CHAPTER I.
The turf shall be my fragrant shrine;
My temple, Lord! that arch of thine;
My censer's breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.
Moore.
The sublimity connected with vastness is familiar to every
eye. The most abstruse, the most far-reaching, perhaps the
most chastened of the poet's thoughts, crowd on the imagination
as he gazes into the depths of the illimitable void. The expanse
of the ocean is seldom seen by the novice with indifference,
and the mind, even in the obscurity of night, finds a parallel
to that grandeur, which seems inseparable from images
that the senses cannot compass. With feelings akin to this admiration
and awe—the offspring of sublimity—were the different
characters with which the action of this tale must open,
gazing on the scene before them. Four persons in all—two
of each sex—they had managed to ascend a pile of trees,
that had been uptorn by a tempest, to catch a view of the
objects that surrounded them. It is still the practice of the
country to call these spots wind-rows. By letting in the
light of heaven upon the dark and damp recesses of the
wood, they form a sort of oases in the solemn obscurity of
the virgin forests of America. The particular wind-row of
which we are writing, lay on the brow of a gentle acclivity,
and, though small, it had opened the way for an extensive
view to those who might occupy its upper margin, a rare
occurrence to the traveller in the woods. As usual, the spot
was small, but owing to the circumstances of its lying on the
low acclivity mentioned, and that of the opening's extending
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downward, it offered more than common advantages to the
eye. Philosophy has not yet determined the nature of the
power that so often lays desolate spots of this description:
some ascribing it to the whirlwinds that produce water-spouts
on the ocean; while others again impute it to sudden and
violent passages of streams of the electric fluid; but the effects
in the woods are familiar to all. On the upper margin
of the opening to which there is allusion, the viewless influence
had piled tree on tree, in such a manner as had not only
enabled the two males of the party to ascend to an elevation
of some thirty feet above the level of the earth, but, with a
little care and encouragement, to induce their more timid
companions to accompany them. The vast trunks that had
been broken and driven by the force of the gust, lay blended
like jack-straws, while their branches, still exhaling the
fragrance of wilted leaves, were interlaced in a manner to
afford sufficient support to the hands. One tree had been
completely uprooted, and its lower end, filled with earth,
had been cast uppermost, in a way to supply a sort of
staging for the four adventurers, when they had gained the
desired distance from the ground.
The reader is to anticipate none of the appliances of people
of condition in the description of the personal appearances
of the group in question. They were all wayfarers in the
wilderness; and had they not been, neither their previous
habits nor their actual social positions would have accustomed
them to many of the luxuries of rank. Two of the party,
indeed, a male and female, belonged to the native owners of
the soil, being Indians of the well-known tribe of the Tuscaroras;
while their companions were a man, who bore about
him the peculiarities of one who had passed his days on the
ocean, and is too, in a station little, if any, above that of a
common mariner; while his female associate was a maiden
of a class in no great degree superior to his own; though
her youth, sweetness of countenance, and a modest, but
spirited mien, lent that character of intellect and refinement,
which adds so much to the charm of beauty in the sex. On
the present occasion, her full blue eye reflected the feeling
of sublimity that the scene excited, and her pleasant face
was beaming with the pensive expression, with which all
deep emotions, even though they bring the most grateful
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pleasure, shadow the countenances of the ingenuous and
thoughtful.
And, truly, the scene was of a nature deeply to impress
the imagination of the beholder. Towards the west, in which
direction the faces of the party were turned, and in which
alone could much be seen, the eye ranged over an ocean of
leaves, glorious and rich in the varied but lively verdure of a
generous vegetation, and shaded by the luxuriant tints that
belong to the forty-second degree of latitude. The elm, with
its graceful and weeping top, the rich varieties of the maple,
most of the noble oaks of the American forest, with the broadleafed
linden, known in the parlance of the country as the
bass-wood, mingled their uppermost branches, forming one
broad and seemingly interminable carpet of foliage, that
stretched away towards the setting sun, until it bounded the
horizon, by blending with the clouds, as the waves and the
sky meet at the base of the vault of Heaven. Here and there,
by some accident of the tempests, or by a caprice of nature,
a trifling opening among these giant members of the forest
permitted an inferior tree to struggle upward toward the
light, and to li&longs;t its modest head nearly to a level with the
surrounding surface of verdure. Of this class were the birch,
a tree of some account in regions less favoured, the quivering
aspen, various generous nut-woods, and divers others that
resembled the ignoble and vulgar, thrown by circumstances
into the presence of the stately and great. Here and there,
too, the tall, straight trunk of the pine, pierced the vast field,
rising high above it, like some grand monument reared by
art on a plain of leaves.
It was the vastness of the view, the nearly unbroken surface
of verdure, that contained the principle of grandeur.
The beauty was to be traced in the delicate tints, relieved
by gradations of light and shadow; while the solemn repose,
induced the feeling allied to awe.
“Uncle,” said the wondering, but pleased girl, addressing
her male companion, whose arm she rather touched than
leaned on, to steady her own light but firm footing, “this is
like a view of the ocean you so much love!”
“So much for ignorance, and a girl's fancy, Magnet,”—
a term of affection the sailor often used in allusion to his
niece's personal attractions,—“no one but a child would
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think of likening this handful of leaves to a look at the real
Atlantic. You might seize all these tree-tops to Neptune's
jacket, and they would make no more than a nosegay for
his bosom.”
“More fanciful than true, I think, uncle. Look thither;
it must be miles on miles, and yet we see nothing but leaves!
what more could one behold, if looking at the ocean?”
“More!” returned the uncle, giving an impatient gesture
with the elbow the other touched, for his arms were crossed,
and the hands were thrust into the bosom of a vest of red
cloth, a fashion of the times,—“more, Magnet? say, rather,
what less? Where are your combing seas, your blue water,
your rollers, your breakers, your whales, or your water-spouts,
and your endless motion, in this bit of a forest, child?”
“And where are your tree-tops, your solemn silence, your
fragrant leaves, and your beautiful green, uncle, on the
ocean?”
“Tut, Magnet; if you understood the thing, you would
know, that green water is a sailor's bane. He scarcely
relishes a green-horn less.”
“But green trees are a different thing. Hist! that sound
is the air breathing among the leaves!”
“You should hear a nor-wester breathe, girl, if you fancy
wind aloft. Now, where are your gales, and hurricanes,
and trades, and levanters, and such like incidents, in this bit
of a forest, and what fishes have you swimming beneath
yonder tame surface!”
“That there have been tempests here, these signs around
us plainly show; and beasts, if not fishes, are beneath those
leaves.”
“I do not know that,” returned the uncle, with a sailor's
dogmatism. “They told us many stories at Albany, of the
wild animals we should fall in with, and yet we have seen
nothing to frighten a seal. I doubt if any of your inland
animals will compare with a low latitude shark!”
“See!” exclaimed the niece, who was more occupied with
the sublimity and beauty of the “boundless wood,” than
with her uncle's arguments, “younder is a smoke curling over
the tops of the trees—can it come from a house?”
“Ay, ay; there is a look of humanity in that smoke,”
returned the old seaman, “which is worth a thousand trees.
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I must show it to Arrowhead, who may be running past a
port without knowing it. It is probable there is a camboose,
where there is a smoke.”
As he concluded, the uncle drew a hand from his bosom,
touched the male Indian, who was standing near him, lightly
on the shoulder, and pointed out a thin line of vapour that
was stealing slowly out of the wilderness of leaves, at a distance
of about a mile, and was diffusing itself in almost
imperceptible threads of humidity, in the quivering atmosphere.
The Tuscarora was one of those noble-looking warriors
that were oftener met with among the aborigines of this
continent a century since, than to-day; and, while he had
mingled sufficiently with the colonists to be familiar with
their habits, and even with their language, he had lost little,
if any, of the wild grandeur and simple dignity of a chief.
Between him and the old seaman the intercourse had been
friendly, but distant, for the Indian had been too much accustomed
to mingle with the officers of the different military posts
he had frequented, not to understand that his present companion
was only a subordinate. So imposing, indeed, had been the
quiet superiority of the Tuscarora's reserve, that Charles Cap,
for so was the seaman named, in his most dogmatical or facetious
moments, had not ventured on familiarity, in an intercourse
that had now lasted more than a week. The sight
of the curling smoke, however, had struck the latter like the
sudden appearance of a sail at sea, and, for the first time
since they met, he ventured to touch the warrior, as has been
related.
The quick eye of the Tuscarora instantly caught a sight
of the smoke, and for quite a minute, he stood, slightly raised
on tiptoe, with distended nostrils, like the buck that scents a
taint in the air, and a gaze as riveted as that of the trained
pointer, while he waits his master's aim. Then falling back on
his feet, a low exclamation, in the soft tones that form so singular
a contrast to its harsher cries, in the Indian warrior's
voice, was barely audible; otherwise, he was undisturbed. His
countenance was calm, and his quick, dark, eagle eye moved,
over the leafy panorama, as if to take in at a glance every
circumstance that might enlighten his mind. That the long
journey they had attempted to make through a broad belt
of wilderness, was necessarily attended with danger, both
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uncle and niece well knew; though neither could at once determine
whether the sign that others were in their vicinity,
was the harbinger of good or evil.
“There must be Oneidas, or Tuscaroras, near us, Arrowhead,”
said Cap, addressing his Indian companion by his
conventional English name; “will it not be well to join company
with them, and get a comfortable berth for the night in
their wigwam?”
“No wigwam there,” Arrowhead answered, in his unmoved
manner—“too much tree.”
“But Indians must be there; perhaps some old mess-mates
of your own, Master Arrowhead.”
“No Tuscarora — no Oneida — no Mohawk — pale-face
fire.”
“The devil it is! well, Magnet, this surpasses a seaman's
philosophy—we old sea-dogs can tell a soldier's from a sailor's
quid, or a lubber's nest from a mate's hammock; but I
do not think the oldest admiral in his majesty's fleet can tell
a king's smoke from a collier's!”
The idea that human beings were in their vicinity in that
ocean of wilderness, had deepened the flush on the blooming
cheek and brightened the eye of the fair creature at his
side, but she soon turned with a look of surprise to her
relative, and said hesitatingly, for both had often admired the
Tuscarora's knowledge, or we might almost say, instinct —
“A pale-face's fire! Surely, uncle, he cannot know that!”
“Ten days since, child, I would have sworn to it; but,
now, I hardly know what to believe. May I take the liberty
of asking, Arrowhead, why you fancy that smoke, now, a
pale-face's smoke, and not a red-skin's?”
“Wet wood,” returned the warrior, with the calmness
with which the pedagogue might point out an arithmetical
demonstration to his puzzled pupil. “Much wet — much
smoke; much water—black smoke.”
“But, begging your pardon, Master Arrowhead, the smoke
is not black, nor is there much of it. To my eye, now, it is
as light and fanciful a smoke as ever rose from a captain's teakettle,
when nothing was left to make the fire, but a few
chips from the dunnage.”
“Too much water,” returned Arrowhead, with a slight
nod of the head: “Tuscarora too cunning to make fire with
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water; pale-face too much book, and burn any thing; much
book, little know.”
“Well, that's reasonable, I allow,” said Cap, who was no
devotee of learning: “he means that as a hit at your reading,
Magnet, for the Chief has sensible notions of things
in his own way. How far, now, Arrowhead, do you make
us by your calculation, from the bit of a pond, that you call
the Great Lake, and towards which we have been so many
days shaping our course?”
The Tuscarora looked at the seaman with quiet superiority,
as he answered —
“Ontario, like heaven; one sun, and the great traveller
will know it.”
“Well, I have been a great traveller, I cannot deny, but
of all my v'y'ges this has been the longest, the least profitable,
and the farthest inland. If this body of fresh water is
so nigh, Arrowhead, and at the same time so large, one
might think a pair of good eyes would find it out, for, apparently,
every thing within thirty miles is to be seen from this
lookout.”
“Look,” said Arrowhead, stretching an arm before him
with quiet grace; “Ontario!”
“Uncle, you are accustomed to cry `land ho!' but not
`water ho!' and you do not see it,” cried the niece, laughing
as girls will laugh at their own idle conceits.
“How now, Magnet, dost suppose that I shouldn't know
my native element, if it were in sight?”
“But, Ontario is not your native element, dear uncle, for
you come from the salt water, while this is fresh.”
“That might make some difference to your young mariner,
but none in the world to the old one. I should know water,
child, were I to see it in China.”
“Ontario,” repeated the Arrowhead, with emphasis, again
stretching his hand towards the north-west.
Cap looked at the Tuscarora, for the first time since their
acquaintance, with something like an air of contempt, though
he did not fail to follow the direction of the chief's eye and
arm, both of which were directed, to all appearance, toward a
vacant point in the heavens, a short distance above the plain
of leaves.
“Ay, ay; this is much as I expected, when I left the coast
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to come in search of a fresh-water pond,” resumed Cap, shrugging
his shoulders like one whose mind was made up, and
who thought no more need be said. “Ontario may be there,
or, for that matter, it may be in my pocket. Well, I suppose
there will be room enough, when we reach it, to work our
canoe. But, Arrowhead, if there be pale-faces in our neighbourhood,
I confess I should like to get within hail of them.”
The Tuscarora now gave a quiet inclination of his head,
and the whole party descended from the roots of the uptorn
tree, in silence. When they had reached the ground, Arrowhead
intimated his intention to go towards the fire, and ascertain
who had lighted it, while he advised his wife and the
two others to return to a canoe, which they had left in the
adjacent stream, and await his return.
“Why, chief, this might do on soundings, and in an offing
where one knew the channel,” returned old Cap, “but in an
unknown region like this, I think it unsafe to trust the pilot
alone too far from the ship: so, with your leave, we will not
part company.”
“What my brother want?” asked the Indian, gravely,
though without taking offence at a distrust that was sufficiently
plain.
“Your company, Master Arrowhead, and no more. I will
go with you, and speak these strangers.”
The Tuscarora assented without difficulty, and again he
directed his patient and submissive little wife, who seldom
turned her full rich black eye on him, but to express equally
her respect, her dread, and her love, to proceed to the boat.
But, here, Magnet raised a difficulty. Although spirited, and
of unusual energy under circumstances of trial, she was but
woman, and the idea of being entirely deserted by her two
male protectors, in the midst of a wilderness, that her senses
had just told her was seemingly illimitable, became so keenly
painful that she expressed a wish to accompany her uncle.
“The exercise will be a relief, dear sir, after sitting so long
in the canoe,” she added, as the rich blood slowly returned
to a cheek that had paled, in spite of her efforts to be calm
“and there may be females with the strangers.”
“Come, then, child—it is but a cable's length, and we
shall return an hour before the sun sets.”
With this permission, the girl, whose real name was Mabel
Dunham, prepared to be of the party, while the Dew-of-June,
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as the wife of Arrowhead was called, passively went her way
towards the canoe, too much accustomed to obedience, solitude,
and the gloom of the forest, to feel apprehension.
The three who remained in the wind-row, now picked their
way around its tangled maze, and gained the margin of the
woods, in the necessary direction. A few glances of the eye
sufficed for Arrowhead, but old Cap deliberately set the smoke
by a pocket-compass, before he trusted himself within the
shadows of the trees.
“This steering by the nose, Magnet, may do well enough
for an Indian, but your thorough-bred knows the virtue of the
needle,” said the uncle, as he trudged at the heels of the light
stepping Tuscarora. “America would never have been discovered,
take my word for it, if Columbus had been nothing
but nostrils. Friend Arrowhead, didst ever see a machine
like this?”
The Indian turned, cast a glance at the compass, which Cap
held in a way to direct his course, and gravely answered—
“A pale-face eye. The Tuscarora see in his head. The
salt-water (for so the Indian styled his companion) all eye
now; no tongue.”
“He means, uncle, that we had needs be silent; perhaps
he distrusts the persons we are about to meet.”
“Ay—'t is an Indian's fashion of going to quarters. You
perceive he has examined the priming of his rifle, and it may
be as well, if I look to that of my own pistols.”
Without betraying alarm at these preparations, to which
she had become accustomed by her long journey in the wilderness,
Mabel followed with a step as light and elastic as
that of the Indian, keeping close in the rear of her companions.
For the first half mile, no other caution beyond
a rigid silence was observed, but as the party drew nearer
to the spot, where the fire was known to be, much greater
care became necessary.
The forest, as usual, had little to intercept the view, below
the branches, but the tall straight trunks of trees. Every
thing belonging to vegetation, had struggled towards the
light, and beneath the leafy canopy one walked, as it might
be, through a vast natural vault, that was upheld by myriads
of rustic columns. These columns, or trees, however, often
served to conceal the adventurer, the hunter, or the foe, and
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as Arrowhead swiftly approached the spot where his
practised and unerring senses told him the strangers ought
to be, his footstep gradually became lighter, his eye more
vigilant, and his person was more carefully concealed.
“See, salt-water,” he said exultingly, pointing at the same
time through the vista of trees, “pale-face fire!”
“By the Lord, the fellow is right!” muttered Cap; “there
they are, sure enough, and eating their grub as quietly as if
they were in the cabin of a three-decker.”
“Arrowhead is but half right,” whispered Mabel, “for
there are two Indians and only one white man.”
“Pale-faces,” said the Tuscarora, holding up two fingers;
“red man” holding up one.
“Well,” rejoined Cap, “it is hard to say which is right
and which is wrong. One is entirely white, and a fine comely
lad he is, with an air of life and respectability about him;
one is a red-skin as plain as paint and nature can make him;
but the third chap is half-rigged, being neither brig nor
schooner.”
“Pale-faces,” repeated Arrowhead, again raising two fingers—
“red man,” showing but one.
“He must be right, uncle, for his eye seems never to fail.
But it is now urgent to know whether we meet as friends or
foes. They may be French.”
“One hail will soon satisfy us on that head,” returned
Cap. “Stand you behind this tree, Magnet, lest the knaves
take it into their heads to fire a broadside, without a parley,
and I will soon learn what colours they sail under.”
The uncle had placed his two hands to his mouth to
form a trumpet, and was about to give the promised hail,
when a rapid movement from the hand of Arrowhead defeated
the intention by deranging the instrument.
“Red man, Mohican,” said the Tuscarora; “good; pale-faces,
Yengeese.”
“These are heavenly tidings,” murmured Mabel, who
little relished the prospect of a deadly fray in that remote
wilderness. “Let us approach at once, dear uncle, and proclaim
ourselves friends.”
“Good, said the Tuscarora, “red man cool, and know;
pale-face hurried, and fire. Let the squaw go.”
“What,” said Cap, in astonishment, “send little Magnet
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ahead, as a look-out, while two lubbers, like you and me, lieto,
to see what sort of a land-fall she will make! If I do,
I—”
“It is wisest, uncle,” interrupted the generous girl, “and
I have no fear. No Christian, seeing a woman approach
alone, would fire upon her, and my presence will be a
pledge of peace. Let me go forward, as Arrowhead wishes,
and all will be well. We are, as yet, unseen, and the surprise
of the strangers will not partake of alarm.”
“Good,” returned Arrowhead, who did not conceal his
approbation of Mabel's spirit.
“It has an unseaman-like look,” answered Cap, “but,
being in the woods, no one will know it. If you think
Mabel—”
“Uncle, I know. There is no cause to fear for me; and
you are always nigh to protect me.”
“Well, take one of the pistols, then—”
“Nay, I had better rely on my youth and feebleness,” said
the girl, smiling, while her colour heightened under her
feelings—“Among Christian men, a woman's best guard is
her claim to their protection. I know nothing of arms, and
wish to live in ignorance of them.”
The uncle desisted: and, after receiving a few cautious
instructions from the Tuscarora, Mabel rallied all her spirit,
and advanced alone towards the group seated near the fire.
Although the heart of the girl beat quick, her step was firm,
and her movements, seemingly, were without reluctance. A
death-like silence reigned in the forest, for they towards whom
she approached, were too much occupied in appeasing that
great natural appetite, hunger, to avert their looks, for an
instant, from the important business in which they were all
engaged. When Agnes, however, had got within a hundred
feet of the fire, she trod upon a dried stick, and the trifling
noise that was produced by her light footstep caused the
Mohican, as Arrowhead had pronounced the Indian to be,
and his companion whose character had been thought so
equivocal, to rise to their feet, as quick as thought. Both
glanced at the rifles that leaned against a tree, and then each
stood without stretching out an arm, as his eyes fell on the
form of the girl. The Indian uttered a few words to his
companion, and resumed his seat and his meal, as calmly as
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if no interruption had occurred. On the contrary, the white
man left the fire, and came forward to meet Mabel.
The latter saw, as the stranger approached, that she was
about to be addressed by one of her own colour, though his
dress was so strange a mixture of the habits of the two races,
that it required a near look to be certain of the fact. He was
of middle age, but there was an open honesty, a total absence
of guile, in his face, which otherwise would not have been
thought handsome, that at once assured Magnet she was in
no danger. Still she paused, in obedience to a law of her
habits if not of nature, which rendered her averse to the
appearance of advancing too freely to meet one of the other
sex, under the circumstances in which she was placed.
“Fear nothing, young woman,” said the hunter, for such
his attire would indicate him to be, “you have met Christian
men, in the wilderness, and such as know how to treat all
kindly that are disposed to peace and justice. I am a man
well known in all these parts, and perhaps one of my names
may have reached your ears. By the Frenchers, and the
red-skins on the other side of the Big Lakes, I am called la
Longue Carabine; by the Mohicans, a just-minded and upright
tribe, what is left of them, Hawk Eye; while the troops
and rangers along this side of the water call me Pathfinder,
inasmuch as I have never been known to miss one end of the
trail, when there was a Mingo, or a friend, who stood in need
of me, at the other.”
This was not uttered boastfully, but with the honest confidence
of one, who well knew that by whatever name others
might have heard of him, he had no reason to blush at the
reports. The effect on Agnes was instantaneous. The
moment she heard the last soubriquet, she clasped her hands
eagerly and repeated the word—
“Pathfinder!”
“So they call me, young woman, and many a great lord
has got a title that he did not half so well merit; though,
if truth be said, I rather pride myself in finding my way,
where there is no path, than in finding it where there is. But
the regular troops are by no means particular, and half the
time they don't know the difference between a trail and a
path, though one is a matter for the eye, while the other is
little more than scent.”
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“Then you are the friend my father promised to send to
meet us!”
“If you are serjeant Dunham's daughter, the great
Prophet of the Delawares never uttered more truth.”
“I am Mabel, and yonder, hid by the trees, are my uncle,
whose name is Cap, and a Tuscarora, called Arrowhead. We
did not hope to meet you until we had nearly reached the
shores of the lake.”
“I wish a juster-minded Indian had been your guide,”
said Pathfinder, “for I am no lover of the Tuscaroras, who
have travelled too far from the graves of their fathers always
to remember the Great Spirit; and Arrowhead is an ambitious
chief. Is the Dew-of-June with him?”
“His wife accompanies us, and a humble and mild creature
she is.”
“Ay, and true-hearted; which is more than any who know
him will say of Arrowhead. Well, we must take the fare
that Providence bestows, while we follow the trail of life.
I suppose worse guides might have been found than the
Tuscarora; though he has too much Mingo blood for one
who consorts altogether with the Delawares.”
“It is then, perhaps, fortunate we have met,” said Mabel.
“It is not misfortunate, at any rate, for I promised the
serjeant I would see his child safe to the garrison, though I
died for it. We expected to meet you before you reached
the falls, where we have left our own canoe; while we
thought it might do no harm to come up a few miles, in order
to be of service if wanted. It is lucky we did, for I doubt
if Arrowhead be the man to shoot the current.”
“Here come my uncle and the Tuscarora, and our parties
can now join.”
As Mabel concluded, Cap and Arrowhead, who saw that
the conference was amicable, drew nigh, and a few words
sufficed to let them know as much as the girl herself had
learned from the strangers. As soon as this was done, the
party proceeded towards the two who still remained near the
fire.
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CHAPTER II.
Yea! long as nature's humblest child
Hath kept her temple undefiled
By simple sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a monarch, and his throne
Is built amid the skies!
Wilson.
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The Mohican continued to eat, though the second white
man rose, and courteously took off his cap to Mabel Dunham.
He was young, healthful, and manly in appearance; and
he wore a dress, which, while it was less rigidly professional
than that of the uncle, also denoted one accustomed to the
water. In that age, real seamen were a class entirely apart
from the rest of mankind;—their ideas, ordinary language,
and attire, being as strongly indicative of their calling, as the
opinions, speech, and dress of a Turk denote a Mussulman
Although the Pathfinder was scarcely in the prime of life,
Mabel had met him with a steadiness that may have been the
consequence of having braced her nerves for the interview;
but, when her eyes encountered those of the young man at
the fire, they fell before the gaze of admiration, with which
she saw, or fancied she saw, he greeted her. Each, in truth,
felt that interest in the other, which similarity of age, condition,
mutual comeliness, and their novel situation would be
likely to inspire in the young and ingenuous.
“Here,” said Pathfinder, with an honest smile bestowed on
Mabel, “are the friends your worthy father has sent to meet
you. This is a great Delaware; and one that has had
honours as well as troubles in his day. He has an Indian
name fit for a chief, but as the language is not always easy
for the inexperienced to pronounce, we naturally turn it into
English, and call him the Big Sarpent. You are not to suppose,
however, that by this name we wish to say that he is
treacherous, beyond what is lawful in a red-skin, but that he
is wise, and has the cunning that becomes a warrior. Arrowhead,
there, knows what I mean.”
While the Pathfinder was delivering this address, the two
Indians gazed on each other steadily, and the Tuscarora
-- 027 --
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advanced and spoke to the other in an apparently friendly
manner.
“I like to see this,” continued Pathfinder; “the salutes
of two red-skins in the woods, master Cap, are like the hailing
of friendly vessels on the ocean. But, speaking of
water, it reminds me of my young friend, Jasper Western,
here, who can claim to know something of these matters,
seeing that he has passed his days on Ontario.”
“I am glad to see you, friend,” said Cap, giving the young
fresh-water sailor a cordial gripe; “though you must have
something still to learn, considering the school to which you
have been sent. This is my niece, Mabel—I call her Magnet,
for a reason she never dreams of, though you may,
possibly, have education enough to guess at it, having some
pretensions to understand the compass, I suppose.”
“The reason is easily comprehended,” said the young
man, involuntarily fastening his keen dark eye, at the same
time, on the suffused face of the girl; “and I feel sure that
the sailor who steers by your Magnet, will never make a bad
land-fall.”
“Ha—you do make use of some of the terms, I find, and
that with propriety and understanding; though, on the whole,
I fear you have seen more green than blue water!”
“It is not surprising that we should get some of the
phrases that belong to the land, for we are seldom out of
sight of it, twenty-four hours at a time.”
“More 's the pity, boy; more 's the pity. A very little
land ought to go a great way with a seafaring man. Now,
if the truth were known, Master Western, I suppose there is
more or less land all round your lake.”
“And, uncle, is there not more or less land around the
ocean?” said Magnet, quickly; for she dreaded a premature
display of the old seaman's peculiar dogmatism, not to say,
pedantry.
“No, child, there is more or less ocean all round the land!
that 's what I tell the people ashore, youngster. They are
living, as it might be, in the midst of the sea, without knowing
it; by sufferance, as it were, the water being so much
the more powerful, and the largest. But there is no end to
conceit in this world, for a fellow who never saw salt water
often fancies he knows more than one who has gone round
-- 028 --
[figure description] Page 028.[end figure description]
the Horn. No—no—this earth is pretty much an island,
and all that can be truly said not to be so, is water.”
Young Western had a profound deference for a mariner
of the ocean, on which he had often pined to sail; but he
had, also, a natural regard for the broad sheet on which he
had passed his life, and which was not without its beauties in
his eyes.
“What you say, sir,” he answered, modestly, “may be
true, as to the Atlantic; but we have a respect for the land,
up here, on Ontario.”
“That is because you are always land-locked,” returned
Cap, laughing heartily; “But yonder is the Pathfinder, as
they call him, with some smoking platters, inviting us to
share in his mess; and I will confess that one gets no venison
at sea. Master Western, civility to girls, at your time of life,
comes as easy as taking in the slack of the ensign halyards;
and if you will just keep an eye to her kid and cann, while I
join the mess of the Pathfinder and our Indian friends, I
make no doubt she will remember it.”
Master Cap uttered more than he was aware of at the
time. Jasper Western did attend to the wants of Mabel, and
she long remembered the kind, manly attention of the young
sailor, at this their first interview. He placed the end of a
log for a seat, obtained for her a delicious morsel of the venison,
gave her a draught of pure water from the spring, and as
he sat near and opposite to her, fast won his way to her esteem
by his gentle but frank manner of manifesting his care; homage
that woman always wishes to receive, but which is never
so flattering, or so agreeable, as when it comes from the young
to those of their own age; from the manly to the gentle.
Like most of those who pass their time excluded from the
society of the softer sex, young Western was earnest, sincere,
and kind in his attentions, which, though they wanted a
conventional refinement, that, perhaps, Mabel never missed,
had those winning qualities that prove very sufficient as substitutes.
Leaving these two inexperienced and unsophisticated
young people to become acquainted through their feelings,
rather than their expressed thoughts, we will turn to the
group, in which the uncle, with a facility of taking care
of himself that never deserted him, had already become
a principal actor.
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The party had taken their places around a platter of venison
steaks, which served for the common use, and the discourse
naturally partook of the characters of the different
individuals that composed it. The Indians were silent and
industrious, the appetite of the aboriginal American for venison
being seemingly inappeasable, while the two white men
were communicative and discursive, each of the latter being
garrulous and opinionated in his way. But, as the dialogue
will serve to put the reader in possession of certain facts that
may render the succeeding narrative more clear, it will be
well to record it.
“There must be satisfaction in this life of yours, no doubt,
Mr. Pathfinder,” continued Cap, when the hunger of the
travellers was so far appeased that they began to pick and
choose among the savoury morsels; “it has some of the
chances and luck that we seamen like, and if ours is all
water, yours is all land.”
“Nay, we have water too, in our journeyings and marches,”
returned his white companion: “we border-men handle the
paddle and the spear, almost as much as the rifle and the
hunting-knife.”
“Ay; but do you handle the brace and the bow-line; the
wheel and the lead-line; the reef-point and the top-rope?
The paddle is a good thing, out of doubt, in a canoe, but of
what use is it in the ship?”
“Nay, I respect all men in their callings, and I can believe
the things you mention have their uses. One, who has lived,
like myself, in company with many tribes, understands
differences in usages. The paint of a Mingo is not the
paint of a Delaware; and he who should expect to see a
warrior in the dress of a squaw, might be disappointed. I
am not yet very old, but I have lived in the woods, and have
some acquaintance with human natur'. I never believed
much in the learning of them that dwell in towns, for I never
yet met with one that had an eye for a rifle, or a trail.”
“That's my manner of reasoning, Master Pathfinder, to
a yarn. Walking about streets, going to church of Sundays,
and hearing sermons, never yet made a man of a human
being. Send the boy out upon the broad ocean, if you wish
to open his eyes, and let him look upon foreign nations, or,
what I call the face of natur', if you wish him to understand
-- 030 --
[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]
his own character. Now, there is my brother-in-law, the
serjeant, he is as good a fellow as ever broke a biscuit, in
his way; but what is he, after all? why, nothing but a soldier.
A serjeant, to be sure, but that is a sort of a soldier,
you know. When he wished to marry poor Bridget, my
sister, I told the girl what he was, as in duty bound, and
what she might expect from such a husband, but you know
how it is with girls when their minds are jammed by an inclination.
It is true, the serjeant has risen in his calling, and
they say he is an important man at the fort; but his poor wife
has not lived to see it all, for she has now been dead these
fourteen years.”
“A soldier's calling is an honourable calling, provided he
has fi't only on the side of right,” returned the Pathfinder;
“and as the Frenchers are always wrong, and His Sacred
Majesty and these colonies are always right, I take it the
serjeant has a quiet conscience, as well as a good character.
I have never slept more sweetly than when I have fi't the
Mingos, though it is the law with me to fight always like a
white man, and never like an Indian. The Sarpent, here,
has his fashions, and I have mine; and yet have we fou't,
side by side, these many years, without either's thinking a
hard thought consarning the other's ways. I tell him there
is but one heaven and one hell, notwithstanding his traditions,
though there are many paths to both.”
“That is rational, and he is bound to believe you, though
I fancy most of the roads to the last, are on dry land. The
sea is what my poor sister, Bridget, use to call a `purifying
place,' and one is out of the way of temptation when out of
sight of land. I doubt if as much can be said in favour of
your lakes, up hereaway.”
“That towns and settlements lead to sin, I will allow; but
our lakes are bordered by the forests, and one is every day
called upon to worship God, in such a temple. That men
are not always the same, even in the wilderness, I must
admit, for the difference between a Mingo and a Delaware,
is as plain to be seen as the difference between the sun and
the moon. I am glad, friend Cap, that we have met, however,
if it be only that you may tell the Big Sarpent, here,
that there are lakes in which the water is salt. We have
been pretty much of one mind since our acquaintance began,
-- 031 --
[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]
and if the Mohican has only half the faith in me that I have
in him, he believes all that I have told him, touching the
white men's ways and natur's laws; but, it has always
seemed to me that none of the red-skins have given as free a
belief, as an honest man likes, to the accounts of the Big
Salt Lakes, and to that of there being rivers that flow up
stream.”
“This comes of getting things wrong end foremost,”
answered Cap, with a condescending nod. “You have
thought of your lakes and rifts, as the ship, and of the ocean
and the tides, as the boat. Neither Arrowhead nor the Serpent
need doubt what you have said concerning both, though
I confess, myself, to some difficulty in swallowing the tale
about there being inland seas, at all, and still more that there
is any sea of fresh water. I have come this long journey,
as much to satisfy my own eyes and palate concerning these
facts, as to oblige the serjeant and Magnet, though the first
was my sister's husband, and I love the last like a child.”
“You are wrong—you are wrong, friend Cap, very wrong
to distrust the power of God, in any thing,” returned Pathfinder,
earnestly. “They that live in the settlements and
the towns get to have confined and unjust opinions consarning
the might of His hand, but we who pass our time,
in his very presence, as it might be, see things differently—
I mean such of us as have white natur's. A red-skin has his
notions, and it is right that it should be so, and if they are
not exactly the same as a Christian white man's, there is no
harm in it. Still there are matters that belong altogether to
the ordering of God's Providence,—and these salt and fresh
water lakes are some of them. I do not pretend to account
for these things, but I think it the duty of all to believe in
them. For my part, I am one of them who think that the
same hand which made the sweet water, can make the salt.”
“Hold on there, Master Pathfinder,” interrupted Cap, not
without some heat; “in the way of a proper and manly faith,
I will turn my back on no one, when afloat. Although more
accustomed to make all snug aloft, and to show the proper
canvass, than to pray, when the hurricane comes, I know that
we are but helpless mortals at times, and I hope I pay reverence
where reverence is due. All I mean to say, and that
is rather insinuated than said, is this; which is, as you all
-- 032 --
[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]
know, simply an intimation that, being accustomed to see
water in large bodies salt, I should like to taste it, before I
can believe it to be fresh.”
“God has given the salt lick to the deer, and he has given
to man, red-skin and white, the delicious spring at which
to slake his thirst. It is unreasonable to think that he may
not have given lakes of pure water to the west, and lakes
of impure water to the east.”
Cap was awed, in spite of his overweening dogmatism, by
the earnest simplicity of the Pathfinder, though he did not
relish the idea of believing a fact which, for many years, he
had pertinaciously insisted could not be true. Unwilling to
give up the point, and, at the same time, unable to maintain
it against a reasoning to which he was unaccustomed, and
which possessed equally the force of truth, faith, and probability,
he was glad to get rid of the subject by evasion.
“Well, well, friend Pathfinder,” he said, “we will nipper
the argument where it is; and, as the serjeant has sent you
to give us pilotage to this same lake, we can try the water
when we once reach it. Only mark my words—I do not say
that it may not be fresh on the surface; the Atlantic is
sometimes fresh on the surface, near the mouths of great
rivers; but, rely on it, I shall show you a way of tasting the
water many fathoms deep, of which you never dreamed;
and then we shall know more about it.”
The guide seemed content to let the matter rest, and the
conversation changed.
“We are not over-conceited concerning our gifts,” observed
the Pathfinder after a short pause, “and well know that such
as live in the towns, and near the sea—”
“On the sea,” interrupted Cap.
“On the sea, if you wish it, friend, have opportunities that
do not befal us of the wilderness. Still, we know our own
callings, and they are what I consider natural callings, and
are not parvarted by vanity and wantonness. Now, my gifts
are with the rifle, and on a trail, and in the way of game and
scouting; for, though I can use the spear and the paddle, I
pride not myself on either. The youth, Jasper, there, who
is discoursing with the serjeant's daughter, is a different
creatur', for he may be said to breathe the water, as it might
be, like a fish. The Indians and Frenchers of the north
-- 033 --
[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]
shore call him Eau-douce, on account of his gifts in this particular.
He is better at the oar and the rope too, than in
making fires on a trail.”
“There must be something about these gifts of which you
speak, after all,” said Cap. “Now this fire, I will acknowledge,
has overlaid all my seamanship. Arrowhead, there, said
the smoke came from a pale-face's fire, and that is a piece
of philosophy that I hold to be equal to steering in a dark
night by the edges of the scud.”
“It 's no great secret—it 's no great secret,” returned Pathfinder,
laughing with great inward glee, though habitual caution
prevented the emission of any noise. “Nothing is easier
to us who pass our time in the great school of Providence,
than to larn its lessons. We should be as useless on a trail,
or in carrying tidings through the wilderness, as so many
woodchucks, did we not soon come to a knowledge of these
niceties. Eau-douce, as we call him, is so fond of the water,
that he gathered a damp stick or two for our fire, and there
are plenty of them, as well as those that are thoroughly dried,
lying scattered about; and wet will bring dark smoke, as I
suppose even you followers of the sea must know. It 's no
great secret—it 's no great secret—though all is mystery to
such as doesn't study the Lord and his mighty ways with
humility and thankfulness.”
“That must be a keen eye of Arrowhead's, to see so slight
a difference.”
“He would be but a poor Indian, if he did'nt! No, no;
it is war-time, and no red-skin is outlying without using his
senses. Every skin has its own natur', and every natur' has
its own laws, as well as its own skin. It was many years
before I could master all these higher branches of a forest
edication, for red-skin knowledge doesn't come as easy to
white-skin natur', as what I suppose is intended to be white-skin
knowledge; though I have but little of the latter, having
past most of my time in the wilderness.”
“You have been a ready scholar, Master Pathfinder, as is
seen by your understanding these things so well. I suppose
it would be no great matter, for a man regularly brought up
to the sea, to catch these trifles, if he could only bring his
mind fairly to bear upon them.”
“I don't know that. The white man has his difficulties
-- 034 --
[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]
in getting red-skin habits, quite as much as the Indian in
getting white-skin ways. As for the real natur', it is my
opinion that neither can actually get that of the other.”
“And yet we sailors, who run about the world so much,
say there is but one nature, whether it be in the China-man
or a Dutchman. For my own part, I am much of that way
of thinking too; for I have generally found that all nations
like gold and silver, and most men relish tobacco.”
“Then you sea-faring men know little of the red-skins.
Have you ever known any of your China-men who could
sing their death-songs, with their flesh torn with splinters, and
cut with knives, the fire raging around their naked bodies,
and death staring them in the face? Until you can find me
a China-man, or a Christian-man, that can do all this, you
cannot find a man with a red-skin natur', let him look ever
so valiant, or know how to read all the books that were ever
printed.”
“It is the savages only that play each other such hellish
tricks!” said Master Cap, glancing his eyes about him uneasily
at the apparently endless arches of the forest. “No
white man is ever condemned to undergo these trials.”
“Nay, therein you are again mistaken,” returned the
Pathfinder, coolly selecting a delicate morsel of the venison
as his bonne bouche; “for though these torments belong
only to the red-skin natur', in the way of bearing them like
braves, white-skin natur' may be, and often has been, agonized
by them.”
“Happily,” said Cap, with an effort to clear his throat,
“none of His Majesty's allies will be likely to attempt such
damnable cruelties, on any of His Majesty's loyal subjects.
I have not served much in the royal navy, it is true; but I
have served—and that is something; and, in the way of privateering
and worrying the enemy in his ships and cargoes,
I 've done my full share. But I trust there are no French
savages on this side the lake, and I think you said that Ontario
is a broad sheet of water?”
“Nay, it is broad in our eyes,” returned Pathfinder, not
caring to conceal the smile which lighted a face that had
been burnt by exposure to a bright red, “though I mistrust
that some may think it narrow; and narrow it is, if you
wish it to keep off the foe. Ontario has two ends, and the
-- 035 --
[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]
enemy that is afraid to cross it, will be certain to come round
it.”
“Ah! that comes of your d—d freshwater ponds!”
growled Cap, hemming so loud as to cause him instantly to
repent the indiscretion. “No man, now, ever heard of a
pirate's, or a ship's getting round one end of the Atlantic!”
“Mayhap the ocean has no ends?”
“That it has n't; nor sides, nor bottom. The nation that
is snugly moored on one of its coasts need fear nothing from
the one anchored abeam, let it be ever so savage, unless it
possesses the art of ship-building. No—no—the people who
live on the shores of the Atlantic need fear but little for their
skins or their scalps. A man may lie down at night, in those
regions, in the hope of finding the hair on his head in the
morning, unless he wears a wig.”
“It is n't so here. I don't wish to flurry the young woman,
and therefore I will be no way particular—though she
seems pretty much listening to Eau-douce, as we call him—
but without the edication I have received, I should think it,
at this very moment, a risky journey to go over the very
ground that lies between us and the garrison, in the present
state of this frontier. There are about as many Iroquois on
this side of Ontario, as there are on the other. It is for this
very reason, friend Cap, that the serjeant has engaged us to
come out and show you the path.”
“What!—do the knaves dare to cruise so near the guns
of one of His Majesty's works?”
“Do not the ravens resort near the carcase of the deer,
though the fowler is at hand? They come this-a-way, as it
might be, naturally. There are more or less whites passing
between the forts and the settlements, and they are sure to be
on their trails. The Sarpent has come up one side of the
river, and I have come up the other, in order to scout for the
outlying rascals, while Jasper brought up the canoe, like a
bold-hearted sailor, as he is. The serjeant told him, with
tears in his eyes, all about his child, and how his heart
yearned for her, and how gentle and obedient she was, until
I think the lad would have dashed into a Mingo camp, single
handed, rather than not a-come.”
“We thank him—we thank him; and shall think the
-- 036 --
[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]
better of him for his readiness; though I suppose the boy has
run no great risk, after all.”
“Only the risk of being shot from a cover, as he forced
the canoe up a swift rift, or turned an elbow in the stream,
with his eyes fastened on the eddies. Of all the risky journeys,
that on an ambushed river is the most risky, in my
judgment, and that risk has Jasper run.”
“And why the devil has the serjeant sent for me to travel
a hundred and fifty miles in this outlandish manner! Give
me an offing, and the enemy in sight, and I 'll play with him
in his own fashion, as long as he pleases, long bows, or close
quarters; but to be shot like a turtle asleep, is not to my
humour. If it were not for little Magnet, there, I would
tack ship this instant, make the best of my way back to
York, and let Ontario take care of itself, salt water or fresh
water.”
“That wouldn't mend the matter much, friend mariner, as
the road to return is much longer, and almost as bad as the
road to go on. Trust to us, and we will carry you through
safe, or lose our scalps.”
Cap wore a tight solid cue, done up in eel-skin, while the
top of his head was nearly bald; and he mechanically passed
his hand over both, as if to make certain that each was
in its right place. He was at the bottom, however, a brave
man, and had often faced death with coolness, though never
in the frightful forms in which it presented itself, under the
brief, but graphic, picture of his companion. It was too late
to retreat; and he determined to put the best face on the matter,
though he could not avoid muttering inwardly a few
curses on the indifference and indiscretion with which his
brother-in-law, the serjeant, had led him into his present
dilemma.
