prompt:
Chapter: CHAPTER XXXIX

SHE wondered all the way home what her sensations would be. She wondered
about it so much that she had every sensation she had imagined. She was
excited by each familiar porch, each hearty "Well, well!" and flattered
to be, for a day, the most important news of the community. She bustled
about, making calls. Juanita Haydock bubbled over their Washington
encounter, and took Carol to her social bosom. This ancient opponent
seemed likely to be her most intimate friend, for Vida Sherwin, though
she was cordial, stood back and watched for imported heresies.

In the evening Carol went to the mill. The mystical Om-Om-Om of the
dynamos in the electric-light plant behind the mill was louder in the
darkness. Outside sat the night watchman, Champ Perry. He held up his
stringy hands and squeaked, "We've all missed you terrible."

Who in Washington would miss her?

Who in Washington could be depended upon like Guy Pollock? When she saw
him on the street, smiling as always, he seemed an eternal thing, a part
of her own self.

After a week she decided that she was neither glad nor sorry to be back.
She entered each day with the matter-of-fact attitude with which she
had gone to her office in Washington. It was her task; there would be
mechanical details and meaningless talk; what of it?

The only problem which she had approached with emotion proved
insignificant. She had, on the train, worked herself up to such devotion
that she was willing to give up her own room, to try to share all of her
life with Kennicott.

He mumbled, ten minutes after she had entered the house, "Say, I've kept
your room for you like it was. I've kind of come round to your way of
thinking. Don't see why folks need to get on each other's nerves just
because they're friendly. Darned if I haven't got so I like a little
privacy and mulling things over by myself."

II

She had left a city which sat up nights to talk of universal transition;
of European revolution, guild socialism, free verse. She had fancied
that all the world was changing.

She found that it was not.

In Gopher Prairie the only ardent new topics were prohibition, the place
in Minneapolis where you could get whisky at thirteen dollars a quart,
recipes for home-made beer, the "high cost of living," the presidential
election, Clark's new car, and not very novel foibles of Cy Bogart.
Their problems were exactly what they had been two years ago, what they
had been twenty years ago, and what they would be for twenty years to
come. With the world a possible volcano, the husbandmen were plowing at
the base of the mountain. A volcano does occasionally drop a river
of lava on even the best of agriculturists, to their astonishment and
considerable injury, but their cousins inherit the farms and a year or
two later go back to the plowing.

She was unable to rhapsodize much over the seven new bungalows and the
two garages which Kennicott had made to seem so important. Her intensest
thought about them was, "Oh yes, they're all right I suppose." The
change which she did heed was the erection of the schoolbuilding, with
its cheerful brick walls, broad windows, gymnasium, classrooms for
agriculture and cooking. It indicated Vida's triumph, and it stirred her
to activity--any activity. She went to Vida with a jaunty, "I think I
shall work for you. And I'll begin at the bottom."

She did. She relieved the attendant at the rest-room for an hour a
day. Her only innovation was painting the pine table a black and orange
rather shocking to the Thanatopsis. She talked to the farmwives and
soothed their babies and was happy.

Thinking of them she did not think of the ugliness of Main Street as she
hurried along it to the chatter of the Jolly Seventeen.

She wore her eye-glasses on the street now. She was beginning to ask
Kennicott and Juanita if she didn't look young, much younger than
thirty-three. The eye-glasses pinched her nose. She considered
spectacles. They would make her seem older, and hopelessly settled.
No! She would not wear spectacles yet. But she tried on a pair at
Kennicott's office. They really were much more comfortable.

III

Dr. Westlake, Sam Clark, Nat Hicks, and Del Snafflin were talking in
Del's barber shop.

"Well, I see Kennicott's wife is taking a whirl at the rest-room, now,"
said Dr. Westlake. He emphasized the "now."

Del interrupted the shaving of Sam and, with his brush dripping lather,
he observed jocularly:

"What'll she be up to next? They say she used to claim this burg wasn't
swell enough for a city girl like her, and would we please tax ourselves
about thirty-seven point nine and fix it all up pretty, with tidies on
the hydrants and statoos on the lawns----"

Sam irritably blew the lather from his lips, with milky small bubbles,
and snorted, "Be a good thing for most of us roughnecks if we did have
a smart woman to tell us how to fix up the town. Just as much to her
kicking as there was to Jim Blausser's gassing about factories. And you
can bet Mrs. Kennicott is smart, even if she is skittish. Glad to see
her back."

Dr. Westlake hastened to play safe. "So was I! So was I! She's got a
nice way about her, and she knows a good deal about books, or fiction
anyway. Of course she's like all the rest of these women--not
solidly founded--not scholarly--doesn't know anything about political
economy--falls for every new idea that some windjamming crank puts out.
But she's a nice woman. She'll probably fix up the rest-room, and the
rest-room is a fine thing, brings a lot of business to town. And now
that Mrs. Kennicott's been away, maybe she's got over some of her fool
ideas. Maybe she realizes that folks simply laugh at her when she tries
to tell us how to run everything."

"Sure. She'll take a tumble to herself," said Nat Hicks, sucking in
his lips judicially. "As far as I'm concerned, I'll say she's as nice a
looking skirt as there is in town. But yow!" His tone electrified them.
"Guess she'll miss that Swede Valborg that used to work for me! They was
a pair! Talking poetry and moonshine! If they could of got away with it,
they'd of been so darn lovey-dovey----"

Sam Clark interrupted, "Rats, they never even thought about making love,
Just talking books and all that junk. I tell you, Carrie Kennicott's
a smart woman, and these smart educated women all get funny ideas, but
they get over 'em after they've had three or four kids. You'll see her
settled down one of these days, and teaching Sunday School and helping
at sociables and behaving herself, and not trying to butt into business
and politics. Sure!"

After only fifteen minutes of conference on her stockings, her son, her
separate bedroom, her music, her ancient interest in Guy Pollock, her
probable salary in Washington, and every remark which she was known to
have made since her return, the supreme council decided that they would
permit Carol Kennicott to live, and they passed on to a consideration of
Nat Hicks's New One about the traveling salesman and the old maid.

IV

For some reason which was totally mysterious to Carol, Maud Dyer seemed
to resent her return. At the Jolly Seventeen Maud giggled nervously,
"Well, I suppose you found war-work a good excuse to stay away and have
a swell time. Juanita! Don't you think we ought to make Carrie tell us
about the officers she met in Washington?"

They rustled and stared. Carol looked at them. Their curiosity seemed
natural and unimportant.

"Oh yes, yes indeed, have to do that some day," she yawned.

She no longer took Aunt Bessie Smail seriously enough to struggle for
independence. She saw that Aunt Bessie did not mean to intrude; that
she wanted to do things for all the Kennicotts. Thus Carol hit upon the
tragedy of old age, which is not that it is less vigorous than youth,
but that it is not needed by youth; that its love and prosy sageness,
so important a few years ago, so gladly offered now, are rejected
with laughter. She divined that when Aunt Bessie came in with a jar of
wild-grape jelly she was waiting in hope of being asked for the recipe.
After that she could be irritated but she could not be depressed by Aunt
Bessie's simoom of questioning.

She wasn't depressed even when she heard Mrs. Bogart observe, "Now we've
got prohibition it seems to me that the next problem of the country
ain't so much abolishing cigarettes as it is to make folks observe the
Sabbath and arrest these law-breakers that play baseball and go to the
movies and all on the Lord's Day."

Only one thing bruised Carol's vanity. Few people asked her about
Washington. They who had most admiringly begged Percy Bresnahan for his
opinions were least interested in her facts. She laughed at herself when
she saw that she had expected to be at once a heretic and a returned
hero; she was very reasonable and merry about it; and it hurt just as
much as ever.

Her baby, born in August, was a girl. Carol could not decide whether she
was to become a feminist leader or marry a scientist or both, but did
settle on Vassar and a tricolette suit with a small black hat for her
Freshman year.

VI

Hugh was loquacious at breakfast. He desired to give his impressions of
owls and F Street.

"Don't make so much noise. You talk too much," growled Kennicott.

Carol flared. "Don't speak to him that way! Why don't you listen to him?
He has some very interesting things to tell."

"What's the idea? Mean to say you expect me to spend all my time
listening to his chatter?"

"Why not?"

"For one thing, he's got to learn a little discipline. Time for him to
start getting educated."

"I've learned much more discipline, I've had much more education, from
him than he has from me."

"What's this? Some new-fangled idea of raising kids you got in
Washington?"

"Perhaps. Did you ever realize that children are people?"

"That's all right. I'm not going to have him monopolizing the
conversation."

"No, of course. We have our rights, too. But I'm going to bring him up
as a human being. He has just as many thoughts as we have, and I want
him to develop them, not take Gopher Prairie's version of them. That's
my biggest work now--keeping myself, keeping you, from 'educating' him."

"Well, let's not scrap about it. But I'm not going to have him spoiled."

