CHAPTER XVI

“Watch (aside).

Some treason, masters--

Yet stand close.”

--Much Ado About Nothing.

It was fortunate for more than one of the bacchanalians who left the

“Bold Dragoon” late in the evening that the severe cold of the season

was becoming rapidly less dangerous as they threaded the different mazes

through the snow-banks that led to their respective dwellings. Then

driving clouds began toward morning to flit across the heavens, and the

moon set behind a volume of vapor that was impelled furiously toward the

north, carrying with it the softer atmosphere from the distant ocean.

The rising sun was obscured by denser and increasing columns of

clouds, while the southerly wind that rushed up the valley brought the

never-failing symptoms of a thaw.

It was quite late in the morning before Elizabeth, observing the faint

glow which appeared on the eastern mountain long after the light of the

sun had struck the opposite hills, ventured from the house, with a view

to gratify her curiosity with a glance by daylight at the surrounding

objects before the tardy revellers of the Christmas eve should make

their appearance at the breakfast-table. While she was drawing the folds

of her pelisse more closely around her form, to guard against a cold

that was yet great though rapidly yielding, in the small inclosure that

opened in the rear of the house on a little thicket of low pines that

were springing up where trees of a mightier growth had lately stood, she

was surprised at the voice of Mr. Jones.

“Merry Christmas, merry Christmas to you, Cousin Bess,” he shouted. “Ah,

ha! an early riser, I see; but I knew I should steal a march on you. I

never was in a house yet where I didn't get the first Christmas greeting

on every soul in it, man, woman, and child--great and small--black,

white, and yellow. But stop a minute till I can just slip on my coat.

You are about to look at the improvements, I see, which no one can

explain so well as I, who planned them all. It will be an hour

before 'Duke and the Major can sleep off Mrs. Hollister's confounded

distillations, and so I'll come down and go with you.”

Elizabeth turned and observed her cousin in his night cap, with his head

out of his bedroom window, where his zeal for pre-eminence, in defiance

of the weather, had impelled him to thrust it. She laughed, and

promising to wait for his company re-entered the house, making her

appearance again, holding in her hand a packet that was secured by

several large and important seals, just in time to meet the gentleman.

“Come, Bessy, come,” he cried, drawing one of her arms through his own;

“the snow begins to give, but it will bear us yet. Don't you snuff

old Pennsylvania in the very air? This is a vile climate, girl; now at

sunset, last evening, it was cold enough to freeze a man's zeal, and

that, I can tell you, takes a thermometer near zero for me; then about

nine or ten it began to moderate; at twelve it was quite mild, and here

all the rest of the night I have been so hot as not to bear a blanket on

the bed.--Holla! Aggy--merry Christmas, Aggy--I say, do you hear me, you

black dog! there's a dollar for you; and if the gentle men get up before

I come back, do you come out and let me know. I wouldn't have 'Duke get

the start of me for the worth of your head.”

The black caught the money from the snow, and promising a due degree of

watchfulness, he gave the dollar a whirl of twenty feet in the air,

and catching it as it fell in the palm of his hand, he withdrew to the

kitchen, to exhibit his present, with a heart as light as his face was

happy in its expression.

“Oh, rest easy, my dear coz,” said the young lady; “I took a look in at

my father, who is likely to sleep an hour; and by using due vigilance

you will secure all the honors of the season.”

“Why, Duke is your father, Elizabeth; but 'Duke is a man who likes to

be foremost, even in trifles. Now, as for myself, I care for no such

things, except in the way of competition; for a thing which is of no

moment in itself may be made of importance in the way of competition. So

it is with your father--he loves to be first; but I only; struggle with

him as a competitor.”

“It's all very clear, sir,” said Elizabeth; “you would not care a fig

for distinction if there were no one in the world but yourself; but as

there happens to be a great many others, why, you must struggle with

them all--in the way of competition.”

“Exactly so; I see you are a clever girl, Bess, and one who does credit

to her masters. It was my plan to send you to that school; for when your

father first mentioned the thing, I wrote a private letter for advice to

a judicious friend in the city, who recommended the very school you went

to. 'Duke was a little obstinate at first, as usual, but when he heard

the truth he was obliged to send you.”

“Well, a truce to 'Duke's foibles, sir; he is my father, and if you knew

what he has been doing for you while we were in Albany, you would deal

more tenderly with his character.”

“For me!” cried Richard, pausing a moment in his walk to reflect. “Oh!

he got the plans of the new Dutch meeting-house for me, I suppose; but

I care very little about it, for a man of a certain kind of talent

is seldom aided by any foreign suggestions; his own brain is the best

architect.”

“No such thing,” said Elizabeth, looking provokingly knowing.

“No! let me see--perhaps he had my name put in the bill for the new

turnpike, as a director.”

