“Clear, placid Leman I Thy contrasted lake
With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing
Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring.
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
To waft me from distraction; once I loved
Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring
Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved,
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.”
BYRON.
Day had fairly dawned before the young man, whom we have left in the
situation described in the last chapter, again opened his eyes. This
was no sooner done, than he started up, and looked about him with
the eagerness of one who suddenly felt the importance of accurately
ascertaining his precise position. His rest had been deep and
undisturbed; and when he awoke, it was with a clearness of intellect and
a readiness of resources that were very much needed at that particular
moment. The sun had not risen, it is true, but the vault of heaven was
rich with the winning softness that “brings and shuts the day,” while
the whole air was filled with the carols of birds, the hymns of the
feathered tribe. These sounds first told Deerslayer the risks he ran.
The air, for wind it could scarce be called, was still light, it is
true, but it had increased a little in the course of the night, and
as the canoes were feathers on the water, they had drifted twice the
expected distance; and, what was still more dangerous, had approached
so near the base of the mountain that here rose precipitously from the
eastern shore, as to render the carols of the birds plainly audible.
This was not the worst. The third canoe had taken the same direction,
and was slowly drifting towards a point where it must inevitably
touch, unless turned aside by a shift of wind, or human hands. In other
respects, nothing presented itself to attract attention, or to awaken
alarm. The castle stood on its shoal, nearly abreast of the canoes, for
the drift had amounted to miles in the course of the night, and the ark
lay fastened to its piles, as both had been left so many hours before.
As a matter of course, Deerslayer's attention was first given to the
canoe ahead. It was already quite near the point, and a very few strokes
of the paddle sufficed to tell him that it must touch before he could
possibly overtake it. Just at this moment, too, the wind inopportunely
freshened, rendering the drift of the light craft much more rapid than
certain. Feeling the impossibility of preventing a contact with
the land, the young man wisely determined not to heat himself with
unnecessary exertions; but first looking to the priming of his piece,
he proceeded slowly and warily towards the point, taking care to make
a little circuit, that he might be exposed on only one side, as he
approached.
The canoe adrift being directed by no such intelligence, pursued its
proper way, and grounded on a small sunken rock, at the distance of
three or four yards from the shore. Just at that moment, Deerslayer had
got abreast of the point, and turned the bows of his own boat to
the land; first casting loose his tow, that his movements might be
unencumbered. The canoe hung an instant to the rock; then it rose a
hair's breadth on an almost imperceptible swell of the water, swung
round, floated clear, and reached the strand. All this the young man
noted, but it neither quickened his pulses, nor hastened his hand. If
any one had been lying in wait for the arrival of the waif, he must
be seen, and the utmost caution in approaching the shore became
indispensable; if no one was in ambush, hurry was unnecessary. The point
being nearly diagonally opposite to the Indian encampment, he hoped the
last, though the former was not only possible, but probable; for the
savages were prompt in adopting all the expedients of their particular
modes of warfare, and quite likely had many scouts searching the shores
for craft to carry them off to the castle. As a glance at the lake
from any height or projection would expose the smallest object on its
surface, there was little hope that either of the canoes would pass
unseen; and Indian sagacity needed no instruction to tell which way a
boat or a log would drift, when the direction of the wind was known. As
Deerslayer drew nearer and nearer to the land, the stroke of his paddle
grew slower, his eye became more watchful, and his ears and nostrils
almost dilated with the effort to detect any lurking danger. It was a
trying moment for a novice, nor was there the encouragement which
even the timid sometimes feel, when conscious of being observed and
commended. He was entirely alone, thrown on his own resources, and
was cheered by no friendly eye, emboldened by no encouraging voice.
Notwithstanding all these circumstances, the most experienced veteran
in forest warfare could not have behaved better. Equally free from
recklessness and hesitation, his advance was marked by a sort of
philosophical prudence that appeared to render him superior to all
motives but those which were best calculated to effect his purpose. Such
was the commencement of a career in forest exploits, that afterwards
rendered this man, in his way, and under the limits of his habits and
opportunities, as renowned as many a hero whose name has adorned the
pages of works more celebrated than legends simple as ours can ever
become.
