Chapter: "But, mother, now a shade has past,
    Athwart my brightest visions here,
    A cloud of darkest gloom has wrapt,
    The remnant of my brief career!
    No song, no echo can I win,
    The sparkling fount has died within."

    Margaret Davidson, "To my Mother," 11.  7-12.

Hist and Hetty arose with the return of light, leaving Judith still
buried in sleep. It took but a minute for the first to complete her
toilet. Her long coal-black hair was soon adjusted in a simple knot,
the calico dress belted tight to her slender waist, and her little feet
concealed in their gaudily ornamented moccasins. When attired, she left
her companion employed in household affairs, and went herself on
the platform to breathe the pure air of the morning. Here she found
Chingachgook studying the shores of the lake, the mountains and the
heavens, with the sagacity of a man of the woods, and the gravity of an
Indian.

The meeting between the two lovers was simple, but affectionate. The
chief showed a manly kindness, equally removed from boyish weakness and
haste, while the girl betrayed, in her smile and half averted looks, the
bashful tenderness of her sex. Neither spoke, unless it were with the
eyes, though each understood the other as fully as if a vocabulary of
words and protestations had been poured out. Hist seldom appeared
to more advantage than at that moment, for just from her rest and
ablutions, there was a freshness about her youthful form and face that
the toils of the wood do not always permit to be exhibited, by even the
juvenile and pretty. Then Judith had not only imparted some of her
own skill in the toilet, during their short intercourse, but she had
actually bestowed a few well selected ornaments from her own stores,
that contributed not a little to set off the natural graces of the
Indian maid. All this the lover saw and felt, and for a moment his
countenance was illuminated with a look of pleasure, but it soon grew
grave again, and became saddened and anxious. The stools used the
previous night were still standing on the platform; placing two against
the walls of the hut, he seated himself on one, making a gesture to
his companion to take the other. This done, he continued thoughtful and
silent for quite a minute, maintaining the reflecting dignity of one
born to take his seat at the council-fire, while Hist was furtively
watching the expression of his face, patient and submissive, as became
a woman of her people. Then the young warrior stretched his arm before
him, as if to point out the glories of the scene at that witching
hour, when the whole panorama, as usual, was adorned by the mellow
distinctness of early morning, sweeping with his hand slowly over lake,
hills and heavens. The girl followed the movement with pleased wonder,
smiling as each new beauty met her gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The pale-faces know everything," he said; "can they tell us why the sun
hides his face, when he goes back, at night."

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

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

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

"Good. This is true; no red man will deny it. When a wheel turns, my
eyes can see it--they do not see the earth turn."

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

"Chingachgook can see Him everywhere--everywhere in good things--the Evil
Spirit in bad. Here, in the lake; there, in the forest; yonder, in the
clouds; in Hist, in the Son of Uncas, in Tannemund, in Deerslayer. The
Evil Spirit is in the Mingos. That I see; I do not see the earth turn
round."

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

"When the sun is in the top of that pine to-morrow, where will my
brother Deerslayer be?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Listen, Deerslayer," returned the Indian with an emphasis so decided as
to show how much he was in earnest. "If Chingachgook was in the hands
of the Hurons, what would my pale-face brother do? Sneak off to the
Delaware villages, and say to the chiefs, and old men, and young
warriors--'see, here is Wah-ta-Wah; she is safe, but a little tired;
and here is the Son of Uncas, not as tired as the Honeysuckle, being
stronger, but just as safe.' Would he do this?"

"Well, that's oncommon ingen'ous; it's cunning enough for a Mingo,
himself! The Lord only knows what put it into your head to ask such a
question. What would I do? Why, in the first place, Hist wouldn't be
likely to be in my company at all, for she would stay as near you as
possible, and therefore all that part about her couldn't be said without
talking nonsense. As for her being tired, that would fall through too,
if she didn't go, and no part of your speech would be likely to come
from me; so, you see, Sarpent, reason is ag'in you, and you may as well
give it up, since to hold out ag'in reason, is no way becoming a chief
of your character and repitation."

"My brother is not himself; he forgets that he is talking to one who has
sat at the Council Fire of his nation," returned the other kindly. "When
men speak, they should say that which does not go in at one side of the
head and out at the other. Their words shouldn't be feathers, so light
that a wind which does not ruffle the water can blow them away. He
has not answered my question; when a chief puts a question, his friend
should not talk of other things."

"I understand you, Delaware; I understand well enough what you mean, and
truth won't allow me to say otherwise. Still it's not as easy to answer
as you seem to think, for this plain reason. You wish me to say what
I would do if I had a betrothed as you have, here, on the lake, and a
fri'nd yonder in the Huron camp, in danger of the torments. That's it,
isn't it?"

The Indian bowed his head silently, and always with unmoved gravity,
though his eye twinkled at the sight of the other's embarrassment.

"Well, I never had a betrothed--never had the kind of feelin's toward
any young woman that you have towards Hist, though the Lord knows my
feelin's are kind enough towards 'em all! Still my heart, as they call
it in such matters, isn't touched, and therefore I can't say what I
would do. A fri'nd pulls strong, that I know by exper'ence, Sarpent,
but, by all that I've seen and heard consarning love, I'm led to think
that a betrothed pulls stronger."

"True; but the betrothed of Chingachgook does not pull towards the
lodges of the Delawares; she pulls towards the camp of the Hurons."

"She's a noble gal, for all her little feet, and hands that an't bigger
than a child's, and a voice that is as pleasant as a mocker's; she's a
noble gal, and like the stock of her sires! Well, what is it, Sarpent;
for I conclude she hasn't changed her mind, and means to give herself
up, and turn Huron wife. What is it you want?"

"Wah-ta-Wah will never live in the wigwam of an Iroquois," answered
the Delaware drily. "She has little feet, but they can carry her to the
villages of her people; she has small hands, too, but her mind is large.
My brother will see what we can do, when the time shall come, rather
than let him die under Mingo torments."

"Attempt nothing heedlessly, Delaware," said the other earnestly; "I
suppose you must and will have your way; and, on the whole it's right
you should, for you'd neither be happy, unless something was undertaken.
But attempt nothing heedlessly--I didn't expect you'd quit the lake,
while my matter remained in unsartainty, but remember, Sarpent, that no
torments that Mingo ingenuity can invent, no ta'ntings and revilings;
no burnings and roastings and nail-tearings, nor any other onhuman
contrivances can so soon break down my spirit, as to find that you and
Hist have fallen into the power of the inimy in striving to do something
for my good."

"The Delawares are prudent. The Deerslayer will not find them running
into a strange camp with their eyes shut."

Here the dialogue terminated. Hetty announced that the breakfast was
ready, and the whole party was soon seated around the simple board, in
the usual primitive manner of borderers. Judith was the last to take her
seat, pale, silent, and betraying in her countenance that she had passed
a painful, if not a sleepless, night. At this meal scarce a syllable was
exchanged, all the females manifesting want of appetites, though the
two men were unchanged in this particular. It was early when the
party arose, and there still remained several hours before it would be
necessary for the prisoner to leave his friends. The knowledge of this
circumstance, and the interest all felt in his welfare, induced the
whole to assemble on the platform again, in the desire to be near the
expected victim, to listen to his discourse, and if possible to show
their interest in him by anticipating his wishes. Deerslayer, himself,
so far as human eyes could penetrate, was wholly unmoved, conversing
cheerfully and naturally, though he avoided any direct allusions to the
expected and great event of the day. If any evidence could be discovered
of his thought's reverting to that painful subject at all, it was in the
manner in which he spoke of death and the last great change.

