Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (49 page)

“What sign or signal told the young maiden that her lover was nigh?” asked the old Huron, with more curiosity than it was usual for him to betray.

Deerslayer laughed again, and seemed to enjoy the success of the exploit with as much glee as if he had not been its victim.

“Your squirrels are great gadabouts, Mingo!” he cried, still laughing—“yes, they’re sartainly great gadabouts! When other folks’ squirrels are at home and asleep, your’n keep in motion among the trees, and chirrup and sing in a way that even a Delaware girl can understand their music! Well, there’s four-legged squirrels, and there’s two-legged squirrels, and give me the last, when there’s a good tight string atween two hearts. If one brings ‘em together, t’other tells when to pull the hardest.”

The Huron looked vexed, though he succeeded in suppressing any violent exhibition of resentment. He soon quitted his prisoner, and joining the rest of his warriors, he communicated the substance of what he had learned. As in his own case admiration was mingled with anger at the boldness and success of their enemies. Three or four of them ascended the little acclivity and gazed at the tree where it was understood the adventurers had posted themselves, and one even descended and examined for footprints around its roots, in order to make sure that the statement was true. The result confirmed the story of the captive, and they all returned to the fire with increased wonder and respect. The messenger, who had arrived with some communication from the party above while the two adventurers were watching the camp, was now dispatched with some answer, and doubtless bore with him the intelligence of all that had happened.
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Down to this moment, the young Indian who had been seen walking in company with Hist and another female, had made no advances to any communication with Deerslayer. He had held himself aloof from his friends even, passing near the bevy of younger women who were clustering together, apart as usual, and conversed in low tones on the subject of the escape of their late companion. Perhaps it would be true to say, that these last were pleased as well as vexed at what had just occurred. Their female sympathies were with the lovers, while their pride was bound up in the success of their own tribe. It is possible, too, that the superior personal advantages of Hist rendered her dangerous to some of the younger part of the group, and they were not sorry to find she was no longer in the way of their own ascendency. On the whole, however, the better feeling was most prevalent; for neither the wild condition in which they lived, the clannish prejudices of tribes, nor their hard fortunes as Indian women, could entirely conquer the inextinguishable leaning of their sex to the affections. One of the girls even laughed at the disconsolate look of the swain who might fancy himself deserted, a circumstance that seemed suddenly to arouse his energies, and induced him to move towards the log on which the prisoner was still seated, drying his clothes.

“This is Catamount!” said the Indian, striking his hand boastfully on his naked breast as he uttered the words, in a manner to show how much weight he expected them to carry

“This is Hawkeye,” quietly returned Deerslayer, adopting the name by which he knew he would be known in future among all the tribes of the Iroquois. “My sight is keen; is my brother’s leap long?”

“From here to the Delaware villages. Hawkeye has stolen my wife; he must bring her back, or his scalp will hang on a pole and dry in my wigwam.”

“Hawkeye has stolen nothing, Huron. He doesn’t come of a thieving breed, nor has he thieving gifts. Your wife, as you call Wah-ta-Wah, will never be the wife of any redskin of the Canadas; her mind is in the cabin of a Delaware, and her body has gone to find it. The catamount is actyve, I know; but its legs can’t keep pace with a woman’s wishes.”

“The Serpent of the Delawares is a dog; he is a poor bullpout that keeps in the water; he is afraid to stand on the hard earth like a brave Indian! ”

“Well, well, Huron, that’s pretty impudent, considering it’s not an hour since the Sarpent stood within a hundred feet of you, and would have tried the toughness of your skin with a rifle bullet, when I pointed you out to him, hadn’t I laid the weight of a little judgment on his hand. You may take in timersome gals in the settlements with your catamount whine; but the ears of a man can tell truth from ontruth.”

“Hist laughs at him! She sees he is lame, and a poor hunter, and he has never been on a warpath. She will take a man for a husband, and not a fool.”

“How do you know that, Catamount? how do you know that?” returned Deerslayer, laughing. “She has gone into the lake, you see, and maybe she prefers a trout to a mongrel cat. As for warpaths, neither the Sarpent nor I have much exper‘ence, we are ready to own; but if you don’t call this one, you must tarm it what the gals in the settlements tarm it, the high road to matrimony. Take my advice, Catamount, and s’arch for a wife among the Huron women; you’ll never get one with a willing mind from among the Delawares.”