When about a hundred yards from the shore, Deerslayer rose in the canoe,
gave three or four vigorous strokes with the paddle, sufficient of
themselves to impel the bark to land, and then quickly laying aside the
instrument of labor, he seized that of war. He was in the very act of
raising the rifle, when a sharp report was followed by the buzz of a
bullet that passed so near his body as to cause him involuntarily to
start. The next instant Deerslayer staggered, and fell his whole
length in the bottom of the canoe. A yell--it came from a single
voice--followed, and an Indian leaped from the bushes upon the open area
of the point, bounding towards the canoe. This was the moment the young
man desired. He rose on the instant, and levelled his own rifle at his
uncovered foe; but his finger hesitated about pulling the trigger on one
whom he held at such a disadvantage. This little delay, probably, saved
the life of the Indian, who bounded back into the cover as swiftly as
he had broken out of it. In the meantime Deerslayer had been swiftly
approaching the land, and his own canoe reached the point just as his
enemy disappeared. As its movements had not been directed, it touched
the shore a few yards from the other boat; and though the rifle of his
foe had to be loaded, there was not time to secure his prize, and carry
it beyond danger, before he would be exposed to another shot. Under the
circumstances, therefore, he did not pause an instant, but dashed into
the woods and sought a cover.
On the immediate point there was a small open area, partly in native
grass, and partly beach, but a dense fringe of bushes lined its
upper side. This narrow belt of dwarf vegetation passed, one issued
immediately into the high and gloomy vaults of the forest. The land was
tolerably level for a few hundred feet, and then it rose precipitously
in a mountainside. The trees were tall, large, and so free from
underbrush, that they resembled vast columns, irregularly scattered,
upholding a dome of leaves. Although they stood tolerably close
together, for their ages and size, the eye could penetrate to
considerable distances; and bodies of men, even, might have engaged
beneath their cover, with concert and intelligence.
Deerslayer knew that his adversary must be employed in reloading, unless
he had fled. The former proved to be the case, for the young man had no
sooner placed himself behind a tree, than he caught a glimpse of the arm
of the Indian, his body being concealed by an oak, in the very act of
forcing the leathered bullet home. Nothing would have been easier than
to spring forward, and decide the affair by a close assault on his
unprepared foe; but every feeling of Deerslayer revolted at such a step,
although his own life had just been attempted from a cover. He was yet
unpracticed in the ruthless expedients of savage warfare, of which he
knew nothing except by tradition and theory, and it struck him as unfair
advantage to assail an unarmed foe. His color had heightened, his eye
frowned, his lips were compressed, and all his energies were collected
and ready; but, instead of advancing to fire, he dropped his rifle to
the usual position of a sportsman in readiness to catch his aim, and
muttered to himself, unconscious that he was speaking--
“No, no--that may be red-skin warfare, but it's not a Christian's gifts.
Let the miscreant charge, and then we'll take it out like men; for the
canoe he must not, and shall not have. No, no; let him have time to
load, and God will take care of the right!”
All this time the Indian had been so intent on his own movements,
that he was even ignorant that his enemy was in the woods. His only
apprehension was, that the canoe would be recovered and carried away
before he might be in readiness to prevent it. He had sought the cover
from habit, but was within a few feet of the fringe of bushes, and could
be at the margin of the forest in readiness to fire in a moment. The
distance between him and his enemy was about fifty yards, and the trees
were so arranged by nature that the line of sight was not interrupted,
except by the particular trees behind which each party stood.
His rifle was no sooner loaded, than the savage glanced around him, and
advanced incautiously as regarded the real, but stealthily as respected
the fancied position of his enemy, until he was fairly exposed. Then
Deerslayer stepped from behind its own cover, and hailed him.
