The Pioneers (50 page)

When Billy appeared, he was very kindly invited to take the chair in which he had already seated himself, and was treated in all respects as if he were an equal.

“Judge Temple has set his heart on putting the deer law in force,” said Hiram, after the preliminary civilities were over, “and a complaint has been laid before him that a deer has been killed. He has issued a search warrant and sent for me to get somebody to execute it.”

Kirby, who had no idea of being excluded from the deliberative part of any affair in which he was engaged, drew up his bushy head in a reflecting attitude and, after musing a moment, replied by asking a few questions.

“The Sheriff is gone out of the way?”

“Not to be found.”

“And his deputy, too?”

“Both gone on the skirts of the Patent.”

“But I saw the constable hobbling about town an hour ago.”

“Yes, yes,” said Hiram with a coaxing smile and knowing nod, “but this business wants a man—not a cripple.”

“Why,” said Billy, laughing, “will the chap make fight?”

“He's a little quarrelsome at times, and thinks he's the best man in the country at rough-and-tumble.”

“I heard him brag once,” said Jotham, “that there wasn't a man 'twixt the Mohawk Flats and the Pennsylvany line that was his match at a close hug.”

“Did you?” exclaimed Kirby, raising his huge frame in his seat, like a lion stretching in his lair. “I rather guess he never felt a Varmounter's knuckles on his backbone. But who is the chap?”

“Why,” said Jotham, “it's——”

“It's ag'in law to tell,” interrupted Hiram, “unless you'll qualify to sarve. You'd be the very man to take him, Bill; and I'll make out a special deputation in a minute, when you will get the fees.”

“What's the fees?” said Kirby, laying his large hand on the leaves of a statute book that Hiram had opened in order to give dignity to his office, which he turned over in his rough manner as if he were reflecting on a subject about which he had, in truth, already decided. “Will they pay a man for a broken head?”

“They'll be something handsome,” said Hiram.

“Damn the fees,” said Billy, again laughing. “Does the fellow think he's the best wrestler in the county, though? What's his inches?”

“He's taller than you be,” said Jotham, “and one of the biggest——”

Talkers, he was about to add, but the impatience of Kirby interrupted him. The wood chopper had nothing fierce or even brutal in his appearance; the character of his expression was that of good-natured vanity. It was evident he prided himself on the powers of the physical man, like all who have nothing better to boast of; and, stretching out his broad hand, with the palm downwards, he said, keeping his eyes fastened on his own bones and sinews:

“Come, give us a touch of the book. I'll swear, and you'll see that I'm a man to keep my oath.”

Hiram did not give the wood chopper time to change his mind, but the oath was administered without unnecessary delay. So soon as this preliminary was completed, the three worthies left the house and proceeded by the nearest road towards the hut. They had reached the bank of the lake, and were diverging from the route of the highway, before Kirby recollected that he was now entitled to the privilege of the initiated, and repeated his question as to the name of the offender.

“Which way, which way, Squire?” exclaimed the hardy wood chopper. “I thought it was to search a house that you wanted me, not the woods. There is nobody lives on this side of the lake, for six miles, unless you count the Leatherstocking and old John for settlers. Come, tell me the chap's name, and I warrant me that I lead you to his clearing by a straighter path than this, for I know every sapling that grows within two miles of Templetown.”

“This is the way,” said Hiram, pointing forward and quickening his step, as if apprehensive that Kirby would desert, “and Bumppo is the man.”

Kirby stopped short and looked from one of his companions to the other in astonishment. He then burst into a loud laugh, and cried:

“Who? Leatherstocking! He may brag of his aim and his rifle, for he has the best of both, as I will own myself, for sin' he shot the pigeon I knock under to him; but for a wrestle! Why, I would take the creatur' between my finger and thumb and tie him in a bowknot around my neck for a barcelony. The man is seventy and was never anything particular for strength.”

“He's a deceiving man,” said Hiram, “like all the hunters; he is stronger than he seems; besides, he has his rifle.”

