The Pioneers; Or, The Sources of the Susquehanna. Джеймс Фенимор Купер

me the scissors,” said Mr. Jones, when he had finished, and finished for the second time, after tying the linen in every shape and form that it could be placed; “reach me the scissors, for here is a thread that must be cut off, or it might get under the dressings, and inflame the wound. See, John, I have put the lint I scraped between two layers of the linen; for though the bark is certainly best for the flesh, yet the lint will serve to keep the cold air from the wound. If any lint will do it good, it is this lint; I scraped it myself, and I will not turn my back at scraping lint to any man on the Patent. I ought to know how, if anybody ought, for my grandfather was a doctor, and my father had a natural turn that way.”

      “Here, squire, is the scissors,” said Remarkable, producing from beneath her petticoat of green moreen a pair of dull-looking shears; “well, upon my say-so, you have sewed on the rags as well as a woman.”

      “As well as a woman!” echoed Richard with indignation; “what do women know of such matters? and you are proof of the truth of what I say. Who ever saw such a pair of shears used about a wound? Dr. Todd, I will thank you for the scissors from the case, Now, young man, I think you'll do. The shot has been neatly taken out, although, perhaps, seeing I had a hand in it, I ought not to say so; and the wound is admirably dressed. You will soon be well again; though the jerk you gave my leaders must have a tendency to inflame the shoulder, yet you will do, you will do, You were rather flurried, I sup pose, and not used to horses; but I forgive the accident for the motive; no doubt you had the best of motives; yes, now you will do.”

      “Then, gentlemen,” said the wounded stranger, rising, and resuming his clothes, “it will be unnecessary for me to trespass longer on your time and patience. There remains but one thing more to be settled, and that is, our respective rights to the deer, Judge Temple.”

      “I acknowledge it to be thine,” said. Marmaduke; “and much more deeply am I indebted to thee than for this piece of venison. But in the morning thou wilt call here, and we can adjust this, as well as more important matters Elizabeth”—for the young lady, being apprised that the wound was dressed, had re-entered the hall—“thou wilt order a repast for this youth before we proceed to the church; and Aggy will have a sleigh prepared to convey him to his friend.”

      “But, sir, I cannot go without a part of the deer,” returned the youth, seemingly struggling with his own feelings; “I have already told you that I needed the venison for myself.”

      “Oh, we will not be particular,” exclaimed Richard; “the Judge will pay you in the morning for the whole deer; and, Remarkable, give the lad all the animal excepting the saddle; so, on the whole, I think you may consider yourself as a very lucky young man—you have been shot without being disabled; have had the wound dressed in the best possible manner here in the woods, as well as it would have been done in the Philadelphia hospital, if not better; have sold your deer at a high price, and yet can keep most of the carcass, with the skin in the bargain. 'Marky, tell Tom to give him the skin too, and in the morning bring the skin to me and I will give you half a dollar for it, or at least three-and-sixpence. I want just such a skin to cover the pillion that I am making for Cousin Bess.”

      “I thank you, sir, for your liberality, and, I trust, am also thankful for my escape,” returned the stranger; “but you reserve the very part of the animal that I wished for my own use. I must have the saddle myself.”

      “Must!” echoed Richard; “must is harder to be swallowed than the horns of the buck.”

      “Yes, must,” repeated the youth; when, turning his head proudly around him, as if to see who would dare to controvert his rights, he met the astonished gaze of Elizabeth, and proceeded more mildly: “That is, if a man is allowed the possession of that which his hand hath killed, and the law will protect him in the enjoyment of his own.”

      “The law will do so,” said Judge Temple, with an air of mortification mingled with surprise. “Benjamin, see that the whole deer is placed in the sleigh; and have this youth conveyed to the hut of Leather Stocking. But, young man thou hast a name, and I shall see you again, in order to compensate thee for the wrong I have done thee?”

      “I am called Edwards,” returned the hunter; “Oliver Edwards, I am easily to be seen, sir, for I live nigh by, and am not afraid to show my face, having never injured any man.”

      “It is we who have injured you, sir,” said Elizabeth; “and the knowledge that you decline our assistance would give my father great pain. He would gladly see you in the morning.”

      The young hunter gazed at the fair speaker until his earnest look brought the blood to her temples; when, recollecting himself, he bent his head, dropping his eyes to the carpet, and replied:

      “In the morning, then, will I return, and see Judge Temple; and I will accept his offer of the sleigh in token of amity.”

      “Amity!” repeated Marmaduke; “there was no malice in the act that injured thee, young man; there should be none in the feelings which it may engender.”

      “Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” observed Mr. Grant, “is the language used by our Divine Master himself, and it should be the golden rule with us, his humble followers.”

      The stranger stood a moment lost in thought, and then, glancing his dark eyes rather wildly around the hall, he bowed low to the divine, and moved from the apartment with an air that would not admit of detention.

      “'Tis strange that one so young should harbor such feelings of resentment,” said Marmaduke, when the door closed behind the stranger; “but while the pain is recent, and the sense of the injury so fresh, he must feel more strongly than in cooler moments. I doubt not we shall see him in the morning more tractable.”

      Elizabeth, to whom this speech was addressed, did not reply, but moved slowly up the hall by herself, fixing her eyes on the little figure of the English ingrain carpet that covered the floor; while, on the other hand, Richard gave a loud crack with his whip, as the stranger disappeared, and cried:

      “Well, 'Duke, you are your own master, but I would have tried law for the saddle before I would have given it to the fellow. Do you not own the mountains as well as the valleys? are not the woods your own? what right has this chap, or the Leather-Stocking, to shoot in your woods without your permission? Now, I have known a farmer in Pennsylvania order a sportsman off his farm with as little ceremony as I would order Benjamin to put a log in the stove—By-the-bye, Benjamin, see how the thermometer stands.—Now, if a man has a right to do this on a farm of a hundred acres, what power must a landlord have who owns sixty thousand—ay, for the matter of that, including the late purchases, a hundred thousand? There is Mohegan, to be sure, he may have some right, being a native; but it's little the poor fellow can do now with his rifle. How is this managed in France, Monsieur Le Quoi? Do you let everybody run over your land in that country helter-skelter, as they do here, shooting the game, so that a gentleman has but little or no chance with his gun?”

      “Bah! diable, no, Meester Deeck,” replied the Frenchman; “we give, in France, no liberty except to the ladi.”

      “Yes, yes, to the women, I know,” said Richard, “that is your Salic law. I read, sir, all kinds of books; of France, as well as England; of Greece, as well as Rome. But if I were in 'Duke's place, I would stick up advertisements to-morrow morning, forbidding all persons to shoot, or trespass in any manner, on my woods. I could write such an advertisement myself, in an hour, as would put a stop to the thing at once.”

      “Richart,” said Major Hartmann, very coolly knocking the ashes from his pipe into the spitting-box by his side, “now listen; I have livet seventy-five years on ter Mohawk, and in ter woots. You had better mettle as mit ter deyvel, as mit ter hunters, Tey live mit ter gun, and a rifle is better as ter law.”

      “Ain't Marmaduke a judge?” said Richard indignantly. “Where is the use of being a judge, or having a judge, if there is no law? Damn the fellow! I have a great mind to sue him in the morning myself, before Squire Doolittle, for meddling with my leaders. I am not afraid of his rifle. I can shoot, too. I have hit a dollar