“This-a-way, red-skin; this-a-way, if you're looking for me,” he called
out. “I'm young in war, but not so young as to stand on an open beach to
be shot down like an owl, by daylight. It rests on yourself whether it's
peace or war atween us; for my gifts are white gifts, and I'm not one
of them that thinks it valiant to slay human mortals, singly, in the
woods.”
The savage was a good deal startled by this sudden discovery of the
danger he ran. He had a little knowledge of English, however, and caught
the drift of the other's meaning. He was also too well schooled to
betray alarm, but, dropping the butt of his rifle to the earth, with
an air of confidence, he made a gesture of lofty courtesy. All this was
done with the ease and self-possession of one accustomed to consider no
man his superior. In the midst of this consummate acting, however, the
volcano that raged within caused his eyes to glare, and his nostrils to
dilate, like those of some wild beast that is suddenly prevented from
taking the fatal leap.
“Two canoes,” he said, in the deep guttural tones of his race, holding
up the number of fingers he mentioned, by way of preventing mistakes;
“one for you--one for me.”
“No, no, Mingo, that will never do. You own neither; and neither shall
you have, as long as I can prevent it. I know it's war atween your
people and mine, but that's no reason why human mortals should slay each
other, like savage creatur's that meet in the woods; go your way, then,
and leave me to go mine. The world is large enough for us both; and when
we meet fairly in battle, why, the Lord will order the fate of each of
us.”
“Good!” exclaimed the Indian; “my brother missionary--great talk; all
about Manitou.”
“Not so--not so, warrior. I'm not good enough for the Moravians, and am
too good for most of the other vagabonds that preach about in the woods.
No, no; I'm only a hunter, as yet, though afore the peace is made,
'tis like enough there'll be occasion to strike a blow at some of your
people. Still, I wish it to be done in fair fight, and not in a quarrel
about the ownership of a miserable canoe.”
“Good! My brother very young--but he is very wise. Little warrior--great
talker. Chief, sometimes, in council.”
“I don't know this, nor do I say it, Injin,” returned Deerslayer,
coloring a little at the ill-concealed sarcasm of the other's manner;
“I look forward to a life in the woods, and I only hope it may be a
peaceable one. All young men must go on the war-path, when there's
occasion, but war isn't needfully massacre. I've seen enough of the
last, this very night, to know that Providence frowns on it; and I now
invite you to go your own way, while I go mine; and hope that we may
part fri'nds.”
“Good! My brother has two scalp--gray hair under 'other. Old
wisdom--young tongue.”
Here the savage advanced with confidence, his hand extended, his face
smiling, and his whole bearing denoting amity and respect. Deerslayer
met his offered friendship in a proper spirit, and they shook hands
cordially, each endeavoring to assure the other of his sincerity and
desire to be at peace.
“All have his own,” said the Indian; “my canoe, mine; your canoe,
your'n. Go look; if your'n, you keep; if mine, I keep.”
“That's just, red-skin; thought you must be wrong in thinking the canoe
your property. Howsever, seein' is believin', and we'll go down to the
shore, where you may look with your own eyes; for it's likely you'll
object to trustin' altogether to mine.”
The Indian uttered his favorite exclamation of “Good!” and then they
walked side by side, towards the shore. There was no apparent distrust
in the manner of either, the Indian moving in advance, as if he wished
to show his companion that he did not fear turning his back to him. As
they reached the open ground, the former pointed towards Deerslayer's
boat, and said emphatically--“No mine--pale-face canoe. This red man's.
No want other man's canoe--want his own.”
“You're wrong, red-skin, you're altogether wrong. This canoe was left
in old Hutter's keeping, and is his'n according to law, red or white,
till its owner comes to claim it. Here's the seats and the stitching of
the bark to speak for themselves. No man ever know'd an Injin to turn
off such work.”
“Good! My brother little old--big wisdom. Injin no make him. White man's
work.”
“I'm glad you think so, for holding out to the contrary might have made
ill blood atween us, every one having a right to take possession of his
own. I'll just shove the canoe out of reach of dispute at once, as the
quickest way of settling difficulties.”