“That for his rifle!” cried Billy. “He'd no more hurt me with his rifle than he'd fly. He is a harmless creatur', and I must say that I think he has as good right to kill deer as any man on the Patent. It's his main support, and this is a free country, where a man is privileged to follow any calling he likes.”

“According to that doctrine,” said Jotham, “anybody may shoot a deer.”

“This is the man's calling, I tell you,” returned Kirby, “and the law was never made for such as he.”

“The law was made for all,” observed Hiram, who began to think that the danger was likely to fall to his own share, notwithstanding his management; “and the law is particular in noticing parjury.”

“See here, Squire Doolittle,” said the reckless wood chopper; “I don't care the valie of a beetle ring for you and your parjury, too. But as I have come so far, I'll go down and have a talk with the old man and maybe we'll fry a steak of the deer together.”

“Well, if you can get in peaceably, so much the better,” said the magistrate. “To my notion, strife is very unpopular; I prefer, at all times, clever conduct to an ugly temper.”

As the whole party moved at a great pace, they soon reached the hut, where Hiram thought it prudent to halt on the outside of the top of the fallen pine, which formed a chevaux-de-frise, to defend the approach to the fortress, on the side next the village. The delay was little relished by Kirby, who clapped his hands to his mouth and gave a loud halloo that brought the dogs out of their kennel and, almost at the same instant, the scantily covered head of Natty from the door.

“Lie down, old fool,” cried the hunter. “Do you think there's more painters about you?”

“Ha! Leatherstocking, I've an arrand with you,” cried Kirby; “here's the good people of the state have been writing you a small letter, and they've hired me to ride post.”

“What would you have with me, Billy Kirby?” said Natty, stepping across his threshold, and raising his hand over his eyes to screen them from the rays of the setting sun while he took a survey of his visitor. “I've no land to clear; and heaven knows I would set out six trees afore I would cut down one. Down, Hector, I say; into your kennel with ye.”

“Would you, old boy?” roared Billy. “Then so much the better for me. But I must do my arrand. Here's a letter for you, Leatherstocking. If you can read it, it's all well, and if you can't, here's Squire Doolittle at hand to let you know what it means. It seems you mistook the twentieth of July for the first of August, that's all.”

By this time Natty had discovered the lank person of Hiram, drawn up under the cover of a high stump; and all that was complacent in his manner instantly gave way to marked distrust and dissatisfaction. He placed his head within the door of his hut and said a few words in an undertone, when he again appeared, and continued:

“I've nothing for ye; so away, afore the evil one tempts me to do you harm. I owe you no spite, Billy Kirby, and what for should you trouble an old man, who has done you no harm?”

Kirby advanced through the top of the pine to within a few feet of the hunter, where he seated himself on the end of a log with great composure and began to examine the nose of Hector, with whom he was familiar from their frequently meeting in the woods, where he sometimes fed the dog from his own basket of provisions.

“You've outshot me, and I'm not ashamed to say it,” said the wood chopper; “but I don't owe you a grudge for that, Natty! Though it seems that you've shot once too often, for the story goes that you've killed a buck.”

“I've fired but twice today, and both times at the painters,” returned the Leatherstocking. “See, here are the scalps! I was just going in with them to the Judge's to ask the bounty.”

While Natty was speaking, he tossed the ears to Kirby, who continued playing with them, with a careless air, holding them to the dogs and laughing at their movements when they scented the unusual game.

But Hiram, emboldened by the advance of the deputed constable, now ventured to approach, also, and took up the discourse with the air of authority that became his commission. His first measure was to read the warrant aloud, taking care to give due emphasis to the most material parts, and concluding with the name of the Judge in very audible and distinct tones.

“Did Marmaduke Temple put his name to that bit of paper?” said Natty, shaking his head. “Well, well, that man loves the new ways, and his betterments, and his lands, afore his own flesh and blood. But I won't mistrust the gal: she has an eye like a full-grown buck! Poor thing, she didn't choose her father and can't help it. I know but little of the law, Mr. Doolittle; what is to be done, now you've read your commission?”