"Grieve not, Hetty," he said, for it was while consoling this
simple-minded girl for the loss of her parents that he thus betrayed his
feelings, "since God has app'inted that all must die. Your parents, or
them you fancied your parents, which is the same thing, have gone afore
you; this is only in the order of natur', my good gal, for the aged
go first, and the young follow. But one that had a mother like your'n,
Hetty, can be at no loss to hope the best, as to how matters will turn
out in another world. The Delaware, here, and Hist, believe in happy
hunting grounds, and have idees befitting their notions and gifts as
red-skins, but we who are of white blood hold altogether to a different
doctrine. Still, I rather conclude our heaven is their land of spirits,
and that the path which leads to it will be travelled by all colours
alike. 'Tis onpossible for the wicked to enter on it, I will allow, but
fri'nds can scarce be separated, though they are not of the same race
on 'arth. Keep up your spirits, poor Hetty, and look forward to the
day when you will meet your mother ag'in, and that without pain, or
sorrowing."

"I do expect to see mother," returned the truth-telling and simple girl,
"but what will become of father?"

"That's a non-plusser, Delaware," said the hunter, in the Indian
dialect--"yes, that is a downright non-plusser! The Muskrat was not
a saint on 'arth, and it's fair to guess he'll not be much of one,
hereafter! Howsever, Hetty," dropping into the English by an easy
transition, "howsever, Hetty, we must all hope for the best. That is
wisest, and it is much the easiest to the mind, if one can only do it.
I ricommend to you, trusting to God, and putting down all misgivings and
fainthearted feelin's. It's wonderful, Judith, how different people have
different notions about the futur', some fancying one change, and some
fancying another. I've known white teachers that have thought all was
spirit, hereafter, and them, ag'in, that believed the body will be
transported to another world, much as the red-skins themselves imagine,
and that we shall walk about in the flesh, and know each other, and talk
together, and be fri'nds there as we've been fri'nds here."

"Which of these opinions is most pleasing to you, Deerslayer?" asked the
girl, willing to indulge his melancholy mood, and far from being free
from its influence herself. "Would it be disagreeable to think that you
should meet all who are now on this platform in another world? Or have
you known enough of us here, to be glad to see us no more.

"The last would make death a bitter portion; yes it would. It's eight
good years since the Sarpent and I began to hunt together, and the
thought that we were never to meet ag'in would be a hard thought to me.
He looks forward to the time when he shall chase a sort of spirit-deer,
in company, on plains where there's no thorns, or brambles, or marshes,
or other hardships to overcome, whereas I can't fall into all these
notions, seeing that they appear to be ag'in reason. Spirits can't
eat, nor have they any use for clothes, and deer can only rightfully be
chased to be slain, or slain, unless it be for the venison or the
hides. Now, I find it hard to suppose that blessed spirits can be put to
chasing game without an object, tormenting the dumb animals just for the
pleasure and agreeableness of their own amusements. I never yet pulled
a trigger on buck or doe, Judith, unless when food or clothes was
wanting."

"The recollection of which, Deerslayer, must now be a great consolation
to you."

"It is the thought of such things, my fri'nds, that enables a man to
keep his furlough. It might be done without it, I own; for the worst
red-skins sometimes do their duty in this matter; but it makes that
which might otherwise be hard, easy, if not altogether to our liking.
Nothing truly makes a bolder heart than a light conscience."

Judith turned paler than ever, but she struggled for self-command, and
succeeded in obtaining it. The conflict had been severe, however, and
it left her so little disposed to speak that Hetty pursued the subject.
This was done in the simple manner natural to the girl.

"It would be cruel to kill the poor deer," she said, "in this world, or
any other, when you don't want their venison, or their skins. No good
white man, and no good red man would do it. But it's wicked for a
Christian to talk about chasing anything in heaven. Such things are
not done before the face of God, and the missionary that teaches these
doctrines can't be a true missionary. He must be a wolf in sheep's
clothing. I suppose you know what a sheep is, Deerslayer."

"That I do, gal, and a useful creatur' it is, to such as like cloths
better than skins for winter garments. I understand the natur' of sheep,
though I've had but little to do with 'em, and the natur' of wolves too,
and can take the idee of a wolf in the fleece of a sheep, though I think
it would be like to prove a hot jacket for such a beast, in the warm
months!"

"And sin and hypocrisy are hot jackets, as they will find who put them
on," returned Hetty, positively, "so the wolf would be no worse off than
the sinner. Spirits don't hunt, nor trap, nor fish, nor do anything that
vain men undertake, since they've none of the longings of this world to
feed. Oh! Mother told me all that, years ago, and I don't wish to hear
it denied."

"Well, my good Hetty, in that case you'd better not broach your doctrine
to Hist, when she and you are alone, and the young Delaware maiden is
inclined to talk religion. It's her fixed idee, I know, that the good
warriors do nothing but hunt and fish in the other world, though I don't
believe that she fancies any of them are brought down to trapping, which
is no empl'yment for a brave. But of hunting and fishing, accordin' to
her notion, they've their fill, and that, too, over the most agreeablest
hunting grounds, and among game that is never out of season, and which
is just actyve and instinctyve enough to give a pleasure to death. So I
wouldn't ricommend it to you to start Hist on that idee."

"Hist can't be so wicked as to believe any such thing," returned the
other, earnestly. "No Indian hunts after he is dead."

"No wicked Indian, I grant you; no wicked Indian, sartainly. He is
obliged to carry the ammunition, and to look on without sharing in the
sport, and to cook, and to light the fires, and to do every thing that
isn't manful. Now, mind; I don't tell you these are my idees, but they
are Hist's idees, and, therefore, for the sake of peace the less you say
to her ag'in 'em, the better."

"And what are your ideas of the fate of an Indian, in the other world?"
demanded Judith, who had just found her voice.

"Ah! gal, any thing but that! I am too Christianized to expect any thing
so fanciful as hunting and fishing after death, nor do I believe there
is one Manitou for the red-skin and another for a pale-face. You find
different colours on 'arth, as any one may see, but you don't find
different natur's. Different gifts, but only one natur'."

"In what is a gift different from a nature? Is not nature itself a gift
from God?"

"Sartain; that's quick-thoughted, and creditable, Judith, though the
main idee is wrong. A natur' is the creatur' itself; its wishes, wants,
idees and feelin's, as all are born in him. This natur' never can be
changed, in the main, though it may undergo some increase, or lessening.
Now, gifts come of sarcumstances. Thus, if you put a man in a town, he
gets town gifts; in a settlement, settlement gifts; in a forest, gifts
of the woods. A soldier has soldierly gifts, and a missionary preaching
gifts. All these increase and strengthen, until they get to fortify
natur', as it might be, and excuse a thousand acts and idees. Still
the creatur' is the same at the bottom; just as a man who is clad in
regimentals is the same as the man that is clad in skins. The garments
make a change to the eye, and some change in the conduct, perhaps; but
none in the man. Herein lies the apology for gifts; seein' that you
expect different conduct from one in silks and satins, from one in
homespun; though the Lord, who didn't make the dresses, but who made
the creatur's themselves, looks only at his own work. This isn't ra'al
missionary doctrine, but it's as near it as a man of white colour need
be. Ah's! me; little did I think to be talking of such matters, to-day,
but it's one of our weaknesses never to know what will come to pass.
Step into the Ark with me, Judith, for a minute; I wish to convarse with
you."

Judith complied with a willingness she could scarce conceal. Following
the hunter into the cabin, she took a seat on a stool, while the young
man brought Killdeer, the rifle she had given him, out of a corner, and
placed himself on another, with the weapon laid upon his knees. After
turning the piece round and round, and examining its lock and its breech
with a sort of affectionate assiduity, he laid it down and proceeded to
the subject which had induced him to desire the interview.

"I understand you, Judith, to say that you gave me this rifle," he said.
"I agreed to take it, because a young woman can have no particular use
for firearms. The we'pon has a great name, and it desarves it, and
ought of right to be carried by some known and sure hand, for the best
repitation may be lost by careless and thoughtless handling."