Kennicott had forgotten it in ten minutes; and she forgot it--this time.

VII

The Kennicotts and the Sam Clarks had driven north to a duck-pass
between two lakes, on an autumn day of blue and copper.

Kennicott had given her a light twenty-gauge shotgun. She had a first
lesson in shooting, in keeping her eyes open, not wincing, understanding
that the bead at the end of the barrel really had something to do with
pointing the gun. She was radiant; she almost believed Sam when he
insisted that it was she who had shot the mallard at which they had
fired together.

She sat on the bank of the reedy lake and found rest in Mrs. Clark's
drawling comments on nothing. The brown dusk was still. Behind them were
dark marshes. The plowed acres smelled fresh. The lake was garnet and
silver. The voices of the men, waiting for the last flight, were clear
in the cool air.

"Mark left!" sang Kennicott, in a long-drawn call.

Three ducks were swooping down in a swift line. The guns banged, and
a duck fluttered. The men pushed their light boat out on the burnished
lake, disappeared beyond the reeds. Their cheerful voices and the slow
splash and clank of oars came back to Carol from the dimness. In the sky
a fiery plain sloped down to a serene harbor. It dissolved; the lake
was white marble; and Kennicott was crying, "Well, old lady, how about
hiking out for home? Supper taste pretty good, eh?"

"I'll sit back with Ethel," she said, at the car.

It was the first time she had called Mrs. Clark by her given name; the
first time she had willingly sat back, a woman of Main Street.

"I'm hungry. It's good to be hungry," she reflected, as they drove away.

She looked across the silent fields to the west. She was conscious of an
unbroken sweep of land to the Rockies, to Alaska, a dominion which
will rise to unexampled greatness when other empires have grown senile.
Before that time, she knew, a hundred generations of Carols will aspire
and go down in tragedy devoid of palls and solemn chanting, the humdrum
inevitable tragedy of struggle against inertia.

"Let's all go to the movies tomorrow night. Awfully exciting film," said
Ethel Clark.

"Well, I was going to read a new book but----All right, let's go," said
Carol.

VIII

"They're too much for me," Carol sighed to Kennicott. "I've been
thinking about getting up an annual Community Day, when the whole town
would forget feuds and go out and have sports and a picnic and a dance.
But Bert Tybee (why did you ever elect him mayor?)--he's kidnapped my
idea. He wants the Community Day, but he wants to have some politician
'give an address.' That's just the stilted sort of thing I've tried to
avoid. He asked Vida, and of course she agreed with him."

Kennicott considered the matter while he wound the clock and they
tramped up-stairs.

"Yes, it would jar you to have Bert butting in," he said amiably. "Are
you going to do much fussing over this Community stunt? Don't you ever
get tired of fretting and stewing and experimenting?"

"I haven't even started. Look!" She led him to the nursery door, pointed
at the fuzzy brown head of her daughter. "Do you see that object on the
pillow? Do you know what it is? It's a bomb to blow up smugness. If you
Tories were wise, you wouldn't arrest anarchists; you'd arrest all these
children while they're asleep in their cribs. Think what that baby will
see and meddle with before she dies in the year 2000! She may see an
industrial union of the whole world, she may see aeroplanes going to
Mars."

"Yump, probably be changes all right," yawned Kennicott.

She sat on the edge of his bed while he hunted through his bureau for a
collar which ought to be there and persistently wasn't.

"I'll go on, always. And I am happy. But this Community Day makes me see
how thoroughly I'm beaten."

"That darn collar certainly is gone for keeps," muttered Kennicott and,
louder, "Yes, I guess you----I didn't quite catch what you said, dear."

She patted his pillows, turned down his sheets, as she reflected:

"But I have won in this: I've never excused my failures by sneering at
my aspirations, by pretending to have gone beyond them. I do not admit
that Main Street is as beautiful as it should be! I do not admit that
Gopher Prairie is greater or more generous than Europe! I do not admit
that dish-washing is enough to satisfy all women! I may not have fought
the good fight, but I have kept the faith."

"Sure. You bet you have," said Kennicott. "Well, good night. Sort of
feels to me like it might snow tomorrow. Have to be thinking about
putting up the storm-windows pretty soon. Say, did you notice whether
the girl put that screwdriver back?"

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Comforted by Gopher Prairie's familiarity Carol is neither glad nor sorry to be back. It is simply her task, like going to work, to live there. She resolves to help Vida Sherwin and takes a shift at the rest room for the farmer's wives. She begins to wear spectacles in public. In general, the town accepts her and she accepts the town. In August she gives birth to a daughter. She realizes, with some satisfaction, that though she hasn't always fought the good fight she's maintained her faith despite Main Street.


prompt:
Chapter: "There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
    There is a rapture on the lonely shore.
    There is society where none intrudes,
    By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
    I love not man the less, but nature more,
    From these our interviews, in which I steal
    From all I may be, or have been before,
    To mingle with the universe, and feel
    What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal"

    Childe Harold.

On the human imagination events produce the effects of time. Thus, he
who has travelled far and seen much is apt to fancy that he has lived
long; and the history that most abounds in important incidents soonest
assumes the aspect of antiquity. In no other way can we account for the
venerable air that is already gathering around American annals. When the
mind reverts to the earliest days of colonial history, the period seems
remote and obscure, the thousand changes that thicken along the links
of recollections, throwing back the origin of the nation to a day so
distant as seemingly to reach the mists of time; and yet four lives of
ordinary duration would suffice to transmit, from mouth to mouth, in the
form of tradition, all that civilized man has achieved within the
limits of the republic. Although New York alone possesses a population
materially exceeding that of either of the four smallest kingdoms of
Europe, or materially exceeding that of the entire Swiss Confederation,
it is little more than two centuries since the Dutch commenced their
settlement, rescuing the region from the savage state. Thus, what seems
venerable by an accumulation of changes is reduced to familiarity when
we come seriously to consider it solely in connection with time.

This glance into the perspective of the past will prepare the reader to
look at the pictures we are about to sketch, with less surprise than he
might otherwise feel; and a few additional explanations may carry him
back in imagination to the precise condition of society that we desire
to delineate. It is matter of history that the settlements on the
eastern shores of the Hudson, such as Claverack, Kinderhook, and even
Poughkeepsie, were not regarded as safe from Indian incursions a century
since; and there is still standing on the banks of the same river, and
within musket-shot of the wharves of Albany, a residence of a younger
branch of the Van Rensselaers, that has loopholes constructed for
defence against the same crafty enemy, although it dates from a period
scarcely so distant. Other similar memorials of the infancy of the
country are to be found, scattered through what is now deemed the very
centre of American civilization, affording the plainest proofs that all
we possess of security from invasion and hostile violence is the growth
of but little more than the time that is frequently fulfilled by a
single human life.

The incidents of this tale occurred between the years 1740 and 1745,
when the settled portions of the colony of New York were confined to
the four Atlantic counties, a narrow belt of country on each side of the
Hudson, extending from its mouth to the falls near its head, and to
a few advanced "neighborhoods" on the Mohawk and the Schoharie. Broad
belts of the virgin wilderness not only reached the shores of the first
river, but they even crossed it, stretching away into New England, and
affording forest covers to the noiseless moccasin of the native warrior,
as he trod the secret and bloody war-path. A bird's-eye view of the
whole region east of the Mississippi must then have offered one
vast expanse of woods, relieved by a comparatively narrow fringe of
cultivation along the sea, dotted by the glittering surfaces of lakes,
and intersected by the waving lines of river. In such a vast picture of
solemn solitude, the district of country we design to paint sinks into
insignificance, though we feel encouraged to proceed by the conviction
that, with slight and immaterial distinctions, he who succeeds in giving
an accurate idea of any portion of this wild region must necessarily
convey a tolerably correct notion of the whole.

Whatever may be the changes produced by man, the eternal round of the
seasons is unbroken. Summer and winter, seed-time and harvest, return in
their stated order with a sublime precision, affording to man one of the
noblest of all the occasions he enjoys of proving the high powers of
his far-reaching mind, in compassing the laws that control their exact
uniformity, and in calculating their never-ending revolutions.

Centuries of summer suns had warmed the tops of the same noble oaks and
pines, sending their heats even to the tenacious roots, when voices were
heard calling to each other, in the depths of a forest, of which the
leafy surface lay bathed in the brilliant light of a cloudless day
in June, while the trunks of the trees rose in gloomy grandeur in the
shades beneath. The calls were in different tones, evidently proceeding
from two men who had lost their way, and were searching in different
directions for their path. At length a shout proclaimed success, and
presently a man of gigantic mould broke out of the tangled labyrinth
of a small swamp, emerging into an opening that appeared to have been
formed partly by the ravages of the wind, and partly by those of fire.
This little area, which afforded a good view of the sky, although it was
pretty well filled with dead trees, lay on the side of one of the high
hills, or low mountains, into which nearly the whole surface of the
adjacent country was broken.

