The Deerslayer by James Fenimore CooperOr, The First War-Path (page 2)

her situation excited. An idiot she could not properly be termed, her mind being just enough enfeebled to lose most of those traits that are connected with the more artful qualities, and to retain its ingenuousness and love of truth. It had often been remarked of this girl, by the few who had seen her, and who possessed sufficient knowledge to discriminate, that her perception of the right seemed almost intuitive, while her aversion to the wrong formed so distinctive a feature of her mind, as to surround her with an atmosphere of pure morality; peculiarities that are not infrequent with persons who are termed feeble-minded; as if God had forbidden the evil spirits to invade a precinct so defenceless, with the benign purpose of extending a direct protection to those who had been left without the usual aids of humanity. Her person, too, was agreeable, having a strong resemblance to that of her sister’s, of which it was a subdued and humble copy. If it had none of the brilliancy of Judith’s, the calm, quiet, almost holy expression of her meek countenance seldom failed to win on the observer, and few noted it long that did not begin to feel a deep and lasting interest in the girl. She had no colour, in common, nor was her simple mind apt to present images that caused her cheek to brighten, though she retained a modesty so innate that it almost raised her to the unsuspecting purity of a being superior to human infirmities. Guileless, innocent, and without distrust, equally by nature and from her mode of life, providence had, nevertheless shielded her from harm, by a halo of moral light, as it is said ‘to temper the wind to the shorn lamb.’

“You are Hetty Hutter,” said Deerslayer, in the way one puts a question unconsciously to himself, assuming a kindness of tone and manner that were singularly adapted to win the confidence of her he addressed. “Hurry Harry has told me of you, and I know you must be the child?”

“Yes, I’m Hetty Hutter” returned the girl in a low, sweet voice, which nature, aided by some education, had preserved from vulgarity of tone and utterance-“I’m Hetty; Judith Hutter’s sister; and Thomas Hutter’s youngest daughter.”

“I know your history, then, for Hurry Harry talks considerable, and he is free of speech when he can find other people’s consarns to dwell on. You pass most of your life on the lake, Hetty.”

“Certainly. Mother is dead; father is gone a-trapping, and Judith and I stay at home. What’s your name?”

“That’s a question more easily asked than it is answered, young woman, seeing that I’m so young, and yet have borne more names than some of the greatest chiefs in all America.”

“But you’ve got a name- you don’t throw away one name, before you come honestly by another?”

“I hope not, gal- I hope not. My names have come nat’rally, and I suppose the one I bear now will be of no great lasting, since the Delawares seldom settle on a man’s ra’al title, until such time as he has an opportunity of showing his true natur’, in the council, or on the warpath; which has never behappened me; seeing firstly, because I’m not born a red-skin and have no right to sit in their councillings, and am much too humble to be called on for opinions from the great of my own colour; and, secondly, because this is the first war that has befallen in my time, and no inimy has yet inroaded far enough into the colony, to be reached by an arm even longer than mine.”

“Tell me your names,” added Hetty, looking up at him artlessly, “and, maybe, I’ll tell you your character.”

“There is some truth in that, I’ll not deny, though it often fails. Men are deceived in other men’s characters, and frequently give ’em names they by no means desarve. You can see the truth of this in the Mingo names, which, in their own tongue, signify the same things as the Delaware names,- at least, so they tell me, for I know little of that tribe, unless it be by report,- and no one can say they are as honest or as upright a nation. I put no great dependence, therefore, on names.”

“Tell me all your names,” repeated the girl, earnestly, for her mind was too simple to separate things from professions, and she did attach importance to a name; “I want to know what to think of you.”

“Well, sartain; I’ve no objection, and you shall hear them all. In the first place, then, I’m Christian, and white-born, like yourself, and my parents had a name that came down from father to son, as is a part of their gifts. My father was called Bumppo; and I was named after him, of course, the given name being Nathaniel, or Natty, as most people saw fit to tarm it.”

“Yes, yes – Natty – and Hetty” interrupted the girl quickly, and looking up from her work again, with a smile: “you are Natty, and I’m Hetty-though you are Bumppo, and I’m Hutter. Bumppo isn’t as pretty as Hutter, is it?”

“Why, that’s as people fancy. Bumppo has no lofty sound, I admit; and yet men have bumped through the world with it. I did not go by this name, howsoever, very long; for the Delawares soon found out, or thought they found out, that I was not given to lying, and they called me, firstly, ‘Straight-tongue.'”

“That’s a good name,” interrupted Hetty, earnestly, and in a positive manner; “don’t tell me there’s no virtue in names!”

“I do not say that, for perhaps I desarved to be so called, lies being no favorites with me, as they are with some. After a while they found out I was quick of foot, and then they called me ‘The Pigeon’; which, you know, has a swift wing, and flies in a straight line.”

“That was a pretty name!” exclaimed Hetty; “pigeons are pretty birds!”

“Most things that God created are pretty in their way, my good gal, though they get to be deformed by mankind, so as to change their natur’s, as well as their appearance. From carrying messages, and striking blind trails, I got at last to following the hunters, when it was thought I was quicker and surer at finding the game than most lads, and then they called me the ‘Lap-ear’; as, they said, I partook of the sagacity of the hound.”

“That’s not so pretty,” answered Hetty; “I hope you didn’t keep that name long.”

“Not after I was rich enough to buy a rifle,” returned the other, betraying a little pride through his usually quiet and subdued manner; “then it was seen I could keep a wigwam in ven’son; and in time I got the name of ‘Deerslayer,’ which is that I now bear; homely as some will think it, who set more value on the scalp of a fellow-mortal than on the horns of a buck”

“Well, Deerslayer, I’m not one of them,” answered Hetty, simply; “Judith likes soldiers, and flary coats, and fine feathers; but they’re all naught to me. She says the officers are great, and gay, and of soft speech; but they make me shudder, for their business is to kill their fellow-creatures. I like your calling better; and your last name is a very good one– better than Natty Bumppo.”

“This is nat’ral in one of your turn of mind, Hetty, and much as I should have expected. They tell me your sister is handsome–oncommon, for a mortal; and beauty is apt to seek admiration.”

“Did you never see Judith?” demanded the girl, with quick earnestness; “if you never have, go at once and look at her. Even Hurry Harry isn’t more pleasant to look at though she is a woman, and he is a man.”

Deerslayer regarded the girl for a moment with concern. Her pale-face had flushed a little, and her eye, usually so mild and serene, brightened as she spoke, in the way to betray the inward impulses.

“Ay, Hurry Harry,” he muttered to himself, as he walked through the cabin towards the other end of the boat; “this comes of good looks, if a light tongue has had no consarn in it. It’s easy to see which way that poor creatur’s feelin’s are leanin’, whatever may be the case with your Jude’s.”

But an interruption was put to the gallantry of Hurry, the coquetry of his intros, the thoughts of Deerslayer, and the gentle feelings of Hetty, by the sudden appearance of the canoe of the ark’s owner, in the narrow opening among the bushes that served as a sort of moat to his position. It would seem that Hutter, or Floating Tom, as he was familiarly called by all the hunters who knew his habits, recognized the canoe of Hurry, for he expressed no surprise at finding him in the scow. On the contrary, his reception was such as to denote not only gratification, but a pleasure, mingled with a little disappointment at his not having made his appearance some days sooner.

“I looked for you last week,” he said, in a half-grumbling, half-welcoming manner; “and was disappointed uncommonly that you didn’t arrive. There came a runner through, to warn all the trappers and hunters that the colony and the Canadas were again in trouble; and I felt lonesome, up in these mountains, with three scalps to see to, and only one pair of hands to protect them.”

“That’s reasonable,” returned March; “and ‘t was feeling like a parent. No doubt, if I had two such darters as Judith and Hetty, my exper’ence would tell the same story, though in gin’ral I am just as well satisfied with having the nearest neighbor fifty miles off, as when he is within call.”

“Notwithstanding, you didn’t choose to come into the wilderness alone, now you knew that the Canada savages are likely to be stirring,” returned Hutter, giving a sort of distrustful, and at the same time inquiring glance at Deerslayer.

“Why should I? They say a bad companion, on a journey, helps to shorten the path; and this young man I account to be a reasonably good one. This is Deerslayer, old Tom, a noted hunter among the Delawares, and Christian-born, and Christian-edicated, too, like you and me. The lad is not parfect, perhaps, but there’s worse men in the country that he came from, and it’s likely he’ll find some that’s no better, in this part of the world. Should we have occasion to defend our traps, and the territory, he’ll be useful in feeding us all; for he’s a reg’lar dealer in ven’son.”

“Young man, you are welcome,” growled Tom, thrusting a hard, bony hand towards the youth, as a pledge of his sincerity; “in such times, a white face is a friend’s, and I count on you as a support. Children sometimes make a stout heart feeble, and these two daughters of mine give me more concern than all my traps, and skins, and rights in the country.”

“That’s nat’ral!” cried Hurry. “Yes, Deerslayer, you and I don’t know it yet by experience; but, on the whole, I consider that as nat’ral. If we had darters, it’s more than probable we should have some such feelin’s; and I honor the man that owns ’em. As for Judith, old man, I enlist, at once, as her soldier, and here is Deerslayer to help you to take care of Hetty.”

“Many thanks to you, Master March,” returned the beauty, in a full, rich voice, and with an accuracy of intonation and utterance that she shared in common with her sister, and which showed that she had been better taught than her father’s life and appearance would give reason to expect. “Many thanks to you; but Judith Hutter has the spirit and the experience that will make her depend more on herself than on good-looking rovers like you. Should there be need to face the savages, do you land with my father, instead of burrowing in the huts, under the show of defending us females and-“

“Girl– girl,” interrupted the father, “quiet that glib tongue of thine, and hear the truth. There are savages on the lake shore already, and no man can say how near to us they may be at this very moment, or when we may hear more from them!”

“If this be true, Master Hutter,” said Hurry, whose change of countenance denoted how serious he deemed the information, though it did not denote any unmanly alarm, “if this be true, your ark is in a most misfortunate position, for, though the cover did deceive Deerslayer and myself, it would hardly be overlooked by a full-blooded Injin, who was out seriously in s’arch of scalps!”

“I think as you do, Hurry, and wish, with all my heart, we lay anywhere else, at this moment, than in this narrow, crooked stream, which has many advantages to hide in, but which is almost fatal to them that are discovered. The savages are near us, moreover, and the difficulty is, to get out of the river without being shot down like deer standing at a lick!”

“Are you sartain, Master Hutter, that the red-skins you dread are ra’al Canadas?” asked Deerslayer, in a modest but earnest manner. “Have you seen any, and can you describe their paint?”