“I make no doubt, Master Pathfinder,” he answered,
when these thoughts had found time to glance through his
mind, “that we shall reach port in safety. What distance
may we now be from the fort?”
“Little more than fifteen miles; and swift miles too, as
the river runs, if the Mingos let us go clear.”
“And I suppose the woods will stretch along, starboard and
larboard, as heretofore?”
“Anan?”
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[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]
“I mean that we shall have to pick our way through
these damned trees!”
“Nay, nay, you will go in the canoe, and the Oswego has
been cleared of its flood-wood by the troops. It will be floating
down stream, and that, too, with a swift current.”
“And what the devil is to prevent these minks, of which
you speak, from shooting us as we double a head-land, or are
busy in steering clear of the rocks?”
“The Lord!—He who has so often helped others, in greater
difficulties. Many and many is the time that my head would
have been stripped of hair, skin and all, hadn't the Lord fi't
of my side. I never go into a skrimmage, friend mariner,
without thinking of this great ally, who can do more in battle,
than all the battalions of the 60th, were they brought
into a single line.”
“Ay—ay—this may do well enough for a scouter; but
we seamen like our offing, and to go into action with nothing
in our minds, but the business before us—plain broadside
and broadside work, and no trees, or rocks, to thicken the
water.”
“And no Lord, too, I dare to say, if the truth were
known! Take my word for it, Master Cap, that no battle
is the worse fou't for having the Lord on your side. Look
at the head of the Big Sarpent, there; you can see the mark
of a knife all along by his left ear; now, nothing but a bullet
from this long rifle of mine, saved his scalp that day, for
it had fairly started, and half a minute more would have left
him without the war-lock. When the Mohican squeezes my
hand, and intermates that I befriended him in that matter, I
tell him, no; it was the Lord, who led me to the only spot
where execution could be done, or his necessity be made
known, on account of the smoke. Sartain when I got the
right position, I finished the affair of my own accord, for a
friend under the tomahawk is apt to make a man think quick,
and act at once, as was my case, or the Sarpent's spirit
would be hunting in the happy land of his people, at this very
moment.”
“Come, come, Pathfinder, this palaver is worse than being
skinned from stem to stern; we have but a few hours of sun,
and had better be drifting down this said current of yours,
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while we may. Magnet, dear, are you not ready to get
under way?”
Magnet started, blushed brightly, and made her preparations
for an immediate departure. Not a syllable of the
discourse just related had she heard, for Eau-douce, as young
Jasper was oftener called than any thing else, had been filling
her ears with a description of the yet distant port towards
which she was journeying, with accounts of her father, whom
she had not seen since a child, and with the manner of life
of those who lived in the frontier garrisons. Unconsciously,
she had become deeply interested, and her thoughts had been
too intently directed to these interesting matters, to allow any
of the less agreeable subjects discussed by those so near to
reach her ears. The bustle of departure put an end to the
conversation entirely, and the baggage of the scouts, or
guides, being trifling, in a few minutes, the whole party was
ready to proceed. As they were about to quit the spot, however,
to the surprise of even his fellow-guides, Pathfinder
collected a quantity of branches, and threw them upon the
embers of the fire, taking care even to see that some of the
wood was damp, in order to raise as dark and dense a smoke
as possible.
“When you can hide your trail, Jasper,” he said, “a
smoke at leaving an encampment may do good, instead of
harm. If there are a dozen Mingos within ten miles of us,
some on 'em are on the heights, or in the trees, looking out
for smokes; let them see this, and much good may it do
them. They are welcome to our leavings.”
“But may they not strike, and follow on our trail?” asked
the youth, whose interest in the hazard of his situation had
much increased, since the meeting with Magnet. “We shall
leave a broad path to the river.”
“The broader the better; when there, it will surpass Mingo
cunning, even, to say which way the canoe has gone; up
stream or down. Water is the only thing in natur' that will
thoroughly wash out a trail, and even water will not always
do it, when the scent is strong. Do you not see, Eau-douce,
that if any Mingos have seen our path below the falls, they
will strike off towards this smoke, and that they will naturally
conclude that they who began by going up stream, will
end by going up stream. If they know any thing, they now
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[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]
know a party is out from the fort, and it will exceed even
Mingo wit, to fancy that we have come up here, just for the
pleasure of going back again, and that, too, the same day,
and at the risk of our scalps.”
“Certainly,” added Jasper, who was talking apart with the
Pathfinder, as they moved towards the wind-row, “they cannot
know any thing about the serjeant's daughter, for the
greatest secrecy has been observed, on her account.”
“And they will learn nothing, here,” returned Pathfinder,
causing his companion to see that he trod with the utmost
care, on the impression left on the leaves, by the little foot of
Mabel, “unless this old salt-water fish has been taking his
niece about in the wind-row, lake a fa'n playing by the side
of the old doe.”
“Buck, you mean, Pathfinder.”
“Isn't he a queerity? — Now, I can consort with such a
sailor as yourself, Eau-douce, and find nothing very contrary
in our gifts, though yours belong to the lakes, and mine to
the woods. Harkee, Jasper,” continued the scout, laughing
in his noiseless manner; “suppose we try the temper of his
blade, and run him over the falls?”
“And what would be done with the pretty niece, in the
meanwhile?”
“Nay—nay—no harm shall come to her; she must walk
round the portage, at any rate; but you and I can try this
Atlantic oceaner, and then all parties will become better acquainted.
We shall find out whether his flint will strike fire;
and he may come to know something of frontier tricks.”
Young Jasper smiled, for he was not averse to fun, and
had been a little touched by Cap's superciliousness; but Mabel's
fair face, light agile form, and winning smiles, stood like a
shield between her uncle and the intended experiment.
“Perhaps the serjeant's daughter will be frightened,” he
said.
“Not she, if she has any of the serjeant's spirit in her.
She doesn't look like a skeary thing, at all. Leave it to me,
then, Eau-douce, and I will manage the affair alone.”
“Not you, Pathfinder; you would only drown both. If
the canoe goes over, I must go in it.”
“Well, have it so, then; shall we smoke the pipe of
agreement on the bargain?”
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Jasper laughed, nodded his head, by way of consent, and
then the subject was dropped, as the party had reached the
canoe, so often mentioned, and fewer words had determined
much greater things between the parties.
CHAPTER III.
“Before these fields were shorn and tilled,
Full to the brim our rivers flowed;
The melody of waters filled
The fresh and boundless wood;
And torrents dashed, and rivulets played,
And fountains spouted in the shade.”
—Bryant.
It is generally known, that the waters which flow into the
southern side of Ontario, are, in general, narrow, sluggish,
and deep. There are some exceptions to this rule, for many
of the rivers have rapids, or, as they are termed in the language
of the region, rifts, and some have falls. Among the
latter was the particular stream on which our adventurers
were now journeying. The Oswego is formed by the junction
of the Oneida and the Onondaga, both of which flow from
lakes; and it pursues its way, through a gentle undulating
country, some eight or ten miles, until it reaches the margin
of a sort of natural terrace, down which it tumbles some ten
or fifteen feet, to another level, across which it glides, or
glances, or pursues its course with the silent stealthy progress
of deep water, until it throws its tribute into the broad receptacle
of the Ontario. The canoe in which Cap and his party had
travelled from Fort Stanwix, the last military station on the
Mohawk, lay by the side of this river, and into it the whole
party now entered, with the exception of Pathfinder, who
remained on the land, in order to shove the light vessel off.
“Let her starn drift down stream, Jasper,” said the man
of the woods to the young mariner of the lake, who had
dispossessed Arrowhead of his paddle, and taken his own
station as steersman; “let it go down with the current.
Should any of these infarnals, the Mingos, strike our trail,
or follow it to this point, they will not fail to look for the
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signs in the mud, and if they discover that we have left the
shore, with the nose of the canoe up-stream, it is a natural
belief to think we went up stream.”
This direction was followed; and, giving a vigorous shove,
the Pathfinder, who was in the flower of his strength and
activity, made a leap, landing lightly, and without disturbing
its equilibrium, in the bow of the canoe. As soon as it had
reached the centre of the river, or the strength of the current,
the boat was turned, and it began to glide noiselessly down
the stream.
The vessel in which Cap and his niece had embarked for
their long and adventurous journey, was one of the canoes
of bark, which the Indians are in the habit of constructing,
and which, by their exceeding lightness, and the ease with
which they are propelled, are admirably adapted to a navigation
in which shoals, flood-wood, and other similar obstructions,
so often occur. The two men who composed its original
crew had several times carried it, when emptied of its luggage,
many hundred yards; and it would not have exceeded the
strength of a single man to lift its weight. Still it was long,
and for a canoe, wide, a want of steadiness being its principal
defect in the eyes of the uninitiated. A few hours practice,
however, in a great measure remedied this evil, and both
Mabel and her uncle had learned so far to humour its movements,
that they now maintained their places with perfect
composure; nor did the additional weight of the three guides
tax its power in any particular degree, the breadth of the
rounded bottom allowing the necessary quantity of water to
be displaced, without bringing the gunwale very sensibly
nearer to the surface of the stream. Its workmanship was
neat; the timbers were small, and secured by thongs; and
the whole fabric, though it was so slight and precarious to
the eye, was probably capable of conveying double the number
of persons that it now contained.
Cap was seated on a low thwart, in the centre of the canoe;
the Big Serpent knelt near him. Arrowhead and his wife
occupied places forward of both, the former having relinquished
his post aft. Mabel was half-reclining on some of her
own effects, behind her uncle, while the Pathfinder and Eaudouce
stood erect, the one in the bow, and the other in the
stern, each using a paddle, with a long, steady, noiseless
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sweep. The conversation was carried on in low tones, all
of the party beginning to feel the necessity of prudence, as
they drew nearer to the outskirts of the fort, and had no
longer the cover of the woods.
The Oswego, just at that place, was a deep, dark stream,
of no great width, its still, gloomy-looking current winding
its way among overhanging trees, that, in particular spots,
almost shut out the light of the heavens. Here and there
some half-fallen giant of the forest lay nearly across its surface,
rendering care necessary to avoid the limbs; and most
of the distance, the lower branches and leaves of the trees
of smaller growth were laved by its waters. The picture
which has been so beautifully described by our own admirable
poet, and which we have placed at the head of this chapter,
as an epigraph, was here realized; the earth fattened by
the decayed vegetation of centuries, and black with loam,
the stream that filled the banks nearly to overflowing, and
the “fresh and boundless wood,” being all as visible to the
eye, as the pen of Bryant has elsewhere vividly presented
them to the imagination. In short, the entire scene was one
of a rich and benevolent nature, before it has been subjected
to the uses and desires of man; luxuriant, wild, full of promise,
and not without the charm of the picturesque, even in
its rudest state. It will be remembered that this was in the
year 175-, or long before even speculation had brought any
portion of western New-York within the bounds of civilization,
or the projects of the adventurous. At that distant day,
there were two great channels of military communication
between the inhabited portion of the colony of New-York,
and the frontiers that lay adjacent to the Canadas:—that by
Lakes Champlain and George, and that by means of the
Mohawk, Wood Creek, the Oneida, and the rivers we have
been describing. Along both these lines of communication,
military posts had been established, though there existed a
blank space of a hundred miles between the last fort at the
head of the Mohawk, and the outlet of the Oswego, which
embraced most of the distance that Cap and Mabel had journeyed
under the protection of Arrowhead.
“I sometimes wish for peace, again,” said the Pathfinder,
“when one can range the forest without searching for any
other enemy than the beasts and fishes. Ah's! me; many
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is the day that the Sarpent, there, and I have passed happily
among the streams, living on venison, salmon and trout,
without thought of a Mingo, or a scalp! I sometimes wish
that them blessed days might come back, for it is not my
real gift to slay my own kind. I'm sartain the serjeant's
daughter don't think me a wretch that takes pleasure in preying
on human natur'?”
As this remark, a sort of half interrogatory, was made,
Pathfinder looked behind him; and, though the most partial
friend could scarcely term his sun-burnt and hard features
handsome, even Mabel thought his smile attractive, by its
simple ingenuousness, and the uprightness that beamed in
every lineament of his honest countenance.
“I do not think my father would have sent one like those
you mention, to see his daughter through the wilderness,” the
young woman answered, returning the smile as frankly as it
was given, and much more sweetly.
“That he would n't, that he would n't; the serjeant is a
man of feeling, and many is the march and the fight that
we have had—stood shoulder to shoulder in, as he would call
it—though I always keep my limbs free, when near a
Frencher, or a Mingo.”
“You are then the young friend of whom my father has
spoken so often in his letters?”
“His young friend—the serjeant has the advantage of me
by thirty years; yes, he is thirty years my senior, and as
many my better.”
“Not in the eyes of the daughter, perhaps, friend Pathfinder,”
put in Cap, whose spirits began to revive, when he
found the water once more flowing around him. “The thirty
years that you mention, are not often thought to be an advantage
in the eyes of girls of nineteen.”
Mabel coloured, and in turning aside her face, to avoid the
looks of those in the bow of the canoe, she encountered the
admiring gaze of the young man in the stern. As a last
resource her spirited, but soft blue eyes, sought refuge in the
water. Just at this moment, a dull heavy sound swept up
the avenue formed by the trees, borne along by a light air
that hardly produced a ripple on the water.
“That sounds pleasantly,” said Cap, pricking up his ears
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like a dog that hears a distant baying; “it is the surf on the
shores of your lake, I suppose?”
“Not so—not so;” answered the Pathfinder—“it is merely
this river tumbling over some rocks, half a mile below us.”
“Is there a fall in the stream!” demanded Mabel, a still
brighter flush glowing in her face.
“The devil! Master Pathfinder—or you, Mr. Eau-deuce—
(for so Cap began to style Jasper, by way of entering cordially
into the border usages,) had you not better give the
canoe a sheer, and get nearer to the shore? These water-falls
have generally rapids above them, and one might as
well get into the Maelstrom, at once, as to run into their suction.”
“Trust to us—trust to us, friend Cap,” answered Pathfinder;
“we are but fresh-water sailors, it is true, and I cannot
boast of being much even of that; but we understand
rifts, and rapids, and cataracts; and, in going down these,
we shall do our endeavours not to disgrace our edication.”
“In going down!” exclaimed Cap—“the devil, man! you
do not dream of going down a water-fall, in this egg-shell of
bark!”
“Sartain; the path lies over the falls, and it is much easier
to shoot them, than to unload the canoe, and to carry that,
and all it contains, around a portage of a mile, by hand.”
Mabel turned her pallid countenance towards the young
man in the stern of the canoe, for just at that moment a
fresh roar of the fall was borne to her ears, by a new current
of the air, and it really sounded terrific, now that the
cause was understood.
“We thought, that by landing the females, and the two
Indians,” Jasper quietly observed, “we three white men,
all of whom are used to the water, might carry the canoe
over in safety, for we often shoot these falls.”
“And we counted on you, friend mariner, as a mainstay;”
said Pathfinder, winking at Jasper over his shoulder, “for
you are accustomed to see waves tumbling about, and without
some one to steady the cargo, all the finery of the serjeant's
daughter might be washed into the river, and be lost.”
Cap was puzzled. The idea of going over a water-fall
was perhaps more serious, in his eyes, than it would have
been in those of one totally ignorant of all that pertained to
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boats; for he understood the power of the element, and the
total feebleness of man when exposed to its fury. Still, his
pride revolted at the thought of deserting the boat, while
others not only steadily, but coolly, proposed to continue in
it. Notwithstanding the latter feeling, and his innate as well
as acquired steadiness in danger, he would probably have
deserted his post, had not the images of Indians tearing scalps
from the human head taken so strong hold of his fancy, as
to induce him to imagine the canoe a sort of sanctuary.
“What is to be done with Magnet?” he demanded, affection
for his niece raising another qualm in his conscience.
“We cannot allow Magnet to land if there are enemy's Indians
near?”
“Nay—no Mingo will be near the portage, for that is a
spot too public for their deviltries,” answered the Pathfinder,
confidently. “Natur' is natur', and it is an Indian's natur'
to be found where he is least expected. No fear of him, on
a beaten path, for he wishes to come upon you, when unprepared
to meet him, and the fiery villains make it a point to
deceive you, one way or another. Sheer in, Eau-douce, and
we will land the serjeant's daughter, on the end of that log,
where she can reach the shore with a dry foot.”
The injunction was obeyed, and in a few minutes the whole
party had left the canoe, with the exception of Pathfinder and
the two sailors. Notwithstanding his professional pride, Cap
would have gladly followed, but he did not like to exhibit so
unequivocal a weakness in the presence of a fresh-water
sailor.
“I call all hands to witness,” he said, as those who had
landed moved away, “that I do not look on this affair as any
thing more than canoeing in the woods. There is no seamanship
in tumbling over a water-fall, which is a feat the
greatest lubber can perform as well as the oldest mariner.”
“Nay, nay, you needn't despise the Oswego Falls, neither,”
put in Pathfinder, “for though they may not be Niagara, nor
the Genessee, nor the Cahoos, nor Glenn's, nor those on the
Canada, they are narvous enough for a new beginner. Let
the serjeant's daughter stand on yonder rock, and she will
see the manner in which we ignorant back-woodsmen get
over a difficulty that we can't get under. Now, Eau-douce,
a steady hand and a true eye, for all rests on you, seeing
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that we can count Master Cap for no more than a passenger.”
The canoe was leaving the shore, as he concluded, while
Mabel went hurriedly and trembling to the rock that had
been pointed out, talking to her companion of the danger her
uncle so unnecessarily ran, while her eyes were riveted on
the agile and vigorous form of Eau-douce, as he stood erect
in the stern of the light boat, governing its movements. As
soon, however, as she reached a point where she got a view
of the fall, she gave an involuntary but suppressed scream,
and covered her eyes. At the next instant, the latter were
again free, and the entranced girl stood immovable as a
statue, a scarcely breathing observer of all that passed. The
two Indians seated them passively on a log, hardly looking
towards the stream, while the wife of Arrowhead came near
Mabel, and appeared to watch the motions of the canoe, with
some such interest as a child regards the leaps of a tumbler.
As soon as the boat was in the stream, Pathfinder sunk on
his knees, continuing to use the paddle, though it was slowly,
and in a manner not to interfere with the efforts of his companion.
The latter still stood erect, and, as he kept his eye
on some object beyond the fall, it was evident that he was
carefully looking for the spot proper for their passage.
“Farther west, boy; farther west—” muttered Pathfinder;
“there where you see the water foam. Bring the top of the
dead oak in a line with the stem of the blasted hemlock.”
Eau-douce made no answer, for the canoe was in the centre
of the stream, with its head pointed towards the fall, and
it had already begun to quicken its motion, by the increased
force of the current. At that moment, Cap would cheerfully
have renounced every claim to glory that could possibly be
acquired by the feat, to have been safe again on shore. He
heard the roar of the water, thundering as it might be, behind
a screen, but, becoming more and more distinct, louder and
louder, and before him he saw its line cutting the forest
below, along which the green and angry element seemed
stretched and shining, as if the particles were about to lose
their principle of cohesion.
“Down with your helm—down with your helm, man!”
he exclaimed, unable any longer to suppress his anxiety, as
the canoe glided towards the edge of the fall.
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“Ay—ay—down it is, sure enough,” answered Pathfinder,
looking behind him for a single instant, with his silent joyous
laugh—“down we go, of a sartainty! Heave her starn up,
boy; further up with her starn!”
The rest was like the passage of the viewless wind. Eaudouce
gave the required sweep with his paddle, the canoe
glanced into the channel, and for a few seconds it seemed to
Cap, that he was tossing in a cauldron. He felt the bow
of the canoe tip, saw the raging, foaming water, careering
madly by his side, was sensible that the light fabric in which
he floated was tossed about like an egg-shell, and then, not
less to his great joy than to his surprise, he discovered that
it was gliding across the basin of still water, below the fall,
under the steady impulse of Jasper's paddle.
The Pathfinder continued to laugh, but he arose from his
knees, and, searching for a tin pot and a horn spoon, he began
deliberately to measure the water that had been taken in
in the passage.
“Fourteen spoonsful, Eau-douce; fourteen fairly measured
spoonsful. I have, you must acknowledge, known you to go
down with only ten.”
“Master Cap leaned so hard up stream,” returned Jasper,
seriously, “that I had difficulty in trimming the canoe.”
“It may be so—it may be so; no doubt it was so, since
you say it; but I have known you go over with only ten.”
Cap now gave a tremendous hem, felt for his cue, as if to
ascertain its safety, and then looked back, in order to examine
the danger he had gone through. His safety is easily explained.
Most of the river fell perpendicularly ten or twelve
feet; but near its centre, the force of the current had so far
worn away the rock, as to permit the water to shoot through a
narrow passage, at an angle of about forty or forty-five degrees.
Down this ticklish descent the canoe had glanced, amid fragments
of broken rock, whirlpools, foam, and furious tossings
of the element, which an uninstructed eye would believe menaced
inevitable destruction to an object so fragile. But
the very lightness of the canoe had favoured its descent;
for, borne on the crests of the waves, and directed by a steady
eye and an arm full of muscle, it had passed like a feather
from one pile of foam to another, scarcely permitting its
glossy side to be wetted. There were a few rocks to be
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[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]
avoided; the proper direction was to be rigidly observed,
and the fierce current did the rest.*
To say that Cap was astonished, would not be expressing
half his feelings. He felt awed, for the profound dread of
rocks, which most seamen entertain, came in aid of his admiration
of the boldness of the exploit. Still he was indisposed
to express all he felt, lest it might be conceding too
much in favour of fresh water, and inland navigation; and
no sooner had he cleared his throat with the aforesaid hem,
than he loosened his tongue in the usual strain of superiority.
“I do not gainsay your knowledge of the channel, Master
Eau-deuce, (for such he religiously believed to be Jasper's
soubriquet,) and, after all, to know the channel in such a
place is the main point. I have had cockswains with me who
could come down that shoot too, if they only knew the
channel.”
“It isn't enough to know the channel, friend mariner,”
said Pathfinder; “it needs narves and skill to keep the canoe
straight, and to keep her clear of the rocks too. There isn't
another boatman in all this region that can shoot the Oswego,
but Eau-douce, there, with any sartainty; though, now and
then, one has blundered through. I can't do it myself, unless
by means of Providence and it needs Jasper's hand and
Jasper's eye, to make sure of a dry passage. Fourteen
spoonsful, after all, are no great matter, though I wish it had
been but ten, seeing that the serjeant's daughter was a looker
on.”
“And yet you conned the canoe; you told him how to
head, and how to sheer.”
“Human frailty, master mariner; that was a little of
white-skin natur'. Now, had the Sarpent, yonder, been in
the boat, not a word would he have spoken, or thought would
he have given to the public. An Indian knows how to hold
his tongue; but we white folk fancy we are always wiser than
our fellows. I'm curing myself fast of the weakness, but it
needs time to root up the tree that has been growing more
than thirty years.”
“I think little of this affair, sir; nothing at all, to speak
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[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]
my mind freely. It's a mere wash of spray to shooting
London Bridge, which is done every day by hundreds of persons,
and often by the most delicate ladies in the land. The
King's Majesty has shot the bridge in his royal person.”
“Well, I want no delicate ladies or king's majesties, (God
bless 'em,) in the canoe, in going over these falls; for a boat's
breadth, either way, may make a drowning matter of it.
Eau-douce, we shall have to carry the serjeant's brother over
Niagara, yet, to show him what may be done on a frontier!”
“The devil! Master Pathfinder, you must be joking, now!
Surely it is not possible for a bark canoe to go over that
mighty cataract!”
“You never were more mistaken, Master Cap, in your life.
Nothing is easier, and many is the canoe I have seen go over
it, with my own eyes, and, if we both live, I hope to satisfy
you that the feat can be done. For my part, I think the
largest ship that ever sailed on the ocean might be carried
over, could she once get into the rapids.”
Cap did not perceive the wink which Pathfinder exchanged
with Eau-douce, and he remained silent for some time; for,
sooth to say, he had never suspected the possibility of going
down Niagara, feasible as the thing must appear to every
one, on a second thought, the real difficulty existing in going
up it.
By this time, the party had reached the place where Jasper
had left his own canoe, concealed in the bushes, and they all
re-embarked; Cap, Jasper and his niece, in one boat, and Pathfinder,
Arrowhead, and the wife of the latter, in the other.
The Mohican had already passed down the banks of the
river by land, looking cautiously and with the skill of his
people for the signs of an enemy.
The cheek of Mabel did not recover all its bloom, until the
canoe was again in the current, down which it floated swiftly,
occasionally impelled by the paddle of Jasper. She witnessed
the descent of the falls, with a degree of terror that
had rendered her mute, but her fright had not been so great
as to prevent admiration of the steadiness of the youth, who
directed the movement, from blending with the passing terror.
In truth, one much less quick and sensitive might have had
her feelings awakened by the cool and gallant air with
which Eau-douce had accomplished this clever exploit. He
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had stood firmly erect, notwithstanding the plunge; and to
those who were on the shore, it was evident that by a timely
application of his skill and strength, the canoe had received a
sheer that alone carried it clear of a rock, over which the
boiling water was leaping in jets d'eau,—now leaving the
brown stone visible, and now covering it with a limpid sheet,
as if machinery controlled the play of the element. The
tongue cannot always express what the eyes view, but
Mabel saw enough, even in that moment of fear, to blend
for ever in her mind, the pictures presented by the plunging
canoe, and the unmoved steersman. She admitted that insidious
feeling which binds woman so strongly to man, by feeling
additional security in finding herself under his care, and for
the first time since leaving Fort Stanwix, she was entirely at
her ease in the frail bark in which she travelled. As the
other canoe kept quite near her own, however, and the Pathfinder,
by floating at her side, was most in view, the conversation
was principally maintained with that person; Jasper
seldom speaking unless addressed, and constantly exhibiting
a wariness in the management of his own boat, that might
have been remarked by one accustomed to his ordinary confident,
careless manner, had such an observer been present
to note what was passing.
“We know too well a woman's gifts, to think of carrying
the serjeant's daughter over the falls,” said Pathfinder, looking
at Mabel, while he addressed her uncle; “though I 've been
acquainted with some of her sex, in these regions, that would
think but little of doing the thing.”
“Mabel is faint-hearted, like her mother,” returned Cap,
“and you did well, friend, to humour her weakness. You
will remember the child has never been at sea.”
“No—no—it was easy to discover that, by your own
fearlessness—any one might have seen how little you cared
about the matter! I went over once with a raw-hand, and
he jumped out of the canoe, just as it tipped, and you may
judge what a time he had of it!”
“What became of the poor fellow?” asked Cap, scarce
knowing how to take the other's manner, which was so dry,
while it was so simple, that a less obtuse subject than the old
sailor might well have suspected its sincerity. “One who
has passed the place knows how to feel for him.”
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“He was a poor fellow, as you say; and a poor frontier
man, too, though he came out to show his skill among us
ignoranters. What became of him?—Why, he went down
the falls topsy-turvy like, as would have happened to a courthouse
or a fort.”
“If it should jump out of a canoe,” interrupted Jasper,
smiling, though he was evidently more disposed than his
friend to let the passage of the falls be forgotten.
“The boy is right,” rejoined Pathfinder, laughing in
Mabel's face, the canoes being now so near that they almost
touched; “he is sartainly right. But you have not
told us what you think of the leap we took?”
“It was perilous and bold,” said Mabel; “while looking
at it, I could have wished that it had not been attempted,
though, now it is over, I can admire its boldness, and the
steadiness with which it was made.”
“Now, do not think that we did this thing, to set ourselves
off in female eyes. It may be pleasant to the young to win
each other's good opinions, by doing things that may seem
praiseworthy and bold; but neither Eau-douce, nor myself,
is of that race. My natur,' though perhaps the Sarpent
would be a better witness, has few turns in it, and is a
straight natur'; nor would it be likely to lead me into a
vanity of this sort, while out on duty. As for Jasper, he
would sooner go over the Oswego falls, without a looker-on,
than do it before a hundred pair of eyes. I know the lad
well, from use and much consorting, and I am sure he is not
boastful or vain-glorious.”
Mabel rewarded the scout with a smile, that served to keep
the canoes together for some time longer, for the sight of
youth and beauty was so rare on that remote frontier, that
even the rebuked and self-mortified feelings of this wanderer
of the forest, were sensibly touched by the blooming loveliness
of the girl.
“We did it for the best,” Pathfinder continued; “'twas all
for the best. Had we waited to carry the canoe across the
portage, time would have been lost, and nothing is so precious
as time, when you are mistrustful of Mingos.”
“But we can have little to fear, now! The canoes move
swiftly, and two hours, you have said, will carry us down to
the fort.”
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“It shall be a cunning Iroquois who hurts a hair of your
head, pretty one, for all here are bound to the serjeant, and
most, I think, to yourself, to see you safe from harm. Ha!
Eau-douce; what is that in the river, at the lower turn, yonder,
beneath the bushes,—I mean standing on the rock?”
“'T is the Big Serpent, Pathfinder; he is making signs to
us, in a way I don't understand.”
“'T is the Sarpent, as sure as I 'm a white man, and he
wishes us to drop in nearer to his shore. Mischief is brewing,
or one of his deliberation and steadiness would never
take this trouble. Courage, all! we are men, and must meet
deviltry as becomes our colour, and our callings. Ah! I
never knew good come of boasting; and here, just as I was
vaunting of our safety, comes danger to give me the lie.”
n1* Lest the reader suppose we are dealing purely in fiction, the writer
will add that he has known a long thirty-two pounder carried over
these same falls in perfect safety.
CHAPTER IV.
“— Art, stryving to compare
With nature, did an arber greene dispred,
Framed of wanton yvie flowing fayre,
Through which the fragrant eglantines did spred.”
Spenser.
The Oswego, below the falls, is a more rapid, unequal
stream, than it is above them. There are places where the
river flows in the quiet stillness of deep water, but many
shoals and rapids occur; and, at that distant day, when every
thing was in its natural state, some of the passes were not
altogether without hazard. Very little exertion was required
on the part of those who managed the canoes, except in
those places where the swiftness of the current, and the presence
of the rocks required care; when, indeed, not only
vigilance, but great coolness, readiness and strength of arm
became necessary, in order to avoid the dangers. Of all
this the Mohican was aware, and he had judiciously selected
a spot, where the river flowed tranquilly, to intercept the
canoes, in order to make his communication without hazard
to those he wished to speak.
The Pathfinder had no sooner recognised the form of his
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red friend, than, with a strong sweep of his paddle, he threw
the head of his own canoe towards the shore, motioning for
Jasper to follow. In a minute both boats were silently drifting
down the stream, within reach of the bushes that overhung
the water, all observing a profound silence; some from
alarm, and others from habitual caution. As the travellers
drew nearer the Indian, he made a sign for them to stop;
and then he and Pathfinder had a short but earnest conference,
in the language of the Delawares.
“The chief is not apt to see enemies in a dead log,” observed
the white man, to his red associate; “why does he
tell us to stop?”
“Mingos are in the woods.”
“That, we have believed these two days: does the chief
know it?”
The Mohican quietly held up the head of a pipe, formed
of stone.
“It lay on a fresh trail that led towards the garrison”—
for so it was the usage of that frontier to term a military
work, whether it was occupied or not.
“That may be the bowl of a pipe belonging to a soldier.
Many use the red-skin pipes.”
“See,” said the Big Serpent, again holding the thing he
had found up to the view of his friend.
The bowl of the pipe was of soap-stone, and it had been
carved with great care, and with a very respectable degree
of skill. In its centre was a small Latin cross, made with
an accuracy that permitted no doubt of its meaning.
“That does foretell deviltry and wickedness,” said the
Pathfinder, who had all the provincial horror of the holy
symbol in question, that then pervaded the country, and
which became so incorporated with its prejudices, by confounding
men with things, as to have left its traces strong
enough on the moral feeling of the community, to be
discovered even at the present hour; “no Indian who had
not been parvarted by the cunning priests of the Canadas
would dream of carving a thing like that on his pipe! I 'll
warrant ye, the knave prays to the image every time he
wishes to sarcumvent the innocent, and work his fearful
wickedness. It looks fresh, too, Chingachgook?”
“The tobacco was burning when I found it.”
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“That is close work, chief — where was the trail?”
The Mohican pointed to a spot not a hundred yards distant
from that where they stood.
The matter now began to look very serious, and the two
principal guides conferred apart for several minutes, when
both ascended the bank, approached the indicated spot, and
examined the trail with the utmost care. After this investigation
had lasted a quarter of an hour, the white man returned
alone, his red friend having disappeared in the forest.
The ordinary expression of the countenance of the Pathfinder,
was that of simplicity, integrity, and sincerity, blended
in an air of self-reliance, that usually gave great confidence
to those who found themselves under his care; but now a
look of concern cast a shade over his honest face, that struck
the whole party.
“What cheer, Master Pathfinder?” demanded Cap, permitting
a voice that was usually deep, loud and confident,
to sink into the cautious tones that better suited the dangers
of the wilderness; “has the enemy got between us and our
port?”
“Anan?”
“Have any of these painted scaramouches anchored off
the harbour towards which we are running, with the hope of
cutting us off in entering?”
“It may be all as you say, friend Cap, but I am none the
wiser for your words; and, in ticklish times, the plainer a
man makes his English, the easier he is understood. I
know nothing of ports and anchors, but there is a direful
Mingo trail within a hundred yards of this very spot, and as
fresh as venison without salt. If one of the fiery devils has
passed, so have a dozen; and, what is worse, they have
gone down towards the garrison, and not a soul crosses the
clearing around it, that some of their piercing eyes will not
discover, when sartain bullets will follow.”
“Cannot this said fort deliver a broadside, and clear every
thing within the sweep of its hawse?”
“Nay, the forts this-a-way are not like forts in the settlements,
and two or three light cannon are all they have a
at the mouth of the river; and then, broadsides fired at a
dozen out-lying Mingos, lying behind logs, and in a forest
would be powder spent in vain. We have but one course,
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and that is a very nice one. We are judgematically placed
here, both canoes being hid by the high bank and the bushes,
from all eyes, except those of any lurker directly opposite.
Here, then, we may stay, without much present fear; but
how to get the blood-thirsty devils up the stream again?—
Ha—I have it—I have it—If it does no good, it can do no
harm. Do you see the wide-top chesnut, here, Jasper, at the
last turn in the river? On our own side of the stream, I
mean?”
“That near the fallen pine?”
“The very same. Take the flint and tinder-box, creep
along the bank, and light a fire at that spot: maybe the
smoke will draw them above us. In the meanwhile, we will
drop the canoes carefully down beyond the point below,
and find another shelter. Bushes are plenty, and covers are
easily to be had in this region, as witness the many ambushments.”
“I will do it, Pathfinder,” said Jasper, springing to the
shore. “In ten minutes the fire shall be lighted.”
“And, Eau-douce, use plenty of damp wood, this time,”
half whispered the other, laughing heartily, in his own peculiar
manner, — “when smoke is wanted, water helps to
thicken it.”
The young man, who too well understood his duty to delay
unnecessarily, was soon off, making his way rapidly
towards the desired point. A slight attempt of Mabel to object
to the risk was disregarded, and the party immediately
prepared to change its position, as it could be seen from the
place where Jasper intended to light his fire. The movement
did not require haste, and it was made leisurely, and
with care. The canoes were got clear of the bushes, then
suffered to drop down with the stream, until they reached the
spot where the chesnut, at the foot of which Jasper was to
light the fire, was almost shut out from view, when they
stopped, and every eye was turned in the direction of the
adventurers.
“There goes the smoke!” exclaimed the Pathfinder, as a
current of ar whirled a little column of the vapour from the
land, allowing it to rise spirally above the bed of the river.
“A good flint, a small bit of steel, and plenty of dry leaves,
make a quick fire! I hope Eau-douce will have the wit to
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bethink him of the damp wood, now, when it may serve us
all a good turn.”
“Too much smoke—too much cunning,” said Arrowhead,
sententiously.
“That is gospel truth, Tuscarora, if the Mingos didn't
know that they are near soldiers; but soldiers commonly
think more of their dinner, at a halt, than of their wisdom
and danger. No, no; let the boy pile on his logs, and smoke
them well too; it will all be laid to the stupidity of some
Scotch or Irish blunderer, who is thinking more of his oat-meal,
or his potatoes, than of Indian sarcumventions, or Indian
rifles.”
“And yet I should think, from all we have heard in the
towns, that the soldiers on this frontier are used to the artifices
of their enemies,” said Mabel; “and have got to be
almost as wily as the red-men themselves.”
“Not they—not they. Experience makes them but little
wiser; and they wheel, and platoon, and battalion it about,
here in the forest, just as they did in their parks at home, of
which they are all so fond of talking. One red-skin has
more cunning in his natur' than a whole regiment from the
other side of the water—that is, what I call cunning of the
woods. But there is smoke enough, of all conscience, and
we had better drop into another cover. The lad has thrown
the river on his fire, and there is danger that the Mingos will
believe a whole regiment is out.”
While speaking, the Pathfinder permitted his canoe to
drift away from the bush by which it had been retained, and
in a couple of minutes the bend in the river concealed the
smoke and the tree. Fortunately a small indentation in the
shore presented itself, within a few yards of the point they
had just passed; and the two canoes glided into it, under the
impulsion of the paddles.
A better spot could not have been found for the purpose
of the travellers, than the one they now occupied. The
bushes were thick, and overhung the water, forming a
complete canopy of leaves. There was a small gravelly
strand at the bottom of the little bay, where most of the party
landed to be more at their ease, and the only position from
which they could possibly be seen, was a point on the river
directly opposite. There was little danger, however, of
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discovery from that quarter, as the thicket there was even
denser than common, and the land beyond it was so wet and
marshy, as to render it difficult to be trodden.
“This is a safe cover,” said the Pathfinder, after he had
taken a scrutinizing survey of his position; “but it may be
necessary to make it safer. Master Cap, I ask nothing of
you but silence, and a quieting of such gifts as you may
have got at sea, while the Tuscarora and I make provision
for the evil hour.”
The guide then went a short distance into the bushes, accompanied
by the Indian, where the two cut off the larger
stems of several alders and other bushes, using the utmost
care not to make a noise. The ends of these little trees, for
such in fact they were, were forced into the mud, outside of
the canoes, the depth of the water being very trifling; and
in the course of ten minutes a very effectual screen was interposed
between them and the principal point of danger.
Much ingenuity and readiness were manifested in making this
simple arrangement, in which the two workmen were essentially
favoured by the natural formation of the bank, the indentation
in the shore, the shallowness of the water, and the
manner in which the tangled bushes dipped into the stream.
The Pathfinder had the address to look for bushes that had
curved stems, things easily found in such a place; and by cutting
them some distance beneath the bend, and permitting
the latter to touch the water, the artificial little thicket had
not the appearance of growing in the stream, which might
have excited suspicion; but, one passing it, would have
thought that the bushes shot out horizontally from the bank
before they inclined upwards towards the light. In short,
the shelter was so cunningly devised, and so artfully prepared,
that none but an unusually distrustful eye would have
been turned for an instant towards the spot, in quest of a
hiding-place.
“This is the best cover I ever yet got into,” said the Pathfinder,
with his quiet laugh, after having been on the outside
to reconnoitre; “the leaves of our new trees fairly touch
those of the bushes over our heads, and even the painter who
has been in the garrison, of late, could not tell which belong
to Providence, and which are ours. Hist!—yonder comes
Eau-douce, wading, like a sensible boy, as he is, to leave his
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trail, in the water; and we shall soon see whether our cover
is good for any thing or not.”
Jasper had, indeed, returned from his duty above, and
missing the canoes, he at once inferred that they had dropped
round the next bend in the river, in order to get out of sight
of the fire. His habits of caution immediately suggested the
expediency of stepping into the water, in order that there
might exist no visible communication between the marks left
on the shore, by the party, and the place where he believed
them to have taken refuge below. Should the Canadian Indians
return on their own trail, and discover that made by
the Pathfinder and the Serpent, in their ascent from, and descent
to, the river, the clue to their movements would cease
at the shore, water leaving no prints of footsteps. The young
man had, therefore, waded, knee-deep, as far as the point,
and was now seen making his way slowly down the margin
of the stream, searching curiously for the spot in which the
canoes were hid.
It was in the power of those behind the bushes, by placing
their eyes near the leaves, to find many places to look
through, while one at a little distance lost this advantage; or,
even did his sight happen to fall on some small opening, the
bank and the shadows beyond prevented him from detecting
forms and outlines of sufficient dimensions to expose the fugitives.
It was evident to those who watched his motions from
behind their cover, and they were all in the canoes, that Jasper
was totally at a loss to imagine where the Pathfinder had
secreted himself. When fairly round the curvature in the
shore, and out of sight of the fire he had lighted above, the
young man stopped and began examining the bank deliberately,
and with great care. Occasionally, he advanced eight
or ten paces, and then halted again, to renew the search.
The water being much shoaler than common, he stepped
aside, in order to walk with greater ease to himself, and came
so near the artificial plantation that he might have touched it
with his hand. Still he detected nothing, and was actually
passing the spot, when Pathfinder made an opening beneath
the branches, and called to him, in a low voice, to enter.
“This is pretty well,” said the Pathfinder, laughing; “though
pale-face eyes and red-skin eyes are as different as human
spy glasses. I would wager, with the serjeant's daughter,
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here, a horn of powder against a wampum-belt for her girdle,
that her father's rijiment should march by this embankment
of ours, and never find out the fraud! But, if the
Mingos actually get down into the bed of the river, where
Jasper passed, I should tremble for the plantation. It will
do, for their eyes, even across the stream, however, and will
not be without its use.”
“Don't you think, Master Pathfinder, that it would be
wisest, after all,” said Cap, “to get under way at once, and
carry sail hard down stream, as soon as we are satisfied
these rascals are fairly astern of us? We seamen call a
stern chase a long chase.”
“I wouldn't move from this spot, until we hear from the
Sarpent, with the serjeant's pretty daughter, here, in our company,
for all the powder in the magazine of the fort below!
Sartain captivity or sartain death would follow. If a tender
fa'n, such as the maiden we have in charge, could thread the
forest like old deer, it might, indeed, do to quit the canoes,
for by making a circuit, we could reach the garrison before
morning.”
“Then let it be done,” said Mabel, springing to her feet,
under the sudden impulse of awakened energy. “I am
young, active, used to exercise, and could easily out-walk
my dear uncle. Let no one think me a hindrance. I cannot
bear that all your lives should be exposed on my account.”
“No, no, pretty one; we think you anything but a hindrance,
or anything that is unbecoming, and would willingly
run twice this risk to do you and the honest serjeant a service.
Do I not speak your mind, Eau-douce?”
“To do her a service!” said Jasper, with emphasis. “Nothing
shall tempt me to desert Mabel Dunham, until she is
safe in her father's arms.”
“Well said, lad; bravely and honestly said, too; and I
join in it, heart and hand. No, no; you are not the first of
your sex I have led through the wilderness, and never but
once did any harm befal any of them,—that was a sad day,
certainly; but its like may never come again!”
Mabel looked from one of her protectors to the other, and
her fine eyes swam in tears. Frankly placing a hand in
that of each, she answered them, though at first her voice
was choked,—
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“I have no right to expose you on my account. My dear
father will thank you—I thank you—God will reward you—
but let there be no unnecessary risk. I can walk far, and
have often gone miles, on some girlish fancy; why not now
exert myself for my life—nay, for your precious lives?”
“She is a true dove, Jasper,” said the Pathfinder, neither
relinquishing the hand he held until the girl herself, in native
modesty, saw fit to withdraw it, “and wonderfully winning!