“He might possibly; but it is not to such an appointment that I allude.”

“Such an appointment!” repeated Mr. Jones, who began to fidget with

curiosity; “then it is an appointment. If it is in the militia, I won't

take it.

“No, no, it is not in the militia,” cried Elizabeth, showing the packet

in her hand, and then drawing it back with a coquettish air; “it is an

office of both honor and emolument.”

“Honor and emolument!” echoed Richard, in painful suspense; “show me the

paper, girl. Say, is it an office where there is anything to do?”

“You have hit it, Cousin Dickon; it is the executive office of the

county; at least so said my father when he gave me this packet to offer

you as a Christmas-box. Surely, if anything will please Dickon,' he

said, 'it will be to fill the executive chair of the county.'”

“Executive chair! what nonsense!” cried the impatient gentleman,

snatching the packet from her hand; “there is no such office in the

county. Eh! what! it is, I declare, a commission, appointing Richard

Jones, Esquire, sheriff of the county. Well, this is kind in 'Duke,

positively. I must say 'Duke has a warm heart, and never forgets his

friends. Sheriff! High Sheriff of--! it sounds well, Bess, but it shall

execute better. 'Duke is a judicious man after all, and knows human

nature thoroughly, I'm much obliged to him,” continued Richard, using

the skirt of his coat unconsciously to wipe his eyes; “though I would

do as much for him any day, as he shall see, if I have an opportunity to

perform any of the duties of my office on him. It shall be done, Cousin

Bess----it shall be done, I say. How this cursed south wind makes one's

eyes water!”

“Now, Richard,” said the laughing maiden, “now I think you will find

something to do. I have often heard you complain of old that there was

nothing to do in this new country, while to my eyes it seemed as if

everything remained to be done.”

“Do!” echoed Richard, who blew his nose, raised his little form to its

greatest elevation, and looked serious. “Everything depends on system,

girl. I shall sit down this afternoon and systematize the county. I must

have deputies, you know. I will divide the county into districts, over

which I will place my deputies; and I will have one for the village,

which I will call my home department. Let me see--ho! Benjamin! yes,

Benjamin will make a good deputy; he has been naturalized, and would

answer admirably if he could only ride on horseback.”

“Yes, Mr. Sheriff,” said his companion; “and as he understands ropes so

well, he would be very expert, should occasion happen for his services

in another way.”

“No,” interrupted the other; “I flatter myself that no man could hang a

man better than--that is--ha!--oh! yes, Benjamin would do extremely well

in such an unfortunate dilemma, if he could be persuaded to attempt it.

But I should despair of the thing. I never could induce him to hang, or

teach him to ride on horseback. I must seek another deputy.”

“Well, sir, as you have abundant leisure for all these important

affairs, I beg that you will forget that you are high sheriff, and

devote some little of your time to gallantry. Where are the beauties and

improvements which you were to show me?”

“Where? why, everywhere! Here I have laid out some new streets; and when

they are opened, and the trees felled, and they are all built up, will

they not make a fine town? Well, 'Duke is a liberal-hearted fellow,

with all his stubbornness. Yes, yes; I must have at least four deputies,

besides a jailer.”

“I see no streets in the direction of our walk,” said Elizabeth, “unless

you call the short avenues through these pine bushes by that name.

Surely you do not contemplate building houses, very soon, in that forest

before us, and in those swamps.”

“We must run our streets by the compass, coz, and disregard trees, hills,

ponds, stumps, or, in fact, anything but posterity. Such is the will of

your father, and your father, you know----”

“Had you made sheriff, Mr. Jones,” interrupted the lady, with a tone

that said very plainly to the gentleman that he was touching a forbidden

subject.

“I know it, I know it,” cried Richard; “and if it were in my power,

I'd make 'Duke a king. He is a noble hearted fellow, and would make an

excellent king; that is, if he had a good prime minister. But who have

we here? voices in the bushes--a combination about mischief, I'll wager

my commission. Let us draw near and examine a little into the matter.”

During this dialogue, as the parties had kept in motion, Richard and his

cousin advanced some distance from the house into the open space in the

rear of the village, where, as may be gathered from the conversation,

streets were planned and future dwellings contemplated; but where, in

truth, the only mark of improvement that was to be seen was a neglected

clearing along the skirt of a dark forest of mighty pines, over which

the bushes or sprouts of the same tree had sprung up to a height that

interspersed the fields of snow with little thickets of evergreen. The

rushing of the wind, as it whistled through the tops of these mimic

trees, prevented the footsteps of the pair from being heard, while the

branches concealed their persons. Thus aided, the listeners drew nigh

to a spot where the young hunter, Leather-Stocking, and the Indian chief

were collected in an earnest consultation. The former was urgent in his

manner, and seemed to think the subject of deep importance, while Natty

appeared to listen with more than his usual attention to what the other

was saying. Mohegan stood a little on one side, with his head sunken

on his chest, his hair falling forward so as to conceal most of his

features, and his whole attitude expressive of deep dejection, if not of

shame. “Let us withdraw,” whispered Elizabeth; “we are intruders, and can

have no right to listen to the secrets of these men.”