"Here is room to breathe in!" exclaimed the liberated forester, as soon
as he found himself under a clear sky, shaking his huge frame like a
mastiff that has just escaped from a snowbank. "Hurrah! Deerslayer; here
is daylight, at last, and yonder is the lake."

These words were scarcely uttered when the second forester dashed
aside the bushes of the swamp, and appeared in the area. After making
a hurried adjustment of his arms and disordered dress, he joined his
companion, who had already begun his disposition for a halt.

"Do you know this spot!" demanded the one called Deerslayer, "or do you
shout at the sight of the sun?"

"Both, lad, both; I know the spot, and am not sorry to see so useful
a fri'nd as the sun. Now we have got the p'ints of the compass in our
minds once more, and 't will be our own faults if we let anything turn
them topsy-turvy ag'in, as has just happened. My name is not Hurry
Harry, if this be not the very spot where the land-hunters camped the
last summer, and passed a week. See I yonder are the dead bushes of
their bower, and here is the spring. Much as I like the sun, boy, I've
no occasion for it to tell me it is noon; this stomach of mine is as
good a time-piece as is to be found in the colony, and it already p'ints
to half-past twelve. So open the wallet, and let us wind up for another
six hours' run."

At this suggestion, both set themselves about making the preparations
necessary for their usual frugal but hearty meal. We will profit by this
pause in the discourse to give the reader some idea of the appearance of
the men, each of whom is destined to enact no insignificant part in our
legend.

It would not have been easy to find a more noble specimen of vigorous
manhood than was offered in the person of him who called himself Hurry
Harry. His real name was Henry March but the frontiersmen having caught
the practice of giving sobriquets from the Indians, the appellation of
Hurry was far oftener applied to him than his proper designation, and
not unfrequently he was termed Hurry Skurry, a nickname he had obtained
from a dashing, reckless offhand manner, and a physical restlessness
that kept him so constantly on the move, as to cause him to be known
along the whole line of scattered habitations that lay between the
province and the Canadas. The stature of Hurry Harry exceeded six feet
four, and being unusually well proportioned, his strength fully realized
the idea created by his gigantic frame. The face did no discredit to the
rest of the man, for it was both good-humored and handsome. His air was
free, and though his manner necessarily partook of the rudeness of a
border life, the grandeur that pervaded so noble a physique prevented it
from becoming altogether vulgar.

Deerslayer, as Hurry called his companion, was a very different person
in appearance, as well as in character. In stature he stood about
six feet in his moccasins, but his frame was comparatively light and
slender, showing muscles, however, that promised unusual agility, if not
unusual strength. His face would have had little to recommend it except
youth, were it not for an expression that seldom failed to win upon
those who had leisure to examine it, and to yield to the feeling of
confidence it created. This expression was simply that of guileless
truth, sustained by an earnestness of purpose, and a sincerity of
feeling, that rendered it remarkable. At times this air of integrity
seemed to be so simple as to awaken the suspicion of a want of the
usual means to discriminate between artifice and truth; but few came in
serious contact with the man, without losing this distrust in respect
for his opinions and motives.

Both these frontiersmen were still young, Hurry having reached the
age of six or eight and twenty, while Deerslayer was several years his
junior. Their attire needs no particular description, though it may
be well to add that it was composed in no small degree of dressed
deer-skins, and had the usual signs of belonging to those who pass their
time between the skirts of civilized society and the boundless forests.
There was, notwithstanding, some attention to smartness and the
picturesque in the arrangements of Deerslayer's dress, more particularly
in the part connected with his arms and accoutrements. His rifle was in
perfect condition, the handle of his hunting-knife was neatly carved,
his powder-horn was ornamented with suitable devices lightly cut into
the material, and his shot-pouch was decorated with wampum.

On the other hand, Hurry Harry, either from constitutional recklessness,
or from a secret consciousness how little his appearance required
artificial aids, wore everything in a careless, slovenly manner, as
if he felt a noble scorn for the trifling accessories of dress and
ornaments. Perhaps the peculiar effect of his fine form and great
stature was increased rather than lessened, by this unstudied and
disdainful air of indifference.

"Come, Deerslayer, fall to, and prove that you have a Delaware stomach,
as you say you have had a Delaware edication," cried Hurry, setting the
example by opening his mouth to receive a slice of cold venison steak
that would have made an entire meal for a European peasant; "fall to,
lad, and prove your manhood on this poor devil of a doe with your teeth,
as you've already done with your rifle."

"Nay, nay, Hurry, there's little manhood in killing a doe, and that too
out of season; though there might be some in bringing down a painter
or a catamount," returned the other, disposing himself to comply. "The
Delawares have given me my name, not so much on account of a bold heart,
as on account of a quick eye, and an actyve foot. There may not be any
cowardyce in overcoming a deer, but sartain it is, there's no great
valor."

"The Delawares themselves are no heroes," muttered Hurry through his
teeth, the mouth being too full to permit it to be fairly opened, "or
they would never have allowed them loping vagabonds, the Mingos, to make
them women."

"That matter is not rightly understood--has never been rightly
explained," said Deerslayer earnestly, for he was as zealous a friend as
his companion was dangerous as an enemy; "the Mengwe fill the woods with
their lies, and misconstruct words and treaties. I have now lived ten
years with the Delawares, and know them to be as manful as any other
nation, when the proper time to strike comes."

"Harkee, Master Deerslayer, since we are on the subject, we may as
well open our minds to each other in a man-to-man way; answer me one
question; you have had so much luck among the game as to have gotten
a title, it would seem, but did you ever hit anything human or
intelligible: did you ever pull trigger on an inimy that was capable of
pulling one upon you?"

This question produced a singular collision between mortification and
correct feeling, in the bosom of the youth, that was easily to be traced
in the workings of his ingenuous countenance. The struggle was short,
however; uprightness of heart soon getting the better of false pride and
frontier boastfulness.

"To own the truth, I never did," answered Deerslayer; "seeing that a
fitting occasion never offered. The Delawares have been peaceable since
my sojourn with 'em, and I hold it to be onlawful to take the life of
man, except in open and generous warfare."

"What! did you never find a fellow thieving among your traps and
skins, and do the law on him with your own hands, by way of saving the
magistrates trouble in the settlements, and the rogue himself the cost
of the suit!"

"I am no trapper, Hurry," returned the young man proudly: "I live by the
rifle, a we'pon at which I will not turn my back on any man of my years,
atween the Hudson and the St. Lawrence. I never offer a skin that has
not a hole in its head besides them which natur' made to see with or to
breathe through."

"Ay, ay, this is all very well, in the animal way, though it makes but a
poor figure alongside of scalps and ambushes. Shooting an Indian from an
ambush is acting up to his own principles, and now we have what you call
a lawful war on our hands, the sooner you wipe that disgrace off your
character, the sounder will be your sleep; if it only come from knowing
there is one inimy the less prowling in the woods. I shall not frequent
your society long, friend Natty, unless you look higher than four-footed
beasts to practice your rifle on."

"Our journey is nearly ended, you say, Master March, and we can part
to-night, if you see occasion. I have a fri'nd waiting for me, who will
think it no disgrace to consort with a fellow-creatur' that has never
yet slain his kind."

"I wish I knew what has brought that skulking Delaware into this part of
the country so early in the season," muttered Hurry to himself, in a way
to show equally distrust and a recklessness of its betrayal. "Where did
you say the young chief was to give you the meeting?"

"At a small round rock, near the foot of the lake, where they tell me,
the tribes are given to resorting to make their treaties, and to bury
their hatchets. This rock have I often heard the Delawares mention,
though lake and rock are equally strangers to me. The country is claimed
by both Mingos and Mohicans, and is a sort of common territory to
fish and hunt through, in time of peace, though what it may become in
war-time, the Lord only knows!"

"Common territory" exclaimed Hurry, laughing aloud. "I should like to
know what Floating Tom Hutter would say to that! He claims the lake as
his own property, in vartue of fifteen years' possession, and will not
be likely to give it up to either Mingo or Delaware without a battle for
it!"

"And what will the colony say to such a quarrel--all this country must
have some owner, the gentry pushing their cravings into the wilderness,
even where they never dare to ventur', in their own persons, to look at
the land they own."

"That may do in other quarters of the colony, Deerslayer, but it will
not do here. Not a human being, the Lord excepted, owns a foot of sile
in this part of the country. Pen was never put to paper consarning
either hill or valley hereaway, as I've heard old Tom say time and
ag'in, and so he claims the best right to it of any man breathing; and
what Tom claims, he'll be very likely to maintain."

"By what I've heard you say, Hurry, this Floating Tom must be an
oncommon mortal; neither Mingo, Delaware, nor pale-face. His possession,
too, has been long, by your tell, and altogether beyond frontier
endurance. What's the man's history and natur'?"