We get to be rough, and sometimes even hard-hearted, in the
woods, Mabel; but the sight of one like you brings us back
again to our young feelings, and does us good for the remainder
of our days. I dare say Jasper, here, will tell you the
same; for, like me in the forest, the lad sees but few such as
yourself, on Ontario, to soften his heart, and remind him of
love for his kind. Speak out, now, Jasper, and say if it is
not so.”
“I question if many like Mabel Dunham are to be found
anywhere,” returned the young man gallantly, an honest
sincerity glowing in his face, that spoke more eloquently than
his tongue; “you need not mention woods and lakes to
challenge her equals, but I would go into the settlements and
towns.”
“We had better leave the canoes,” Mabel hurriedly rejoined;
“for I feel it is no longer safe to be here.”
“You can never do it—you can never do it. It would be
a march of more than twenty miles, and that too of tramping
over brush and roots, and through swamps, in the dark; the
trail of such a party would be wide, and we might have to
fight our way into the garrison, after all. We will wait for
the Mohican.”
Such appearing to be the decision of him to whom all,
in their present strait, looked up for counsel, no more was
said on the subject. The whole party now broke up into
groups; Arrowhead and his wife sitting apart under the
bushes, conversing in a low tone, though the man spoke
sternly, and the woman answered with the subdued mildness
that marks the degraded condition of a savage's wife. Pathfinder
and Cap occupied one canoe, chatting of their different
adventures by sea and land, while Jasper and Mabel sat in
the other, making greater progress in intimacy in a single
hour, than might have been effected under other circumstances
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in a twelvemonth. Notwithstanding their situation as regards
the enemy, the time flew by swiftly, and the young people,
in particular, were astonished when Cap informed them how
long they had been thus occupied.
“If one could smoke, Master Pathfinder,” observed the
old sailor, “this berth would be snug enough; for, to give
the devil his due, you have got the canoes handsomely land-locked,
and into moorings that would defy a monsoon. The
only hardship is the denial of the pipe.”
“The scent of the tobacco would betray us, and where is
the use of taking all these precautions against the Mingos'
eyes, if we are to tell him where the cover is to be found
through the nose? No—no—deny your appetites; deny
your appetites, and learn one virtue from a red-skin, who
will pass a week without eating even, to get a single scalp.—
Did you hear nothing, Jasper?”
“The Serpent is coming.”
“Then let us see if Mohican eyes are better than them of
a lad who follows the water.”
The Mohican had indeed made his appearance in the same
direction as that by which Jasper had rejoined his friends.
Instead of coming directly on, however, no sooner did he
pass the bend, where he was concealed from any who might
be higher up stream, than he moved close under the bank, and,
using the utmost caution, got a position where he could look
back, with his person sufficiently concealed by the bushes to
prevent its being seen by any in that quarter.
“The Sarpent sees the knaves!” whispered Pathfinder—
“as I 'm a Christian white man they have bit at the bait, and
have ambushed the smoke!”
Here a hearty, but silent, laugh, interrupted his words, and
nudging Cap with his elbow, they all continued to watch the
movements of Chingachgook, in profound stillness. The
Mohican remained stationary as the rock on which he stood,
fully ten minutes; and then it was apparent that something
of interest had occurred within his view, for he drew back
with a hurried manner, looked anxiously and keenly along
the margin of the stream, and moved quickly down it, taking
care to lose his trail in the shallow water. He was evidently
in a hurry and concerned, now looking behind him, and then
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casting eager glances towards every spot on the shore, where
he thought a canoe might be concealed.
“Call him in,” whispered Jasper, scarce able to restrain
his impatience—“call him in, or it will be too late. See, he
is actually passing us.”
“Not so—not so, lad; nothing presses, depend on it,” returned
his companion, “or the Sarpent would begin to creep.
The Lord help us, and teach us wisdom! I do believe even
Chingachgook, whose sight is as faithful as the hound's
scent, overlooks us, and will not find out the ambushment
we have made!”
This exultation was untimely, for the words were no sooner
spoken, than the Indian, who had actually got several feet
lower down the stream than the artificial cover, suddenly
stopped, fastened a keen riveted glance among the transplanted
bushes, made a few hasty steps backward, and, bending
his body and carefully separating the branches, he appeared
among them.
“The accursed Mingos!” said Pathfinder, as soon as his
friend was near enough to be addressed with prudence.
“Iroquois;” returned the sententious Indian.
“No matter—no matter—Iroquois—devil—Mingo—Mengwes,
or furies—all are pretty much the same. I call all
rascals, Mingos. Come hither, chief, and let us convarse
rationally.”
The two then stepped aside, and conversed earnestly in
the dialect of the Delawares. When their private communication
was over, Pathfinder rejoined the rest, and made
them acquainted with all he had learned.
The Mohican had followed the trail of their enemies, some
distance towards the fort, until the latter caught a sight of
the smoke of Jasper's fire, when they instantly retraced their
steps. It now became necessary for Chingachgook, who
ran the greatest risk of detection, to find a cover where he
could secrete himself, until the party might pass. It was,
perhaps, fortunate for him, that the savages were so intent on
this recent discovery, that they did not bestow the ordinary
attention on the signs of the forest. At all events, they
passed him swiftly, fifteen in number, treading lightly in
each other's footsteps; and he was enabled again to get into
their rear. After proceeding to the place where the
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footsteps of Pathfinder and the Mohican had joined the principal
trail, the Iroquois had struck off to the river, which they
reached just as Jasper had disappeared behind the bend below.
The smoke being now in plain view, the savages plunged into
the woods, and endeavoured to approach the fire unseen.
Chingachgook profited by this occasion to descend to the
water, and to gain the bend in the river also, which he
thought had been effected undiscovered. Here he paused,
as has been stated, until he saw his enemies at the fire,
where their stay, however, was very short.
Of the motives of the Iroquois, the Mohican could judge
only by their acts. He thought they had detected the artifice
of the fire, and were aware that it had been kindled with
a view to mislead them; for, after a hasty examination of
the spot, they had separated, some plunging again into the
woods, while six or eight had followed the footsteps of Jasper
along the shore, and came down the stream towards the
place where the canoes had landed. What course they
might take on reaching that spot, was only to be conjectured,
for the Serpent had felt the emergency to be too pressing to
delay looking for his friends any longer. From some indications
that were to be gathered from their gestures, however,
he thought it probable that their enemies might follow
down in the margin of the stream, but could not be certain.
As the Pathfinder related these facts to his companions,
the professional feelings of the two other white men came
uppermost, and both naturally reverted to their habits, in
quest of the means of escape.
“Let us run out the canoes, at once,” said Jasper, eagerly;
“the current is strong, and by using the paddles vigorously
we shall soon be beyond the reach of these scoundrels!”
“And this poor flower, that first blossomed in the clearings—
shall it wither in the forest?” objected his friend, with
a poetry that he had unconsciously imbibed by his long association
with the Delawares.
“We must all die first,” answered the youth, a generous
colour mounting to his temples; “Mabel and Arrowhead's
wife may lie down in the canoes, while we do our duty, like
men, on our feet.”
“Ay, you are active at the paddle and the oar, Eau-douce,
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I will allow, but an accursed Mingo is more active, at his
mischief; the canoes are swift, but a rifle-bullet is swifter.'
“It is the business of men, engaged as we have been, by
a confiding father, to run this risk—”
“But it is not their business to overlook prudence.”
“Prudence! a man may carry his prudence so far as to
forget his courage.”
The group was standing on the narrow strand, the Pathfinder
leaning on his rifle, the butt of which rested on the
gravelly beach, while both his hands clasped the barrel, at
the height of his own shoulders. As Jasper threw out this
severe and unmerited imputation, the deep red of his comrade's
face maintained its hue unchanged, though the young
man perceived that the fingers grasped the iron of the gun
with the tenacity of a vice. Here all betrayal of emotion
ceased.
“You are young, and hot-headed,” returned Pathfinder,
with a dignity that impressed his listener with a keen sense
of his moral superiority; “but my life has been passed among
dangers of this sort, and my experience and gifts are not to
be mastered by the impatience of a boy. As for courage,
Jasper, I will not send back an angry and unmeaning word,
to meet an angry and an unmeaning word, for I know that
you are true, in your station and according to your knowledge;
but take the advice of one who faced the Mingos when
you were a child, and know that their cunning is easier sarcumvented
by prudence, than outwitted by foolishness.”
“I ask your pardon, Pathfinder,” said the repentant Jasper,
eagerly grasping the hand that the other permitted him to
seize; “I ask your pardon, humbly and sincerely. 'T was a
foolish, as well as wicked thing to hint of a man whose heart,
in a good cause, is known to be as firm as the rocks on the
lake shore.”
For the first time the colour deepened on the cheek of the
Pathfinder, and the solemn dignity that he had assumed,
under a purely natural impulse, disappeared in the expression
of the earnest simplicity, that was inherent in all his feelings.
He met the grasp of his young friend, with a squeeze as cordial
as if no chord had jarred between them, and a slight
sternness that had gathered about his eye disappeared in a
look of natural kindness.
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[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]
“'T is well, Jasper, 't is well,” he answered, laughing, “I
bear no ill-will, nor shall any one in my behalf. My natur'
is that of a white man, and that is to bear no malice. It
might have been ticklish work to have said half as much to
the Sarpent here, though he is a Delaware—for colour will
have its way—”
A touch on his shoulder caused the speaker to cease.
Mabel was standing erect in the canoe, her light, but swelling
form bent forward in an attitude of graceful earnestness, her
finger on her lips, her head averted, the spirited eyes riveted
on an opening in the bushes, and one arm extended with a
fishing-rod, the end of which had touched the Pathfinder.
The latter bowed his head to a level with a look-out, near
which he had intentionally kept himself, and then whispered
to Jasper—
“The accursed Mingos! Stand to your arms, my men,
but lay quiet as the corpses of dead trees!”
Jasper advanced rapidly, but noiselessly, to the canoe, and
with a gentle violence induced Mabel to place herself in such
an attitude as concealed her entire body, though it would have
probably exceeded his means to induce the girl so far to lower
her head that she could not keep her gaze fastened on their
enemies. He then took his own post near her, with his rifle
cocked and poised, in readiness to fire. Arrowhead and
Chingachgook crawled to the cover, and lay in wait like
snakes, with their arms prepared for service, while the wife
of the former bowed her head between her knees, covered it
with her calico robe, and remained passive and immovable.
Cap loosened both his pistols in their belt, but seemed quite
at a loss what course to pursue. The Pathfinder did not stir.
He had originally got a position where he might aim with
deadly effect through the leaves, and where he could watch the
movements of his enemies; and he was far too steady to be
disconcerted at a moment so critical.
It was truly an alarming instant. Just as Mabel touched
the shoulder of her guide, three of the Iroquois had appeared
in the water, at the bend of the river, within a hundred yards
of the cover, and halted to examine the stream below. They
were all naked to the waist, armed for an expedition against
their foes, and in their war-paint. It was apparent that they
were undecided as to the course they ought to pursue, in order
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to find the fugitives. One pointed down the river, a second
up the stream, and the third towards the opposite bank.
They evidently doubted.
CHAPTER V.
“Death is here, and death is there,
Death is busy every where.”
Shelley.
It was a breathless moment. The only clue the fugitives
possessed to the intentions of their pursuers, was in their gestures,
and the indications that escaped them in the fury of
disappointment. That a party had returned already, on their
own footsteps, by land, was pretty certain; and all the benefit
expected from the artifice of the fire was necessarily lost.
But that consideration became of little moment, just then, for
the party was menaced with an immediate discovery, by those
who had kept on a level with the river. All the facts presented
themselves clearly, and as it might be, by intuition, to
the mind of Pathfinder, who perceived the necessity of immediate
decision, and of being in readiness to act in concert.
Without making any noise, therefore, he managed to get the
two Indians and Jasper near him, when he opened his communications
in a whisper.
“We must be ready—we must be ready,” he said. “There
are but three of the scalping devils, and we are five, four of
whom may be set down as manful warriors for such a skrimmage.
Eau-douce, do you take the fellow that is painted
like death; Chingachgook, I give you the chief; and Arrowhead
must keep his eye on the young one. There must be
no mistake; for two bullets in the same body would be sinful
waste, with one like the serjeant's daughter in danger. I
shall hold myself in resarve against accident, lest a fourth
reptyle appear, for one of your hands may prove unsteady.
By no means fire until I give the word; we must not let the
crack of the rifle be heard except in the last resort, since all
the rest of the miscreants are still within hearing. Jasper,
boy, in case of any movement behind us, on the bank, I trust
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to you to run out the canoe, with the serjeant's daughter, and
to pull for the garrison, by God's leave.”
The Pathfinder had no sooner given these directions than
the near approach of their enemies, rendered profound silence
necessary. The Iroquois in the river were slowly descending
the stream, keeping of necessity near the bushes that overhung
the water, while the rustling of leaves and the snapping of
twigs soon gave fearful evidence that another party was moving
along the bank at an equally graduated pace, and directly
abreast of them. In consequence of the distance between
the bushes planted by the fugitives and the true shore, the
two parties became visible to each other, when opposite that
precise point. Both stopped, and a conversation ensued,
that may be said to have passed directly over the heads of
those who were concealed. Indeed nothing sheltered the
travellers, but the branches and leaves of plants so pliant,
that they yielded to every current of air, and which a puff of
wind, a little stronger than common, would have blown away.
Fortunately the line of sight, carried the eyes of the two parties
of savages, whether they stood in the water, or on the
land, above the bushes; and the leaves appeared blended in a
way to excite no suspicion. Perhaps the very boldness of
the expedient alone prevented an immediate exposure. The
conversation that took place was conducted earnestly, but in
guarded tones, as if those who spoke wished to defeat the
intentions of any listeners. It was in a dialect that both the
Indian warriors beneath, as well as the Pathfinder, understood.
Even Jasper comprehended a portion of what was
said.
“The trail is washed away by the water!” said one from
below, who stood so near the artificial cover of the fugitives,
that he might have been struck by the salmon-spear that lay
in the bottom of Jasper's canoe. “Water has washed it so
clear, that a Yengeese hound could not follow.”
“The pale-faces have left the shore, in their canoes,” answered
the speaker on the bank.
“It cannot be. The rifles of our warriors below, are
certain.”
The Pathfinder gave a significant glance at Jasper, and he
clenched his teeth in order to suppress the sound of his own
breathing.
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“Let my young men look as if their eyes were eagles',”
said the eldest warrior among those who were wading in the
river. “We have been a whole moon on the war-path, and
have found but one scalp. There is a maiden among them,
and some of our braves want wives.”
Happily these words were lost on Mabel, but Jasper's
frown became deeper, and his face fiercely flushed.
The savages now ceased speaking, and the party that was
concealed heard the slow and guarded movements of those
who were on the bank, as they pushed the bushes aside in
their wary progress. It was soon evident that the latter had
passed the cover; but the group in the water still remained,
scanning the shore, with eyes that glared through their war-paint,
like coals of living fire. After a pause of two or three
minutes, these three began also to descend the stream, though
it was step by step, as men move who look for an object that
has been lost. In this manner they passed the artificial
screen, and Pathfinder opened his mouth, in that hearty but
noiseless laugh, that nature and habit had contributed to render
a peculiarity of the man. His triumph, however, was
premature; for the last of the retiring party, just at this moment
casting a look behind him, suddenly stopped; and his
fixed attitude and steady gaze at once betrayed the appalling
fact that some neglected bush had awakened his suspicions.
It was, perhaps, fortunate for the concealed, that the warrior
who manifested these fearful signs of distrust was young,
and had still a reputation to acquire. He knew the importance
of discretion and modesty in one of his years, and
most of all did he dread the ridicule and contempt that would
certainly follow a false alarm. Without recalling any of his
companions, therefore, he turned on his own footsteps, and
while the others continued to descend the river, he cautiously
approached the bushes, on which his looks were still fastened,
as by a charm. Some of the leaves which were exposed to
the sun had drooped a little, and this slight departure from
the usual natural laws, had caught the quick eyes of the Indian;
for so practised and acute do the senses of the savage
become, more especially when he is on the war-path, that
trifles apparently of the most insignificant sort, often prove
to be clues to lead him to his object.
The trifling nature of the change which had aroused the
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suspicion of this youth, was an additional motive for not acquainting
his companions with his discovery. Should he
really detect anything, his glory would be the greater for
being unshared; and should he not, he might hope to escape
that derision which the young Indian so much dreads. Then
there were the dangers of an ambush and a surprise, to
which every warrior of the woods is keenly alive, to
render his approach slow and cautious. In consequence of
the delay that proceeded from these combined causes, the two
parties had descended some fifty or sixty yards before the
young savage was again near enough to the bushes of the
Pathfinder to touch them with his hand.
Notwithstanding their critical situation, the whole party
behind the cover had their eyes fastened on the working
countenance of the young Iroquois, who was agitated by
conflicting feelings. First came the eager hope of obtaining
success, where some of the most experienced of his tribe had
failed, and with it a degree of glory that had seldom fallen
to the share of one of his years, or a brave on his first warpath;
then followed doubts, as the drooping leaves seemed
to rise again, and to revive in the currents of air; and distrust
of hidden danger lent its exciting feeling to keep the
eloquent features in play. So very slight, however, had been
the alteration produced by the heat on bushes of which the
stems were in the water, that when the Iroquois actually laid
his hand on the leaves, he fancied that he had been deceived.
As no man ever distrusts strongly, without using all convenient
means of satisfying his doubts, however, the young
warrior cautiously pushed aside the branches, and advanced
a step within the hiding-place, when the forms of the concealed
party met his gaze, resembling so many breathless
statues. The low exclamation, the slight start, and the
glaring eye, were hardly seen and heard, before the arm of
Chingachgook was raised, and the tomahawk of the Delaware
descended on the shaven head of his foe. The Iroquois
raised his hands frantically, bounded backward, and fell into
the water, at a spot where the current swept the body away,
the struggling limbs still tossing and writhing in the agony
of death. The Delaware made a vigorous but unsuccessful
attempt to seize an arm, with the hope of securing the scalp;
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but the blood-stained waters whirled down the current, carrying
with them their quivering burthen.
All this passed in less than a minute; and the events were
so sudden and unexpected, that men less accustomed than
the Pathfinder and his associates to forest warfare, would
have been at a loss how to act.
“There is not a moment to lose,” said Jasper, tearing
aside the bushes, as he spoke earnestly, but in a suppressed
voice. “Do as I do, Master Cap, if you would save your
niece; and you, Mabel, lie at your length in the canoe.”
The words were scarcely uttered, when, seizing the bow
of the light boat, he dragged it along the shore, wading himself
while Cap aided behind, keeping so near the bank as to
avoid being seen by the savages below, and striving to gain
the turn in the river above him, which would effectually conceal
the party from the enemy. The Pathfinder's canoe lay
nearest to the bank, and it was necessarily the last to quit
the shore. The Delaware leaped on the narrow strand, and
plunged into the forest, it being his assigned duty to watch
the foe in that quarter, while Arrowhead motioned to his
white companion to seize the bow of the boat, and to follow
Jasper. All this was the work of an instant. But when the
Pathfinder reached the current, that was sweeping round the
turn, he felt a sudden change in the weight he was dragging,
and looking back he found that both the Tuscarora and his
wife had deserted him. The thought of treachery flashed
upon his mind, but there was no time to pause; for the wailing
shout that arose from the party below, proclaimed that
the body of the young Iroquois had floated as low as the
spot reached by his friends. The report of a rifle followed;
and then the guide saw that Jasper, having doubled the bend
in the river, was crossing the stream, standing erect, in the
stern of the canoe, while Cap was seated forward, both propelling
the light boat with vigorous strokes of the paddles. A
glance, a thought, and an expedient followed each other quickly,
in one so trained in the vicissitudes of the frontier warfare.
Springing into the stern of his own canoe, he urged it by a
vigorous shove into the current, and commenced crossing the
stream himself, at a point so much lower than that of his
companions, as to offer his own person for a target to the
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enemy, well knowing that their keen desire to secure a scalp
would control all other feelings.
“Keep well up the current, Jasper,” shouted the gallant
guide, as he swept the water with long, steady, vigorous
strokes of the paddle—“keep well up the current, and pull
for the alder bushes opposite. Presarve the serjeant's daughter,
before all things, and leave these Mingo knaves to the
Sarpent and me.”
Jasper flourished his paddle, as a signal of understanding,
while shot succeeded shot in quick succession, all now
being aimed at the solitary man in the nearest canoe.
“Ay, empty your rifles, like simpletons, as you are,” said
the Pathfinder, who had acquired a habit of speaking when
alone, from passing so much of his time in the solitude of
the forest; “empty your rifles, with an unsteady aim, and
give me time to put yard upon yard of river between us. I
will not revile you, like a Delaware, or a Mohican, for my
gifts are a white man's gifts, and not an Indian's; and boasting
in battle is no part of a Christian warrior; but I may say,
here, all alone by myself, that you are little better than so
many men from the town, shooting at robins in the orchards!
That was well meant,” throwing back his head, as a rifle-bullet
cut a lock of hair from his temple—“but the lead that
misses by an inch, is as useless as the lead that never quits
the barrel. Bravely done, Jasper! the serjeant's sweet child
must be saved, even if we go in without our own scalps.”
By this time the Pathfinder was in the centre of the river,
and almost abreast of his enemies, while the other canoe,
impelled by the vigorous arms of Cap and Jasper, had nearly
gained the opposite shore at the precise spot that had been
pointed out to them. The old mariner now played his part
manfully; for he was on his proper element, loved his niece
sincerely, had a proper regard for his own person, and was
not unused to fire, though his experience certainly lay in a
very different species of warfare. A few strokes of the paddles
were given, and the canoe shot into the bushes, Mabel
was hurried to land by Jasper, and, for the present, all three
of the fugitives were safe.
Not so with the Pathfinder. His hardy self-devotion had
brought him into a situation of unusual exposure, the hazards
of which were much increased, by the fact that just as he
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drifted nearest to the enemy, the party on the shore rushed
down the bank, and joined their friends who still stood in the
water. The Oswego was about a cable's length in width at
this point, and the canoe being in the centre, the object was
only a hundred yards from the rifles, that were constantly
discharged at it; or, at the usual target distance for that
weapon.
In this extremity the steadiness and skill of the Pathfinder
did him good service. He knew that his safety depended
altogether on keeping in motion; for a stationary object, at
that distance, would have been hit nearly every shot. Nor
was motion of itself sufficient; for, accustomed to kill the
bounding deer, his enemies probably knew how to vary the
line of aim so as to strike him, should he continue to move
in any one direction. He was consequently compelled to
change the course of the canoe, at one moment shooting
down with the current, with the swiftness of an arrow, and
at the next checking its progress in that direction, to glance
athwart the stream. Luckily the Iroquois could not reload
their pieces in the water, and the bushes that everywhere
fringed the shore, rendered it difficult to keep the fugitive in
view, when on the land. Aided by these circumstances, and
having received the fire of all his foes, the Pathfinder was
gaining fast in distance, both downwards and across the current,
when a new danger suddenly, if not unexpectedly, presented
itself, by the appearance of the party that had been
left in ambush below, with a view to watch the river.
These were the savages alluded to in the short dialogue
that has been already related. They were no less than ten in
number, and understanding all the advantages of their bloody
occupation, they had posted themselves at a spot where the
water dashed among rocks and over shallows, in a way to
form a rapid, which, in the language of the country, is called
a rift. The Pathfinder saw that if he entered this rift, he
should be compelled to approach a point where the Iroquois
had posted themselves, for the current was irresistible, and
the rocks allowed no other safe passage, while death or captivity
would be the probable result of the attempt. All his
efforts, therefore, were turned towards reaching the western
shore, the foe being all on the eastern side of the river. But
the exploit surpassed human power, and to attempt to stem
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the stream, would at once have so far diminished the motion
of the canoe, as to render aim certain. In this exigency the
guide came to a decision with his usual cool promptitude,
making his preparations accordingly. Instead of endeavouring
to gain the channel, he steered towards the shallowest
part of the stream, on reaching which, he seized his rifle and
pack, leaped into the water, and began to wade from rock to
rock, taking the direction of the western shore. The canoe
whirled about in the furious current, now rolling over some
slippery stone, now filling, and then emptying itself, until it
lodged on the shore, within a few yards of the spot where
the Iroquois had posted themselves.
In the meanwhile the Pathfinder was far from being out
of danger: for the first minute, admiration of his promptitude
and daring, which are so high virtues in the mind of an Indian,
kept his enemies motionless; but the desire of revenge,
and the cravings for the much-prized trophy, soon overcame
this transient feeling, and aroused them from their stupor.
Rifle flashed after rifle, and the bullets whistled around the
head of the fugitive, amid the roar of the waters. Still he
proceeded like one who bore a charmed life, for while his
rude frontier garments were more than once cut, his skin
was not razed.
As the Pathfinder, in several instances, was compelled to
wade in water that rose nearly to his arms, while he kept his
rifle and ammunition elevated above the raging current, the
toil soon fatigued him, and he was glad to stop at a large
stone, or a small rock, which rose so high above the river,
that its upper surface was dry. On this stone he placed his
powder-horn, getting behind it himself, so as to have the advantage
of a partial cover for his body. The western shore
was only fifty feet distant, but the quiet, swift, dark current
that glanced through the interval, sufficiently showed that
here he would be compelled to swim.
A short cessation in the firing now took place on the part
of the Indians, who gathered about the canoe, and, having
found the paddles, were preparing to cross the river.
“Pathfinder,” called a voice from among the bushes, at
the point nearest to the person addressed, on the western
shore.
“What would you have, Jasper?”
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“Be of good heart—friends are at hand, and not a single
Mingo shall cross without suffering for his boldness. Had
you not better leave the rifle on the rock, and swim to us
before the rascals can get afloat?”
“A true woodsman never quits his piece, while he has any
powder in his horn, or a bullet in his pouch. I have not
drawn a trigger this day, Eau-douce, and shouldn't relish the
idea of parting with those reptyles, without causing them to
remember my name. A little water will not harm my legs;
and I see that blackguard, Arrowhead, among the scamps,
and wish to send him the wages he has so faithfully earned.
You have not brought the serjeant's daughter down here in
a range with their bullets, I hope, Jasper!”
“She is safe, for the present at least; though all depends
on our keeping the river between us and the enemy. They
must know our weakness, now; and should they cross, no
doubt some of their party will be left on the other side.”
“This canoeing touches your gifts rather than mine, boy,
though I will handle a paddle with the best Mingo that ever
struck a salmon. If they cross below the rift, why can't we
cross in the still water above, and keep playing at dodge and
turn with the wolves?”
“Because, as I have said, they will leave a party on the
other shore—and then, Pathfinder, would you expose Mabel
to the rifles of the Iroquois?”
“The serjeant's daughter must be saved,” returned the
guide, with calm energy. “You are right, Jasper; she has
no gift to authorize her in offering her sweet face and tender
body to a Mingo rifle. What can be done then? They
must be kept from crossing for an hour or two, if possible,
when we must do our best in the darkness.”
“I agree with you, Pathfinder, if it can be effected; but
are we strong enough for such a purpose?”
“The Lord is with us, boy—the Lord is with us; and it
is unreasonable to suppose that one like the serjeant's daughter
will be altogether abandoned by Providence, in such a
strait. There is not a boat between the falls and the garrison,
except these two canoes, to my sartain knowledge; and
I think it will go beyond red-skin gifts to cross in the face
of two rifles, like these of yourn and mine. I will not vaunt,
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Jasper, but it is well known on all this frontier that Killdeer
seldom fails.”
“Your skill is admitted by all, far and near, Pathfinder;
but a rifle takes time to be loaded; nor are you on the land,
aided by a good cover, where you can work to the advantage
you are used to. If you had our canoe, might you not pass
to the shore with a dry rifle?”
“Can an eagle fly, Jasper?” returned the other, laughing,
in his usual manner, and looking back as he spoke. “But it
would be unwise to expose yourself on the water, for them
miscreants are beginning to bethink them again of powder
and bullets.”
“It can be done without any such chances. Master Cap
has gone up to the canoe, and will cast the branch of a tree
into the river to try the current, which sets from the point
above in the direction of your rock. See, there it comes
already; if it float fairly, you must raise your arm, when
the canoe will follow. At all events, if the boat should pass
you, the eddy below will bring it up, and I can recover it.”
While Jasper was still speaking, the floating branch came
in sight, and quickening its progress with the increasing
velocity of the current, it swept swiftly down towards the
Pathfinder, who seized it as it was passing, and held it in the
air, as a sign of success. Cap understood the signal, and
presently the canoe was launched into the stream, with a
caution and an intelligence that the habits of the mariner had
fitted him to observe. It floated in the same direction as the
branch, and in a minute was arrested by the Pathfinder.
“This has been done with a frontier man's judgment,
Jasper,” said the guide, laughing; “but you have your gifts,
which incline most to the water, as mine incline to the woods.
Now, let them Mingo knaves cock their rifles and get rests,
for this is the last chance they are likely to have at a man
without a cover.”
“Nay, shove the canoe towards the shore, quartering the
current, and throw yourself into it as it goes off,” said Jasper,
eagerly. “There is little use in running any risk.”
“I love to stand up face to face with my enemies like a
man, while they set me the example,” returned the Pathfinder,
proudly. “I am not a red-skin born, and it is more
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a white man's gifts to fight openly, than to lie in ambushment.”
“And Mabel?'
“True, boy, true—the serjeant's daughter must be saved;
and, as you say, foolish risks only become boys. Think
you that you can catch the canoe where you stand?”
“There can be no doubt, if you give a vigorous push.”
Pathfinder made the necessary effort, the light bark shot
across the intervening space, and Jasper seized it as it came
to land. To secure the canoe, and to take proper positions
in the cover, occupied the friends but a moment, when they
shook hands cordially, like those who had met after a long
separation.
“Now, Jasper, we shall see if a Mingo of them all dare
cross the Oswego in the teeth of Killdeer! You are handier
with the oar, and the paddle, and the sail, than with the rifle,
perhaps; but you have a stout heart, and a steady hand, and
them are things that count, in a fight.”
“Mabel will find me between her and her enemies,” said
Jasper, calmly.
“Yes, yes, the serjeant's daughter must be protected. I
like you, boy, on your own account, but I like you all the
better that you think of one so feeble, at a moment when
there is need of all your manhood. See, Jasper; three of
the knaves are actually getting into the canoe! They must
believe we have fled, or they would not surely venture so
much, directly in the very face of Killdeer!”
Sure enough, the Iroquois did appear bent on venturing
across the stream, for, as the Pathfinder and his friends now
kept their persons strictly concealed, their enemies began to
think that the latter had taken to flight. Such a course was
that which most white men would have followed; but Mabel
was under the care of those who were much too well skilled
in forest warfare, to neglect to defend the only pass, that, in
truth, now offered even a probable chance for protection.
As the Pathfinder had said, three warriors were in the
canoe, two holding their rifles at a poise, as they knelt in
readiness to aim the deadly weapons, and the other standing
erect in the stern to wield the paddle. In this manner they
left the shore, having had the precaution to haul the canoe,
previously to entering it, so far up the stream, as to have got
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into the comparatively still water above the rift. It was apparent,
at a glance, that the savage who guided the boat was
skilled in the art, for the long steady sweep of his paddle
sent the light bark over the glassy surface of the tranquil
river, as if it were a feather floating in air.
“Shall I fire?” demanded Jasper, in a whisper, trembling
with eagerness to engage.
“Not yet, boy; not yet. There are but three of them,
and if Master Cap, yonder, knows how to use the pop-guns
he carries in his belt, we may even let them land, and then
we shall recover the canoe.”
“But Mabel?—”
“No fear for the serjeant's daughter. She is safe, in the
hollow stump you say, with the opening judgematically hid
by the brambles. If what you tell me of the manner in
which you concealed the trail be true, the sweet-one might
lie there a month, and laugh at the Mingos.”
“We are never certain—I wish we had brought her nearer
to our own cover!”
“What for, Eau-douce?—To place her pretty little head
and leaping heart among flying bullets. No—no—she is
better where she is, because she is safer.”
“We are never certain—we thought ourselves safe, behind
the bushes, and yet you saw that we were discovered.”
“And the Mingo imp paid for his curiosity, as these
knaves are about to do—”
The Pathfinder ceased speaking, for at that instant, the
sharp report of a rifle was heard, when the Indian in the
stern of the canoe leaped high into the air, and fell into the
water holding the paddle in his hand. A small wreath of
smoke floated out from among the bushes of the eastern
shore, and was soon absorbed by the atmosphere.
“That is the Sarpent hissing!” exclaimed the Pathfinder,
exultingly. “A bolder or a truer heart never beat in the breast
of a Delaware. I am sorry that he interfered, but he could
not have known our condition—he could not have known our
condition.”
The canoe no sooner lost its guide, than it floated with the
stream, and was soon sucked into the rapids of the rift.
Perfectly helpless, the two remaining savages gazed wildly
about them, but could offer no resistance to the power of
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the element. It was, perhaps, fortunate for Chingachgook
that the attention of most of the Iroquois was intently given
to the situation of those in the boat, else would his escape
have been, to the least degree, difficult, if not totally impracticable.
But not a foe moved, except to conceal his person
behind some cover, and every eye was riveted on the two
remaining adventurers. In less time than has been necessary
to record these occurrences, the canoe was whirling
and tossing in the rift, while both the savages had stretched
themselves in its bottom, as the only means of preserving
the equilibrium. This natural expedient soon failed them,
for striking a rock, the light craft rolled over, and the two
warriors were thrown into the river. The water is seldom
deep on a rift, except in particular places, where it may have
worn channels, and there was little to be apprehended from
drowning, though their arms were lost, and the two savages
were fain to make the best of their way to the friendly shore,
swimming and wading as circumstances required. The canoe
itself lodged on a rock, in the centre of the stream, where,
for the moment, it became useless to both parties.
“Now is our time, Pathfinder,” cried Jasper, as the two
Iroquois exposed most of their persons while wading in the
shallowest part of the rapids—“The fellow up stream is
mine, and you can take the lower.”
So excited had the young man become, by all the incidents
of the stirring scene, that the bullet sped from his rifle as he
spoke, but uselessly as it would seem, for both the fugitives
tossed their arms in disdain. The Pathfinder did not fire.
“No—no—Eau-douce,” he answered — “I do not seek
blood without a cause, and my bullet is well leathered and
carefully driven down, for the time of need. I love no
Mingo, as is just, seeing how much I have consorted with the
Delawares, who are their mortal and natural enemies; but I
never pull trigger on one of the miscreants, unless it be plain
that his death will lead to some good end. The deer never
leaped that fell by my hand wantonly. By living much
alone with God in the wilderness, a man gets to feel the justice
of such opinions. One life is sufficient for our present
wants, and there may yet be occasion to use Killdeer in
behalf of the Sarpent, who has done an untimorsome thing to
let them rampant devils so plainly know that he is in their
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neighbourhood. As I'm a wicked sinner, there is one of
them prowling along the bank, this very moment, like one of
the boys of the garrison skulking behind a fallen tree to get
a shot at a squirrel!”
As the Pathfinder pointed with his finger, while speaking,
the quick eye of Jasper soon caught the object towards which
it was directed. One of the young warriors of the enemy,
burning with a desire to distinguish himself, had stolen from
his party towards the cover in which Chingachgook had concealed
himself; and as the latter was deceived by the apparent
apathy of his foes, as well as engaged in some further preparations
of his own, he had evidently obtained a position
where he got a sight of the Delaware. This circumstance
was apparent by the arrangements the Iroquois was making
to fire, for Chingachgook himself was not visible from the
western side of the river. The rift was at a bend in the
Oswego, and the sweep of the eastern shore formed a curve
so wide that Chingachgook was quite near to his enemies in
a straight direction, though separated by several hundred feet
on the land, owing to which fact, air lines brought both parties
nearly equidistant from the Pathfinder and Jasper. The
general width of the river being a little less than two hundred
yards, such necessarily was about the distance between his
two observers and the skulking Iroquois.
“The Sarpent must be thereabouts,” observed Pathfinder,
who never turned his eye for an instant from the young warrior;
“and yet he must be strangely off his guard to allow
a Mingo devil to get his stand so near, with manifest signs
of bloodshed in his heart.”
“See,” interrupted Jasper—“there is the body of the
Indian, the Delaware shot! It has drifted on a rock, and the
current has forced the head and face above the water.”
“Quite likely, boy; quite likely. Human natur' is little
better than a log of drift wood, when the life that was breathed
into its nostrils has departed. That Iroquois will never harm
any one more; but yonder skulking savage is bent on taking
the scalp of my best and most tried friend—”
The Pathfinder suddenly interrupted himself, by raising
his rifle, a weapon of unusual length, with admirable precision,
and firing the instant it had got its level. The Iroquois
on the opposite shore, was in the act of aiming when the fatal
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messenger from Killdeer arrived. His rifle was discharged,
it is true, but it was with the muzzle in the air, while the
man himself plunged into the bushes, quite evidently hurt,
if not slain.
“The skulking reptyle brought it on himself,” muttered
Pathfinder, sternly, as dropping the breech of his rifle, he
carefully commenced reloading it. “Chingachgook and I
have consorted together since we were boys, and have fou't
in company, on the Horican, the Mohawk, the Ontario, and
all the other bloody passes between the country of the
Frenchers and our own; and did the foolish knave believe
that I would stand by and see my best friend cut off in an
ambushment!”
“We have served the Serpent as good a turn as he served
us. Those rascals are troubled, Pathfinder, and are falling
back into their covers, since they find we can reach them
across the river.”
“The shot is no great matter, Jasper—no great matter.
Ask any of the 60th, and they can tell you, what Killdeer
can do, and has done, and that too when the bullets were
flying about our heads like hail-stone. No—no—this is no
great matter, and the unthoughtful vagabond drew it down
on himself.”
“Is that a dog, or a deer, swimming towards this shore?”
Pathfinder started, for, sure enough, an object was crossing
the stream, above the rift, towards which, however, it was
gradually setting by the force of the current. A second look
satisfied both the observers that it was a man, and an Indian,
though so concealed as, at first, to render it doubtful. Some
stratagem was apprehended, and the closest attention was
given to the movements of the stranger.
“He is pushing something before him, as he swims, and
his head resembles a drifting bush!” said Jasper.
“'T is Indian deviltry, boy; but Christian honesty shall
sarcumvent their arts.”
As the man slowly approached, the observers began to
doubt the accuracy of their first impressions, and it was only
when two-thirds of the stream was passed, that the truth was
really known.
“The Big Sarpent, as I live!” exclaimed Pathfinder, looking
at his companion, and laughing until the tears came into
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his eyes, with pure delight at the success of the artifice.
“He has tied bushes to his head, so as to hide it, put the
horn on top, lashed the rifle to that bit of log he is pushing
before him, and has come over to join his friends. Ahs! me.
The times, and times, that he and I have cut such pranks,
right in the teeth of Mingos raging for our blood, in the great
thoroughfare round and about Ty!”
“It may not be the Serpent, after all, Pathfinder—I can
see no feature that I remember.”
“Feature! Who looks for features in an Indian?—No—
no—boy; 't is the paint that speaks,—and none but a Delaware
would wear that paint. Them are his colours, Jasper,
just as your craft on the lake wears St. George's Cross, and
the Frenchers set their table-cloths to fluttering in the wind,
with all the stains of fish-bones and venison steaks upon
them. Now, you see the eye, lad, and it is the eye of a
chief. But, Eau-douce, fierce as it is in battle, and glassy as
it looks from among the leaves—” Here the Pathfinder laid
his finger lightly but impressively on his companion's arm,—
“I have seen it shed tears like rain. There is a soul and
a heart under that red skin, rely on it; although they are a
soul and a heart with gifts different from our own.”
“No one, who is acquainted with the chief, ever doubted
that.”
“I know it,” returned the other, proudly, “for I have
consorted with him in sorrow and in joy; in one I have
found him a man, however stricken; in the other, a chief
who knows that the women of his tribe are the most seemly
in light merriment. But, hist! It is too much like the people
of the settlements to pour soft speeches into another's ear;
and the Sarpent has keen senses. He knows I love him, and
that I speak well of him behind his back; but a Delaware
has modesty in his inmost natur', though he will brag like a
sinner when tied to a stake.”
The Serpent now reached the shore, directly in the front
of his two comrades, with whose precise position he must
have been acquainted, before leaving the eastern side of the
river, and rising from the water he shook himself like a dog,
and made the usual exclamation—
“Hugh!”
-- 082 --
CHAPTER VI.
“These, as they change, Almighty Father, these
Are but the varied God.”
Thomson.
[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]
As the chief landed he was met by the Pathfinder, who
addressed him in the language of the warrior's people.
“Was it well done, Chingachgook,” he said, reproachfully,
“to ambush a dozen Mingos, alone! Killdeer seldom fails
me, it is true; but the Oswego makes a distant mark, and
that miscreant showed little more than his head and shoulders
above the bushes, and an onpractysed hand and eye
might have failed. You should have thought of this, chief;
you should have thought of this!”
“The great Serpent is a Mohican warrior—he sees only
his enemies, when he is on the war-path, and his fathers have
struck the Mingos from behind, since the waters began to
run!”
“I know your gifts—I know your gifts, and respect them,
too. No man shall hear me complain that a red-skin obsarved
red-skin natur', but prudence as much becomes a
warrior as valour; and had not the Iroquois devils been
looking after their friends who were in the water, a hot trail
they would have made of yourn!”
“What is the Delaware about to do?” exclaimed Jasper,
who observed, at that moment, that the chief had suddenly
left the Pathfinder, and advanced to the water's edge, apparently
with an intention of again entering the river. “He
will not be so mad as to return to the other shore, for any
trifle he may have forgotten!”
“Not he—not he; he is as prudent as he is brave, in the
main, though so forgetful of himself in the late ambushment.
Harkee, Jasper,” leading the other a little aside, just as they
heard the Indian's plunge into the water—“harkee, lad;
Chingachgook is not a Christian white man, like ourselves,
but a Mohican chief, who has his gifts and traditions to tell him
what he ought to do; and he who consorts with them that are
not strictly and altogether of his own kind, had better leave
natur' and use to govern his comrades. A king's soldier
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will swear, and he will drink, and it is of little use to try to
prevent him; a gentleman likes his delicacies, and a lady
her feathers, and it does not avail much to struggle against
either; whereas an Indian's natur' and gifts are much stronger
than these, and no doubt were bestowed by the Lord for
wise ends, though neither you nor me can follow them in all
their windings.”
“What does this mean?—See, the Delaware is swimming
towards the body that is lodged on the rock. Why does he
risk this?”
“For honour, and glory, and renown, as great gentlemen
quit their quiet homes, beyond seas, where, as they tell me,
heart has nothing left to wish for, that is, such hearts as can
be satisfied in a clearing, to come hither to live on game and
fight the Frenchers.”
“I understand you—your friend has gone to secure the
scalp.”
“'T is his gift, and let him enjoy it. We are white men,
and cannot mangle a dead enemy, but it is honour in the
eyes of a red-skin to do so. It may seem singular to you,
Eau-douce, but I've known white men of great name and
character manifest as remarkable idees concerning their
honour, I have.”
“A savage will be a savage, Pathfinder, let him keep what
company he may.”
“It is well for us to say so, lad, but, as I tell you, white
honour will not always conform to reason, or to the will of
God. I have passed days thinking of these matters, out in
the silent woods, and I have come to the opinion, boy, that,
as Providence rules all things, no gift is bestowed without
some wise and reasonable end. If Indians are of no use,
Indians would not have been created, and I do suppose, could
one dive to the bottom of things, it would be found that even
the Mingo tribes were produced for some rational and proper
purpose, though I confess it surpasses my means to say what
it is.”
“The Serpent greatly exposes himself to the enemy, in
order to get his scalp! This may lose us the day.”