“I have fallen in with the signs of their being in the neighborhood, but have seen none of ’em. I was down stream a mile or so, looking to my traps, when I struck a fresh trail, crossing the corner of a swamp, and moving northward. The man had not passed an hour; and I know’d it for an Indian footstep, by the size of the foot, and the intoe, even before I found a worn moccasin, which its owner had dropped as useless. For that matter, I found the spot where he halted to make a new one, which was only a few yards from the place where he had dropped the old one.”

“That doesn’t look much like a red-skin on the war path!” returned the other, shaking his head. “An exper’enced warrior, at least, would have burned, or buried, or sunk in the river such signs of his passage; and your trail is, quite likely, a peaceable trail. But the moccasin may greatly relieve my mind, if you bethought you of bringing it off. I’ve come here to meet a young chief myself; and his course would be much in the direction you’ve mentioned. The trail may have been his’n.”

“Hurry Harry, you’re well acquainted with this young man, I hope, who has meetings with savages in a part of the country where he has never been before?” demanded Hutter, in a tone and in a manner that sufficiently indicated the motive of the question; these rude beings seldom hesitating, on the score of delicacy, to betray their feelings. “Treachery is an Indian virtue; and the whites, that live much in their tribes, soon catch their ways and practices.”

“True- true as the Gospel, old Tom; but not personable to Deerslayer, who’s a young man of truth, if he has no other ricommend. I’ll answer for his honesty, whatever I may do for his valor in battle.”

“I should like to know his errand in this strange quarter of the country.”

“That is soon told, Master Hutter,” said the young man, with the composure of one who kept a clean conscience. “I think, moreover, you’ve a right to ask it. The father of two such darters, who occupies a lake, after your fashion, has just the same right to inquire into a stranger’s business in his neighborhood, as the colony would have to demand the reason why the Frenchers put more rijiments than common along the lines. No, no, I’ll not deny your right to know why a stranger comes into your habitation or country, in times as serious as these.”

“If such is your way of thinking, friend, let me hear your story without more words.”

“‘T is soon told, as I said afore; and shall be honestly told. I’m a young man, and, as yet, have never been on a war-path; but no sooner did the news come among the Delawares, that wampum and a hatchet were about to be sent in to the tribe, than they wished me to go out among the people of my own color, and get the exact state of things for ’em. This I did, and, after delivering my talk to the chiefs, on my return, I met an officer of the crown on the Schoharie, who had messages to send to some of the fri’ndly tribes that live farther west. This was thought a good occasion for Chingachgook, a young chief who has never struck a foe, and myself; to go on our first war path in company, and an app’intment was made for us, by an old Delaware, to meet at the rock near the foot of this lake. I’ll not deny that Chingachgook has another object in view, but it has no consarn with any here, and is his secret and not mine; therefore I’ll say no more about it.”

“‘Tis something about a young woman,” interrupted Judith hastily, then laughing at her own impetuosity, and even having the grace to colour a little, at the manner in which she had betrayed her readiness to impute such a motive. “If ’tis neither war, nor a hunt, it must be love.”

“Ay, it comes easy for the young and handsome, who hear so much of them feelin’s, to suppose that they lie at the bottom of most proceedin’s; but, on that head, I say nothin’. Chingachgook is to meet me at the rock, an hour afore sunset tomorrow evening, after which we shall go our way together, molesting none but the king’s inimies, who are lawfully our own. Knowing Hurry of old, who once trapped in our hunting grounds, and falling in with him on the Schoharie, just as he was on the p’int of starting for his summer ha’nts, we agreed to journey in company; not so much from fear of the Mingos, as from good fellowship, and, as he says, to shorten a long road.”

“And you think the trail I saw may have been that of your friend, ahead of his time?” said Hutter.

“That’s my idee, which may be wrong, but which may be right. If I saw the moccasin, howsever, I could tell, in a minute, whether it is made in the Delaware fashion, or not.”

“Here it is, then,” said the quick-witted Judith, who had already gone to the canoe in quest of it. “Tell us what it says; friend or enemy. You look honest, and I believe all you say, whatever father may think.”

“That’s the way with you, Jude; forever finding out friends, where I distrust foes,” grumbled Tom: “but, speak out, young man, and tell us what you think of the moccasin.”

“That’s not Delaware made,” returned Deerslayer, examining the worn and rejected covering for the foot with a cautious eye. “I’m too young on a war-path to be positive, but I should say that moccasin has a northern look, and comes from beyond the Great Lakes.”

“If such is the case, we ought not to lie here a minute longer than is necessary,” said Hutter, glancing through the leaves of his cover, as if he already distrusted the presence of an enemy on the opposite shore of the narrow and sinuous stream. “It wants but an hour or so of night, and to move in the dark will be impossible, without making a noise that would betray us. Did you hear the echo of a piece in the mountains, half-an-hour since?”

“Yes, old man, and heard the piece itself,” answered Hurry, who now felt the indiscretion of which he had been guilty, “for the last was fired from my own shoulder.”

“I feared it came from the French Indians; still it may put them on the look-out, and be a means of discovering us. You did wrong to fire in war-time, unless there was good occasion.

“So I begin to think myself, Uncle Tom; and yet, if a man can’t trust himself to let off his rifle in a wilderness that is a thousand miles square, lest some inimy should hear it, where’s the use in carrying one?”

Hutter now held a long consultation with his two guests, in which the parties came to a true understanding of their situation. He explained the difficulty that would exist in attempting to get the ark out of so swift and narrow a stream, in the dark, without making a noise that could not fail to attract Indian ears. Any strollers in their vicinity would keep near the river or the lake; but the former had swampy shores in many places, and was both so crooked and so fringed with bushes, that it was quite possible to move by daylight without incurring much danger of being seen. More was to be apprehended, perhaps, from the ear than from the eye, especially as long as they were in the short, straitened, and canopied reaches of the stream.

“I never drop down into this cover, which is handy to my traps, and safer than the lake from curious eyes, without providing the means of getting out ag’in,” continued this singular being; “and that is easier done by a pull than a push. My anchor is now lying above the suction, in the open lake; and here is a line, you see, to haul us up to it. Without some such help, a single pair of bands would make heavy work in forcing a scow like this up stream. I have a sort of a crab, too, that lightens the pull, on occasion. Jude can use the oar astern as well as myself; and when we fear no enemy, to get out of the river gives us but little trouble.”

“What should we gain, Master Hutter, by changing the position?” asked Deerslayer, with a good deal of earnestness; “this is a safe cover, and a stout defence might be made from the inside of this cabin. I’ve never fou’t unless in the way of tradition; but it seems to me we might beat off twenty Mingos, with palisades like them afore us.”

“Ay, ay; you ‘ve never fought except in traditions, that’s plain enough, young man! Did you ever see as broad a sheet of water as this above us, before you came in upon it with Hurry?”

“I can’t say that I ever did,” Deerslayer answered, modestly. “Youth is the time to l’arn; and I’m far from wishing to raise my voice in counsel, afore it is justified by exper’ence.”

“Well, then, I’ll teach you the disadvantage of fighting in this position, and the advantage of taking to the open lake. Here, you may see, the savages will know where to aim every shot; and it would be too much to hope that some would not find their way through the crevices of the logs. Now, on the other hand, we should have nothing but a forest to aim at. Then we are not safe from fire, here, the bark of this roof being little better than so much kindling-wood. The castle, too, might be entered and ransacked in my absence, and all my possessions overrun and destroyed. Once in the lake, we can be attacked only in boats or on rafts- shall have a fair chance with the enemy-and can protect the castle with the ark. Do you understand this reasoning, youngster?”

“It sounds well- yes, it has a rational sound; and I’ll not gainsay it.”

“Well, old Tom,” cried Hurry, “If we are to move, the sooner we make a beginning, the sooner we shall know whether we are to have our scalps for night-caps, or not.”

As this proposition was self-evident, no one denied its justice. The three men, after a short preliminary explanation, now set about their preparations to move the ark in earnest. The slight fastenings were quickly loosened; and, by hauling on the line, the heavy craft slowly emerged from the cover. It was no sooner free from the incumbrance of the branches, than it swung into the stream, sheering quite close to the western shore, by the force of the current. Not a soul on board heard the rustling of the branches, as the cabin came against the bushes and trees of the western bank, without a feeling of uneasiness; for no one knew at what moment, or in what place, a secret and murderous enemy might unmask himself. Perhaps the gloomy light that still struggled through the impending canopy of leaves, or found its way through the narrow, ribbon-like opening, which seemed to mark, in the air above, the course of the river that flowed beneath, aided in augmenting the appearance of the danger; for it was little more than sufficient to render objects visible, without giving up all their outlines at a glance. Although the sun had not absolutely set, it had withdrawn its direct rays from the valley; and the hues of evening were beginning to gather around objects that stood uncovered, rendering those within the shadows of the woods still more sombre and gloomy.

No interruption followed the movement, however, and, as the men continued to haul on the line, the ark passed steadily ahead, the great breadth of the scow preventing its sinking into the water, and from offering much resistance to the progress of the swift element beneath its bottom. Hutter, too, had adopted a precaution suggested by experience, which might have done credit to a seaman, and which completely prevented any of the annoyances and obstacles which otherwise would have attended the short turns of the river. As the ark descended, heavy stones, attached to the line, were dropped in the centre of the stream, forming local anchors, each of which was kept from dragging by the assistance of those above it, until the uppermost of all was reached, which got its “backing” from the anchor, or grapnel, that lay well out in the lake. In consequence of this expedient, the ark floated clear of the incumbrances of the shore, against which it would otherwise have been unavoidably hauled at every turn, producing embarrassments that Hutter, single-handed, would have found it very difficult to overcome. Favored by this foresight, and stimulated by the apprehension of discovery, Floating Tom and his two athletic companions hauled the ark ahead with quite as much rapidity as comported with the strength of the line. At every turn in the stream, a stone was raised from the bottom, when the direction of the scow changed to one that pointed towards the stone that lay above. In this manner, with the channel buoyed out for him, as a sailor might term it, did Hutter move forward, occasionally urging his friends, in a low and guarded voice, to increase their exertions, and then, as occasions offered, warning them against efforts that might, at particular moments, endanger all by too much zeal. In spite of their long familiarity with the woods, the gloomy character of the shaded river added to the uneasiness that each felt; and when the ark reached the first bend in the Susquehannah, and the eye caught a glimpse of the broader expanse of the lake, all felt a relief, that perhaps none would have been willing to confess. Here the last stone was raised from the bottom, and the line led directly towards the grapnel, which, as Hutter had explained, was dropped above the suction of the current.