"Why, as to old Tom's human natur', it is not much like other men's
human natur', but more like a muskrat's human natar', seeing that he
takes more to the ways of that animal than to the ways of any other
fellow-creatur'. Some think he was a free liver on the salt water, in
his youth, and a companion of a sartain Kidd, who was hanged for piracy,
long afore you and I were born or acquainted, and that he came up into
these regions, thinking that the king's cruisers could never cross the
mountains, and that he might enjoy the plunder peaceably in the woods."

"Then he was wrong, Hurry; very wrong. A man can enjoy plunder peaceably
nowhere."

"That's much as his turn of mind may happen to be. I've known them
that never could enjoy it at all, unless it was in the midst of a
jollification, and them again that enjoyed it best in a corner. Some
men have no peace if they don't find plunder, and some if they do. Human
nature' is crooked in these matters. Old Tom seems to belong to neither
set, as he enjoys his, if plunder he has really got, with his darters,
in a very quiet and comfortable way, and wishes for no more."

"Ay, he has darters, too; I've heard the Delawares, who've hunted this
a way, tell their histories of these young women. Is there no mother,
Hurry?"

"There was once, as in reason; but she has now been dead and sunk these
two good years."

"Anan?" said Deerslayer, looking up at his companion in a little
surprise.

"Dead and sunk, I say, and I hope that's good English. The old fellow
lowered his wife into the lake, by way of seeing the last of her, as I
can testify, being an eye-witness of the ceremony; but whether Tom
did it to save digging, which is no easy job among roots, or out of a
consait that water washes away sin sooner than 'arth, is more than I can
say."

"Was the poor woman oncommon wicked, that her husband should take so
much pains with her body?"

"Not onreasonable; though she had her faults. I consider Judith Hutter
to have been as graceful, and about as likely to make a good ind as
any woman who had lived so long beyond the sound of church bells; and I
conclude old Tom sunk her as much by way of saving pains, as by way of
taking it. There was a little steel in her temper, it's true, and,
as old Hutter is pretty much flint, they struck out sparks
once-and-a-while; but, on the whole, they might be said to live amicable
like. When they did kindle, the listeners got some such insights into
their past lives, as one gets into the darker parts of the woods, when
a stray gleam of sunshine finds its way down to the roots of the trees.
But Judith I shall always esteem, as it's recommend enough to one woman
to be the mother of such a creatur' as her darter, Judith Hutter!"

"Ay, Judith was the name the Delawares mentioned, though it was
pronounced after a fashion of their own. From their discourse, I do not
think the girl would much please my fancy."

"Thy fancy!" exclaimed March, taking fire equally at the indifference
and at the presumption of his companion, "what the devil have you to do
with a fancy, and that, too, consarning one like Judith? You are but a
boy--a sapling, that has scarce got root. Judith has had men among her
suitors, ever since she was fifteen; which is now near five years; and
will not be apt even to cast a look upon a half-grown creatur' like
you!"

"It is June, and there is not a cloud atween us and the sun, Hurry,
so all this heat is not wanted," answered the other, altogether
undisturbed; "any one may have a fancy, and a squirrel has a right to
make up his mind touching a catamount."

"Ay, but it might not be wise, always, to let the catamount know it,"
growled March. "But you're young and thoughtless, and I'll overlook your
ignorance. Come, Deerslayer," he added, with a good-natured laugh, after
pausing a moment to reflect, "come, Deerslayer, we are sworn friends,
and will not quarrel about a light-minded, jilting jade, just because
she happens to be handsome; more especially as you have never seen
her. Judith is only for a man whose teeth show the full marks, and it's
foolish to be afeard of a boy. What did the Delawares say of the hussy?
for an Indian, after all, has his notions of woman-kind, as well as a
white man."

"They said she was fair to look on, and pleasant of speech; but
over-given to admirers, and light-minded."

"They are devils incarnate! After all, what schoolmaster is a match for
an Indian, in looking into natur'! Some people think they are only good
on a trail or the war-path, but I say that they are philosophers, and
understand a man as well as they understand a beaver, and a woman as
well as they understand either. Now that's Judith's character to a
ribbon! To own the truth to you, Deerslayer, I should have married the
gal two years since, if it had not been for two particular things, one
of which was this very lightmindedness."

"And what may have been the other?" demanded the hunter, who continued
to eat like one that took very little interest in the subject.

"T'other was an insartainty about her having me. The hussy is handsome,
and she knows it. Boy, not a tree that is growing in these hills is
straighter, or waves in the wind with an easier bend, nor did you ever
see the doe that bounded with a more nat'ral motion. If that was all,
every tongue would sound her praises; but she has such failings that I
find it hard to overlook them, and sometimes I swear I'll never visit
the lake again."

"Which is the reason that you always come back? Nothing is ever made
more sure by swearing about it."

"Ah, Deerslayer, you are a novelty in these particulars; keeping as true
to education as if you had never left the settlements. With me the case
is different, and I never want to clinch an idee, that I do not feel a
wish to swear about it. If you know'd all that I know consarning Judith,
you'd find a justification for a little cussing. Now, the officers
sometimes stray over to the lake, from the forts on the Mohawk, to fish
and hunt, and then the creatur' seems beside herself! You can see in the
manner which she wears her finery, and the airs she gives herself with
the gallants."

"That is unseemly in a poor man's darter," returned Deerslayer gravely,
"the officers are all gentry, and can only look on such as Judith with
evil intentions."

"There's the unsartainty, and the damper! I have my misgivings about a
particular captain, and Jude has no one to blame but her own folly, if
I'm right. On the whole, I wish to look upon her as modest and becoming,
and yet the clouds that drive among these hills are not more unsartain.
Not a dozen white men have ever laid eyes upon her since she was a
child, and yet her airs, with two or three of these officers, are
extinguishers!"

"I would think no more of such a woman, but turn my mind altogether to
the forest; that will not deceive you, being ordered and ruled by a hand
that never wavers."

"If you know'd Judith, you would see how much easier it is to say this
than it would be to do it. Could I bring my mind to be easy about the
officers, I would carry the gal off to the Mohawk by force, make her
marry me in spite of her whiffling, and leave old Tom to the care
of Hetty, his other child, who, if she be not as handsome or as
quick-witted as her sister, is much the most dutiful."

"Is there another bird in the same nest!" asked Deerslayer, raising his
eyes with a species of half-awakened curiosity, "the Delawares spoke to
me only of one."

"That's nat'ral enough, when Judith Hutter and Hetty Hutter are in
question. Hetty is only comely, while her sister, I tell thee, boy, is
such another as is not to be found atween this and the sea: Judith is as
full of wit, and talk, and cunning, as an old Indian orator, while poor
Hetty is at the best but 'compass' meant us."

"Anan?" inquired, again, the Deerslayer.

"Why, what the officers call 'compass meant us,' which I understand
to signify that she means always to go in the right direction, but
sometimes does not know how. 'Compass'for the p'int, and 'meant us' for
the intention. No, poor Hetty is what I call on the verge of ignorance,
and sometimes she stumbles on one side of the line, and sometimes on
t'other."

"Them are beings that the Lord has in his special care," said
Deerslayer, solemnly; "for he looks carefully to all who fall short of
their proper share of reason. The red-skins honor and respect them who
are so gifted, knowing that the Evil Spirit delights more to dwell in an
artful body, than in one that has no cunning to work upon."

"I'll answer for it, then, that he will not remain long with poor Hetty;
for the child is just 'compass meant us,' as I have told you. Old Tom
has a feeling for the gal, and so has Judith, quick-witted and glorious
as she is herself; else would I not answer for her being altogether safe
among the sort of men that sometimes meet on the lake shore."

"I thought this water an unknown and little-frequented sheet," observed
the Deerslayer, evidently uneasy at the idea of being too near the
world.

"It's all that, lad, the eyes of twenty white men never having been laid
on it; still, twenty true-bred frontiersmen--hunters and trappers, and
scouts, and the like,--can do a deal of mischief if they try. 'T would
be an awful thing to me, Deerslayer, did I find Judith married, after an
absence of six months!"

"Have you the gal's faith, to encourage you to hope otherwise?"

"Not at all. I know not how it is: I'm good-looking, boy,--that much I
can see in any spring on which the sun shines,--and yet I could not get
the hussy to a promise, or even a cordial willing smile, though she will
laugh by the hour. If she has dared to marry in my absence, she'd be
like to know the pleasures of widowhood afore she is twenty!"

"You would not harm the man she has chosen, Hurry, simply because she
found him more to her liking than yourself!"

"Why not! If an enemy crosses my path, will I not beat him out of it!
Look at me! am I a man like to let any sneaking, crawling, skin-trader
get the better of me in a matter that touches me as near as the kindness
of Judith Hutter! Besides, when we live beyond law, we must be our own
judges and executioners. And if a man should be found dead in the woods,
who is there to say who slew him, even admitting that the colony took
the matter in hand and made a stir about it?"