"Can it be in better hands than those in which it is now, Deerslayer?
Thomas Hutter seldom missed with it; with you it must turn out to be--"

"Sartain death!" interrupted the hunter, laughing. "I once know'd a
beaver-man that had a piece he called by that very name, but 'twas all
boastfulness, for I've seen Delawares that were as true with arrows,
at a short range. Howsever, I'll not deny my gifts--for this is a gift,
Judith, and not natur'--but, I'll not deny my gifts, and therefore allow
that the rifle couldn't well be in better hands than it is at present.
But, how long will it be likely to remain there? Atween us, the truth
may be said, though I shouldn't like to have it known to the Sarpent and
Hist; but, to you the truth may be spoken, since your feelin's will not
be as likely to be tormented by it, as those of them that have known me
longer and better. How long am I like to own this rifle or any other?
That is a serious question for our thoughts to rest on, and should
that happen which is so likely to happen, Killdeer would be without an
owner."

Judith listened with apparent composure, though the conflict within
came near overpowering her. Appreciating the singular character of her
companion, however, she succeeded in appearing calm, though, had not his
attention been drawn exclusively to the rifle, a man of his keenness of
observation could scarce have failed to detect the agony of mind with
which the girl had hearkened to his words. Her great self-command,
notwithstanding, enabled her to pursue the subject in a way still to
deceive him.

"What would you have me do with the weapon," she asked, "should that
which you seem to expect take place?"

"That's just what I wanted to speak to you about, Judith; that's just
it. There's Chingachgook, now, though far from being parfect sartainty,
with a rifle--for few red-skins ever get to be that--though far
from being parfect sartainty, he is respectable, and is coming on.
Nevertheless, he is my fri'nd, and all the better fri'nd, perhaps,
because there never can be any hard feelin's atween us, touchin' our
gifts, his'n bein' red, and mine bein' altogether white. Now, I should
like to leave Killdeer to the Sarpent, should any thing happen to keep
me from doing credit and honor to your precious gift, Judith."

"Leave it to whom you please, Deerslayer. The rifle is your own, to do
with as you please. Chingachgook shall have it, should you never return
to claim it, if that be your wish."

"Has Hetty been consulted in this matter? Property goes from the parent
to the children, and not to one child, in partic'lar!"

"If you place your right on that of the law, Deerslayer, I fear none of
us can claim to be the owner. Thomas Hutter was no more the father
of Esther, than he was the father of Judith. Judith and Esther we are
truly, having no other name!"

"There may be law in that, but there's no great reason, gal. Accordin'
to the custom of families, the goods are your'n, and there's no one
here to gainsay it. If Hetty would only say that she is willing, my
mind would be quite at ease in the matter. It's true, Judith, that
your sister has neither your beauty, nor your wit; but we should be the
tenderest of the rights and welfare of the most weak-minded."

The girl made no answer but placing herself at a window, she summoned
her sister to her side. When the question was put to Hetty, that
simple-minded and affectionate creature cheerfully assented to the
proposal to confer on Deerslayer a full right of ownership to the
much-coveted rifle. The latter now seemed perfectly happy, for the time
being at least, and after again examining and re-examining his prize, he
expressed a determination to put its merits to a practical test, before
he left the spot. No boy could have been more eager to exhibit the
qualities of his trumpet, or his crossbow, than this simple forester was
to prove those of his rifle. Returning to the platform, he first took
the Delaware aside, and informed him that this celebrated piece was
to become his property, in the event of any thing serious befalling
himself.

"This is a new reason why you should be wary, Sarpent, and not run into
any oncalculated danger," the hunter added, "for, it will be a victory
of itself to a tribe to own such a piece as this! The Mingos will turn
green with envy, and, what is more, they will not ventur' heedlessly
near a village where it is known to be kept. So, look well to it,
Delaware, and remember that you've now to watch over a thing that has
all the valie of a creatur', without its failin's. Hist may be,
and should be precious to you, but Killdeer will have the love and
veneration of your whole people."

"One rifle like another, Deerslayer," returned the Indian, in English,
the language used by the other, a little hurt at his friend's lowering
his betrothed to the level of a gun. "All kill; all wood and iron. Wife
dear to heart; rifle good to shoot."

"And what is a man in the woods without something to shoot with?--a
miserable trapper, or a forlorn broom and basket maker, at the best.
Such a man may hoe corn, and keep soul and body together, but he can
never know the savory morsels of venison, or tell a bear's ham from a
hog's. Come, my fri'nd, such another occasion may never offer ag'in,
and I feel a strong craving for a trial with this celebrated piece.
You shall bring out your own rifle, and I will just sight Killdeer in a
careless way, in order that we may know a few of its secret vartues."

As this proposition served to relieve the thoughts of the whole party,
by giving them a new direction, while it was likely to produce no
unpleasant results, every one was willing to enter into it; the girls
bringing forth the firearms with an alacrity bordering on cheerfulness.
Hutter's armory was well supplied, possessing several rifles, all of
which were habitually kept loaded in readiness to meet any sudden demand
for their use. On the present occasion it only remained to freshen the
primings, and each piece was in a state for service. This was soon done,
as all assisted in it, the females being as expert in this part of the
system of defence as their male companions.

"Now, Sarpent, we'll begin in a humble way, using Old Tom's commoners
first, and coming to your we'pon and Killdeer as the winding up
observations," said Deerslayer, delighted to be again, weapon in hand,
ready to display his skill. "Here's birds in abundance, some in, and
some over the lake, and they keep at just a good range, hovering round
the hut. Speak your mind, Delaware, and p'int out the creatur' you wish
to alarm. Here's a diver nearest in, off to the eastward, and that's a
creatur' that buries itself at the flash, and will be like enough to try
both piece and powder."

Chingachgook was a man of few words. No sooner was the bird pointed out
to him than he took his aim and fired. The duck dove at the flash, as
had been expected, and the bullet skipped harmlessly along the surface
of the lake, first striking the water within a few inches of the spot
where the bird had so lately swam. Deerslayer laughed, cordially and
naturally, but at the same time he threw himself into an attitude
of preparation and stood keenly watching the sheet of placid water.
Presently a dark spot appeared, and then the duck arose to breathe, and
shook its wings. While in this act, a bullet passed directly through
its breast, actually turning it over lifeless on its back. At the next
moment, Deerslayer stood with the breech of his rifle on the platform,
as tranquil as if nothing had happened, though laughing in his own
peculiar manner.

"There's no great trial of the pieces in that!" he said, as if anxious
to prevent a false impression of his own merit. "No, that proof's
neither for nor ag'in the rifles, seeing it was all quickness of hand
and eye. I took the bird at a disadvantage, or he might have got under,
again, afore the bullet reached him. But the Sarpent is too wise to mind
such tricks, having long been used to them. Do you remember the time,
chief, when you thought yourself sartain of the wild-goose, and I took
him out of your very eyes, as it might be with a little smoke! Howsever,
such things pass for nothing atween fri'nds, and young folk will have
their fun, Judith. Ay; here's just the bird we want, for it's as good
for the fire, as it is for the aim, and nothing should be lost that can
be turned to just account. There, further north, Delaware."

The latter looked in the required direction, and he soon saw a large
black duck floating in stately repose on the water. At that distant day,
when so few men were present to derange the harmony of the wilderness,
all the smaller lakes with which the interior of New York so abounds
were places of resort for the migratory aquatic birds, and this sheet
like the others had once been much frequented by all the varieties of
the duck, by the goose, the gull, and the loon. On the appearance of
Hutter, the spot was comparatively deserted for other sheets, more
retired and remote, though some of each species continued to resort
thither, as indeed they do to the present hour. At that instant, a
hundred birds were visible from the castle, sleeping on the water or
laying their feathers in the limpid element, though no other offered so
favorable a mark as that Deerslayer had just pointed out to his friend.
Chingachgook, as usual, spared his words, and proceeded to execution.
This time his aim was more careful than before, and his success in
proportion. The bird had a wing crippled, and fluttered along the water
screaming, materially increasing its distance from its enemies.

