“Yet art thou prodigal of smiles--
Smiles, sweeter than thy frowns are stern:
Earth sends from all her thousand isles,
A shout at thy return.
The glory that comes down from thee
Bathes, in deep joy, the land and sea.”
Bryant, “The Firmament,” 11.19-24
It may assist the reader in understanding the events we are about to
record, if he has a rapidly sketched picture of the scene, placed before
his eyes at a single view. It will be remembered that the lake was an
irregularly shaped basin, of an outline that, in the main, was oval, but
with bays and points to relieve its formality and ornament its shores.
The surface of this beautiful sheet of water was now glittering like a
gem, in the last rays of the evening sun, and the setting of the whole,
hills clothed in the richest forest verdure, was lighted up with a sort
of radiant smile, that is best described in the beautiful lines we have
placed at the head of this chapter. As the banks, with few exceptions,
rose abruptly from the water, even where the mountain did not
immediately bound the view, there was a nearly unbroken fringe of leaves
overhanging the placid lake, the trees starting out of the acclivities,
inclining to the light, until, in many instances they extended their
long limbs and straight trunks some forty or fifty feet beyond the line
of the perpendicular. In these cases we allude only to the giants of the
forest, pines of a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet in height, for
of the smaller growth, very many inclined so far as to steep their lower
branches in the water. In the position in which the Ark had now got, the
castle was concealed from view by the projection of a point, as indeed
was the northern extremity of the lake itself. A respectable mountain,
forest clad, and rounded, like all the rest, limited the view in that
direction, stretching immediately across the whole of the fair
scene, with the exception of a deep bay that passed the western end,
lengthening the basin, for more than a mile.
The manner in which the water flowed out of the lake, beneath the leafy
arches of the trees that lined the sides of the stream, has already been
mentioned, and it has also been said that the rock, which was a favorite
place of rendezvous throughout all that region, and where Deerslayer
now expected to meet his friend, stood near this outlet, and at no great
distance from the shore. It was a large, isolated stone that rested on
the bottom of the lake, apparently left there when the waters tore away
the earth from around it, in forcing for themselves a passage down the
river, and which had obtained its shape from the action of the elements,
during the slow progress of centuries. The height of this rock could
scarcely equal six feet, and, as has been said, its shape was not unlike
that which is usually given to beehives, or to a hay-cock. The latter,
indeed, gives the best idea not only of its form, but of its dimensions.
It stood, and still stands, for we are writing of real scenes, within
fifty feet of the bank, and in water that was only two feet in depth,
though there were seasons in which its rounded apex, if such a term can
properly be used, was covered by the lake. Many of the trees stretched
so far forward, as almost to blend the rock with the shore, when seen
from a little distance, and one tall pine in particular overhung it in a
way to form a noble and appropriate canopy to a seat that had held many
a forest chieftain, during the long succession of unknown ages, in
which America, and all it contained, had existed apart, in mysterious
solitude, a world by itself; equally without a familiar history, and
without an origin that the annals of man can reach.
When distant some two or three hundred feet from the shore, Deerslayer
took in his sail. He dropped his grapnel, as soon as he found the Ark
had drifted in a line that was directly to windward of the rock. The
motion of the scow was then checked, when it was brought head to wind,
by the action of the breeze. As soon as this was done, Deerslayer “paid
out line,” and suffered the vessel to “set down” upon the rock, as fast
as the light air could force it to leeward. Floating entirely on the
surface, this was soon effected, and the young man checked the drift
when he was told that the stern of the scow was within fifteen or
eighteen feet of the desired spot.
In executing this maneuver, Deerslayer had proceeded promptly, for,
while he did not in the least doubt that he was both watched and
followed by the foe, he believed he distracted their movements, by the
apparent uncertainty of his own, and he knew they could have no means
of ascertaining that the rock was his aim, unless indeed one of their
prisoners had betrayed him; a chance so improbable in itself, as to give
him no concern. Notwithstanding the celerity and decision his movements,
he did not, however, venture so near the shore without taking due
precautions to effect a retreat, in the event of its becoming necessary.
He held the line in his hand, and Judith was stationed at a loop, on the
side of the cabin next the shore, where she could watch the beach and
the rock, and give timely notice of the approach of either friend
or foe. Hetty was also placed on watch, but it was to keep the trees
overhead in view, lest some enemy might ascend one, and, by completely
commanding the interior of the scow render the defence of the hut, or
cabin, useless.