"If that man should be Judith Hutter's husband, after what has passed, I
might tell enough, at least, to put the colony on the trail."

"You!--half-grown, venison-hunting bantling! You dare to think of
informing against Hurry Harry in so much as a matter touching a mink or
a woodchuck!"

"I would dare to speak truth, Hurry, consarning you or any man that ever
lived."

March looked at his companion, for a moment, in silent amazement; then
seizing him by the throat with both hands, he shook his comparatively
slight frame with a violence that menaced the dislocation of some of the
bones. Nor was this done jocularly, for anger flashed from the giant's
eyes, and there were certain signs that seemed to threaten much more
earnestness than the occasion would appear to call for. Whatever might
be the real intention of March, and it is probable there was none
settled in his mind, it is certain that he was unusually aroused; and
most men who found themselves throttled by one of a mould so gigantic,
in such a mood, and in a solitude so deep and helpless, would have felt
intimidated, and tempted to yield even the right. Not so, however, with
Deerslayer. His countenance remained unmoved; his hand did not shake,
and his answer was given in a voice that did not resort to the artifice
of louder tones, even by way of proving its owner's resolution.

"You may shake, Hurry, until you bring down the mountain," he said
quietly, "but nothing beside truth will you shake from me. It is
probable that Judith Hutter has no husband to slay, and you may never
have a chance to waylay one, else would I tell her of your threat, in
the first conversation I held with the gal."

March released his grip, and sat regarding the other in silent
astonishment.

"I thought we had been friends," he at length added; "but you've got the
last secret of mine that will ever enter your ears."

"I want none, if they are to be like this. I know we live in the woods,
Hurry, and are thought to be beyond human laws,--and perhaps we are
so, in fact, whatever it may be in right,--but there is a law and a
law-maker, that rule across the whole continent. He that flies in the
face of either need not call me a friend."

"Damme, Deerslayer, if I do not believe you are at heart a Moravian, and
no fair-minded, plain-dealing hunter, as you've pretended to be!"

"Fair-minded or not, Hurry, you will find me as plaindealing in deeds
as I am in words. But this giving way to sudden anger is foolish, and
proves how little you have sojourned with the red man. Judith Hutter no
doubt is still single, and you spoke but as the tongue ran, and not as
the heart felt. There's my hand, and we will say and think no more about
it."

Hurry seemed more surprised than ever; then he burst forth in a loud,
good-natured laugh, which brought tears to his eyes. After this he
accepted the offered hand, and the parties became friends.

"'T would have been foolish to quarrel about an idee," March cried,
as he resumed his meal, "and more like lawyers in the towns than like
sensible men in the woods. They tell me, Deerslayer, much ill-blood
grows out of idees among the people in the lower counties, and that they
sometimes get to extremities upon them."

"That do they,--that do they; and about other matters that might better
be left to take care of themselves. I have heard the Moravians say that
there are lands in which men quarrel even consarning their religion; and
if they can get their tempers up on such a subject, Hurry, the Lord have
Marcy on 'em. Howsoever, there is no occasion for our following their
example, and more especially about a husband that this Judith Hutter
may never see, or never wish to see. For my part, I feel more cur'osity
about the feeble-witted sister than about your beauty. There's
something that comes close to a man's feelin's, when he meets with a
fellow-creatur' that has all the outward show of an accountable mortal,
and who fails of being what he seems, only through a lack of reason.
This is bad enough in a man, but when it comes to a woman, and she a
young, and maybe a winning creatur' it touches all the pitiful thoughts
his natur' has. God knows, Hurry, that such poor things be defenceless
enough with all their wits about 'em; but it's a cruel fortun' when that
great protector and guide fails 'em."

"Hark, Deerslayer,--you know what the hunters, and trappers, and
peltry-men in general be; and their best friends will not deny that
they are headstrong and given to having their own way, without much
bethinking 'em of other people's rights or feelin's,--and yet I don't
think the man is to be found, in all this region, who would harm Hetty
Hutter, if he could; no, not even a red-skin."

"Therein, fri'nd Hurry, you do the Delawares, at least, and all their
allied tribes, only justice, for a red-skin looks upon a being thus
struck by God's power as especially under his care. I rejoice to hear
what you say, however, I rejoice to hear it; but as the sun is beginning
to turn towards the afternoon's sky, had we not better strike the trail
again, and make forward, that we may get an opportunity of seeing these
wonderful sisters?"

Harry March giving a cheerful assent, the remnants of the meal were
soon collected; then the travelers shouldered their packs, resumed their
arms, and, quitting the little area of light, they again plunged into
the deep shadows of the forest.

    "Thou'rt passing from the lake's green side,
    And the hunter's hearth away;
    For the time of flowers, for the summer's pride,
    Daughter! thou canst not stay."

    Mrs.  Hemans, "Edith.  A Tale of the Woods" II.  191-94

Our two adventurers had not far to go. Hurry knew the direction, as soon
as he had found the open spot and the spring, and he now led on with the
confident step of a man assured of his object. The forest was dark, as a
matter of course, but it was no longer obstructed by underbrush, and the
footing was firm and dry. After proceeding near a mile, March stopped,
and began to cast about him with an inquiring look, examining the
different objects with care, and occasionally turning his eyes on the
trunks of the fallen trees, with which the ground was well sprinkled,
as is usually the case in an American wood, especially in those parts of
the country where timber has not yet become valuable.

"This must be the place, Deerslayer," March at length observed; "here is
a beech by the side of a hemlock, with three pines at hand, and yonder
is a white birch with a broken top; and yet I see no rock, nor any of
the branches bent down, as I told you would be the case."

"Broken branches are onskilful landmarks, as the least exper'enced know
that branches don't often break of themselves," returned the other; "and
they also lead to suspicion and discoveries. The Delawares never trust
to broken branches, unless it is in friendly times, and on an open
trail. As for the beeches, and pines, and hemlocks, why, they are to be
seen on all sides of us, not only by twos and threes, but by forties,
and fifties, and hundreds."

"Very true, Deerslayer, but you never calculate on position. Here is a
beech and a hemlock--"

"Yes, and there is another beech and a hemlock, as loving as two
brothers, or, for that matter, more loving than some brothers; and
yonder are others, for neither tree is a rarity in these woods. I fear
me, Hurry, you are better at trapping beaver and shooting bears, than
at leading on a blindish sort of a trail. Ha! there's what you wish to
find, a'ter all!"

"Now, Deerslayer, this is one of your Delaware pretensions, for hang me
if I see anything but these trees, which do seem to start up around us
in a most onaccountable and perplexing manner."

"Look this-a-way, Hurry--here, in a line with the black oak--don't
you see the crooked sapling that is hooked up in the branches of the
bass-wood, near it? Now, that sapling was once snow-ridden, and got
the bend by its weight; but it never straightened itself, and fastened
itself in among the bass-wood branches in the way you see. The hand of
man did that act of kindness for it."

"That hand was mine!" exclaimed Hurry; "I found the slender young
thing bent to the airth, like an unfortunate creatur' borne down by
misfortune, and stuck it up where you see it. After all, Deerslayer, I
must allow, you're getting to have an oncommon good eye for the woods!"

"'Tis improving, Hurry--'tis improving I will acknowledge; but 'tis only
a child's eye, compared to some I know. There's Tamenund, now, though
a man so old that few remember when he was in his prime, Tamenund lets
nothing escape his look, which is more like the scent of a hound than
the sight of an eye. Then Uncas, the father of Chingachgook, and the
lawful chief of the Mohicans, is another that it is almost hopeless to
pass unseen. I'm improving, I will allow--I'm improving, but far from
being perfect, as yet."

"And who is this Chingachgook, of whom you talk so much, Deerslayer!"
asked Hurry, as he moved off in the direction of the righted sapling; "a
loping red-skin, at the best, I make no question."

"Not so, Hurry, but the best of loping red-skins, as you call 'em. If he
had his rights, he would be a great chief; but, as it is, he is only
a brave and just-minded Delaware; respected, and even obeyed in some
things,'tis true, but of a fallen race, and belonging to a fallen
people. Ah! Harry March, 'twould warm the heart within you to sit in
their lodges of a winter's night, and listen to the traditions of the
ancient greatness and power of the Mohicans!"

"Harkee, fri'nd Nathaniel," said Hurry, stopping short to face his
companion, in order that his words might carry greater weight with them,
"if a man believed all that other people choose to say in their own
favor, he might get an oversized opinion of them, and an undersized
opinion of himself. These red-skins are notable boasters, and I set down
more than half of their traditions as pure talk."