"That bird must be put out of pain," exclaimed Deerslayer, the moment
the animal endeavored to rise on the wing, "and this is the rifle and
the eye to do it."

The duck was still floundering along, when the fatal bullet overtook it,
severing the head from the neck as neatly as if it had been done with
an axe. Hist had indulged in a low cry of delight at the success of the
young Indian, but now she affected to frown and resent the greater skill
of his friend. The chief, on the contrary, uttered the usual exclamation
of pleasure, and his smile proved how much he admired, and how little he
envied.

"Never mind the gal, Sarpent, never mind Hist's feelin's, which will
neither choke, nor drown, slay nor beautify," said Deerslayer, laughing.
"'Tis nat'ral for women to enter into their husband's victories and
defeats, and you are as good as man and wife, so far as prejudyce and
fri'ndship go. Here is a bird over head that will put the pieces to the
proof. I challenge you to an upward aim, with a flying target. That's
a ra'al proof, and one that needs sartain rifles, as well as sartain
eyes."

The species of eagle that frequents the water, and lives on fish, was
also present, and one was hovering at a considerable height above the
hut, greedily watching for an opportunity to make a swoop; its hungry
young elevating their heads from a nest that was in sight, in the naked
summit of a dead pine. Chingachgook silently turned a new piece against
this bird, and after carefully watching his time, fired. A wider circuit
than common denoted that the messenger had passed through the air at no
great distance from the bird, though it missed its object. Deerslayer,
whose aim was not more true than it was quick, fired as soon as it was
certain his friend had missed, and the deep swoop that followed left
it momentarily doubtful whether the eagle was hit or not. The marksman
himself, however, proclaimed his own want of success, calling on his
friend to seize another rifle, for he saw signs on the part of the bird
of an intention to quit the spot.

"I made him wink, Sarpent, I do think his feathers were ruffled, but
no blood has yet been drawn, nor is that old piece fit for so nice and
quick a sight. Quick, Delaware, you've now a better rifle, and, Judith,
bring out Killdeer, for this is the occasion to try his merits, if he
has 'em."

A general movement followed, each of the competitors got ready, and the
girls stood in eager expectation of the result. The eagle had made a
wide circuit after his low swoop, and fanning his way upward, once more
hovered nearly over the hut, at a distance even greater than before.
Chingachgook gazed at him, and then expressed his opinion of the
impossibility of striking a bird at that great height, and while he was
so nearly perpendicular, as to the range. But a low murmur from Hist
produced a sudden impulse and he fired. The result showed how well he
had calculated, the eagle not even varying his flight, sailing round and
round in his airy circle, and looking down, as if in contempt, at his
foes.

"Now, Judith," cried Deerslayer, laughing, with glistening and delighted
eyes, "we'll see if Killdeer isn't Killeagle, too! Give me room
Sarpent, and watch the reason of the aim, for by reason any thing may be
l'arned."

A careful sight followed, and was repeated again and again, the bird
continuing to rise higher and higher. Then followed the flash and the
report. The swift messenger sped upward, and, at the next instant, the
bird turned on its side, and came swooping down, now struggling with
one wing and then with the other, sometimes whirling in a circuit,
next fanning desperately as if conscious of its injury, until, having
described several complete circles around the spot, it fell heavily into
the end of the Ark. On examining the body, it was found that the
bullet had pierced it about half way between one of its wings and the
breast-bone.




    "Upon two stony tables, spread before her,
    She lean'd her bosom, more than stony hard,
    There slept th' impartial judge, and strict restorer
    Of wrong, or right, with pain or with reward;
    There hung the score of all our debts, the card
    Where good, and bad, and life, and death, were painted;
    Was never heart of mortal so untainted,
    But when the roll was read, with thousand terrors fainted."

    Giles Fletcher, Christ's Victory in Heaven, lxv.

"We've done an unthoughtful thing, Sarpent--yes, Judith, we've done an
unthoughtful thing in taking life with an object no better than vanity!"
exclaimed Deerslayer, when the Delaware held up the enormous bird, by
its wings, and exhibited the dying eyes riveted on its enemies with
the gaze that the helpless ever fasten on their destroyers. "'Twas more
becomin' two boys to gratify their feelin's in this onthoughtful manner,
than two warriors on a warpath, even though it be their first. Ah's!
me; well, as a punishment I'll quit you at once, and when I find myself
alone with them bloody-minded Mingos, it's more than like I'll have
occasion to remember that life is sweet, even to the beasts of the woods
and the fowls of the air. There, Judith; there's Kildeer; take him back,
ag'in, and keep him for some hand that's more desarving to own such a
piece."

"I know of none as deserving as your own, Deerslayer," answered the girl
in haste; "none but yours shall keep the rifle."

"If it depended on skill, you might be right enough, gal, but we should
know when to use firearms, as well as how to use 'em. I haven't l'arnt
the first duty yet, it seems; so keep the piece till I have. The sight
of a dyin' and distressed creatur', even though it be only a bird,
brings wholesome thoughts to a man who don't know how soon his own time
may come, and who is pretty sartain that it will come afore the sun
sets; I'd give back all my vain feelin's, and rej'icin's in hand and
eye, if that poor eagle was only on its nest ag'in, with its young,
praisin' the Lord for anything that we can know about the matter, for
health and strength!"

The listeners were confounded with this proof of sudden repentance in
the hunter, and that too for an indulgence so very common, that men
seldom stop to weigh its consequences, or the physical suffering it may
bring on the unoffending and helpless. The Delaware understood what was
said, though he scarce understood the feelings which had prompted the
words, and by way of disposing of the difficulty, he drew his keen
knife, and severed the head of the sufferer from its body.

"What a thing is power!" continued the hunter, "and what a thing it is
to have it, and not to know how to use it. It's no wonder, Judith, that
the great so often fail of their duties, when even the little and the
humble find it so hard to do what's right, and not to do what's wrong.
Then, how one evil act brings others a'ter it! Now, wasn't it for this
furlough of mine, which must soon take me back to the Mingos, I'd find
this creatur's nest, if I travelled the woods a fortnight--though
an eagle's nest is soon found by them that understands the bird's
natur',--but I'd travel a fortnight rather than not find it, just to put
the young, too, out of their pain."

"I'm glad to hear you say this, Deerslayer," observed Hetty, "and God
will be more apt to remember your sorrow for what you've done, than the
wickedness itself. I thought how wicked it was to kill harmless birds,
while you were shooting, and meant to tell you so; but, I don't know how
it happened,--I was so curious to see if you could hit an eagle at so
great a height, that I forgot altogether to speak, 'till the mischief
was done."

"That's it; that's just it, my good Hetty. We can all see our faults and
mistakes when it's too late to help them! Howsever I'm glad you didn't
speak, for I don't think a word or two would have stopped me, just at
that moment, and so the sin stands in its nakedness, and not aggravated
by any unheeded calls to forbear. Well, well, bitter thoughts are hard
to be borne at all times, but there's times when they're harder than at
others."

Little did Deerslayer know, while thus indulging in feelings that
were natural to the man, and so strictly in accordance with his
own unsophisticated and just principles, that, in the course of the
inscrutable providence, which so uniformly and yet so mysteriously
covers all events with its mantle, the very fault he was disposed so
severely to censure was to be made the means of determining his own
earthly fate. The mode and the moment in which he was to feel the
influence of this interference, it would be premature to relate, but
both will appear in the course of the succeeding chapters. As for
the young man, he now slowly left the Ark, like one sorrowing for his
misdeeds, and seated himself in silence on the platform. By this time
the sun had ascended to some height, and its appearance, taken in
connection with his present feelings, induced him to prepare to depart.
The Delaware got the canoe ready for his friend, as soon as apprised of
his intention, while Hist busied herself in making the few arrangements
that were thought necessary to his comfort. All this was done without
ostentation, but in a way that left Deerslayer fully acquainted with,
and equally disposed to appreciate, the motive. When all was ready, both
returned to the side of Judith and Hetty, neither of whom had moved from
the spot where the young hunter sat.

