“The court awards it, and the law doth give it.”
--Merchant of Venice.
Remarkable Pettibone, who had forgotten the wound received by her pride,
in contemplation of the ease and comforts of her situation, and who
still retained her station in the family of judge Temple, was dispatched
to the humble dwelling which Richard already styled “The Rectory,” in
attendance on Louisa, who was soon consigned to the arms of her father.
In the mean time, Marmaduke and his daughter were closeted for more than
an hour, nor shall we invade the sanctuary of parental love, by relating
the conversation. When the curtain rises on the reader, the Judge is
seen walking up and down the apartment, with a tender melancholy in his
air, and his child reclining on a settee, with a flushed cheek, and her
dark eyes seeming to float in crystals.
“It was a timely rescue! it was, indeed, a timely rescue, my child!”
cried the Judge. “Then thou didst not desert thy friend, my noble Bess?”
“I believe I may as well take the credit of fortitude,” said Elizabeth,
“though I much doubt if flight would have availed me anything, had I
even courage to execute such an intention. But I thought not of the
expedient.”
“Of what didst thou think, love? where did thy thoughts dwell most, at
that fearful moment?”
“The beast! the beast!” cried Elizabeth, veiling her face with her hand.
“Oh! I saw nothing, I thought of nothing but the beast. I tried to think
of better things, but the horror was too glaring, the danger too much
before my eyes.”
“Well, well, thou art safe, and we will converse no more on the
unpleasant subject. I did not think such an animal yet remained in
our forests; but they will stray far from their haunts when pressed by
hunger, and--”
A loud knocking at the door of the apartment interrupted what he was
about to utter, and he bid the applicant enter. The door was opened by
Benjamin, who came in with a discontented air, as if he felt that he had
a communication to make that would be out of season.
“Here is Squire Doolittle below, sir,” commenced the major-domo. “He has
been standing off and on in the door-yard for the matter of a glass;
and he has summat on his mind that he wants to heave up, d'ye see; but I
tells him, says I, man, would you be coming aboard with your complaints,
said I, when the judge has gotten his own child, as it were, out of the
jaws of a lion? But damn the bit of manners has the fellow, any more
than if he was one of them Guineas down in the kitchen there; and so as
he was sheering nearer, every stretch he made toward the house, I
could do no better than to let your honor know that the chap was in the
offing.”
“He must have business of importance,” said Marmaduke: “something in
relation to his office, most probably, as the court sits so shortly.”
“Ay, ay, you have it, sir,” cried Benjamin; “it's summat about a
complaint that he has to make of the old Leather-Stocking, who, to my
judgment, is the better man of the two. It's a very good sort of a man
is this Master Bumppo, and he has a way with a spear, all the same as
if he was brought up at the bow-oar of the captain's barge, or was born
with a boat-hook in his hand.”
“Against the Leather-Stocking!” cried Elizabeth, rising from her
reclining posture.
“Rest easy, my child; some trifle, I pledge you; I believe I am already
acquainted with its import Trust me, Bess, your champion shall be safe
in my care. Show Mr. Doolittle in, Benjamin.”
Miss Temple appeared satisfied with this assurance, but fastened
her dark eyes on the person of the architect, who profited by the
permission, and instantly made his appearance.
All the impatience of Hiram seemed to vanish the instant he entered the
apartment. After saluting the Judge and his daughter, he took the chair
to which Marmaduke pointed, and sat for a minute, composing his straight
black hair, with a gravity of demeanor that was in tended to do honor to
his official station. At length he said:
“It's likely, from what I hear, that Miss Temple had a narrow chance
with the painters, on the mountain.”
Marmaduke made a gentle inclination of his head, by way of assent, but
continued silent.
“I s'pose the law gives a bounty on the scalps,” continued Hiram, “in
which case the Leather-Stocking will make a good job on't.”
“It shall be my care to see that he is rewarded,” returned the Judge.
“Yes, yes, I rather guess that nobody hereabouts doubts the Judge's
generosity. Does he know whether the sheriff has fairly made up his mind
to have a reading desk or a deacon's pew under the pulpit?”
