicked to be so
angry, and God will not overlook it. The Iroquois treated you well, and
they didn't take your scalp, though you and father wanted to take theirs."</p>
<p>The influence of mildness on passion is well known. Hetty, too, had earned
a sort of consideration, that had never before been enjoyed by her,
through the self-devotion and decision of her recent conduct. Perhaps her
established mental imbecility, by removing all distrust of a wish to
control, aided her influence. Let the cause be as questionable as it
might, the effect we sufficiently certain. Instead of throttling his old
fellow-traveler, Hurry turned to the girl and poured out a portion of his
discontent, if none of his anger, in her attentive ears.</p>
<p>"Tis too bad, Hetty!" he exclaimed; "as bad as a county gaol or a lack of
beaver, to get a creatur' into your very trap, then to see it get off. As
much as six first quality skins, in valie, has paddled off on them clumsy
logs, when twenty strokes of a well-turned paddle would overtake 'em. I
say in valie, for as to the boy in the way of natur', he is only a boy,
and is worth neither more nor less than one. Deerslayer, you've been
ontrue to your fri'nds in letting such a chance slip through my fingers
well as your own."</p>
<p>The answer was given quietly, but with a voice as steady as a fearless
nature and the consciousness of rectitude could make it. "I should have
been untrue to the right, had I done otherwise," returned the Deerslayer,
steadily; "and neither you, nor any other man has authority to demand that
much of me. The lad came on a lawful business, and the meanest red-skin
that roams the woods would be ashamed of not respecting his ar'n'd. But
he's now far beyond your reach, Master March, and there's little use in
talking, like a couple of women, of what can no longer be helped."</p>
<p>So saying, Deerslayer turned away, like one resolved to waste no more
words on the subject, while Hutter pulled Harry by the sleeve, and led him
into the ark. There they sat long in private conference. In the mean time,
the Indian and his friend had their secret consultation; for, though it
wanted some three or four hours to the rising of the star, the former
could not abstain from canvassing his scheme, and from opening his heart
to the other. Judith, too, yielded to her softer feelings, and listened to
the whole of Hetty's artless narrative of what occurred after she landed.
The woods had few terrors for either of these girls, educated as they had
been, and accustomed as they were to look out daily at their rich expanse
or to wander beneath their dark shades; but the elder sister felt that she
would have hesitated about thus venturing alone into an Iroquois camp.
Concerning Hist, Hetty was not very communicative. She spoke of her
kindness and gentleness and of the meeting in the forest; but the secret
of Chingachgook was guarded with a shrewdness and fidelity that many a
sharper-witted girl might have failed to display.</p>
<p>At length the several conferences were broken up by the reappearance of
Hutter on the platform. Here he assembled the whole party, and
communicated as much of his intentions as he deemed expedient. Of the
arrangement made by Deerslayer, to abandon the castle during the night and
to take refuge in the ark, he entirely approved. It struck him as it had
the others, as the only effectual means of escaping destruction. Now that
the savages had turned their attention to the construction of rafts, no
doubt could exist of their at least making an attempt to carry the
building, and the message of the bloody sticks sufficiently showed their
confidence in their own success. In short, the old man viewed the night as
critical, and he called on all to get ready as soon as possible, in order
to abandon the dwellings temporarily at least, if not forever.</p>
<p>These communications made, everything proceeded promptly and with
intelligence; the castle was secured in the manner already described, the
canoes were withdrawn from the dock and fastened to the ark by the side of
the other; the few necessaries that had been left in the house were
transferred to the cabin, the fire was extinguished and all embarked.</p>
<p>The vicinity of the hills, with their drapery of pines, had the effect to
render nights that were obscure darker than common on the lake. As usual,
however, a belt of comparative light was etched through the centre of the
sheet, while it was within the shadows of the mountains that the gloom
rested most heavily on the water. The island, or castle, stood in this
belt of comparative light, but still the night was so dark as to cover the
aperture of the ark. At the distance of an observer on the shore her