The sun had disappeared from the lake and valley, when Deerslayer
checked the Ark, in the manner mentioned. Still it wanted a few
minutes to the true sunset, and he knew Indian punctuality too well
to anticipate any unmanly haste in his friend. The great question was,
whether, surrounded by enemies as he was known to be, he had escaped
their toils. The occurrences of the last twenty-four hours must be a
secret to him, and like himself, Chingachgook was yet young on a path.
It was true, he came prepared to encounter the party that withheld
his promised bride, but he had no means ascertaining the extent of the
danger he ran, or the precise positions occupied by either friends, or
foes. In a word, the trained sagacity, and untiring caution of an Indian
were all he had to rely on, amid the critical risks he unavoidably ran.
“Is the rock empty, Judith?” inquired Deerslayer, as soon as he
had checked the drift of the Ark, deeming it imprudent to venture
unnecessarily near the shore. “Is any thing to be seen of the Delaware
chief?”
“Nothing, Deerslayer. Neither rock, shore, trees, nor lake seems to have
ever held a human form.”
'Keep close, Judith--keep close, Hetty--a rifle has a prying eye, a
nimble foot, and a desperate fatal tongue. Keep close then, but keep up
actyve looks, and be on the alart. 'Twould grieve me to the heart, did
any harm befall either of you.'
“And you Deerslayer--” exclaimed Judith, turning her handsome face from
the loop, to bestow a gracious and grateful look on the young man--“do
you 'keep close', and have a proper care that the savages do not catch
a glimpse of you! A bullet might be as fatal to you as to one of us; and
the blow that you felt, would be felt by us all.”
“No fear of me, Judith--no fear of me, my good gal. Do not look
this-a-way, although you look so pleasant and comely, but keep your eyes
on the rock, and the shore, and the--”
Deerslayer was interrupted by a slight exclamation from the girl, who,
in obedience to his hurried gestures, as much as in obedience to his
words, had immediately bent her looks again, in the opposite direction.
“What is't?--What is't, Judith?” he hastily demanded--“Is any thing to
be seen?”
“There is a man on the rock!--An Indian warrior, in his paint--and
armed!”
“Where does he wear his hawk's feather?” eagerly added Deerslayer,
relaxing his hold of the line, in readiness to drift nearer to the place
of rendezvous. “Is it fast to the war-lock, or does he carry it above
the left ear?”
“'Tis as you say, above the left ear; he smiles, too, and mutters the
word 'Mohican.'”
“God be praised, 'tis the Sarpent, at last!” exclaimed the young man,
suffering the line to slip through his hands, until hearing a light
bound, in the other end of the craft, he instantly checked the rope,
and began to haul it in, again, under the assurance that his object was
effected. At that moment the door of the cabin was opened hastily, and,
a warrior, darting through the little room, stood at Deerslayer's side,
simply uttering the exclamation “Hugh!” At the next instant, Judith and
Hetty shrieked, and the air was filled with the yell of twenty savages,
who came leaping through the branches, down the bank, some actually
falling headlong into the water, in their haste.
“Pull, Deerslayer,” cried Judith, hastily barring the door, in order
to prevent an inroad by the passage through which the Delaware had just
entered; “pull, for life and death--the lake is full of savages, wading
after us!”
The young men--for Chingachgook immediately came to his friend's
assistance--needed no second bidding, but they applied themselves to
their task in a way that showed how urgent they deemed the occasion. The
great difficulty was in suddenly overcoming the inertia of so large
a mass, for once in motion, it was easy to cause the scow to skim the
water with all the necessary speed.
“Pull, Deerslayer, for Heaven's sake!” cried Judith, again at the loop.
“These wretches rush into the water like hounds following their prey!
Ah--the scow moves! and now, the water deepens, to the arm-pits of the
foremost, but they reach forward, and will seize the Ark!”
A slight scream, and then a joyous laugh followed from the girl; the
first produced by a desperate effort of their pursuers, and the last by
its failure; the scow, which had now got fairly in motion gliding ahead
into deep water, with a velocity that set the designs of their enemies
at nought. As the two men were prevented by the position of the cabin
from seeing what passed astern, they were compelled to inquire of the
girls into the state of the chase.