“I have not heard my cousin speak on that subject, lately,” replied
Marmaduke. “I think it's likely that we will have a pretty dull court
on't, from what I can gather. I hear that Jotham Riddel and the man who
bought his betterments have agreed to leave their difference to men, and
I don't think there'll be more than two civil cases in the calendar.”
“I am glad of it,” said the judge; “nothing gives me more pain than to
see my settlers wasting their time and substance in the unprofitable
struggles of the law. I hope it may prove true, sir.”
“I rather guess 'twill be left out to men,” added Hiram, with an air
equally balanced between doubt and assurance, but which judge Temple
understood to mean certainty; “I some think that I am appointed a
referee in the case myself; Jotham as much as told me that he should
take me. The defendant, I guess, means to take Captain Hollister, and we
two have partly agreed on Squire Jones for the third man.”
“Are there any criminals to be tried?” asked Marmaduke.
“There's the counterfeiters,” returned the magistrate, “as they were
caught in the act, I think it likely that they'll be indicted, in which
case it's probable they'll be tried.”
“Certainly, sir; I had forgotten those men. There are no more, I hope.”
“Why, there is a threaten to come forward with an assault that happened
at the last independence day; but I'm not sartain that the law'll take
hold on't. There was plaguey hard words passed, but whether they struck
or not I haven't heard. There's some folks talk of a deer or two being
killed out of season, over on the west side of the Patent, by some of
the squatters on the 'Fractions.'”
“Let a complaint be made, by all means,” said the Judge; “I am
determined to see the law executed to the letter, on all such
depredators.”
“Why, yes, I thought the judge was of that mind; I came partly on such a
business myself.”
“You!” exclaimed Marmaduke, comprehending in an instant how completely
he had been caught by the other's cunning; “and what have you to say,
sir?”
“I some think that Natty Bumppo has the carcass of a deer in his hut
at this moment, and a considerable part of my business was to get a
search-warrant to examine.”
“You think, sir! do you know that the law exacts an oath, before I can
issue such a precept? The habitation of a citizen is not to be idly
invaded on light suspicion.”
“I rather think I can swear to it myself,” returned the immovable Hiram;
“and Jotham is in the street, and as good as ready to come in and make
oath to the same thing.”
“Then issue the warrant thyself; thou art a magistrate, Mr. Doolittle;
why trouble me with the matter?”
“Why, seeing it's the first complaint under the law, and knowing the
judge set his heart on the thing, I thought it best that the authority
to search should come from himself. Besides, as I'm much in the woods,
among the timber, I don't altogether like making an enemy of the Leather
Stocking. Now, the Judge has a weight in the county that puts him above
fear.”
Miss Temple turned her face to the callous Architect as she said' “And
what has any honest person to dread from so kind a man as Bumppo?”
“Why, it's as easy, miss, to pull a rifle trigger on a magistrate as on
a painter. But if the Judge don't conclude to issue the warrant, I must
go home and make it out myself.”
“I have not refused your application, sir,” said Marmaduke, perceiving
at once that his reputation for impartiality was at stake; “go into my
office, Mr. Doolittle, where I will join you, and sign the warrant.”
Judge Temple stopped the remonstrances which Elizabeth was about to
utter, after Hiram had withdrawn, by laying his hand on her mouth, and
saying:
“It is more terrible in sound than frightful in reality, my child. I
suppose that the Leather-Stocking has shot a deer, for the season is
nearly over, and you say that he was hunting with his dogs when he came
so timely to your assistance. But it will be only to examine his cabin,
and find the animal, when you can pay the penalty out of your own
pocket, Bess. Nothing short of the twelve dollars and a half will
satisfy this harpy, I perceive; and surely my reputation as judge is
worth that trifle.”
Elizabeth was a good deal pacified with this assurance, and suffered her
father to leave her, to fulfil his promise to Hiram.
When Marmaduke left his office after executing his disagreeable duty,
he met Oliver Edwards, walking up the gravelled walk in front of the
mansion-house with great strides, and with a face agitated by feeling.