movements could not be seen at all, more particularly as a background of
dark hillside filled up the perspective of every view that was taken
diagonally or directly across the water. The prevailing wind on the lakes
of that region is west, but owing to the avenues formed by the mountains
it is frequently impossible to tell the true direction of the currents, as
they often vary within short distances and brief differences of time. This
is truer in light fluctuating puffs of air than in steady breezes; though
the squalls of even the latter are familiarly known to be uncertain and
baffling in all mountainous regions and narrow waters. On the present
occasion, Hutter himself (as he shoved the ark from her berth at the side
of the platform) was at a loss to pronounce which way the wind blew. In
common, this difficulty was solved by the clouds, which, floating high
above the hill tops, as a matter of course obeyed the currents; but now
the whole vault of heaven seemed a mass of gloomy wall. Not an opening of
any sort was visible, and Chingachgook was already trembling lest the
non-appearance of the star might prevent his betrothed from being punctual
to her appointment. Under these circumstances, Hutter hoisted his sail,
seemingly with the sole intention of getting away from the castle, as it
might be dangerous to remain much longer in its vicinity. The air soon
filled the cloth, and when the scow was got under command, and the sail
was properly trimmed, it was found that the direction was southerly,
inclining towards the eastern shore. No better course offering for the
purposes of the party, the singular craft was suffered to skim the surface
of the water in this direction for more than hour, when a change in the
currents of the air drove them over towards the camp.</p>
<p>Deerslayer watched all the movements of Hutter and Harry with jealous
attention. At first, he did not know whether to ascribe the course they
held to accident or to design; but he now began to suspect the latter.
Familiar as Hutter was with the lake, it was easy to deceive one who had
little practice on the water; and let his intentions be what they might,
it was evident, ere two hours had elapsed, that the ark had got sufficient
space to be within a hundred rods of the shore, directly abreast of the
known position of the camp. For a considerable time previously to reaching
this point, Hurry, who had some knowledge of the Algonquin language, had
been in close conference with the Indian, and the result was now announced
by the latter to Deerslayer, who had been a cold, not to say distrusted,
looker-on of all that passed.</p>
<p>"My old father, and my young brother, the Big Pine,"—for so the
Delaware had named March—"want to see Huron scalps at their belts,"
said Chingachgook to his friend. "There is room for some on the girdle of
the Sarpent, and his people will look for them when he goes back to his
village. Their eyes must not be left long in a fog, but they must see what
they look for. I know that my brother has a white hand; he will not strike
even the dead. He will wait for us; when we come back, he will not hide
his face from shame for his friend. The great Serpent of the Mohicans must
be worthy to go on the war-path with Hawkeye."</p>
<p>"Ay, ay, Sarpent, I see how it is; that name's to stick, and in time I
shall get to be known by it instead of Deerslayer; well, if such honours
will come, the humblest of us all must be willing to abide by 'em. As for
your looking for scalps, it belongs to your gifts, and I see no harm in
it. Be marciful, Sarpent, howsever; be marciful, I beseech of you. It
surely can do no harm to a red-skin's honour to show a little marcy. As
for the old man, the father of two young women, who might ripen better
feelin's in his heart, and Harry March, here, who, pine as he is, might
better bear the fruit of a more Christianized tree, as for them two, I
leave them in the hands of the white man's God. Wasn't it for the bloody
sticks, no man should go ag'in the Mingos this night, seein' that it would
dishonor our faith and characters; but them that crave blood can't
complain if blood is shed at their call. Still, Sarpent, you can be
marciful. Don't begin your career with the wails of women and the cries of
children. Bear yourself so that Hist will smile, and not weep, when she
meets you. Go, then; and the Manitou presarve you!"</p>
<p>"My brother will stay here with the scow. Wah will soon be standing on the
shore waiting, and Chingachgook must hasten."</p>
<p>The Indian then joined his two co-adventurers, and first lowering the
sail, they all three entered the canoe, and left the side of the ark.