"There is truth in what you say, Hurry, I'll not deny it, for I've seen
it, and believe it. They do boast, but then that is a gift from natur';
and it's sinful to withstand nat'ral gifts. See; this is the spot you
come to find!" This remark cut short the discourse, and both the men
now gave all their attention to the object immediately before them.
Deerslayer pointed out to his companion the trunk of a huge linden, or
bass-wood, as it is termed in the language of the country, which had
filled its time, and fallen by its own weight. This tree, like so many
millions of its brethren, lay where it had fallen, and was mouldering
under the slow but certain influence of the seasons. The decay, however,
had attacked its centre, even while it stood erect in the pride of
vegetation, bellowing out its heart, as disease sometimes destroys the
vitals of animal life, even while a fair exterior is presented to the
observer. As the trunk lay stretched for near a hundred feet along the
earth, the quick eye of the hunter detected this peculiarity, and from
this and other circumstances, he knew it to be the tree of which March
was in search.

"Ay, here we have what we want," cried Hurry, looking in at the larger
end of the linden; "everything is as snug as if it had been left in an
old woman's cupboard. Come, lend me a hand, Deerslayer, and we'll be
afloat in half an hour."

At this call the hunter joined his companion, and the two went to work
deliberately and regularly, like men accustomed to the sort of thing in
which they were employed. In the first place, Hurry removed some pieces
of bark that lay before the large opening in the tree, and which the
other declared to be disposed in a way that would have been more likely
to attract attention than to conceal the cover, had any straggler passed
that way. The two then drew out a bark canoe, containing its seats,
paddles, and other appliances, even to fishing-lines and rods. This
vessel was by no means small; but such was its comparative lightness,
and so gigantic was the strength of Hurry, that the latter shouldered it
with seeming ease, declining all assistance, even in the act of raising
it to the awkward position in which he was obliged to hold it.

"Lead ahead, Deerslayer," said March, "and open the bushes; the rest I
can do for myself."

The other obeyed, and the men left the spot, Deerslayer clearing the
way for his companion, and inclining to the right or to the left, as the
latter directed. In about ten minutes they both broke suddenly into the
brilliant light of the sun, on a low gravelly point, that was washed by
water on quite half its outline.

An exclamation of surprise broke from the lips of Deerslayer, an
exclamation that was low and guardedly made, however, for his habits
were much more thoughtful and regulated than those of the reckless
Hurry, when on reaching the margin of the lake, he beheld the view that
unexpectedly met his gaze. It was, in truth, sufficiently striking to
merit a brief description. On a level with the point lay a broad sheet
of water, so placid and limpid that it resembled a bed of the pure
mountain atmosphere, compressed into a setting of hills and woods.
Its length was about three leagues, while its breadth was irregular,
expanding to half a league, or even more, opposite to the point, and
contracting to less than half that distance, more to the southward. Of
course, its margin was irregular, being indented by bays, and broken
by many projecting, low points. At its northern, or nearest end, it was
bounded by an isolated mountain, lower land falling off east and west,
gracefully relieving the sweep of the outline. Still the character
of the country was mountainous; high hills, or low mountains, rising
abruptly from the water, on quite nine tenths of its circuit. The
exceptions, indeed, only served a little to vary the scene; and
even beyond the parts of the shore that were comparatively low, the
background was high, though more distant.

But the most striking peculiarities of this scene were its solemn
solitude and sweet repose. On all sides, wherever the eye turned,
nothing met it but the mirror-like surface of the lake, the placid view
of heaven, and the dense setting of woods. So rich and fleecy were the
outlines of the forest, that scarce an opening could be seen, the
whole visible earth, from the rounded mountain-top to the water's edge,
presenting one unvaried hue of unbroken verdure. As if vegetation were
not satisfied with a triumph so complete, the trees overhung the lake
itself, shooting out towards the light; and there were miles along its
eastern shore, where a boat might have pulled beneath the branches of
dark Rembrandt-looking hemlocks, "quivering aspens," and melancholy
pines. In a word, the hand of man had never yet defaced or deformed any
part of this native scene, which lay bathed in the sunlight, a glorious
picture of affluent forest grandeur, softened by the balminess of June,
and relieved by the beautiful variety afforded by the presence of so
broad an expanse of water.

"This is grand!--'tis solemn!--'tis an edication of itself, to look
upon!" exclaimed Deerslayer, as he stood leaning on his rifle, and
gazing to the right and left, north and south, above and beneath, in
whichever direction his eye could wander; "not a tree disturbed even by
red-skin hand, as I can discover, but everything left in the ordering of
the Lord, to live and die according to his own designs and laws! Hurry,
your Judith ought to be a moral and well disposed young woman, if
she has passed half the time you mention in the centre of a spot so
favored."

"That's naked truth; and yet the gal has the vagaries. All her time
has not been passed here, howsoever, old Tom having the custom, afore
I know'd him, of going to spend the winters in the neighborhood of the
settlers, or under the guns of the forts. No, no, Jude has caught
more than is for her good from the settlers, and especially from the
gallantifying officers."

"If she has--if she has, Hurry, this is a school to set her mind right
ag'in. But what is this I see off here, abreast of us, that seems too
small for an island, and too large for a boat, though it stands in the
midst of the water!

"Why, that is what these galantine gentry from the forts call Muskrat
Castle; and old Tom himself will grin at the name, though it bears so
hard on his own natur' and character. 'Tis the stationary house, there
being two; this, which never moves, and the other, that floats, being
sometimes in one part of the lake and sometimes in another. The last
goes by the name of the ark, though what may be the meaning of the word
is more than I can tell you."

"It must come from the missionaries, Hurry, whom I have heard speak
and read of such a thing. They say that the 'arth was once covered with
water, and that Noah, with his children, was saved from drowning by
building a vessel called an ark, in which he embarked in season. Some of
the Delawares believe this tradition, and some deny it; but it behooves
you and me, as white men born, to put our faith in its truth. Do you see
anything of this ark?"

"'Tis down south, no doubt, or anchored in some of the bays. But the
canoe is ready, and fifteen minutes will carry two such paddles as
your'n and mine to the castle."

At this suggestion, Deerslayer helped his companion to place the
different articles in the canoe, which was already afloat. This was no
sooner done than the two frontiermen embarked, and by a vigorous push
sent the light bark some eight or ten rods from the shore. Hurry now
took the seat in the stern, while Deerslayer placed himself forward, and
by leisurely but steady strokes of the paddles, the canoe glided across
the placid sheet, towards the extraordinary-looking structure that the
former had styled Muskrat Castle. Several times the men ceased paddling,
and looked about them at the scene, as new glimpses opened from behind
points, enabling them to see farther down the lake, or to get broader
views of the wooded mountains. The only changes, however, were in the
new forms of the hills, the varying curvature of the bays, and the wider
reaches of the valley south; the whole earth apparently being clothed in
a gala-dress of leaves.

"This is a sight to warm the heart!" exclaimed Deerslayer, when they had
thus stopped for the fourth or fifth time; "the lake seems made to let
us get an insight into the noble forests; and land and water alike stand
in the beauty of God's providence! Do you say, Hurry, that there is no
man who calls himself lawful owner of all these glories?"

"None but the King, lad. He may pretend to some right of that natur',
but he is so far away that his claim will never trouble old Tom Hutter,
who has got possession, and is like to keep it as long as his life
lasts. Tom is no squatter, not being on land; I call him a floater."

"I invy that man! I know it's wrong, and I strive ag'in the feelin', but
I invy that man! Don't think, Hurry, that I'm consorting any plan to put
myself in his moccasins, for such a thought doesn't harbor in my mind;
but I can't help a little invy! 'Tis a nat'ral feelin', and the best of
us are but nat'ral, a'ter all, and give way to such feelin's at times."

"You've only to marry Hetty to inherit half the estate," cried Hurry,
laughing; "the gal is comely; nay, if it wasn't for her sister's beauty
she would be even handsome; and then her wits are so small that you may
easily convart her into one of your own way of thinking, in all things.
Do you take Hetty off the old fellow's hands, and I'll engage he'll give
you an interest in every deer you can knock over within five miles of
his lake."

"Does game abound!" suddenly demanded the other, who paid but little
attention to March's raillery.

"It has the country to itself. Scarce a trigger is pulled on it; and as
for the trappers, this is not a region they greatly frequent. I ought
not to be so much here myself, but Jude pulls one way, while the beaver
pulls another. More than a hundred Spanish dollars has that creatur'
cost me the last two seasons, and yet I could not forego the wish to
look upon her face once more."

"Do the redmen often visit this lake, Hurry?" continued Deerslayer,
pursuing his own train of thought.

"Why, they come and go; sometimes in parties, and sometimes singly. The
country seems to belong to no native tribe in particular; and so it has
fallen into the hands of the Hutter tribe. The old man tells me that
some sharp ones have been wheedling the Mohawks for an Indian deed,
in order to get a title out of the colony; but nothing has come of it,
seeing that no one heavy enough for such a trade has yet meddled
with the matter. The hunters have a good life-lease still of this
wilderness."

"So much the better, so much the better, Hurry. If I was King of
England, the man that felled one of these trees without good occasion
for the timber, should be banished to a desarted and forlorn region, in
which no fourfooted animal ever trod. Right glad am I that Chingachgook
app'inted our meeting on this lake, for hitherto eye of mine never
looked on such a glorious spectacle."