On seeing judge Temple, the youth turned aside, and with a warmth in his
manner that was not often exhibited to Marmaduke, he cried:
“I congratulate you, sir; from the bottom of my soul, I congratulate
you, Judge Temple. Oh! it would have been too horrid to have recollected
for a moment! I have just left the hut, where, after showing me his
scalps, old Natty told me of the escape of the ladies, as the thing to
be mentioned last. Indeed, indeed, sir, no words of mine can express
half of what I have felt “--the youth paused a moment, as if suddenly
recollecting that he was overstepping prescribed limits, and concluded
with a good deal of embarrassment--“what I have felt at this danger to
Miss--Grant, and--and your daughter, sir.”
But the heart of Marmaduke was too much softened to admit his cavilling
at trifles, and, without regarding the confusion of the other, he
replied:
“I thank thee, thank thee, Oliver; as thou sayest, it is almost too
horrid to be remembered. But come, let us hasten to Bess, for Louisa has
already gone to the rectory.”
The young man sprang forward, and, throwing open a door, barely
permitted the Judge to precede him, when he was in the presence of
Elizabeth in a moment.
The cold distance that often crossed the demeanor of the heiress, in her
intercourse with Edwards, was now entirely banished, and two hours were
passed by the party, in the free, unembarrassed, and confiding manner
of old and esteemed friends. Judge Temple had forgotten the suspicions
engendered during his morning's ride, and the youth and maiden
conversed, laughed, and were sad by turns, as impulse directed.
At length, Edwards, after repeating his intention to do so for the third
time, left the mansion-house to go to the rectory on a similar errand of
friendship.
During this short period, a scene was passing at the hut that completely
frustrated the benevolent intentions of Judge Temple in favor of the
Leather-Stocking, and at once destroyed the short-lived harmony between
the youth and Marmaduke.
When Hiram Doolittle had obtained his search-warrant, his first business
was to procure a proper officer to see it executed. The sheriff was
absent, summoning in person the grand inquest for the county; the deputy
who resided in the village was riding on the same errand, in a different
part of the settlement; and the regular constable of the township had
been selected for his station from motives of charity, being lame of a
leg. Hiram intended to accompany the officer as a spectator, but he felt
no very strong desire to bear the brunt of the battle. It was, however,
Saturday, and the sun was already turning the shadows of the pines
toward the east; on the morrow the conscientious magistrate could not
engage in such an expedition at the peril of his soul and long before
Monday, the venison, and all vestiges of the death of the deer, might be
secreted or destroyed. Happily, the lounging form of Billy Kirby met his
eye, and Hiram, at all time fruitful in similar expedients, saw his way
clear at once. Jotham, who was associated in the whole business, and who
had left the mountain in consequence of a summons from his coadjutor,
but who failed, equally with Hiram, in the unfortunate particular of
nerve, was directed to summon the wood-chopper to the dwelling of the
magistrate.
When Billy appeared, he was very kindly invited to take the chair in
which he had already seated himself, and was treated in all respects as
if he were an equal.
“Judge Temple has set his heart on putting the deer law in force,” said
Hiram, after the preliminary civilities were over, “and a complaint
has been laid before him that a deer has been killed. He has issued a
search-warrant, and sent for me to get somebody to execute it.”
Kirby, who had no idea of being excluded from the deliberative part
of any affair in which he was engaged, drew up his bushy head in a
reflecting attitude, and after musing a moment, replied by asking a few
questions,
“The sheriff has gone out of the way?”
“Not to be found.”
“And his deputy too?”
“Both gone on the skirts of the Patent.”
“But I saw the constable hobbling about town an hour ago.”
“Yes, yes,” said Hiram, with a coaxing smile and knowing nod, “but this
business wants a man--not a cripple.”
“Why,” said Billy, laughing, “will the chap make fight?”
“He's a little quarrelsome at times, and thinks he's the best man in the
country at rough and tumble.”
“I heard him brag once,” said Jotham, “that there wasn't a man 'twixt
the Mohawk Flats and the Pennsylvany line that was his match at a close
hug.”