“Thank God!” ejaculated Hurry, “there is daylight, and we shall soon have a chance of seeing our inimies, if we are to feel ’em.”

“That is more than you or any man can say,” growled Hutter. “There is no spot so likely to harbor a party as the shore around the outlet, and the moment we clear these trees and get into open water, will be the most trying time, since it will leave the enemy a cover, while it puts us out of one. Judith, girl, do you and Hetty leave the oar to take care of itself; and go within the cabin; and be mindful not to show your faces at a window; for they who will look at them won’t stop to praise their beauty. And now, Hurry, we ‘ll step into this outer room ourselves, and haul through the door, where we shall all be safe, from a surprise, at least. Friend Deerslayer, as the current is lighter, and the line has all the strain on it that is prudent, do you keep moving from window to window, taking care not to let your head be seen, if you set any value on life. No one knows when or where we shall hear from our neighbors.”

Deerslayer complied, with a sensation that had nothing in common with fear, but which had all the interest of a perfectly novel and a most exciting situation. For the first time in his life he was in the vicinity of enemies, or had good reason to think so; and that, too, under all the thrilling circumstances of Indian surprises and Indian artifices. As he took his stand at the window, the ark was just passing through the narrowest part of the stream, a point where the water first entered what was properly termed the river, and where the trees fairly interlocked overhead, causing the current to rush into an arch of verdure; a feature as appropriate and peculiar to the country, perhaps, as that of Switzerland, where the rivers come rushing literally from chambers of ice.

The ark was in the act of passing the last curve of this leafy entrance, as Deerslayer, having examined all that could be seen of the eastern bank of the river, crossed the room to look from the opposite window, at the western. His arrival at this aperture was most opportune, for he had no sooner placed his eye at a crack, than a sight met his gaze that might well have alarmed a sentinel so young and inexperienced. A sapling overhung the water, in nearly half a circle, having first grown towards the light, and then been pressed down into this form by the weight of the snows; a circumstance of common occurrence in the American woods. On this no less than six Indians had already appeared, others standing ready to follow them, as they left room; each evidently bent on running out on the trunk, and dropping on the roof of the ark as it passed beneath. This would have been an exploit of no great difficulty, the inclination of the tree admitting of an easy passage, the adjoining branches offering ample support for the hands, and the fall being too trifling to be apprehended. When Deerslayer first saw this party, it was just unmasking itself, by ascending the part of the tree nearest to the earth, or that which was much the most difficult to overcome; and his knowledge of Indian habits told him at once that they were all in their war-paint, and belonged to a hostile tribe.

“Pull, Hurry,” he cried; “pull for your life, and as you love Judith Hutter! Pull, man, pull!”

This call was made to one that the young man knew had the strength of a giant. It was so earnest and solemn, that both Hutter and March felt it was not idly given, and they applied all their force to the line simultaneously, and at a most critical moment. The scow redoubled its motion, and seemed to glide from under the tree as if conscious of the danger that was impending overhead. Perceiving that they were discovered, the Indians uttered the fearful war-whoop, and running forward on the tree, leaped desperately towards their fancied prize. There were six on the tree, and each made the effort. All but their leader fell into the river more or less distant from the ark, as they came, sooner or later, to the leaping place. The chief, who had taken the dangerous post in advance, having an earlier opportunity than the others, struck the scow just within the stern. The fall proving so much greater than he had anticipated, he was slightly stunned, and for a moment he remained half bent and unconscious of his situation. At this instant Judith rushed from the cabin, her beauty heightened by the excitement that produced the bold act, which flushed her cheek to crimson, and, throwing all her strength into the effort, she pushed the intruder over the edge of the scow, headlong into the river. This decided feat was no sooner accomplished than the woman resumed her sway; Judith looked over the stern to ascertain what had become of the man, and the expression of her eyes softened to concern, next, her cheek crimsoned between shame and surprise at her own temerity, and then she laughed in her own merry and sweet manner. All this occupied less than a minute, when the arm of Deerslayer was thrown around her waist, and she was dragged swiftly within the protection of the cabin. This retreat was not effected too soon. Scarcely were the two in safety, when the forest was filled with yells, and bullets began to patter against the logs.

The ark being in swift motion all this while, it was beyond the danger of pursuit by the time these little events had occurred; and the savages, as soon as the first burst of their anger had subsided, ceased firing, with the consciousness that they were expending their ammunition in vain. When the scow came up over her grapnel, Hutter tripped the latter in a way not to impede the motion; and being now beyond the influence of the current, the vessel continued to drift ahead, until fairly in the open lake, though still near enough to the land to render exposure to a rifle-bullet dangerous. Hutter and March got out two small sweeps and, covered by the cabin, they soon urged the ark far enough from the shore to leave no inducement to their enemies to make any further attempt to injure them.

Chapter V.

“Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play,
For some must watch, while some must sleep, Thus runs the world away.”

Hamlet, III.ii.271-74

Another consultation took place in the forward part of the scow, at which both Judith and Hetty were present. As no danger could now approach unseen, immediate uneasiness had given place to the concern which attended the conviction that enemies were in considerable force on the shores of the lake, and that they might be sure no practicable means of accomplishing their own destruction would be neglected. As a matter of course Hutter felt these truths the deepest, his daughters having an habitual reliance on his resources, and knowing too little to appreciate fully all the risks they ran; while his male companions were at liberty to quit him at any moment they saw fit. His first remark showed that he had an eye to the latter circumstance, and might have betrayed, to a keen observer, the apprehension that was just then uppermost.

“We’ve a great advantage over the Iroquois, or the enemy, whoever they are, in being afloat,” he said.

“There’s not a canoe on the lake that I don’t know where it’s hid; and now yours is here. Hurry, there are but three more on the land, and they’re so snug in hollow logs that I don’t believe the Indians could find them, let them try ever so long.”

“There’s no telling that- no one can say that,” put in Deerslayer; “a hound is not more sartain on the scent than a red-skin, when he expects to get anything by it. Let this party see scalps afore ’em, or plunder, or honor accordin’ to their idees of what honor is, and ‘t will be a tight log that hides a canoe from their eyes.”

“You’re right, Deerslayer,” cried Harry March; “you’re downright Gospel in this matter, and I rej’ice that my bunch of bark is safe enough here, within reach of my arm. I calcilate they’ll be at all the rest of the canoes afore to-morrow night, if they are in ra’al ‘arnest to smoke you out, old Tom, and we may as well overhaul our paddles for a pull.”

Hutter made no immediate reply. He looked about him in silence for quite a minute, examining the sky, the lake, and the belt of forest which inclosed it, as it might be hermetically, like one consulting their signs. Nor did he find any alarming symptoms. The boundless woods were sleeping in the deep repose of nature, the heavens were placid, but still luminous with the light of the retreating sun, while the lake looked more lovely and calm than it had before done that day. It was a scene altogether soothing, and of a character to lull the passions into a species of holy calm. How far this effect was produced, however, on the party in the ark, must appear in the progress of our narrative.

“Judith,” called out the father, when he had taken this close but short survey of the omens, “night is at hand; find our friends food; a long march gives a sharp appetite.”

“We’re not starving, Master Hutter,” March observed, “for we filled up just as we reached the lake, and for one, I prefer the company of Jude even to her supper. This quiet evening is very agreeable to sit by her side.”

“Natur’ is natur’,” objected Hutter, “and must be fed. Judith, see to the meal, and take your sister to help you. I’ve a little discourse to hold with you, friends,” he continued, as soon as his daughters were out of hearing, “and wish the girls away. You see my situation, and I should like to hear your opinions concerning what is best to be done. Three times have I been burnt out already, but that was on the shore; and I’ve considered myself as pretty safe ever since I got the castle built, and the ark afloat. My other accidents, however, happened in peaceable times, being nothing more than such flurries as a man must meet with, in the woods; but this matter looks serious, and your ideas would greatly relieve my mind.”

“It’s my notion, old Tom, that you, and your huts, and your traps, and your whole possessions, hereaway, are in desperate jippardy,” returned the matter-of-fact Hurry, who saw no use in concealment. “Accordin’ to my idees of valie, they’re altogether not worth half as much today as they was yesterday, nor would I give more for ’em, taking the pay in skins.”

“Then I’ve children!” continued the father, making the allusion in a way that it might have puzzled even an indifferent observer to say was intended as a bait, or as an exclamation of paternal concern, “daughters, as you know, Hurry, and good girls too, I may say, though I am their father.”

“A man may say anything, Master Hutter, particularly when pressed by time and circumstances. You’ve darters, as you say, and one of them hasn’t her equal on the frontiers for good looks, whatever she may have for good behavior. As for poor Hetty, she’s Hetty Hutter, and that’s as much as one can say about the poor thing. Give me Jude, if her conduct was only equal to her looks!”

“I see, Harry March, I can only count on you as a fair-weather friend; and I suppose that your companion will be of the same way of thinking,” returned the other, with a slight show of pride, that was not altogether without dignity; “well, I must depend on Providence, which will not turn a deaf ear, perhaps, to a father’s prayers.”

“If you’ve understood Hurry, here, to mean that he intends to desart you,” said Deerslayer, with an earnest simplicity that gave double assurance of its truth, “I think you do him injustice, as I know you do me, in supposing I would follow him, was he so ontrue-hearted as to leave a family of his own color in such a strait as this. I’ve come on this at take, Master Hutter, to rende’vous a fri’nd, and I only wish he was here himself, as I make no doubt he will be at sunset tomorrow, when you’d have another rifle to aid you; an inexper’enced one, I’ll allow, like my own, but one that has proved true so often ag’in the game, big and little, that I’ll answer for its sarvice ag’in mortals.”

May I depend on you to stand by me and my daughters, then, Deerslayer?” demanded the old man, with a father’s anxiety in his countenance.

“That may you, Floating Tom, if that’s your name; and as a brother would stand by a sister, a husband his wife, or a suitor his sweetheart. In this strait you may count on me, through all advarsities; and I think Hurry does discredit to his natur’ and wishes, if you can’t count on him.”

“Not he,” cried Judith, thrusting her handsome face out of the door; “his nature is hurry, as well as his name, and he’ll hurry off, as soon as he thinks his fine figure in danger. Neither ‘old Tom,’ nor his ‘gals,’ will depend much on Master March, now they know him, but you they will rely on, Deerslayer; for your honest face and honest heart tell us that what you promise you will perform.”