"The best fri'nds must often part," the last began, when he saw the
whole party grouped around him--"yes, fri'ndship can't alter the ways
of Providence, and let our feelin's be as they may, we must part. I've
often thought there's moments when our words dwell longer on the mind
than common, and when advice is remembered, just because the mouth that
gives it isn't likely to give it ag'in. No one knows what will happen in
this world, and therefore it may be well, when fri'nds separate under a
likelihood that the parting may be long, to say a few words in kindness,
as a sort of keepsakes. If all but one will go into the Ark, I'll talk
to each in turn, and what is more, I'll listen to what you may have to
say back ag'in, for it's a poor counsellor that won't take as well as
give."

As the meaning of the speaker was understood, the two Indians
immediately withdrew as desired, leaving the sisters, however, still
standing at the young man's side. A look of Deerslayer's induced Judith
to explain.

"You can advise Hetty as you land," she said hastily, "for I intend that
she shall accompany you to the shore."

"Is this wise, Judith? It's true, that under common sarcumstances
a feeble mind is a great protection among red-skins, but when their
feelin's are up, and they're bent on revenge, it's hard to say what may
come to pass. Besides--"

"What were you about to say, Deerslayer?" asked Judith, whose gentleness
of voice and manner amounted nearly to tenderness, though she struggled
hard to keep her emotions and apprehensions in subjection.

"Why, simply that there are sights and doin's that one even as little
gifted with reason and memory as Hetty here, might better not witness.
So, Judith, you would do well to let me land alone, and to keep your
sister back."

"Never fear for me, Deerslayer," put in Hetty, who comprehended enough
of the discourse to know its general drift, "I'm feeble minded, and that
they say is an excuse for going anywhere; and what that won't excuse,
will be overlooked on account of the Bible I always carry. It is
wonderful, Judith, how all sorts of men; the trappers as well as the
hunters; red-men as well as white; Mingos as well as Delawares do
reverence and fear the Bible!"

"I think you have not the least ground to fear any injury, Hetty,"
answered the sister, "and therefore I shall insist on your going to the
Huron camp with our friend. Your being there can do no harm, not even to
yourself, and may do great good to Deerslayer."

"This is not a moment, Judith, to dispute, and so have the matter your
own way," returned the young man. "Get yourself ready, Hetty, and go
into the canoe, for I've a few parting words to say to your sister,
which can do you no good."

Judith and her companion continued silent, until Hetty had so far
complied as to leave them alone, when Deerslayer took up the subject,
as if it had been interrupted by some ordinary occurrence, and in a very
matter of fact way.

"Words spoken at parting, and which may be the last we ever hear from a
fri'nd are not soon forgotten," he repeated, "and so Judith, I intend
to speak to you like a brother, seein' I'm not old enough to be your
father. In the first place, I wish to caution you ag'in your inimies,
of which two may be said to ha'nt your very footsteps, and to beset your
ways. The first is oncommon good looks, which is as dangerous a foe
to some young women, as a whole tribe of Mingos could prove, and which
calls for great watchfulness--not to admire and praise--but to distrust
and sarcumvent. Yes, good looks may be sarcumvented, and fairly
outwitted, too. In order to do this you've only to remember that they
melt like the snows, and, when once gone, they never come back ag'in.
The seasons come and go, Judith, and if we have winter, with storms and
frosts, and spring with chills and leafless trees, we have summer with
its sun and glorious skies, and fall with its fruits, and a garment
thrown over the forest, that no beauty of the town could rummage out of
all the shops in America. 'Arth is in an etarnal round, the goodness of
God bringing back the pleasant when we've had enough of the onpleasant.
But it's not so with good looks. They are lent for a short time in
youth, to be used and not abused, and, as I never met with a young woman
to whom providence has been as bountiful as it has to you, Judith, in
this partic'lar, I warn you, as it might be with my dyin' breath, to
beware of the inimy--fri'nd, or inimy, as we deal with the gift."

It was so grateful to Judith to hear these unequivocal admissions of her
personal charms, that much would have been forgiven to the man who
made them, let him be who he might. But, at that moment, and from a far
better feeling, it would not have been easy for Deerslayer seriously
to offend her, and she listened with a patience, which, had it been
foretold only a week earlier, it would have excited her indignation to
hear.

"I understand your meaning, Deerslayer," returned the girl, with a
meekness and humility that a little surprised her listener, "and hope to
be able to profit by it. But, you have mentioned only one of the enemies
I have to fear; who, or what is the other."

"The other is givin' way afore your own good sense and judgment, I
find, Judith; yes, he's not as dangerous as I supposed. Howsever, havin'
opened the subject, it will be as well to end it honestly. The first
inimy you have to be watchful of, as I've already told you, Judith,
is oncommon good looks, and the next is an oncommon knowledge of the
sarcumstance. If the first is bad, the last doesn't, in any way, mend
the matter, so far as safety and peace of mind are consarned."

How much longer the young man would have gone on in his simple and
unsuspecting, but well intentioned manner, it might not be easy to say,
had he not been interrupted by his listener's bursting into tears, and
giving way to an outbreak of feeling, which was so much the more violent
from the fact that it had been with so much difficulty suppressed. At
first her sobs were so violent and uncontrollable that Deerslayer was a
little appalled, and he was abundantly repentant from the instant that
he discovered how much greater was the effect produced by his words than
he had anticipated. Even the austere and exacting are usually appeased
by the signs of contrition, but the nature of Deerslayer did not require
proofs of intense feelings so strong in order to bring him down to a
level with the regrets felt by the girl herself. He arose, as if an
adder had stung him, and the accents of the mother that soothes her
child were scarcely more gentle and winning than the tones of his voice,
as he now expressed his contrition at having gone so far.

"It was well meant, Judith," he said, "but it was not intended to hurt
your feelin's so much. I have overdone the advice, I see; yes, I've
overdone it, and I crave your pardon for the same. Fri'ndship's an awful
thing! Sometimes it chides us for not having done enough; and then,
ag'in it speaks in strong words for havin' done too much. Howsever, I
acknowledge I've overdone the matter, and as I've a ra'al and strong
regard for you, I rej'ice to say it, inasmuch as it proves how much
better you are, than my own vanity and consaits had made you out to be."

Judith now removed her hands from her face, her tears had ceased, and
she unveiled a countenance so winning with the smile which rendered
it even radiant, that the young man gazed at her, for a moment, with
speechless delight.

"Say no more, Deerslayer," she hastily interposed; "it pains me to hear
you find fault with yourself. I know my own weakness, all the better,
now I see that you have discovered it; the lesson, bitter as I have
found it for a moment, shall not be forgotten. We will not talk any
longer of these things, for I do not feel myself brave enough for the
undertaking, and I should not like the Delaware, or Hist, or even Hetty,
to notice my weakness. Farewell, Deerslayer; may God bless and protect
you as your honest heart deserves blessings and protection, and as I
must think he will."

Judith had so far regained the superiority that properly belonged to her
better education, high spirit, and surpassing personal advantages, as
to preserve the ascendancy she had thus accidentally obtained, and
effectually prevented any return to the subject that was as singularly
interrupted, as it had been singularly introduced. The young man
permitted her to have every thing her own way, and when she pressed his
hard hand in both her own, he made no resistance, but submitted to the
homage as quietly, and with quite as matter of course a manner, as a
sovereign would have received a similar tribute from a subject, or the
mistress from her suitor. Feeling had flushed the face and illuminated
the whole countenance of the girl, and her beauty was never more
resplendant than when she cast a parting glance at the youth. That
glance was filled with anxiety, interest and gentle pity. At the next
instant, she darted into the hut and was seen no more, though she spoke
to Hist from a window, to inform her that their friend expected her
appearance.