“What now, Judith?--What next?--Do the Mingos still follow, or are we
quit of 'em, for the present,” demanded Deerslayer, when he felt the
rope yielding as if the scow was going fast ahead, and heard the scream
and the laugh of the girl, almost in the same breath.
“They have vanished!--One--the last--is just burying himself in the
bushes of the bank--There, he has disappeared in the shadows of the
trees! You have got your friend, and we are all safe!”
The two men now made another great effort, pulled the Ark up swiftly to
the grapnel, tripped it, and when the scow had shot some distance and
lost its way, they let the anchor drop again. Then, for the first time
since their meeting, they ceased their efforts. As the floating house
now lay several hundred feet from the shore, and offered a complete
protection against bullets, there was no longer any danger or any motive
for immediate exertion.
The manner in which the two friends now recognized each other, was
highly characteristic. Chingachgook, a noble, tall, handsome and
athletic young Indian warrior, first examined his rifle with care,
opening the pan to make sure that the priming was not wet, and, assured
of this important fact, he next cast furtive but observant glances
around him, at the strange habitation and at the two girls. Still he
spoke not, and most of all did he avoid the betrayal of a womanish
curiosity, by asking questions.
“Judith and Hetty” said Deerslayer, with an untaught, natural
courtesy--“this is the Mohican chief of whom you've heard me speak;
Chingachgook as he is called; which signifies Big Sarpent; so named for
his wisdom and prudence, and cunning, and my 'arliest and latest fri'nd.
I know'd it must be he, by the hawk's feather over the left ear, most
other warriors wearing 'em on the war-lock.”
As Deerslayer ceased speaking, he laughed heartily, excited more
perhaps by the delight of having got his friend safe at his side, under
circumstances so trying, than by any conceit that happened to cross his
fancy, and exhibiting this outbreaking of feeling in a manner that was a
little remarkable, since his merriment was not accompanied by any
noise. Although Chingachgook both understood and spoke English, he was
unwilling to communicate his thoughts in it, like most Indians, and
when he had met Judith's cordial shake of the hand, and Hetty's milder
salute, in the courteous manner that became a chief, he turned away,
apparently to await the moment when it might suit his friend to enter
into an explanation of his future intentions, and to give a narrative
of what had passed since their separation. The other understood his
meaning, and discovered his own mode of reasoning in the matter, by
addressing the girls.
“This wind will soon die away altogether, now the sun is down,” he said,
“and there is no need for rowing ag'in it. In half an hour, or so, it
will either be a flat calm, or the air will come off from the south
shore, when we will begin our journey back ag'in to the castle; in the
meanwhile, the Delaware and I will talk over matters, and get correct
idees of each other's notions consarning the course we ought to take.”
No one opposed this proposition, and the girls withdrew into the cabin
to prepare the evening meal, while the two young men took their seats
on the head of the scow and began to converse. The dialogue was in
the language of the Delawares. As that dialect, however, is but little
understood, even by the learned; we shall not only on this, but on all
subsequent occasions render such parts as it may be necessary to give
closely, into liberal English; preserving, as far as possible, the idiom
and peculiarities of the respective speakers, by way of presenting the
pictures in the most graphic forms to the minds of the readers.
It is unnecessary to enter into the details first related by Deerslayer,
who gave a brief narrative of the facts that are already familiar to
those who have read our pages. In relating these events, however, it
may be well to say that the speaker touched only on the outlines, more
particularly abstaining from saying anything about his encounter with,
and victory over the Iroquois, as well as to his own exertions in behalf
of the two deserted young women. When Deerslayer ended, the Delaware
took up the narrative, in turn, speaking sententiously and with grave
dignity. His account was both clear and short, nor was it embellished by
any incidents that did not directly concern the history of his departure
from the villages of his people, and his arrival in the valley of the
Susquehannah. On reaching the latter, which was at a point only half
a mile south of the outlet, he had soon struck a trail, which gave him
notice of the probable vicinity of enemies. Being prepared for such an
occurrence, the object of the expedition calling him directly into
the neighborhood of the party of Iroquois that was known to be out, he
considered the discovery as fortunate, rather than the reverse, and took
the usual precautions to turn it to account. First following the river
to its source, and ascertaining the position of the rock, he met another
trail, and had actually been hovering for hours on the flanks of his
enemies, watching equally for an opportunity to meet his mistress,
and to take a scalp; and it may be questioned which he most ardently
desired. He kept near the lake, and occasionally he ventured to some
spot where he could get a view of what was passing on its surface. The
Ark had been seen and watched, from the moment it hove in sight,
though the young chief was necessarily ignorant that it was to be the
instrument of his effecting the desired junction with his friend. The
uncertainty of its movements, and the fact that it was unquestionably
managed by white men, soon led him to conjecture the truth, however,
and he held himself in readiness to get on board whenever a suitable
occasion might offer. As the sun drew near the horizon he repaired
to the rock, where, on emerging from the forest, he was gratified in
finding the Ark lying, apparently in readiness to receive him. The
manner of his appearance, and of his entrance into the craft is known.
