James Cooper - LEATHERSTOCKING TALES – Complete Collection

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The Leatherstocking Tales is a series of five novels featuring the main hero Natty Bumppo, known by European settlers as «Leatherstocking» and «The Pathfinder», and by the Native Americans as «Deerslayer» and «Hawkeye». Natty Bumppo is a resourceful Anglo-American woodsman raised in part by Native Americans, who later becomes a fearless warrior skilled in many weapons, chiefly the long rifle. His constant companion is his «brother» Chingachgook, Mohican chief, who happens to be the actual last of the Mohicans. The stories take place on the rapidly advancing frontier of New York State and focus on the evolution of the wilderness into a civilized European-American community. Table of Contents: The Deerslayer: The First Warpath The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757 The Pathfinder: The Inland Sea The Pioneers: The Sources of the Susquehanna The Prairie James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851) was a prolific and popular American writer of the early 19th century. His historical romances of frontier and Indian life in the early American days created a unique form of American literature. Before embarking on his career as a writer, Cooper served in the U.S. Navy, which greatly influenced many of his novels. The novel that launched his career was The Spy and he wrote numerous sea stories. His best-known works are five historical novels of the frontier period known as the Leatherstocking Tales. Among his most famous works is the Romantic novel The Last of the Mohicans, often regarded as his masterpiece.

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“Listen, Deerslayer,” returned the Indian with an emphasis so decided as to show how much he was in earnest. “If Chingachgook was in the hands of the Hurons, what would my pale-face brother do? Sneak off to the Delaware villages, and say to the chiefs, and old men, and young warriors —‘see, here is Wah-ta-Wah; she is safe, but a little tired; and here is the Son of Uncas, not as tired as the Honeysuckle, being stronger, but just as safe.’ Would he do this?”

“Well, that’s oncommon ingen’ous; it’s cunning enough for a Mingo, himself! The Lord only knows what put it into your head to ask such a question. What would I do? Why, in the first place, Hist wouldn’t be likely to be in my company at all, for she would stay as near you as possible, and therefore all that part about her couldn’t be said without talking nonsense. As for her being tired, that would fall through too, if she didn’t go, and no part of your speech would be likely to come from me; so, you see, Sarpent, reason is ag’in you, and you may as well give it up, since to hold out ag’in reason, is no way becoming a chief of your character and repitation.”

“My brother is not himself; he forgets that he is talking to one who has sat at the Council Fire of his nation,” returned the other kindly. “When men speak, they should say that which does not go in at one side of the head and out at the other. Their words shouldn’t be feathers, so light that a wind which does not ruffle the water can blow them away. He has not answered my question; when a chief puts a question, his friend should not talk of other things.”

“I understand you, Delaware; I understand well enough what you mean, and truth won’t allow me to say otherwise. Still it’s not as easy to answer as you seem to think, for this plain reason. You wish me to say what I would do if I had a betrothed as you have, here, on the lake, and a fri’nd yonder in the Huron camp, in danger of the torments. That’s it, isn’t it?”

The Indian bowed his head silently, and always with unmoved gravity, though his eye twinkled at the sight of the other’s embarrassment.

“Well, I never had a betrothed — never had the kind of feelin’s toward any young woman that you have towards Hist, though the Lord knows my feelin’s are kind enough towards ’em all! Still my heart, as they call it in such matters, isn’t touched, and therefore I can’t say what I would do. A fri’nd pulls strong, that I know by exper’ence, Sarpent, but, by all that I’ve seen and heard consarning love, I’m led to think that a betrothed pulls stronger.”

“True; but the betrothed of Chingachgook does not pull towards the lodges of the Delawares; she pulls towards the camp of the Hurons.”

“She’s a noble gal, for all her little feet, and hands that an’t bigger than a child’s, and a voice that is as pleasant as a mocker’s; she’s a noble gal, and like the stock of her sires! Well, what is it, Sarpent; for I conclude she hasn’t changed her mind, and means to give herself up, and turn Huron wife. What is it you want?”