"You know enough of red-skin natur', and red-skin usages, Wah-ta-Wah,
to see the condition I am in on account of this furlough," commenced the
hunter in Delaware, as soon as the patient and submissive girl of
that people had moved quietly to his side; "you will therefore best
onderstand how onlikely I am ever to talk with you ag'in. I've but
little to say; but that little comes from long livin' among your people,
and from havin' obsarved and noted their usages. The life of a woman is
hard at the best, but I must own, though I'm not opinionated in favor of
my own colour, that it is harder among the red men than it is among
the pale-faces. This is a p'int on which Christians may well boast, if
boasting can be set down for Christianity in any manner or form, which I
rather think it cannot. Howsever, all women have their trials. Red women
have their'n in what I should call the nat'ral way, while white women
take 'em innoculated like. Bear your burthen, Hist, becomingly, and
remember if it be a little toilsome, how much lighter it is than that of
most Indian women. I know the Sarpent well--what I call cordially--and
he will never be a tyrant to any thing he loves, though he will expect
to be treated himself like a Mohican Chief. There will be cloudy days
in your lodge I suppose, for they happen under all usages, and among all
people, but, by keepin' the windows of the heart open there will always
be room for the sunshine to enter. You come of a great stock yourself,
and so does Chingachgook. It's not very likely that either will ever
forget the sarcumstance and do any thing to disgrace your forefathers.
Nevertheless, likin' is a tender plant, and never thrives long when
watered with tears. Let the 'arth around your married happiness be
moistened by the dews of kindness."

"My pale brother is very wise; Wah will keep in her mind all that his
wisdom tells her."

"That's judicious and womanly, Hist. Care in listening, and
stout-heartedness in holding to good counsel, is a wife's great
protection. And, now, ask the Sarpent to come and speak with me, for a
moment, and carry away with you all my best wishes and prayers. I shall
think of you, Hist, and of your intended husband, let what may come to
pass, and always wish you well, here and hereafter, whether the last is
to be according to Indian idees, or Christian doctrines."

Hist shed no tear at parting. She was sustained by the high resolution
of one who had decided on her course, but her dark eyes were luminous
with the feelings that glowed within, and her pretty countenance beamed
with an expression of determination that was in marked and singular
contrast to its ordinary gentleness. It was but a minute ere the
Delaware advanced to the side of his friend with the light, noiseless
tread of an Indian.

"Come this-a-way, Sarpent, here more out of sight of the women,"
commenced the Deerslayer, "for I've several things to say that mustn't
so much as be suspected, much less overheard. You know too well
the natur' of furloughs and Mingos to have any doubts or misgivin's
consarnin' what is like to happen, when I get back to the camp. On them
two p'ints therefore, a few words will go a great way. In the first
place, chief, I wish to say a little about Hist, and the manner in which
you red men treat your wives. I suppose it's accordin' to the gifts of
your people that the women should work, and the men hunt; but there's
such a thing as moderation in all matters. As for huntin', I see no good
reason why any limits need be set to that, but Hist comes of too good a
stock to toil like a common drudge. One of your means and standin' need
never want for corn, or potatoes, or anything that the fields yield;
therefore, I hope the hoe will never be put into the hands of any wife
of yourn. You know I am not quite a beggar, and all I own, whether in
ammunition, skins, arms, or calicoes, I give to Hist, should I not come
back to claim them by the end of the season. This will set the maiden
up, and will buy labor for her, for a long time to come. I suppose I
needn't tell you to love the young woman, for that you do already, and
whomsoever the man ra'ally loves, he'll be likely enough to cherish.
Nevertheless, it can do no harm to say that kind words never rankle,
while bitter words do. I know you're a man, Sarpent, that is less apt to
talk in his own lodge, than to speak at the Council Fire; but forgetful
moments may overtake us all, and the practyse of kind doin', and kind
talkin', is a wonderful advantage in keepin' peace in a cabin, as well
as on a hunt."

"My ears are open," returned the Delaware gravely; "the words of my
brother have entered so far that they never can fall out again. They
are like rings, that have no end, and cannot drop. Let him speak on; the
song of the wren and the voice of a friend never tire."

"I will speak a little longer, chief, but you will excuse it for the
sake of old companionship, should I now talk about myself. If the worst
comes to the worst, it's not likely there'll be much left of me but
ashes, so a grave would be useless, and a sort of vanity. On that score
I'm no way partic'lar, though it might be well enough to take a look
at the remains of the pile, and should any bones, or pieces be found,
'twould be more decent to gather them together, and bury them, than to
let them lie for the wolves to gnaw at, and howl over. These matters
can make no great difference in the mind, but men of white blood and
Christian feelin's have rather a gift for graves."

"It shall be done as my brother says," returned the Indian, gravely. "If
his mind is full, let him empty it in the bosom of a friend."

"I thank you, Sarpent; my mind's easy enough; yes, it's tolerable easy.
Idees will come uppermost that I'm not apt to think about in common,
it's true, but by striving ag'in some, and lettin' other some out, all
will come right in the long run. There's one thing, howsever, chief,
that does seem to me to be onreasonable, and ag'in natur', though the
missionaries say it's true, and bein' of my religion and colour I feel
bound to believe them. They say an Injin may torment and tortur' the
body to his heart's content, and scalp, and cut, and tear, and burn,
and consume all his inventions and deviltries, until nothin' is left but
ashes, and they shall be scattered to the four winds of heaven, yet when
the trumpet of God shall sound, all will come together ag'in, and the
man will stand forth in his flesh, the same creatur' as to looks, if not
as to feelin's, that he was afore he was harmed!"

"The missionaries are good men--mean well," returned the Delaware
courteously; "they are not great medicines. They think all they say,
Deerslayer; that is no reason why warriors and orators should be all
ears. When Chingachgook shall see the father of Tamenund standing in his
scalp, and paint, and war lock, then will he believe the missionaries."

"Seein' is believin', of a sartainty; ahs! me--and some of us may see
these things sooner than we thought. I comprehind your meanin' about
Tamenund's father, Sarpent, and the idee's a close idee. Tamenund is now
an elderly man, say eighty every day of it, and his father was scalped,
and tormented, and burnt, when the present prophet was a youngster. Yes,
if one could see that come to pass, there wouldn't be much difficulty
in yieldin' faith to all that the missionaries say. Howsever, I am
not ag'in the opinion now, for you must know, Sarpent, that the great
principle of Christianity is to believe without seeing, and a man should
always act up to his religion and principles, let them be what they
may."

"That is strange for a wise nation!" said the Delaware with emphasis.
"The red man looks hard, that he may see and understand."

"Yes, that's plauserble, and is agreeable to mortal pride, but it's not
as deep as it seems. If we could understand all we see, Sarpent, there
might be not only sense, but safety, in refusin' to give faith to any
one thing that we might find oncomperhensible; but when there's so many
things about which it may be said we know nothin' at all, why, there's
little use, and no reason, in bein' difficult touchin' any one in
partic'lar. For my part, Delaware, all my thoughts haven't been on the
game, when outlyin' in the hunts and scoutin's of our youth. Many's the
hour I've passed, pleasantly enough too, in what is tarmed conterplation
by my people. On such occasions the mind is actyve, though the body
seems lazy and listless. An open spot on a mountain side, where a wide
look can be had at the heavens and the 'arth, is a most judicious place
for a man to get a just idee of the power of the Manitou, and of his
own littleness. At such times, there isn't any great disposition to find
fault with little difficulties, in the way of comperhension, as there
are so many big ones to hide them. Believin' comes easy enough to me at
such times, and if the Lord made man first out of 'arth, as they tell me
it is written in the Bible; then turns him into dust at death; I see
no great difficulty in the way to bringin' him back in the body,
though ashes be the only substance left. These things lie beyond our
understandin', though they may and do lie so close to our feelin's. But,
of all the doctrines, Sarpent, that which disturbs me, and disconsarts
my mind the most, is the one which teaches us to think that a pale-face
goes to one heaven, and a red-skin to another; it may separate in death
them which lived much together, and loved each other well, in life!"