Although Chingachgook had been closely watching his enemies for hours,
their sudden and close pursuit as he reached the scow was as much a
matter of surprise to himself, as it had been to his friend. He could
only account for it by the fact of their being more numerous than he had
at first supposed, and by their having out parties of the existence of
which he was ignorant. Their regular, and permanent encampment, if the
word permanent can be applied to the residence of a party that intended
to remain out, in all probability, but a few weeks, was not far from
the spot where Hutter and Hurry had fallen into their hands, and, as a
matter of course, near a spring.
“Well, Sarpent,” asked Deerslayer, when the other had ended his brief
but spirited narrative, speaking always in the Delaware tongue, which
for the reader's convenience only we render into the peculiar vernacular
of the speaker--“Well, Sarpent, as you've been scouting around these
Mingos, have you anything to tell us of their captyves, the father of
these young women, and of another, who, I somewhat conclude, is the
lovyer of one of 'em.”
“Chingachgook has seen them. An old man, and a young warrior--the
falling hemlock and the tall pine.”
“You're not so much out, Delaware; you're not so much out. Old Hutter is
decaying, of a sartainty, though many solid blocks might be hewn out of
his trunk yet, and, as for Hurry Harry, so far as height and strength
and comeliness go, he may be called the pride of the human forest. Were
the men bound, or in any manner suffering torture? I ask on account of
the young women, who, I dare to say, would be glad to know.”
“It is not so, Deerslayer. The Mingos are too many to cage their game.
Some watch; some sleep; some scout; some hunt. The pale-faces are
treated like brothers to-day; to-morrow they will lose their scalps.”
“Yes, that's red natur', and must be submitted to! Judith and Hetty,
here's comforting tidings for you, the Delaware telling me that neither
your father nor Hurry Harry is in suffering, but, bating the loss of
liberty, as well off as we are ourselves. Of course they are kept in the
camp; otherwise they do much as they please.”
“I rejoice to hear this, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “and now we are
joined by your friend, I make no manner of question that we shall find
an opportunity to ransom the prisoners. If there are any women in the
camp, I have articles of dress that will catch their eyes, and, should
the worst come to the worst, we can open the great chest, which I think
will be found to hold things that may tempt the chiefs.”
“Judith,” said the young man, looking up at her with a smile and an
expression of earnest curiosity, that in spite of the growing obscurity
did not escape the watchful looks of the girl, “can you find it in your
heart, to part with your own finery, to release prisoners; even though
one be your own father, and the other is your sworn suitor and lovyer?”
The flush on the face of the girl arose in part from resentment,
but more perhaps from a gentler and a novel feeling, that, with the
capricious waywardness of taste, had been rapidly rendering her more
sensitive to the good opinion of the youth who questioned her, than
to that of any other person. Suppressing the angry sensation, with
instinctive quickness, she answered with a readiness and truth, that
caused her sister to draw near to listen, though the obtuse intellect
of the latter was far from comprehending the workings of a heart as
treacherous, as uncertain, and as impetuous in its feelings, as that of
the spoiled and flattered beauty.
“Deerslayer,” answered Judith, after a moment's pause, “I shall be
honest with you. I confess that the time has been when what you call
finery, was to me the dearest thing on earth; but I begin to feel
differently. Though Hurry Harry is nought to me nor ever can be, I
would give all I own to set him free. If I would do this for blustering,
bullying, talking Hurry, who has nothing but good looks to recommend
him, you may judge what I would do for my own father.”