While Deerslayer was speaking, he put a foot against the end of the
light boat, and giving a vigorous shove, he sent it out into the lake
a hundred feet or more, where, taking the true current, it would
necessarily float past the point, and be in no further danger of coming
ashore. The savage started at this ready and decided expedient, and his
companion saw that he cast a hurried and fierce glance at his own canoe,
or that which contained the paddles. The change of manner, however, was
but momentary, and then the Iroquois resumed his air of friendliness,
and a smile of satisfaction.
“Good!” he repeated, with stronger emphasis than ever. “Young head, old
mind. Know how to settle quarrel. Farewell, brother. He go to house in
water--muskrat house--Injin go to camp; tell chiefs no find canoe.”
Deerslayer was not sorry to hear this proposal, for he felt anxious
to join the females, and he took the offered hand of the Indian very
willingly. The parting words were friendly, and while the red man
walked calmly towards the wood, with the rifle in the hollow of his arm,
without once looking back in uneasiness or distrust, the white man moved
towards the remaining canoe, carrying his piece in the same pacific
manner, it is true, but keeping his eye fastened on the movements of the
other. This distrust, however, seemed to be altogether uncalled for, and
as if ashamed to have entertained it, the young man averted his look,
and stepped carelessly up to his boat. Here he began to push the canoe
from the shore, and to make his other preparations for departing. He
might have been thus employed a minute, when, happening to turn his face
towards the land, his quick and certain eye told him, at a glance, the
imminent jeopardy in which his life was placed. The black, ferocious
eyes of the savage were glancing on him, like those of the crouching
tiger, through a small opening in the bushes, and the muzzle of his
rifle seemed already to be opening in a line with his own body.
Then, indeed, the long practice of Deerslayer, as a hunter did him good
service. Accustomed to fire with the deer on the bound, and often when
the precise position of the animal's body had in a manner to be guessed
at, he used the same expedients here. To cock and poise his rifle were
the acts of a single moment and a single motion: then aiming almost
without sighting, he fired into the bushes where he knew a body ought
to be, in order to sustain the appalling countenance which alone was
visible. There was not time to raise the piece any higher, or to take
a more deliberate aim. So rapid were his movements that both parties
discharged their pieces at the same instant, the concussions mingling
in one report. The mountains, indeed, gave back but a single echo.
Deerslayer dropped his piece, and stood with head erect, steady as one
of the pines in the calm of a June morning, watching the result; while
the savage gave the yell that has become historical for its appalling
influence, leaped through the bushes, and came bounding across the open
ground, flourishing a tomahawk. Still Deerslayer moved not, but stood
with his unloaded rifle fallen against his shoulders, while, with a
hunter's habits, his hands were mechanically feeling for the powder-horn
and charger. When about forty feet from his enemy, the savage hurled his
keen weapon; but it was with an eye so vacant, and a hand so unsteady
and feeble, that the young man caught it by the handle as it was flying
past him. At that instant the Indian staggered and fell his whole length
on the ground.
“I know'd it--I know'd it!” exclaimed Deerslayer, who was already
preparing to force a fresh bullet into his rifle; “I know'd it must come
to this, as soon as I had got the range from the creatur's eyes. A man
sights suddenly, and fires quick when his own life's in danger; yes, I
know'd it would come to this. I was about the hundredth part of a second
too quick for him, or it might have been bad for me! The riptyle's
bullet has just grazed my side--but say what you will for or ag'in 'em,
a red-skin is by no means as sartain with powder and ball as a white
man. Their gifts don't seem to lie that a way. Even Chingachgook, great
as he is in other matters, isn't downright deadly with the rifle.”
By this time the piece was reloaded, and Deerslayer, after tossing the
tomahawk into the canoe, advanced to his victim, and stood over him,
leaning on his rifle, in melancholy attention. It was the first
instance in which he had seen a man fall in battle--it was the first
fellow-creature against whom he had ever seriously raised his own hand.