"That's because you've kept so much among the Delawares, in whose
country there are no lakes. Now, farther north and farther west these
bits of water abound; and you're young, and may yet live to see 'em.
But though there be other lakes, Deerslayer, there's no other Judith
Hutter!"

At this remark his companion smiled, and then he dropped his paddle into
the water, as if in consideration of a lover's haste. Both now pulled
vigorously until they got within a hundred yards of the "castle," as
Hurry familiarly called the house of Hutter, when they again ceased
paddling; the admirer of Judith restraining his impatience the more
readily, as he perceived that the building was untenanted, at the
moment. This new pause was to enable Deerslayer to survey the singular
edifice, which was of a construction so novel as to merit a particular
description.

Muskrat Castle, as the house had been facetiously named by some waggish
officer, stood in the open lake, at a distance of fully a quarter of a
mile from the nearest shore. On every other side the water extended much
farther, the precise position being distant about two miles from the
northern end of the sheet, and near, if not quite, a mile from its
eastern shore. As there was not the smallest appearance of any island,
but the house stood on piles, with the water flowing beneath it, and
Deerslayer had already discovered that the lake was of a great depth,
he was fain to ask an explanation of this singular circumstance. Hurry
solved the difficulty by telling him that on this spot alone, a long,
narrow shoal, which extended for a few hundred yards in a north and
south direction, rose within six or eight feet of the surface of
the lake, and that Hutter had driven piles into it, and placed his
habitation on them, for the purpose of security.

"The old fellow was burnt out three times, atween the Indians and the
hunters; and in one affray with the red-skins he lost his only son,
since which time he has taken to the water for safety. No one can attack
him here, without coming in a boat, and the plunder and scalps would
scarce be worth the trouble of digging out canoes. Then it's by no
means sartain which would whip in such a scrimmage, for old Tom is well
supplied with arms and ammunition, and the castle, as you may see, is a
tight breastwork ag'in light shot."

Deerslayer had some theoretical knowledge of frontier warfare, though
he had never yet been called on to raise his hand in anger against a
fellow-creature. He saw that Hurry did not overrate the strength of
this position in a military point of view, since it would not be easy to
attack it without exposing the assailants to the fire of the besieged.
A good deal of art had also been manifested in the disposition of
the timber of which the building was constructed and which afforded a
protection much greater than was usual to the ordinary log-cabins of the
frontier. The sides and ends were composed of the trunks of large pines,
cut about nine feet long, and placed upright, instead of being laid
horizontally, as was the practice of the country. These logs were
squared on three sides, and had large tenons on each end. Massive sills
were secured on the heads of the piles, with suitable grooves dug out
of their upper surfaces, which had been squared for the purpose, and the
lower tenons of the upright pieces were placed in these grooves, giving
them secure fastening below. Plates had been laid on the upper ends
of the upright logs, and were kept in their places by a similar
contrivance; the several corners of the structure being well fastened
by scarfing and pinning the sills and plates. The doors were made of
smaller logs, similarly squared, and the roof was composed of light
poles, firmly united, and well covered with bark.

The effect of this ingenious arrangement was to give its owner a house
that could be approached only by water, the sides of which were composed
of logs closely wedged together, which were two feet thick in their
thinnest parts, and which could be separated only by a deliberate and
laborious use of human hands, or by the slow operation of time. The
outer surface of the building was rude and uneven, the logs being of
unequal sizes; but the squared surfaces within gave both the sides and
door as uniform an appearance as was desired, either for use or show.
The chimney was not the least singular portion of the castle, as Hurry
made his companion observe, while he explained the process by which it
had been made. The material was a stiff clay, properly worked, which had
been put together in a mould of sticks, and suffered to harden, a foot
or two at a time, commencing at the bottom. When the entire chimney had
thus been raised, and had been properly bound in with outward props, a
brisk fire was kindled, and kept going until it was burned to something
like a brick-red. This had not been an easy operation, nor had it
succeeded entirely; but by dint of filling the cracks with fresh clay,
a safe fireplace and chimney had been obtained in the end. This part of
the work stood on the log-door, secured beneath by an extra pile. There
were a few other peculiarities about this dwelling, which will better
appear in the course of the narrative.

"Old Tom is full of contrivances," added Hurry, "and he set his heart on
the success of his chimney, which threatened more than once to give out
altogether; but perseverance will even overcome smoke; and now he has
a comfortable cabin of it, though it did promise, at one time, to be a
chinky sort of a flue to carry flames and fire."

"You seem to know the whole history of the castle, Hurry, chimney and
sides," said Deerslayer, smiling; "is love so overcoming that it causes
a man to study the story of his sweetheart's habitation?"

"Partly that, lad, and partly eyesight," returned the good-natured
giant, laughing; "there was a large gang of us in the lake, the summer
the old fellow built, and we helped him along with the job. I raised no
small part of the weight of them uprights with my own shoulders, and
the axes flew, I can inform you, Master Natty, while we were bee-ing it
among the trees ashore. The old devil is no way stingy about food, and
as we had often eat at his hearth, we thought we would just house him
comfortably, afore we went to Albany with our skins. Yes, many is the
meal I've swallowed in Tom Hutter's cabins; and Hetty, though so weak in
the way of wits, has a wonderful particular way about a frying-pan or a
gridiron!

"While the parties were thus discoursing, the canoe had been gradually
drawing nearer to the "castle," and was now so close as to require but
a single stroke of a paddle to reach the landing. This was at a floored
platform in front of the entrance, that might have been some twenty feet
square.

"Old Tom calls this sort of a wharf his door-yard," observed Hurry, as
he fastened the canoe, after he and his Companion had left it: "and the
gallants from the forts have named it the castle court though what a
'court' can have to do here is more than I can tell you, seeing that
there is no law. 'Tis as I supposed; not a soul within, but the whole
family is off on a v'y'ge of discovery!"

While Hurry was bustling about the "door-yard," examining the
fishing-spears, rods, nets, and other similar appliances of a frontier
cabin, Deerslayer, whose manner was altogether more rebuked and quiet,
entered the building with a curiosity that was not usually exhibited by
one so long trained in Indian habits. The interior of the "castle" was
as faultlessly neat as its exterior was novel. The entire space, some
twenty feet by forty, was subdivided into several small sleeping-rooms;
the apartment into which he first entered, serving equally for the
ordinary uses of its inmates, and for a kitchen. The furniture was of
the strange mixture that it is not uncommon to find in the remotely
situated log-tenements of the interior. Most of it was rude, and to the
last degree rustic; but there was a clock, with a handsome case of dark
wood, in a corner, and two or three chairs, with a table and bureau,
that had evidently come from some dwelling of more than usual
pretension. The clock was industriously ticking, but its leaden-looking
hands did no discredit to their dull aspect, for they pointed to the
hour of eleven, though the sun plainly showed it was some time past
the turn of the day. There was also a dark, massive chest. The kitchen
utensils were of the simplest kind, and far from numerous, but every
article was in its place, and showed the nicest care in its condition.

After Deerslayer had cast a look about him in the outer room, he raised
a wooden latch, and entered a narrow passage that divided the inner
end of the house into two equal parts. Frontier usages being no way
scrupulous, and his curiosity being strongly excited, the young man now
opened a door, and found himself in a bedroom. A single glance sufficed
to show that the apartment belonged to females. The bed was of the
feathers of wild geese, and filled nearly to overflowing; but it lay in
a rude bunk, raised only a foot from the door. On one side of it were
arranged, on pegs, various dresses, of a quality much superior to what
one would expect to meet in such a place, with ribbons and other similar
articles to correspond. Pretty shoes, with handsome silver buckles, such
as were then worn by females in easy circumstances, were not wanting;
and no less than six fans, of gay colors, were placed half open, in a
way to catch the eye by their conceits and hues. Even the pillow, on
this side of the bed, was covered with finer linen than its companion,
and it was ornamented with a small ruffle. A cap, coquettishly decorated
with ribbons, hung above it, and a pair of long gloves, such as were
rarely used in those days by persons of the laboring classes, were
pinned ostentatiously to it, as if with an intention to exhibit them
there, if they could not be shown on the owner's arms.

All this Deerslayer saw, and noted with a degree of minuteness that
would have done credit to the habitual observation of his friends, the
Delawares. Nor did he fail to perceive the distinction that existed
between the appearances on the different sides of the bed, the head
of which stood against the wall. On that opposite to the one just
described, everything was homely and uninviting, except through its
perfect neatness. The few garments that were hanging from the pegs were
of the coarsest materials and of the commonest forms, while nothing
seemed made for show. Of ribbons there was not one; nor was there either
cap or kerchief beyond those which Hutter's daughters might be fairly
entitled to wear.