“This sounds well, and is according to woman's gifts. Ah's, me! The same
feelin's is to be found among the young women of the Delawares. I've
known 'em, often and often, sacrifice their vanity to their hearts. 'Tis
as it should be--'tis as it should be I suppose, in both colours. Woman
was created for the feelin's, and is pretty much ruled by feelin'.”
“Would the savages let father go, if Judith and I give them all our best
things?” demanded Hetty, in her innocent, mild, manner.
“Their women might interfere, good Hetty; yes, their women might
interfere with such an ind in view. But, tell me, Sarpent, how is it
as to squaws among the knaves; have they many of their own women in the
camp?”
The Delaware heard and understood all that passed, though with Indian
gravity and finesse he had sat with averted face, seemingly inattentive
to a discourse in which he had no direct concern. Thus appealed to,
however, he answered his friend in his ordinary sententious manner.
“Six--” he said, holding up all the fingers of one hand, and the thumb
of the other, “besides this.” The last number denoted his betrothed,
whom, with the poetry and truth of nature, he described by laying his
hand on his own heart.
“Did you see her, chief--did you get a glimpse of her pleasant
countenance, or come close enough to her ear, to sing in it the song she
loves to hear?”
“No, Deerslayer--the trees were too many, and leaves covered their
boughs like clouds hiding the heavens in a storm. But”--and the young
warrior turned his dark face towards his friend, with a smile on it that
illuminated its fierce-looking paint and naturally stern lineaments
with a bright gleam of human feeling, “Chingachgook heard the laugh of
Wah-ta-Wah, and knew it from the laugh of the women of the Iroquois. It
sounded in his ears, like the chirp of the wren.”
“Ay, trust a lovyer's ear for that, and a Delaware's ear for all sounds
that are ever heard in the woods. I know not why it is so, Judith, but
when young men--and I dares to say it may be all the same with young
women, too--but when they get to have kind feelin's towards each other,
it's wonderful how pleasant the laugh, or the speech becomes, to the
other person. I've seen grim warriors listening to the chattering and
the laughing of young gals, as if it was church music, such as is heard
in the old Dutch church that stands in the great street of Albany, where
I've been, more than once, with peltry and game.”
“And you, Deerslayer,” said Judith quickly, and with more sensibility
than marked her usually light and thoughtless manner,--“have you never
felt how pleasant it is to listen to the laugh of the girl you love?”
“Lord bless you gal!--Why I've never lived enough among my own colour
to drop into them sort of feelin's,--no never! I dares to say, they are
nat'ral and right, but to me there's no music so sweet as the sighing
of the wind in the tree tops, and the rippling of a stream from a full,
sparkling, natyve fountain of pure forest water--unless, indeed,”
he continued, dropping his head for an instant in a thoughtful
manner--“unless indeed it be the open mouth of a sartain hound, when
I'm on the track of a fat buck. As for unsartain dogs, I care little for
their cries, seein' they are as likely to speak when the deer is not in
sight, as when it is.”
Judith walked slowly and pensively away, nor was there any of her
ordinary calculating coquetry in the light tremulous sigh that,
unconsciously to herself, arose to her lips. On the other hand Hetty
listened with guileless attention, though it struck her simple mind as
singular that the young man should prefer the melody of the woods,
to the songs of girls, or even to the laugh of innocence and joy.
Accustomed, however, to defer in most things to her sister, she soon
followed Judith into the cabin, where she took a seat and remained
pondering intensely over some occurrence, or resolution, or
opinion--which was a secret to all but herself. Left alone, Deerslayer
and his friend resumed their discourse.
“Has the young pale-face hunter been long on this lake?” demanded the
Delaware, after courteously waiting for the other to speak first.
“Only since yesterday noon, Sarpent, though that has been long enough to
see and do much.” The gaze that the Indian fastened on his companion was
so keen that it seemed to mock the gathering darkness of the night.
As the other furtively returned his look, he saw the two black eyes
glistening on him, like the balls of the panther, or those of the penned
wolf. He understood the meaning of this glowing gaze, and answered
evasively, as he fancied would best become the modesty of a white man's
gifts.
“'Tis as you suspect, Sarpent; yes, 'tis somewhat that-a-way. I have
fell in with the inimy, and I suppose it may be said I've fou't them,
too.”