“No right!” returned Richard a little impatiently, in the same tone, and

drawing her arm so forcibly through his own as to prevent her retreat;

“you forget, cousin, that it is my duty to preserve the peace of the

county and see the laws executed, these wanderers frequently commit

depredations, though I do not think John would do anything secretly.

Poor fellow! he was quite boozy last night, and hardly seems to be over

it yet. Let us draw nigher and hear what they say.”

Notwithstanding the lady's reluctance, Richard, stimulated doubtless by

his sense of duty, prevailed; and they were soon so near as distinctly

to hear sounds.

“The bird must be had,” said Natty, “by fair means or foul. Heigho! I've

known the time, lad, when the wild turkeys wasn't over-scarce in the

country; though you must go into the Virginia gaps if you want them now.

'to be sure, there is a different taste to a partridge and a well-fatted

turkey; though, to my eating, beaver's tail and bear's ham make the

best of food. But then every one has his own appetite. I gave the last

farthing, all to that shilling, to the French trader, this very morning,

as I came through the town, for powder; so, as you have nothing, we can

have but one shot for it. I know that Billy Kirby is out, and means to

have a pull of the trigger at that very turkey. John has a true eye for

a single fire, and, some how, my hand shakes so whenever I have to do

anything extrawnary, that I often lose my aim. Now, when I killed the

she-bear this fall, with her cubs, though they were so mighty ravenous,

I knocked them over one at a shot, and loaded while I dodged the trees

in the bargain; but this is a very different thing, Mr. Oliver.”

“This,” cried the young man, with an accent that sounded as if he took

a bitter pleasure in his poverty, while he held a shilling up before his

eyes, “this is all the treasure that I possess--this and my rifle!

Now, indeed, I have become a man of the woods, and must place my sole

dependence on the chase. Come, Natty, let us stake the last penny for

the bird; with your aim, it cannot fail to be successful.”

“I would rather it should be John, lad; my heart jumps into my mouth,

because you set your mind so much out; and I'm sartain that I shall miss

the bird. Them Indians can shoot one time as well as another; nothing

ever troubles them. I say, John, here's a shilling; take my rifle, and

get a shot at the big turkey they've put up at the stump. Mr. Oliver is

over-anxious for the creatur', and I'm sure to do nothing when I have

over-anxiety about it.”

The Indian turned his head gloomily, and after looking keenly for a

moment, in profound silence, at his companions, he replied:

“When John was young, eyesight was not straighter than his bullet. The

Mingo squaws cried out at the sound of his rifle. The Mingo warriors

were made squaws. When did he ever shoot twice? The eagle went above

the clouds when he passed the wigwam of Chingachgook; his feathers were

plenty with the women. But see,” he said, raising his voice from

the low, mournful tones in which he had spoken to a pitch of keen

excitement, and stretching forth both hands, “they shake like a deer at

the wolf's howl. Is John old? When was a Mohican a squaw with seventy

winters? No! the white man brings old age with him--rum is his

tomahawk!”

“Why, then, do you use it, old man?” exclaimed the young hunter; “why

will one, so noble by nature, aid the devices of the devil by making

himself a beast?”

“Beast! is John a beast?” replied the Indian slowly; “yes; you say no

lie, child of the Fire-eater! John is a beast. The smokes were once

few in these hills, The deer would lick the hand of a white man and the

birds rest on his head. They were strangers to him. My fathers came from

the shores of the salt lake. They fled before rum. They came to their

grandfather, and they lived in peace; or, when they did raise the

hatchet, it was to strike it into the brain of a Mingo. They gathered

around the council fire, and what they said was done. Then John was a

man. But warriors and traders with light eyes followed them. One brought

the long knife and one brought rum. They were more than the pines on the

mountains; and they broke up the councils and took the lands, The evil

spirit was in their jugs, and they let him loose. Yes yes--you say no

lie, Young Eagle; John is a Christian beast.”

“Forgive me, old warrior,” cried the youth, grasping his hand; “I should

be the last to reproach you. The curses of Heaven light on the cupidity

that has destroyed such a race. Remember, John, that I am of your

family, and it is now my greatest pride.”

The muscles of Mohegan relaxed a little, and he said, more mildly:

“You are a Delaware, my son; your words are not heard--John cannot

shoot.”

“I thought that lad had Indian blood in him,” whispered Richard, “by the

awkward way he handled my horses last night. You see, coz, they never

use harness. But the poor fellow shall have two shots at the turkey,

if he wants it, for I'll give him another shilling myself; though,

perhaps, I had better offer to shoot for him. They have got up their

Christmas sports, I find, in the bushes yonder, where you hear the

laughter--though it is a queer taste this chap has for turkey; not but

what it is good eating, too.”