“Not in his mind, Jasper. That one scalp has more
honour in it, according to the Sarpent's notions of warfare,
than a field covered with slain, that kept the hair on their
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heads. Now, there was the fine young captain of the 60th
that threw away his life, in trying to bring off a three-pounder
from among the Frenchers, in the last skrimmage we had;
he thought he was sarving honour; and I have known a
young ensign wrap himself up in his colours, and go to sleep
in his blood, fancying that he was lying on something softer
even than buffalo-skins!”
“Yes, yes; one can understand the merit of not hauling
down an ensign.”
“And these are Chingachgook's colours—he will keep
them to show his children's children—” here the Pathfinder
interrupted himself, shook his head in melancholy, and slowly
added—“Ahs me! no shoot of the old Mohican stem remains!
He has no children to delight with his trophies; no tribe to
honour by his deeds; he is a lone man in this world, and
yet he stands true to his training and his gifts! There is
something honest and respectable in these, you must allow,
Jasper; yes, there is something decent in that.”
Here a great outcry from among the Iroquois, was succeeded
by the quick reports of their rifles, and so eager did
the enemy become, in the desire to drive the Delaware back
from his victim, that a dozen rushed into the river, several of
whom even advanced near a hundred feet into the foaming
current, as if they actually meditated a serious sortie. But
Chingachgook continued as unmoved, as he remained unhurt
by the missiles, accomplishing his task with the dexterity of
long habit. Flourishing his reeking trophy, he gave the war
whoop in its most frightful intonations, and for a minute the
arches of the silent woods, and the deep vista formed by the
course of the river, echoed with cries so terrific that Mabel
bowed her head, in irrepressible fear, while her uncle for a
single instant, actually meditated flight.
“This surpasses all I have heard from the wretches,”
Jasper exclaimed, stopping his ears, equally in horror and
disgust.
“T is their music, boy; their drum and fife; their trumpets
and clarions. No doubt they love those sounds, for they
stir up in them fierce feelings, and a desire for blood,” returned
the Pathfinder, totally unmoved. “I thought them
rather frightful when a mere youngster, but they have got
to be like the whistle of the whip-poor-will, or the song of the
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cat-bird in my ear now. All the screeching reptyles that
could stand between the Falls and the garrison, would have
no effect on my narves, at this time of day. I say it not in
boasting, Jasper, for the man that lets in cowardice through
the ears, must have but a weak heart, at the best; sounds
and outcries being more intended to alarm women and children,
than such as scout the forest, and face the foe. I hope
the Sarpent is now satisfied, for here he comes with the scalp
at his belt.”
Jasper turned away his head as the Delaware rose from
the water, in pure disgust at his late errand, but the Pathfinder
regarded his friend with the philosophical indifference
of one who had made up his mind to be indifferent to things
he deemed immaterial. As the Delaware passed deeper into
the bushes, with a view to wring his trifling calico dress, and
to prepare his rifle for service, he gave one glance of triumph
at his companions, and then all emotion connected with the
recent exploit seemed to cease.
“Jasper,” resumed the guide—“step down to the station
of Master Cap, and ask him to join us: we have little time for
a council, and yet our plans must be laid quickly, for it will
not be long before them Mingos will be plotting our ruin.”
The young man complied, and in a few minutes the four
were assembled near the shore, completely concealed from
the view of their enemies, while they kept a vigilant watch over
the proceedings of the latter, in order to consult on their own
future movements.
By this time, the day had so far advanced, as to leave but a
few minutes between the passing light and an obscurity that promised
to be even deeper than common. The sun had already
set, and the twilight of a low latitude would soon pass into the
darkness of deep night. Most of the hopes of the party rested
on this favourable circumstance, though it was not without its
dangers, also, as the very obscurity which would favour their
escape would be as likely to conceal the movements of their
wily enemies.
“The moment has come, men,” Pathfinder commenced,
“when our plans must be coolly laid, in order that we may
act together, and with a right understanding of our errand
and gifts. In an hour's time, these woods will be as dark as
midnight, and if we are ever to gain the garrison, it must be
-- 086 --
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done under favour of this advantage. What say you, Master
Cap, for though none of the most experienced in combats and
retreats in the woods, your years entitle you to speak first, in
a matter like this, and in a council.”
“And my near relationship to Mabel, Pathfinder, ought to
count for something—”
“I don't know that—I don't know that. Regard is regard,
and liking, liking, whether it be a gift of natur', or come from
one's own judgment and inclinations. I will say nothing for
the Sarpent, who is past placing his mind on the women, but
as for Jasper and myself, we are as ready to stand between
the serjeant's daughter and the Mingos as her own brave father
himself, could be. Do I say more than the truth, lad?”
“Mabel may count on me to the last drop of my blood,”
said Jasper, speaking low, but speaking with intense feeling.
“Well, well,” rejoined the uncle, “we will not discuss
this matter, as all seem willing to serve the girl, and deeds
are better than words. In my judgment, all we have to do,
is to go on board the canoe, when it gets to be so dark the
enemy's look-outs can't see us, and run for the haven, as
wind and tide will allow.”
“That is easily said, but not so easily done,” returned the
guide. “We shall be more exposed in the river than by
following the woods, and then there is the Oswego rift below
us, and I am far from sartain that Jasper himself can carry
a boat safely through it, in the dark. What say you, lad, as
to your own skill and judgment?”
“I am of Master Cap's opinion about using the canoe.
Mabel is too tender to walk through swamps, and among
roots of trees, in such a night as this promises to be, and
then I always feel myself stouter of heart, and truer of eye,
when afloat than when ashore.”
“Stout of heart, you always be, lad, and I think tolerably
true of eye for one who has lived so much in broad sunshine,
and so little in the woods. Ahs me! the Ontario has no
trees, or it would be a plain to delight a hunter's heart! As
to your opinion, friends, there is much for, and much against
it. For it, it may be said water leaves no trail—”
“What do you call the wake?” interrupted the pertinacious
and dogmatical Cap.
“Anan?”
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“Go on,” said Jasper; “Master Cap thinks he is on the
ocean—water leaves no trail—”
“It leaves none, Eau-douce, hereaway, though I do not
pretend to say what it may leave on the sea. Then a
canoe is both swift and easy, when it floats with the current,
and the tender limbs of the serjeant's daughter will be favoured
by its motion. But, on the other hand, the river will have
no cover but the clouds in the heavens, the rift is a ticklish
thing for boats to venture into, even by day-light, and it is six
fairly measured miles, by water, from this spot to the garrison.
Then a trail on land is not easy to be found in the
dark. I am troubled, Jasper, to say which way we ought to
counsel and advise.”
“If the Serpent and myself could swim into the river,
and bring off the other canoe,” the young sailor replied, “it
would seem to me, that our safest course would be the water.”
“If, indeed! and yet it might easily be done, as soon as
it is a little darker. Well, well, considering the serjeant's
daughter, and her gifts, I am not sartain it will not be the
best. Though were we only a party of men, it would be
like a hunt to the lusty and brave, to play at hide-and-seek
with yonder miscreants, on the other shore. Jasper,” continued
the guide, into whose character there entered no ingredient
that belonged to vain display, or theatrical effect, “will
you undertake to bring in the canoe?”
“I will undertake anything that will serve and protect
Mabel, Pathfinder.”
“That is an upright feeling, and I suppose it is natur'.
The Sarpent, who is nearly naked already, can help you, and
this will be cutting off one of the means of them devils to
work their harm.”
This material point being settled, the different members of
the party prepared themselves to put the project in execution.
The shades of evening fell fast upon the forest, and by the
time all was ready for the attempt, it was found impossible to
discern objects on the opposite shore. Time now pressed,
for Indian cunning could devise so many expedients for passing
so narrow a stream, that the Pathfinder was getting
impatient to quit the spot. While Jasper and his companion
entered the river, armed with nothing but their knives
and the Delaware's tomahawk, observing the greatest caution
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not to betray their movements, the guide brought Mabel from
her place of concealment, and bidding her and Cap proceed
along the shore to the foot of the rapids, he got into the canoe,
that remained in his possession, in order to carry it to the
same place.
This was easily effected. The canoe was laid against the
bank, and Mabel and her uncle entered it, taking their seats
as usual; while the Pathfinder, erect in the stern, held by a
bush, in order to prevent the swift stream from sweeping
them down its current. Several minutes of intense and
breathless expectation followed, while they awaited the result
of the bold attempt of their comrades.
It will be understood that the two adventurers were compelled
to swim across a deep and rapid channel, ere they
could reach a part of the rift that admitted of wading. This
portion of the enterprise was soon effected; and Jasper and
the Serpent struck the bottom, side by side, at the same instant.
Having secured firm footing, they took hold of each
other's hands, and waded slowly and with extreme caution,
in the supposed direction of the canoe. But the darkness
was already so deep, that they soon ascertained they were to
be but little aided by the sense of sight, and that their search
must be conducted on that species of instinct which enables
the woodsman to find his way, when the sun is hid, no stars
appear, and all would seem chaos to one less accustomed
to the mazes of the forest. Under these circumstances, Jasper
submitted to be guided by the Delaware, whose habits best
fitted him to take the lead. Still it was no easy matter to
wade amid the roaring element at that hour, and retain a
clear recollection of the localities. By the time they believed
themselves to be in the centre of the stream, the two
shores were discernible merely by masses of obscurity denser
than common, the outlines against the clouds being barely
distinguishable by the ragged tops of the trees. Once or
twice the wanderers altered their course, in consequence of
unexpectedly stepping into deep water, for they knew that
the boat had lodged on the shallowest part of the rift. In short,
with this fact for their compass, Jasper and his companion
wandered about in the water, for near a quarter of an hour,
and at the end of that period, which began to appear interminable
to the young man, they found themselves apparently
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no nearer the object of their search than they had been at its
commencement. Just as the Delaware was about to stop,
in order to inform his associate that they would do well to
return to the land, in order to take a fresh departure, he saw
the form of a man, moving about in the water, almost within
reach of his arm. Jasper was at his side, and he at once
understood that the Iroquois were engaged on the same errand
as he was himself.
“Mingo!” he uttered in Jasper's ear—“the Serpent will
show his brother how to be cunning.”
The young sailor caught a glimpse of the figure at that
instant, and the startling truth also flashed on his mind. Understanding
the necessity of trusting all to the Delaware chief,
he kept back, while his friend moved cautiously in the direction
in which the strange form had vanished. In another
moment, it was seen again, evidently moving towards themselves.
The waters made such an uproar, that little was to
be apprehended from ordinary sounds, and the Indian, turning
his head, hastily said—
“Leave it to the cunning of the great Serpent.”
“Hugh!” exclaimed the strange savage, adding, in the
language of his people—“the canoe is found, but there were
none to help me. Come; let us raise it from the rock.”
“Willingly;” answered Chingachgook, who understood the
dialect—“lead; we will follow.”
The stranger, unable to distinguish between voices and accents,
amid the raging of the rapid, led the way in the necessary
direction, and, the two others keeping close at his
heels, all three speedily reached the canoe. The Iroquois
laid hold of one end, Chingachgook placed himself in the
centre, and Jasper went to the opposite extremity, as it was
important that the stranger should not detect the presence of
a pale-face, a discovery that might be made, by the parts of
the dress the young man still wore, as well as by the general
appearance of his head.
“Lift,” said the Iroquois, in the sententious manner of his
race; and by a trifling effort the canoe was raised from the
rock, held a moment in the air to empty it, and then placed
carefully on the water, in its proper position. All three held
it firmly, lest it should escape from their hands, under the
pressure of the violent current, while the Iroquois, who led
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[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]
of course, being at the upper end of the boat, took the direction
of the eastern shore, or towards the spot where his
friends waited his return.
As the Delaware and Jasper well knew there must be
several more of the Iroquois on the rift, from the circumstance
that their own appearance had occasioned no surprise
in the individual they had met, both felt the necessity of extreme
caution. Men less bold and determined would have
thought that they were incurring too great a risk, by thus
venturing into the midst of their enemies; but these hardy
borderers were unacquainted with fear, were accustomed to
hazards, and so well understood the necessity of at least
preventing their foes from getting the boat, that they would
have cheerfully encountered even greater risks to secure their
object. So all-important to the safety of Mabel, indeed, did
Jasper deem the possession, or the destruction of this canoe,
that he had drawn his knife, and stood ready to rip up the
bark, in order to render the boat temporarily unserviceable,
should any thing occur to compel the Delaware and himself
to abandon their prize.
In the mean time, the Iroquois, who led the way, proceeded
slowly through the water, in the direction of his own party,
still grasping the canoe, and dragging his reluctant followers
in his train. Once, Chingachgook raised his tomahawk
and was about to bury it in the brain of his confiding and
unsuspicious neighbour, but the probability that the death-cry
or the floating body might give the alarm, induced that wary
chief to change his purpose. At the next moment he regretted
this indecision, for the three who clung to the canoe suddenly
found themselves in the centre of a party of no less
than four others who were in quest of it.
After the usual brief, characteristic exclamations of satisfaction,
the savages eagerly laid hold of the canoe, for all
seemed impressed with the necessity of securing this important
boat, the one side in order to assail their foes, and the
other to secure their retreat. The addition to the party, however,
was so unlooked-for, and so completely gave the enemy
the superiority, that, for a few moments, the ingenuity and address
of even the Delaware were at fault. The five Iroquois,
who seemed perfectly to understand their errand, pressed
forward towards their own shore, without pausing to
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[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]
converse; their object being in truth to obtain the paddles, which
they had previously secured, and to embark three or four
warriors, with all their rifles and powder-horns, the want of
which had alone prevented their crossing the river, by swimming,
as soon as it was dark.
In this manner, the body of friends and foes united reached
the margin of the eastern channel, where, as in the case
of the western, the river was too deep to be waded. Here a
short pause succeeded, it being necessary to determine the
manner in which the canoe was to be carried across. One
of the four who had just reached the boat, was a chief, and
the habitual deference which the American Indian pays to
merit, experience and station, kept the others silent, until this
individual had spoken.
The halt greatly added to the danger of discovering the
presence of Jasper, in particular, who however had the precaution
to throw the cap he wore, into the bottom of the canoe.
Being without his jacket and shirt, the outline of his figure,
in the obscurity, would now be less likely to attract observation.
His position, too, at the stern of the canoe, a little
favoured his concealment, the Iroquois naturally keeping
their looks directed the other way. Not so with Chingachgook.
This warrior was literally in the midst of his most
deadly foes, and he could scarcely move without touching
one of them. Yet he was apparently unmoved, though he
kept all his senses on the alert, in readiness to escape, or to
strike a blow, at the proper moment. By carefully abstaining
from looking towards those behind him, he lessened the
chances of discovery, and waited with the indomitable patience
of an Indian for the instant when he should be required
to act.
“Let all my young men, but two, one at each end of the
canoe, cross and get their arms,” said the Iroquois chief.—
“Let the two push over the boat.”
The Indians quietly obeyed, leaving Jasper at the stern,
and the Iroquois who had found the canoe, at the bow of the
light craft, Chingachgook burying himself so deep in the
river, as to be passed by the others without detection. The
splashing in the water, the tossing arms and the calls of one
to another, soon announced that the four who had last joined
the party, were already swimming. As soon as this fact was
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certain, the Delaware rose, resumed his former station, and
began to think the moment for action was come.
One less habitually under self-restraint, than this warrior,
would probably have now aimed his meditated blow; but
Chingachgook knew there were more Iroquois behind him
on the rift, and he was a warrior much too trained and experienced
to risk anything unnecessarily. He suffered the Indian
at the bow of the canoe to push off into the deep water,
and then all three were swimming in the direction of the
eastern shore. Instead, however, of helping the canoe across
the swift current, no sooner did the Delaware and Jasper find
themselves within the influence of its greatest force, than
both began to swim in a way to check their further progress
across the stream. Nor was this done suddenly, or in the
incautious manner in which a civilized man would have been
apt to attempt the artifice, but warily, and so gradually that
the Iroquois at the bow fancied at first he was merely struggling
against the strength of the current. Of course, while
acted on by these opposing efforts, the canoe drifted down
stream, and in about a minute it was floating in still deeper
water at the foot of the rift. Here, however, the Iroquois
was not slow in finding that something unusual retarded their
advance, and looking back he first learned that he was resisted
by the efforts of his companions.
That second nature, which grows up through habit, instantly
told the young Iroquois that he was alone with enemies.
Dashing the water aside, he sprang at the throat of
Chingachgook, and the two Indians, relinquishing their hold
of the canoe, seized each other like tigers. In the midst of
the darkness of that gloomy night, and floating in an element
so dangerous to man, when engaged in deadly strife, they
appeared to forget every thing but their fell animosity, and
their mutual desire to conquer.
Jasper had now complete command of the canoe, which
flew off like a feather impelled by the breath, under the violent
reaction of the struggles of the two combatants. The
first impulse of the youth was to swim to the aid of the Delaware,
but the importance of securing the boat presented itself
with ten-fold force, while he listened to the heavy breathings
of the warriors as they throttled each other, and he proceeded
as fast as possible towards the western shore. This he soon
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reached, and after a short search, he succeeded in discovering
the remainder of the party, and in procuring his clothes.
A few words sufficed to explain the situation in which he had
left the Delaware, and the manner in which the canoe had
been obtained.
When those who had been left behind had heard the explanations
of Jasper, a profound stillness reigned among them,
each listening intently, in the vain hope of catching some clue
to the result of the fearful struggle that had just taken place,
if it were not still going on in the water. Nothing was audible
beyond the steady roar of the rushing river; it being a
part of the policy of their enemies on the opposite shore, to
observe the most death-like stillness.
“Take this paddle, Jasper,” said Pathfinder, calmly, though
the listeners thought his voice sounded more melancholy than
usual; “and follow with your own canoe.—It is unsafe for
us to remain here longer.”
“But the Serpent?”
“The Great Sarpent is in the hands of his own Deity, and
will live or die, according to the intentions of Providence.
We can do him no good, and may risk too much by remaining
here in idleness, like women talking over their distresses.
This darkness is very precious—”
A loud, long, piercing yell came from the shore, and cut
short the words of the guide.
“What is the meaning of that uproar, Master Pathfinder?”—
demanded Cap. “It sounds more like the outcries
of devils than anything that can come from the throats
of Christians and men.”
“Christians they are not, and do not pretend to be, and do
not wish to be; and in calling them devils, you have scarcely
misnamed them. That yell is one of rejoicing, and it is as
conquerors they have given it. The body of the Sarpent,
no doubt, dead or alive, is in their power!”
“And we!”—exclaimed Jasper, who felt a pang of generous
regret, as the idea that he might have averted the
calamity presented itself to his mind, had he not deserted his
comrade.
“We can do the chief no good, lad, and must quit this
spot as fast as possible.”
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“Without one attempt to rescue him!—without even knowing
whether he be dead or living?”
“Jasper is right,” said Mabel, who could speak, though
her voice sounded huskily and smothered; “I have no fears,
uncle, and will stay here until we know what has become of
our friend.”
“This seems reasonable, Pathfinder,” put in Cap. “Your
true seaman cannot well desert a messmate; and I am glad
to find that motives so correct exist among those fresh-water
people.”
“Tut — tut —” returned the impatient guide, forcing the
canoe into the stream as he spoke, “ye know nothing, and
ye fear nothing. If ye value your lives, think of reaching
the garrison, and leave the Delaware in the hands of Providence.
Ahs me! The deer that goes too often to the lick
meets the hunter at last!”
CHAPTER VII.
“And is this—Yarrow?—this the stream
Of which my fancy cherished
So faithfully a waking dream?
An image that hath perished?
O that some minstrel's harp were near,
To utter notes of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness.”
Wordsworth.
The scene was not without its sublimity, and the ardent,
generous-minded Mabel felt her blood thrill in her veins, and
her cheeks flush, as the canoe shot into the strength of the
stream to quit the spot. The darkness of the night had lessened,
by the dispersion of the clouds; but the overhanging
woods rendered the shores so obscure, that the boats floated
down the current in a belt of gloom that effectually secured
them from detection. Still, there was necessarily a strong
feeling of insecurity in all on board them; and even Jasper,
who by this time began to tremble in behalf of the girl, at
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every unusual sound that arose from the forest, kept casting
uneasy glances around him, as he drifted on, in company.
The paddle was used lightly, and only with exceeding care,
for the slightest sound in the breathing stillness of that hour
and place, might apprise the watchful ears of the Iroquois of
their position.
All these accessaries added to the impressive grandeur of
her situation, and contributed to render the moment much
the most exciting that had ever occurred in the brief existence
of Mabel Dunham. Spirited, accustomed to self-reliance,
and sustained by the pride of considering herself a soldier's
daughter, she could hardly be said to be under the influence
of fear, yet her heart often beat quicker than common, her
fine blue eye lighted with an exhibition of a resolution that
was wasted in the darkness, and her quickened feelings came
in aid of the real sublimity that belonged to the scene, and to
the incidents of the night.
“Mabel!” said the suppressed voice of Jasper, as the two
canoes floated so near each other that the hand of the young
man held them together, “you have no dread, you trust
freely to our care, and willingness to protect you?”
“I am a soldier's daughter, as you know, Jasper Western,
and ought to be ashamed to confess fear.”
“Rely on me — on us all. Your uncle, Pathfinder, the
Delaware, were the poor fellow here, I myself, will risk everything
rather than harm should reach you.”
“I believe you, Jasper,” returned the girl, her hand unconsciously
playing in the water. “I know that my uncle
loves me, and will never think of himself until he has first
thought of me; and I believe you are all my father's friends,
and would willingly assist his child. But I am not so feeble
and weak-minded as you may think, for though only a girl
from the towns, and like most of that class, a little disposed to
see danger where there is none, I promise you, Jasper, no
foolish fears of mine shall stand in the way of your doing
your duty.”
“The serjeant's daughter is right, and she is worthy of
being honest Thomas Dunham's child,” put in the Pathfinder.
“Ahs me! pretty one, many is the time that your father and
I have scouted and marched together on the flanks and rear
of the enemy, in nights darker than this, and that too, when
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we did not know but the next moment would lead us into a
bloody ambushment. I was at his side when he got the
wound in his shoulder, and the honest fellow will tell you
when you meet, the manner in which we contrived to cross
the river that lay in our rear, in order to save his scalp.”
“He has told me,” said Mabel, with more energy perhaps
than her situation rendered prudent. “I have his letters, in
which he has mentioned all that, and, I thank you from the
bottom of my heart for the service. God will remember it,
Pathfinder; and there is no gratitude that you can ask of the
daughter, which she will not cheerfully repay for her father's
life.”
“Ay, that is the way with all your gentle and pure-hearted
creatur's! I have seen some of you before, and have heard
of others! The serjeant, himself, has talked to me of his own
young days; and of your mother, and of the manner in which
he courted her, and of all the crossings and disappointments,
until he succeeded at last.”
“My mother did not live long to repay him for what he
did to win her,” said Mabel, with a trembling lip.
“So he tells me. The honest serjeant has kept nothing
back, for being so many years my senior, he has looked on
me, in our many scoutings together, as a sort of son.”
“Perhaps, Pathfinder,” observed Jasper, with a huskiness
in his voice that defeated the attempt at pleasantry, “he would
be glad to have you for one, in reality.”
“And if he did, Eau-douce, where would be the sin of it?
He knows what I am on a trail, or a scout, and he has seen
me often, face to face, with the Frenchers. I have sometimes
thought, lad, that we all ought to seek for wives; for the man
that lives altogether in the woods, and in company with his
enemies, or his prey, gets to lose some of the feeling of kind,
in the end.”
“From the specimen I have seen,” observed Mabel, “I
should say that they who live much in the forest, forget to
learn many of the deceits and vices of the towns.”
“It is not easy, Mabel, to dwell always in the presence of
God, and not feel the power of his goodness. I have attended
church-sarvice in the garrisons, and tried hard, as becomes
a true soldier, to join in the prayers; for though no enlisted
sarvant of the king, I fight his battles and sarve his cause,—
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and so I have endeavoured to worship garrison-fashion, but
never could raise within me the solemn feelings and true
affection that I feel when alone with God in the forest. There
I seem to stand face to face, with my Master; all around me
is fresh and beautiful, as it came from his hand; and there
is no nicety, or doctrine, to chill the feelings. No, no; the
woods are the true temple, after all, for there the thoughts are
free to mount higher even than the clouds.”
“You speak the truth, Master Pathfinder,” said Cap, “and
a truth that all who live much in solitude know. What, for
instance, is the reason that sea-faring men, in general, are
so religious and conscientious in all they do, but the fact that
they are so often alone with Providence, and have so little to
do with the wickedness of the land. Many and many is the
time, that I have stood my watch, under the equator perhaps,
or in the Southern Ocean, when the nights are lighted up with
the fires of heaven; and that is the time, I can tell you, my
hearties, to bring a man to his bearings, in the way of his
sins. I have rattled down mine, again and again, under
such circumstances, until the shrouds and lanyards of conscience
have fairly creaked with the strain. I agree with
you, Master Pathfinder, therefore, in saying if you want a
truly religious man, go to sea, or go into the woods.”
“Uncle, I thought seamen had little credit, generally, for
their respect for religion.”
“All d—d slander, girl! Ask your sea-faring man what
his real, private opinion is of your landsmen, parsons and all,
and you will hear the other side of the question. I know no
class of men who have been so belied as sea-faring men, in
this particular; and it is all because they do not stay at home
to defend themselves, and pay the clergy. They haven't as
much doctrine, perhaps, as some ashore, but as for all the
essentials of Christianity, the seaman beats the landsman,
hand-over-hand.
“I will not answer for all this, Master Cap,” returned
Pathfinder, “but I dare say some of it may be true. I want
no thunder and lightning to remind me of my God, nor am
I as apt to bethink on most of all his goodness, in trouble
and tribulations, as on a calm, solemn, quiet day, in a forest,
when his voice is heard in the creaking of a dead branch, or
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in the song of a bird, as much in my ears at least, as it is
ever heard in uproar and gales. How is it with you, Eaudouce;
you face the tempests as well as Master Cap, and
ought to know something of the feelings of storms?”
“I fear that I am too young and too inexperienced, to be
able to say much on such a subject,” modestly answered
Jasper.
“But you have your feelings!” said Mabel, quickly. “You
cannot—no one can live among such scenes without feeling
how much they ought to trust in God!”
“I shall not belie my training so much as to say I do not
sometimes think of these things, but I fear it is not as often,
or as much as I ought.”
“Fresh water!” resumed Cap, pithily; “you are not to
expect too much of the young man, Mabel. I think they call
you, sometimes, by a name which would insinuate all this.
Eau-de-vie, is it not?”
“Eau-douce,” quietly replied Jasper, who from sailing on
the lake had acquired a knowledge of French, as well as of
several of the Indian dialects. “It is a name the Iroquois
have given me to distinguish me from some of my companions
who once sailed upon the sea, and are fond of filling
the ears of the natives, with stories of their great salt-water
lakes.”
“And why shouldn't they! I dare say they do the savages
no harm. They may not civilize them, but they will not
make them greater barbarians than they are. Ay—ay—
Eau-deuce, that must mean the white brandy, which is no
great matter after all, and may well enough be called the
deuce, for deuced stuff it is!”
“The signification of Eau-douce is sweet-water, or water
that can be drunk, and it is the manner in which the French
express fresh-water,” rejoined Jasper, a little nettled at the
distinction made by Cap, although the latter was the uncle of
Mabel.
“And how the devil do they make water out of Eau-in-deuce,
when it means brandy in Eau-de-vie? This may be
the French used hereaway, but it is not that they use in Burdux
and other French ports; besides, among seamen Eau always
means brandy, and Eau-de-vie, brandy of a high proof. I
think nothing of your ignorance, young man, for it is natural
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to your situation, and cannot be helped. If you will return
with me, and make a v'y'ge or two, on the Atlantic, it will
serve you a good turn the remainder of your days, and Mabel,
there, and all the other young women, near the coast, will
think all the better of you, should you live to be as old as one
of the trees in this forest.”
“Nay, nay,” interrupted the single-hearted and generous
guide, “Jasper wants not for friends in this region, I can
assure you; and though seeing the world, according to his
habits, may do him good, as well as another, we shall think
none the worse of him if he never quits us. Eau-douce or
Eau-de-vie, he is a brave, true-hearted youth, and I always
sleep as sound when he is on the watch as if I was up and
stirring myself; ay, and for that matter, sounder too. The
serjeant's daughter, here, doesn't believe it necessary for the
lad to go to sea, in order to make a man of him, or one who
is worthy to be respected and esteemed.”
Mabel made no reply to this appeal, and she even looked
towards the western shore, although the darkness rendered
the natural movement unnecessary to conceal her face. But
Jasper felt that there was a necessity for his saying something;
the pride of youth and manhood revolting at the idea
of his being in a condition not to command the respect of his
fellows, or the smiles of his equals of the other sex. Still
he was unwilling to utter aught that might be considered
harsh, to the uncle of Mabel; and his self-command was, perhaps,
more creditable than his modesty and spirit.
“I pretend not to things I don't possess,” he said, “and
lay no claim to any knowledge of the ocean, or of navigation.
We steer by the stars and the compass on these lakes,
running from head-land to head-land, and, having little need
of figures and calculations, make no use of them. But, we
have our claims, notwithstanding, as I have often heard from
those who have passed years on the ocean. In the first place,
we have always the land aboard, and much of the time on
a lee-shore, and that I have frequently heard makes hardy
sailors. Our gales are sudden and severe, and we are compelled
to run for our ports at all hours—”
“You have your leads,” interrupted Cap.
“They are of little use, and are seldom cast.”
“The deep-seas—”
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“I have heard of such things, but confess I never saw
one.”
“Oh! deuce, with a vengeance. A trader, and no deep-sea!
Why, boy, you cannot pretend to be any thing of a
mariner. Who the devil ever heard of a seaman without
his deep-sea?”
“I do not pretend to any particular skill, Master Cap—”
“Except in shooting falls, Jasper; except in shooting falls
and rifts,” said Pathfinder, coming to the rescue; “in which
business, even you, Master Cap, must allow he has some
handiness. In my judgment, every man is to be esteemed
or condemned according to his gifts, and if Master Cap is
useless in running the Oswego falls, I try to remember that
he is useful when out of sight of land; and if Jasper be
useless when out of sight of land, I do not forget that he
has a true eye and steady hand when running the falls.”
“But Jasper is not useless—would not be useless, when
out of sight of land,” said Mabel, with a spirit and energy
that caused her clear sweet voice to be startling, amid the
solemn stillness of that extraordinary scene. “No one can
be useless there, who can do so much here, is what I mean;
though I dare say, he is not as well acquainted with ships as
my uncle.”
“Ay, bolster each other up in your ignorance,” returned
Cap, with a sneer; “we seamen are so much out-numbered
when ashore, that it is seldom we get our dues; but when
you want to be defended, or trade is to be carried on, there is
outcry enough for us.”
“But, uncle, landsmen do not come to attack our coasts;
so that seamen only meet seamen.”
“So much for ignorance!—Where are all the enemies
that have landed in this country, French and English; let
me inquire, niece?”
“Sure enough, where are they!” ejaculated Pathfinder.
“None can tell better than we who dwell in the woods, Master
Cap. I have often followed their line of march by bones
bleaching in the rain, and have found their trail by graves,
years after they and their pride had vanished together. Generals
and privates, they lay scattered throughout the land, so
many proofs of what men are when led on by their love of
great names, and the wish to be more than their fellows.”
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“I must say, Master Pathfinder, that you sometimes utter
opinions that are a little remarkable, for a man who lives by
the rifle; seldom snuffing the air but he smells gunpowder,
or turning out of his berth but to bear down on an enemy.”
“If you think I pass my days in warfare against my kind,
you know neither me, nor my history. The man that lives
in the woods, and on the frontiers, must take the chances of
the things among which he dwells. For this I am not accountable,
being but an humble and powerless hunter, and
scout, and guide. My real calling is to hunt for the army,
on its marches, and in times of peace; although I am more
especially engaged in the service of one officer, who is now
absent in the settlements, where I never follow him. No—
no—bloodshed and warfare are not my real gifts, but peace
and mercy. Still, I must face the enemy as well as another;
and as for a Mingo, I look upon him, as man looks on a
snake—a creatur' to be put beneath the heel, whenever a
fitting occasion offers.”
“Well, well—I have mistaken your calling, which I had
thought as regularly warlike as that of a ship's gunner.
There is my brother-in-law, now; he has been a soldier since
he was sixteen, and he looks upon his trade as every way as
respectable as that of a sea-faring man, which is a point I
hardly think it worth while to dispute with him.”
“My father has been taught to believe that it is honourable
to carry arms,” said Mabel, “for his father was a soldier
before him.”
“Yes, yes”—resumed the guide — “most of the serjeant's
gifts are martial, and he looks at most things in this world
over the barrel of his musket. One of his notions now, is to
prefer a king's piece to a regular double-sighted, long-barreled
rifle! Such conceits will come over men, from long habit;
and prejudice is perhaps the commonest failing of human
natur'.”
“Ashore, I grant you,” said Cap. “I never return from
a v'y'ge, but I make the very same remark. Now, the last
time I came in, I found scarcely a man in all York, who
would think of matters and things in general as I thought
about them myself. Every man I met appeared to have
bowsed all his idees up into the wind's eye, and when he did
fall off a little from his one-sided notions, it was commonly
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to ware short round on his heel, and to lay up as close as
ever on the other tack.”
“Do you understand this, Jasper?” — the smiling Mabel
half-whispered to the young man, who still kept his own
canoe so near, as to be close at her side.
“There is not so much difference between salt and fresh
water, that we who pass our time on them cannot comprehend
each other. It is no great merit, Mabel, to understand
the language of our trade.”
“Even religion,” continued Cap, “isn't moored in exactly
the same place it was in my young days. They veer and
haul upon it ashore, as they do on all other things, and it is
no wonder if, now and then, they get jammed. Every thing
seems to change but the compass, and even that has its variations.”
“Well,” returned the Pathfinder, “I thought Christianity
and the compass both pretty stationary.”
“So they are, afloat, bating the variations. Religion at
sea, is just the same thing to-day that it was when I first put
my hand into the tar-bucket. No one will dispute it who has
the fear of God before his eyes. I can see no difference between
the state of religion on board ship now, and what it
was when I was a younker. But it is not so ashore, by any
means. Take my word for it, Master Pathfinder, it is a difficult
thing to find a man—I mean a landsman—who views
these matters to-day, exactly as he looked at them forty years
ago.”
“And yet God is unchanged — his works are unchanged—
his holy word is unchanged, and all that ought to bless
and honour his name, should be unchanged too!”
“Not ashore. That is the worst of the land; it is all the
while in motion, I tell you, though it looks so solid. If you
plant a tree, and leave it, on your return from a three years'
v'y'ge you dont find it, at all, the sort of thing you left it.
The towns grow, and new streets spring up; the wharves are
altered; and the whole face of the earth undergoes change.
Now a ship comes back from an India v'y'ge just the thing
she sailed, bating the want of paint, wear and tear, and the
accidents of the sea.”
“That is too true, Master Cap, and more's the pity. Ahs
me!—the things they call improvements and betterments, are
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undermining and defacing the land! The glorious works of
God are daily cut down and destroyed, and the hand of man
seems to be upraised in contempt of his mighty will. They
tell me there are fearful signs of what we may all come to,
to be met with, west and south of the great lakes, though I
have never yet visited that region.”
“What do you mean, Pathfinder?” modestly enquired
Jasper.
“I mean the spots marked by the vengeance of heaven,
or which, perhaps, have been raised up as solemn warnings
to the thoughtless and wasteful, hereaways. They call them
prairies, and I have heard as honest Delawares as I ever
knew, declare that the finger of God has been laid so heavily
on them, that they are totally without trees. This is an
awful visitation to befall innocent earth, and can only mean
to show to what frightful consequences a heedless desire to
destroy may lead.”
“And yet I have seen settlers who have much fancied
these open spots, because they saved them the toil of clearing.
You relish your bread, Pathfinder, and yet wheat will not
ripen in the shade.”
“But honesty will, and simple wishes, and a love of God,
Jasper. Even Master Cap will tell you a treeless plain must
resemble a desert island.”
“Why that as it may be,” put in Cap. “Desert islands,
too, have their uses, for they serve to correct the reckonings
by. If my taste is consulted, I shall never quarrel with a
plain for wanting trees. As nature has given a man eyes to
look about with, and a sun to shine, were it not for ship-building,
and now and then a house, I can see no great use
in a tree; especially one that dont bear monkeys or fruit.”
To this remark the guide made no answer, beyond a low
sound, intended to enjoin silence on his companions. While
the desultory conversation just related had been carried on
in subdued voices, the canoes were dropping slowly down
with the current, within the deep shadows of the western
shore, the paddles being used merely to preserve the desired
direction and proper positions. The strength of the stream
varied materially, the water being seemingly still in places,
while in other reaches it flowed at a rate exceeding two, or
even three miles, in the hour. On the rifts it even dashed
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forward with a velocity that was appalling to the unpractised
eye. Jasper was of opinion that they might drift down with
the current to the mouth of the river in two hours from the
time they left the shore, and he and the Pathfinder had agreed
on the expediency of suffering the canoes to float of themselves,
for a time, or, at least, until they had passed the first
dangers of their new movement. The dialogue had been
carried on in voices, too, guardedly low; for, though the quiet
of deep solitude reigned in that vast and nearly boundless
forest, nature was speaking with her thousand tongues, in
the eloquent language of night in a wilderness. The air
sighed through ten thousand trees, the water rippled, and, at
places, even roared along the shores; and now and then was
heard the creaking of a branch, or a trunk, as it rubbed
against some object similar to itself, under the vibrations of a
nicely balanced body. All living sounds had ceased. Once,
it is true, the Pathfinder fancied he heard the howl of a distant
wolf, of which a few prowled through these woods, but it was
a transient and doubtful cry, that might possibly have been
attributed to the imagination. When he desired his companions,
however, to cease talking, in the manner just mentioned,
his vigilant ear had caught the peculiar sound that is made
by the parting of a dried branch of a tree, and which, if his
senses did not deceive him, came from the western shore.
All who are accustomed to that particular sound, will understand
how readily the ear receives it, and how easy it is to
distinguish the tread which breaks the branch from every
other noise of the forest.
“There is the footstep of a man on the bank,” said Pathfinder
to Jasper, speaking in neither a whisper nor yet in a
voice loud enough to be heard at any distance. “Can the
accursed Iroquois have crossed the river, already, with their
arms, and without a boat?”
“It may be the Delaware! He would follow us of course
down this bank, and would know where to look for us. Let
me draw closer in to the shore, and reconnoitre.”
“Go, boy, but be light with the paddle, and, on no account,
venture ashore on an onsartainty.”
“Is this prudent?” demanded Mabel, with an impetuosity
that rendered her incautious in modulating her sweet voice.
“Very imprudent, if you speak so loud, fair one. I like
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your voice, which is soft and pleasing, after listening so long
to the tones of men; but it must not be heard too much, or
too freely, just now. Your father, the honest serjeant, will
tell you, when you meet him, that silence is a double virtue
on a trail. Go, Jasper, and do justice to your own character
for prudence.”
Ten anxious minutes succeeded the disappearance of the
canoe of Jasper, which glided away from that of the Pathfinder
so noiselessly, that it had been swallowed up in the
gloom before Mabel allowed herself to believe the young
man would really venture alone, on a service that struck her
imagination as singularly dangerous. During this time, the
party continued to float with the current, no one speaking,
and it might almost be said, no one breathing, so strong was
the general desire to catch the minutest sound that should
come from the shore. But the same solemn, we might indeed
say sublime, quiet, reigned as before; the washing of the
water, as it piled up against some slight obstruction, and the
sighing of the trees, alone interrupting the slumbers of the
forest. At the end of the period mentioned, the snapping of
dried branches were again faintly heard, and the Pathfinder
fancied that the sound of smothered voices reached him.
“I may be mistaken,” he said, “for the thoughts often
fancy what the heart wishes; but these were notes like the
low tones of the Delaware!”
“Do the dead of the savages ever walk?” demanded Cap.
“Ay, and run, too, in their happy hunting-grounds, but
nowhere else. A red-skin finishes with the 'arth, after the
breath quits the body. It is not one of his gifts to linger
around his wigwam, when his hour has passed.”
“I see some object on the water,” whispered Mabel, whose
eye had not ceased to dwell on the body of gloom, with
close intensity, since the disappearance of Jasper.
“It is the canoe!” returned the guide, greatly relieved.
“All must be safe, or we should have heard from the lad.”
In another minute the two canoes, which became visible
to those they carried, only as they drew near each other,
again floated side by side, and the form of Jasper was recognised
at the stern of his own boat. The figure of a second
man was seated in the bow, and as the young sailor so
wielded his paddle, as to bring the face of his companion
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near the eyes of the Pathfinder and Mabel, they both recognised
the person of the Delaware.
“Chingachgook — my brother!” said the guide, in the
dialect of the other's people, a tremor shaking his voice that
betrayed the strength of his feelings—“Chief of the Mohicans!
my heart is very glad. Often have we passed through
blood and strife together, but I was afraid it was never to be
so again.”
“Hugh! — The Mingos are squaws! — Three of their
scalps hang at my girdle. They do not know how to strike
the Great Serpent of the Delawares. Their hearts have no
blood, and their thoughts are on their return path, across the
waters of the Great Lake.”
“Have you been among them, chief?—and what has become
of the warrior who was in the river?”
“He has turned into a fish, and lies at the bottom with
the eels! Let his brothers bait their hooks for him. Pathfinder,
I have counted the enemy, and have touched their
rifles.”
“Ah! I thought he would be venturesome!” exclaimed the
guide, in English. “The risky fellow has been in the midst
of them, and has brought us back their whole history. Speak,
Chingachgook, and I will make our friends as knowing as
ourselves.”
The Delaware now related in a low earnest manner, the
substance of all his discoveries since he was last seen struggling
with his foe, in the river. Of the fate of his antagonist
he said no more, it not being usual for a warrior to boast
in his more direct and useful narratives. As soon as he had
conquered in that fearful strife, however, he swam to the eastern
shore, landed with caution, and wound his way in
amongst the Iroquois, concealed by the darkness, undetected,
and, in the main, even unsuspected. Once, indeed, he had
been questioned, but answering that he was Arrowhead, no
further inquiries were made. By the passing remarks, he
soon ascertained that the party was out expressly to intercept
Mabel and her uncle, concerning whose rank, however, they
had evidently been deceived. He also ascertained enough
to justify the suspicion that Arrowhead had betrayed them to
their enemies, for some motive that it was not now easy to
reach, as he had not yet received the reward of his services.
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Pathfinder communicated no more of this intelligence to
his companions than he thought might relieve their apprehensions,
intimating at the same time, that now was the
moment for exertion, the Iroquois not having yet entirely
recovered from the confusion created by their losses.
“We shall find them at the rift, I make no manner of
doubt,” he continued, “and there it will be our fate to pass
them, or to fall into their hands. The distance to the garrison
will then be so short, that I have been thinking of the
plan of landing with Mabel, myself, that I may take her in,
by some of the by-ways, and leave the canoes to their chances
in the rapids.”
“It will never succeed, Pathfinder,” eagerly interrupted
Jasper. “Mabel is not strong enough to tramp the woods in
a night like this. Put her in my skiff, and I will lose my life,
or carry her through the rift safely, dark as it is.”
“No doubt you will, lad; no one doubts your willingness
to do anything to serve the serjeant's daughter; but it must
be the eye of Providence, and not your own, that will take
you safely through the Oswego rift in a night like this.”
“And who will lead her safely to the garrison if she land?
Is not the night as dark on shore as on the water? or do you
think I know less of my calling than you know of yours?”
“Spiritedly said, lad; but if I should lose my way in the
dark, and I believe no man can say truly that such a thing
ever yet happened to me—but, if I should lose my way, no
other harm would come of it than to pass a night in the
forest, whereas a false turn of the paddle, or a broad sheer
of the canoe, would put you and the young woman into the
river, out of which it is more than probable the serjeant's
daughter would never come alive.”