Neither Hutter nor March spoke to Deerslayer concerning their object, or
the probable length of their absence. All this had been confided to the
Indian, who had acquitted himself of the trust with characteristic
brevity. As soon as the canoe was out of sight, and that occurred ere the
paddles had given a dozen strokes, Deerslayer made the best dispositions
he could to keep the ark as nearly stationary as possible; and then he sat
down in the end of the scow, to chew the cud of his own bitter
reflections. It was not long, however, before he was joined by Judith, who
sought every occasion to be near him, managing her attack on his
affections with the address that was suggested by native coquetry, aided
by no little practice, but which received much of its most dangerous power
from the touch of feeling that threw around her manner, voice, accents,
thoughts, and acts, the indescribable witchery of natural tenderness.
Leaving the young hunter exposed to these dangerous assailants, it has
become our more immediate business to follow the party in the canoe to the
shore.</p>
<p>The controlling influence that led Hutter and Hurry to repeat their
experiment against the camp was precisely that which had induced the first
attempt, a little heightened, perhaps, by the desire of revenge. But
neither of these two rude beings, so ruthless in all things that touched
the rights and interests of the red man, thought possessing veins of human
feeling on other matters, was much actuated by any other desire than a
heartless longing for profit. Hurry had felt angered at his sufferings,
when first liberated, it is true, but that emotion soon disappeared in the
habitual love of gold, which he sought with the reckless avidity of a
needy spendthrift, rather than with the ceaseless longings of a miser. In
short, the motive that urged them both so soon to go against the Hurons,
was an habitual contempt of their enemy, acting on the unceasing cupidity
of prodigality. The additional chances of success, however, had their
place in the formation of the second enterprise. It was known that a large
portion of the warriors—perhaps all—were encamped for the
night abreast of the castle, and it was hoped that the scalps of helpless
victims would be the consequence. To confess the truth, Hutter in
particular—he who had just left two daughters behind him—expected
to find few besides women and children in the camp. The fact had been but
slightly alluded to in his communications with Hurry, and with
Chingachgook it had been kept entirely out of view. If the Indian thought
of it at all, it was known only to himself.</p>
<p>Hutter steered the canoe; Hurry had manfully taken his post in the bows,
and Chingachgook stood in the centre. We say stood, for all three were so
skilled in the management of that species of frail bark, as to be able to
keep erect positions in the midst of the darkness. The approach to the
shore was made with great caution, and the landing effected in safety. The
three now prepared their arms, and began their tiger-like approach upon
the camp. The Indian was on the lead, his two companions treading in his
footsteps with a stealthy cautiousness of manner that rendered their
progress almost literally noiseless. Occasionally a dried twig snapped
under the heavy weight of the gigantic Hurry, or the blundering clumsiness
of the old man; but, had the Indian walked on air, his step could not have
seemed lighter. The great object was first to discover the position of the
fire, which was known to be the centre of the whole encampment. At length
the keen eye of Chingachgook caught a glimpse of this important guide. It
was glimmering at a distance among the trunks of trees. There was no
blaze, but merely a single smouldering brand, as suited the hour; the
savages usually retiring and rising with the revolutions of the sun.</p>
<p>As soon as a view was obtained of this beacon, the progress of the
adventurers became swifter and more certain. In a few minutes they got to
the edge of the circle of little huts. Here they stopped to survey their
ground, and to concert their movements. The darkness was so deep as to
render it difficult to distinguish anything but the glowing brand, the
trunks of the nearest trees, and the endless canopy of leaves that veiled
the clouded heaven. It was ascertained, however, that a hut was quite
near, and Chingachgook attempted to reconnnoitre its interior. The manner
in which the Indian approached the place that was supposed to contain
enemies, resembled the wily advances of the cat on the bird. As he drew
near, he stooped to his hands and knees, for the entrance was so low as to
require this attitude, even as a convenience. Before trusting his head
inside, however, he listened long to catch the breathing of sleepers. No
sound was audible, and this human Serpent thrust his head in at the door,
or opening, as another serpent would have peered in on the nest. Nothing
rewarded the hazardous experiment; for, after feeling cautiously with a