"Do the missionaries teach their white brethren to think it is so?"
demanded the Indian, with serious earnestness. "The Delawares believe
that good men and brave warriors will hunt together in the same pleasant
woods, let them belong to whatever tribe they may; that all the unjust
Indians and cowards will have to sneak in with the dogs and the wolves
to get venison for their lodges."

"'Tis wonderful how many consaits mankind have consarnin' happiness and
misery, here after!" exclaimed the hunter, borne away by the power of
his own thoughts. "Some believe in burnin's and flames, and some think
punishment is to eat with the wolves and dogs. Then, ag'in, some fancy
heaven to be only the carryin' out of their own 'arthly longin's, while
others fancy it all gold and shinin' lights! Well, I've an idee of my
own, in that matter, which is just this, Sarpent. Whenever I've done
wrong, I've ginirally found 'twas owin' to some blindness of the mind,
which hid the right from view, and when sight has returned, then has
come sorrow and repentance. Now, I consait that, after death, when
the body is laid aside or, if used at all, is purified and without its
longin's, the spirit sees all things in their ra'al lights and never
becomes blind to truth and justice. Such bein' the case, all that has
been done in life, is beheld as plainly as the sun is seen at noon;
the good brings joy, while the evil brings sorrow. There's nothin'
onreasonable in that, but it's agreeable to every man's exper'ence."

"I thought the pale-faces believed all men were wicked; who then could
ever find the white man's heaven?"

"That's ingen'ous, but it falls short of the missionary teachin's.
You'll be Christianized one day, I make no doubt, and then 'twill all
come plain enough. You must know, Sarpent, that there's been a great
deed of salvation done, that, by God's help, enables all men to find
a pardon for their wickednesses, and that is the essence of the white
man's religion. I can't stop to talk this matter over with you any
longer, for Hetty's in the canoe, and the furlough takes me away, but
the time will come I hope when you'll feel these things; for, after all,
they must be felt rather than reasoned about. Ah's! me; well, Delaware,
there's my hand; you know it's that of a fri'nd, and will shake it as
such, though it never has done you one half the good its owner wishes it
had."

The Indian took the offered hand, and returned its pressure warmly. Then
falling back on his acquired stoicism of manner, which so many mistake
for constitutional indifference, he drew up in reserve, and prepared
to part from his friend with dignity. Deerslayer, however, was more
natural, nor would he have at all cared about giving way to his
feelings, had not the recent conduct and language of Judith given him
some secret, though ill defined apprehensions of a scene. He was too
humble to imagine the truth concerning the actual feelings of that
beautiful girl, while he was too observant not to have noted the
struggle she had maintained with herself, and which had so often led
her to the very verge of discovery. That something extraordinary was
concealed in her breast he thought obvious enough, and, through a
sentiment of manly delicacy that would have done credit to the highest
human refinement, he shrunk from any exposure of her secret that might
subsequently cause regret to the girl, herself. He therefore determined
to depart, now, and that without any further manifestations of feeling
either from him, or from others.

"God bless you! Sarpent--God bless you!" cried the hunter, as the canoe
left the side of the platform. "Your Manitou and my God only know when
and where we shall meet ag'in; I shall count it a great blessing, and a
full reward for any little good I may have done on 'arth, if we shall be
permitted to know each other, and to consort together, hereafter, as we
have so long done in these pleasant woods afore us!"

Chingachgook waved his hand. Drawing the light blanket he wore over
his head, as a Roman would conceal his grief in his robes, he slowly
withdrew into the Ark, in order to indulge his sorrow and his musings,
alone. Deerslayer did not speak again until the canoe was half-way to
the shore. Then he suddenly ceased paddling, at an interruption that
came from the mild, musical voice of Hetty.

"Why do you go back to the Hurons, Deerslayer?" demanded the girl. "They
say I am feeble-minded, and such they never harm, but you have as much
sense as Hurry Harry; and more too, Judith thinks, though I don't see
how that can well be."

"Ah! Hetty, afore we land I must convarse a little with you child,
and that too on matters touching your own welfare, principally. Stop
paddling--or, rather, that the Mingos needn't think we are plotting and
contriving, and so treat us accordingly, just dip your paddle lightly,
and give the canoe a little motion and no more. That's just the idee and
the movement; I see you're ready enough at an appearance, and might be
made useful at a sarcumvention if it was lawful now to use one--that's
just the idee and the movement! Ah's! me. Desait and a false tongue are
evil things, and altogether onbecoming our colour, Hetty, but it is a
pleasure and a satisfaction to outdo the contrivances of a red-skin in
the strife of lawful warfare. My path has been short, and is like soon
to have an end, but I can see that the wanderings of a warrior aren't
altogether among brambles and difficulties. There's a bright side to a
warpath, as well as to most other things, if we'll only have the wisdom
to see it, and the ginerosity to own it."

"And why should your warpath, as you call it, come so near to an end,
Deerslayer?"

"Because, my good girl, my furlough comes so near to an end. They're
likely to have pretty much the same tarmination, as regards time, one
following on the heels of the other, as a matter of course."

"I don't understand your meaning, Deerslayer--" returned the girl,
looking a little bewildered. "Mother always said people ought to speak
more plainly to me than to most other persons, because I'm feeble
minded. Those that are feeble minded, don't understand as easily as
those that have sense."

"Well then, Hetty, the simple truth is this. You know that I'm now a
captyve to the Hurons, and captyves can't do, in all things, as they
please--"

"But how can you be a captive," eagerly interrupted the girl--"when you
are out here on the lake, in father's best canoe, and the Indians are in
the woods with no canoe at all? That can't be true, Deerslayer!"

"I wish with all my heart and soul, Hetty, that you was right, and that
I was wrong, instead of your bein' all wrong, and I bein' only too near
the truth. Free as I seem to your eyes, gal, I'm bound hand and foot in
ra'ality."

"Well it is a great misfortune not to have sense! Now I can't see or
understand that you are a captive, or bound in any manner. If you are
bound, with what are your hands and feet fastened?"

"With a furlough, gal; that's a thong that binds tighter than any
chain. One may be broken, but the other can't. Ropes and chains allow of
knives, and desait, and contrivances; but a furlough can be neither cut,
slipped nor sarcumvented."

"What sort of a thing is a furlough, then, if it be stronger than hemp
or iron? I never saw a furlough."

"I hope you may never feel one, gal; the tie is altogether in the
feelin's, in these matters, and therefore is to be felt and not seen.
You can understand what it is to give a promise, I dare to say, good
little Hetty?"

"Certainly. A promise is to say you will do a thing, and that binds you
to be as good as your word. Mother always kept her promises to me, and
then she said it would be wicked if I didn't keep my promises to her,
and to every body else."

"You have had a good mother, in some matters, child, whatever she may
have been in other some. That is a promise, and as you say it must be
kept. Now, I fell into the hands of the Mingos last night, and they let
me come off to see my fri'nds and send messages in to my own colour, if
any such feel consarn on my account, on condition that I shall be back
when the sun is up to-day, and take whatever their revenge and hatred
can contrive, in the way of torments, in satisfaction for the life of
a warrior that fell by my rifle, as well as for that of the young woman
shot by Hurry, and other disapp'intments met with on and about this
lake. What is called a promise atween mother and darter, or even atween
strangers in the settlements is called a furlough when given by one
soldier to another, on a warpath. And now I suppose you understand my
situation, Hetty."