This was said, as much, perhaps, in affected scorn for Hurry, as in sincerity. Still, it was not said without feeling. The fine face of Judith sufficiently proved the latter circumstance; and if the conscious March fancied that he had never seen in it a stronger display of contempt- a feeling in which the beauty was apt to indulge- than while she was looking at him, it certainly seldom exhibited more of a womanly softness and sensibility, than when her speaking blue eyes were turned on his travelling companion.

“Leave us, Judith,” Hutter ordered sternly, before either of the young men could reply; “leave us; and do not return until you come with the venison and fish. The girl has been spoilt by the flattery of the officers, who sometimes find their way up here, Master March, and you’ll not think any harm of her silly words.”

“You never said truer syllable, old Tom,” retorted Hurry, who smarted under Judith’s observations; “the devil-tongued youngsters of the garrison have proved her undoing! I scarce know Jude any longer, and shall soon take to admiring her sister, who is getting to be much more to my fancy.”

“I’m glad to hear this, Harry, and look upon it as a sign that you’re coming to your right senses. Hetty would make a much safer and more rational companion than Jude, and would be much the most likely to listen to your suit, as the officers have, I greatly fear, unsettled her sister’s mind.”

“No man needs a safer wife than Hetty,” said Hurry, laughing, “though I’ll not answer for her being of the most rational. But no matter; Deerslayer has not misconceived me, when he told you I should be found at my post. I’ll not quit you, Uncle Tom, just now, whatever may be my feelin’s and intentions respecting your eldest darter.”

Hurry had a respectable reputation for prowess among his associates, and Hutter heard this pledge with a satisfaction that was not concealed. Even the great personal strength of such an aid became of moment, in moving the ark, as well as in the species of hand-to-hand conflicts, that were not unfrequent in the woods; and no commander who was hard pressed could feel more joy at hearing of the arrival of reinforcements, than the borderer experienced at being told this important auxiliary was not about to quit him. A minute before, Hutter would have been well content to compromise his danger, by entering into a compact to act only on the defensive; but no sooner did he feel some security on this point, than the restlessness of man induced him to think of the means of carrying the war into the enemy’s country.

“High prices are offered for scalps on both sides.” he observed, with a grim smile, as if he felt the force of the inducement, at the very time he wished to affect a superiority to earning money by means that the ordinary feelings of those who aspire to be civilized men repudiated, even while they were adopted. “It isn’t right, perhaps, to take gold for human blood; and yet, when mankind is busy in killing one another, there can be no great harm in adding a little bit of skin to the plunder. What’s your sentiments, Hurry, touching these p’ints?”

“That you’ve made a vast mistake, old man, in calling savage blood human blood, at all. I think no more of a red-skin’s scalp than I do of a pair of wolf’s ears; and would just as lief finger money for the one as for the other. With white people ‘t is different, for they’ve a nat’ral avarsion to being scalped; whereas your Indian shaves his head in readiness for the knife, and leaves a lock of hair by way of braggadocio, that one can lay hold of in the bargain.”

“That’s manly, however, and I felt from the first that we had only to get you on our side, to have your heart and hand,” returned Tom, losing all his reserve, as he gained a renewed confidence in the disposition of his companions. “Something more may turn up from this inroad of the red-skins than they bargained for. Deerslayer, I conclude you’re of Hurry’s way of thinking, and look upon money ‘arned in this way as being as likely to pass as money ‘arned in trapping or hunting.”

“I’ve no such feelin’, nor any wish to harbor it, not I,” returned the other. “My gifts are not scalpers’ gifts, but such as belong to my religion and color. I’ll stand by you, old man, in the ark or in the castle, the canoe or the woods, but I’ll not unhumanize my natur’ by falling into ways that God intended for another race. If you and Hurry have got any thoughts that lean towards the colony’s gold, go by yourselves in s’arch of it, and leave the females to my care. Much as I must differ from you both on all gifts that do not properly belong to a white man, we shall agree that it is the duty of the strong to take care of the weak, especially when the last belong to them that natur’ intended man to protect and console by his gentleness and strength.”

“Hurry Harry, that is a lesson you might learn and practise on to some advantage,” said the sweet, but spirited voice of Judith, from the cabin; a proof that she had over-heard all that had hitherto been said.

“No more of this, Jude,” called out the father angrily. “Move farther off; we are about to talk of matters unfit for a woman to listen to.”

Hutter did not take any steps, however, to ascertain whether he was obeyed or not; but dropping his voice a little, he pursued the discourse.

“The young man is right, Hurry,” he said; “and we can leave the children in his care. Now, my idea is just this; and I think you’ll agree that it is rational and correct. There’s a large party of these savages on shore and, though I didn’t tell it before the girls, for they’re womanish, and apt to be troublesome when anything like real work is to be done, there’s women among ’em. This I know from moccasin prints; and ‘t is likely they are hunters, after all, who have been out so long that they know nothing of the war, or of the bounties.”

“In which case, old Tom, why was their first salute an attempt to cut our throats?”

“We don’t know that their design was so bloody. It’s natural and easy for an Indian to fall into ambushes and surprises; and, no doubt they wished to get on board the ark first, and to make their conditions afterwards. That a disapp’inted savage should fire at us, is in rule; and I think nothing of that. Besides, how often they burned me out, and robbed my traps- ay, and pulled trigger on me, in the most peaceful times?”

“The blackguards will do such things, I must allow; and we pay ’em off pretty much in their own c’ine. Women would not be on the war-path, sartainly; and, so far, there’s reason in your idee.”

“Nor would a hunter be in his war-paint,” returned Deerslayer. “I saw the Mingos, and know that they are out on the trail of mortal men; and not for beaver or deer.”

“There you have it ag’in, old fellow,” said Hurry. “In the way of an eye, now, I’d as soon trust this young man, as trust the oldest settler in the colony; if he says paint, why paint it was.”

“Then a hunting-party and a war-party have met, for women must have been with ’em. It’s only a few days since the runner went through with the tidings of the troubles; and it may be that warriors have come out to call in their women and children, to get an early blow.”

“That would stand the courts, and is just the truth,” cried Hurry; “you’ve got it now, old Tom, and I should like to hear what you mean to make out of it.”

“The bounty,” returned the other, looking up at his attentive companion in a cool, sullen manner, in which, however, heartless cupidity and indifference to the means were far more conspicuous than any feelings of animosity or revenge.

“If there’s women, there’s children; and big and little have scalps; the colony pays for all alike.”

“More shame to it, that it should do so,” interrupted Deerslayer; “more shame to it, that it don’t understand its gifts, and pay greater attention to the will of God.”

“Hearken to reason, lad, and don’t cry out afore you understand a case,” returned the unmoved Hurry; “the savages scalp your fri’nds, the Delawares, or Mohicans whichever they may be, among the rest; and why shouldn’t we scalp? I will own, it would be ag’in right for you and me now, to go into the settlements and bring out scalps, but it’s a very different matter as concerns Indians. A man shouldn’t take scalps, if he isn’t ready to be scalped, himself, on fitting occasions. One good turn desarves another, the world over. That’s reason, and I believe it to be good religion.”

“Ay, Master Hurry,” again interrupted the rich voice of Judith, “is it religion to say that one bad turn deserves another?”

“I’ll never reason ag’in you, Judy, for you beat me with beauty, if you can’t with sense. Here’s the Canadas paying their Injins for scalps, and why not we pay-“

“Our Indians!” exclaimed the girl, laughing with a sort of melancholy merriment. “Father, father! think no more of this, and listen to the advice of Deerslayer, who has a conscience; which is more than I can say or think of Harry March.”

Hutter now rose, and, entering the cabin, he compelled his daughters to go into the adjoining room, when he secured both the doors, and returned. Then he and Hurry pursued the subject; but, as the purport of all that was material in this discourse will appear in the narrative, it need not be related here in detail. The reader, however, can have no difficulty in comprehending the morality that presided over their conference. It was, in truth, that which, in some form or other, rules most of the acts of men, and in which the controlling principle is that one wrong will justify another. Their enemies paid for scalps, and this was sufficient to justify the colony for retaliating. It is true, the French used the same argument, a circumstance, as Hurry took occasion to observe in answer to one of Deerslayer’s objections, that proved its truth, as mortal enemies would not be likely to have recourse to the same reason unless it were a good one. But neither Hutter nor Hurry was a man likely to stick at trifles in matters connected with the right of the aborigines, since it is one of the consequences of aggression that it hardens the conscience, as the only means of quieting it. In the most peaceable state of the country, a species of warfare was carried on between the Indians, especially those of the Canadas, and men of their caste; and the moment an actual and recognized warfare existed, it was regarded as the means of lawfully revenging a thousand wrongs, real and imaginary. Then, again, there was some truth, and a good deal of expediency, in the principle of retaliation, of which they both availed themselves, in particular, to answer the objections of their juster-minded and more scrupulous companion.

“You must fight a man with his own we’pons, Deerslayer,” cried Hurry, in his uncouth dialect, and in his dogmatical manner of disposing of all oral propositions; “if he’s f’erce you must be f’ercer; if he’s stout of heart, you must be stouter. This is the way to get the better of Christian or savage: by keeping up to this trail, you’ll get soonest to the ind of your journey.”

“That’s not Moravian doctrine, which teaches that all are to be judged according to their talents or l’arning; the Injin like an Injin; and the white man like a white man. Some of their teachers say, that if you’re struck on the cheek, it’s a duty to turn the other side of the face, and take another blow, instead of seeking revenge, whereby I understand-“

“That’s enough!” shouted Hurry; “that’s all I want, to prove a man’s doctrine! How long would it take to kick a man through the colony- in at one ind and out at the other, on that principle?”

“Don’t mistake me, March,” returned the young hunter, with dignity; “I don’t understand by this any more than that it’s best to do this, if possible. Revenge is an Injin gift, and forgiveness a white man’s. That’s all. Overlook all you can is what’s meant; and not revenge all you can. As for kicking, Master Hurry,” and Deerslayer’s sunburnt cheek flushed as he continued, “into the colony, or out of the colony, that’s neither here nor there, seeing no one proposes it, and no one would be likely to put up with it. What I wish to say is, that a red-skin’s scalping don’t justify a pale-face’s scalping.”

“Do as you’re done by, Deerslayer; that’s ever the Christian parson’s doctrine.”

“No, Hurry, I’ve asked the Moravians consarning that; and it’s altogether different. ‘Do as you would be done by,’ they tell me, is the true saying, while men practyse the false. They think all the colonies wrong that offer bounties for scalps, and believe no blessing will follow the measures. Above all things, they forbid revenge.”