“I will leave it to Mabel, herself; I am certain that she
will feel more secure in the canoe.”
“I have great confidence in you both,” answered the girl,
“and have no doubts that either will do all he can to prove
to my father how much he values him; but I confess I should
not like to quit the canoe, with the certainty we have of there
being enemies like those we have seen, in the forest. But my
uncle can decide for me, in this matter.”
“I have no liking for the woods,” said Cap, “while one
has a clear drift like this on the river. Besides, Master
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Pathfinder, to say nothing of the savages, you overlook the
sharks.”
“Sharks! who ever heard of sharks in the wilderness?”
“Ay! sharks, or bears, or wolves—no matter what you
call a thing, so it has the mind and power to bite.”
“Lord, lord, man; do you dread any creatur' that is to
be found in the American forest? A catamount is a skeary
animal, I will allow, but then it is nothing in the hands of a
practised hunter. Talk of the Mingos, and their deviltries,
if you will; but do not raise a false alarm about bears and
wolves.”
“Ay, ay, Master Pathfinder, this is all well enough for
you, who probably know the name of every creature you
would meet. Use is every thing, and it makes a man bold
when he might otherwise be bashful. I have known seamen
in the low latitudes, swim for hours at a time, among sharks
fifteen or twenty feet long, and think no more of what they
were doing, than a countryman thinks of whom he is amongst,
when he comes out of a church-door of a Sunday afternoon.”
“This is extraordinary!” exclaimed Jasper, who, in good
sooth, had not yet acquired that material part of his trade,
the ability to spin a yarn. “I have always heard that it was
certain death to venture in the water, among sharks!”
“I forgot to say, that the lads always took capstan-bars,
or gunners' handspikes, or crows with them, to rap the beasts
over the noses, if they got to be troublesome. No—no—I
have no liking for bears and wolves, though a whale, in my
eye, is very much the same sort of fish as a red-herring,
after it is dried and salted. Mabel and I had better stick to
the canoe.”
“Mabel would do well to change canoes,” added Jasper.
“This of mine is empty, and even Pathfinder will allow that
my eye is surer than his own, on the water.”
“That I will, cheerfully, boy. The water belongs to your
gifts, and no one will deny that you have improved them to
the utmost. You are right enough in believing that the serjeant's
daughter will be safer in your canoe than in this;
and, though I would gladly keep her near myself, I have her
welfare too much at heart, not to give her honest advice.
Bring your canoe close alongside, Jasper, and I will give
you what you must consider as a precious treasure.”
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“I do so consider it,” returned the youth, not losing a moment
in complying with the request; when Mabel passed
from one canoe to the other, taking her seat on the effects
which had hitherto composed its sole cargo.
As soon as this arrangement was made, the canoes separated
a short distance, and the paddles were used, though
with great care to avoid making any noise. The conversation
gradually ceased, and as the dreaded rift was approached,
all became impressed with the gravity of the moment.
That their enemies would endeavour to reach this point before
them, was almost certain; and it seemed so little probable
any one should attempt to pass it, in the profound obscurity
which reigned, that Pathfinder was confident parties were
on both sides of the river, in the hope of intercepting them
when they might land. He would not have made the proposal
he did, had he not felt sure of his own ability to
convert this very anticipation of success, into a means of
defeating the plans of the Iroquois. As the arrangement now
stood, however, every thing depended on the skill of those
who guided the canoes; for should either hit a rock, if not
split asunder, it would almost certainly be upset, and then
would come not only all the hazards of the river itself, but,
for Mabel, the certainty of falling into the hands of her pursuers.
The utmost circumspection consequently became necessary,
and each one was too much engrossed with his own
thoughts, to feel a disposition to utter more than was called
for by the exigencies of the case.
As the canoes stole silently along, the roar of the rift became
audible, and it required all the fortitude of Cap to keep
his seat, while these boding sounds were approached, amid
a darkness that scarcely permitted a view of the outlines of
the wooded shore, and of the gloomy vault above his head.
He retained a vivid impression of the Falls, and his imagination
was not now idle, in swelling the dangers of the rift to
a level with those of the headlong descent he had that day
made, and even to increase them, under the influence of
doubt and uncertainty. In this, however, the old mariner
was mistaken, for the Oswego Rift and the Oswego Falls are
very different in their characters and violence; the former
being no more than a rapid, that glances among shallows
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and rocks, while the latter really deserved the name it bore,
as has been already shown.
Mabel certainly felt distrust and apprehension; but her
entire situation was so novel, and her reliance on her guide
so great, that she retained a self-command that might not
have existed had she clearer perceptions of the truth, or been
better acquainted with the helplessness of men, when placed
in opposition to the power and majesty of nature.
“That is the spot you have mentioned?” she said to Jasper,
when the roar of the rift first came fresh and distinct
on her ear.
“It is; and I beg you to have confidence in me. We are
not old acquaintances, Mabel, but we live many days in one,
in this wilderness. I think already, that I have known you
years!”
“And I do not feel as if you were a stranger to me, Jasper.
I have every reliance on your skill, as well as on your disposition
to serve me.”
“We shall see—we shall see. Pathfinder is striking the
rapids too near the centre of the river. The bed of the water
is closer to the eastern shore; but I cannot make him hear
me, now. Hold firmly to the canoe, Mabel, and fear nothing.”
At the next moment, the swift current had sucked them
into the rift, and for the three or four minutes the awe-struck,
rather than the alarmed girl, saw nothing around her but
sheets of glancing foam; heard nothing but the roar of waters.
Twenty times did the canoe appear about to dash
against some curling and bright wave, that showed itself even
amid that obscurity, and as often did it glide away again,
unharmed; impelled by the vigorous arm of him who governed
its movements. Once, and once only, did Jasper seem
to lose command of his frail bark, during which brief space
it fairly whirled entirely round; but, by a desperate effort, he
brought it again under control, recovered the lost channel,
and was soon rewarded for all his anxiety by finding himself
floating quietly in the deep water below the rapids; secure
from every danger, and without having taken in enough of
the element to serve for a draught.
“All is over, Mabel,” the young man cried, cheerfully.
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“The danger is past, and you may now, indeed, hope to
meet your father this very night.”
“God be praised! Jasper, we shall owe this great happiness
to you!”
“The Pathfinder may claim a full share in the merit;—
but what has become of the other canoe?”
“I see something near us on the water: is it not the boat
of our friends?”
A few strokes of the paddle brought Jasper to the side of
the object in question. It was the other canoe, empty and
bottom upwards. No sooner did the young man ascertain
this fact, than he began to search for the swimmers; and, to
his great joy, Cap was soon discovered drifting down with
the current; the old seaman preferring the chances of drowning,
to those of landing among savages. He was hauled into
the canoe, though not without difficulty, and then the search
ended; for Jasper was persuaded that the Pathfinder would
wade to the shore, the water being shallow, in preference to
abandoning his beloved rifle.
The remainder of the passage was short, though made
amid darkness and doubt. After a short pause, a dull roaring
sound was heard, which at times resembled the mutterings
of distant thunder, and then again brought with it the washing
of waters. Jasper announced to his companions that
they now heard the surf of the lake. Low, curved spits of
land lay before them, into the bay formed by one of which
the canoe glided, and then it shot up noiselessly upon a gravelly
beach. The transition that followed was so hurried
and great, that Mabel scarce knew what passed. In the
course of a few minutes, however, sentinels had been passed,
a gate was opened, and the agitated girl found herself in the
arms of a parent who was almost a stranger to her.
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CHAPTER VIII.
“A land of love, and a land of light,
Withouten sun, or moon, or night:
Where the river swa'd a living stream,
And the light a pure celestial beam:
The land of vision, it would seem
A still, an everlasting dream.”
Queen's Wake.
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The rest that succeeds fatigue, and which attends a newly
awakened sense of security, is generally sweet and deep.
Such was the fact with Mabel, who did not rise from her
humble pallet, such a bed as a serjeant's daughter might
claim in a remote frontier post, until long after the garrison
had obeyed the usual summons of the drums, and had assembled
at the morning parade. Serjeant Dunham, on whose
shoulders fell the task of attending to these ordinary and
daily duties, had got through all his morning avocations, and
was beginning to think of his breakfast, ere his child left her
room, and came into the fresh air, equally bewildered, delighted,
and grateful, at the novelty and security of her new
situation.
At the time of which we are writing, Oswego was one of
the extreme frontier posts of the British possessions on this
continent. It had not been long occupied, and was garrisoned
by a battalion of a regiment that had been originally
Scotch, but into which many Americans had been received,
since its arrival in this country,—an innovation that had led
the way to Mabel's father filling the humble, but responsible,
situation of the oldest serjeant. A few young officers, also,
who were natives of the colonies, were to be found in the
corps. The fort, itself, like most works of that character,
was better adapted to resist an attack of savages, than to
withstand a regular siege; but the great difficulty of transporting
heavy artillery, and other necessaries, rendered the
occurrence of the latter, a probability so remote, as scarcely
to enter into the estimate of the engineers who had planned
the defences. There were bastions of earth and logs, a dry
ditch, a stockade, a parade of considerable extent, and
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barracks of logs, that answered the double purpose of dwellings
and fortifications. A few light field-pieces stood in the area
of the fort, ready to be conveyed to any point where they
might be wanted, and one or two heavy iron guns looked out
from the summits of the advanced angles, as so many admonitions
to the audacious to respect their power.
When Mabel, quitting the convenient, but comparatively
retired hut, where her father had been permitted to place her,
issued into the pure air of the morning, she found herself at
the foot of a bastion, that lay invitingly before her, with a
promise of giving a coup d'œil of all that had been concealed
in the darkness of the preceding night. Tripping up the
grassy ascent, the light-hearted, as well as light-footed girl,
found herself, at once, on a point where the sight, at a few
varying glances, could take in all the external novelties of
her new situation.
To the southward lay the forest through which she had
been journeying, so many weary days, and which had
proved so full of dangers. It was separated from the stockade,
by a belt of open land, that had been principally cleared
of its woods, to form the martial constructions around her.
This glacis, for such in fact was its military uses, might
have covered a hundred acres, but with it every sign of civilization
ceased. All beyond was forest; that dense, interminable
forest that Mabel could now picture to herself, through
her recollections, with its hidden, glassy lakes, its dark, rolling
streams, and its world of nature!
Turning from this view, our heroine felt her cheek fanned
by a fresh and grateful breeze, such as she had not experienced
since quitting the far-distant coast. Here a new scene
presented itself; although expected, it was not without a
start, and a low exclamation indicative of pleasure, that the
eager eyes of the girl drunk in its beauties. To the north,
and east, and west, in every direction, in short, over one entire
half of the novel panorama, lay a field of rolling waters.
The element was neither of that glassy green, which distinguishes
the American waters in general, nor yet of the deepblue
of the ocean; the colour being of a slightly amber hue,
that scarcely affected its limpidity. No land was to be seen,
with the exception of the adjacent coast, which stretched to
the right and left, in an unbroken outline of forest, with wide
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bays, and low head-lands or points; still much of the shore
was rocky, and into its caverns the sluggish waters occasionally
rolled, producing a hollow sound, that resembled the
concussions of a distant gun. No sail whitened the surface,
no whale or other fish gambolled on its bosom, no sign of
use, or service, rewarded the longest and most minute gaze
at its boundless expanse. It was a scene, on one side, of
apparently endless forests, while a waste of seemingly interminable
water spread itself on the other. Nature had appeared
to delight in producing grand effects, by setting two
of her principal agents in bold relief to each other, neglecting
details; the eye turning from the broad carpet of leaves,
to the still broader field of fluid, from the endless but gentle
heavings of the lake, to the holy calm and poetical solitude
of the forest, with wonder and delight.
Mabel Dunham, though unsophisticated, like most of her
countrywomen of that period, and ingenuous and frank as
any warm-hearted and sincere-minded girl well could be,
was not altogether without a feeling for the poetry of this
beautiful earth of ours. Although she could scarcely be said
to be educated at all, for few of her sex, at that day, and in
this country, received much more than the rudiments of plain
English instruction, still she had been taught much more than
was usual for young women in her own station in life, and,
in one sense certainly, she did credit to her teaching. The
widow of a field-officer, who formerly belonged to the same
regiment as her father, had taken the child in charge at the
death of its mother, and under the care of this lady, Mabel
had acquired some tastes, and many ideas, which otherwise
might always have remained strangers to her. Her situation
in the family had been less that of a domestic than of a
humble companion, and the results were quite apparent in
her attire, her language, her sentiments, and even in her
feelings, though neither, perhaps, rose to the level of those
which would properly characterize a lady. She had lost the
coarser and less refined habits and manners of one in her
original position, without having quite reached a point that
disqualified her for the situation in life that the accidents of
birth and fortune would probably compel her to fill. All
else that was distinctive and peculiar in her, belonged to natural
character.
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With such antecedents, it will occasion the reader no
wonder, if he learns that Mabel viewed the novel scene before
her with a pleasure far superior to that produced by vulgar
surprise. She felt its ordinary beauties, as most would have
felt them, but she had also a feeling for its sublimity; for that
softened solitude, that calm grandeur, and eloquent repose that
ever pervades broad views of natural objects which are yet
undisturbed by the labours and struggles of man.
“How beautiful!” she exclaimed, unconscious of speaking,
as she stood on the solitary bastion, facing the air from the
lake, and experiencing the genial influence of its freshness
pervading both her body and her mind. “How very beautiful;
and yet how singular!”
The words, and the train of her ideas, were interrupted by
a touch of a finger on her shoulder, and turning, in the
expectation of seeing her father, Mabel found Pathfinder at
her side. He was leaning quietly on his long rifle, and
laughing in his quiet manner, while, with an outstretched
arm, he swept over the whole panorama of land and water.
“Here you have both our domains,” he said, “Jasper's
and mine. The lake is for him, and the woods are for me.
The lad sometimes boasts of the breadth of his dominions, but
I tell him my trees make as broad a plain on the face of
this 'arth, as all his water. Well, Mabel, you are fit for
either, for I do not see that fear of the Mingos, or night
marches can destroy your pretty looks.”
“It is a new character for the Pathfinder to appear in, to
compliment a silly girl.”
“Not silly, Mabel; no, not in the least silly. The serjeant's
daughter would do discredit to her worthy father,
were she to do, or say, any thing that, in common honesty,
could be called silly.”
“Then she must take care and not put too much faith in
treacherous, flattering words. But, Pathfinder, I rejoice to
see you among us again; for, though Jasper did not seem to
feel much uneasiness, I was afraid some accident might have
happened to you and your friend, on that frightful rift.”
“The lad kows us both, and was sartain that we should
not drown, which is scarcely one of my gifts. It would have
been hard swimming, of a sartainty, with a long-barrelled
rifle in the hand; and what between the game, and the
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savages, and the French, Killdeer and I have gone through too
much in company, to part very easily. No—no—we waded
ashore, the rift being shallow enough for that, with small exceptions,
and we landed with our arms in our hands. We
had to take our time for it, on account of the Iroquois, I will
own; but, as soon as the skulking vagabonds saw the lights
that the serjeant sent down to your canoe, we well understood
they would decamp, since a visit might have been expected
from some of the garrison. So it was only sitting
patiently on the stones, for an hour, and all the danger was
over. Patience is the greatest of virtues in a woodsman.”
“I rejoice to hear this, for fatigue itself could scarcely
make me sleep, for thinking of what might befall you.”
“Lord bless your tender little heart, Mabel! But this is
the way, with all you gentle ones. I must say, on my part,
however, that I was right glad to see the lanterns come down
to the water-side, which I knew to be a sure sign of your
safety. We hunters and guides are rude beings, but we have
our feelings, and our idees, as well as any general in the
army. Both Jasper and I would have died, before you should
have come to harm—we would!”
“I thank you for all you did for me, Pathfinder; from
the bottom of my heart, I thank you, and depend on it my
father shall know it. I have already told him much, but
have still a duty to perform, on this subject.”
“Tush, Mabel! The serjeant knows what the woods be,
and what men—true red-men be, too. There is little need
to tell him any thing about it. Well, now you have met
your father, do you find the honest old soldier the sort of
person you expected to find?”
“He is my own dear father, and received me as a soldier
and a father should receive a child. Have you known him
long, Pathfinder?”
“That is as people count time. I was just twelve when the
serjeant took me on my first scouting, and that is now more
than twenty years ago. We had a tramping time of it, and
as it was before your day, you would have had no father,
had not the rifle been one of my natural gifts.”
“Explain yourself.”
“It is too simple for many words. We were ambushed,
and the serjeant got a bad hurt, and would have lost his
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scalp, but for a sort of inbred turn I took to the weapon.
We brought him off, however, and a handsomer head of
hair, for his time of life, is not to be found in the rijiment,
than the serjeant carries about with him, this blessed day.”
“You saved my father's life, Pathfinder!” exclaimed Mabel,
unconsciously, though warmly, taking one of his hard
sinewy hands into both her own. “God bless you for this,
too, among your other good acts.”
“Nay, I did not say that much, though I believe I did
save his scalp. A man might live without a scalp, and so I
cannot say I saved his life. Jasper may say that much consarning
you; for without his eye and arm the canoe would
never have passed the rift in safety, on a night like the last.
The gifts of the lad are for the water, while mine are for the
hunt and the trail. He is yonder, in the cove, there, looking
after the canoes, and keeping an eye on his beloved little
craft. To my eye, there is no likelier youth, in these parts,
than Jasper Western.”
For the first time since she had left her room, Mabel now
turned her eyes beneath her, and got a view of what might
be called the fore-ground of the remarkable picture she had
been studying with so much pleasure. The Oswego threw
its dark waters into the lake, between banks of some height;
that on its eastern side, being bolder and projecting farther
north than that on its western. The fort was on the latter,
and immediately beneath it, were a few huts of logs, which,
as they could not interfere with the defence of the place, had
been erected along the strand for the purpose of receiving
and containing such stores as were landed, or were intended
to be embarked in the communications between the different
ports on the shores of Ontario. There were two low, curved
gravelly points, that had been formed with surprising regularity
by the counteracting forces of the northerly winds and
the swift current, and which, inclining from the storms of
the lake, formed two coves within the river. That on the
western side was the most deeply indented, and as it also
had the most water, it formed a sort of picturesque little port,
for the post. It was along the narrow strand that lay between
the low height of the fort and the water of this cove, that the
rude buildings, just mentioned, had been erected.
Several skiffs, batteaux and canoes were hauled up on the
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shore, and in the cove itself lay the little craft, from which
Jasper obtained his claim to be considered a sailor. She was
cutter-rigged, might have been of forty tons burthen, was so
neatly constructed and painted as to have something of the
air of a vessel of war, though entirely without quarters, and
rigged and sparred with so scrupulous a regard to proportions
and beauty, as well as fitness and judgment, as to give her
an appearance that even Mabel at once distinguished to be
gallant and trim. Her mould was admirable, for a wright
of great skill had sent her drafts from England at the
express request of the officer who had caused her to be constructed;
her paint dark, warlike and neat; and the long
coach-whip pennant that she wore, at once proclaimed her
to be the property of the king. Her name was the Scud.
“That, then, is the vessel of Jasper!” said Mabel, who
associated the master of the little craft quite naturally with
the cutter itself. “Are there many others on this lake?”
“The Frenchers have three; one of which they tell me is
a real ship, such as are used on the ocean, another a brig,
and a third is a cutter, like the Scud, here, which they call
the Squirrel, in their own tongue, however; and which seems
to have a natural hatred of our own pretty boat, for Jasper
seldom goes out that the Squirrel is not at his heels.”
“And is Jasper one to run from a Frenchman, though he
appears in the shape of a squirrel, and that, too, on the
water!”
“Of what use would valour be without the means of turning
it to account? Jasper is a brave boy, as all on this frontier
know; but he has no gun except a little howitzer, and then
his crew consists only of two men besides himself, and a boy.
I was with him in one of his trampooses, and the youngster
was risky enough, for he brought us so near the enemy that
rifles began to talk; but the Frenchers carry cannon, and
ports, and never show their faces outside of Frontenac, without
having some twenty men, besides their Squirrel, in their
cutter. No—no—this Scud was built for flying, and the
Major says he will not put her in a fighting humour, by giving
her men and arms, lest she should take him at his word,
and get her wings clipped. I know little of these things, for
my gifts are not at all in that way; but I see the reason of
the thing—I see its reason, though Jasper does not.”
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“Ah! here is my uncle, none the worse for his swim,
coming to look at this inland sea.”
Sure enough, Cap, who had announced his approach by a
couple of lusty hems, now made his appearance on the bastion,
where, after nodding to his niece and her companion,
he made a deliberate survey of the expanse of water before
him. In order to effect this at his ease, the mariner mounted
on one of the old iron guns, folded his arms across his breast,
and balanced his body, as if he felt the motion of a vessel.
To complete the picture, he had a short pipe in his mouth.
“Well, Master Cap,” asked the Pathfinder innocently, for
he did not detect the expression of contempt that was gradually
settling on the features of the other, “is it not a beautiful
sheet, and fit to be named a sea?”
“This, then, is what you call your lake?” demanded Cap,
sweeping the northern horizon with his pipe. “I say, is
this, really, your lake?”
“Sartain; and, if the judgment of one who has lived on
the shores of many others can be taken, a very good lake
it is.”
“Just as I expected! A pond in dimensions, and a scuttlebutt
in taste. It is all in vain to travel inland, in the hope of
seeing any thing either full-grown or useful. I knew it would
turn out just in this way.”
“What is the matter with Ontario, Master Cap? It is
large, and fair to look at, and pleasant enough to drink, for
those who can't get at the water of the springs.”
“Do you call this large?” asked Cap, again sweeping the
air with the pipe. “I will just ask you what there is large
about it? Didn't Jasper himself confess that it was only
some twenty leagues from shore to shore?
“But uncle,” interposed Mabel, “no land is to be seen,
except here on our own coast. To me it looks exactly like
the ocean.”
“This bit of a pond look like the ocean! Well, Magnet,
that from a girl who has had real seamen in her family is
downright nonsense. What is there about it, pray, that has
even the outline of a sea on it?”
“Why, there is water—water—water—nothing but water,
for miles on miles—far as the eye can see.”
“And isn't there water—water—water—nothing but water
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for miles on miles, in your rivers, that you have been canoeing
through, too?—ay, and `as far as the eye can see,'
in the bargain?”
“Yes, uncle, but the rivers have their banks, and there
are trees along them, and they are narrow.”
“And isn't this a bank where we stand—don't these soldiers
call this the bank of the lake, and ar'n't there trees in
thousands, and ar'n't twenty leagues narrow enough of all
conscience? Who the devil ever heard of the banks of the
ocean, unless it might be the banks that are under water?”
“But, uncle, we cannot see across this lake, as we can
see across a river.”
“There you are out, Magnet. Ar'n't the Amazon, and
Oronoco, and La Plata rivers, and can you see across them?
Harkee, Pathfinder, I very much doubt if this stripe of water
here, be even a lake; for to me it appears to be only a river.
You are by no means particular about your geography, I
find, up here in the woods.”
“There you are out, Master Cap. There is a river, and
a noble one too, at each end of it; but this is old Ontario before
you, and, though it is not my gift to live on a lake, to
my judgment there are few better than this.”
“And, uncle, if we stood on the beach at Rockaway, what
more should we see, than we now behold? There is a shore
on one side, or banks there, and trees, too, as well as those
which are here.”
“This is perverseness, Magnet, and young girls should
steer clear of any thing like obstinacy. In the first place,
the ocean has coasts, but no banks, except the Grand Banks,
as I tell you, which are out of sight of land; and you will
not pretend that this bank is out of sight of land, or even
under water?”
As Mabel could not very plausibly set up this extravagant
opinion, Cap pursued the subject, his countenance beginning
to discover the triumph of a successful disputant.
“And then them trees bear no comparison to these trees.
The coasts of the ocean have farms, and cities, and countryseats,
and, in some parts of the world, castles and monasteries,
and light-houses—ay—ay—light-houses, in particular,
on them; not one of all which things is to be seen here.
No—no—Master Pathfinder, I never heard of an ocean that
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hadn't more or less light-houses on it, whereas, hereaway,
there is not even a beacon.”
“There is what is better—there's what is better; a forest
and noble trees, a fit temple of God.”
“Ay, your forest may do for a lake, but of what use would
an ocean be, if the earth all around it were forest? Ships
would be unnecessary, as timber might be floated in rafts,
and there would be an end of trade, and what would a world
be without trade. I am of that philosopher's opinion, who
says, human nature was invented for the purposes of trade.
Magnet, I am astonished that you should think this water
even looks like sea-water! Now, I dare say, that there
isn't such a thing as a whale, in all your lake, Master
Pathfinder!”
“I never heard of one, I will confess, but I am no judge
of animals that live in the water, unless it be the fishes of the
rivers and the brooks.”
“Nor a grampus, nor a porpoise even; not so much as a
poor devil of a shark?”
“I will not take it on myself to say there is either. My
gifts are not in that way, I tell you, Master Cap.”
“Nor herring, nor albatross, nor flying-fish” — continued
Cap, who kept his eye fastened on the guide, in order to see
how far he might venture. “No such thing as a fish that
can fly, I dare say?”
“A fish that can fly! Master Cap—Master Cap, do not
think because we are mere borderers, that we have no idees
of natur', and what she has been pleased to do. I know thero
are squirrels that can fly—”
“A squirrel fly! — the devil, Master Pathfinder. Do you
suppose that you have got a boy on his first v'y'ge, up here
among you?”
“I know nothing of your v'y'ges, Master Cap, though I
suppose them to have been many; but, as for what belongs
to natur' in the woods, what I have seen I may tell, and not
fear the face of man.”
“And do you wish me to understand that you have seen
a squirrel fly?”
“If you wish to understand the power of God, Master Cap,
you will do well to believe that, and many other things of a
like natur', for you may be quite sartain it is true.”
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“And yet, Pathfinder,” said Mabel, looking so pretty and
sweet even while she played with the guide's infirmity, that
he forgave her in his heart—“you, who speak so reverently
of the power of the Deity, appear to doubt that a fish can fly?”
“I have not said it—I have not said it; and, if Master Cap
is ready to testify to the fact, unlikely as it seems, I am willing
to try to think it true. I think it every man's duty to
believe in the power of God, however difficult it may be.”
“And why isn't my fish as likely to have wings as your
squirrel?” demanded Cap, with more logic than was his wont.
“That fishes do and can fly, is as true as it is reasonable—”
“Nay, that is the only difficulty in believing the story,”
rejoined the guide. “It seems unreasonable to give an animal
that lives in the water wings, which seemingly can be
of no use to them.”
“And do you suppose that the fishes are such asses as to
fly about under water, when they are once fairly fitted out
with wings?”
“Nay, I know nothing of the matter, but that fish should
fly in the air seems more contrary to natur' still, than that
they should fly in their own element; that, in which they
were born and brought up, as one might say.”
“So much for contracted ideas, Magnet. The fish fly out
of water to run away from their enemies in the water; and
there you see not only the fact, but the reason for it.”
“Then I suppose it must be true,” said the guide, quietly.
“How long are their flights?”
“Not quite as far as those of pigeons, perhaps, but far
enough to make an offing. As for those squirrels of yours,
we'll say no more about them, friend Pathfinder, as I suppose
they were mentioned just as a make-weight to the fish,
in favour of the woods. But what is this thing, anchored
here under the hill?”
“That is the cutter of Jasper, uncle,” said Mabel, hurriedly—
“and a very pretty vessel I think it is. Its name, too,
is the Scud.”
“Ay, it will do well enough for a lake, perhaps, but it 's
no great affair. The lad had got a standing bowsprit, and
who ever saw a cutter with a standing bowsprit, before!”
“But may there not be some good reason for it, on a lake
like this, uncle?”
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“Sure enough—I must remember this is not the ocean,
though it does look so much like it.”
“Ah! uncle, then Ontario does look like the ocean, after
all!”
“In your eyes, I mean, and those of Pathfinder; not in
the least in mine, Magnet. Now you might set me down,
out yonder, in the middle of this bit of a pond, and that too
in the darkest night that ever fell from the heavens, and in
the smallest canoe, and I could tell you it was only a lake.
For that matter, the Dorothy (the name of his vessel) would
find it out as quick as I could myself. I do not believe that
brig would make more than a couple of short stretches at the
most, before she would perceive the difference between Ontario
and the old Atlantic. I once took her down into one
of the large South American bays, and she behaved herself as
awkwardly as a booby would in a church, with the congregation
in a hurry. And Jasper sails that boat? I must have a
cruise with the lad, Magnet, before I quit you, just for the
name of the thing. It would never do to say I got in sight
of this pond, and went away without taking a trip on it.”
“Well, well, you needn't wait long for that,” returned
Pathfinder—“for the serjeant is about to embark with a
party, to relieve a post among the Thousand Islands, and,
as I heard him say, he intended that Mabel should go along,
you can join company too.”
“Is this true, Magnet?”
“I believe it is,” returned the girl, a flush so imperceptible
as to escape the observation of her companions, glowing on
her cheeks, “though I have had so little opportunity to talk
with my dear father, that I am not quite certain. Here he
comes, however, and you can inquire of himself.”
Notwithstanding his humble rank, there was something in
the mien and character of serjeant Dunham that commanded
respect. Of a tall imposing figure, grave and saturnine disposition,
and accurate and precise in his acts and manner of
thinking, even Cap, dogmatical and supercilious as he usually
was with landsmen, did not presume to take the same liberties
with the old soldier, as he did with his other friends. It
was often remarked that serjeant Dunham received more
true respect from Duncan of Lundie, the Scotch laird who
commanded the post, than most of the subalterns; for
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experience and tried services were of quite as much value in the
eyes of the veteran major, as birth and money. While the
serjeant never even hoped to rise any higher, he so far
respected himself and his present station, as always to act in
a way to command attention; and the habit of mixing so
much with inferiors, whose passions and dispositions he felt
it necessary to restrain by distance and dignity, had so far
coloured his whole deportment, that few were altogether free
from its influence. While the captains treated him kindly,
and as an old comrade, the lieutenants seldom ventured to
dissent from his military opinions; and the ensigns, it was
remarked, actually manifested a species of respect, that
amounted to something very like deference. It is no wonder
then, that the announcement of Mabel put a sudden termination
to the singular dialogue we have just related, though
it had been often observed that the Pathfinder was the only
man, on that frontier, beneath the condition of a gentleman,
who presumed to treat the serjeant at all as an equal, or even
with the cordial familiarity of a friend.
“Good morrow, brother Cap,” said the serjeant, giving the
military salute, as he walked, in a grave, stately manner on
the bastion. “My morning duty has made me seem forgetful
of you and Mabel, but we have now an hour or two to spare,
and to get acquainted. Do you not perceive, brother, a strong
likeness in the girl, to her we have so long lost?”
“Mabel is the image of her mother, serjeant, as I have
always said, with a little of your firmer figure; though, for
that matter, the Caps were never wanting in spring and
activity.”
Mabel cast a timid glance at the stern, rigid countenance
of her father, of whom she had ever thought as the warm-hearted
dwell on the affection of their absent parents, and, as
she saw that the muscles of his face were working, notwithstanding
the stiffness and method of his manner, her very
heart yearned to throw herself on his bosom, and to weep at
will. But he was so much colder in externals, so much more
formal and distant than she had expected to find him, that
she would not have dared to hazard the freedom, even had
they been alone.
“You have taken a long and troublesome journey, brother,
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on my account, and we will try to make you comfortable,
while you stay among us.”
“I hear you are likely to receive orders to lift your anchor,
serjeant, and to shift your berth into a part of the world where
they say there are a thousand islands?”
“Pathfinder, this is some of your forgetfulness?—”
“Nay, nay, serjeant; I forgot nothing, but it did not seem
to me necessary to hide your intentions so very closely from
your own flesh and blood.”
“All military movements ought to be made with as little
conversation as possible,” returned the serjeant, tapping the
guide's shoulder, in a friendly, but reproachful manner.
“You have passed too much of your life in front of the
French, not to know the value of silence. But, no matter:
the thing must soon be known, and there is no great use in
trying, now, to conceal it. We shall embark a relief party,
shortly, for a post on the lake, though I do not say it is for
the Thousand Islands, and I may have to go with it; in
which case, I intend to take Mabel to make my broth for me,
and I hope, brother, you will not despise a soldier's fare, for
a month or so.”
“That will depend on the manner of marching. I have
no love for woods and swamps.”
“We shall sail in the Scud; and, indeed, the whole service,
which is no stranger to us, is likely enough to please
one accustomed to the water.”
“Ay, to salt-water, if you will, but not to lake-water. If
you have no person to handle that bit of a cutter for you, I
have no objection to ship for the v'y'ge, notwithstanding, though
I shall look on the whole affair as so much time thrown away;
for I consider it an imposition to call sailing about this pond,
going to sea.”
“Jasper is every way able to manage the Scud, brother
Cap, and in that light I cannot say that we have need of
your services, though we shall be glad of your company.
You cannot return to the settlements, until a party is sent in,
and that is not likely to happen until after my return.
Well, Pathfinder, this is the first time I ever knew men on
the trail of the Mingos, and you not at their head!”
“To be honest with you, serjeant,” returned the guide,
not without a little awkwardness of manner, and a perceptible
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difference in the hue of a face that had become so uniformly
red by exposure, “I have not felt that it was my gift, this
morning. In the first place, I very well know that the soldiers
of the 55th are not the lads to overtake Iroquois in
the woods, and the knaves did not wait to be surrounded,
when they knew that Jasper had reached the garrison. Then,
a man may take a little rest, after a summer of hard work,
and no impeachment of his good will. Besides, the Sarpent
is out with them, and if the miscreants are to be found at all,
you may trust to his inmity and sight: the first being stronger,
and the last nearly, if not quite, as good as my own. He
loves the skulking vagabonds as little as myself; and, for
that matter, I may say that my own feelings towards a Mingo,
are not much more than the gifts of a Delaware grafted on
a Christian stock. No — no — I thought I would leave the
honour, this time, if honour there is to be, to the young ensign
that commands, who, if he don't lose his scalp, may
boast of his campaign in his letters to his mother, when he
gets in. I thought I would play idler once in my life.”
“And no one has a better right, if long and faithful service
entitles a man to a furlough,” returned the serjeant,
kindly. “Mabel will think none the worse of you, for preferring
her company to the trail of the savages; and, I dare
say, will be happy to give you a part of her breakfast, if you
are inclined to eat. You must not think, girl, however, that
the Pathfinder is in the habit of letting prowlers around the
fort beat a retreat, without hearing the crack of his rifle.”
“If I thought she did, serjeant, thought not much given to
showy and parade evolutions, I would shoulder Killdeer, and
quit the garrison before her pretty eyes had time to frown.
No—no—Mabel knows me better, though we are but new
acquaintances, for there has been no want of Mingos to enliven
the short march we have already made in company.”
“It would need a great deal of testimony, Pathfinder, to
make me think ill of you, in any way, and more than all,
in the way you mention,” returned Mabel, colouring with the
sincere earnestness with which she endeavoured to remove
any suspicion to the contrary, from his mind. “Both father
and daughter, I believe, owe you their lives, and believe me
that neither will ever forget it.”
“Thank you, Mabel, thank you with all my heart. But
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I will not take advantage of your ignorance neither, girl, and
therefore shall say I do not think the Mingos would have burt
a hair of your head, had they succeeded by their deviltries
and contrivances, in getting you into their hands. My scalp,
and Jasper's, and Master Cap's, there, and the Sarpent's, too,
would sartainly have been smoked; but as for the serjeant's
daughter, I do not think they would have hurt a hair of her
head!”
“And why should I suppose that enemies known to spare
neither women nor children, would have shown more mercy
to me than to another? I feel, Pathfinder, that I owe you
my life.”
“I say nay, Mabel; they wouldn't have had the heart to
hurt you. No, not even a fiery Mingo devil, would have had
the heart to hurt a hair of your head! Bad as I suspect the
vampires to be, I do not suspect them of any thing so wicked
as that. They might have wished you—nay, forced you to
become the wife of one of their chiefs, and that would be torment
enough to a Christian young woman; but beyond that
I do not think even the Mingos themselves would have gone.”
“Well, then, I shall owe my escape from this great misfortune
to you,” said Mabel, taking his hard hand into her
own, frankly and cordially, and certainly in a way to delight
the honest guide. “To me it would be a lighter evil to be
killed, than to become the wife of an Indian.”
“That is her gift, serjeant,” exclaimed Pathfinder, turning
to his old comrade, with gratification written on every lineament
of his honest countenance, “and it will have its way.
I tell the Sarpent, that no christianizing will ever make even
a Delaware a white man; nor any whooping and yelling
convert a pale-face into a red-skin. That is the gift of a
young woman born of Christian parents, and it ought to be
maintained.”
“You are right, Pathfinder, and so far as Mabel Dunham
is concerned, it shall be maintained. But it is time to break
your fasts, and if you will follow me, brother Cap, I will
show you how we poor soldiers live, here on a distant frontier.”
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CHAPTER IX.
“Now my co-mates and partners in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the curious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam.”
As You Like It.
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Serjeant Dunham made no empty vaunt, when he gave
the promise conveyed in the closing words of the last chapter.
Notwithstanding the remote frontier position of the post, they
who lived at it enjoyed a table that, in many respects, kings
and princes might have envied. At the period of our tale,
and, indeed, for half a century later, the whole of that vast
region which has been called the west, or the new countries,
since the war of the revolution, lay a comparatively unpeopled
desert, teeming with all the living productions of nature,
that properly belonged to the climate, man and the domestic
animals excepted. The few Indians that roamed its forests
then, could produce no visible effects on the abundance of
the game; the the scattered garrisons, or occasional hunters,
that here and there were to be met with on that vast surface,
had no other influence than the bee on the buckwheat field,
or the humming-bird on the flower.
The marvels that have descended to our own times, in the
way of tradition, concerning the quantities of beasts, birds
and fishes, that were then to be met with, on the shores of
the great lakes in particular, are known to be sustained by
the experience of living men; else might we hesitate about
relating them; but having been eye-witnesses of some of these
prodigies, our office shall be discharged with the confidence
that certainty can impart. Oswego was particularly well
placed to keep the larder of an epicure amply supplied. Fish
of various sorts abounded in its river, and the sportsman had
only to cast his line to haul in a bass or some other member
of the finny tribe, which then peopled the waters, as the air
above the swamps of this fruitful latitude are known to be
filled with insects. Among others, was the salmon of the
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lakes, a variety of that well-known species, that is scarcely
inferior to the delicious salmon of northern Europe. Of the
different migratory birds that frequent forests and waters,
there was the same affluence, hundreds of acres of geese and
ducks being often seen at a time, in the great bays that indent
the shores of the lake. Deer, bears, rabbits, and squirrels,
with divers other quadrupeds, among which was sometimes
included the elk, or moose, helped to complete the sum
of the natural supplies, on which all the posts depended,
more or less, to relieve the unavoidable privations of their
remote frontier positions.
In a place where viands, that would elsewhere be deemed
great luxuries, were so abundant, no one was excluded from
their enjoyment. The meanest individual at Oswego habitually
feasted on game that would have formed the boast of a
Parisian table; and it was no more than a healthful commentary
on the caprices of taste, and of the waywardness
of human desires, that the very diet, which in other scenes
would have been deemed the subject of envy and repinings,
got to pall on the appetite. The coarse and regular food
of the army, which it became necessary to husband on
account of the difficulty of transportation, rose in the estimation
of the common soldier, and, at any time, he would
cheerfully desert his venison, and ducks, and pigeons, and
salmon, to banquet on the sweets of pickled pork, stringy
turnips and half-cooked cabbage.
The table of Serjeant Dunham, as a matter of course, partook
of the abundance and luxuries of the frontier, as well
as of its privations. A delicious broiled salmon smoked on
a homely platter, hot venison steaks sent up their appetizing
odours, and several dishes of cold meats, all of which were
composed of game, had been set before the guests, in honour
of the newly-arrived visiters, and in vindication of the old
soldier's hospitality.
“You do not seem to be on short allowance, in this quarter
of the world, serjeant,” said Cap, after he had got fairly
initiated into the mysteries of the different dishes: “your
salmon might satisfy a Scotsman.”
“It fails to do it, notwithstanding, brother Cap; for among
two or three hundred of the fellows, that we have in this garrison,
there are not half a dozen who will not swear that the
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fish is unfit to be eaten. Even some of the lads, who never
tasted venison except as poachers at home, turn up their
noses at the fattest haunches that we get here.”
“Ay, that is Christian natur',” put in Pathfinder, “and I
must say, it is none to its credit. Now, a red-skin never repines,
but is always thankful for the food he gets, whether it
be fat, or lean, venison, or bear; wild turkey's breast, or
wild goose's wing. To the shame of us white men be it
said, that we look upon blessings without satisfaction, and
consider trifling evils as matters of great account.”
“It is so with the 55th, as I can answer, though I cannot
say as much for their Christianity;” returned the serjeant.
“Even the Major himself, old Duncan of Lundie, will sometimes
swear an oat-meal cake is better fare than the Oswego
bass, and sigh for a swallow of Highland water, when, if so
minded, he has the whole of Ontario to quench his thirst in.”
“Has Major Duncan a wife and children?” asked Mabel,
whose thoughts naturally turned towards her own sex, in her
new situation.
“Not he, girl; though they do say that he has a betrothed,
at home. The lady, it seems, is willing to wait, rather than
suffer the hardships of service, in this wild region, all of
which, brother Cap, is not according to my notions of a woman's
duties. Your sister thought differently, and had it
pleased God to spare her, would have been sitting, at this
moment, on the very camp-stool that her daughter so well
becomes.”
“I hope, serjeant, you do not think of Mabel, for a soldier's
wife,” returned Cap, gravely. “Our family has done
its share, in that way, already, and it 's high time that the
sea was again remembered.”
“I do not think of finding a husband for the girl in the
55th, or any other regiment, I can promise you, brother;
though I do think it getting to be time that the child were
respectably married.”
“Father!”
“'T is not their gifts, serjeant, to talk of these matters in
so open a manner,” said the guide; “for I 've seen it verified
by experience, that he who would follow the trail of a virgin's
good-will, must not go shouting out his thoughts behind
her. So, if you please, we will talk of something else.”
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“Well, then, brother Cap, I hope that bit of a cold roasted
pig is to your mind; you seem to fancy the food.”
“Ay, ay, give me civilized grub, if I must eat,” returned
the pertinacious seaman. “Venison is well enough for your
inland sailors, but we of the ocean like a little of that which
we understand.”
Here Pathfinder laid down his knife and fork, and indulged
in a hearty laugh, though always in his silent manner: then
he asked, with a little curiosity in his manner—
“Don't you miss the skin, Master Cap; don't you miss
the skin?”
“It would have been better for its jacket, I think myself,
Pathfinder; but I suppose it is a fashion of the woods to
serve up shoats in this style.”
“Well, well, a man may go round the 'arth and not know
every thing! If you had had the skinning of that pig, Master
Cap, it would have left you sore hands. The creatur' is
a hedge-hog!”
“Blast me, if I thought it wholesome natural pork, either;”
returned Cap. “But then I believed even a pig might lose
some of its good qualities, up hereaway, in the woods. It
seemed no more than reason that a fresh-water hog should
not be altogether so good as a salt-water hog. I suppose,
serjeant, by this time, it is all the same to you?”
“If the skinning of it, brother, does not fall to my duty.
Pathfinder, I hope you didn't find Mabel disobedient on the
march?”
“Not she—not she. If Mabel is only half as well satisfied
with Jasper and the Pathfinder, as the Pathfinder and
Jasper are satisfied with her, serjeant, we shall be friends for
the remainder of our days.”
