Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (68 page)

“Hugh!” exclaimed the chief, in admiration of a scene so unusual even to him, for this was the first lake he had ever beheld. “This is the country of the Manitou! It is too good for Mingos, Hist; but the curs of that tribe are howling in packs through the woods. They think that the Delawares are asleep, over the mountains.”

“All but one of them is, Chingachgook. There is one here; and he is of the blood of Uncas!”

“What is one warrior against a tribe? The path to our villages is very long and crooked, and we shall travel it under a cloudy sky I am afraid, too, Honeysuckle of the Hills, that we shall travel it alone!”

Hist understood the allusion, and it made her sad; though it sounded sweet to her ears to be compared, by the warrior she so loved, to the most fragrant and the pleasantest of all the wild flowers of her native woods. Still she continued silent, as became her when the allusion was to a grave interest that men could best control, though it extended the power of education to conceal the smile that gratified feeling brought to her pretty mouth.

“When the sun is thus,” continued the Delaware, pointing to the zenith, by simply casting upward a hand and finger, by a play of the wrist, “the great hunter of our tribe will go back to the Hurons to be treated like a bear, that they roast and skin even on full stomachs.”

“The Great Spirit may soften their hearts, and not suffer them to be so bloody-minded. I have lived among the Hurons, and know them. They have hearts, and will not forget their own children, should they fall into the hands of the Delawares.”

“A wolf is forever howling; a hog will always eat. They have lost warriors; even their women will call out for vengeance. The paleface has the eyes of an eagle, and can see into a Mingo’s heart; he looks for no mercy. There is a cloud over his spirit, though it is not before his face.”

A long, thoughtful pause succeeded, during which Hist stealthily took the hand of the chief, as if seeking his support, though she scarce ventured to raise her eyes to a countenance that was now literally becoming terrible, under the conflicting passions and stern resolution that were struggling in the breast of its owner.

“What will the son of Uncas do?” the girl at length timidly asked. “He is a chief, and is already celebrated in council, though so young; what does his heart tell him is wisest? does the head, too, speak the same words as the heart?”

“What does Wah-ta-Wah say, at a moment when my dearest friend is in danger? The smallest birds sing the sweetest; it is always pleasant to hearken to their songs. I wish I could hear the Wren of the Woods in my difficulty; its note would reach deeper than the ear.”

Again Hist experienced the profound gratification that the language of praise can always awaken, when uttered by those we love. The “Honeysuckle of the Hills” was a term often applied to the girl, by the young men of the Delawares, though it never sounded so sweet in her ears as from the lips of Chingachgook; but the latter alone had ever styled her the Wren of the Woods. With him however, it had got to be a familiar phrase, and it was past expression pleasant to the listener, since it conveyed to her mind the idea that her advice and sentiments were as acceptable to her future husband, as the tones of her voice and modes of conveying them were agreeable; uniting the two things most prized by an Indian girl, as coming from her betrothed, admiration for a valued physical advantage, with respect for her opinion. She pressed the hand she held between both her own, and answered—

“Wah-ta-Wah says that neither she nor the Great Serpent could ever laugh again, or ever sleep without dreaming of the Hurons, should the Deerslayer die under a Mingo tomahawk, and they do nothing to save him. She would rather go back, and start on her long path alone, than let such a dark cloud pass before her happiness.”

“Good! The husband and wife will have but one heart; they will see with the same eyes, and feel with the same feelings.”

What further was said need not be related here. That the conversation was of Deerslayer, and his hopes, has been seen already, but the decision that was come to, will better appear in the course of the narrative. The youthful pair were yet conversing when the sun appeared above the tops of the pines, and the light of a brilliant American day streamed down into the valley, bathing “in deep joy” the lake, the forests, and the mountain sides. Just at this instant Deerslayer came out of the cabin of the ark, and stepped upon the platform. His first look was at the cloudless heavens, then his rapid glance took in the entire panorama of land and water, when he had leisure for a friendly nod at his friends and a cheerful smile for Hist.

“Well,” he said, in his usual composed manner, and pleasant voice; “he that sees the sun set in the west, and wakes ‘arly enough in the morning, will be sartain to find him coming back ag’in in the east, like a buck that is hunted round his ha‘nts. I dare say, now, Hist, you’ve beheld this, time and ag’in, and yet it never entered into your galish mind to ask the reason?”

Both Chingachgook and his betrothed looked up at the luminary with an air that betokened sudden wonder, and then they gazed at each other, as if to seek the solution of the difficulty. Familiarity deadens the sensibilities, even as connected with the gravest natural phenomena; and never before had these simple beings thought of inquiring into a movement that was of daily occurrence, however puzzling it might appear on investigation. When the subject was thus suddenly started, it struck both alike, and at the same instant, with some such force, as any new and brilliant proposition in the natural sciences would strike the scholar. Chingachgook alone saw fit to answer.

“The palefaces know everything,” he said; “can they tell us why the sun hides his face, and then goes back, at night?”