“That for your Moravians!” cried March, snapping his fingers; “they’re the next thing to Quakers; and if you’d believe all they tell you, not even a ‘rat would be skinned, out of marcy. Who ever heard of marcy on a muskrat!”

The disdainful manner of Hurry prevented a reply, and he and the old man resumed the discussion of their plans in a more quiet and confidential manner. This confidence lasted until Judith appeared, bearing the simple but savory supper. March observed, with a little surprise, that she placed the choicest bits before Deerslayer, and that in the little nameless attentions it was in her power to bestow, she quite obviously manifested a desire to let it be seen that she deemed him the honored guest. Accustomed, however, to the waywardness and coquetry of the beauty, this discovery gave him little concern, and he ate with an appetite that was in no degree disturbed by any moral causes. The easily-digested food of the forests offering the fewest possible obstacles to the gratification of this great animal indulgence, Deerslayer, notwithstanding the hearty meal both had taken in the woods, was in no manner behind his companion in doing justice to the viands.

An hour later the scene had greatly changed. The lake was still placid and glassy, but the gloom of the hour had succeeded to the soft twilight of a summer evening, and all within the dark setting of the woods lay in the quiet repose of night. The forests gave up no song, or cry, or even murmur, but looked down from the hills on the lovely basin they encircled, in solemn stillness; and the only sound that was audible was the regular dip of the sweeps, at which Hurry and Deerslayer lazily pushed, impelling the ark towards the castle. Hutter had withdrawn to the stern of the scow, in order to steer, but, finding that the young men kept even strokes, and held the desired course by their own skill, he permitted the oar to drag in the water, took a seat on the end of the vessel, and lighted his pipe. He had not been thus placed many minutes, ere Hetty came stealthily out of the cabin, or house, as they usually termed that part of the ark, and placed herself at his feet, on a little bench that she brought with her. As this movement was by no means unusual in his feeble-minded child, the old man paid no other attention to it than to lay his hand kindly on her head, in an affectionate and approving manner; an act of grace that the girl received in meek silence.

After a pause of several minutes, Hetty began to sing. Her voice was low and tremulous, but it was earnest and solemn. The words and the tune were of the simplest form, the first being a hymn that she had been taught by her mother, and the last one of those natural melodies that find favor with all classes, in every age, coming from and being addressed to the feelings. Hutter never listened to this simple strain without finding his heart and manner softened; facts that his daughter well knew, and by which she had often profited, through the sort of holy instinct that enlightens the weak of mind, more especially in their aims toward good.

Hetty’s low, sweet tones had not been raised many moments, when the dip of the oars ceased, and the holy strain arose singly on the breathing silence of the wilderness. As if she gathered courage with the theme, her powers appeared to increase as she proceeded; and though nothing vulgar or noisy mingled in her melody, its strength and melancholy tenderness grew on the ear, until the air was filled with this simple homage of a soul that seemed almost spotless. That the men forward were not indifferent to this touching interruption, was proved by their inaction; nor did their oars again dip until the last of the sweet sounds had actually died among the remarkable shores, which, at that witching hour, would waft even the lowest modulations of the human voice more than a mile. Hutter was much affected; for rude as he was by early habits, and even ruthless as he had got to be by long exposure to the practices of the wilderness, his nature was of that fearful mixture of good and evil that so generally enters into the moral composition of man.

“You are sad tonight, child,” said the father, whose manner and language usually assumed some of the gentleness and elevation of the civilized life he had led in youth, when he thus communed with this particular child; “we have just escaped from enemies, and ought rather to rejoice.”

“You can never do it, father!” said Hetty, in a low, remonstrating manner, taking his hard, knotty hand into both her own; “you have talked long with Harry March; but neither of you have the heart to do it!”

“This is going beyond your means, foolish child; you must have been naughty enough to have listened, or you could know nothing of our talk.”

“Why should you and Hurry kill people- especially women and children?”

“Peace, girl, peace; we are at war, and must do to our enemies as our enemies would do to us.”

“That’s not it, father! I heard Deerslayer say how it was. You must do to your enemies as you wish your enemies would do to you. No man wishes his enemies to kill him.”

“We kill our enemies in war, girl, lest they should kill us. One side or the other must begin; and them that begin first, are most apt to get the victory. You know nothing about these things, poor Hetty, and had best say nothing.”

“Judith says it is wrong, father; and Judith has sense though I have none.”

“Jude understands better than to talk to me of these matters; for she has sense, as you say, and knows I’ll not bear it. Which would you prefer, Hetty; to have your own scalp taken, and sold to the French, or that we should kill our enemies, and keep them from harming us?”

“That’s not it, father! Don’t kill them, nor let them kill us. Sell your skins, and get more, if you can; but don’t sell human blood.”

“Come, come, child; let us talk of matters you understand. Are you glad to see our old friend, March, back again? You like Hurry, and must know that one day he may be your brother- if not something nearer.”

“That can’t be, father,” returned the girl, after a considerable pause; “Hurry has had one father, and one mother; and people never have two.”

“So much for your weak mind, Hetty. When Jude marries, her husband’s father will be her father, and her husband’s sister her sister. If she should marry Hurry, then he will be your brother.”

“Judith will never have Hurry,” returned the girl mildly, but positively; “Judith don’t like Hurry.”

“That’s more than you can know, Hetty. Harry March is the handsomest, and the strongest, and the boldest young man that ever visits the lake; and, as Jude is the greatest beauty, I don’t see why they shouldn’t come together. He has as much as promised that he will enter into this job with me, on condition that I’ll consent.”

Hetty began to move her body back and forth, and other-wise to express mental agitation; but she made no answer for more than a minute. Her father, accustomed to her manner, and suspecting no immediate cause of concern, continued to smoke with the apparent phlegm which would seem to belong to that particular species of enjoyment.

“Hurry is handsome, father,” said Hetty, with a simple emphasis, that she might have hesitated about using, had her mind been more alive to the inferences of others.

“I told you so, child,” muttered old Hutter, without removing the pipe from between his teeth; “he’s the likeliest youth in these parts; and Jude is the likeliest young woman I’ve met with since her poor mother was in her best days.”

“Is it wicked to be ugly, father?'”

“One might be guilty of worse things- but you’re by no means ugly; though not so comely as Jude.”

“Is Judith any happier for being so handsome?”

“She may be, child, and she may not be. But talk of other matters now, for you hardly understand these, poor Hetty. How do you like our new acquaintance, Deerslayer?”

“He isn’t handsome, father. Hurry is far handsomer than Deerslayer.”

“That’s true; but they say he is a noted hunter! His fame had reached me before I ever saw him; and I did hope he would prove to be as stout a warrior as he is dexterous with the deer. All men are not alike, howsever, child; and it takes time, as I know by experience, to give a man a true wilderness heart.”

“Have I got a wilderness heart, father- and Hurry, is his heart true wilderness?”

“You sometimes ask queer questions, Hetty! Your heart is good, child, and fitter for the settlements than for the woods; while your reason is fitter for the woods than for the settlements.”

“Why has Judith more reason than I, father?”

“Heaven help thee, child: this is more than I can answer. God gives sense, and appearance, and all these things; and he grants them as he seeth fit. Dost thou wish for more sense?”

“Not I. The little I have troubles me; for when I think the hardest, then I feel the unhappiest. I don’t believe thinking is good for me, though I do wish I was as handsome as Judith!”

“Why so, poor child? Thy sister’s beauty may cause her trouble, as it caused her mother before her. It’s no advantage, Hetty, to be so marked for anything as to become an object of envy, or to be sought after more than others.”

“Mother was good, if she was handsome,” returned the girl, the tears starting to her eyes, as usually happened when she adverted to her deceased parent.

Old Hutter, if not equally affected, was moody and silent at this allusion to his wife. He continued smoking, without appearing disposed to make any answer, until his simple-minded daughter repeated her remark, in a way to show that she felt uneasiness lest he might be inclined to deny her assertion. Then he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and laying his hand in a sort of rough kindness on the girl’s head, he made a reply.

“Thy mother was too good for this world,” he said; “though others might not think so. Her good looks did not befriend her; and you have no occasion to mourn that you are not as much like her as your sister. Think less of beauty, child, and more of your duty, and you’ll be as happy on this lake as you could be in the king’s palace.”

“I know it, father; but Hurry says beauty is everything in a young woman.”

Hutter made an ejaculation expressive of dissatisfaction, and went forward, passing through the house in order to do so. Hetty’s simple betrayal of her weakness in behalf of March gave him uneasiness on a subject concerning which he had never felt before, and he determined to come to an explanation at once with his visitor; for directness of speech and decision in conduct were two of the best qualities of this rude being, in whom the seeds of a better education seemed to be constantly struggling upwards, to be choked by the fruits of a life in which his hard struggles for subsistence and security had steeled his feelings and indurated his nature. When he reached the forward end of the scow, he manifested an intention to relieve Deerslayer at the oar, directing the latter to take his own place aft. By these changes, the old man and Hurry were again left alone, while the young hunter was transferred to the other end of the ark.

Hetty had disappeared when Deerslayer reached his new post, and for some little time he directed the course of the slow-moving craft by himself. It was not long, however, before Judith came out of the cabin, as if disposed to do the honors of the place to a stranger engaged in the service of her family. The starlight was sufficient to permit objects to be plainly distinguished when near at hand, and the bright eyes of the girl had an expression of kindness in them, when they met those of the youth, that the latter was easily enabled to discover. Her rich hair shaded her spirited and yet soft countenance, even at that hour rendering it the more beautiful-as the rose is loveliest when reposing amid the shadows and contrasts of its native foliage. Little ceremony is used in the intercourse of the woods; and Judith had acquired a readiness of address, by the admiration that she so generally excited, which, if it did not amount to forwardness, certainly in no degree lent to her charms the aid of that retiring modesty on which poets love to dwell.

“I thought I should have killed myself with laughing, Deerslayer,” the beauty abruptly but coquettishly commenced, “when I saw that Indian dive into the river! He was a good-looking savage, too,” the girl always dwelt on personal beauty as a sort of merit, “and yet one couldn’t stop to consider whether his paint would stand water!”

“And I thought they would have killed you with their we’pons, Judith,” returned Deerslayer; “it was an awful risk for a female to run in the face of a dozen Mingos!”

“Did that make you come out of the cabin, in spite of their rifles, too?” asked the girl, with more real interest than she would have cared to betray, though with an indifference of manner that was the result of a good deal of practice united to native readiness.

“Men ar’n’t apt to see females in danger, and not come to their assistance. Even a Mingo knows that.”

