LEATHERSTOCKING TALES – Complete Collection. Джеймс Фенимор Купер

unexpected a change caused Deerslayer a good deal of surprise and some uneasiness, for he had never known it to occur, in the course of his experience among the Delawares. He suspected, however, and rightly, that a change of encampment was intended, and that the mystery of the movement was resorted to in order to work on his apprehensions.

      Rivenoak walked up the vista of trees as soon as he ceased speaking, leaving Deerslayer by himself. The chief disappeared behind the covers of the forest, and one unpractised in such scenes might have believed the prisoner left to the dictates of his own judgment. But the young man, while he felt a little amazement at the dramatic aspect of things, knew his enemies too well to fancy himself at liberty, or a free agent. Still, he was ignorant how far the Hurons meant to carry their artifices, and he determined to bring the question, as soon as practicable, to the proof. Affecting an indifference he was far from feeling, he strolled about the area, gradually getting nearer and nearer to the spot where he had landed, when he suddenly quickened his pace, though carefully avoiding all appearance of flight, and pushing aside the bushes, he stepped upon the beach. The canoe was gone, nor could he see any traces of it, after walking to the northern and southern verges of the point, and examining the shores in both directions. It was evidently removed beyond his reach and knowledge, and under circumstances to show that such had been the intention of the savages.

      Deerslayer now better understood his actual situation. He was a prisoner on the narrow tongue of land, vigilantly watched beyond a question, and with no other means of escape than that of swimming. He, again, thought of this last expedient, but the certainty that the canoe would be sent in chase, and the desperate nature of the chances of success deterred him from the undertaking. While on the strand, he came to a spot where the bushes had been cut, and thrust into a small pile. Removing a few of the upper branches, he found beneath them the dead body of the Panther. He knew that it was kept until the savages might find a place to inter it, where it would be beyond the reach of the scalping knife. He gazed wistfully towards the castle, but there all seemed to be silent and desolate, and a feeling of loneliness and desertion came over him to increase the gloom of the moment.

      “God’s will be done!” murmured the young man, as he walked sorrowfully away from the beach, entering again beneath the arches of the wood. “God’s will be done, on ‘arth as it is in heaven! I did hope that my days would not be numbered so soon, but it matters little a’ter all. A few more winters, and a few more summers, and ‘twould have been over, accordin’ to natur’. Ah’s! me, the young and actyve seldom think death possible, till he grins in their faces, and tells ’em the hour is come!”

      While this soliloquy was being pronounced, the hunter advanced into the area, where to his surprise he saw Hetty alone, evidently awaiting his return. The girl carried the Bible under her arm, and her face, over which a shadow of gentle melancholy was usually thrown, now seemed sad and downcast. Moving nearer, Deerslayer spoke.

      “Poor Hetty,” he said, “times have been so troublesome, of late, that I’d altogether forgotten you; we meet, as it might be to mourn over what is to happen. I wonder what has become of Chingachgook and Wah!”

      “Why did you kill the Huron, Deerslayer?—” returned the girl reproachfully. “Don’t you know your commandments, which say ‘Thou shalt not kill!’ They tell me you have now slain the woman’s husband and brother!”

      “It’s true, my good Hetty —’tis gospel truth, and I’ll not deny what has come to pass. But, you must remember, gal, that many things are lawful in war, which would be onlawful in peace. The husband was shot in open fight — or, open so far as I was consarned, while he had a better cover than common — and the brother brought his end on himself, by casting his tomahawk at an unarmed prisoner. Did you witness that deed, gal?”

      “I saw it, and was sorry it happened, Deerslayer, for I hoped you wouldn’t have returned blow for blow, but good for evil.”

      “Ah, Hetty, that may do among the Missionaries, but ‘twould make an onsartain life in the woods! The Panther craved my blood, and he was foolish enough to throw arms into my hands, at the very moment he was striving a’ter it. ‘Twould have been ag’in natur’ not to raise a hand in such a trial, and ‘twould have done discredit to my training and gifts. No — no — I’m as willing to give every man his own as another, and so I hope you’ll testify to them that will be likely to question you as to what you’ve seen this day.”

      “Deerslayer, do you mean to marry Sumach, now she has neither husband nor brother to feed her?”

      “Are such your idees of matrimony, Hetty! Ought the young to wive with the old — the pale-face with the red-skin — the Christian with the heathen? It’s ag’in reason and natur’, and so you’ll see, if you think of it a moment.”

      “I’ve always heard mother say,” returned Hetty, averting her face more from a feminine instinct than from any consciousness of wrong, “that people should never marry until they loved each other better than brothers and sisters, and I suppose that is what you mean. Sumach is old, and you are young!”

      “Ay and she’s red, and I’m white. Beside, Hetty, suppose you was a wife, now, having married some young man of your own years, and state, and colour — Hurry Harry, for instance —” Deerslayer selected this example simply from the circumstance that he was the only young man known to both —“and that he had fallen on a war path, would you wish to take to your bosom, for a husband, the man that slew him?”

      “Oh! no, no, no —” returned the girl shuddering —“That would be wicked as well as heartless! No Christian girl could, or would do that! I never shall be the wife of Hurry, I know, but were he my husband no man should ever be it, again, after his death!”

      “I thought it would get to this, Hetty, when you come to understand sarcumstances. ’Tis a moral impossibility that I should ever marry Sumach, and, though Injin weddin’s have no priests and not much religion, a white man who knows his gifts and duties can’t profit by that, and so make his escape at the fitting time. I do think death would be more nat’ral like, and welcome, than wedlock with this woman.”

      “Don’t say it too loud,” interrupted Hetty impatiently; “I suppose she will not like to hear it. I’m sure Hurry would rather marry even me than suffer torments, though I am feeble minded; and I am sure it would kill me to think he’d prefer death to being my husband.”

      “Ay, gal, you ain’t Sumach, but a comely young Christian, with a good heart, pleasant smile, and kind eye. Hurry might be proud to get you, and that, too, not in misery and sorrow, but in his best and happiest days. Howsever, take my advice, and never talk to Hurry about these things; he’s only a borderer, at the best.”

      “I wouldn’t tell him, for the world!” exclaimed the girl, looking about her like one affrighted, and blushing, she knew not why. “Mother always said young women shouldn’t be forward, and speak their minds before they’re asked; Oh! I never forget what mother told me. Tis a pity Hurry is so handsome, Deerslayer; I do think fewer girls would like him then, and he would sooner know his own mind.”

      “Poor gal, poor gal, it’s plain enough how it is, but the Lord will bear in mind one of your simple heart and kind feelin’s! We’ll talk no more of these things; if you had reason, you’d be sorrowful at having let others so much into your secret. Tell me, Hetty, what has become of all the Hurons, and why they let you roam about the p’int as if you, too, was a prisoner?”

      “I’m no prisoner, Deerslayer, but a free girl, and go when and where I please. Nobody dare hurt me! If they did, God would be angry, as I can show them in the Bible. No — no — Hetty Hutter is not afraid; she’s in good hands. The Hurons are up yonder in the woods, and keep a good watch on us both, I’ll answer for it, since all the women and children are on the look-out. Some are burying the body of the poor girl who was shot, so that the enemy and the wild beasts can’t find it. I told ’em that father and mother lay in the lake, but I wouldn’t let them know in what part of it, for Judith and I don’t want any of their heathenish company in our burying ground.”

      “Ahs! me; Well, it is an awful despatch to be standing here, alive and angry, and with the