“Hold, Cousin Richard,” exclaimed Elizabeth, clinging to his arm; “would

it be delicate to offer a shilling to that gentleman?”

“Gentleman, again! Do you think a half-breed, like him, will refuse

money? No, no, girl, he will take the shilling; ay! and even rum too,

notwithstanding he moralizes so much about it, But I'll give the lad a

chance for his turkey; for that Billy Kirby is one of the best marksmen

in the country; that is, if we except the--the gentleman.”

“Then,” said Elizabeth, who found her strength unequal to her will,

“then, sir, I will speak.” She advanced, with an air of determination,

in front of her cousin, and entered the little circle of bushes that

surrounded the trio of hunters. Her appearance startled the youth, who

at first made an unequivocal motion toward retiring, but, recollecting

himself, bowed, by lifting his cap, and resumed his attitude of leaning

on his rifle. Neither Natty nor Mohegan betrayed any emotion, though the

appearance of Elizabeth was so entirely unexpected.

“I find,” she said, “that the old Christmas sport of shooting the turkey

is yet in use among you. I feel inclined to try my chance for a bird.

Which of you will take this money, and, after paying my fee, give me the

aid of his rifle?”

“Is this a sport for a lady?” exclaimed the young hunter, with an

emphasis that could not well be mistaken, and with a rapidity that

showed he spoke without consulting anything but feeling. “Why not, sir?

If it be inhuman the sin is not confined to one sex only. But I have

my humor as well as others. I ask not your assistance, but”--turning

to Natty, and dropping a dollar in his hand--“this old veteran of the

forest will not be so ungallant as to refuse one fire for a lady.”

Leather-Stocking dropped the money into his pouch, and throwing up the

end of his rifle he freshened his priming; and first laughing in his

usual manner, he threw the piece over his shoulder, and said:

“If Billy Kirby don't get the bird before me, and the Frenchman's powder

don't hang fire this damp morning, you'll see as fine a turkey dead, in

a few minutes, as ever was eaten in the Judge's shanty. I have knowed

the Dutch women, on the Mohawk and Schoharie, count greatly on coming

to the merry-makings; and so, lad, you shouldn't be short with the lady.

Come, let us go forward, for if we wait the finest bird will be gone.”

“But I have a right before you, Natty, and shall try on my own luck

first. You will excuse me, Miss Temple; I have much reason to wish that

bird, and may seem ungallant, but I must claim my privileges.”

“Claim anything that is justly your own, sir,” returned the lady; “we

are both adventurers; and this is my knight. I trust my fortune to his

hand and eye. Lead on, Sir Leather-Stocking, and we will follow.”

Natty, who seemed pleased with the frank address of the young and

beauteous Elizabeth, who had so singularly intrusted him with such a

commission, returned the bright smile with which she had addressed him,

by his own peculiar mark of mirth, and moved across the snow toward

the spot whence the sounds of boisterous mirth proceeded, with the

long strides of a hunter. His companions followed in silence, the youth

casting frequent and uneasy glances toward Elizabeth, who was detained

by a motion from Richard.

“I should think, Miss Temple,” he said, so soon as the others were out

of hearing, “that if you really wished a turkey, you would not have

taken a stranger for the office, and such a one as Leather-Stocking.

But I can hardly believe that you are serious, for I have fifty, at this

moment, shut up in the coops, in every stage of fat, so that you might

choose any quality you pleased. There are six that I am trying an

experiment on, by giving them brick-bats with--”

“Enough, Cousin Dickon,” interrupted the lady; “I do wish the bird, and

it is because I so wish that I commissioned this Mr. Leather-Stocking.”

“Did you ever hear of the great shot that I made at the wolf, Cousin

Elizabeth, who was carrying off your father's sheep?” said Richard,

drawing himself up with an air of displeasure. “He had the sheep on his

hack; and, had the head of the wolf been on the other side, I should

have killed him dead; as it was--”

“You killed the sheep--I know it all, dear coz. Hut would it have been

decorous for the High Sheriff of--to mingle in such sports as these?”

“Surely you did not think that I intended actually to fire with my own

hands?” said Mr. Jones. “But let us follow, and see the shooting. There

is no fear of anything unpleasant occurring to a female in this new

country, especially to your father's daughter, and in my presence.”

“My father's daughter fears nothing, sir, more especially when escorted

by the highest executive officer in the county.”

She took his arm, and he led her through the mazes of the bushes to the

spot where most of the young men of the village were collected for

the sports of shooting a Christmas match, and whither Natty and his

Companions had already preceded them.

The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna · 第 16 / 41 章