The sensations were novel; and regret, with the freshness of our better
feelings, mingled with his triumph. The Indian was not dead, though shot
directly through the body. He lay on his back motionless, but his eyes,
now full of consciousness, watched each action of his victor--as the
fallen bird regards the fowler--jealous of every movement. The man
probably expected the fatal blow which was to precede the loss of his
scalp; or perhaps he anticipated that this latter act of cruelty
would precede his death. Deerslayer read his thoughts; and he found a
melancholy satisfaction in relieving the apprehensions of the helpless
savage.
“No, no, red-skin,” he said; “you've nothing more to fear from me. I am
of a Christian stock, and scalping is not of my gifts. I'll just make
sartain of your rifle, and then come back and do you what sarvice I can.
Though here I can't stay much longer, as the crack of three rifles will
be apt to bring some of your devils down upon me.”
The close of this was said in a sort of a soliloquy, as the young man
went in quest of the fallen rifle. The piece was found where its owner
had dropped it, and was immediately put into the canoe. Laying his own
rifle at its side, Deerslayer then returned and stood over the Indian
again.
“All inmity atween you and me's at an ind red-skin,” he said; “and you
may set your heart at rest on the score of the scalp, or any further
injury. My gifts are white, as I've told you; and I hope my conduct will
be white also.”
Could looks have conveyed all they meant, it is probable Deerslayer's
innocent vanity on the subject of color would have been rebuked a
little; but he comprehended the gratitude that was expressed in the eyes
of the dying savage, without in the least detecting the bitter sarcasm
that struggled with the better feeling.
“Water!” ejaculated the thirsty and unfortunate creature; “give poor
Injin water.”
“Ay, water you shall have, if you drink the lake dry. I'll just carry
you down to it that you may take your fill. This is the way, they
tell me, with all wounded people--water is their greatest comfort and
delight.”
So saying, Deerslayer raised the Indian in his arms, and carried him to
the lake. Here he first helped him to take an attitude in which he could
appease his burning thirst; after which he seated himself on a
stone, and took the head of his wounded adversary in his own lap, and
endeavored to soothe his anguish in the best manner he could.
“It would be sinful in me to tell you your time hadn't come, warrior,”
he commenced, “and therefore I'll not say it. You've passed the middle
age already, and, considerin' the sort of lives ye lead, your days have
been pretty well filled. The principal thing now, is to look forward
to what comes next. Neither red-skin nor pale-face, on the whole,
calculates much on sleepin' forever; but both expect to live in another
world. Each has his gifts, and will be judged by 'em, and I suppose
you've thought these matters over enough not to stand in need of sarmons
when the trial comes. You'll find your happy hunting-grounds, if you've
been a just Injin; if an onjust, you'll meet your desarts in another
way. I've my own idees about these things; but you're too old and
exper'enced to need any explanations from one as young as I.”
“Good!” ejaculated the Indian, whose voice retained its depth even as
life ebbed away; “young head--old wisdom!”
“It's sometimes a consolation, when the ind comes, to know that them
we've harmed, or tried to harm, forgive us. I suppose natur' seeks
this relief, by way of getting a pardon on 'arth; as we never can know
whether He pardons, who is all in all, till judgment itself comes. It's
soothing to know that any pardon at such times; and that, I conclude, is
the secret. Now, as for myself, I overlook altogether your designs ag'in
my life; first, because no harm came of 'em; next, because it's your
gifts, and natur', and trainin', and I ought not to have trusted you at
all; and, finally and chiefly, because I can bear no ill-will to a dying
man, whether heathen or Christian. So put your heart at ease, so far as
I'm consarned; you know best what other matters ought to trouble you, or
what ought to give you satisfaction in so trying a moment.”
It is probable that the Indian had some of the fearful glimpses of the
unknown state of being which God, in mercy, seems at times to afford
to all the human race; but they were necessarily in conformity with his
habits and prejudices. Like most of his people, and like too many of our
own, he thought more of dying in a way to gain applause among those
he left than to secure a better state of existence hereafter. While
Deerslayer was speaking, his mind was a little bewildered, though he
felt that the intention was good; and when he had done, a regret passed
over his spirit that none of his own tribe were present to witness his
stoicism, under extreme bodily suffering, and the firmness with which he
met his end. With the high innate courtesy that so often distinguishes
the Indian warrior before he becomes corrupted by too much intercourse
with the worst class of the white men, he endeavored to express his
thankfulness for the other's good intentions, and to let him understand
that they were appreciated.