This sentiment was uttered with as much simplicity of manner as of feeling, and Judith rewarded it with a smile so sweet, that even Deerslayer, who had imbibed a prejudice against the girl in consequence of Hurry’s suspicions of her levity, felt its charm, notwithstanding half its winning influence was lost in the feeble light. It at once created a sort of confidence between them, and the discourse was continued on the part of the hunter, without the lively consciousness of the character of this coquette of the wilderness, with which it had certainly commenced.

“You are a man of deeds, and not of words, I see plainly, Deerslayer,” continued the beauty, taking her seat near the spot where the other stood, “and I foresee we shall be very good friends. Hurry Harry has a tongue, and, giant as he is, he talks more than he performs.”

“March is your fri’nd, Judith; and fri’nds should be tender of each other, when apart.”

“We all know what Hurry’s friendship comes to! Let him have his own way in everything, and he’s the best fellow in the colony; but ‘head him off,’ as you say of the deer, and he is master of everything near him but himself. Hurry is no favorite of mine, Deerslayer; and I dare say, if the truth was known, and his conversation about me repeated, it would be found that he thinks no better of me than I own I do of him.”

The latter part of this speech was not uttered without uneasiness. Had the girl’s companion been more sophisticated, he might have observed the averted face, the manner in which the pretty little foot was agitated, and other signs that, for some unexplained reason, the opinions of March were not quite as much a matter of indifference to her as she thought fit to pretend. Whether this was no more than the ordinary working of female vanity, feeling keenly even when it affected not to feel at all, or whether it proceeded from that deeply-seated consciousness of right and wrong which God himself has implanted in our breasts that we may know good from evil, will be made more apparent to the reader as we proceed in the tale. Deerslayer felt embarrassed. He well remembered the cruel imputations left by March’s distrust; and, while he did not wish to injure his associate’s suit by exciting resentment against him, his tongue was one that literally knew no guile. To answer without saying more or less than he wished, was consequently a delicate duty.

“March has his say of all things in natur’, whether of fri’nd or foe,” slowly and cautiously rejoined the hunter. “He’s one of them that speak as they feel while the tongue’s a-going, and that’s sometimes different from what they’d speak if they took time to consider. Give me a Delaware, Judith, for one that reflects and ruminates on his idees! Inmity has made him thoughtful, and a loose tongue is no ricommend at their council fires.”

“I dare say March’s tongue goes free enough when it gets on the subject of Judith Hutter and her sister,” said the girl, rousing herself as if in careless disdain. “Young women’s good names are a pleasant matter of discourse with some that wouldn’t dare be so open-mouthed if there was a brother in the way. Master March may find it pleasant to traduce us, but sooner or later he’ll repent.

“Nay, Judith, this is taking the matter up too much in ‘arnest. Hurry has never whispered a syllable ag’in the good name of Hetty, to begin with-“

“I see how it is- I see how it is,” impetuously interrupted Judith. “I am the one he sees fit to scorch with his withering tongue! Hetty, indeed! Poor Hetty!” she continued, her voice sinking into low, husky tones, that seemed nearly to stifle her in the utterance; “she is beyond and above his slanderous malice! Poor Hetty! If God has created her feeble-minded, the weakness lies altogether on the side of errors of which she seems to know nothing. The earth never held a purer being than Hetty Hutter, Deerslayer.”

“I can believe it- yes, I can believe that, Judith, and I hope ‘arnestly that the same can be said of her handsome sister.”

There was a soothing sincerity in the voice of Deerslayer, which touched the girl’s feelings; nor did the allusion to her beauty lessen the effect with one who only knew too well the power of her personal charms. Nevertheless, the still, small voice of conscience was not hushed, and it prompted the answer which she made, after giving herself time to reflect.

“I dare say Hurry had some of his vile hints about the people of the garrisons,” she added. “He knows they are gentlemen, and can never forgive any one for being what he feels he can never become himself.”

“Not in the sense of a king’s officer, Judith, sartainly, for March has no turn thataway; but in the sense of reality, why may not a beaver-hunter be as respectable as a governor? Since you speak of it yourself, I’ll not deny that he did complain of one as humble as you being so much in the company of scarlet coats and silken sashes. But ‘t was jealousy that brought it out of him, and I do think he mourned over his own thoughts as a mother would have mourned over her child.”

Perhaps Deerslayer was not aware of the full meaning that his earnest language conveyed. It is certain that he did not see the color that crimsoned the whole of Judith’s fine face, nor detect the uncontrollable distress that immediately after changed its hue to deadly paleness. A minute or two elapsed in profound stillness, the splash of the water seeming to occupy all the avenues of sound; and then Judith arose, and grasped the hand of the hunter, almost convulsively, with one of her own.

“Deerslayer,” she said, hurriedly, “I’m glad the ice is broke between us. They say that sudden friendships lead to long enmities, but I do not believe it will turn out so with us. I know not how it is-but you are the first man I ever met, who did not seem to wish to flatter- to wish my ruin- to be an enemy in disguise- never mind; say nothing to Hurry, and another time we’ll talk together again.”

As the girl released her grasp, she vanished in the house, leaving the astonished young man standing at the steering-oar, as motionless as one of the pines on the hills. So abstracted, indeed, had his thoughts become, that he was hailed by Hutter to keep the scow’s head in the right direction, before he remembered his actual situation.

Chapter VI.

“So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair.’

Paradise lost, I. 125-26.

Shortly after the disappearance of Judith, a light southerly air arose, and Hutter set a large square sail, that had once been the flying top-sail of an Albany sloop, but which having become threadbare in catching the breezes of Tappan, had been condemned and sold. He had a light, tough spar of tamarack that he could raise on occasion, and with a little contrivance, his duck was spread to the wind in a sufficiently professional manner. The effect on the ark was such as to supersede the necessity of rowing; and in about two hours the castle was seen, in the darkness, rising out of the water, at the distance of a hundred yards. The sail was then lowered, and by slow degrees the scow drifted up to the building, and was secured.

No one had visited the house since Hurry and his companion left it. The place was found in the quiet of midnight, a sort of type of the solitude of a wilderness. As an enemy was known to be near, Hutter directed his daughters to abstain from the use of lights, luxuries in which they seldom indulged during the warm months, lest they might prove beacons to direct their foes where they might be found.

“In open daylight I shouldn’t fear a host of savages behind these stout logs, and they without any cover to skulk into,” added Hutter, when he had explained to his guests the reasons why he forbade the use of light; “for I’ve three or four trusty weapons always loaded, and Killdeer, in particular, is a piece that never misses. But it’s a different thing at night. A canoe might get upon us unseen, in the dark; and the savages have so many cunning ways of attacking, that I look upon it as bad enough to deal with ’em under a bright sun. I built this dwelling in order to have ’em at arm’s length, in case we should ever get to blows again. Some people think it’s too open and exposed, but I’m for anchoring out here, clear of underbrush and thickets, as the surest means of making a safe berth.”

“You was once a sailor, they tell me, old Tom?” said Hurry, in his abrupt manner, struck by one or two expressions that the other had just used, “and some people believe you could give us strange accounts of inimies and shipwrecks, if you’d a mind to come out with all you know?”

“There are people in this world, Hurry,” returned the other, evasively, “who live on other men’s thoughts; and some such often find their way into the woods. What I’ve been, or what I’ve seen in youth, is of less matter now than what the savages are. It’s of more account to find out what will happen in the next twenty-four hours than to talk over what happened twenty-four years since.”

“That’s judgment, Deerslayer; yes, that’s sound judgment. Here’s Judith and Hetty to take care of, to say nothing of our own top-knots; and, for my part, I can sleep as well in the dark as I could under a noonday sun. To me it’s no great matter whether there is light or not, to see to shut my eyes by.”

As Deerslayer seldom thought it necessary to answer his companion’s peculiar vein of humor, and Hutter was evidently indisposed to dwell longer on the subject, it’s discussion ceased with this remark. The latter had something more on his mind, however, than recollections. His daughters had no sooner left them, with an expressed intention of going to bed, than he invited his two companions to follow him again into the scow. Here the old man opened his project, keeping back the portion that he had reserved for execution by Hurry and himself.

“The great object for people posted like ourselves is to command the water,” he commenced. “So long as there is no other craft on the lake, a bark canoe is as good as a man of-war, since the castle will not be easily taken by swimming. Now, there are but five canoes remaining in these parts, two of which are mine, and one is Hurry’s. These three we have with us here; one being fastened in the canoe-dock beneath the house, and the other two being alongside the scow. The other canoes are housed on the shore, in hollow logs, and the savages, who are such venomous enemies, will leave no likely place unexamined in the morning, if they ‘re serious in s’arch of bounties-“

“Now, friend Hutter,” interrupted Hurry, “the Indian don’t live that can find a canoe that is suitably wintered. I’ve done something at this business before now, and Deerslayer here knows that I am one that can hide a craft in such a way that I can’t find it myself.”

“Very true, Hurry,” put in the person to whom the appeal had been made, “but you overlook the sarcumstance that if you couldn’t see the trail of the man who did the job, I could. I’m of Master Hutter’s mind, that it’s far wiser to mistrust a savage’s ingenuity, than to build any great expectations on his want of eye-sight. If these two canoes can be got off to the castle, therefore, the sooner it’s done the better.”

“Will you be of the party that’s to do it?” demanded Hutter, in a way to show that the proposal both surprised and pleased him.

“Sartain. I’m ready to enlist in any enterprise that’s not ag’in a white man’s lawful gifts. Natur’ orders us to defend our lives, and the lives of others, too, when there’s occasion and opportunity. I’ll follow you, Floating Tom, into the Mingo camp, on such an arr’nd, and will strive to do my duty, should we come to blows; though, never having been tried in battle, I don’t like to promise more than I may be able to perform. We all know our wishes, but none know their might till put to the proof.”

“That’s modest and suitable, lad,” exclaimed Hurry. “You’ve never yet heard the crack of an angry rifle; and, let me tell you, ’tis as different from the persuasion of one of your venison speeches, as the laugh of Judith Hutter, in her best humor, is from the scolding of a Dutch house keeper on the Mohawk. I don’t expect you’ll prove much of a warrior, Deerslayer, though your equal with the bucks and the does don’t exist in all these parts. As for the ra’al sarvice, however, you’ll turn out rather rearward, according to my consait.”

“We’ll see, Hurry, we’ll see,” returned the other, meekly; so far as human eye could discover, not at all disturbed by these expressed doubts concerning his conduct on a point on which men are sensitive, precisely in the degree that they feel the consciousness of demerit; “having never been tried, I’ll wait to know, before I form any opinion of myself; and then there’ll be sartainty, instead of bragging. I’ve heard of them that was valiant afore the fight, who did little in it; and of them that waited to know their own tempers, and found that they weren’t as bad as some expected, when put to the proof.”