As the guide spoke, he turned his eyes towards the blushing
girl, with a sort of innocent desire to know her opinion;
and then, with an inborn delicacy that proved he was far superior
to the vulgar desire to invade the sanctity of feminine
feeling, he looked at his plate, and seemed to regret his own
boldness.
“Well, well, we must remember that women are not men,
my friend,” resumed the serjeant, “and make proper allowances
for nature and education. A recruit is not a veteran.
Any man knows that it takes longer to make a good soldier,
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than it takes to make any thing else; and it ought to require
unusual time to make a good soldier's daughter.”
“This is new doctrine, serjeant,” said Cap, with some
spirit. “We old seamen are apt to think that six soldiers,
ay, and capital soldiers too, might be made, while one sailor
is getting his education.”
“Ay, brother Cap, I 've seen something of the opinions
which sea-faring men have of themselves,” returned the brother-in-law,
with a smile as bland as comported with his
saturnine features; “for I was many years one of the garrison
in a sea-port. You and I have conversed on the subject
before, and I 'm afraid we shall never agree. But if
you wish to know what the difference is, between a real soldier,
and man in what I should call a state of nature, you
have only to look at a battalion of the 55th, on parade this
afternoon, and then, when you get back to York, examine
one of the militia regiments making its greatest efforts.”
“Well, to my eye, serjeant, there is very little difference—
not more than you 'll find between a brig and a snow. To
me they seem alike; all scarlet, and feathers, and powder,
and pipe-clay.”
“So much, sir, for the judgment of a sailor,” returned the
serjeant with dignity; “but perhaps you are not aware that
it requires a year to teach a true soldier how to eat.”
“So much the worse for him! The militia know how to
eat at starting; for I have often heard that, on their marches,
they commonly eat all before them, even if they do nothing
else.”
“They have their gifts, I suppose, like other men,” observed
Pathfinder, with a view to preserve the peace, which
was evidently in some danger of being broken, by the obstinate
predilection of each of the disputants in favour of his
own calling; “and when a man has his gift from Providence,
it is commonly idle to endeavour to bear up against it. The
55th, serjeant, is a judicious regiment, in the way of eating,
as I know from having been so long in its company, though
I dare say militia corps could be found that would outdo
them in feats of that natur', too.”
“Uncle,” said Mabel, “if you have breakfasted, I will
thank you to go out upon the bastion with me, again. We
have neither of us half seen the lake, and it would be
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hardly seemly for a young woman to be walking about the fort,
the first day of her arrival, quite alone.”
Cap understood the motive of Mabel, and having, at the
bottom, a hearty friendship for his brother-in-law, he was
willing enough to defer the argument until they had been
longer together, for the idea of abandoning it altogether,
never crossed the mind of one so dogmatical and obstinate.
He accordingly accompanied his niece, leaving Serjeant
Dunham and his friend, the Pathfinder, alone, together. As
soon as his adversary had beat a retreat, the serjeant, who
did not quite so well understand the manœuvre of his
daughter, turned to his companion, and with a smile that was
not without triumph, he remarked—
“The army, Pathfinder, has never yet done itself justice,
in the way of asserting its rights; and, though modesty becomes
a man, whether he is in a red coat or a black one, or,
for that matter, in his shirt-sleeves, I don't like to let a good
opportunity slip of saying a word in its behalf. Well, my
friend,” laying his own hand on one of the Pathfinder's, and
giving it a hearly squeeze—“how do you like the girl?”
“You have reason to be proud of her, serjeant; you have
reason to be proud at finding yourself the father of so handsome
and well-mannered a young woman. I have seen many
of her sex, and some that were great and beautiful, but never
before did I meet with one, in whom I thought Providence
had so well balanced the different gifts.”
“And the good opinion, I can tell you, Pathfinder, is
mutual. She told me last night all about your coolness, and
spirit, and kindness, — particularly the last; for kindness
counts for more than half with females, my friend,—and the
first inspection seems to give satisfaction on both sides.
Brush up the uniform, and pay a little more attention to the
outside, Pathfinder, and you will have the girl, heart and
hand.”
“Nay, nay, serjeant, I 've forgotten nothing that you have
told me, and grudge no reasonable pains to make myself as
pleasant in the eyes of Mabel, as she is getting to be in mine.
I cleaned and brightened up Killdeer, this morning, as soon
as the sun rose; and, in my judgment, the piece never looked
better than it does at this very moment!”
“That is according to your hunting notions, Pathfinder;
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but fire-arms should sparkle and glitter in the sun, and I never
yet could see any beauty in a clouded barrel.”
“Lord Howe thought otherwise, serjeant; and he was accounted
a good soldier!”
“Very true—his lordship had all the barrels of his regiment
darkened, and what good came of it? You can see his
'scutcheon hanging in the English church at Albany! No,
no, my worthy friend, a soldier should be a soldier, and at
no time ought he to be ashamed, or afraid, to carry about
him the signs and symbols of his honourable trade. Had you
much discourse with Mabel, Pathfinder, as you came along
in the canoe?”
“There was not much opportunity, serjeant, and then I
found myself so much beneath her in ideas, that I was afraid
to speak of much beyond what belonged to my own gifts.”
“Therein, you are partly right, and partly wrong, my
friend. Women love trifling discourse, though they like to
have most of it to themselves. Now, you know, I 'm a man
that do not loosen my tongue at every giddy thought, and
yet there were days when I could see that Mabel's mother
thought none the worse of me, because I descended a little
from my manhood. It is true, I was twenty-two years
younger then, than I am to-day; and, moreover, instead of
being the oldest serjeant in the regiment, I was the youngest.
Dignity is commanding and useful, and there is no getting
on without it, as respects the men; but if you would be
thoroughly esteemed by a woman, it is necessary to condescend
a little, on occasions.”
“Ahs me! serjeant; I sometimes fear it will never do!”
“Why do you think so discouragingly of a matter on which
I thought both our minds were made up?”
“We did agree that if Mabel should prove what you told
me she was, and if the girl could fancy a rude hunter and
guide, that I would quit some of my wandering ways, and
try to humanize my mind down to a wife and children. But
since I have seen the girl, I will own that many misgivings
have come over me!”
“How 's this!” interrupted the serjeant, sternly—“Did I
not understand you to say that you were pleased?—And is
Mabel a young woman to disappoint expectation?”
“Ah! serjeant, it is not Mabel that I distrust; but myself.
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I am but a poor ignorant woodsman, after all, and perhaps
I'm not, in truth, as good as even you and I may think me!”
“If you doubt your own judgment of yourself, Pathfinder,
I beg you will not doubt mine. Am I not accustomed to
judge men's character?—Is it not my especial duty, and am
I often deceived? Ask Major Duncan, sir, if you desire any
assurances in this particular.”
“But, serjeant, we have long been friends; have fou't side
by side, a dozen times, and have done each other many services.
When this is the case, men are apt to think over-kindly
of each other, and I fear me that the daughter may
not be so likely to view a plain, ignorant hunter as favourably
as the father does.”
“Tut—tut—Pathfinder—you don't know yourself, man,
and may put all faith in my judgment. In the first place,
you have experience, and as all girls must want that, no
prudent young woman would overlook such a qualification.
Then you are not one of the coxcombs that strut about when
they first join a regiment, but a man who has seen service,
and who carries the marks of it on his person and countenance.
I dare say you have been under fire, some thirty
or forty times, counting all the skirmishes and ambushes that
you've seen.”
“All of that, serjeant, all of that; but what will it avail,
in gaining the good-will of a tender-hearted young female?”
“It will gain the day. Experience in the field is as good
in love, as in war. But you are as honest-hearted, and as
loyal a subject, as the king can boast of—God bless him!”
“That may be too—that may be too; but I'm afeard I'm
too rude, and too old, and too wild like, to suit the fancy of
such a young and delicate girl, as Mabel, who has been unused
to our wilderness ways, and may think the settlements
better suited to her gifts and inclinations.”
“These are new misgivings for you, my friend, and I wonder
they were never paraded before.”
“Because I never knew my own worthlessness, perhaps, until
I saw Mabel. I have travelled with some as fair, and have
guided them through the forest, and seen them in their perils
and in their gladness; but they were always too much above
me, to make me think of them, as more than so many feeble
ones I was bound to protect and defend. The case is now
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different. Mabel and I are so nearly alike, that I feel weighed
down with a load that is hard to bear, at finding us so unlike.
I do wish, serjeant, that I was ten years younger, more comely
to look at, and better suited to please a handsome young woman's
fancy!”
“Cheer up, my brave friend, and trust to a father's knowledge
of womankind. Mabel half loves you, already, and a
fortnight's intercourse and kindness, down among the islands
yonder, will close ranks with the other half. The girl as
much as told me this herself, last night.”
“Can this be so, serjeant?” said the guide, whose meek
and modest nature shrunk from viewing himself in colours so
favourable. “Can this be truly so! I am but a poor hunter,
and Mabel, I see, is fit to be an officer's lady. Do you think
the girl will consent to quit all her beloved settlement usages,
and her visitings, and church-goings, to dwell with a plain
guide and hunter, up hereaway, in the woods? Will she
not, in the end, crave her old ways, and a better man?”
“A better man, Pathfinder, would be hard to find,” returned
the father. “As for town usages, they are soon forgotten in
the freedom of the forest, and Mabel has just spirit enough
to dwell on a frontier. I 've not planned this marriage, my
friend, without thinking it over, as a general does his campaign.
At first, I thought of bringing you into the regiment,
that you might succeed me when I retire, which must be
sooner or later; but on reflection, Pathfinder, I think you are
scarcely fitted for the office. Still, if not a soldier, in all the
meanings of the word, you are a soldier in its best meaning,
and I know that you have the good will of every officer in
the corps. As long as I live, Mabel can dwell with me, and
you will always have a home, when you return from your
scoutings and marches.”
“This is very pleasant to think of, serjeant, if the girl can
only come into our wishes with good will. But, ahs me!
it does not seem that one like myself, can ever be agreeable
in her handsome eyes! If I were younger, and more comely,
now, as Jasper Western is, for instance; there might be a
chance—yes, then, indeed, there might be some chance.”
“That, for Jasper Eau-douce, and every younker of them
in, or about the fort!” returned the serjeant, snapping his
fingers. “If not actually a younger, you are a younger
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looking, ay, and a better looking man than the Scud's
master—”
“Anan!” said Pathfinder, looking up at his companion
with an expression of doubt, as if he did not understand his
meaning.
“I say, if not actually younger in days and years, you
look more hardy and like whip-cord, than Jasper, or any of
them; and there will be more of you, thirty years hence,
than of all of them put together. A good conscience will
keep one like you a mere boy, all his life.”
“Jasper has as clear a conscience as any youth, I know,
serjeant!—and is as likely to wear, on that account, as any
young man in the colony.”
“Then you are my friend,” squeezing the other's hand—
“my tried, sworn and constant friend.”
“Yes, we have been friends, serjeant, near twenty years—
before Mabel was born.”
“True enough—before Mabel was born, we were well-tried
friends, and the hussy would never dream of refusing to
marry a man who was her father's friend before she was
born!”
“We don't know, serjeant, we don't know. Like loves
like. The young prefer the young for companions, and the
old the old.”
“Not for wives, Pathfinder; I never knew an old man,
now, who had an objection to a young wife. Then you are
respected and esteemed by every officer in the fort, as I have
said already, and it will please her fancy to like a man that
every one else likes.”
“I hope I have no enemies but the Mingos,” returned the
guide, stroking down his hair meekly, and speaking thoughtfully.
“I 've tried to do right, and that ought to make
friends, though it sometimes fails.”
“And you may be said to keep the best company, for
even old Duncan of Lundie is glad to see you, and you pass
hours in his society. Of all the guides, he confides most
in you.”
“Ay, even greater than he is, have marched by my side
for days, and have conversed with me as if I were their
brother; but, serjeant, I have never been puffed up by their
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company, for I know that the woods often bring men to a
level, who would not be so in the settlements.”
“And you are known to be the greatest rifle-shot that ever
pulled trigger in all this region.”
“If Mabel could fancy a man for that, I might have no
great reason to despair; and yet, serjeant, I sometimes think
that it is all as much owing to Killdeer, as to any skill of my
own. It is sartainly a wonderful piece, and might do as
much in the hands of another!”
“That is your own humble opinion of yourself, Pathfinder,
but we have seen too many fail with the same weapon,
and you succeed too often with the rifles of other men, to allow
me to agree with you. We will get up a shooting match, in
a day or two, when you can show your skill, and then Mabel
will form some judgment concerning your true character.”
“Will that be fair, serjeant? Everybody knows that
Killdeer seldom misses, and ought we to make a trial of
this sort, when we all know what must be the result?”
“Tut—tut, man; I forsee I must do half this courting
for you. For one who is always inside of the smoke, in
a skirmish, you are the faintest-hearted suitor I ever met
with. Remember Mabel comes of a bold stock; and the girl
will be as likely to admire a man, as her mother was before
her.”
Here the serjeant arose, and proceeded to attend to his
never-ceasing duties, without apology; the terms on which
the guide stood with all in the garrison, rendering this freedom
quite a matter of course.
The reader will have gathered from the conversation just
related, one of the plans that Serjeant Dunham had in view,
in causing his daughter to be brought to the frontier. Although,
necessarily, much weaned from the caresses and
blandishments that had rendered his child so dear to him,
during the first year or two of his widowerhood, he had
still a strong, but somewhat latent, love for her. Accustomed
to command and to obey, without being questioned
himself, or questioning others, concerning the reasonableness
of the mandates, he was, perhaps, too much disposed to believe
that his daughter would marry the man he might select,
while he was far from being disposed to do violence to her
wishes. The fact was, few knew the Pathfinder, intimately,
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without secretly coming to believe him to be one of extraordinary
qualities. Ever the same, simple-minded, faithful,
utterly without fear, and yet prudent, foremost in all warrantable
enterprises, or what the opinion of the day considered
as such, and never engaged in anything to call a blush
to his cheek, or censure on his acts; it was not possible to
live much with this being, who, in his peculiar way, was a
sort of type of what Adam might have been supposed to be
before the fall, though certainly not without sin, and not feel
a respect and admiration for him, that had no reference to
his position in life. It was remarked, that no officer passed
him, without saluting him as if he had been his equal; no
common man, without addressing him with the confidence
and freedom of a comrade. The most surprising peculiarity
about the man himself, was the entire indifference with which
he regarded all distinctions that did not depend on personal
merit. He was respectful to his superiors from habit, but
had often been known to correct their mistakes, and to reprove
their vices, with a fearlessness that proved how essentially
he regarded the more material points, and with a
natural discrimination, that appeared to set education at defiance.
In short, a disbeliever in the ability of man to distinguish
between good and evil, without the aid of instruction,
would have been staggered by the character of this extraordinary
inhabitant of the frontier. His feelings appeared to
possess the freshness and nature of the forest in which he
passed so much of his time; and no casuist could have made
clearer decisions in matters relating to right and wrong; and,
yet, he was not without his prejudices, which, though few,
and coloured by the character and usages of the individual,
were deep-rooted, and had almost got to form a part of his
nature. But the most striking feature about the moral organization
of Pathfinder, was his beautiful and unerring
sense of justice. This noble trait, and without it no man
can be truly great, with it, no man other than respectable,
probably had its unseen influence on all who associated with
him; for the common and unprincipled brawler of the camp
had been known to return from an expedition made in his
company, rebuked by his sentiments, softened by his language,
and improved by his example. As might have been expected,
with so elevated a quality, his fidelity was like the
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immoveable rock. Treachery in him was classed among the things
that are impossible, and as he seldom retired before his enemies,
so was he never known, under any circumstances that
admitted of an alternative, to abandon a friend. The affinities
of such a character were, as a matter of course, those
of like for like. His associates and intimates, though more
or less determined by chance, were generally of the highest
order, as to moral propensities, for he appeared to possess a
species of instinctive discrimination, that led him, insensibly
to himself, most probably, to cling closest to those whose
characters would best reward his friendship. In short, it was
said of the Pathfinder, by one accustomed to study his fellows,
that he was a fair example of what a just-minded and
pure man might be, while untempted by unruly or ambitious
desires, and left to follow the bias of his feelings, amid the
solitary grandeur and ennobling influences of a sublime
nature; neither led aside by the inducements which influence
all to do evil amid the incentives of civilization; nor forgetful
of the Almighty Being, whose spirit pervades the wilderness
as well as the towns.
Such was the man whom Serjeant Dunham had selected
as the husband of Mabel. In making this choice, he had not
been as much governed by a clear and judicious view of the
merits of the individual, perhaps, as by his own likings; still,
no one knew the Pathfinder as intimately as himself, without
always conceding to the honest guide a high place in his esteem,
on account of these very virtues. That his daughter
could find any serious objections to the match, the old soldier
did not apprehend; while, on the other hand, he saw many
advantages to himself, in dim perspective, that were connected
with the decline of his days, and an evening of life passed
among descendants who were equally dear to him through
both parents. He had first made the proposition to his friend,
who had listened to it kindly, but who, the serjeant was now
pleased to find, already betrayed a willingness to come into
his own views, that was proportioned to the doubts and misgivings
proceeding from his humble distrust of himself.
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CHAPTER X.
“Think not I love him, though I ask for him;
'T is but a peevish boy:—yet he talks well—
But what care I for words?”
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A week passed in the usual routine of a garrison. Mabel
was becoming used to a situation that, at first, she had found
not only novel, but a little irksome; and the officers and men,
in their turn, gradually familiarized to the presence of a young
and blooming girl, whose attire and carriage had that air of
modest gentility about them, which she had obtained in the
family of her patroness, annoyed her less by their ill-concealed
admiration, while they gratified her by the respect
which, she was fain to think, they paid her on account of her
father; but which, in truth was more to be attributed to her
own modest, but spirited deportment, than to any deference
for the worthy serjeant.
Acquaintances made in a forest, or in any circumstances
of unusual excitement, soon attain their limits. Mabel found
one week's residence at Oswego, sufficient to determine
her, as to those with whom she might be intimate, and those
whom she ought to avoid. The sort of neutral position occupied
by her father, who was not an officer while he was
so much more than a common soldier, by keeping her aloof
from the two great classes of military life, lessened the number
of those whom she was compelled to know, and made
the duty of decision comparatively easy. Still she soon discovered
that there were a few, even among those that could
aspire to a seat at the commandant's table, who were disposed
to overlook the halbert, for the novelty of a well-turned
figure, and of a pretty, winning face; and by the end of the
first two or three days, she had admirers even among the
gentlemen. The quarter-master, in particular, a middle-aged
soldier, who had more than once tried the blessings of
matrimony already, but was now a widower, was evidently disposed
to increase his intimacy with the serjeant, though their
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duties often brought them together; and the youngsters among
his messmates did not fail to note that this man of method,
who was a Scotsman of the name of Muir, was much more
frequent in his visits to the quarters of his subordinate than
had formerly been his wont. A laugh, or a joke, in honour
of the “serjeant's daughter,” however, limited their strictures;
though “Mabel Dunham” was soon a toast that even
the ensign, or the lieutenant, did not disdain to give.
At the end of the week, Duncan of Lundie sent for Serjeant
Dunham, after evening roll-call, on business of a nature that,
it was understood, required a personal conference. The old
veteran dwelt in a moveable hut, which, being placed on
trucks, he could order to be wheeled about at pleasure,
sometimes living in one part of the area within the fort, and
sometimes in another. On the present occasion, he had
made a halt near the centre, and there he was found by his
subordinate, who was admitted to his presence without any
delay, or dancing attendance in an ante-chamber. In point
of fact, there was very little difference in the quality of the
accommodations allowed to the officers and those allowed to
the men, the former being merely granted the most room;
and Mabel and her father were lodged nearly, if not quite as
well, as the commandant of the place, himself.
“Walk in, serjeant, walk in, my good friend,” said old
Lundie, heartily, as his inferior stood in a respectful attitude
at the door of a sort of library and bed-room into which he
had been ushered;—“walk in, and take a seat on that stool.
I have sent for you, man, to discuss anything but rosters and
pay-rolls, this evening. It is now many years since we have
been comrades, and `auld lang syne' should count for something,
even between a major and his orderly, a Scot and a
Yankee. Sit ye down, man, and just put yourself at your
ease. It has been a fine day, serjeant?”
“It has indeed, Major Duncan,” returned the other, who,
though he complied so far as to take the seat, was much too
practised not to understand the degree of respect it was necessary
to maintain in his manner; “a very fine day, sir, it has
been, and we may look for more of them, at this season.”
“I hope so, with all my heart. The crops look well as
it is, man, and you'll be finding that the 55th make almost
as good farmers as soldiers. I never saw better potatoes in
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Scotland, than we are likely to have in that new patch of
ours.”
“They promise a good yield, Major Duncan, and, in that
light, a more comfertable winter than the last.”
“Life is progressive, serjeant, in its comforts, as well as
in its need of them. We grow old, and I begin to think it
time to retire and settle in life. I feel that my working days
are nearly over.”
“The king, God bless him, sir, has much good service, in
your honour, yet.”
“It may be so, Serjeant Dunham, especially if he should
happen to have a spare lieutenant-colonelcy left.”
“The 55th will be honoured the day that commission is
given to Duncan of Lundie, sir.”
“And Duncan of Lundie will be honoured the day he
receives it. But, serjeant, if you have never had a lieutenant-colonelcy,
you have had a good wife, and that is the next
thing to rank, in making a man happy.”
“I have been married, Major Duncan; but it is now a
long time since I have had no drawback on the love I bear
his majesty and my duty.”
“What, man, not even the love you bear that active,
little, round-limbed, rosy-cheeked daughter, that I have seen
in the fort, these last few days! Out upon you, serjeant!
old fellow as I am, I could almost love that little lassie, myself,
and send the lieutenant-colonelcy to the devil.”
“We all know where Major Duncan's heart is, and that
is in Scotland, where a beautiful lady is ready and willing
to make him happy, as soon as his own sense of duty shall
permit.”
“Ay, hope is ever a far-off thing, serjeant,” returned the
superior, a shade of melancholy passing over his hard Scottish
features as he spoke; “and bonny Scotland is a far-off
country. Well, if we have no heather and oat-meal in this
region, we have venison for the killing it; and salmon as
plenty as at Berwick-upon-Tweed. Is it true, serjeant, that
the men complain of having been over-venisoned, and over-pigeoned,
of late?”
“Not for some weeks, Major Duncan, for neither deer nor
birds are so plenty at this season as they have been. They
begin to throw their remarks about concerning the salmon,
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but I trust we shall get through the summer without any
serious disturbance on the score of food. The Scotch in the
battalion do, indeed, talk more than is prudent of their want
of oat-meal, grumbling occasionally of our wheaten bread.”
“Ah! that is human nature, serjeant; pure unadulterated
Scotch human nature. A cake, man, to say the truth, is an
agreeable morsel, and I often see the time, when I pine for a
bite, myself.”
“If the feeling gets to be troublesome, Major Duncan,—
in the men I mean, sir, for I would not think of saying so
disrespectful a thing to your honour,—but if the men ever
pine seriously for their natural food, I would humbly recommend
that some oat-meal be imported, or prepared in this
country for them, and I think we shall hear no more of it.
A very little would answer for a cure, sir.”
“You are a wag, serjeant; but hang me if I am sure you
are not right. There may be sweeter things in this world,
after all, than oat-meal. You have a sweet daughter, Dunham,
for one.”
“The girl is like her mother, Major Duncan, and will
pass inspection,” said the serjeant, proudly. “Neither was
brought up on anything better than good American flour.
The girl will pass inspection, sir.”
“That would she, I 'll answer for it. Well, I may as well
come to the point at once, man, and bring up my reserve
into the front of the battle. Here is Davy Muir, the quarter-master,
is disposed to make your daughter his wife, and he
has just got me to open the matter to you, being fearful of
compromitting his own dignity—and I may as well add, that
half the youngsters in the fort toast her, and talk of her from
morning till night.”
“She is much honoured, sir,” returned the father, stiffly,
“but I trust the gentlemen will find something more worthy
of them, to talk about, ere long. I hope to see her the wife
of an honest man before many weeks, sir.”
“Yes, Davy is an honest man, and that is more than can
be said for all in the Quarter-Master's department, I 'm thinking,
serjeant,” returned Lundie, with a slight smile. “Well,
then, may I tell the Cupid-stricken youth, that the matter is
as good as settled?”
“I thank your honour, but Mabel is betrothed to another.”
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“The devil she is! That will produce a stir in the fort;
though I 'm not sorry to hear it, either, for to be frank with
you, serjeant, I 'm no great admirer of unequal matches.”
“I think with your honour, and have no desire to see my
daughter an officer's lady. If she can get as high as her
mother was before her, it ought to satisfy any reasonable
woman.”
“And may I ask, serjeant, who is the lucky man that you
intend to call son-in-law?”
“The Pathfinder, your honour.”
“Pathfinder!”
“The same, Major Duncan; and in naming him to you,
I give you his whole history. No one is better known on
this frontier, than my honest, brave, true-hearted friend.”
“All that is true enough; but is he, after all, the sort of
person to make a girl of twenty happy?”
“Why not, your honour? the man is at the head of his
calling. There is no other guide, or scout, connected with
the army, that has half the reputation of Pathfinder, or
who deserves to have it half as well.”
“Very true, serjeant; but is the reputation of a scout, exactly
the sort of renown to captivate a girl's fancy?
“Talking of girls' fancies, sir, is, in my humble opinion,
much like talking of a recruit's judgment. If we were to
take the movements of the awkward squad, sir, as a guide, we
should never form a decent line, in battalion, Major Duncan.”
“But your daughter has nothing awkward about her; for
a genteeler girl, of her class, could not be found in old Albin
itself. Is she of your way of thinking, in this matter?—
though, I suppose she must be, as you say she is betrothed.”
“We have not yet conversed on the subject, your honour;
but I consider her mind as good as made up, from several
little circumstances that might be named.”
“And what are these circumstances, serjeant?” asked the
major, who began to take more interest than he had at first
felt, in the subject. “I confess a little curiosity to know something
about a woman's mind, being, as you know, a bachelor
myself.”
“Why, your honour, when I speak of the Pathfinder to
the girl, she always looks me full in the face; chimes in with
every thing I say in his favour, and has a frank, open way
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with her, which says as much as if she half considered him,
already, as a husband.”
“Hum—and these signs you think, Dunham, are faithful
tokens of your daughter's feelings?”
“I do, your honour, for they strike me as natural. When
I find a man, sir, who looks me full in the face, while he
praises an officer—for, begging your honour's pardon, the
men will sometimes pass their strictures on their betters—and
when I find a man looking me in the eyes, as he praises his
captain, I always set it down that the fellow is honest, and
means what he says.”
“Is there not some material difference in the age of the
intended bridegroom, and that of his pretty bride, serjeant?”
“You are quite right, sir; Pathfinder is well advanced
towards forty, and Mabel has every prospect of happiness
that a young woman can derive from the certainty of possessing
an experienced husband. I was quite forty myself, your
honour, when I married her mother.”
“But, will your daughter be as likely to admire a green
hunting-shirt, such as that our worthy guide wears, with a
fox-skin cap, as the smart uniform of the 55th?”
“Perhaps not, sir; and, therefore, she will have the merit
of self-denial, which always makes a young woman wiser
and better.”
“And are you not afraid that she may be left a widow
while still a young woman? What between wild beasts, and
wilder savages, Pathfinder may be said to carry his life in
his hand.”
“ `Every bullet has its billet,' Lundie,” for so the major
was fond of being called, in his moments of condescension,
and when not engaged in military affairs, “and no man in
the 55th can call himself beyond, or above, the chances of
sudden death. In that particular, Mabel would gain nothing
by a change. Besides, sir, if I may speak freely on such a
subject, I much doubt if ever Pathfinder dies in battle, or by
any of the sudden chances of the wilderness.”
“And why so, serjeant?” asked the major, looking at his
inferior, with the sort of reverence which a Scot of his day,
was more apt than at present to entertain for mysterious
agencies. “He is a soldier, so far as danger is concerned,
and one that is much more than usually exposed, and, being
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free of his person, why should he expect to escape, when
others do not?”
“I do not believe, your honour, that the Pathfinder considers
his own chances, better than any one's else, but the man
will never die by a bullet. I have seen him so often, handling
his rifle with as much composure as if it were a shepherd's
crook, in the midst of the heaviest showers of bullets, and
under so many extraordinary circumstances, that I do not
think Providence means he should ever fall in that manner.
And yet, if there be a man in his Majesty's dominions who
really deserves such a death, it is Pathfinder!”
“We never know, serjeant,” returned Lundie, with a
countenance that was grave with thought, “and the less we
say about it, perhaps, the better. But, will your daughter—
Mabel, I think, you call her—will Mabel be as willing to accept
one, who, after all, is a mere hanger-on of the army, as to
take one from the service itself? There is no hope of promotion
for the guide, serjeant!”
“He is at the head of his corps, already, your honour.
In short, Mabel has made up her mind on this subject, and,
as your honour has had the condescension to speak to me
about Mr. Muir, I trust you will be kind enough to say that
the girl is as good as billeted for life.”
“Well, well, this is your own matter, and, now—Serjeant
Dunham!”
“Your honour,” said the other, rising, and giving the customary
salute.
“You have been told it is my intention to send you down
among the Thousand Islands, for the next month. All the
old subalterns have had their tours of duty in that quarter—
all that I like to trust, at least,—and it has, at length,
come to your turn. Lieutenant Muir, it is true, claims his
right, but being Quarter-Master, I do not like to break up
well-established arrangements. Are the men drafted?”
“Every thing is ready, your honour. The draft is made,
and I understood that the canoe which got in last night,
brought a message to say that the party already below, is
looking out for the relief.”
“It did, and you must sail the day after to-morrow, if not
to-morrow night. It will be wise, perhaps, to sail in the
dark.”
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“So Jasper thinks, Major Duncan, and I know no one
more to be depended on, in such an affair, than young Jasper
Western.”
“Young Jasper Eau-douce!” said Lundie, a slight smile
gathering around his usually stern mouth. “Will that lad
be of your party, serjeant?”
“Your honour will remember that the Scud never quits
port without him.”
“True, but all general rules have their exceptions. Have
I not seen a sea-faring person about the fort within the last
few days?”
“No doubt, your honour; it is Master Cap, a brother-in-law
of mine, who brought my daughter from below.”
“Why not put him in the Scud for this cruise, serjeant,
and leave Jasper behind? Your brother-in-law would like
the variety of a fresh-water cruise, and you would enjoy more
of his company.”
“I intended to ask your honour's permission to take him
along, but he must go as a volunteer. Jasper is too brave a
lad to be turned out of his command without a reason, Major
Duncan; and I 'm afraid brother Cap despises fresh water too
much to do duty on it.”
“Quite right, serjeant, and I leave all this to your own
discretion. Eau-douce must retain his command, on second
thoughts. You intend that Pathfinder shall also be of the
party?”
“If your honour approves of it. There will be service for
both the guides, the Indian as well as the white man.”
“I think you are right. Well, serjeant, I wish you good
luck in the enterprise; and remember the post is to be destroyed
and abandoned when your command is withdrawn.
It will have done its work by that time, or we shall have failed
entirely, and it is too ticklish a position to be maintained unnecessarily.
You can retire.”
Serjeant Dunham gave the customary salute, turned on his
heels, as if they had been pivots, and had got the door nearly
drawn-to after him, when he was suddenly recalled.
“I had forgotten, serjeant, the younger officers have begged
for a shooting match, and to-morrow has been named for the
day. All competitors will be admitted, and the prizes will
be a silver-mounted powder-horn, a leathern flask ditto,”
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reading from a piece of paper, “as I see by the professional jargon
of this bill, and a silk calash for a lady. The latter is
to enable the victor to show his gallantry, by making an
offering of it to her he best loves.”
“All very agreeable, your honour, at least to him that
succeeds. Is the Pathfinder to be permitted to enter?”
“I do not well see how he can be excluded, if he choose
to come forward. Latterly, I have observed that he takes no
share in these sports, probably from a conviction of his own
unequalled skill.”
“That's it, Major Duncan; the honest fellow knows there
is not a man on the frontier who can equal him, and he does
not wish to spoil the pleasure of others. I think we may
trust to his delicacy in anything, sir. Perhaps it may be as
well to let him have his own way.”
“In this instance we must, serjeant. Whether he will be
as successful in all others, remains to be seen. I wish you
good evening, Dunham.”
The serjeant now withdrew, leaving Duncan of Lundie to
his own thoughts. That they were not altogether disagreeable,
was to be inferred from the smiles which occasionally
covered a countenance that was hard and martial in its usual
expression, though there were moments in which all its severe
sobriety prevailed. Half an hour might have passed, when
a tap at the door was answered by a direction to enter. A
middle-aged man, in the dress of an officer, but whose uniform
wanted the usual smartness of the profession, made his appearance,
and was saluted as “Mr. Muir.”
“I have come, sir, at your bidding, to know my fortune,”
said the quarter-master, in a strong Scotch accent, as soon
as he had taken the seat which was proffered to him. “To
say the truth to you, Major Duncan, this girl is making as
much havoc in the garrison, as the French did before Ty; I
never witnessed so general a rout, in so short a time!”
“Surely, Davy, you don't mean to persuade me that your
young and unsophisticated heart, is in such a flame, after one
week's ignition! Why, man, this is worse than the affair in
Scotland, where it was said the heat within was so intense
that it just burnt a hole through your own precious body,
and left a place for all the lassies to peer in at, to see what
the combustible material was worth.”
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“Ye'll have your own way, Major Duncan, and your
father and mother would have theirs before ye, even if the
enemy were in the camp. I see nothing so extraordinar' in
young people's following the bent of their inclinations and
wishes.”
“But you've followed yours so often, Davy, that I should
think, by this time, it had lost the edge of novelty. Including
that informal affair in Scotland, when you were a lad, you've
been married four times already.”
“Only three, major, as I hope to get another wife! I've
not yet had my number; no—no—only three.”
“I'm thinking, Davy, you don't include the first affair, I
mentioned; that, in which there was no parson.”
“And why should I, major? The courts decided that it
was no marriage, and what more could a man want! The
woman took advantage of a slight amorous propensity, that
may be a weakness in my disposition, perhaps, and inveigled
me into a contract that was found to be illegal.”
“If I remember right, Muir, there were thought to be two
sides to that question, in the time of it!”
“It would be but an indifferent question, my dear major,
that had n't two sides to it; and I 've known many that had
three. But the poor woman's dead, and there was no issue,
so nothing came of it, after all. Then I was particularly unfortunate
with my second wife—I say second, major, out of
deference to you, and on the mere supposition that the first
was a marriage at all—but first or second, I was particularly
unfortunate with Jeannie Graham, who died in the first lustrum,
leaving neither chick nor chiel behind her. I do think
if Jeannie had survived I never should have turned my
thoughts towards another wife.”
“But as she did not, you married twice after her death—
and are desirous of doing so a third time.”
“The truth can never justly be gainsayed, Major Duncan,
and I am always ready to avow it. I 'm thinking, Lundie,
you are melancholar', this fine evening?”
“No, Muir, not melancholy absolutely, but a little thoughtful,
I confess. I was looking back to my boyish days, when
I, the laird's son, and you the parson's, roamed about our
native hills, happy and careless boys, taking little heed to the
future; and then have followed some thoughts, that may be
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a little painful, concerning that future, as it has turned out
to be.”
“Surely, Lundie, ye do not complain of your portion of
it. You've risen to be a major, and will soon be a lieutenantcolonel,
if letters tell the truth, while I am just one step higher
than when your honoured father gave me my first commission,
and a poor deevil of a quarter-master.”
“And the four wives?”
“Three, Lundie; three only that were legal, even under
our own liberal and sanctified laws.”
“Well, then, let it be three. Ye know, Davy,” said
Major Duncan, insensibly dropping into the pronunciation
and dialect of his youth, as is much the practice with educated
Scotchmen, as they warm with a subject that comes
near the heart.—“Ye know, Davy, that my own choice has
long been made, and in how anxious and hope-wearied a
manner, I 've waited for that happy hour when I can call the
woman I 've so long loved a wife; and, here, have you,
without fortune, name, birth, or merit; I mean particular
merit—”
“Na—na—dinna say that, Lundie — the Muirs are of
gude bluid.”
“Well, then, without aught but bluid, ye 've wived four
times—”
“I tall ye, but thrice, Lundie. Ye 'll weaken auld friendship,
if ye call it four.”
“Put it at ye'r own number, Davy; and its far more than
ye'r share. Our lives have been very different on the score
of matrimony, at least; you must allow that, my old friend.”
“And which do you think has been the gainer, major,
speaking as frankly the'gither, as we did when lads.”
“Nay, I 've nothing to conceal. My days have passed in
hope deferred, while yours have passed in—”
“Not in hope realized, I give you mine honour, Major
Duncan,” interrupted the quarter-master. “Each new experiment
I have thought might prove an advantage, but disappointment
seems the lot of man!—Ah! this is a vain world
of ours, Lundie, it must be owned; and in nothing vainer
than in matrimony.”
“And yet you are ready to put your neck into the noose
for the fifth time?”
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“I desire to say, it will be but the fourth, Major Duncan,”
said the quarter-master, positively; then, instantly changing
the expression of his face to one of boyish rapture, he added—
“But this Mabel Dunham is a rara avis! Our Scotch
lassies are fair and pleasant, but it must be owned these colonials
are of surpassing comeliness.”
“You will do well to recollect your commission and blood,
Davy: I believe all four of your wives—”
“I wish, my dear Lundie, ye 'd be more accurate in your
arithmetic—three times one, make three.”
“All three, then, were what might be termed gentlewomen.”
“That 's just it, major. Three were gentlewomen, as you
say, and the connections were suitable.”
“And the fourth being the daughter of my father's gardener,
the connection was unsuitable. But have you no fear
that marrying the child of a non-commissioned officer who
is in the same corps with yourself, will have the effect to
lessen your consequence in the regiment?”
“That 's just been my weakness through life, Major Duncan;
for I 've always married without regard to consequences.
Every man has his besetting sin, and matrimony,
I fear, is mine. And, now that we have discussed what may
be called the principles of the connection, I will just ask, if
you did me the favour to speak to the serjeant on the trifling
affair?”
“I did, David; and am sorry to say for your hopes, that
I see no great chance of your succeeding.”
“Not succeeding!—An officer, and a quarter-master, in
the bargain, and not succeed with a serjeant's daughter!”
“It 's just that, Davy.”
“And why not, Lundie?—will you have the goodness to
answer just that?”
“The girl is betrothed. Hand plighted, word passed, love
pledged—no, hang me if I believe that, either; but she is
betrothed.”
“Well that 's an obstacle, it must be avowed, major,
though it counts for little, if the heart is free.”
“Quite true, and I think it probable the heart is free, in this
case; for the intended husband appears to be the choice of
the father, rather than of the daughter.”
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“And who may it be, major?” asked the quarter-master,
who viewed the whole matter with the philosophy and coolness
that are acquired by use. “I do not recollect any plausible
suitor, that is likely to stand in my way.”
“No, you are the only plausible suitor on the frontier,
Davy. The happy man is Pathfinder.”
“Pathfinder, Major Duncan?”
“No more, nor any less, David Muir. Pathfinder is the
man; but it may relieve your jealousy a little, to know that,
in my judgment at least, it is a match of the father's, rather
than of the daughter's seeking.”
“I thought as much!” exclaimed the quarter-master,
drawing a long breath, like one who felt relieved; “it 's
quite impossible, that with my experience in human nature—”
“Particularly hu-woman's nature, David!”
“Ye will have ye'r joke, Lundie, let who will suffer! But
I did not think it possible I could be deceived as to the young
woman's inclinations, which I think I may boldly pronounce
to be altogether above the condition of Pathfinder. As for
the individual himself—why, time will show.”
“Now, tell me frankly, Davy Muir,” said Lundie, stopping
short in his walk, and looking the other earnestly in the
face, with a comical expression of surprise, that rendered the
veteran's countenance ridiculously earnest—“do you really
suppose, a girl like the daughter of Serjeant Dunham, can
take a serious fancy to a man of your years, and appearance,
and experience, I might add?”
“Hout, awa', Lundie, ye dinna know the sax, and that 's
the reason ye'r unmarried in ye'r forty-fifth year. It 's a
fearfu' time ye've been a bachelor, Major!”
“And what may be your age, Lieutenant Muir, if I may
presume to ask so delicate a question?”
“Forty-seven; I 'll no deny it, Lundie; and if I get Mabel,
there 'll be just a wife for every twa lustrums! But I did'na
think Serjeant Dunham would be so humble-minded, as to
dream of giving that sweet lass of his to one like the Pathfinder!”
“There 's no dream about it, Davy; the man is as serious
as a soldier about to be flogged.”
“Well, well, major, we are auld friends,”—both ran into
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the Scotch, or avoided it, as they approached or drew away
from their younger days, in the dialogue,—“and ought to
know how to take and give a joke, off duty. It is possible
the worthy man has not understood my hints, or he never
would have thought of such a thing. The difference between
an officer's consort, and a guide's woman, is as vast as that
between the antiquity of Scotland, and the antiquity of America.
I 'm auld bluid, too, Lundie.”
“Take my word for it, Davy, your antiquity will do you
no good, in this affair; and as for your blood, it is not
older than your bones. Well, well, man, ye know the serjeant's
answer, and so you perceive that my influence, on
which you counted so much, can do nought for ye. Let us
take a glass the'gither, Davy, for auld acquaintance sake;
and then ye 'll be doing well to remember the party that
marches the morrow, and to forget Mabel Dunham as fast as
ever you can.”
“Ah! major, I have always found it easier to forget a
wife, than to forget a sweetheart! When a couple are fairly
married, all is settled but the death, as one may say, which
must finally part us all; and it seems to me awfu' irreverent
to disturb the departed; whereas, there is so much anxiety,
and hope, and felicity, in expectation like, with the lassie,
that it keeps thought alive.”
“That is just my idea of your situation, Davy, for I never
supposed you expected any more felicity with either of your
wives. Now, I 've heard of fellows who were so stupid as
to look forward to happiness with their wives, even beyond
the grave. I drink to your success, or to your speedy recovery
from this attack, lieutenant; and I admonish you to
be more cautious in future, as some of these violent cases
may yet carry you off.”
“Many thanks, dear major; and a speedy termination to
an old courtship, of which I know something. This is real
mountain-dew, Lundie, and it warms the heart like a gleam
of bonny Scotland. As for the men you 've just mentioned,
they could have had but one wife a-piece, for where there are
several, the deeds of the women, themselves, may carry
them different ways. I think a reasonable husband ought to
be satisfied with passing his allotted time with any particular
wife, in this world, and not to go about moping for things
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unattainable. I 'm infinitely obliged to you, Major Duncan,
for this and all your other acts of friendship; and if you
could but add another, I should think you had not altogether
forgotten the play-fellow of your boyhood.”
“Well, Davy, if the request be reasonable, and such as a
superior ought to grant, out with it, man.”
“If ye could only contrive a little service for me, down
among the Thousand Isles, for a fortnight, or so, I think this
matter might be settled to the satisfaction of all parties. Just
remember, Lundie, the lassie is the only marriageable white
female on this frontier!”
“There is always duty for one in your line, at a post,
however small; but this below can be done by the serjeant as
well as by the Quarter-Master General, and better too.”
“But not better than by a regimental officer. There is
great waste, in common, among the orderlies.”
“I 'll think of it, Muir,” said the major, laughing, “and
you shall have my answer in the morning. Here will be a
fine occasion, man, the morrow, to show yourself off before
the lady; you are expert with the rifle, and prizes are to be
won. Make up your mind to display your skill, and who
knows what may yet happen before the Scud sails.”
“I 'm thinking most of the young men will try their hands
in this sport, major?”
“That will they, and some of the old ones, too, if you
appear. To keep you in countenance, I 'll try a shot or two
myself, Davy; and you know I have some name that way.”