“Good!” he repeated, for this was an English word much used by the
savages, “good! young head; young heart, too. Old heart tough; no shed
tear. Hear Indian when he die, and no want to lie--what he call him?”
“Deerslayer is the name I bear now, though the Delawares have said that
when I get back from this war-path, I shall have a more manly title,
provided I can 'arn one.”
“That good name for boy--poor name for warrior. He get better quick.
No fear there,”--the savage had strength sufficient, under the strong
excitement he felt, to raise a hand and tap the young man on his
breast,--“eye sartain--finger lightning--aim, death--great warrior soon.
No Deerslayer--Hawkeye--Hawkeye--Hawkeye. Shake hand.”
Deerslayer--or Hawkeye, as the youth was then first named, for in after
years he bore the appellation throughout all that region--Deerslayer
took the hand of the savage, whose last breath was drawn in that
attitude, gazing in admiration at the countenance of a stranger, who
had shown so much readiness, skill, and firmness, in a scene that was
equally trying and novel. When the reader remembers it is the highest
gratification an Indian can receive to see his enemy betray weakness,
he will be better able to appreciate the conduct which had extorted so
great a concession at such a moment.
“His spirit has fled!” said Deerslayer, in a suppressed, melancholy
voice. “Ah's me! Well, to this we must all come, sooner or later; and
he is happiest, let his skin be what color it may, who is best fitted to
meet it. Here lies the body of no doubt a brave warrior, and the soul
is already flying towards its heaven or hell, whether that be a happy
hunting ground, a place scant of game, regions of glory, according to
Moravian doctrine, or flames of fire! So it happens, too, as regards
other matters! Here have old Hutter and Hurry Harry got themselves into
difficulty, if they haven't got themselves into torment and death,
and all for a bounty that luck offers to me in what many would think a
lawful and suitable manner. But not a farthing of such money shall cross
my hand. White I was born, and white will I die; clinging to color to
the last, even though the King's majesty, his governors, and all his
councils, both at home and in the colonies, forget from what they come,
and where they hope to go, and all for a little advantage in warfare.
No, no, warrior, hand of mine shall never molest your scalp, and so your
soul may rest in peace on the p'int of making a decent appearance when
the body comes to join it, in your own land of spirits.”
Deerslayer arose as soon as he had spoken. Then he placed the body of
the dead man in a sitting posture, with its back against the little
rock, taking the necessary care to prevent it from falling or in any
way settling into an attitude that might be thought unseemly by
the sensitive, though wild notions of a savage. When this duty was
performed, the young man stood gazing at the grim countenance of his
fallen foe, in a sort of melancholy abstraction. As was his practice,
however, a habit gained by living so much alone in the forest, he then
began again to give utterance to his thoughts and feelings aloud.
“I didn't wish your life, red-skin,” he said “but you left me no choice
atween killing or being killed. Each party acted according to his
gifts, I suppose, and blame can light on neither. You were treacherous,
according to your natur' in war, and I was a little oversightful, as I'm
apt to be in trusting others. Well, this is my first battle with a human
mortal, though it's not likely to be the last. I have fou't most of
the creatur's of the forest, such as bears, wolves, painters, and
catamounts, but this is the beginning with the red-skins. If I was Injin
born, now, I might tell of this, or carry in the scalp, and boast of
the expl'ite afore the whole tribe; or, if my inimy had only been even
a bear, 'twould have been nat'ral and proper to let everybody know what
had happened; but I don't well see how I'm to let even Chingachgook into
this secret, so long as it can be done only by boasting with a white
tongue. And why should I wish to boast of it a'ter all? It's slaying a
human, although he was a savage; and how do I know that he was a just
Injin; and that he has not been taken away suddenly to anything but
happy hunting-grounds. When it's onsartain whether good or evil has
been done, the wisest way is not to be boastful--still, I should like
Chingachgook to know that I haven't discredited the Delawares, or my
training!”