“At any rate, we know you can use a paddle, young man,” said Hutter, “and that’s all we shall ask of you tonight. Let us waste no more time, but get into the canoe, and do, in place of talking.”

As Hutter led the way, in the execution of his project, the boat was soon ready, with Hurry and Deerslayer at the paddles. Before the old man embarked himself, however, he held a conference of several minutes with Judith, entering the house for that purpose; then, returning, he took his place in the canoe, which left the side of the ark at the next instant.

Had there been a temple reared to God, in that solitary wilderness, its clock would have told the hour of midnight as the party set forth on their expedition. The darkness had increased, though the night was still clear, and the light of the stars sufficed for all the purposes of the adventurers. Hutter alone knew the places where the canoes were hid, and he directed the course, while his two athletic companions raised and dipped their paddles with proper caution, lest the sound should be carried to the ears of their enemies, across that sheet of placid water, in the stillness of deep night. But the bark was too light to require any extraordinary efforts, and skill supplying the place of strength, in about half an hour they were approaching the shore, at a point near a league from the castle.

“Lay on your paddles, men,” said Hutter, in a low voice, “and let us look about us for a moment. We must now be all eyes and ears, for these vermin have noses like bloodhounds.”

The shores of the lake were examined closely, in order to discover any glimmering of light that might have been left in a camp; and the men strained their eyes, in the obscurity, to see if some thread of smoke was not still stealing along the mountainside, as it arose from the dying embers of a fire. Nothing unusual could be traced; and as the position was at some distance from the outlet, or the spot where the savages had been met, it was thought safe to land. The paddles were plied again, and the bows of the canoe ground upon the gravelly beach with a gentle motion, and a sound barely audible. Hutter and Hurry immediately landed, the former carrying his own and his friend’s rifle, leaving Deerslayer in charge of the canoe. The hollow log lay a little distance up the side of the mountain, and the old man led the way towards it, using so much caution as to stop at every third or fourth step, to listen if any tread betrayed the presence of a foe. The same death-like stillness, however, reigned on the midnight scene, and the desired place was reached without an occurrence to induce alarm.

“This is it,” whispered Hutter, laying a foot on the trunk of a fallen linden; “hand me the paddles first, and draw the boat out with care, for the wretches may have left it for a bait, after all.”

“Keep my rifle handy, butt towards me, old fellow,” answered March. “If they attack me loaded, I shall want to unload the piece at ’em, at least. And feel if the pan is full.”

“All’s right,” muttered the other; “move slow, when you get your load, and let me lead the way.”

The canoe was drawn out of the log with the utmost care, raised by Hurry to his shoulder, and the two began to return to the shore, moving but a step at a time, lest they should tumble down the steep declivity. The distance was not great, but the descent was extremely difficult; and, towards the end of their little journey, Deerslayer was obliged to land and meet them, in order to aid in lifting the canoe through the bushes. With his assistance the task was successfully accomplished, and the light craft soon floated by the side of the other canoe. This was no sooner done, than all three turned anxiously towards the forest and the mountain, expecting an enemy to break out of the one, or to come rushing down the other. Still the silence was unbroken, and they all embarked with the caution that had been used in coming ashore.

Hutter now steered broad off towards the centre of the lake. Having got a sufficient distance from the shore, he cast his prize loose, knowing that it would drift slowly up the lake before the light southerly air, and intending to find it on his return. Thus relieved of his tow, the old man held his way down the lake, steering towards the very point where Hurry had made his fruitless attempt on the life of the deer. As the distance from this point to the outlet was less than a mile, it was like entering an enemy’s country; and redoubled caution became necessary. They reached the extremity of the point, however, and landed in safety on the little gravelly beach already mentioned. Unlike the last place at which they had gone ashore, here was no acclivity to ascend, the mountains looming up in the darkness quite a quarter of a mile farther west, leaving a margin of level ground between them and the strand. The point itself, though long, and covered with tall trees, was nearly flat, and for some distance only a few yards in width. Hutter and Hurry landed as before, leaving their companion in charge of the boat.

In this instance, the dead tree that contained the canoe of which they had come in quest lay about half-way between the extremity of the narrow slip of land and the place where it joined the main shore; and knowing that there was water so near him on his left, the old man led the way along the eastern side of the belt with some confidence walking boldly, though still with caution. He had landed at the point expressly to get a glimpse into the bay and to make certain that the coast was clear; otherwise he would have come ashore directly abreast of the hollow tree. There was no difficulty in finding the latter, from which the canoe was drawn as before, and instead of carrying it down to the place where Deerslayer lay, it was launched at the nearest favorable spot. As soon as it was in the water, Hurry entered it, and paddled round to the point, whither Hutter also proceeded, following the beach. As the three men had now in their possession all the boats on the lake, their confidence was greatly increased, and there was no longer the same feverish desire to quit the shore, or the same necessity for extreme caution. Their position on the extremity of the long, narrow bit of land added to the feeling of security, as it permitted an enemy to approach in only one direction, that in their front, and under circumstances that would render discovery, with their habitual vigilance, almost certain. The three now landed together, and stood grouped in consultation on the gravelly point.

“We’ve fairly tree’d the scamps,” said Hurry, chuckling at their success; “if they wish to visit the castle, let ’em wade or swim! Old Tom, that idee of your’n, in burrowing out in the lake, was high proof, and carries a fine bead. There be men who would think the land safer than the water; but, after all, reason shows it isn’t; the beaver, and rats, and other l’arned creatur’s taking to the last when hard pressed. I call our position now, entrenched, and set the Canadas at defiance.”

“Let us paddle along this south shore,” said Hutter, “and see if there’s no sign of an encampment; but, first, let me have a better look into the bay, for no one has been far enough round the inner shore of the point to make suit of that quarter yet.”

As Hutter ceased speaking, all three moved in the direction he had named. Scarce had they fairly opened the bottom of the bay, when a general start proved that their eyes had lighted on a common object at the same instant. It was no more than a dying brand, giving out its flickering and failing light; but at that hour, and in that place, it was at once as conspicuous as “a good deed in a naughty world.” There was not a shadow of doubt that this fire had been kindled at an encampment of the Indians. The situation, sheltered from observation on all sides but one, and even on that except for a very short distance, proved that more care had been taken to conceal the spot than would be used for ordinary purposes, and Hutter, who knew that a spring was near at hand, as well as one of the best fishing-stations on the lake, immediately inferred that this encampment contained the women and children of the party.

“That’s not a warrior’s encampment,” he growled to Hurry; “and there’s bounty enough sleeping round that fire to make a heavy division of head-money. Send the lad to the canoes, for there’ll come no good of him in such an onset, and let us take the matter in hand at once, like men.”

“There’s judgment in your notion, old Tom, and I like it to the backbone. Deerslayer, do you get into the canoe, lad, and paddle off into the lake with the spare one, and set it adrift, as we did with the other; after which you can float along shore, as near as you can get to the head of the bay, keeping outside the point, howsever, and outside the rushes, too. You can hear us when we want you; and if there’s any delay, I’ll call like a loon-yes, that’ll do it- the call of a loon shall be the signal. If you hear rifles, and feel like sogering, why, you may close in, and see if you can make the same hand with the savages that you do with the deer.”

“If my wishes could be followed, this matter would not be undertaken, Hurry-“

“Quite true-nobody denies it, boy; but your wishes can’t be followed; and that inds the matter. So just canoe yourself off into the middle of the lake, and by the time you get back there’ll be movements in that camp!”

The young man set about complying with great reluctance and a heavy heart. He knew the prejudices of the frontiermen too well, however, to attempt a remonstrance. The latter, indeed, under the circumstances, might prove dangerous, as it would certainly prove useless. He paddled the canoe, therefore, silently and with the former caution, to a spot near the centre of the placid sheet of water, and set the boat just recovered adrift, to float towards the castle, before the light southerly air. This expedient had been adopted, in both cases, under the certainty that the drift could not carry the light barks more than a league or two, before the return of light, when they might easily be overtaken in order to prevent any wandering savage from using them, by swimming off and getting possession, a possible but scarcely a probable event, all the paddles were retained.

No sooner had he set the recovered canoe adrift, than Deerslayer turned the bows of his own towards the point on the shore that had been indicated by Hurry. So light was the movement of the little craft, and so steady the sweep of its master’s arm, that ten minutes had not elapsed ere it was again approaching the land, having, in that brief time, passed over fully half a mile of distance. As soon as Deerslayer’s eye caught a glimpse of the rushes, of which there were many growing in the water a hundred feet from the shore, he arrested the motion of the canoe, and anchored his boat by holding fast to the delicate but tenacious stem of one of the drooping plants. Here he remained, awaiting, with an intensity of suspense that can be easily imagined, the result of the hazardous enterprise.

It would be difficult to convey to the minds of those who have never witnessed it, the sublimity that characterizes the silence of a solitude as deep as that which now reigned over the Glimmerglass. In the present instance, this sublimity was increased by the gloom of night, which threw its shadowy and fantastic forms around the lake, the forest, and the hills. It is not easy, indeed, to conceive of any place more favorable to heighten these natural impressions, than that Deerslayer now occupied. The size of the lake brought all within the reach of human senses, while it displayed so much of the imposing scene at a single view, giving up, as it might be, at a glance, a sufficiency to produce the deepest impressions. As has been said, this was the first lake Deerslayer had ever seen. Hitherto, his experience had been limited to the courses of rivers and smaller streams, and never before had he seen so much of that wilderness, which he so well loved, spread before his gaze. Accustomed to the forest, however, his mind was capable of portraying all its hidden mysteries, as he looked upon its leafy surface. This was also the first time he had been on a trail where human lives depended on the issue. His ears had often drunk in the traditions of frontier warfare, but he had never yet been confronted with an enemy.

The reader will readily understand, therefore, how intense must have been the expectation of the young man, as be sat in his solitary canoe, endeavoring to catch the smallest sound that might denote the course of things on shore. His training had been perfect, so far as theory could go, and his self-possession, notwithstanding the high excitement, that was the fruit of novelty, would have done credit to a veteran. The visible evidences of the existence of the camp, or of the fire could not be detected from the spot where the canoe lay, and he was compelled to depend on the sense of hearing alone. He did not feel impatient, for the lessons he had heard taught him the virtue of patience, and, most of all, inculcated the necessity of wariness in conducting any covert assault on the Indians. Once he thought he heard the cracking of a dried twig, but expectation was so intense it might mislead him. In this manner minute after minute passed, until the whole time since he left his companions was extended to quite an hour. Deerslayer knew not whether to rejoice in or to mourn over this cautious delay, for, if it augured security to his associates, it foretold destruction to the feeble and innocent.