“Did you?” exclaimed Kirby, raising his huge frame in his seat, like
a lion stretching in his lair; “I rather guess he never felt a
Varmounter's knuckles on his backbone-But who is the chap?”
“Why,” said Jotham, “it's--”
“It's agin' law to tell,” interrupted Hiram, “unless you'll qualify to
sarve. You'd be the very man to take him, Bill, and I'll make out a
special deputation in a minute, when you will get the fees.”
“What's the fees?” said Kirby, laying his large hand on the leaves of
a statute-book that Hiram had opened in order to give dignity to
his office, which he turned over in his rough manner, as if he were
reflecting on a subject about which he had, in truth, already decided;
“will they pay a man for a broken head?”
“They'll be something handsome,” said Hiram.
“Damn the fees,” said Billy, again laughing--“does the fellow think
he's the best wrestler in the county, though? what's his inches?”
“He's taller than you be,” said Jotham, “and one of the biggest--”
Talkers, he was about to add, but the impatience of Kirby interrupted
him. The wood-chopper had nothing fierce or even brutal in his
appearance; the character of his expression was that of good-natured
vanity. It was evident he prided himself on the powers of the physical
man, like all who have nothing better to boast of; and, stretching
out his broad hand, with the palm downward, he said, keeping his eyes
fastened on his own bones and sinews:
“Come, give us a touch of the book. I'll swear, and you'll see that I'm
a man to keep my oath.”
Hiram did not give the wood-chopper time to change his mind, but
the oath was administered without unnecessary delay. So soon as this
preliminary was completed, the three worthies left the house, and
proceeded by the nearest road toward the hut. They had reached the bank
of the lake, and were diverging from the route of the highway, before
Kirby recollected that he was now entitled to the privilege of the
initiated, and repeated his question as to the name of the offender,
“Which way, which way, squire?” exclaimed the hardy wood-chopper; “I
thought it was to search a house that you wanted me, not the woods.
There is nobody lives on this side of the lake, for six miles, unless
you count the Leather-Stocking and old John for settlers. Come, tell me
the chap's name, and I warrant me that I lead you to his clearing by a
straighter path than this, for I know every sapling that grows within
two miles of Templeton.”
“This is the way,” said Hiram, pointing forward and quickening his step,
as if apprehensive that Kirby would desert, “and Bumppo is the man.”
Kirby stopped short, and looked from one of his companions to the other
in astonishment. He then burst into a loud laugh, and cried:
“Who? Leather-Stocking! He may brag of his aim and his rifle, for he has
the best of both, as I will own myself, for sin' he shot the pigeon I
knock under to him; but for a wrestle! why, I would take the creatur'
between my finger and thumb, and tie him in a bow-knot around my neck
for a Barcelony. The man is seventy, and was never anything particular
for strength.”
“He's a deceiving man,” said Hiram, “like all the hunters; he is
stronger than he seems; besides, he has his rifle.”
“That for his rifle!” cried Billy; “he'd no more hurt me with his rifle
than he'd fly. He's a harmless creatur', and I must say that I think he
has as good right to kill deer as any man on the Patent. It's his main
support, and this is a free country, where a man is privileged to follow
any calling he likes.”
“According to that doctrine,” said Jotham, “anybody may shoot a deer.”
“This is the man's calling, I tell you,” returned Kirby, “and the law was
never made for such as he.”
“The law was made for all,” observed Hiram, who began to think that
the danger was likely to fall to his own share, notwithstanding his
management; “and the law is particular in noticing parjury.”
“See here, Squire Doolittle,” said the reckless woodchopper; “I don't
care the valie of a beetlering for you and your parjury too. But as I
have come so far, I'll go down and have a talk with the old man, and
maybe we'll fry a steak of the deer together.”
“Well, if you can get in peaceably, so much the better,” said the
magistrate. “To my notion, strife is very unpopular; I prefar, at all
times, clever conduct to an ugly temper.”