hand, the place was found to be empty.</p>
<p>The Delaware proceeded in the same guarded manner to one or two more of
the huts, finding all in the same situation. He then returned to his
companions, and informed them that the Hurons had deserted their camp. A
little further inquiry corroborated this fact, and it only remained to
return to the canoe. The different manner in which the adventurers bore
the disappointment is worthy of a passing remark. The chief, who had
landed solely with the hope of acquiring renown, stood stationary, leaning
against a tree, waiting the pleasure of his companions. He was mortified,
and a little surprised, it is true; but he bore all with dignity, falling
back for support on the sweeter expectations that still lay in reserve for
that evening. It was true, he could not now hope to meet his mistress with
the proofs of his daring and skill on his person, but he might still hope
to meet her; and the warrior, who was zealous in the search, might always
hope to be honored. On the other hand, Hutter and Hurry, who had been
chiefly instigated by the basest of all human motives, the thirst of gain,
could scarce control their feelings. They went prowling among the huts, as
if they expected to find some forgotten child or careless sleeper; and
again and again did they vent their spite on the insensible huts, several
of which were actually torn to pieces, and scattered about the place. Nay,
they even quarrelled with each other, and fierce reproaches passed between
them. It is possible some serious consequences might have occurred, had
not the Delaware interfered to remind them of the danger of being so
unguarded, and of the necessity of returning to the ark. This checked the
dispute, and in a few minutes they were paddling sullenly back to the spot
where they hoped to find that vessel.</p>
<p>It has been said that Judith took her place at the side of Deerslayer,
soon after the adventurers departed. For a short time the girl was silent,
and the hunter was ignorant which of the sisters had approached him, but
he soon recognized the rich, full-spirited voice of the elder, as her
feelings escaped in words.</p>
<p>"This is a terrible life for women, Deerslayer!" she exclaimed. "Would to
Heaven I could see an end of it!"</p>
<p>"The life is well enough, Judith," was the answer, "being pretty much as
it is used or abused. What would you wish to see in its place?"</p>
<p>"I should be a thousand times happier to live nearer to civilized beings—where
there are farms and churches, and houses built as it might be by Christian
hands; and where my sleep at night would be sweet and tranquil! A dwelling
near one of the forts would be far better than this dreary place where we
live!"</p>
<p>"Nay, Judith, I can't agree too lightly in the truth of all this. If forts
are good to keep off inimies, they sometimes hold inimies of their own. I
don't think 'twould be for your good, or the good of Hetty, to live near
one; and if I must say what I think, I'm afeard you are a little too near
as it is." Deerslayer went on, in his own steady, earnest manner, for the
darkness concealed the tints that colored the cheeks of the girl almost to
the brightness of crimson, while her own great efforts suppressed the
sounds of the breathing that nearly choked her. "As for farms, they have
their uses, and there's them that like to pass their lives on 'em; but
what comfort can a man look for in a clearin', that he can't find in
double quantities in the forest? If air, and room, and light, are a little
craved, the windrows and the streams will furnish 'em, or here are the
lakes for such as have bigger longings in that way; but where are you to
find your shades, and laughing springs, and leaping brooks, and vinerable
trees, a thousand years old, in a clearin'? You don't find them, but you
find their disabled trunks, marking the 'arth like headstones in a
graveyard. It seems to me that the people who live in such places must be
always thinkin' of their own inds, and of universal decay; and that, too,
not of the decay that is brought about by time and natur', but the decay
that follows waste and violence. Then as to churches, they are good, I
suppose, else wouldn't good men uphold 'em. But they are not altogether
necessary. They call 'em the temples of the Lord; but, Judith, the whole
'arth is a temple of the Lord to such as have the right mind. Neither
forts nor churches make people happier of themselves. Moreover, all is
contradiction in the settlements, while all is concord in the woods. Forts
and churches almost always go together, and yet they're downright
contradictions; churches being for peace, and forts for war. No, no—give
me the strong places of the wilderness, which is the trees, and the
churches, too, which are arbors raised by the hand of natur'."</p>
<p>"Woman is not made for scenes like these, Deerslayer, scenes of which we
shall have no end, as long as this war lasts."</p>