Catamount’s hand felt for his tomahawk, and when the fingers reached the handle they worked convulsively, as if their owner hesitated between policy and resentment. At this critical moment Rivenoak approached, and, by a gesture of authority, induced the young man to retire, assuming his former position, himself on the log at the side of Deerslayer. Here he continued silent for a little time, maintaining the grave reserve of an Indian chief

“Hawkeye is right,” the Iroquois at length began; “his sight is so strong that he can see truth in a dark night, and our eyes have been blinded. He is an owl, darkness hiding nothing from him. He ought not to strike his friends. He is right.”

“I’m glad you think so, Mingo,” returned the other, “for a traitor, in my judgment, is worse than a coward. I care as little for the Muskrat as one paleface ought to care for another; but I care too much for him to ambush him in the way you wished. In short, according to my idees, any sarcumvention, except open-war sarcumventions, are ag‘in both law, and what we whites call ‛gospel,’ too.”

“My paleface brother is right; he is no Indian to forget his Manitou and his color. The Hurons know that they have a great warrior for their prisoner, and they will treat him as one. If he is to be tortured, his torments shall be such as no common man can bear; if he is to be treated as a friend, it will be the friendship of chiefs.”

As the Huron uttered this extraordinary assurance of consideration his eye furtively glanced at the countenance of his listener, in order to discover how he stood the compliment; though his gravity and apparent sincerity would have prevented any man but one practiced in artifices, from detecting his motives. Deerslayer belonged to the class of the unsuspicious; and acquainted with the Indian notions of what constituted respect, in matters connected with the treatment of captives, he felt his blood chill at the announcement, even while he maintained an aspect so steeled that his quick-sighted enemy could discover in it no sign of weakness.

“God has put me in your hands, Huron,” the captive at length answered, “and I suppose you will act your will on me. I shall not boast of what I can do, under torment, for I’ve never been tried, and no man can say till he has been; but I’ll do my endivors not to disgrace the people among whom I got my training. Howsever, I wish you now to bear witness, that I’m altogether of white blood, and, in a nat’ral way, of white gifts, too; so, should I be overcome and forget myself, I hope you’ll lay the fault where it properly belongs; and in no manner put it on the Delawares, or their allies and friends the Mohicans. We’re all created with more or less weakness, and I’m afeard it’s a paleface’s to give in under great bodily torment, when a redskin will sing his songs, and boast of his deeds in the very teeth of his foes!”

“We shall see. Hawkeye has a good countenance, and he is tough—but why should he be tormented when the Hurons love him? He is not born their enemy; and the death of one warrior will not cast a cloud between them forever.”

“So much the better, Huron; so much the better. Still, I don’t wish to owe anything to a mistake about each other’s meaning. It is so much the better that you bear no malice for the loss of a warrior who fell in war; and yet it is ontrue that there is no inmity—lawful inmity, I mean, atween us. So far as I have redskin feelin’s at all, I’ve Delaware feelin’s; and I leave you to judge for yourself, how far they are likely to be fri’ndly to the Mingos—”

Deerslayer ceased, for a sort of specter stood before him that put a stop to his words, and, indeed, caused him for a moment to doubt the fidelity of his boasted vision. Hetty Hutter was standing at the side of the fire, as quietly as if she belonged to the tribe.

As the hunter and the Indian sat watching the emotions that were betrayed in each other’s countenance the girl had approached unnoticed, doubtless ascending the beach on the southern side of the point, or that next to the spot where the ark had anchored, and had advanced to the fire with the fearlessness that belonged to her simplicity, and which was certainly justified by the treatment formerly received from the Indians. As soon as Rivenoak perceived the girl she was recognized, and calling to two or three of the young warriors, the chief sent them out to reconnoitre, lest her appearance should be the forerunner of another attack. He then motioned to Hetty to draw near.

“I hope your visit is a sign that the Sarpent and Hist are in safety, Hetty,” said Deerslayer, as soon as the girl had complied with the Huron’s request. “I don’t think you’d come ashore ag‘in on the arr’nd that brought you here afore.”