“Wah-ta-Wah will never live in the wigwam of an Iroquois,” answered the Delaware drily. “She has little feet, but they can carry her to the villages of her people; she has small hands, too, but her mind is large. My brother will see what we can do, when the time shall come, rather than let him die under Mingo torments.”

“Attempt nothing heedlessly, Delaware,” said the other earnestly; “I suppose you must and will have your way; and, on the whole it’s right you should, for you’d neither be happy, unless something was undertaken. But attempt nothing heedlessly — I didn’t expect you’d quit the lake, while my matter remained in unsartainty, but remember, Sarpent, that no torments that Mingo ingenuity can invent, no ta’ntings and revilings; no burnings and roastings and nail-tearings, nor any other onhuman contrivances can so soon break down my spirit, as to find that you and Hist have fallen into the power of the inimy in striving to do something for my good.”

“The Delawares are prudent. The Deerslayer will not find them running into a strange camp with their eyes shut.”

Here the dialogue terminated. Hetty announced that the breakfast was ready, and the whole party was soon seated around the simple board, in the usual primitive manner of borderers. Judith was the last to take her seat, pale, silent, and betraying in her countenance that she had passed a painful, if not a sleepless, night. At this meal scarce a syllable was exchanged, all the females manifesting want of appetites, though the two men were unchanged in this particular. It was early when the party arose, and there still remained several hours before it would be necessary for the prisoner to leave his friends. The knowledge of this circumstance, and the interest all felt in his welfare, induced the whole to assemble on the platform again, in the desire to be near the expected victim, to listen to his discourse, and if possible to show their interest in him by anticipating his wishes. Deerslayer, himself, so far as human eyes could penetrate, was wholly unmoved, conversing cheerfully and naturally, though he avoided any direct allusions to the expected and great event of the day. If any evidence could be discovered of his thought’s reverting to that painful subject at all, it was in the manner in which he spoke of death and the last great change.

“Grieve not, Hetty,” he said, for it was while consoling this simple-minded girl for the loss of her parents that he thus betrayed his feelings, “since God has app’inted that all must die. Your parents, or them you fancied your parents, which is the same thing, have gone afore you; this is only in the order of natur’, my good gal, for the aged go first, and the young follow. But one that had a mother like your’n, Hetty, can be at no loss to hope the best, as to how matters will turn out in another world. The Delaware, here, and Hist, believe in happy hunting grounds, and have idees befitting their notions and gifts as red-skins, but we who are of white blood hold altogether to a different doctrine. Still, I rather conclude our heaven is their land of spirits, and that the path which leads to it will be travelled by all colours alike. Tis onpossible for the wicked to enter on it, I will allow, but fri’nds can scarce be separated, though they are not of the same race on ‘arth. Keep up your spirits, poor Hetty, and look forward to the day when you will meet your mother ag’in, and that without pain, or sorrowing.”

“I do expect to see mother,” returned the truth-telling and simple girl, “but what will become of father?”

“That’s a non-plusser, Delaware,” said the hunter, in the Indian dialect —“yes, that is a downright non-plusser! The Muskrat was not a saint on ‘arth, and it’s fair to guess he’ll not be much of one, hereafter! Howsever, Hetty,” dropping into the English by an easy transition, “howsever, Hetty, we must all hope for the best. That is wisest, and it is much the easiest to the mind, if one can only do it. I ricommend to you, trusting to God, and putting down all misgivings and fainthearted feelin’s. It’s wonderful, Judith, how different people have different notions about the futur’, some fancying one change, and some fancying another. I’ve known white teachers that have thought all was spirit, hereafter, and them, ag’in, that believed the body will be transported to another world, much as the red-skins themselves imagine, and that we shall walk about in the flesh, and know each other, and talk together, and be fri’nds there as we’ve been fri’nds here.”

“Which of these opinions is most pleasing to you, Deerslayer?” asked the girl, willing to indulge his melancholy mood, and far from being free from its influence herself. “Would it be disagreeable to think that you should meet all who are now on this platform in another world? Or have you known enough of us here, to be glad to see us no more.

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