<p>"If you mean women of white colour, I rather think you're not far from the
truth, gal; but as for the females of the redmen, such visitations are
quite in character. Nothing would make Hist, now, the bargained wife of
yonder Delaware, happier than to know that he is at this moment prowling
around his nat'ral inimies, striving after a scalp."</p>
<p>"Surely, surely, Deerslayer, she cannot be a woman, and not feel concern
when she thinks the man she loves is in danger!"</p>
<p>"She doesn't think of the danger, Judith, but of the honor; and when the
heart is desperately set on such feelin's, why, there is little room to
crowd in fear. Hist is a kind, gentle, laughing, pleasant creatur', but
she loves honor, as well as any Delaware gal I ever know'd. She's to meet
the Sarpent an hour hence, on the p'int where Hetty landed, and no doubt
she has her anxiety about it, like any other woman; but she'd be all the
happier did she know that her lover was at this moment waylaying a Mingo
for his scalp."</p>
<p>"If you really believe this, Deerslayer, no wonder you lay so much stress
on gifts. Certain am I, that no white girl could feel anything but misery
while she believed her betrothed in danger of his life! Nor do I suppose
even you, unmoved and calm as you ever seem to be, could be at peace if
you believed your Hist in danger."</p>
<p>"That's a different matter—'tis altogether a different matter,
Judith. Woman is too weak and gentle to be intended to run such risks, and
man must feel for her. Yes, I rather think that's as much red natur' as
it's white. But I have no Hist, nor am I like to have; for I hold it wrong
to mix colours, any way except in friendship and sarvices."</p>
<p>"In that you are and feel as a white man should! As for Hurry Harry, I do
think it would be all the same to him whether his wife were a squaw or a
governor's daughter, provided she was a little comely, and could help to
keep his craving stomach full."</p>
<p>"You do March injustice, Judith; yes, you do. The poor fellow dotes on
you, and when a man has ra'ally set his heart on such a creatur' it isn't
a Mingo, or even a Delaware gal, that'll be likely to unsettle his mind.
You may laugh at such men as Hurry and I, for we're rough and unteached in
the ways of books and other knowledge; but we've our good p'ints, as well
as our bad ones. An honest heart is not to be despised, gal, even though
it be not varsed in all the niceties that please the female fancy."</p>
<p>"You, Deerslayer! And do you—can you, for an instant, suppose I
place you by the side of Harry March? No, no, I am not so far gone in
dullness as that. No one—man or woman—could think of naming
your honest heart, manly nature, and simple truth, with the boisterous
selfishness, greedy avarice, and overbearing ferocity of Harry March. The
very best that can be said of him, is to be found in his name of Hurry
Skurry, which, if it means no great harm, means no great good. Even my
father, following his feelings with the other, as he is doing at this
moment, well knows the difference between you. This I know, for he said as
much to me, in plain language."</p>
<p>Judith was a girl of quick sensibilities and of impetuous feelings; and,
being under few of the restraints that curtail the manifestations of
maiden emotions among those who are educated in the habits of civilized
life, she sometimes betrayed the latter with a feeling that was so purely
natural as to place it as far above the wiles of coquetry as it was
superior to its heartlessness. She had now even taken one of the hard
hands of the hunter and pressed it between both her own, with a warmth and
earnestness that proved how sincere was her language. It was perhaps
fortunate that she was checked by the very excess of her feelings, since
the same power might have urged her on to avow all that her father had
said—the old man not having been satisfied with making a comparison
favorable to Deerslayer, as between the hunter and Hurry, but having
actually, in his blunt rough way, briefly advised his daughter to cast off
the latter entirely, and to think of the former as a husband. Judith would
not willingly have said this to any other man, but there was so much
confidence awakened by the guileless simplicity of Deerslayer, that one of
her nature found it a constant temptation to overstep the bounds of habit.
She went no further, however, immediately relinquishing the hand, and
falling back on a reserve that was more suited to her sex, and, indeed, to
her natural modesty.</p>
<p>"Thankee, Judith, thankee with all my heart," returned the hunter, whose
humility prevented him from placing any flattering interpretation on
either the conduct or the language of the girl. "Thankee as much as if it
was all true. Harry's sightly—yes, he's as sightly as the tallest
pine of the mountains, and the Sarpent has named him accordingly; however,
some fancy good looks, and some fancy good conduct, only. Hurry has one
advantage, and it depends on himself whether he'll have t'other or—Hark!