An exclamation of delight and exultation escaped the Indian, and then
laying his hand eagerly on the arm of his friend, he asked if there were
any scalps taken.
“That I will maintain in the face of all the Delaware tribe, old
Tamenund, and your own father the great Uncas, as well as the rest, is
ag'in white gifts! My scalp is on my head, as you can see, Sarpent, and
that was the only scalp that was in danger, when one side was altogether
Christian and white.”
“Did no warrior fall?--Deerslayer did not get his name by being slow of
sight, or clumsy with the rifle!”
“In that particular, chief, you're nearer reason, and therefore nearer
being right. I may say one Mingo fell.”
“A chief!” demanded the other with startling vehemence.
“Nay, that's more than I know, or can say. He was artful, and
treacherous, and stout-hearted, and may well have gained popularity
enough with his people to be named to that rank. The man fou't well,
though his eye was'n't quick enough for one who had had his schooling in
your company, Delaware.”
“My brother and friend struck the body?”
“That was uncalled for, seeing that the Mingo died in my arms. The truth
may as well be said, at once; he fou't like a man of red gifts, and I
fou't like a man with gifts of my own colour. God gave me the victory;
I coul'n't fly in the face of his Providence by forgetting my birth and
natur'. White he made me, and white I shall live and die.”
“Good! Deerslayer is a pale-face, and has pale-face hands. A Delaware
will look for the scalp, and hang it on a pole, and sing a song in his
honour, when we go back to our people. The glory belongs to the tribe;
it must not be lost.”
“This is easy talking, but 'twill not be as easy doing. The Mingo's body
is in the hands of his fri'nds and, no doubt, is hid in some hole where
Delaware cunning will never be able to get at the scalp.”
The young man then gave his friend a succinct, but clear account, of the
event of the morning, concealing nothing of any moment, and yet touching
on every thing modestly and with a careful attention to avoid the Indian
habit of boasting. Chingachgook again expressed his satisfaction at the
honour won by his friend, and then both arose, the hour having arrived
when it became prudent to move the Ark further from the land.
It was now quite dark, the heavens having become clouded, and the stars
hid. The north wind had ceased--as was usual with the setting of the
sun, and a light air arose from the south. This change favoring the
design of Deerslayer, he lifted his grapnel, and the scow immediately
and quite perceptibly began to drift more into the lake. The sail was
set, when the motion of the craft increased to a rate not much less than
two miles in the hour. As this superseded the necessity of rowing, an
occupation that an Indian would not be likely to desire, Deerslayer,
Chingachgook and Judith seated themselves in the stern of the scow,
where they first governed its movements by holding the oar. Here they
discoursed on their future movements, and on the means that ought to be
used in order to effect the liberation of their friends.
In this dialogue Judith held a material part, the Delaware readily
understanding all she said, while his own replies and remarks, both of
which were few and pithy, were occasionally rendered into English by his
friend. Judith rose greatly in the estimation of her companions, in the
half hour that followed. Prompt of resolution and firm of purpose, her
suggestions and expedients partook of her spirit and sagacity, both of
which were of a character to find favor with men of the frontier. The
events that had occurred since their meeting, as well as her isolated
and dependant situation, induced the girl to feel towards Deerslayer
like the friend of a year instead of an acquaintance of a day, and so
completely had she been won by his guileless truth of character and of
feeling, pure novelties in our sex, as respected her own experience,
that his peculiarities excited her curiosity, and created a confidence
that had never been awakened by any other man. Hitherto she had been
compelled to stand on the defensive in her intercourse with men, with
what success was best known to herself, but here had she been suddenly
thrown into the society and under the protection of a youth, who
evidently as little contemplated evil towards herself as if he had been
her brother. The freshness of his integrity, the poetry and truth of his
feelings, and even the quaintness of his forms of speech, all had their
influence, and aided in awakening an interest that she found as pure
as it was sudden and deep. Hurry's fine face and manly form had never
compensated for his boisterous and vulgar tone, and her intercourse with
the officers had prepared her to make comparisons under which even his
great natural advantages suffered. But this very intercourse with the
officers who occasionally came upon the lake to fish and hunt, had an
effect in producing her present sentiments towards the young stranger.