“It might, indeed, do good! The female heart, Major
Duncan, is susceptible in many different modes, and sometimes
in a way that the rules of philosophy might reject.
Some require a suitor to sit down before them, as it might
be, in a regular siege, and only capitulate when the place can
hold out no longer; others again like to be carried by storm;
while there are hussies who can only be caught by leading
them into an ambush. The former is the most creditable and
officer-like process, perhaps; but I must say, I think the last
the most pleasing.”
“An opinion formed from experience, out of all question.
And what of the storming parties?”
“They may do for younger men, Lundie,” returned the
quarter-master, rising and winking, a liberty that he often
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took with his commanding officer, on the score of a long intimacy;
“every period of life has its necessities, and at forty-seven
it's just as well to trust a little to the head. I wish
you a very good even, Major Duncan, and freedom from gout,
with a sweet and refreshing sleep.”
“The same to yourself, Mr. Muir, with many thanks. Remember
the passage of arms for the morrow.”
The Quarter-Master withdrew, leaving Lundie in his library
to reflect on what had just passed. Use had so accustomed
Major Duncan to Lieutenant Muir, and all his traits and humours,
that the conduct of the latter did not strike the former
with the same force, as it will probably the reader. In truth,
while all men act under one common law that is termed nature,
the varieties in their dispositions, modes of judging,
feelings, and selfishness, are infinite.
CHAPTER XI.
“Compel the hawke, to sit that is unmann'd,
Or make the hound, untaught, to draw the deere,
Or bring the free against his will in band,
Or move the sad, a pleasant tale to heere,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the neere!
So love ne learnes, of force the heart to knit:
She serves but those, that feel sweet fancies' fit.”
Mirror for Magistrates.
It is not often that hope is rewarded by fruition, as completely
as the wishes of the young men of the garrison were
met by the state of the weather, on the succeeding day. It
may be no more than the ordinary waywardness of man, but
the Americans are a little accustomed to taking pride in things,
that the means of intelligent companions would probably show
were, in reality, of a very inferior quality; while they overlook,
or undervalue advantages that place them certainly on
a level with, if not above most of their fellow-creatures.
Among the latter is the climate, which, as a whole, though
far from perfect, is infinitely more agreeable, and quite as
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healthy, as those of most of the countries which are loudest
in their denunciations of it.
The heats of summer were little felt at Oswego, at the period
of which we are writing, for the shade of the forest, added
to the refreshing breezes from the lake, so far reduced
the influence of the sun, as to render the nights always cool,
and the days seldom oppressive.
It was now September, a month in which the strong gales
of the coast often appear to force themselves across the country
as far as the great lakes, where the inland sailor sometimes
feels that genial influence which characterizes the winds
of the ocean; invigorating his frame, cheering his spirits, and
arousing his moral force. Such a day was that on which
the garrison of Oswego assembled, to witness what its commander
had jocularly called a “passage of arms.” Lundie
was a scholar, in military matters at least, and it was one
of his sources of honest pride to direct the reading and thoughts
of the young men under his orders, to the more intellectual
parts of their profession. For one in his situation, his library
was both good and extensive, and its books were freely lent
to all who desired to use them. Among other whims that had
found their way into the garrison, through these means, was
a relish for the sort of amusement in which it was now about
to indulge; and around which, some chronicles of the days
of chivalry had induced them to throw a parade and romance,
that were not unsuited to the characters and habits of soldiers,
or to the insulated and wild post, occupied by this particular
garrison. While so earnestly bent on pleasure, however,
they on whom that duty devolved did not neglect the safety
of the garrison. One standing on the ramparts of the fort,
and gazing on the waste of glittering water that bounded the
view all along the northern horizon, and on the slumbering
and seemingly boundless forest, that filled the other half of
the panorama, would have fancied the spot the very abode of
peacefulness and security; but Duncan of Lundie too well
knew that the woods might at any moment give up their hundreds,
bent on the destruction of the fort and all it contained;
and that even the treacherous lake offered a highway of easy
approach, by which his more civilized, and scarcely less wily
foes, the French, could come upon him, at an unwelcome
and unguarded moment. Parties were sent out, under old
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and vigilant officers, men who cared little for the sports of
the day, to scour the forest; and one entire company held the
fort, under arms, with orders to maintain a vigilance as strict
as if an enemy of superior force was known to be near.
With these precautions the remainder of the officers and men
abandoned themselves, without apprehension, to the business
of the morning.
The spot selected for the sports, was a sort of esplanade,
a little west of the fort, and on the immediate bank of the
lake. It had been cleared of its trees and stumps, that it
might answer the purpose of a parade-ground, as it possessed
the advantages of having its rear protected by the water, and
one of its flanks by the works. Men drilling on it, could be
attacked, consequently, on two sides only, and as the cleared
space beyond it, in the direction of the west and south, was
large, any assailants would be compelled to quit the cover of
the woods, before they could make an approach sufficiently
near to render them dangerous.
Although the regular arms of the regiment were muskets,
some fifty rifles were produced on the present occasion.
Every officer had one, as a part of his private provision for
amusement; many belonged to the scouts and friendly Indians,
of whom more or less were always hanging about the fort;
and there was a public provision of them, for the use of those
who followed the game with the express object of obtaining
supplies. Among those who carried the weapon, were some
five or six, who had reputations for knowing how to use it
particularly well—so well, indeed, as to have given them a
celebrity on the frontier,—twice that number who were believed
to be much better than common; and many who
would have been thought expert, in almost any situation, but
the precise one in which they now happened to be placed.
The distance was a hundred yards, and the weapon was
to be used without a rest; the target, a board, with the customary
circular lines in white paint, having the bull's-eye
in the centre. The first trials in skill commenced with
challenges among the more ignoble of the competitors, to
display their steadiness and dexterity in idle competition. None
but the common men engaged in this strife, which had little
to interest the spectators, among whom no officer had yet
appeared.
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Most of the soldiers were Scotch, the regiment having been
raised at Stirling and its vicinity, not many years before,
though, as in the case of Serjeant Dunham, many Americans
had joined it, since its arrival in the colonies. As a matter
of course, the provincials were generally the most expert
marksmen, and after a desultory trial of half an hour, it was
necessarily conceded, that a youth, who had been born in
the colony of New York, and who, coming of Dutch extraction,
bore the euphonious name of Van Valtenburg, but
was familiarly called Follock, was the most expert of all
who had yet tried their skill. It was just as this opinion
prevailed, that the oldest captain, accompanied by most of
the gentlemen and ladies of the fort, appeared on the parade.
A train of some twenty females of humbler condition followed,
among whom was seen the well-turned form, intelligent,
blooming, animated countenance, and neat, becoming attire
of Mabel Dunham.
Of females who were officially recognised as belonging to
the class of ladies, there were but three in the fort, all of
whom were officers' wives; staid matronly women, with the
simplicity of the habits of middle life, singularly mixed in
their deportment, with their notions of professional superiority,
the rights and duties of caste, and the etiquette of rank. The
other women were the wives of non-commissioned officers
and privates; Mabel being strictly, as had been stated by the
Quarter-Master, the only real candidate for matrimony among
her sex. There were a dozen other girls, it is true, but they
were still classed among the children, none of them being
yet of an age to elevate them into objects of legitimate admiration.
Some little preparation had been made for the proper reception
of the females, who were placed on a low staging of
planks, near the immediate bank of the lake. In this vicinity
the prizes were suspended from a post. Great care was
taken to reserve the front seat of the stage, for the three
ladies and their children; while Mabel, and those who belonged
to the non-commissioned officers of the regiment, occupied
the second. The wives and daughters of the privates
were huddled together in the rear, some standing, and some
sitting, as they could find room. Mabel, who had already
been admitted to the society of the officers' wives, on the
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footing of an humble companion, was a good deal noticed by the
ladies in front, who had a proper appreciation of modest self-respect
and gentle refinement, though they were all fully
aware of the value of rank, more particularly in a garrison.
As soon as this important portion of the spectators had got
into their places, Lundie gave orders for the trial of skill to
proceed, in the manner that had been prescribed in his previous
orders. Some eight or ten of the best marksmen of
the garrison now took possession of the stand, and began to
fire in succession. Among them were officers and men indiscriminately
placed, nor were the casual visiters in the fort
excluded from the competition. As might have been expected
of men, whose amusements and comfortable subsistence
equally depended on skill in the use of their weapons, it was
soon found that they were all sufficiently expert to hit the
bull's-eye, or the white spot in the centre of the target.
Others, who succeeded them, it is true, were less sure, their
bullets striking in the different circles that surrounded the
centre of the target, without touching it.
According to the rules of the day, none could proceed to
the second trial who had failed in the first, and the adjutant
of the place, who acted as master of the ceremonies, or marshal
of the day, called upon the successful adventurers by
name, to get ready for the next effort, while he gave notice
that those who failed to present themselves for the shot at
the bull's-eye, would necessarily be excluded from all the
higher trials. Just at this moment, Lundie, the Quarter-Master,
and Jasper Eau-douce appeared in the group at the stand,
while the Pathfinder walked leisurely on the ground, without
his beloved rifle, for him a measure so unusual as to be understood
by all present, as a proof that he did not consider himself
a competitor for the honours of the day. All made way
for Major Duncan, who, as he approached the stand, in a
good-humoured way took his station, levelled his rifle carelessly,
and fired. The bullet missed the required mark by
several inches.
“Major Duncan is excluded from the other trials!” proclaimed
the adjutant, in a voice so strong and confident, that
all the elder officers and the serjeants well understood that
this failure was preconcerted, while all the younger gentlemen
and the privates felt new encouragement to proceed, on
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account of the evident impartiality with which the laws of
the sports were administered, nothing being so attractive to
the unsophisticated as the appearance of rigorous justice, and
nothing so rare as its actual administration.
“Now, Master Eau-douce, comes your turn,” said Muir,
“and if you do not beat the major, I shall say that your hand
is better skilled with the oar, than with the rifle.”
Jasper's handsome face flushed, he stepped upon the stand,
cast a hasty glance at Mabel, whose pretty form he ascertained
was bending eagerly forward, as if to note the result,
dropped the barrel of his rifle, with but little apparent care,
into the palm of his left hand, raised the muzzle for a single
instant, with exceeding steadiness, and fired. The bullet
passed directly through the centre of the bull's-eye, much the
best shot of the morning, since the others had merely touched
the paint.
“Well performed, Master Jasper,” said Muir, as soon as
the result was declared; “and a shot that might have done
credit to an older head and a more experienced eye. I 'm
thinking, notwithstanding, there was some of a youngster's
luck in it, for ye were no partic'lar in the aim ye took. Ye
may be quick, Eau-douce, in the movement, but ye'r not
philosophic, nor scientific in ye'r management of the weepon.
Now, Serjeant Dunham, I'll thank you to request the ladies
to give a closer attention than common, for I'm about to
make that use of the rifle which may be called the intellectual.
Jasper would have killed, I allow; but then there would not
have been half the satisfaction in receiving such a shot, as in
receiving one that is discharged scientifically.”
All this time, the Quarter-Master was preparing himself
for the scientific trial; but he delayed his aim until he saw
that the eye of Mabel, in common with those of her companions,
was fastened on him in curiosity. As the others left
him room, out of respect to his rank, no one stood near the
competitor but his commanding officer, to whom he now said,
in his familiar manner—
“Ye see, Lundie, that something is to be gained by exciting
a female's curiosity. It 's an active sentiment, is
curiosity, and properly improved may lead to gentler innovations
in the end.”
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“Very true, Davy; but ye keep us all waiting while ye
make your preparations; and here is Pathfinder drawing
near to catch a lesson from your greater experience.”
“Well, Pathfinder, and so you have come to get an idea
too, concerning the philosophy of shooting! I do not wish to
hide my light under a bushel, and ye'r welcome to all ye' ll
learn. Do ye no mean to try a shot, yersel', man?”
“Why should I, Quarter-Master—why should I? I want
none of the prizes; and as for honour, I have had enough of
that, if it 's any honour to shoot better than yourself. I 'm
not a woman to wear a calash.”
“Very true; but ye might find a woman that is precious
in your eyes, to wear it for ye, as—”
“Come, Davy,” interrupted the major, “your shot, or a
retreat. The adjutant is getting to be impatient.”
“The Quarter-Master's department, and the adjutant's department,
are seldom compliable, Lundie; but I 'm ready—
stand a little aside, Pathfinder, and give the ladies an opportunity.”
Lieutenant Muir now took his attitude, with a good deal
of studied elegance, raised his rifle slowly, lowered it, raised
it again, repeated the manœuvres, and fired.
“Missed the target altogether!” shouted the man, whose
duty it was to mark the bullets, and who had little relish for
the Quarter-Master's tedious science. “Missed the target!”
“It cannot be!” cried Muir, his face flushing equally with
indignation and shame; “it cannot be, adjutant; for I never
did so awkward a thing in my life. I appeal to the ladies
for a juster judgment.”
“The ladies shut their eyes when you fired,” exclaimed
the regimental wags.—“Your preparations alarmed them.”
“I will na believe such a calumny of the leddies, nor sic'
a reproach on my own skill,” returned the Quarter-Master,
growing more and more Scotch, as he warmed with his feelings;
“it 's a conspiracy to rob a meritorious man of his
dues.”
“It 's a dead miss, Muir,” said the laughing Lundie, “and
ye 'll jist sit down quietly with the disgrace.”
“No—no—major,” Pathfinder at length observed, “the
Quarter-Master is a good shot, for a slow one, and a
measured distance; though nothing extr'ornary, for real
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service. He has covered Jasper's bullet, as will be seen, if anyone
will take the trouble to examine the target.”
The respect for Pathfinder's skill, and for his quickness
and accuracy of sight, was so profound and general, that the
instant he made this declaration, the spectators began to distrust
their own opinions, and a dozen rushed to the target,
in order to ascertain the fact. There, sure enough, it was
found that the Quarter-Master's bullet had gone through the
hole made by Jasper's, and that too, so accurately, as to require
a minute examination to be certain of the circumstance;
which, however, was soon clearly established, by discovering
one bullet over the other, in the stump against which the
target was placed.
“I told ye, ladies, ye were about to witness the influence
of science on gunnery,” said the Quarter-Master, advancing
towards the staging occupied by the females. “Major Duncan
derides the idea of mathematics entering into target shooting;
but I tell him, philosophy colours, and enlarges, and
improves, and dilates, and explains, everything that belongs
to human life, whether it be a shooting-match, or a sermon.
In a word, philosophy is philosophy, and that is saying all
that the subject requires.”
“I trust you exclude love from the catalogue,” observed
the wife of a captain, who knew the history of the Quarter-Master's
marriages, and who had a woman's malice against
the monopolizer of her sex—“it seems that philosophy has
little in common with love.”
“You wouldn't say that, madam, if your heart had experienced
many trials. It 's the man, or the woman that has
had many occasions to improve the affections, that can best
speak of such matters; and, believe me, of all love, philosophical
is the most lasting, as it is the most rational.”
“You would then recommend experience as an improvement
on the passion?”
“Your quick mind has conceived the idea at a glance.
The happiest marriages are those in which youth, and beauty,
and confidence on one side, rely on the sagacity, moderation
and prudence of years—middle age, I mean, madam, for I 'll
no deny that there is such a thing as a husband's being too
old for a wife. Here is Serjeant Dunham's charming daughter,
now, to approve of such sentiments, I 'm certain,—her
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character for discretion being already well established in the
garrison, short as has been her residence among us.”
“Serjeant Dunham's daughter is scarcely a fitting interlocutor
in a discourse between you and me, Lieutenant Muir,”
rejoined the captain's lady, with careful respect for her own
dignity,—“and yonder is the Pathfinder about to take his
chance, by way of changing the subject.”
“I protest, Major Duncan, I protest—” cried Muir, hurrying
back towards the stand, with both arms elevated by
way of enforcing his words—“I protest, in the strongest
terms, gentlemen, against Pathfinder's being admitted into
these sports with Killdeer, which is a piece, to say nothing
of long habit, that is altogether out of proportion, for a trial
of skill against government rifles.”
“Killdeer is taking its rest, Quarter-Master,” returned
Pathfinder, calmly, “and no one here thinks of disturbing it.
I did not think, myself, of pulling a trigger to-day, but Serjeant
Dunham has been persuading me that I shall not do
proper honour to his handsome daughter, who came in under
my care, if I am backward on such an occasion. I 'm using
Jasper's rifle, Quarter-Master, as you may see, and that is
no better than your own.”
Lieutenant Muir was now obliged to acquiesce, and every
eye turned towards the Pathfinder, as he took the required station.
The air and attitude of this celebrated guide and hunter,
were extremely fine, as he raised his tall form, and levelled
the piece, showing perfect self-command, and a thorough
knowledge of the power of the human frame, as well as of
the weapon. Pathfinder was not what is usually termed a
handsome man, though his appearance excited so much confidence,
and commanded respect. Tall, and even muscular,
his frame might have been esteemed nearly perfect, were it
not for the total absence of every thing like flesh. Whip-cord
was scarcely more rigid than his arms and legs, or, at need,
more pliable; but the outlines of his person were rather too
angular for the proportion that the eye most approves. Still,
his motions being natural, were graceful, and being calm and
regulated, they gave him an air of dignity that associated well
with the idea, that was so prevalent, of his services and peculiar
merits. His honest, open features were burnt to a bright
red, that comported well with the notion of exposure and
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hardships, while his sinewy hands denoted force, and a species of
use that was removed from the stiffening and deforming effects
of labour. Although no one perceived any of those
gentler, or more insinuating qualities, which are apt to win
upon a woman's affections, as he raised his rifle, not a female
eye was fastened on him, without a silent approbation of the
freedom of his movements, and the manliness of his air.
Thought was scarcely quicker than his aim, and, as the
smoke floated above his head, the breech of the rifle was
seen on the ground, the hand of the Pathfinder was leaning
on the barrel, and his honest countenance was illuminated by
his usual silent, hearty laugh.
“If one dared to hint at such a thing,” cried Major Duncan,
“I should say that the Pathfinder had also missed the target!”
“No—no—major,” returned the guide, confidently, “that
would be a risky declaration. I did n't load the piece, and
can 't say what was in it; but if it was lead, you will find
the bullet driving down those of the quarter-master's and
Jasper's; else is not my name Pathfinder.”
A shout from the target announced the truth of this assertion.
“That's not all—that's not all, boys,” called out the guide,
who was now slowly advancing towards the stage occupied
by the females—“if you find the target touched at all, I 'll
own to a miss. The Quarter-Master cut the wood, but you 'll
find no wood cut, by that last messenger.”
“Very true, Pathfinder, very true,” answered Muir, who
was lingering near Mabel, though ashamed to address her
particularly, in the presence of the officers' wives. “The
Quarter-Master did cut the wood, and by that means he
opened a passage for your bullet, which went through the
hole he had made.”
“Well, Quarter-Master, there goes the nail, and we 'll see
who can drive it closest, you or I; for, though I did not
think of showing what a rifle can do to-day, now my hand
is in, I' ll turn my back to no man that carries King George's
commission. Chingachgook is outlying, or he might force
me into some of the niceties of the art; but as for you, Quarter-Master,
if the nail don't stop you, the potatoe will.”
“You 're over-boastful this morning, Pathfinder; but you 'll
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find you 've no green boy, fresh from the settlements and the
towns, to deal with, I will assure ye!”
“I know that well, Quarter-Master; I know that well, and
shall not deny your experience. You 've lived many years
on the frontiers, and I've heard of you, in the colonies, and
among the Indians, too, quite a human life ago.”
“Na—na—” interrupted Muir, in his broadest Scotch,
“this is injustice, man. I 've no lived so very long, neither.”
“I 'll do you justice, lieutenant, even if you get the best in
the potatoe trial. I say you 've passed a good human life, for
a soldier, in places where the rifle is daily used, and I know
you are a creditable and ingenious marksman; but then you
are not a true rifle-shooter. As for boasting, I hope I 'm not
a vain talker about my own exploits; but a man's gifts are
his gifts, and it 's flying in the face of Providence to deny
them. The serjeant's daughter, here, shall judge between
us, if you have the stomach to submit to so pretty a judge.”
The Pathfinder had named Mabel as the arbiter, because
he admired her, and because, in his eyes, rank had little or
no value; but Lieutenant Muir shrunk at such a reference in
the presence of the wives of the officers. He would gladly
keep himself constantly before the eyes and the imagination
of the object of his wishes; but he was still too much under
the influence of old prejudices, and perhaps too wary, to appear
openly as her suitor, unless he saw something very like
a certainty of success. On the discretion of Major Duncan
he had a full reliance, and he apprehended no betrayal from
that quarter; but he was quite aware, should it ever get
abroad that he had been refused by the child of a non-commissioned
officer, he would find great difficulty in making
his approaches to any other woman of a condition to which
he might reasonably aspire. Notwithstanding these doubts
and misgivings, Mabel looked so prettily, blushed so charmingly,
smiled so sweetly, and altogether presented so winning
a picture of youth, spirit, modesty and beauty, that he found
it exceedingly tempting, to be kept so prominently before her
imagination, and to be able to address her freely.
“You shall have it your own way, Pathfinder,” he answered
as soon as his doubts had settled down into determination—
“Let the serjeant's daughter—his charming daughter,
I should have termed her—be the umpire then; and to her
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we will both dedicate the prize, that one or the other must
certainly win. Pathfinder must be humoured, ladies, as you
perceive, else, no doubt, we should have had the honour to
submit ourselves to one of your charming society.”
A call for the competitors, now drew the Quarter-Master
and his adversary away; and in a few moments the second
trial of skill commenced. A common wrought nail was
driven lightly into the target, its head having been first touched
with paint, and the marksman was required to hit it, or he
lost his chances in the succeeding trials. No one was permitted
to enter, on this occasion, who had already failed in
the essay against the bull's-eye.
There might have been half a dozen aspirants for the
honours of this trial; one or two who had barely succeeded
in touching the spot of paint, in the previous strife, preferring
to rest their reputations there; feeling certain that they could
not succeed in the greater effort that was now exacted of
them. The three first adventurers failed, all coming quite
near the mark, but neither touching it. The fourth person
who presented himself was the Quarter-Master, who, after
going through his usual attitudes, so far succeeded as to
carry away a small portion of the head of the nail, planting
his bullet by the side of its point. This was not considered
an extraordinary shot, though it brought the adventurer within
the category.
“You 've saved your bacon, Quarter-Master, as they say
in the settlements of their creatur's,” cried Pathfinder, laughing,
“but it would take a long time to build a house with a
hammer no better than yours. Jasper, here, will show you
how a nail is to be started, or the lad has lost some of his
steadiness of hand, and sartainty of eye. You would have
done better yourself, lieutenant, had you not been so much
bent on soldierizing your figure. Shooting is a natural gift,
and is to be exercised in a natural way.”
“We shall see, Pathfinder; I call that a pretty attempt at
a nail; and I doubt if the 55th has another hammer, as you
call it, that can do just that same thing, over again.”
“Jasper is not in the 55th, but there goes his rap!”
As the Pathfinder spoke, the bullet of Eau-douce hit the
nail square, and drove it into the target, within an inch of
the head.
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“Be all ready to clench it, boys,” cried out Pathfinder,
stepping into his friend's tracks, the instant they were vacant.
“Never mind a new nail; I can see that, though the paint
is gone, and what I can see, I can hit, at a hundred yards,
though it were only a mosquitoe's eye. Be ready to clench!”
The rifle cracked, the bullet sped its way, and the head of
the nail was buried in the wood, covered by the piece of
flattened lead.
“Well, Jasper, lad,” continued Pathfinder, dropping the
breech of his rifle to the ground, and resuming the discourse,
as if he thought nothing of his own exploit, “you improve
daily. A few more tramps on land, in my company, and the
best marksman on the frontiers will have occasion to look
keenly, when he takes his stand ag'in you. The Quarter-Master
is respectable, but he will never get any farther;
whereas you, Jasper, have the gift, and may one day defy
any who pull trigger.”
“Hoot—hoot!” exclaimed Muir, “do you call hitting the
head of the nail respectable only, when it's the perfection of
the art! Any one, in the least refined and elevated in sentiment,
knows that the delicate touches denote the master;
whereas your sledge-hammer blows come from the rude and
uninstructed. If `a miss is as good as a mile,' a hit ought
to be better, Pathfinder, whether it wound or kill.”
“The surest way of settling this rivalry, will be to make
another trial,” observed Lundie, “and that will be of the potatoe.
You 're Scotch, Mr. Muir, and might fare better were
it a cake, or a thistle; but frontier law has declared for the
American fruit, and the potatoe it shall be.”
As Major Duncan manifested some impatience of manner,
Muir had too much tact to delay the sports any longer, with
his discursive remarks, but judiciously prepared himself for
the next appeal. To say the truth, the Quarter-Master had
little or no faith in his own success, in the trial of skill that
was to follow, nor would he have been so free in presenting
himself as a competitor, at all, had he anticipated it would
have been made; but Major Duncan, who was somewhat of
a humourist, in his own quiet Scotch way, had secretly
ordered it to be introduced, expressly to mortify him; for, a
laird himself, Lundie did not relish the notion that one who
might claim to be a gentleman, should bring discredit on his
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caste, by forming an unequal alliance. As soon as every
thing was prepared, Muir was summoned to the stand, and
the potatoe was held in readiness to be thrown. As the sort
of feat we are about to offer to the reader, however, may be
new to him, a word in explanation will render the matter
more clear. A potatoe, of large size, was selected, and given
to one, who stood at the distance of twenty yards from the
stand. At the word “heave,” which was given by the
marksman, the vegetable was thrown, with a gentle toss, into
the air, and it was the business of the adventurer to cause a
ball to pass through it, before it reached the ground.
The Quarter-Master, in a hundred experiments, had once
succeeded in accomplishing this difficult feat, but he now essayed
to perform it again, with a sort of blind hope, that was
fated to be disappointed. The potatoe was thrown in the
usual manner, the rifle was discharged, but the flying target
was untouched.
“To the right-about, and fall out, Quarter-Master, “said
Lundie, smiling at the success of his own artifice—“the
honour of the silken calash will lie between Jasper Eau-douce
and Pathfinder.”
“And how is the trial to end, major?” inquired the latter.
“Are we to have the two potatoe trial, or is it to be settled by
centre and skin?”
“By centre and skin, if there is any perceptible difference;
otherwise the double shot must follow.”
“This is an awful moment to me, Pathfinder,” observed
Jasper, as he moved towards the stand, his face actually
losing its colour in intensity of feeling.
Pathfinder gazed earnestly at the young man, and then
begging Major Duncan to have patience for a moment, he
led his friend out of the hearing of all near him, before he
spoke.
“You seem to take this matter to heart, Jasper?” the
hunter remarked, keeping his eyes fastened on those of the
youth.
“I must own, Pathfinder, that my feelings were never before
so much bound up in success.”
“And do you so much crave to outdo me, an old and tried
friend?—and that, as it might be, in my own way? Shooting
is my gift, boy, and no common hand can equal mine!”
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“I know it—I know it, Pathfinder—but—yet—”
“But what, Jasper, boy?—speak freely; you talk to a
friend.”
The young man compressed his lips, dashed a hand across
his eye, and flushed and paled alternately, like a girl confessing
her love. Then squeezing the other's hand, he said
calmly, like one whose manhood has overcome all other
sensations—
“I would lose an arm, Pathfinder, to be able to make an
offering of that calash to Mabel Dunham.”
The hunter dropped his eyes to the ground, and as he
walked slowly back towards the stand, he seemed to ponder
deeply on what he had just heard.
“You never could succeed in the double trial, Jasper!” he
suddenly remarked.
“Of that I am certain, and it troubles me.”
“What a creature is mortal man! He pines for things
which are not of his gift, and treats the bounties of Providence
lightly. No matter—no matter. Take your station,
Jasper, for the major is waiting—and, harkee, lad—I must
touch the skin, for I could not show my face in the garrison
with less than that.”
“I suppose I must submit to my fate,” returned Jasper,
flushing and losing his colour, as before;—“but I will make
the effort, if I die.”
“What a thing is mortal man!” repeated Pathfinder, falling
back to allow his friend room to take his aim—“he overlooks
his own gifts, and craves those of another!”
The potatoe was thrown, Jasper fired, and the shout that
followed preceded the announcement of the fact, that he had
driven his bullet through its centre, or so nearly so, as to
merit that award.
“Here is a competitor worthy of you, Pathfinder,” cried
Major Duncan, with delight, as the former took his station,
“and we may look to some fine shooting, in the double trial.”
“What a thing is mortal man!” repeated the hunter, scarce
seeming to notice what was passing around him, so much
were his thoughts absorbed in his own reflections—“Toss.”
The potatoe was tossed, the rifle cracked—it was remarked
just as the little black ball seemed stationary in the air, for
the marksman evidently took unusual heed to his aim—and
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then a look of disappointment and wonder succeeded among
those who caught the falling target.
“Two holes in one?” called out the major.
“The skin—the skin—” was the answer: “only the
skin!”
“How 's this, Pathfinder! Is Jasper Eau-douce to carry
off the honours of the day!”
“The calash is his,” returned the other, shaking his head,
and walking quietly away from the stand. “What a creature
is a mortal man! Never satisfied with his own gifts,
but for ever craving that which Providence denies!”
As Pathfinder had not buried his bullet in the potatoe, but
had cut through the skin, the prize was immediately adjudged
to Jasper. The calash was in the hands of the latter, when
the Quarter-Master approached, and with a politic air of cordiality,
he wished his successful rival joy of his victory.
“But now you 've got the calash, lad, it 's of no use to
you,” he added; “it will never make a sail, nor even an ensign.
I 'm thinking, Eau-douce, you 'd no be sorry to see
its value in good siller of the king?”
“Money cannot buy it, lieutenant,” returned Jasper, whose
eye lighted with all the fire of success and joy. “I would
rather have won this calash, than have obtained fifty new
suits of sails for the Scud!”
“Hoot—hoot—lad; you are going mad like all the rest of
them. I 'd even venture to offer half a guinea for the trifle,
rather than it should lie kicking about in the cabin of your
cutter, and, in the end, become an ornament for the head of
a squaw.”
Although Jasper did not know that the wary Quarter-Master
had not offered half the actual cost of the prize, he heard
the proposition with indifference. Shaking his head in the
negative, he advanced towards the stage, where his approach
excited a little commotion, the officers' ladies, one and all,
having determined to accept the present, should the gallantry
of the young sailor induce him to offer it. But Jasper's diffidence,
no less than admiration for another, would have prevented
him from aspiring to the honour of complimenting any
whom he thought so much his superiors.
“Mabel,” he said, “this prize is for you, unless—”
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“Unless what, Jasper?” answered the girl, losing her own
bashfulness, in the natural and generous wish to relieve his
embarrassment, though both reddened in a way to betray
strong feeling.
“Unless you may think too indifferently of it, because it
is offered by one who may have no right to believe his gift
will be accepted.”
“I do accept it, Jasper; and it shall be a sign of the danger
I have passed in your company, and of the gratitude I feel
for your care of me—your care, and that of the Pathfinder.”
“Never mind me, never mind me,” exclaimed the latter;
“this is Jasper's luck and Jasper's gift: give him full credit
for both. My turn may come another day; mine and the
Quarter-Master's, who seems to grudge the boy the calash,
though what he can want of it, I cannot understand, for he
has no wife.”
“And has Jasper Eau-douce a wife? Or have you a wife,
yoursel', Pathfinder? I may want it to help to get a wife,
or as a memorial that I have had a wife, or as proof how
much I admire the sex, or because it is a female garment, or
for some other equally respectable motive. It 's not the unreflecting
that are the most prized by the thoughtful, and
there is no surer sign that a man made a good husband to
his first consort, let me tell you all, than to see him speedily
looking round for a competent successor. The affections are
good gifts from Providence, and they that have loved one
faithfully, prove how much of this bounty has been lavished
upon them, by loving another as soon as possible.”
“It may be so—it may be so. I am no practitioner in
such things, and cannot gainsay it. But, Mabel, here, the
serjeant's daughter, will give you full credit for the words.
Come, Jasper, although our hands are out, let us see what
the other lads can do with the rifle.”
Pathfinder and his companions retired, for the sports were
about to proceed. The ladies, however, were not so much
engrossed with rifle-shooting as to neglect the calash. It
passed from hand to hand; the silk was felt, the fashion
criticised, and the work examined, and divers opinions were
privately ventured concerning the fitness of so handsome a
thing's passing into the possession of a non-commissioned
officer's child.
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“Perhaps you will be disposed to sell that calash, Mabel,
when it has been a short time in your possession?” inquired
the captain's lady. “Wear it, I should think, you never
can.”
“I may not wear it, madam,” returned our heroine modestly,
“but I should not like to part with it either.”
“I dare say Serjeant Dunham keeps you above the necessity
of selling your clothes, child; but, at the same time, it is
money thrown away to keep an article of dress you can never
wear.”
“I should be unwilling to part with the gift of a friend.”
“But the young man himself, will think all the better of
you, for your prudence, after the triumph of the day is forgotten.
It is a pretty and a becoming calash, and ought
not to be thrown away.”
“I 've no intention to throw it away, ma'am, and, if you
please, would rather keep it.”
“As you will, child; girls of your age often overlook
their real advantages. Remember, however, if you do determine
to dispose of the thing, that it is bespoke, and that I
will not take it, if you ever even put it on your own head.”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Mabel, in the meekest voice imaginable,
though her eyes looked like diamonds, and her cheeks
reddened to the tints of two roses, as she placed the forbidden
garment over her well-turned shoulders, where she kept it a
minute, as if to try its fitness, and then quietly removed it,
again.
The remainder of the sports offered nothing of interest.
The shooting was reasonably good, but the trials were all of
a scale lower than those related, and the competitors were
soon left to themselves. The ladies, and most of the officers
withdrew, and the remainder of the females soon followed
their example. Mabel was returning along the low flat rocks
that line the shore of the lake, dangling her pretty calash,
from a prettier finger, when Pathfinder met her. He carried
the rifle which he had used that day, but his manner had less
of the frank ease of the hunter about it, than usual, while his
eye seemed roving and uneasy. After a few unmeaning
words concerning the noble sheet of water before them, he
turned towards his companion with strong interest in his
countenance, and said,—
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“Jasper earned that calash for you, Mabel, without much
trial of his gifts.”
“It was fairly done, Pathfinder.”
“No doubt—no doubt. The bullet passed neatly through
the potatoe, and no man could have done more; though
others might have done as much.”
“But no one did as much!” exclaimed Mabel, with an animation
that she instantly regretted, for she saw by the pained
look of the guide, that he was mortified equally by the remark,
and by the feeling with which it was uttered.
“It is true—it is true, Mabel, no one did as much then,
but—yet, there is no reason I should deny my gifts which
come from Providence—yes, yes; no one did as much there,
but you shall know what can be done here. Do you observe
the gulls that are flying over our heads?”
“Certainly, Pathfinder—there are too many to escape
notice.”
“Here, where they cross each other, in sailing about,” he
added, cocking and raising his rifle—“the two—the two—
now look!”
The piece was presented quick as thought, as two of the
birds came in a line, though distant from each other many
yards—the report followed, and the bullet passed through the
bodies of both the victims. No sooner had the gulls fallen
into the lake, than Pathfinder dropped the breech of the rifle,
and laughed in his own peculiar manner, every shade of dissatisfaction
and mortified pride having left his honest face.
“That is something, Mabel, that is something; although
I 've no calash to give you! But ask Jasper, himself; I 'll
leave it all to Jasper, for a truer tongue and heart, are not in
America.”
“Then it was not Jasper's fault that he gained the prize!”
“Not it. He did his best, and he did well. For one that
has water gifts, rather than land gifts, Jasper is uncommonly
expert, and a better backer no one need wish, ashore or afloat.
But it was my fault, Mabel, that he got the calash; though
it makes no difference—it makes no difference, for the thing
has gone to the right person.”
“I believe I understand you, Pathfinder,” said Mabel,
blushing in spite of herself, “and I look upon the calash as
the joint gift of yourself and Jasper.”
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“That would not be doing justice to the lad, neither. He
won the garment, and had a right to give it away. The
most you may think, Mabel, is to believe that had I won it,
it would have gone to the same person.”
“I will remember that, Pathfinder, and take care that
others know your skill, as it has been proved upon the poor
gulls, in my presence.”
“Lord bless you, Mabel, there is no more need of your
talking in favour of my shooting, on this frontier, than of
your talking about the water in the lake, or the sun in the
heavens. Every body knows what I can do in that way,
and your words would be thrown away, as much as French
would be thrown away on an American bear.”
“Then you think that Jasper knew you were giving him
this advantage, of which he has so unhandsomely availed
himself?” said Mabel, the colour which had imparted so
much lustre to her eyes, gradually leaving her face, which
became grave and thoughtful.
“I do not say that, but very far from it. We all forget
things that we have known, when eager after our wishes.
Jasper is satisfied that I can pass one bullet through two potatoes,
as I sent my bullet through the gulls; and he knows
no other man on the frontier can do the same thing. But
with the calash before his eyes, and the hope of giving it to
you, the lad was inclined to think better of himself, just at
that moment, perhaps, than he ought. No—no—there 's
nothing mean or distrustful about Jasper Eau-douce, though
it is a gift, natural to all young men, to wish to appear well
in the eyes of handsome young women.”
“I 'll try to forget all, but the kindness you 've both shown
to a poor motherless girl,” said Mabel, struggling to keep
down emotions that she scarcely knew how to account for,
herself. “Believe me, Pathfinder, I can never forget all you
have already done for me—you and Jasper—and this new
proof of your regard is not thrown away. Here—here is a
brooch that is of silver, and I offer it as a token that I owe
you life or liberty.”
“What shall I do with this, Mabel?” asked the bewildered
hunter, holding the simple trinket in his hand. “I have neither
buckle nor button about me, for I wear nothing but
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leathern strings, and them of good deer-skins. It's pretty to
the eye, but it is prettier far on the spot it came from, than
it can be about me.”
“Nay put it in your hunting-shirt; it will become it well.
Remember, Pathfinder, that it is a token of friendship between
us, and a sign that I can never forget you or your services.”
Mabel then smiled an adieu, and bounding up the bank,
she was soon lost to view behind the mound of the fort.
CHAPTER XII.
“Lo! dusky masses steal in dubious sight,
Along the leagur'd wall, and bristling bank
Of the arm'd river; while with straggling light,
The stars peep through the vapour, dim and dank.”
Byron.
A few hours later, Mabel Dunham was on the bastion that
overlooked the river and the lake, seemingly in deep thought.
The evening was calm and soft, and the question had arisen
whether the party for the Thousand Islands would be able to
get out that night, or not, on account of the total absence
of wind. The stores, arms, and ammunition were already
shipped, and even Mabel's effects were on board; but the small
draft of men that was to go was still ashore, there being no
apparent prospect of the cutter's getting under way. Jasper
had warped the Scud out of the cove, and so far up the
stream as to enable him to pass through the outlet of the
river, whenever he chose; but there he still lay, riding at
single anchor. The drafted men were lounging about the
shore of the cove, undecided whether or not to pull off.
The sports of the morning had left a quiet in the garrison
that was in harmony with the whole of the beautiful scene,
and Mabel felt its influence on her feelings, though probably
too little accustomed to speculate on such sensations, to be
aware of the cause. Every thing near appeared lovely and
soothing, while the solemn grandeur of the silent forest and
placid expanse of the lake, lent a sublimity that other scenes
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might have wanted. For the first time, Mabel felt the hold
that the towns and civilization had gained on her habits sensibly
weakened, and the warm-hearted girl began to think
that a life passed amid objects, such as these around her,
might be happy. How far the experience of the last ten
days came in aid of the calm and holy even-tide, and contributed
towards producing that young conviction, may be
suspected, rather than affirmed, in this early portion of our
legend.
“A charming sunset, Mabel,” said the hearty voice of her
uncle, so close to the ear of our heroine as to cause her to
start—“a charming sunset, girl, for a fresh-water concern,
though we should think but little of it at sea.”
“And is not nature the same, on shore, or at sea; on a
lake like this, or on the ocean? Does not the sun shine on
all alike, dear uncle, and can we not feel gratitude for the
blessings of Providence, as strongly on this remote frontier, as
in our own Manhattan?”
“The girl has fallen in with some of her mother's books!—
though I should think the serjeant would scarcely make a
second march with such trumpery among his baggage. Is
not nature the same, indeed!—Now, Mabel, do you imagine
that the nature of a soldier is the same as that of a sea-faring
man?—You 've relations in both callings, and ought to be
able to answer.”
“But, uncle, I mean human nature—”
“So do I, girl; the human nature of a seaman, and the
human nature of one of these fellows of the 55th, not even
excepting your own father. Here have they had a shooting-match—
target-firing I should call it—this day, and what a
different thing has it been from a target-firing afloat! There
we should have sprung our broadside, sported with round
shot, at an object half a mile off, at the very nearest; and the
potatoes, if there happened to be any on board, as quite likely
would not have been the case, would have been left in the
cook's coppers. It may be an honourable calling, that of a
soldier, Mabel, but an experienced hand sees many follies
and weaknesses in one of these forts. As for that bit of a
lake, you know my opinion of it, already, and I wish to disparage
nothing. No real sea-farer disparages anything; but
d—e, if I regard this here Ontario, as they call it, as more
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than so much water in a ship's scuttle-butt. Now, look you
here, Mabel, if you wish to understand the difference between
the ocean and a lake, I can make you comprehend it, with a
single look: this is what one may call a calm, seeing that
there is no wind; though, to own the truth, I do not think
the calms are as calm as them we get outside—”
“Uncle, there is not a breath of air! I do not think it
possible for the leaves to be more immovably still, than those
of the entire forest are, at this very moment.”
“Leaves! what are leaves, child? there are no leaves at sea.
If you wish to know whether it is a dead calm, or not, try a
mould candle—your dips flaring too much—and then you
may be certain whether there is, or is not, any wind. If
you were in a latitude where the air was so still that you
found a difficulty in stirring it to draw it in, in breathing,
you might fancy it a calm. People are often on a short
allowance of air, in the calm latitudes. Here, again, look
at that water!—It is like milk in a pan, with no more motion,
now, than there is in a full hogshead before the bung is
started. On the ocean, the water is never still, let the air be
as quiet as it may.”
“The water of the ocean never still, uncle Cap!—not even
in a calm?”
“Bless your heart, no, child. The ocean breathes like a
living being, and its bosom is always heaving, as the poetizers
call it, though there be no more air than is to be found in a
syphon. No man ever saw the ocean still, like this lake;
but it heaves and sets, as if it had lungs.”
“And this lake is not absolutely still, for you perceive
there is a little ripple on the shore, and you may even hear
the surf, plunging, at moments, against the rocks.”
“All d—d poetry! One may call a bubble a ripple, if
he will, and washing decks a surf; but Lake Ontario is no
more the Atlantic, than a Powles Hook periagua is a first-rate.
That Jasper, notwithstanding, is a fine lad, and wants
instruction only to make a man of him!”
“Do you think him ignorant, uncle,” answered Mabel,
prettily adjusting her hair, in order to do which she was
obliged, or fancied she was obliged, to turn away her face—
“To me, Jasper Eau-douce appears to know more than most
of the young men of his class. He has read but little, for
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books are not plenty in this part of the world, but he has
thought much; at least so it seems to me, for one so young.”
“He is ignorant, he is ignorant, as all must be who navigate
an inland water, like this. He can make a flat knot
and a timber hitch, it is true; but he has no more notion of
crowning a cable, now, or of a carrick bend, than you have
of catting an anchor. No—no—Mabel; we both owe something
to Jasper and the Pathfinder, and I have been thinking
how I can best serve them, for I hold ingratitude to be the
vice of a hog. Some people say it is the vice of a king; but
I say it is the failing of a hog; for treat the animal to your
own dinner, and he would eat you for the dessert.”