That's your father's voice, gal, and he speaks like a man who's riled at
something."</p>
<p>"God save us from any more of these horrible scenes!" exclaimed Judith,
bending her face to her knees, and endeavoring to exclude the discordant
sounds, by applying her hands to her ears. "I sometimes wish I had no
father!"</p>
<p>This was bitterly said, and the repinings which extorted the words were
bitterly felt. It is impossible to say what might next have escaped her
had not a gentle, low voice spoken at her elbow.</p>
<p>"Judith, I ought to have read a chapter to father and Hurry!" said the
innocent but terrified speaker, "and that would have kept them from going
again on such an errand. Do you call to them, Deerslayer, and tell them I
want them, and that it will be good for them both if they'll return and
hearken to my words."</p>
<p>"Ah's me! Poor Hetty, you little know the cravin's for gold and revenge,
if you believe they are so easily turned aside from their longin's! But
this is an uncommon business in more ways than one, Judith. I hear your
father and Hurry growling like bears, and yet no noise comes from the
mouth of the young chief. There's an ind of secrecy, and yet his whoop,
which ought to ring in the mountains, accordin' to rule in such
sarcumstances, is silent!"</p>
<p>"Justice may have alighted on him, and his death have saved the lives of
the innocent."</p>
<p>"Not it—not it—the Sarpent is not the one to suffer if that's
to be the law. Sartainly there has been no onset, and 'tis most likely
that the camp's deserted, and the men are comin' back disapp'inted. That
accounts for the growls of Hurry and the silence of the Sarpent."</p>
<p>Just at this instant a fall of a paddle was heard in the canoe, for
vexation made March reckless. Deerslayer felt convinced that his
conjecture was true. The sail being down, the ark had not drifted far; and
ere many minutes he heard Chingachgook, in a low, quiet tone, directing
Hutter how to steer in order to reach it. In less time than it takes to
tell the fact, the canoe touched the scow, and the adventurers entered the
latter. Neither Hutter nor Hurry spoke of what had occurred. But the
Delaware, in passing his friend, merely uttered the words "fire's out,"
which, if not literally true, sufficiently explained the truth to his
listener.</p>
<p>It was now a question as to the course to be steered. A short surly
conference was held, when Hutter decided that the wisest way would be to
keep in motion as the means most likely to defeat any attempt at a
surprise—announcing his own and March's intention to requite
themselves for the loss of sleep during their captivity, by lying down. As
the air still baffled and continued light, it was finally determined to
sail before it, let it come in what direction it might, so long as it did
not blow the ark upon the strand. This point settled, the released
prisoners helped to hoist the sail, and they threw themselves upon two of
the pallets, leaving Deerslayer and his friend to look after the movements
of the craft. As neither of the latter was disposed to sleep, on account
of the appointment with Hist, this arrangement was acceptable to all
parties. That Judith and Hetty remained up also, in no manner impaired the
agreeable features of this change.</p>
<p>For some time the scow rather drifted than sailed along the western shore,
following a light southerly current of the air. The progress was slow—not
exceeding a couple of miles in the hour—but the two men perceived
that it was not only carrying them towards the point they desired to
reach, but at a rate that was quite as fast as the hour yet rendered
necessary. But little more was said the while even by the girls; and that
little had more reference to the rescue of Hist than to any other subject.
The Indian was calm to the eye, but as minute after minute passed, his
feelings became more and more excited, until they reached a state that
might have satisfied the demands of even the most exacting mistress.
Deerslayer kept the craft as much in the bays as was prudent, for the
double purpose of sailing within the shadows of the woods, and of
detecting any signs of an encampment they might pass on the shore. In this
manner they doubled one low point, and were already in the bay that was
terminated north by the goal at which they aimed. The latter was still a
quarter of a mile distant, when Chingachgook came silently to the side of
his friend and pointed to a place directly ahead. A small fire was
glimmering just within the verge of the bushes that lined the shore on the
southern side of the point—leaving no doubt that the Indians had
suddenly removed their camp to the very place, or at least the very
projection of land where Hist had given them the rendezvous!</p>
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