With them, while her vanity had been gratified, and her self-love
strongly awakened, she had many causes deeply to regret the
acquaintance--if not to mourn over it, in secret sorrow--for it was
impossible for one of her quick intellect not to perceive how hollow was
the association between superior and inferior, and that she was regarded
as the play thing of an idle hour, rather than as an equal and a friend,
by even the best intentioned and least designing of her scarlet-clad
admirers. Deerslayer, on the other hand, had a window in his breast
through which the light of his honesty was ever shining; and even his
indifference to charms that so rarely failed to produce a sensation,
piqued the pride of the girl, and gave him an interest that another,
seemingly more favored by nature, might have failed to excite.
In this manner half an hour passed, during which time the Ark had been
slowly stealing over the water, the darkness thickening around it;
though it was easy to see that the gloom of the forest at the southern
end of the lake was getting to be distant, while the mountains that
lined the sides of the beautiful basin were overshadowing it, nearly
from side to side. There was, indeed, a narrow stripe of water, in the
centre of the lake where the dim light that was still shed from the
heavens, fell upon its surface in a line extending north and south;
and along this faint track, a sort of inverted milky way, in which the
obscurity was not quite as dense as in other places, the scow held her
course, he who steered well knowing that it led in the direction he
wished to go. The reader is not to suppose, however, that any difficulty
could exist as to the course. This would have been determined by that of
the air, had it not been possible to distinguish the mountains, as well
as by the dim opening to the south, which marked the position of the
valley in that quarter, above the plain of tall trees, by a sort of
lessened obscurity; the difference between the darkness of the forest,
and that of the night, as seen only in the air. The peculiarities
at length caught the attention of Judith and the Deerslayer, and the
conversation ceased, to allow each to gaze at the solemn stillness and
deep repose of nature.
“'Tis a gloomy night--” observed the girl, after a pause of several
minutes--“I hope we may be able to find the castle.”
“Little fear of our missing that, if we keep this path in the middle of
the lake,” returned the young man. “Natur' has made us a road here, and,
dim as it is, there'll be little difficulty following it.”
“Do you hear nothing, Deerslayer?--It seemed as if the water was
stirring quite near us!”
“Sartainly something did move the water, oncommon like; must have been
a fish. Them creatur's prey upon each other like men and animals on the
land; one has leaped into the air and fallen hard, back into his own
element. 'Tis of little use Judith, for any to strive to get out of
their elements, since it's natur' to stay in 'em, and natur' will have
its way. Ha! That sounds like a paddle, used with more than common
caution!”
At this moment the Delaware bent forward and pointed significantly into
the boundary of gloom, as if some object had suddenly caught his eye.
Both Deerslayer and Judith followed the direction of his gesture, and
each got a view of a canoe at the same instant. The glimpse of this
startling neighbor was dim, and to eyes less practised it might have
been uncertain, though to those in the Ark the object was evidently
a canoe with a single individual in it; the latter standing erect and
paddling. How many lay concealed in its bottom, of course could not be
known. Flight, by means of oars, from a bark canoe impelled by vigorous
and skilful hands, was utterly impracticable, and each of the men seized
his rifle in expectation of a conflict.
“I can easily bring down the paddler,” whispered Deerslayer, “but
we'll first hail him, and ask his arrn'd.” Then raising his voice, he
continued in a solemn manner--“hold! If ye come nearer, I must fire,
though contrary to my wishes, and then sartain death will follow. Stop
paddling, and answer.”
“Fire, and slay a poor defenseless girl,” returned a soft tremulous
female voice. “And God will never forgive you! Go your way, Deerslayer,
and let me go mine.”
“Hetty!” exclaimed the young man and Judith in a breath; and the former
sprang instantly to the spot where he had left the canoe they had been
towing. It was gone, and he understood the whole affair. As for the
fugitive, frightened at the menace she ceased paddling, and remained
dimly visible, resembling a spectral outline of a human form, standing
on the water. At the next moment the sail was lowered, to prevent the
Ark from passing the spot where the canoe lay. This last expedient,
however, was not taken in time, for the momentum of so heavy a craft,
and the impulsion of the air, soon set her by, bringing Hetty directly
to windward, though still visible, as the change in the positions of
the two boats now placed her in that species of milky way which has been
mentioned.
“What can this mean, Judith?” demanded Deerslayer--“Why has your sister
taken the canoe, and left us?”