It was now several years since Deerslayer had been in a spot especially
devoted to the uses of females of his own color and race. The sight
brought back to his mind a rush of childish recollections; and he
lingered in the room with a tenderness of feeling to which he had long
been a stranger. He bethought him of his mother, whose homely vestments
he remembered to have seen hanging on pegs like those which he felt
must belong to Hetty Hutter; and he bethought himself of a sister, whose
incipient and native taste for finery had exhibited itself somewhat in
the manner of that of Judith, though necessarily in a less degree. These
little resemblances opened a long hidden vein of sensations; and as he
quitted the room, it was with a saddened mien. He looked no further, but
returned slowly and thoughtfully towards the "door-yard."

"If Old Tom has taken to a new calling, and has been trying his hand at
the traps," cried Hurry, who had been coolly examining the borderer's
implements; "if that is his humor, and you're disposed to remain in
these parts, we can make an oncommon comfortable season of it; for,
while the old man and I out-knowledge the beaver, you can fish, and
knock down the deer, to keep body and soul together. I've always give
the poorest hunters half a share, but one as actyve and sartain as
yourself might expect a full one."

"Thank'ee, Hurry; thank'ee, with all my heart--but I do a little
beavering for myself as occasions offer. 'Tis true, the Delawares call
me Deerslayer, but it's not so much because I'm pretty fatal with the
venison as because that while I kill so many bucks and does, I've never
yet taken the life of a fellow-creatur'. They say their traditions do
not tell of another who had shed so much blood of animals that had not
shed the blood of man."

"I hope they don't account you chicken-hearted, lad! A faint-hearted man
is like a no-tailed beaver."

"I don't believe, Hurry, that they account me as out-of-the-way
timorsome, even though they may not account me as out-of-the-way brave.
But I'm not quarrelsome; and that goes a great way towards keeping blood
off the hands, among the hunters and red-skins; and then, Harry March,
it keeps blood off the conscience, too."

"Well, for my part I account game, a red-skin, and a Frenchman as pretty
much the same thing; though I'm as onquarrelsome a man, too, as there is
in all the colonies. I despise a quarreller as I do a cur-dog; but one
has no need to be over-scrupulsome when it's the right time to show the
flint."

"I look upon him as the most of a man who acts nearest the right, Hurry.
But this is a glorious spot, and my eyes never a-weary looking at it!"

"'Tis your first acquaintance with a lake; and these ideas come over us
all at such times. Lakes have a gentle character, as I say, being pretty
much water and land, and points and bays."

As this definition by no means met the feelings that were uppermost in
the mind of the young hunter, he made no immediate answer, but stood
gazing at the dark hills and the glassy water in silent enjoyment.

"Have the Governor's or the King's people given this lake a name?" he
suddenly asked, as if struck with a new idea. "If they've not begun to
blaze their trees, and set up their compasses, and line off their maps,
it's likely they've not bethought them to disturb natur' with a name."

"They've not got to that, yet; and the last time I went in with skins,
one of the King's surveyors was questioning me consarning all the region
hereabouts. He had heard that there was a lake in this quarter, and
had got some general notions about it, such as that there was water and
hills; but how much of either, he know'd no more than you know of the
Mohawk tongue. I didn't open the trap any wider than was necessary,
giving him but poor encouragement in the way of farms and clearings. In
short, I left on his mind some such opinion of this country, as a man
gets of a spring of dirty water, with a path to it that is so muddy that
one mires afore he sets out. He told me they hadn't got the spot down
yet on their maps, though I conclude that is a mistake, for he showed me
his parchment, and there is a lake down on it, where there is no lake
in fact, and which is about fifty miles from the place where it ought to
be, if they meant it for this. I don't think my account will encourage
him to mark down another, by way of improvement."

Here Hurry laughed heartily, such tricks being particularly grateful to
a set of men who dreaded the approaches of civilization as a curtailment
of their own lawless empire. The egregious errors that existed in the
maps of the day, all of which were made in Europe, were, moreover, a
standing topic of ridicule among them; for, if they had not science
enough to make any better themselves, they had sufficient local
information to detect the gross blunders contained in those that
existed. Any one who will take the trouble to compare these unanswerable
evidences of the topographical skill of our fathers a century since,
with the more accurate sketches of our own time, will at once perceive
that the men of the woods had a sufficient justification for all their
criticism on this branch of the skill of the colonial governments, which
did not at all hesitate to place a river or a lake a degree or two out
of the way, even though they lay within a day's march of the inhabited
parts of the country.

"I'm glad it has no name," resumed Deerslayer, "or at least, no
pale-face name; for their christenings always foretell waste and
destruction. No doubt, howsoever, the red-skins have their modes of
knowing it, and the hunters and trappers, too; they are likely to call
the place by something reasonable and resembling."

"As for the tribes, each has its tongue, and its own way of calling
things; and they treat this part of the world just as they treat
all others. Among ourselves, we've got to calling the place the
'Glimmerglass,' seeing that its whole basin is so often hinged with
pines, cast upward to its face as if it would throw back the hills that
hang over it."

"There is an outlet, I know, for all lakes have outlets, and the rock
at which I am to meet Chingachgook stands near an outlet. Has that no
colony-name yet?"

"In that particular they've got the advantage of us, having one end, and
that the biggest, in their own keeping: they've given it a name which
has found its way up to its source; names nat'rally working up stream.
No doubt, Deerslayer, you've seen the Susquehannah, down in the Delaware
country?"

"That have I, and hunted along its banks a hundred times."

"That and this are the same in fact, and, I suppose, the same in sound.
I am glad they've been compelled to keep the redmen's name, for it would
be too hard to rob them of both land and name!"

Deerslayer made no answer; but he stood leaning on his rifle, gazing
at the view which so much delighted him. The reader is not to suppose,
however, that it was the picturesque alone which so strongly attracted
his attention. The spot was very lovely, of a truth, and it was then
seen in one of its most favorable moments, the surface of the lake
being as smooth as glass and as limpid as pure air, throwing back
the mountains, clothed in dark pines, along the whole of its eastern
boundary, the points thrusting forward their trees even to nearly
horizontal lines, while the bays were seen glittering through an
occasional arch beneath, left by a vault fretted with branches and
leaves. It was the air of deep repose--the solitudes, that spoke of
scenes and forests untouched by the hands of man--the reign of nature,
in a word, that gave so much pure delight to one of his habits and turn
of mind. Still, he felt, though it was unconsciously, like a poet
also. If he found a pleasure in studying this large, and to him unusual
opening into the mysteries and forms of the woods, as one is gratified
in getting broader views of any subject that has long occupied his
thoughts, he was not insensible to the innate loveliness of such a
landscape neither, but felt a portion of that soothing of the spirit
which is a common attendant of a scene so thoroughly pervaded by the
holy cairn of nature.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: On a beautiful June day in the early 1740s, two travelers arrive at Otsego Lake in upstate New York. One is Henry March, or Hurry Harry, about 28 years old; and the other is Nathaniel, or Natty, Bumppo -- Deerslayer -- who is several years younger than his companion. Both men proceed very cautiously because the Iroquois, or Mingos, are on the warpath. Deerslayer, raised by the Delaware nation, has more respect for the qualities of the Indians than his reckless comrade, who despises the natives. Hurry Harry taunts Deerslayer about the latter's reluctance to take any life, animal or human, without good cause; and he finally obtains from Natty the admission that the young man has never killed another person. Hurry Harry relates some of the background and gossip about Tom Hutter who claims the lake as his property toward which they are now approaching. Floating Tom Hutter has lived on this lake for 15 years and has buried his wife there. He has two daughters, Judith and Hetty, who are discussed in some detail by Hurry Harry. Judith is attractive and vivacious; Hurry characterizes her as a "light-minded jilting jade"; Hetty is plain and somewhat mentally retarded. Hurry Harry wants to marry Judith, although she has already rejected his offer of marriage. Angry at the memory of this rejection, Harry threatens to kill any man Judith may have married during his absence. Deerslayer calmly replies that he would be morally obligated to inform the authorities about such a crime. Seizing Deerslayer by the throat, Harry is on the verge of injuring his companion until he realizes that Deerslayer is not to be bullied. Hurry then releases his grip, saying that he will tell no more secrets to his young companion. After they have eaten, the two men continue their trek to Otsego Lake. Deerslayer proves that he has keen eyesight by spotting a certain tree that Harry has described. Inside the fallen, rotting tree is a hidden canoe. As the travelers start to paddle the canoe on the lake, Deerslayer is visibly moved and impressed by the lake, commonly called Glimmerglass. They reach Muskrat Castle, the permanent home and fortification of Tom Hutter on the lake, but the castle is deserted. Hurry Harry explains that the ark, the second lodging of Floating Tom, is probably at the other end of Glimmerglass. Deerslayer mentions that he is to meet Chingachgook, his friend and the son of the chief of the fallen nation of the Mohicans, at a rock near the lake outlet, where Floating Tom's ark is located.