The girl made no answer for some time, but she ceased paddling
altogether, as if the novel idea distracted her mind too much to admit
of other employment. Then she resumed the dialogue earnestly and with
solicitude.

"Do you think the Hurons will have the heart to do what you say,
Deerslayer?" she asked. "I have found them kind and harmless."

"That's true enough as consarns one like you, Hetty, but it's a very
different affair when it comes to an open inimy, and he too the owner of
a pretty sartain rifle. I don't say that they bear me special malice on
account of any expl'ites already performed, for that would be bragging,
as it might be, on the varge of the grave, but it's no vanity to believe
that they know one of their bravest and cunnin'est chiefs fell by my
hands. Such bein' the case, the tribe would reproach them if they failed
to send the spirit of a pale-face to keep the company of the spirit of
their red brother; always supposin' that he can catch it. I look for
no marcy, Hetty, at their hands; and my principal sorrow is that such a
calamity should befall me on my first warpath: that it would come sooner
or later, every soldier counts on and expects."

"The Hurons shall not harm you, Deerslayer," cried the girl, much
excited--"'Tis wicked as well as cruel; I have the Bible, here, to tell
them so. Do you think I would stand by and see you tormented?"

"I hope not, my good Hetty, I hope not; and, therefore, when the moment
comes, I expect you will move off, and not be a witness of what you
can't help, while it would grieve you. But, I haven't stopped the
paddles to talk of my own afflictions and difficulties, but to speak a
little plainly to you, gal, consarnin' your own matters."

"What can you have to say to me, Deerslayer! Since mother died, few talk
to me of such things."

"So much the worse, poor gal; yes, 'tis so much the worse, for one of
your state of mind needs frequent talking to, in order to escape the
snares and desaits of this wicked world. You haven't forgotten Hurry
Harry, gal, so soon, I calculate?"

"I!--I forget Henry March!" exclaimed Hetty, starting. "Why should I
forget him, Deerslayer, when he is our friend, and only left us last
night. Then the large bright star that mother loved so much to gaze at
was just over the top of yonder tall pine on the mountain, as Hurry got
into the canoe; and when you landed him on the point, near the east bay,
it wasn't more than the length of Judith's handsomest ribbon above it."

"And how can you know how long I was gone, or how far I went to land
Hurry, seein' you were not with us, and the distance was so great, to
say nothing of the night?"

"Oh! I know when it was, well enough," returned Hetty
positively--"There's more ways than one for counting time and distance.
When the mind is engaged, it is better than any clock. Mine is feeble,
I know, but it goes true enough in all that touches poor Hurry Harry.
Judith will never marry March, Deerslayer."

"That's the p'int, Hetty; that's the very p'int I want to come to.
I suppose you know that it's nat'ral for young people to have kind
feelin's for one another, more especially when one happens to be a youth
and t'other a maiden. Now, one of your years and mind, gal, that has
neither father nor mother, and who lives in a wilderness frequented by
hunters and trappers, needs be on her guard against evils she little
dreams of."

"What harm can it be to think well of a fellow creature," returned Hetty
simply, though the conscious blood was stealing to her cheeks in spite
of a spirit so pure that it scarce knew why it prompted the blush, "the
Bible tells us to 'love them who despitefully use' us, and why shouldn't
we like them that do not."

"Ah! Hetty, the love of the missionaries isn't the sort of likin' I
mean. Answer me one thing, child; do you believe yourself to have mind
enough to become a wife, and a mother?"

"That's not a proper question to ask a young woman, Deerslayer, and
I'll not answer it," returned the girl, in a reproving manner--much as
a parent rebukes a child for an act of indiscretion. "If you have any
thing to say about Hurry, I'll hear that--but you must not speak evil of
him; he is absent, and 'tis unkind to talk evil of the absent."

"Your mother has given you so many good lessons, Hetty, that my fears
for you are not as great as they were. Nevertheless, a young woman
without parents, in your state of mind, and who is not without beauty,
must always be in danger in such a lawless region as this. I would say
nothin' amiss of Hurry, who, in the main, is not a bad man for one
of his callin', but you ought to know one thing, which it may not be
altogether pleasant to tell you, but which must be said. March has a
desperate likin' for your sister Judith."

"Well, what of that? Everybody admires Judith, she's so handsome, and
Hurry has told me, again and again, how much he wishes to marry her.
But that will never come to pass, for Judith don't like Hurry. She likes
another, and talks about him in her sleep; though you need not ask me
who he is, for all the gold in King George's crown, and all the jewels
too, wouldn't tempt me to tell you his name. If sisters can't keep each
other's secrets, who can?"

"Sartainly, I do not wish you to tell me, Hetty, nor would it be any
advantage to a dyin' man to know. What the tongue says when the mind's
asleep, neither head nor heart is answerable for."

"I wish I knew why Judith talks so much in her sleep, about officers,
and honest hearts, and false tongues, but I suppose she don't like to
tell me, as I'm feeble minded. Isn't it odd, Deerslayer, that Judith
don't like Hurry--he who is the bravest looking youth that ever comes
upon the lake, and is as handsome as she is herself. Father always said
they would be the comeliest couple in the country, though mother didn't
fancy March any more than Judith. There's no telling what will happen,
they say, until things actually come to pass."

"Ahs! me--well, poor Hetty, 'tis of no great use to talk to them that
can't understand you, and so I'll say no more about what I did wish
to speak of, though it lay heavy on my mind. Put the paddle in motion
ag'in, gal, and we'll push for the shore, for the sun is nearly up, and
my furlough is almost out."

The canoe now glided ahead, holding its way towards the point where
Deerslayer well knew that his enemies expected him, and where he now
began to be afraid he might not arrive in season to redeem his
plighted faith. Hetty, perceiving his impatience without very clearly
comprehending its cause, however, seconded his efforts in a way that
soon rendered their timely return no longer a matter of doubt. Then,
and then only, did the young man suffer his exertions to flag, and Hetty
began, again, to prattle in her simple confiding manner, though nothing
farther was uttered that it may be thought necessary to relate.

 The sorrowful group gathers in the morning for what seems to be a final meeting. Chingachgook and Hist are happy in their love for each other, but they are obviously depressed about their friend's departure, and his fate. Deerslayer and Judith still try to convince each other of their respective viewpoints. Deerslayer and Chingachgook, however, have formulated some plans. Deerslayer, although he accepts his companion's offer of help, prefers that Chingachgook flee with Hist to the Delaware territory. After giving everyone some advice for the future, Deerslayer asks Judith's permission to give Tom Hutter's gun, Killdeer to Chingachgook in case he is unable to use it; she says it is his to do with as he pleases. The two men decide to test the rifle and enjoy a last contest of shooting skills. Deerslayer again shows his quicker eye and superior marksmanship. After the first moments of pleasure at the results of the bird shooting match, Deerslayer regrets the unnecessary taking of life. He muses about the fearsome use of power and the dangerous use of firearms by those who have not learned moderation, respect, and humility. Deerslayer's fraternal comments to Judith, Hist, and Chingachgook impress them with his wisdom. Hetty, however, is unable to follow closely the lessons he teaches the others about their behavior. Deerslayer allows Hetty to accompany him to the Indian camp despite his doubts about the wisdom of her presence during the coming agony, and in the canoe, lie endeavors to counsel her. He especially warns Hetty about her growing love for Hurry Harry which, in Deerslayer's view, is an impossible sentiment between two individuals so very different. Hetty does not grasp Deerslayer's meaning, and he ceases trying to convince her of moral dangers. They approach the place of assignation without incident.