It might have been an hour and a half after his companions and he had parted, when Deerslayer was aroused by a sound that filled him equally with concern and surprise. The quavering call of a loon arose from the opposite side of the lake, evidently at no great distance from its outlet. There was no mistaking the note of this bird, which is so familiar to all who know the sounds of the American lakes. Shrill, tremulous, loud, and sufficiently prolonged, it seems the very cry of warning. It is often raised, also, at night, an exception to the habits of most of the other feathered inmates of the wilderness; a circumstance which had induced Hurry to select it as his own signal. There had been sufficient time, certainly, for the two adventurers to make their way by land from the point where they had been left to that whence the call had come, but it was not probable that they would adopt such a course. Had the camp been deserted they would have summoned Deerslayer to the shore, and, did it prove to be peopled, there could be no sufficient motive for circling it, in order to re-embark at so great a distance. Should he obey the signal, and be drawn away from the landing, the lives of those who depended on him might be the forfeit- and, should he neglect the call, on the supposition that it had been really made, the consequences might be equally disastrous, though from a different cause. In this indecision he waited, trusting that the call, whether feigned or natural, would be speedily renewed. Nor was he mistaken. A very few minutes elapsed before the same shrill warning cry was repeated, and from the same part of the lake. This time, being on the alert, his senses were not deceived. Although he had often heard admirable imitations of this bird, and was no mean adept himself in raising its notes, he felt satisfied that Hurry, to whose efforts in that way he had attended, could never so completely and closely follow nature. He determined, therefore, to disregard that cry, and to wait for one less perfect and nearer at hand.

Deerslayer had hardly come to this determination, when the profound stillness of night and solitude was broken by a cry so startling, as to drive all recollection of the more melancholy call of the loon from the listener’s mind. It was a shriek of agony, that came either from one of the female sex, or from a boy so young as not yet to have attained a manly voice. This appeal could not be mistaken. Heart rending terror- if not writhing agony- was in the sounds, and the anguish that had awakened them was as sudden as it was fearful. The young man released his hold of the rush, and dashed his paddle into the water; to do, he knew not what- to steer, he knew not whither. A very few moments, however, removed his indecision. The breaking of branches, the cracking of dried sticks, and the fall of feet were distinctly audible; the sounds appearing to approach the water though in a direction that led diagonally towards the shore, and a little farther north than the spot that Deerslayer had been ordered to keep near. Following this clue, the young man urged the canoe ahead, paying but little attention to the manner in which he might betray its presence. He had reached a part of the shore, where its immediate bank was tolerably high and quite steep. Men were evidently threshing through the bushes and trees on the summit of this bank, following the line of the shore, as if those who fled sought a favorable place for descending. Just at this instant five or six rifles flashed, and the opposite hills gave back, as usual, the sharp reports in prolonged rolling echoes. One or two shrieks, like those which escape the bravest when suddenly overcome by unexpected anguish and alarm, followed; and then the threshing among the bushes was renewed, in a way to show that man was grappling with man.

“Slippery devil!” shouted Hurry with the fury of disappointment-“his skin’s greased! I sha’n’t grapple! Take that for your cunning!”

The words were followed by the fall of some heavy object among the smaller trees that fringed the bank, appearing to Deerslayer as if his gigantic associate had hurled an enemy from him in this unceremonious manner. Again the flight and pursuit were renewed, and then the young man saw a human form break down the hill, and rush several yards into the water. At this critical moment the canoe was just near enough to the spot to allow this movement, which was accompanied by no little noise, to be seen, and feeling that there he must take in his companion, if anywhere, Deerslayer urged the canoe forward to the rescue. His paddle had not been raised twice, when the voice of Hurry was heard filling the air with imprecations, and he rolled on the narrow beach, literally loaded down with enemies. While prostrate, and almost smothered with his foes, the athletic frontierman gave his loon-call, in a manner that would have excited laughter under circumstances less terrific. The figure in the water seemed suddenly to repent his own flight, and rushed to the shore to aid his companion, but was met and immediately overpowered by half a dozen fresh pursuers, who, just then, came leaping down the bank.

“Let up, you painted riptyles- let up!” cried Hurry, too hard pressed to be particular about the terms he used; “isn’t it enough that I am withed like a saw-log that ye must choke too!”

This speech satisfied Deerslayer that his friends were prisoners, and that to land would be to share their fate He was already within a hundred feet of the shore, when a few timely strokes of the paddle not only arrested his advance, but forced him off to six or eight times that distance from his enemies. Luckily for him, all of the Indians had dropped their rifles in the pursuit, or this retreat might not have been effected with impunity; though no one had noted the canoe in the first confusion of the melee.

“Keep off the land, lad,” called out Hutter; “the girls depend only on you, now; you will want all your caution to escape these savages. Keep off, and God prosper you, as you aid my children!”

There was little sympathy in general between Hutter and the young man, but the bodily and mental anguish with which this appeal was made served at the moment to conceal from the latter the former’s faults. He saw only the father in his sufferings, and resolved at once to give a pledge of fidelity to its interests, and to be faithful to his word.

“Put your heart at ease, Master Hutter,” he called out; “the gals shall be looked to, as well as the castle. The inimy has got the shore, ’tis no use to deny, but he hasn’t got the water. Providence has the charge of all, and no one can say what will come of it; but, if good-will can sarve you and your’n, depend on that much. My exper’ence is small, but my will is good.”

“Ay, ay, Deerslayer,” returned Hurry, in this stentorian voice, which was losing some of its heartiness, notwithstanding,- “Ay, ay, Deerslayer. You mean well enough, but what can you do? You’re no great matter in the best of times, and such a person is not likely to turn out a miracle in the worst. If there’s one savage on this lake shore, there’s forty, and that’s an army you ar’n’t the man to overcome. The best way, in my judgment, will be to make a straight course to the castle; get the gals into the canoe, with a few eatables; then strike off for the corner of the lake where we came in, and take the best trail for the Mohawk. These devils won’t know where to look for you for some hours, and if they did, and went off hot in the pursuit, they must turn either the foot or the head of the lake to get at you. That’s my judgment in the matter; and if old Tom here wishes to make his last will and testament in a manner favorable to his darters, he’ll say the same.”

“‘Twill never do, young man,” rejoined Hutter. “The enemy has scouts out at this moment, looking for canoes, and you’ll be seen and taken. Trust to the castle; and above all things, keep clear of the land. Hold out a week, and parties from the garrisons will drive the savages off.”

“‘Twon’t be four-and-twenty hours, old fellow, afore these foxes will be rafting off to storm your castle,” interrupted Hurry, with more of the heat of argument than might be expected from a man who was bound and a captive, and about whom nothing could be called free but his opinions and his tongue. “Your advice has a stout sound, but it will have a fatal tarmination. If you or I was in the house, we might hold out a few days, but remember that this lad has never seen an inimy afore tonight, and is what you yourself called settlement-conscienced; though for my part, I think the consciences in the settlements pretty much the same as they are out here in the woods. These savages are making signs, Deerslayer, for me to encourage you to come ashore with the canoe; but that I’ll never do, as it’s ag’in reason and natur’. As for old Tom and myself, whether they’ll scalp us tonight, keep us for the torture by fire, or carry us to Canada, is more than any one knows but the devil that advises them how to act. I’ve such a big and bushy head that it’s quite likely they’ll indivor to get two scalps off it, for the bounty is a tempting thing, or old Tom and I wouldn’t be in this scrape. Ay- there they go with their signs ag’in, but if I advise you to land may they eat me as well as roast me. No, no, Deerslayer — do you keep off where you are, and after daylight, on no account come within two hundred yards -“

This injunction of Hurry’s was stopped by a hand being rudely slapped against his mouth, the certain sign that some one in the party sufficiently understood English to have at length detected the drift of his discourse. Immediately after, the whole group entered the forest, Hutter and Hurry apparently making no resistance to the movement. Just as the sounds of the cracking bushes were ceasing, however, the voice of the father was again heard.

“As you’re true to my children, God prosper you, young man!” were the words that reached Deerslayer’s ears; after which he found himself left to follow the dictates of his own discretion.

Several minutes elapsed, in death-like stillness, when the party on the shore had disappeared in the woods. Owing to the distance -rather more than two hundred yards – and the obscurity, Deerslayer had been able barely to distinguish the group, and to see it retiring; but even this dim connection with human forms gave an animation to the scene that was strongly in contrast to the absolute solitude that remained. Although the young man leaned forward to listen, holding his breath and condensing every faculty in the single sense of hearing, not another sound reached his ears to denote the vicinity of human beings. It seemed as if a silence that had never been broken reigned on the spot again; and, for an instant, even that piercing shriek, which had so lately broken the stillness of the forest, or the execrations of March, would have been a relief to the feeling of desertion to which it gave rise.

This paralysis of mind and body, however, could not last long in one constituted mentally and physically like Deerslayer. Dropping his paddle into the water, he turned the head of the canoe, and proceeded slowly, as one walks who thinks intently, towards the centre of the lake. When he believed himself to have reached a point in a line with that where he had set the last canoe adrift, he changed his direction northward, keeping the light air as nearly on his back as possible. After paddling a quarter of a mile in this direction, a dark object became visible on the lake, a little to the right; and turning on one side for the purpose, he had soon secured his lost prize to his own boat. Deerslayer now examined the heavens, the course of the air, and the position of the two canoes. Finding nothing in either to induce a change of plan, he lay down, and prepared to catch a few hours’ sleep, that the morrow might find him equal to its exigencies.

Although the hardy and the tired sleep profoundly, even in scenes of danger, it was some time before Deerslayer lost his recollection. His mind dwelt on what had passed, and his half-conscious faculties kept figuring the events of the night, in a sort of waking dream. Suddenly he was up and alert, for he fancied he heard the preconcerted signal of Hurry summoning him to the shore. But all was still as the grave again. The canoes were slowly drifting northward, the thoughtful stars were glimmering in their mild glory over his head, and the forest-bound sheet of water lay embedded between its mountains, as calm and melancholy as if never troubled by the winds, or brightened by a noonday sun. Once more the loon raised his tremulous cry, near the foot of the lake, and the mystery of the alarm was explained. Deerslayer adjusted his hard pillow, stretched his form in the bottom of the canoe, and slept.

Chapter VII.

“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