“Oh! it's nothing but form, Natty,” said Hiram, endeavoring to assume a friendly aspect. “Let's go in, and talk the thing over in reason; I dare to say that the money can be easily found, and I partly conclude, from what passed, that Judge Temple will pay it himself.”

The old hunter had kept a keen eye on the movements of his three visitors from the beginning and had maintained his position, just without the threshold of his cabin, with a determined manner that showed he was not to be easily driven from his post. When Hiram drew nigher, as if expecting his proposition would be accepted, Natty lifted his hand and motioned for him to retreat.

“Haven't I told you more than once not to tempt me?” he said. “I trouble no man; why can't the law leave me to myself? Go back—go back, and tell your Judge that he may keep his bounty; but I won't have his wasty ways brought into my hut.”

This offer, however, instead of appeasing the curiosity of Hiram, seemed to inflame it the more; while Kirby cried:

“Well, that's fair, Squire; he forgives the county his demand, and the county should forgive him the fine; it's what I call an even trade and should be concluded on the spot. I like quick dealings, and what's fair 'twixt man and man.”

“I demand entrance into this house,” said Hiram, summoning all the dignity he could muster to his assistance, “in the name of the people; and by the virtue of this warrant, and of my office, and with this peace officer.”

“Stand back, stand back, Squire, and don't tempt me,” said the Leatherstocking, motioning for him to retire, with great earnestness.

“Stop us at your peril,” continued Hiram. “Billy! Jotham! Close up—I want testimony.”

Hiram had mistaken the mild but determined air of Natty for submission, and had already put his foot on the threshold to enter when he was seized unexpectedly by his shoulders and hurled over the little bank towards the lake, to the distance of twenty feet. The suddenness of the movement and the unexpected display of strength on the part of Natty created a momentary astonishment in his invaders that silenced all noises; but at the next instant Billy Kirby gave vent to his mirth in peals of laughter that he seemed to heave up from his very soul.

“Well done, old stub!” he shouted. “The Squire know'd you better than I did. Come, come, here's a green spot; take it out like men, while Jotham and I see fair play.”

“William Kirby, I order you to do your duty,” cried Hiram, from under the bank; “seize that man; I order you to seize him in the name of the people.”

But the Leatherstocking now assumed a more threatening attitude; his rifle was in his hand, and its muzzle was directed towards the wood chopper.

“Stand off, I bid ye,” said Natty; “you know my aim, Billy Kirby; I don't crave your blood, but mine and yourn both shall turn this green grass red, afore you put foot into the hut.”

While the affair appeared trifling, the wood chopper seemed disposed to take sides with the weaker party; but when the firearms were introduced, his manner very sensibly changed. He raised his large frame from the log, and facing the hunter with an open front, he replied:

“I didn't come here as your enemy, Leatherstocking; but I don't value the hollow piece of iron in your hand so much as a broken ax helve; so, Squire, say the word, and keep within the law, and we'll soon see who's the best man of the two.”

But no magistrate was to be seen! The instant the rifle was produced Hiram and Jotham vanished; and when the wood chopper bent his eyes about him in surprise at receiving no answer, he discovered their retreating figures moving towards the village at a rate that sufficiently indicated that they had not only calculated the velocity of a rifle bullet, but also its probable range.

“You've scared the creaters off,” said Kirby, with great contempt expressed on his broad features; “but you are not going to scare me; so, Mr. Bumppo, down with your gun, or there'll be trouble 'twixt us.”

Natty dropped his rifle, and replied:

“I wish you no harm, Billy Kirby; but I leave it to your self, whether an old man's hut is to be run down by such varmint. I won't deny the buck to you, Billy, and you may take the skin in, if you please, and show it as testimony. The bounty will pay the fine, and that ought to satisfy any man.”

“ 'Twill, old boy, 'twill,” cried Kirby, every shade of displeasure vanishing from his open brow at the peace offering; “throw out the hide, and that shall satisfy the law.”