As the whole party moved at a great pace, they soon reached the hut,
where Hiram thought it prudent to halt on the outside of the top of the
fallen pine, which formed a chevaux-de-frise, to defend the approach
to the fortress, on the side next the village. The delay was little
relished by Kirby, who clapped his hands to his mouth, and gave a loud
halloo that brought the dogs out of their kennel, and, almost at the
same instant, the scantily-covered head of Natty from the door.
“Lie down, old fool,” cried the hunter; “do you think there's more
painters about you?”
“Ha! Leather-Stocking, I've an arrand with you,” cried Kirby; “here's
the good people of the State have been writing you a small letter, and
they've hired me to ride post.”
“What would you have with me, Billy Kirby?” said Natty, stepping across
his threshold, and raising his hand over his eyes, to screen them from
the rays of the setting sun, while he took a survey of his visitor.
“I've no land to clear, and Heaven knows I would set out six trees afore
I would cut down one.--Down, Hector, I say; into your kennel with ye.”
“Would you, old boy?” roared Billy; “then so much the better for me. But
I must do my arrand. Here's a letter for you, Leather-Stocking. If you
can read it, it's all well, and if you can't, here's Squire Doolittle at
hand, to let you know what it means. It seems you mistook the twentieth
of July for the first of August, that's all.”
By this time Natty had discovered the lank person of Hiram, drawn up
under the cover of a high stump; and all that was complacent in his
manner instantly gave way to marked distrust and dissatisfaction. He
placed his head within the door of his hut, and said a few words in an
undertone, when he again appeared, and continued:
“I've nothing for ye; so away, afore the Evil One tempts me to do you
harm. I owe you no spite, Billy Kirby, and what for should you trouble
an old man who has done you no harm?”
Kirby advanced through the top of the pine, to within a few feet of
the hunter, where he seated himself on the end of a log, with great
composure, and began to examine the nose of Hector, with whom he was
familiar, from their frequently meeting in the woods, where he sometimes
fed the dog from his own basket of provisions.
“You've outshot me, and I'm not ashamed to say it,” said the
wood-chopper; “but I don't owe you a grudge for that, Natty! though it
seems that you've shot once too often, for the story goes that you've
killed a buck.”
“I've fired but twice to-day, and both times at the painters,” returned
the Leather-Stocking; “see, here are the scalps! I was just going in
with them to the Judge's to ask the bounty.”
While Natty was speaking, he tossed the ears to Kirby, who continued
playing with them with a careless air, holding them to the dogs, and
laughing at their movements when they scented the unusual game.
But Hiram, emboldened by the advance of the deputed constable, now
ventured to approach also, and took up the discourse with the air of
authority that became his commission. His first measure was to read the
warrant aloud, taking care to give due emphasis to the most material
parts, and concluding with the name of the Judge in very audible and
distinct tones.
“Did Marmaduke Temple put his name to that bit of paper?” said Natty,
shaking his head; “well, well, that man loves the new ways, and his
betterments, and his lands, afore his own flesh and blood. But I won't
mistrust the gal; she has an eye like a full-grown buck! poor thing, she
didn't choose her father, and can't help it. I know but little of
the law, Mr. Doolittle; what is to be done, now you've read your
commission?”
“Oh! it's nothing but form, Natty,” said Hiram, endeavoring to assume a
friendly aspect. “Let's go in, and talk the thing over in reason; I dare
to say that the money can be easily found, and I partly conclude, from
what passed, that Judge Temple will pay it himself.”
The old hunter had kept a keen eye on the movements of his three
visitors, from the beginning, and had maintained his position, just
without the threshold of the cabin, with a determined manner, that
showed he was not to be easily driven from his post. When Hiram drew
nigher, as if expecting his proposition would be accepted, Natty lifted
his hand, and motioned for him to retreat.
“Haven't I told you more than once, not to tempt me?” he said. “I
trouble no man; why can't the law leave me to myself? Go back--go back,
and tell your Judge that he may keep his bounty; but I won't have his
wasty ways brought into my hut.”
This offer, however, instead of appeasing the curiosity of Hiram, seemed
to inflame it the more; while Kirby cried:
“Well, that's fair, squire; he forgives the county his demand, and the
county should forgive him the fine; it's what I call an even trade, and
should be concluded on the spot. I like quick dealings, and what's fair
'twixt man and man.”