“Judith told me to come this time, Deerslayer,” Hetty replied; “she paddled me ashore herself, in a canoe, as soon as the Serpent had shown her Hist, and told his story. How handsome Hist is tonight, Deerslayer, and how much happier she looks than when she was with the Hurons!”

“That’s natur‘, gal; yes, that may be set down as human natur’. She’s with her betrothed, and no longer fears a Mingo husband. In my judgment, Judith herself would lose most of her beauty if she thought she was to bestow it all on a Mingo! Content is a great fortifier of good looks; and I’ll warrant you, Hist is contented enough now she is out of the hands of these miscreants and with her chosen warrior! Did you say that your sister told you to come ashore—why should Judith do that?”

“She bid me come to see you, and to try and persuade the savages to take more elephants to let you off; but I’ve brought the Bible with me—that will do more than all the elephants in father’s chest!”

“And your father, good little Hetty—and Hurry; did they know of your arr’nd?”

“Nothing. Both are asleep; and Judith and the Serpent thought it best they should not be woke, lest they might want to come again after scalps, when Hist had told them how few warriors, and how many women and children there were in the camp, Judith would give me no peace till I had come ashore, to see what had happened to you.”

“Well, that’s remarkable as consarns Judith! Why should she feel so much unsartainty about me? Ah, I see how it is now; yes, I see into the whole matter now. You must understand, Hetty, that your sister is oneasy lest Harry March should wake, and come blundering here into the hands of the inimy ag’in, under some idee that, being a traveling comrade, he ought to help me in this matter! Hurry is a blunderer, I will allow; but I don’t think he’d risk as much for my sake as he would for his own.”

“Judith don’t care for Hurry, though Hurry cares for her,” replied Hetty innocently, but quite positively.

“I’ve heard you say as much as that afore; yes, I’ve heard that from you afore, gal, and yet it isn’t true. One don’t live in a tribe, not to see something of the way in which liking works in a woman’s heart. Though no way given to marrying myself, I’ve been a looker-on among the Delawares, and this is a matter in which paleface and redskin gifts are all as one the same. When the feelin’ begins, the young woman is thoughtful, and has no eyes or ears onless for the warrior that has taken her fancy; then follows melancholy and sighing, and such sort of actions; after which, especially if matters don’t come to a plain discourse, she often flies round to backbiting and faultfinding, blaming the youth for the very things she likes best in him. Some young creatur’s are forward in this way of showing their love, and I’m of opinion Judith is one of ’em. Now I’ve heard her as much as deny that Hurry was good-looking; and the young woman who could do that, must be far gone indeed.”

“The young woman who liked Hurry would own that he is handsome. I think Hurry very handsome, Deerslayer, and I’m sure everybody must think so that has eyes. Judith don’t like Harry March, and that’s the reason she finds fault with him.”

“Well—well—my good little Hetty, have it your own way If we should talk from now till winter, each would think as at present; and there’s no use in words. I must believe that Judith is much wrapped up in Hurry, and that sooner or later she’ll have him; and this, too, all the more from the manner in which she abuses him; and I dare to say, you think just the contrary But mind what I now tell you, gal, and pretend not to know it,” continued this being, who was so obtuse on a point on which men are usually quick enough to make discoveries, and so acute in matters that would baffle the observation of much the greater portion of mankind; “I see how it is with them vagabonds. Rivenoak has left us, you see, and is talking yonder with his young men; and though too far to be heard, I can see what he is telling them. Their orders is to watch your movements, and to find where the canoe is to meet you, to take you back to the ark, and then to seize all and what they can. I’m sorry Judith sent you, for I suppose she wants you to go back ag’in.”

“All that’s settled, Deerslayer,” returned the girl in a low, confidential, and meaning manner; “and you may trust me to outwit the best Indian of them all. I know I am feebleminded, but I’ve got some sense, and you’ll see how I’ll use it in getting back, when my errand is done!”

“Ah’s me! poor girl; I’m afeard all that’s easier said than done. They’re a venomous set of riptyles, and their pi’son’s none the milder for the loss of Hist. Well, I’m glad the Sarpent was the one to get off with the gal; for now they’ll be two happy, at least; whereas had he fallen into the hands of the Mingos, there’d be two miserable, and another far from feelin’ as a man likes to feel.”