“You know she is feeble-minded, poor girl!--and she has her own ideas of
what ought to be done. She loves her father more than most children love
their parents--and--then--”
“Then, what, gal? This is a trying moment; one in which truth must be
spoken!”
Judith felt a generous and womanly regret at betraying her sister, and
she hesitated ere she spoke again. But once more urged by Deerslayer,
and conscious herself of all the risks the whole party was running by
the indiscretion of Hetty, she could refrain no longer.
“Then, I fear, poor, weak-minded Hetty has not been altogether able
to see all the vanity, and rudeness and folly, that lie hid behind the
handsome face and fine form of Hurry Harry. She talks of him in her
sleep, and sometimes betrays the inclination in her waking moments.”
“You think, Judith, that your sister is now bent on some mad scheme to
serve her father and Hurry, which will, in all likelihood, give them
riptyles the Mingos, the mastership of a canoe?”
“Such, I fear, will turn out to be the fact, Deerslayer. Poor Hetty has
hardly sufficient cunning to outwit a savage.”
All this while the canoe, with the form of Hetty erect in one end of it,
was dimly perceptible, though the greater drift of the Ark rendered it,
at each instant, less and less distinct. It was evident no time was to
be lost, lest it should altogether disappear. The rifles were now laid
aside as useless, the two men seizing the oars and sweeping the head of
the scow round in the direction of the canoe. Judith, accustomed to the
office, flew to the other end of the Ark, and placed herself at what
might be called the helm. Hetty took the alarm at these preparations,
which could not be made without noise, and started off like a bird that
had been suddenly put up by the approach of unexpected danger.
As Deerslayer and his companion rowed with the energy of those who
felt the necessity of straining every nerve, and Hetty's strength was
impaired by a nervous desire to escape, the chase would have quickly
terminated in the capture of the fugitive, had not the girl made several
short and unlooked-for deviations in her course. These turnings gave her
time, and they had also the effect of gradually bringing both canoe and
Ark within the deeper gloom, cast by the shadows from the hills. They
also gradually increased the distance between the fugitive and her
pursuers, until Judith called out to her companions to cease rowing, for
she had completely lost sight of the canoe.
When this mortifying announcement was made, Hetty was actually so near
as to understand every syllable her sister uttered, though the latter
had used the precaution of speaking as low as circumstances would allow
her to do, and to make herself heard. Hetty stopped paddling at the same
moment, and waited the result with an impatience that was breathless,
equally from her late exertions, and her desire to land. A dead silence
immediately fell on the lake, during which the three in the Ark were
using their senses differently, in order to detect the position of the
canoe. Judith bent forward to listen, in the hope of catching some sound
that might betray the direction in which her sister was stealing away,
while her two companions brought their eyes as near as possible to
a level with the water, in order to detect any object that might be
floating on its surface. All was vain, however, for neither sound nor
sight rewarded their efforts. All this time Hetty, who had not the
cunning to sink into the canoe, stood erect, a finger pressed on her
lips, gazing in the direction in which the voices had last been heard,
resembling a statue of profound and timid attention. Her ingenuity had
barely sufficed to enable her to seize the canoe and to quit the Ark,
in the noiseless manner related, and then it appeared to be momentarily
exhausted. Even the doublings of the canoe had been as much the
consequence of an uncertain hand and of nervous agitation, as of any
craftiness or calculation.
The pause continued several minutes, during which Deerslayer and the
Delaware conferred together in the language of the latter. Then the oars
dipped, again, and the Ark moved away, rowing with as little noise as
possible. It steered westward, a little southerly, or in the direction
of the encampment of the enemy. Having reached a point at no great
distance from the shore, and where the obscurity was intense on account
of the proximity of the land, it lay there near an hour, in waiting for
the expected approach of Hetty, who, it was thought, would make the best
of her way to that spot as soon as she believed herself released
from the danger of pursuit. No success rewarded this little blockade,
however, neither appearance nor sound denoting the passage of the canoe.
Disappointed at this failure, and conscious of the importance of getting
possession of the fortress before it could be seized by the enemy,
Deerslayer now took his way towards the castle, with the apprehension
that all his foresight in securing the canoes would be defeated by this
unguarded and alarming movement on the part of the feeble-minded Hetty.