James Cooper - LEATHERSTOCKING TALES – Complete Collection

“Hawkeye has stolen nothing, Huron. He doesn’t come of a thieving breed, nor has he thieving gifts. Your wife, as you call Wah-ta-Wah, will never be the wife of any red-skin of the Canadas; her mind is in the cabin of a Delaware, and her body has gone to find it. The catamount is actyve I know, but its legs can’t keep pace with a woman’s wishes.”

“The Serpent of the Delawares is a dog — he is a poor bull trout that keeps in the water; he is afraid to stand on the hard earth, like a brave Indian!”

“Well, well, Huron, that’s pretty impudent, considering it’s not an hour since the Sarpent stood within a hundred feet of you, and would have tried the toughness of your skin with a rifle bullet, when I pointed you out to him, hadn’t I laid the weight of a little judgment on his hand. You may take in timorsome gals in the settlements, with your catamount whine, but the ears of a man can tell truth from ontruth.”

“Hist laughs at him! She sees he is lame, and a poor hunter, and he has never been on a war path. She will take a man for a husband, and not a fish.”

“How do you know that, Catamount? how do you know that?” returned Deerslayer laughing. “She has gone into the lake, you see, and maybe she prefars a trout to a mongrel cat. As for war paths, neither the Sarpent nor I have much exper’ence, we are ready to own, but if you don’t call this one, you must tarm it, what the gals in the settlements tarm it, the high road to matrimony. Take my advice, Catamount, and s’arch for a wife among the Huron women; you’ll never get one with a willing mind from among the Delawares.”

Catamount’s hand felt for his tomahawk, and when the fingers reached the handle they worked convulsively, as if their owner hesitated between policy and resentment. At this critical moment Rivenoak approached, and by a gesture of authority, induced the young man to retire, assuming his former position, himself, on the log at the side of Deerslayer. Here he continued silent for a little time, maintaining the grave reserve of an Indian chief.

“Hawkeye is right,” the Iroquois at length began; “his sight is so strong that he can see truth in a dark night, and our eyes have been blinded. He is an owl, darkness hiding nothing from him. He ought not to strike his friends. He is right.”

“I’m glad you think so, Mingo,” returned the other, “for a traitor, in my judgment, is worse than a coward. I care as little for the Muskrat, as one pale-face ought to care for another, but I care too much for him to ambush him in the way you wished. In short, according to my idees, any sarcumventions, except open-war sarcumventions, are ag’in both law, and what we whites call ‘gospel’, too.”

“My pale-face brother is right; he is no Indian, to forget his Manitou and his colour. The Hurons know that they have a great warrior for their prisoner, and they will treat him as one. If he is to be tortured, his torments shall be such as no common man can bear; if he is to be treated as a friend, it will be the friendship of chiefs.”

As the Huron uttered this extraordinary assurance of consideration, his eye furtively glanced at the countenance of his listener, in order to discover how he stood the compliment, though his gravity and apparent sincerity would have prevented any man but one practised in artifices, from detecting his motives. Deerslayer belonged to the class of the unsuspicious, and acquainted with the Indian notions of what constitutes respect, in matters connected with the treatment of captives, he felt his blood chill at the announcement, even while he maintained an aspect so steeled that his quick sighted enemy could discover in it no signs of weakness.

“God has put me in your hands, Huron,” the captive at length answered, “and I suppose you will act your will on me. I shall not boast of what I can do, under torment, for I’ve never been tried, and no man can say till he has been; but I’ll do my endivours not to disgrace the people among whom I got my training. Howsever, I wish you now to bear witness that I’m altogether of white blood, and, in a nat’ral way of white gifts too; so, should I be overcome and forget myself, I hope you’ll lay the fault where it properly belongs, and in no manner put it on the Delawares, or their allies and friends the Mohicans. We’re all created with more or less weakness, and I’m afeard it’s a pale-face’s to give in under great bodily torment, when a red-skin will sing his songs, and boast of his deeds in the very teeth of his foes.”

“We shall see. Hawkeye has a good countenance, and he is tough — but why should he be tormented, when the Hurons love him? He is not born their enemy, and the death of one warrior will not cast a cloud between them forever.”

“So much the better, Huron; so much the better. Still I don’t wish to owe any thing to a mistake about each other’s meaning. It is so much the better that you bear no malice for the loss of a warrior who fell in war, and yet it is ontrue that there is no inmity — lawful inmity I mean — atween us. So far as I have red-skin feelin’s at all, I’ve Delaware feelin’s, and I leave you to judge for yourself how far they are likely to be fri’ndly to the Mingos —”

Deerslayer ceased, for a sort of spectre stood before him, that put a stop to his words, and, indeed, caused him for a moment to doubt the fidelity of his boasted vision. Hetty Hutter was standing at the side of the fire as quietly as if she belonged to the tribe.

As the hunter and the Indian sat watching the emotions that were betrayed in each other’s countenance, the girl had approached unnoticed, doubtless ascending from the beach on the southern side of the point, or that next to the spot where the Ark had anchored, and had advanced to the fire with the fearlessness that belonged to her simplicity, and which was certainly justified by the treatment formerly received from the Indians. As soon as Rivenoak perceived the girl, she was recognised, and calling to two or three of the younger warriors, the chief sent them out to reconnoitre, lest her appearance should be the forerunner of another attack. He then motioned to Hetty to draw near.

“I hope your visit is a sign that the Sarpent and Hist are in safety, Hetty,” said Deerslayer, as soon as the girl had complied with the Huron’s request. “I don’t think you’d come ashore ag’in, on the arr’nd that brought you here afore.”

“Judith told me to come this time, Deerslayer,” Hetty replied, “she paddled me ashore herself, in a canoe, as soon as the Serpent had shown her Hist and told his story. How handsome Hist is tonight, Deerslayer, and how much happier she looks than when she was with the Hurons!”

“That’s natur’ gal; yes, that may be set down as human natur’. She’s with her betrothed, and no longer fears a Mingo husband. In my judgment Judith, herself, would lose most of her beauty if she thought she was to bestow it all on a Mingo! Content is a great fortifier of good looks, and I’ll warrant you, Hist is contented enough, now she is out of the hands of these miscreants, and with her chosen warrior! Did you say that Judith told you to come ashore — why should your sister do that?”

“She bid me come to see you, and to try and persuade the savages to take more elephants to let you off, but I’ve brought the Bible with me — that will do more than all the elephants in father’s chest!”

“And your father, good little Hetty — and Hurry; did they know of your arr’nd?”

“Not they. Both are asleep, and Judith and the Serpent thought it best they should not be woke, lest they might want to come again after scalps, when Hist had told them how few warriors, and how many women and children there were in the camp. Judith would give me no peace, till I had come ashore to see what had happened to you.”