“Ay, that is downright redskin l‘arnin’ ,” returned the other, laughing, though he was not altogether insensible to the pleasure of proving the superiority of his race by solving the difficulty, which he set about doing in his own peculiar manner. “Harkee, Sarpent,” he continued more gravely, though too simply for affectation; “this is easierly explained than an Indian brain may fancy. The sun, while he seems to keep traveling in the heavens, never budges, but it is the ’arth that turns round; and any one can understand, if he is placed on the side of a mill wheel, for instance, when it’s in motion, that he must sometimes see the heavens, while he is at other times under water. There’s no great secret in that, but plain natur’; the difficulty being in setting the ’arth in motion.”

“How does my brother know that the earth turns round?” demanded the Indian. “Can he see it?”

“Well, that’s been a puzzler, I will own, Delaware; for I’ve often tried, but never could fairly make it out. Sometimes I’ve consaited that I could; and then ag‘in, I’ve been obliged to own it an onpossibility. Howsever, turn it does, as all my people say, and you ought to believe ’em, since they can foretell eclipses, and other prodigies, that used to fill the tribes with terror, according to your own traditions of such things.”

“Good! This is true; no redman will deny it. When a wheel turns, my eyes can see it; they do not see the earth turn.”

“Ay, that’s what I call sense-obstinacy! Seeing is believing, they say; and what they can’t see, some men won’t in the least give credit to. Nevertheless, chief, that isn’t quite as good reason as it may at first seem. You believe in the Great Spirit, I know; and yet, I conclude, it would puzzle you to show where you see him!”

“Chingachgook can see him everywhere—everywhere in good things—the Evil Spirit in bad. Here, in the lake; there, in the forest; yonder, in the clouds; in Hist, in the son of Uncas, in Tamenund, in Deerslayer. The Evil Spirit is in the Mingos. That I know; I do not see the earth turn round.”

“I don’t wonder they call you the Sarpent, Delaware; no, I don‘t! There’s always a meaning in your words, and there’s often a meaning in your countenance, too! Notwithstanding, your answers doesn’t quite meet my idee. That God is obsarvable in all nat’ral objects is allowable ; but then he is not parceptible in the way I mean. You know there is a Great Spirit, by his works, and the palefaces know that the ’arth turns round by its works. This is the reason of the matter, though how it is to be explained, is more than I can exactly tell you. This I know; all my people consait that fact; and what all the palefaces consait, is very likely to be true.”

“When the sun is in the top of that pine tomorrow, where will my brother Deerslayer be?”

The hunter started, and he looked intently, though totally without alarm, at his friend. Then he signed for him to follow, and led the way into the ark, where he might pursue the subject unheard by those whose feelings he feared might get the mastery over their reason. Here he stopped, and pursued the conversation in a more confidential tone.

“‘Twas a little onreasonable in you, Sarpent,” he said, “to bring up such a subject afore Hist, and when the young woman of my own color might overhear what was said. Yes, ’twas a little more onreasonable than most things that you do. No matter; Hist didn’t comprehend, and the other didn’t hear. Howsever, the question is easier put than answered. No mortal can say where he will be when the sun rises tomorrow. I will ask you the same question, Sarpent, and should like to hear what answer you can give.”

“Chingachgook will be with his friend, Deerslayer; if he be in the land of spirits, the Great Serpent will crawl at his side, if beneath yonder sun, its warmth and light shall fall on both.”

“I understand you, Delaware,” returned the other, touched with the simple self-devotion of his friend. “Such language is as plain in one tongue as in another; it comes from the heart, and goes to the heart, too. ‘Tis well to think so, and it may be well to say so, for that matter, but it would not be well to do so, Sarpent. You are no longer alone in life; for, though you have the lodges to change, and other ceremonies to go through, afore Hist becomes your lawful wife, yet are you as good as married, in all that bears on the feelin’s, and joy, and misery No, no; Hist must not be desarted, because a cloud is passing atween you and me, a little onexpectedly, and a little darker than we may have looked for.”

“Hist is a daughter of the Mohicans; she knows how to obey her husband. Where he goes she will follow. Both will be with the Great Hunter of the Delawares, when the sun shall be in the pine tomorrow”

“The Lord bless and protect you! Chief, this is downright madness. Can either or both of you alter a Mingo natur’ ? Will your grand looks or Hist’s tears and beauty, change a wolf into a squirrel, or make a catamount as innocent as a fa‘an! No, Sarpent, you will think better of this matter, and leave me in the hands of God. A’ter all, it’s by no means sartain that the scamps design the torments, for they may yet be pitiful, and bethink them of the wickedness of such a course; though it is but a hopeless expectation to look forward to a Mingo’s turning aside from evil, and letting marcy get uppermost in his heart. Nevertheless, no one knows to a sartainty what will happen; and young creatur‘s, like Hist, aren’t to be risked on unsartainties. This marrying is altogether a different undertaking from what some young men fancy. Now, if you was single, or as good as single, Delaware, I should expect you to be actyve and stirring about the camp of the vagabonds, from sunrise to sunset, sarcumventing, and contriving, as restless as a hound off the scent, and doing all manner of things to help me, and to distract the inimy; but two are often feebler than one, and we must take things as they are, and not as we want ’em to be.”

“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 paleface 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 fires 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 towards any young woman that you have towards Hist; though the Lord knows my feelin’s 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.”