Part of this was uttered aloud, while part was merely muttered between
the speaker's teeth; his more confident opinions enjoying the first
advantage, while his doubts were expressed in the latter mode. Soliloquy
and reflection received a startling interruption, however, by the sudden
appearance of a second Indian on the lake shore, a few hundred yards
from the point. This man, evidently another scout, who had probably been
drawn to the place by the reports of the rifles, broke out of the forest
with so little caution that Deerslayer caught a view of his person
before he was himself discovered. When the latter event did occur, as
was the case a moment later, the savage gave a loud yell, which was
answered by a dozen voices from different parts of the mountainside.
There was no longer any time for delay; in another minute the boat was
quitting the shore under long and steady sweeps of the paddle.
As soon as Deerslayer believed himself to be at a safe distance he
ceased his efforts, permitting the little bark to drift, while he
leisurely took a survey of the state of things. The canoe first sent
adrift was floating before the air, quite a quarter of a mile above him,
and a little nearer to the shore than he wished, now that he knew more
of the savages were so near at hand. The canoe shoved from the point was
within a few yards of him, he having directed his own course towards
it on quitting the land. The dead Indian lay in grim quiet where he had
left him, the warrior who had shown himself from the forest had already
vanished, and the woods themselves were as silent and seemingly deserted
as the day they came fresh from the hands of their great Creator. This
profound stillness, however, lasted but a moment. When time had been
given to the scouts of the enemy to reconnoitre, they burst out of the
thicket upon the naked point, filling the air with yells of fury at
discovering the death of their companion. These cries were immediately
succeeded by shouts of delight when they reached the body and clustered
eagerly around it. Deerslayer was a sufficient adept in the usages of
the natives to understand the reason of the change. The yell was the
customary lamentation at the loss of a warrior, the shout a sign of
rejoicing that the conqueror had not been able to secure the scalp;
the trophy, without which a victory is never considered complete. The
distance at which the canoes lay probably prevented any attempts to
injure the conqueror, the American Indian, like the panther of his own
woods, seldom making any effort against his foe unless tolerably certain
it is under circumstances that may be expected to prove effective.
As the young man had no longer any motive to remain near the point, he
prepared to collect his canoes, in order to tow them off to the castle.
That nearest was soon in tow, when he proceeded in quest of the other,
which was all this time floating up the lake. The eye of Deerslayer was
no sooner fastened on this last boat, than it struck him that it was
nearer to the shore than it would have been had it merely followed the
course of the gentle current of air. He began to suspect the influence
of some unseen current in the water, and he quickened his exertions, in
order to regain possession of it before it could drift into a dangerous
proximity to the woods. On getting nearer, he thought that the canoe had
a perceptible motion through the water, and, as it lay broadside to the
air, that this motion was taking it towards the land. A few vigorous
strokes of the paddle carried him still nearer, when the mystery was
explained. Something was evidently in motion on the off side of the
canoe, or that which was farthest from himself, and closer scrutiny
showed that it was a naked human arm. An Indian was lying in the bottom
of the canoe, and was propelling it slowly but certainly to the shore,
using his hand as a paddle. Deerslayer understood the whole artifice at
a glance. A savage had swum off to the boat while he was occupied with
his enemy on the point, got possession, and was using these means to
urge it to the shore.
Satisfied that the man in the canoe could have no arms, Deerslayer
did not hesitate to dash close alongside of the retiring boat, without
deeming it necessary to raise his own rifle. As soon as the wash of the
water, which he made in approaching, became audible to the prostrate
savage, the latter sprang to his feet, and uttered an exclamation that
proved how completely he was taken by surprise.