“I demand entrance into this house,” said Hiram, summoning all the
dignity he could muster to his assistance, “in the name of the people;
and by virtue of this warrant, and of my office, and with this peace
officer.”
“Stand back, stand back, squire, and don't tempt me,” said the
Leather-Stocking, motioning him to retire, with great earnestness.
“Stop us at your peril,” continued Hiram. “Billy! Jotham! close up--I
want testimony.”
Hiram had mistaken the mild but determined air of Natty for submission,
and had already put his foot on the threshold to enter, when he was
seized unexpectedly by his shoulders, and hurled over the little bank
toward the lake, to the distance of twenty feet. The suddenness of the
movement, and the unexpected display of strength on the part of Natty,
created a momentary astonishment in his invaders, that silenced all
noises; but at the next instant Billy Kirby gave vent to his mirth in
peals of laughter, that he seemed to heave up from his very soul.
“Well done, old stub!” he shouted; “the squire knowed you better than I
did. Come, come, here's a green spot; take it out like men, while Jotham
and I see fair play.”
“William Kirby, I order you to do your duty,” cried Hiram, from under
the bank; “seize that man; I order you to seize him in the name of the
people.”
But the Leather-Stocking now assumed a more threatening attitude;
his rifle was in his hand, and its muzzle was directed toward the
wood-chopper.
“Stand off, I bid ye,” said Natty; “you know my aim, Billy Kirby; I
don't crave your blood, but mine and your'n both shall turn this green
grass red, afore you put foot into the hut.”
While the affair appeared trifling, the wood-chopper seemed disposed
to take sides with the weaker party; but, when the firearms were
introduced, his manner very sensibly changed. He raised his large frame
from the log, and, facing the hunter with an open front, he replied:
“I didn't come here as your enemy, Leather-Stocking; but I don't value
the hollow piece of iron in your hand so much as a broken axe-helve; so,
squire, say the word, and keep within the law, and we'll soon see who's
the best main of the two.”
But no magistrate was to be seen! The instant the rifle was produced
Hiram and Jotham vanished; and when the wood-chopper bent his eyes about
him in surprise at receiving no answer, he discovered their retreating
figures moving toward the village at a rate that sufficiently indicated
that they had not only calculated the velocity of a rifle-bullet, but
also its probable range.
“You've scared the creatur's off,” said Kirby, with great contempt
expressed on his broad features; “but you are not going to scare me; so,
Mr. Bumppo, down with your gun, or there'll be trouble 'twixt us.” Natty
dropped his rifle, and replied:
“I wish you no harm, Billy Kirby; but I leave it to yourself, whether an
old man's hut is to be run down by such varmint. I won't deny the buck
to you, Billy, and you may take the skin in, if you please, and show it
as testimony. The bounty will pay the fine, and that ought to satisfy
any man.”
“Twill, old boy, 'twill,” cried Kirby, every shade of displeasure
vanishing from his open brow at the peace-offering; “throw out the hide,
and that shall satisfy the law.”
Natty entered the hut, and soon reappeared, bringing with him the
desired testimonial; and the wood-chopper departed, as thoroughly
reconciled to the hunter as if nothing had happened. As he paced along
the margin of the lake he would burst into frequent fits of laughter,
while he recollected the summerset of Hiram: and, on the whole, he
thought the affair a very capital joke.
Long before Billy' reached the village, however, the news of his danger,
and of Natty's disrespect of the law, and of Hiram's discomfiture, were
in circulation. A good deal was said about sending for the sheriff; some
hints were given about calling out the posse comitatus to avenge the
insulted laws; and many of the citizens were collected, deliberating how
to proceed. The arrival of Billy with the skin, by removing all grounds
for a search, changed the complexion of things materially. Nothing now
remained but to collect the fine and assert the dignity of the people;
all of which, it was unanimously agreed, could be done as well on the
succeeding Monday as on Saturday night--a time kept sacred by large
portion of the settlers. Accordingly, all further proceedings were
suspended for six-and-thirty hours.