“If you've enj'yed yourself enough in that canoe, red-skin,” Deerslayer
coolly observed, stopping his own career in sufficient time to prevent
an absolute collision between the two boats,--“if you've enj'yed
yourself enough in that canoe, you'll do a prudent act by taking to the
lake ag'in. I'm reasonable in these matters, and don't crave your blood,
though there's them about that would look upon you more as a due-bill
for the bounty than a human mortal. Take to the lake this minute, afore
we get to hot words.”
The savage was one of those who did not understand a word of English,
and he was indebted to the gestures of Deerslayer, and to the expression
of an eye that did not often deceive, for an imperfect comprehension of
his meaning. Perhaps, too, the sight of the rifle that lay so near the
hand of the white man quickened his decision. At all events, he crouched
like a tiger about to take his leap, uttered a yell, and the next
instant his naked body disappeared in the water. When he rose to take
breath, it was at the distance of several yards from the canoe, and the
hasty glance he threw behind him denoted how much he feared the arrival
of a fatal messenger from the rifle of his foe. But the young man made
no indication of any hostile intention. Deliberately securing the canoe
to the others, he began to paddle from the shore; and by the time the
Indian reached the land, and had shaken himself, like a spaniel, on
quitting the water, his dreaded enemy was already beyond rifle-shot on
his way to the castle. As was so much his practice, Deerslayer did not
fail to soliloquize on what had just occurred, while steadily pursuing
his course towards the point of destination.
“Well, well,”--he commenced,--“'twould have been wrong to kill a human
mortal without an object. Scalps are of no account with me, and life
is sweet, and ought not to be taken marcilessly by them that have white
gifts. The savage was a Mingo, it's true; and I make no doubt he is, and
will be as long as he lives, a ra'al riptyle and vagabond; but that's no
reason I should forget my gifts and color. No, no,--let him go; if ever
we meet ag'in, rifle in hand, why then 'twill be seen which has the
stoutest heart and the quickest eye. Hawkeye! That's not a bad name
for a warrior, sounding much more manful and valiant than Deerslayer!
'Twouldn't be a bad title to begin with, and it has been fairly 'arned.
If 't was Chingachgook, now, he might go home and boast of his deeds,
and the chiefs would name him Hawkeye in a minute; but it don't become
white blood to brag, and 't isn't easy to see how the matter can
be known unless I do. Well, well,--everything is in the hands of
Providence; this affair as well as another; I'll trust to that for
getting my desarts in all things.”
Having thus betrayed what might be termed his weak spot, the young man
continued to paddle in silence, making his way diligently, and as fast
as his tows would allow him, towards the castle. By this time the sun
had not only risen, but it had appeared over the eastern mountains, and
was shedding a flood of glorious light on this as yet unchristened
sheet of water. The whole scene was radiant with beauty; and no one
unaccustomed to the ordinary history of the woods would fancy it had so
lately witnessed incidents so ruthless and barbarous. As he approached
the building of old Hutter, Deerslayer thought, or rather felt that
its appearance was in singular harmony with all the rest of the scene.
Although nothing had been consulted but strength and security, the rude,
massive logs, covered with their rough bark, the projecting roof, and
the form, would contribute to render the building picturesque in almost
any situation, while its actual position added novelty and piquancy to
its other points of interest.
When Deerslayer drew nearer to the castle, however, objects of interest
presented themselves that at once eclipsed any beauties that might have
distinguished the scenery of the lake, and the site of the singular
edifice. Judith and Hetty stood on the platform before the door, Hurry's
dooryard awaiting his approach with manifest anxiety; the former, from
time to time, taking a survey of his person and of the canoes through
the old ship's spyglass that has been already mentioned. Never probably
did this girl seem more brilliantly beautiful than at that moment; the
flush of anxiety and alarm increasing her color to its richest tints,
while the softness of her eyes, a charm that even poor Hetty shared with
her, was deepened by intense concern. Such, at least, without pausing
or pretending to analyze motives, or to draw any other very nice
distinction between cause and effect, were the opinions of the young man
as his canoes reached the side of the ark, where he carefully fastened
all three before he put his foot on the platform.