“Very true, dear uncle, and we ought indeed to do all we
can to express our proper sense of the services of both these
brave men.”
“Spoken like your mother's daughter, girl, and in a way
to do credit to the Cap family. Now, I've hit upon a traverse
that will just suit all parties, and as soon as we get back from
this little expedition down the lake, among them there thousand
islands, and I am ready to return, it is my intention to
propose it.”
“Dearest uncle! this is so considerate in you, and will be
so just! May I ask what your intentions are?”
“I see no reason for keeping them a secret from you,
Mabel, though nothing need be said to your father about them,
for the serjeant has his prejudices, and might throw difficulties
in the way. Neither Jasper, nor his friend, Pathfinder, can
ever make anything hereabouts, and I propose to take both
with me, down to the coast, and get them fairly afloat. Jasper
would find his sea-legs in a fortnight, and a twelvemonth's
v'y'ge would make him a man. Although Pathfinder might
take more time, or never get to be rated able, yet one could
make something of him, too, particularily as a look-out, for
he has unusually good eyes.”
“Uncle, do you think either would consent to this?” said
Mabel, smiling.
“Do I suppose them simpletons? What rational being
would neglect his own advancement? Let Jasper alone to
push his way, and the lad may yet die the master of some
square-rigged craft.”
“And would he be any the happier for it, dear uncle?
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How much better is it to be the master of a square-rigged
craft, than to be master of a round-rigged craft?”
“Pooh—pooh, Magnet, you are just fit to read lectures
about ships before some hysterical society; you don't know
what you are talking about; leave these things to me, and
they 'll be properly managed. Ah! here is the Pathfinder
himself, and I may just as well drop him a hint of my benevolent
intentions, as regards himself. Hope is a great encourager
of our exertions.”
Cap nodded his head, and then ceased to speak, while the
hunter approached, not with his usual frank and easy manner,
but in a way to show that he was slightly embarrassed,
if not distrustful of his reception.
“Uncle and niece make a family party,” said Pathfinder,
when near the two, “and a stranger may not prove a welcome
companion?”
“You are no stranger, Master Pathfinder,” returned Cap,
“and no one can be more welcome than yourself. We were
talking of you, but a moment ago, and when friends speak
of an absent man, he can guess what they have said.”
“I ask no secrets—I ask no secrets. Every man has his
enemies, and I have mine, though I count neither you,
Master Cap, nor pretty Mabel, here, among the number.
As for the Mingos, I will say nothing; though they have no
just cause to hate me.”
“That I 'll answer for, Pathfinder, for you strike my fancy
as being well disposed and upright. There is a method, however,
of getting away from the enmity of even these Mingos,
and if you choose to take it, no one will more willingly point
it out, than myself, without a charge for my advice either.”
“I wish no enemies, Saltwater,” for so the Pathfinder had
begun to call Cap, having, insensibly to himself, adopted the
term by translating the name given him by the Indians, in
and about the fort,—“I wish no enemies. I 'm as ready to
bury the hatchet with the Mingos as with the French, though
you know that it depends on one greater than either of us,
so to turn the heart, as to leave a man without enemies.”
“By lifting your anchor, and accompanying me down to
the coast, friend Pathfinder, when we get back from this
short cruise on which we are bound, you will find yourself
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beyond the sound of the war-whoop, and safe enough from
any Indian bullet.”
“And what should I do on the salt-water? Hunt in your
towns! Follow the trails of people going and coming from
market, and ambush dogs and poultry! You are no friend
to my happiness, Master Cap, if you would lead me out
of the shade of the woods, to put me in the sun of the
clearings!”
“I did not propose to leave you in the settlements, Pathfinder,
but to carry you out to sea, where a man can only
be said to breathe freely. Mabel will tell you that such was
my intention, before a word was said on the subject.”
“And what does Mabel think would come of such a
change? She knows that a man has his gifts, and that it is
as useless to pretend to others, as to withstand them that
come from Providence. I am a hunter, and a scout, or a
guide, Saltwater, and it is not in me to fly so much in the
face of heaven, as to try to become any thing else. Am I
right, Mabel, or are you so much a woman as to wish to see
a natur' altered?”
“I would wish to see no change in you, Pathfinder,” Mabel
answered with a cordial sincerity and frankness, that went
directly to the hunter's heart; “and much as my uncle admires
the sea, and great as is all the good that he thinks may
come of it, I could not wish to see the best and noblest hunter
of the woods transformed into an admiral. Remain what
you are, my brave friend, and you need fear nothing, short
of the anger of God.”
“Do you hear this, Saltwater?—Do you hear what the
serjeant's daughter is saying, and she is much too upright
and fair-minded, and pretty, not to think what she says. So
long as she is satisfied with me as I am, I shall not fly in the
face of the gifts of Providence, by striving to become
anything else. I may seem useless, here, in a garrison, but
when we get down among the Thousand Islands, there may
be an opportunity to prove that a sure rifle is sometimes a
God-send.”
“You are then to be of our party?” said Mabel, smiling
so frankly and so sweetly on the guide, that he would have
followed her to the end of the earth. “I shall be the only
female with the exception of one soldier's wife, and shall feel
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none the less secure, Pathfinder, because you will be among
our protectors.”
“The serjeant would do that, Mabel, the serjeant would
do that, though you were not of his kin. No one will overlook
you. I should think your uncle, here, would like an
expedition of this sort, where we shall go with sails, and have
a look at an inland sea?”
“Your inland sea is no great matter, Master Pathfinder,
and I expect nothing from it. I confess, however, I should
like to know the object of the cruise, for one does not wish to
be idle, and my brother-in-law, the serjeant, is as close-mouthed
as a freemason. Do you know, Mabel, what all
this means?”
“Not in the least, uncle. I dare not ask my father any
questions about his duty, for he thinks it is not a woman's
business, and all I can say is that we are to sail as soon as
the wind will permit, and that we are to be absent a month.”
“Perhaps, Master Pathfinder can give me a useful hint;
for a v'y'ge without an object is never pleasant to an old
sailor.”
“There is no great secret, Saltwater, concerning our port
and object, though it is forbidden to talk much about either
in the garrison. I am no soldier, however, and can use my
tongue as I please, though as little given as another to idle
conversation, I hope; still, as we sail so soon, and you are
both to be of the party, you may as well be told where you
are to be carried. You know that there are such things as
the Thousand Islands, I suppose, Master Cap?”
“Ay, what are so called, hereaway, though I take it for
granted that they are not real islands, such as we fall in with
on the ocean; and that the thousand means some such matter
as two or three, like the killed and wounded of a great
battle.”
“My eyes are good, and yet have I often been foiled in
trying to count them very islands.”
“Ay—ay—I 've known people who could n't count beyond
a certain number. Your real land-birds never know their
own roosts, even in a land-fall at sea; they are what I call
all things to all men. How many times have I seen the
beach, and houses and churches, when the passengers have
not been able to see anything but water! I have no idea that
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a man can get fairly out of sight of land, on fresh-water.
The thing appears to me to be irrational and impossible.”
“You don't know the lakes, Master Cap, or you would
not say that. Before we get to the Thousand Islands, you
will have other notions of what natur' has done in this wilderness.”
“I have my doubts whether you have such a thing as a
real island in all this region. To my notion, fresh-water
can't make a bony fidy island; not what I call an island.”
“We 'll show you hundreds of them—not exactly a thousand,
perhaps, but so many that eye cannot see them all, or
tongue count them.”
“And what sort of things may they be?”
“Land with water entirely around them.”
“Ay, but what sort of land, and what sort of water? I 'll
engage, when the truth comes to be known, they 'll turn out
to be nothing but peninsulas, or promontories, or continents;
though these are matters, I dare say, of which you know
little or nothing. But islands or no islands, what is the object
of the cruise, Master Pathfinder?”
“Why as you are the serjeant's brother, and pretty Mabel
here is his daughter, and we are all to be of the party, there
can be no harm in giving you some idea of what we are going
to do. Being so old a sailor, Master Cap, you 've heard,
no doubt, of such a port as Frontenac?”
“Who hasn't? I will not say I 've ever been inside the
harbour, but I 've frequently been off the place.”
“Then you are about to go upon ground with which you are
acquainted, though how you could ever have got there, from
the ocean, I do not understand. These great lakes, you
must know, make a chain, the water passing out of one
into the other, until it reaches Erie, which is a sheet off here
to the westward, as large as Ontario itself. Well, out of
Erie the water comes, until it reaches a low mountain like,
over the edge of which it passes—”
“I should like to know how the devil it can do that?”
“Why easy enough, Master Cap,” returned Pathfinder
laughing, “seeing that it has only to fall down hill. Had I
said the water went up the mountain, there would have been
natur' ag'in it; but we hold it no great matter for water to
run down hill—that is, fresh water.”
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“Ay—ay—but you speak of the water of a lake's coming
down the side of a mountain; it 's in the teeth of reason, if
reason has any teeth.”
“Well—well—we will not dispute the point; but what
I 've seen, I 've seen: as for reason's having any teeth, I 'll
say nothing; but conscience has, and sharp ones too. After
getting into Ontario, all the water of all the lakes passes down
into the sea, by a river; and in the narrow part of the sheet
where it is neither river nor lake, lie the islands spoken of.
Now, Frontenac is a post of the Frenchers above these same
islands; and as they hold the garrison below, their stores
and ammunition are sent up the river to Frontenac, to be forwarded
along the shores of this and the other lakes, in order
to enable the enemy to play his deviltries among the savages,
and to take Christian scalps.”
“And will our presence prevent these horrible acts?”
demanded Mabel, with interest.
“It may, or it may not, as Providence wills. Lundie, as
they call him, he who commands this garrison, sent a party
down to take a station among the islands, to cut off some of
the French boats; and this expedition of ours will be the
second relief. As yet they 've not done much, though two
batteaux loaded with Indian goods have been taken; but a
runner came in, last week, and brought such tidings that the
major is about to make a last effort to circumvent the knaves.
Jasper knows the way, and we shall be in good hands, for
the serjeant is prudent, and of the first quality at an ambushment—
yes, he is both prudent and alert.”
“Is this all!” said Cap, contemptuously—“by the preparations
and equipments, I had thought there was a forced
trade in the wind, and that an honest penny might be turned,
by taking an adventure. I suppose there are no shares in
your fresh-water prize-money?”
“Anan?”
“I take it for granted the king gets all, in these soldiering
parties, and ambushments, as you call them?”
“I know nothing about that, Master Cap. I take my share
of the lead and powder, if any falls into our hands, and say
nothing to the king about it. If any one fares better, it is not
I—though it is time I did begin to think of a house, and furniture,
and a home.”
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Although the Pathfinder did not dare to look at Mabel,
while he made this direct allusion to his change of life, he
would have given the world to know whether she were listening,
and what was the expression of her countenance. Mabel
little suspected the nature of the allusion, however; and her
countenance was perfectly unembarrassed, as she turned her
eyes towards the river, where the appearance of some movement
on board the Scud, began to be visible.
“Jasper is bringing the cutter out,” observed the guide,
whose look was drawn in the same direction, by the fall of
some heavy article on the deck. “The lad sees the signs of
wind, no doubt, and wishes to be ready for it.”
“Ay, now we shall have an opportunity of learning seamanship—”
returned Cap, with a sneer. “There is a nicety
in getting a craft under her canvas, that shows the thorough-bred
mariner as much as anything else. It 's like a soldier
buttoning his coat, and one can see whether he begins at the
top, or the bottom.”
“I will not say that Jasper is equal to your sea-farers below,”
observed Pathfinder, across whose upright mind an
unworthy feeling of envy, or of jealousy, never passed; “but
he is a bold boy, and manages his cutter as skilfully as any
man can desire, on this lake at least. You did n't find him
backward at the Oswego Falls, Master Cap, where fresh-water
contrives to tumble down hill, with little difficulty.”
Cap made no other answer than a dissatisfied ejaculation,
and then a general silence followed, all on the bastion studying
the movements of the cutter, with the interest that was
natural to their own future connection with the vessel. It
was still a dead calm, the surface of the lake literally glittering
with the last rays of the sun. The Scud had been
warped up to a kedge, that lay a hundred yards above the
points of the outlet, where she had room to manœuvre in the
river, which then formed the harbour of Oswego. But the
total want of air prevented any such attempt, and it was soon
evident that the light vessel was to be taken through the passage,
under her sweeps. Not a sail was loosened, but as
soon as the kedge was tripped, the heavy fall of the sweeps
was heard, when the cutter, with her head up stream, began
to sheer towards the centre of the current; on reaching
which, the efforts of the men ceased, and she drifted towards
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the outlet. In the narrow pass itself her movement was rapid,
and in less than five minutes, the Scud was floating outside
of the two low gravelly points that intercepted the waves
of the lake. No anchor was let go, but the vessel continued
to set off from the land, until her dark hull was seen resting
on the glassy surface of the lake, fully a quarter of a mile
beyond the low bluff, which formed the eastern extremity of
what might be called the outer harbour, or roadsted. Here
the influence of the river current ceased, and she became,
virtually, stationary.
“She seems very beautiful to me, uncle,” said Mabel,
whose gaze had not been averted from the cutter, for a single
moment, while it had thus been changing its position;
“I dare say you can find faults in her appearance, and
in the way she is managed; but to my ignorance both are
perfect!”
“Ay—ay—she drops down with a current well enough,
girl, and so would a chip. But when you come to niceties,
an old tar, like myself, has no need of spectacles to find
fault.”
“Well, Master Cap,” put in the guide, who seldom heard
any thing to Jasper's prejudice, without manifesting a disposition
to interfere, “I 've heard old and experienced salt-water
mariners confess, that the Scud is as pretty a craft as floats.
I know nothing of such matters, myself, but one may have
his own notions about a ship, even though they be wrong
notions; and it would take more than one witness to persuade
me, Jasper does not keep his boat in good order.”
“I do not say that the cutter is downright lubberly, Master
Pathfinder; but she has faults, and great faults.”
“And what are they, uncle?—if he knew them, Jasper
would be glad to mend them.”
“What are they?—Why fifty; ay, for that matter, a hundred.
Very material and manifest faults.”
“Do name them, sir, and Pathfinder will mention them to
his friend.”
“Name them? it is no easy matter to call off the stars,
for the simple reason that they are so numerous. Name
them, indeed!—Why, my pretty niece, Miss Magnet, what
do you think of that main-boom now? To my ignorant
eyes, it is topped, at least, a foot too high; and then the
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pennant is foul; and—and—ay, d—e, if there isn't a topsail
gasket adrift—and, it wouldn't surprise me at all, if there
should prove to be a round turn in that hawser, if the kedge
were to be let go, this instant! Faults, indeed! No seaman
could look at her a moment, without seeing that she is as full
of faults, as a servant that has asked for his discharge.”
“This may be very true, uncle, though I much question
if Jasper knows of them. I do not think he would suffer
these things, Pathfinder, if they were once pointed out to him.”
“Let Jasper manage his own cutter, Mabel; let him
manage his own cutter. His gift lies that-a-way, and I 'll
answer for it, no one can teach him how to keep the Scud
out of the hands of the Frontenackers, or their devilish Mingo
friends. Who cares for round turns in kedges, and for
hawsers that are topped too high, Master Cap, so long as the
craft sails well, and keeps clear of the Frenchers? I will trust
Jasper, against all the sea-farers of the coast, up here on the
lakes—but I do not say he has any gift for the ocean, for
there he has never been tried.”
Cap smiled condescendingly, but he did not think it necessary
to push his criticisms any farther, just at that moment.
His air and manner gradually became more supercilious and
lofty, though he now wished to seem indifferent to any discussions
on points of which one of the parties was entirely ignorant.
By this time the cutter had begun to drift at the
mercy of the currents of the lake, her head turning in all
directions, though slowly and not in a way to attract particular
attention. Just at this moment the jib was loosened and
hoisted, and presently the canvass swelled towards the land,
though no evidences of air were yet to be seen on the surface
of the water. Slight, however, as was the impulsion, the
light hull yielded, and, in another minute, the Scud was seen
standing across the current of the river, with a movement so
easy and moderate as to be scarcely perceptible. When out
of the stream, she struck an eddy, and shot up towards the
land, under the eminence where the fort stood, when Jasper
dropped his kedge.
“Not lubberly done—” muttered Cap, in a sort of soliloquy,
“not over-lubberly, though he should have put his
helm a-starboard instead of a-port, for a vessel ought always
to come-to with her head off shore, whether she is a league
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from the land, or only a cable's length, since it has a careful
look; and looks are something in this world.”
“Jasper is a handy lad,” suddenly observed Serjeant
Dunham, at his brother-in-law's elbow; “and we place
great reliance on his skill in our expeditions. But come,
one and all, we have but half an hour more of day-light to
embark in, and the boats will be ready for us, by the time
we are ready for them.”
On this intimation the whole party separated, each to find
those trifles which had not been shipped already. A few
taps of the drum gave the necessary signal to the soldiers,
and in a minute all were in motion.
CHAPTER XIII.
“The goblin now the fool alarms,
Hags meet to mumble o'er their charms,
The night-mare rides the dreaming ass,
And fairies trip it on the grass.”
Cotton.
The embarkation of so small a party was a matter of no
great delay, or embarrassment. The whole force confided
to the care of Serjeant Dunham consisted of but ten privates
and two non-commissioned officers, though it was soon positively
known that Mr. Muir was to accompany the expedition.
The Quarter-Master, however, went as a volunteer, while
some duty connected with his own department, as had been
arranged between him and his commander, was the avowed
object. To these must be added the Pathfinder and Cap,
with Jasper and his subordinates, one of whom was a boy.
The males of the entire party, consequently, consisted of less
than twenty men, and a lad of fourteen. Mabel, and the
wife of a common soldier, were the only females.
Serjeant Dunham carried off his command in a large batteau,
and then returned for his final orders, and to see that
his brother-in-law and daughter were properly attended to.
Having pointed out to Cap the boat that he and Mabel were
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to use, he ascended the hill to seek his last interview with
Lundie. The major was on the bastion so often mentioned;
leaving him and the serjeant together, for a short time, we
will return to the beach.
It was nearly dark, when Mabel found herself in the boat
that was to carry her off to the cutter. So very smooth was
the surface of the lake, that it was not found necessary to
bring the batteaux into the river to receive their freights, but
the beach outside being totally without surf, and the water as
tranquil as that of a pond, every body embarked there.
As Cap had said, there was no heaving and setting, no working
of vast lungs, nor any respiration of an ocean; for, on
Ontario, unlike the Atlantic, gales were not agitating the element
at one point, while calms prevailed at another. This
the distances did not permit, and it is the usual remark of
mariners, that the sea got up faster and went down sooner,
on all the great lakes of the west, than on the different seas
of their acquaintance. When the boat left the land, therefore,
Mabel would not have known that she was afloat on so
broad a sheet of water, by any movement that is usual to
such circumstances. The oars had barely time to give a
dozen strokes, when the boat lay at the cutter's side.
Jasper was in readiness to receive his passengers, and, as
the deck of the Scud was but two or three feet above the
water, no difficulty was experienced in getting on board her.
As soon as this was effected, the young man pointed out to
Mabel and her companion, the accommodations prepared for
their reception, and they took possession of them. The little
vessel contained four apartments below, all between decks
having been expressly constructed with a view to the transportation
of officers and men, with their wives and families.
First in rank, was what was called the after-cabin, a small
apartment that contained four berths, and which enjoyed the
advantage of possessing small windows, for the admission of
air and light. This was uniformly devoted to females, whenever
any were on board; and as Mabel and her companion
were alone, they had ample space and accommodation. The
main-cabin was larger, and lighted from above. It was
now appropriated to the uses of the Quarter-Master, the serjeant,
Cap, and Jasper; the Pathfinder roaming through any
part of the cutter he pleased, the female apartment excepted.
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The corporals and common soldiers occupied the space beneath
the main hatch, which had a deck for such a purpose;
while the crew were berthed, as usual, in the forecastle.
Although the cutter did not measure quite fifty tons, the draft
of officers and men was so light, that there was ample room
for all on board, there being space enough to accommodate
treble the number, if necessary.
As soon as Mabel had taken possession of her own really
comfortable and pretty cabin, in doing which she could not
abstain from indulging in the pleasant reflection that some of
Jasper's favour had been especially manifested in her behalf,
she went on deck again. Here all was momentarily in
motion; the men were roving to and fro, in quest of their
knapsacks and other effects; but method and habit soon reduced
things to order, when the stillness on board became
even imposing for it was connected with the idea of future
adventure, and ominous preparation.
Darkness was now beginning to render objects on shore
indistinct, the whole of the land forming one shapeless black
outline, of even, forest, summits, that was to be distinguished
from the impending heavens only by the greater light of the
sky. The stars, however, soon began to appear in the
latter, one after another, in their usual mild, placid lustre,
bringing with them that sense of quiet which ordinarily accompanies
night. There was something soothing, as well
as exciting in such a scene; and Mabel, who was seated on
the quarter-deck, sensibly felt both influences. The Pathfinder
was standing near her, leaning, as usual, on his long
rifle, and she fancied that, through the growing darkness of
the hour, she could trace even stronger lines of thought than
usual, in his rugged countenance.
“To you, Pathfinder, expeditions like this, can be no great
novelty,” she said, “though I am surprised to find how silent
and thoughtful the men appear to be.”
“We learn this, by making war ag'in Indians. Your
militia are great talkers, and little doers, in general; but the
soldier who has often met the Mingos, learns to know the
value of a prudent tongue. A silent army, in the woods, is
doubly strong; and a noisy one, doubly weak. If tongues
made soldiers, the women of a camp would generally carry
the day.”
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“But we are neither an army, nor in the woods. There
can be no danger of Mingos, in the Scud.”
“Ask Jasper, how he got to be master of this cutter, and
you will find yourself answered, as to that opinion! No one
is safe from a Mingo, who does not understand his very natur';
and, even then, he must act up to his own knowledge,
and that closely. Ask Jasper how he got command of this
very cutter!”
“And how did he get the command?” inquired Mabel,
with an earnestness and interest that delighted her simple-minded
and true-hearted companion, who was never better
pleased than when he had an opportunity of saying aught in
favour of a friend. “It is honourable to him, that he has
reached this station, while yet so young.”
“That is it—but he deserved it all, and more. A frigate
would n't have been too much to pay for so much spirit and
coolness, had there been such a thing on Ontario, as there is
not, howsever, or likely to be.”
“But Jasper—you have not yet told me how he got the
command of the schooner?”
“It is a long story, Mabel, and one your father, the serjeant,
can tell much better than I, for he was present, while
I was off on a distant scouting. Jasper is not good at a story,
I will own that; I 've heard him questioned about this affair,
and he never made a good tale of it, although every body
knows it was a good thing. No—no—Jasper is not good at
a story, as his best friends must own. The Scud had near
fallen into the hands of the French and the Mingos, when Jasper
saved her, in a way, that none but a quick-witted mind
and a bold heart would have attempted. The serjeant will
tell the tale better than I can, and I wish you to question
him, some day, when nothing better offers. As for Jasper,
himself, there will be no use in worrying the lad, since he
will make a bungling matter of it, for he don't know how to
give a history at all.”
Mabel determined to ask her father to repeat the incidents
of the affair that very night, for it struck her young fancy
that nothing better could well offer than to listen to the
praises of one who was a bad historian of his own exploits.
“Will the Scud remain with us, when we reach the island?”
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she asked, after a little hesitation about the propriety of the
question, “or shall we be left to ourselves?”
“That 's as may be. Jasper does not often keep the cutter
idle, when anything is to be done, and we may expect activity
on his part. My gifts, however, run so little towards
the water, and vessels, generally, unless it be among rapids
and falls, and in canoes, that I pretend to know nothing about
it. We shall have all right, under Jasper, I make no doubt,
who can find a trial on Ontario, as well as a Delaware can
find one, on the land.”
“And our own Delaware, Pathfinder—the Big Serpent—
why is he not with us, to-night?”
“Your question would have been more natural, had you
said, why are you here, Pathfinder?—The Sarpent is in his
place, while I am not in mine. He is out, with two or three
more, scouting the lake shores, and will join us down among
the islands, with the tidings he may gather. The serjeant is
too good a soldier, to forget his rear, while he is facing the
enemy in front! It's a thousand pities, Mabel, your father
was n't born a general, as some of the English are who come
among us, for I feel sartain he would n't leave a Frencher in
the Canadas a week, could he have his own way with them.”
“Shall we have enemies to face in front?” asked Mabel,
smiling, and, for the first time, feeling a slight apprehension
about the dangers of the expedition. “Are we likely to have
an engagement?”
“If we have, Mabel, there will be men enough ready and
willing to stand between you and harm. But you are a soldier's
daughter, and we all know have the spirit of one.
Don't let the fear of a battle keep your pretty eyes from
sleeping.”
“I do feel braver, out here in the woods, Pathfinder, than
I ever felt before, amid the weaknesses of the towns, although
I have always tried to remember what I owe to my dear
father.”
“Ay, your mother was so before you!—`You will find
Mabel, like her mother, no screamer, or a faint-hearted girl,
to trouble a man in his need, but one who would encourage
her mate, and help to keep his heart up, when sorest pressed
by danger'—said the serjeant to me, before I ever laid eyes
on that sweet countenance of yours,—he did!”
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“And why should my father have told you this, Pathfinder?”
the girl demanded a little earnestly. “Perhaps he
fancied you would think the better of me, if you did not believe
me a silly coward, as so many of my sex love to make
themselves appear.”
Deception, unless it were at the expense of his enemies in
the field,—nay, concealment of even a thought, was so little
in accordance with the Pathfinder's very nature, that he was
not a little embarrassed by this simple question. To own
the truth openly, he felt, by a sort of instinct for which it
would have puzzled him to account, would not be proper;
and to hide it, agreed with neither his sense of right, nor his
habits. In such a strait he involuntarily took refuge in a
middle course, not revealing that which he fancied ought not
to be told, nor yet absolutely concealing it.
“You must know, Mabel,” he said, “that the serjeant and
I are old friends, and have stood side by side—or if not actually
side by side, I a little in advance as became a scout,
and your father, with his own men, as better suited a soldier
of the king—on many a hard fou't and bloody day. It 's the
way of us skirmishers to think little of the fight, when the
rifle has done cracking; and at night, around our fires, or on
our marches, we talk of the things we love, just as you
young women convarse about your fancies and opinions, when
you get together to laugh over your idees. Now it was natural
that the serjeant, having such a daughter as you, should
love her better than anything else, and that he should talk
of her oftener than of anything else,—while I, having neither
daughter, nor sister, nor mother, nor kith nor kin, nor any
thing but the Delawares to love, I naturally chimed in, as it
were, and got to love you, Mabel, before I ever saw you—
yes I did—just by talking about you so much.”
“And now you have seen me,” returned the smiling girl,
whose unmoved and natural manner proved how little she
was thinking of anything more than parental or fraternal
regard, “you are beginning to see the folly of forming friendships
for people before you know anything about them, except
by hearsay.”
“It wasn't friendship—it isn't friendship, Mabel, that I feel
for you. I am the friend of the Delawares, and have been
so from boyhood; but my feelings for them, or for the best
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of them, are not the same as those I got from the serjeant for
you; and, especially, now that I begin to know you better.
I 'm sometimes afear'd it isn't wholesome for one who is much
occupied in a very manly calling, like that of a guide, or a
scout, or a soldier even, to form friendships for women—
young women in particular—as they seem to me to lessen
the love of enterprise, and to turn the feelings away from
their gifts and natural occupations.”
“You, surely, do not mean, Pathfinder, that a friendship
for a girl like me, would make you less bold, and more unwilling
to meet the French, than you were before?”
“Not so—not so. With you in danger, for instance, I
fear I might become fool-hardy; but before we became so
intimate, as I may say, I loved to think of my scoutings, and
of my marches, and out-lyings, and fights, and other adventures;
but now my mind cares less about them: I think
more of the barracks and of evenings passed in discourse,
of feelings in which there are no wranglings and bloodshed,
and of young women, and of their laughs, and their cheerful
soft voices, their pleasant looks, and their winning ways! I
sometimes tell the serjeant, that he and his daughter will be
the spoiling of one of the best and most experienced scouts
on the lines!”
“Not they, Pathfinder; they will try to make that which
is already so excellent, perfect. You do not know us, if you
think that either wishes to see you, in the least, changed.
Remain, as at present, the same honest, upright, conscientious,
fearless, intelligent, trustworthy guide, that you are,
and neither my dear father, nor myself, can ever think of
you differently from what we now do.”
It was too dark for Mabel to note the workings of the countenance
of her listener, but her own sweet face was turned
towards him, as she spoke with an energy equal to her frankness,
in a way to show how little embarrassed were her
thoughts, and how sincere were her words. Her countenance
was a little flushed, it is true, but it was with earnestness and
truth of feeling; though no nerve thrilled, no limb trembled,
no pulsation quickened. In short, her manner and appearance
were those of a sincere-minded and frank girl, making
such a declaration of good-will and regard for one of the
other sex, as she felt that his services and good qualities
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merited, without any of the emotion that invariably accompanies
the consciousness of an inclination which might lead to
softer disclosures.
The Pathfinder was too unpractised, however, to enter
into distinctions of this kind, and his humble nature was encouraged
by the directness and strength of the words he had
just heard. Unwilling, if not unable to say any more, he
walked away, and stood leaning on his rifle, and looking up
at the stars, for quite ten minutes, in profound silence.
In the meanwhile, the interview on the bastion, to which
we have already alluded, took place between Lundie and the
serjeant.
“Have the men's knapsacks been examined?” demanded
Major Duncan, after he had cast his eye at a written report,
handed to him by the serjeant, but which it was too dark to
read.
“All, your honour; and all are right.”
“The ammunition—arms—?”
“All in order, Major Duncan, and fit for any service.”
“You have the men named in my own draft, Dunham?”
“Without an exception, sir. Better men could not be
found in the regiment.”
“You have need of the best of our men, serjeant. This
experiment has now been tried three times; always under
one of the ensigns, who have flattered me with success, but
have as often failed. After so much preparation and expense,
I do not like to abandon the project entirely; but this will be
the last effort: and the result will mainly depend on you and
on the Pathfinder.”
“You may count on us both, Major Duncan. The duty you
have given us is not above our habits and experience, and I
think it will be well done. I know that the Pathfinder will
not be wanting.”
“On that, indeed, it will be safe to rely. He is a most
extraordinary man, Dunham—one who long puzzled me;
but who, now that I understand him, commands as much of
my respect as any general in his Majesty's service.”
“I was in hopes, sir, that you would come to look at the
proposed marriage with Mabel, as a thing I ought to wish,
and forward.”
“As for that, serjeant, time will show,” returned Lundie,
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smiling; though here, too, the obscurity concealed the nicer
shades of expression,—“one woman is sometimes more difficult
to manage than a whole regiment of men. By the
way, you know that your would-be son-in-law, the Quarter-Master,
will be of the party; and I trust you will at least
give him an equal chance in the trial for your daughter's
smiles.”
“If respect for his rank, sir, did not cause me to do this,
your honour's wish would be sufficient.”
“I thank you, serjeant. We have served much together,
and ought to value each other in our several stations. Understand
me, however; I ask no more for Davy Muir than a
clear field and no favour. In love, as in war, each man
must gain his own victories. Are you certain that the rations
have been properly calculated?”
“I 'll answer for it, Major Duncan; but if they were not,
we cannot suffer with two such hunters as Pathfinder and the
Serpent in company.”
“That will never do, Dunham,” interrupted Lundie,
sharply; “and it comes of your American birth, and American
training! No thorough soldier ever relies on any thing
but his commissary for supplies; and I beg no part of my
regiment may be the first to set an example to the contrary.”
“You have only to command, Major Duncan, to be obeyed;
and yet, if I might presume, sir—”
“Speak freely, serjeant; you are talking with a friend.”
“I was merely about to say, that I find even the Scotch
soldiers like venison and birds quite as well as pork, when
they are difficult to be had.”
“That may be very true; but likes and dislikes have nothing
to do with system. An army can rely on nothing but
its commissaries. The irregularity of the provincials has
played the devil with the King's service too often to be winked
at any longer.”
“General Braddock, your honour, might have been advised
by Colonel Washington.”
“Out upon your Washington! You 're all provincials together,
man, and uphold each other as if you were of a sworn
confederacy.”
“I believe his Majesty has no more loyal subjects than the
Americans, your honour.”
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“In that, Dunham, I'm thinking you 're right; and I have
been a little too warm, perhaps. I do not consider you a
provincial, however, serjeant; for, though born in America,
a better soldier never shouldered a musket.”
“And Colonel Washington, your honour—?”
“Well; and Colonel Washington may be a useful subject,
too. He is the American prodigy; and I suppose I may
as well give him all the credit you ask. You have no doubt
of the skill of this Jasper Eau-douce?”
“The boy has been tried, sir; and found equal to all that
can be required of him.”
“He has a French name, and has passed much of his
boyhood in the French colonies: — has he French blood in
his veins, serjeant?”
“Not a drop, your honour. Jasper's father was an old
comrade of my own, and his mother came of an honest and
loyal family, in this very province.”
“How came he then so much among the French, and
whence his name?—He speaks the language of the Canadas,
too, I find!”
“That is easily explained, Major Duncan. The boy was
left under the care of one of our mariners in the old war,
and he took to the water, like a duck. Your honour knows
that we have no ports on Ontario, that can be named as such,
and he naturally passed most of his time on the other side of
the lake, where the French have had a few vessels, these fifty
years. He learned to speak their language, as a matter of
course, and got his name from the Indians and Canadians,
who are fond of calling men by their qualities, as it might be.”
“A French master is but a poor instructer for a British
sailor, notwithstanding!”
“I beg your pardon, sir; Jasper Eau-douce was brought
up under a real English seaman; one that had sailed under
the king's pennant, and may be called a thorough-bred: that
is to say, a subject born in the colonies, but none the worse
at his trade, I hope, Major Duncan, for that.”
“Perhaps not, serjeant; perhaps not; nor any better.
This Jasper behaved well, too, when I gave him the command
of the Scud; no lad could have conducted himself more loyally,
or better.”
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“Or more bravely, Major Duncan. I am sorry to see,
sir, that you have doubts as to the fidelity of Jasper.”
“It is the duty of the soldier, who is entrusted with the
care of a distant and important post like this, Dunham, never
to relax in his vigilance. We have two of the most artful
enemies that the world has ever produced, in their several
ways, to contend with — the Indians and the French; and
nothing should be overlooked that can lead to injury.”
“I hope your honour considers me fit to be intrusted with
any particular reason that may exist for doubting Jasper,
since you have seen fit to intrust me with this command.”
“It is not that I doubt you, Dunham, that I hesitate to reveal
all I may happen to know, but from a strong reluctance
to circulate an evil report concerning one of whom I have
hitherto thought well. You must think well of the Pathfinder,
or you would not wish to give him your daughter?”
“For the Pathfinder's honesty, I will answer with my life,
sir”—returned the serjeant firmly, and not without a dignity
of manner that struck his superior. “Such a man does n't
know how to be false.”
“I believe you are right, Dunham, and yet this last information
has unsettled all my old opinions. I have received
an anonymous communication, serjeant, advising me to be
on my guard against Jasper Western, or Jasper Eau-douce,
as he is called; who, it alleges, has been bought by the enemy,
and giving me reason to expect that further and more precise
information will soon be sent.”
“Letters without signatures to them, sir, are scarcely to
be regarded in war.”
“Or in peace, Dunham. No one can entertain a lower
opinion of the writer of an anonymous letter, in ordinary
matters, than myself. The very act denotes cowardice,
meanness, and baseness; and it usually is a token of falsehood,
as well as of other vices. But, in matters of war, it
is not exactly the same thing. Besides, several suspicious
circumstances have been pointed out to me—”
“Such as is fit for an orderly to hear, your honour?”
“Certainly, one in whom I confide as much as in yourself,
Dunham. It is said, for instance, that your daughter and
her party were permitted to escape the Iroquois, when they
came in, merely to give Jasper credit with me. I am told
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that the gentry at Frontenac will care more for the capture
of the Scud, with Serjeant Dunham and a party of men, together
with the defeat of our favourite plan, than for the capture
of a girl, and the scalp of her uncle.”
“I understand the hint, sir, but I do not give it credit.
Jasper can hardly be true, and Pathfinder false; and, as for
the last, I would as soon distrust your honour, as distrust
him!”
“It would seem so, serjeant; it would indeed seem so.
But Jasper is not the Pathfinder after all, and I will own,
Dunham, I should put more faith in the lad, if he didn't speak
French!”
“It 's no recommendation in my eyes, I assure your honour;
but the boy learned it by compulsion, as it were, and
ought not to be condemned too hastily, for the circumstance,
by your honour's leave. If he does speak French, it 's because
he can't well help it.”
“It 's a d—d lingo, and never did any one good—at least
no British subject; for I suppose the French themselves must
talk together, in some language or other. I should have
much more faith in this Jasper, did he know nothing of their
language. This letter has made me uneasy; and, were there
another to whom I could trust the cutter, I would devise
some means to detain him here. I have spoken to you already
of a brother-in-law who goes with you, serjeant, and
who is a sailor?”
“A real sea-faring man, your honour, and somewhat prejudiced
against fresh-water. I doubt if he could be induced
to risk his character on a lake, and I 'm certain he never
could find the station.”
“The last is probably true, and, then, the man cannot
know enough of this treacherous lake to be fit for the employment!
You will have to be doubly vigilant, Dunham.
I give you full powers, and should you detect this Jasper in
any treachery, make him a sacrifice at once to offended justice.”
“Being in the service of the crown, your honour, he is
amenable to martial law—”
“Very true—then iron him, from his head to his heels,
and send him up here, in his own cutter. That brother-in-law
of yours must be able to find the way back, after he has
once travelled the road.”
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“I make no doubt, Major Dunham, we shall be able to
do all that will be necessary, should Jasper turn out as you
seem to anticipate; though, I think I would risk my life on
his truth.”
“I like your confidence; it speaks well for the fellow—but
that infernal letter!—There is such an air of truth about it—
nay, there is so much truth in it, touching other matters—”
“I think your honour said it wanted the name at the bottom;
a great omission for an honest man to make.”
“Quite right, Dunham, and no one but a rascal, and a
cowardly rascal in the bargain, would write an anonymous
letter, on private affairs. It is different, however, in war.
Despatches are feigned, and artifice is generally allowed to
be justifiable.”
“Military, manly artifices, sir, if you will; such as ambushes,
surprises, feints, false attacks, and even spies; but I
never heard of a true soldier who could wish to undermine
the character of an honest young man, by such means as
these!”
“I have met with many strange events, and some stranger
people, in the course of my experience. But fare-you-well,
serjeant; I must detain you no longer. You are now on
your guard, and I recommend to you untiring vigilance. I
think Muir means shortly to retire, and should you fully succeed
in this enterprise, my influence will not be wanting, in
endeavouring to put you in the vacancy, to which you have
many claims!”
“I humbly thank your honour,” coolly returned the serjeant,
who had been encouraged in this manner, any time
for the twenty preceding years, “and hope I shall never disgrace
my station, whatever it may be.—I am what nature
and Providence have made me, and hope I 'm satisfied.”
“You have not forgotten the howitzer?”
“Jasper took it on board this morning, sir.”
“Be wary, and do not trust that man unnecessarily. Make
a confidant of Pathfinder at once; he may be of service in
detecting any villany that may be stirring. His simple honesty
will favour his observation, by concealing it. He must
be true.”
“For him, sir, my own head shall answer, or even my
rank in the regiment. I have seen him too often tried to
doubt him.”
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“Of all wretched sensations, Dunham, distrust, where one
is compelled to confide, is the most painful.—You have bethought
you of the spare flints?”
“A serjeant is a safe commander for all such details, your
honour.”
“Well, then, give me your hand, Dunham. God bless
you, and may you be successful. Muir means to retire—by
the way, let the man have an equal chance with your daughter,
for it may facilitate future operations about the promotion.
One would retire more cheerfully, with such a companion as
Mabel, than in cheerless widowerhood, and with nothing but
oneself to love,—and such a self, too, as Davy's!”
“I hope, sir, my child will make a prudent choice, and I
think her mind is already pretty much made up in favour of
Pathfinder. Still she shall have fair play, though disobedience
is the next crime to mutiny.”
“Have all the ammunition carefully examined and dried, as
soon as you arrive; the damp of the lake may affect it; and
now, once more, farewell, serjeant. Beware of that Jasper,
and consult with Muir, in any difficulty. I shall expect you
to return triumphant, this day month.”
“God bless your honour: if any thing should happen to
me, I trust to you, Major Duncan, to care for an old soldier's
character.”
“Rely on me, Dunham—you will rely on a friend. Be
vigilant: remember you will be in the very jaws of the lion;—
pshaw, of no lion, neither; but of treacherous tigers:—in
their very jaws, and beyond support. Have the flints counted
and examined in the morning,—and—farewell, Dunham,
farewell.”
The serjeant took the extended hand of his superior with
proper respect, and they finally parted; Lundie hastening
into his own moveable abode, while the other left the fort, descended
to the beach, and got into a boat.
Duncan of Lundie had said no more than the truth, when
he spoke of the painful nature of distrust. Of all the feelings
of the human mind, it is that which is the most treacherous
in its workings, the most insidious in its approaches, and the
least at the command of a generous temperament. While doubt
exists, everything may be suspected; the thoughts, having
no definite facts to set bounds to their wanderings; and
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distrust once admitted, it is impossible to say to what extent
conjecture may lead, or whither credulity may follow. That
which had previously seemed innocent, assumes the hue of
guilt, as soon as this uneasy tenant has taken possession of
the thoughts; and nothing is said or done, without being subjected
to the colourings and disfigurations of jealousy and
apprehension. If this is true in ordinary affairs, it is doubly
true when any heavy responsibility, involving life or death,
weighs on the unsettled mind of its subject;—as in the case
of the military commander, or the agent in the management
of any great political interest. It is not to be supposed, then,
that Serjeant Dunham, after he had parted from his commanding
officer, was likely to forget the injunctions he had
received. He thought highly of Jasper, in general; but distrust
had been insinuated between his former confidence and
the obligations of duty; and, as he now felt that everything
depended on his own vigilance, by the time the boat reached
the side of the Scud, he was in a proper humour to let no
suspicious circumstance go unheeded, or any unusual movement
in the young sailor pass without its comment. As a
matter of course, he viewed things in the light suited to his
peculiar mood; and his precautions, as well as his distrust,
partook of the habits, opinions, and education of the man.
The Scud's kedge was lifted, as soon as the boat with the
serjeant, who was the last person expected, was seen to quit
the shore, and the head of the cutter was cast to the eastward
by means of the sweeps. A few vigorous strokes of
the latter, in which the soldiers aided, now sent the light craft
into the line of the current that flowed from the river, when
she was suffered to drift into the offing again. As yet, there
was no wind, the light and almost imperceptible air from the
lake, that had existed previously to the setting of the sun,
having entirely failed.
All this time, an unusual quiet prevailed in the cutter. It
appeared as if those on board of her felt that they were entering
upon an uncertain enterprise, in the obscurity of night,
and that their duty, the hour, and the manner of their departure
lent a solemnity to their movements. Discipline also
came in aid of these feelings. Most were silent, and those
who did speak, spoke seldom and in low voices. In this
manner, the cutter set slowly out into the lake, until she had
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got as far as the river-current would carry her, when she
became stationary, waiting for the usual land-breeze. An
interval of half an hour followed, during the whole of which
time, the Scud lay as motionless as a log, floating on the
water. While the little changes just mentioned were occurring
in the situation of the vessel, notwithstanding the general
quiet that prevailed, all conversation had not been repressed;
for Serjeant Dunham, having first ascertained that both his
daughter and her female companion were on the quarter-deck,
led the Pathfinder to the after-cabin, where, closing the door
with great caution, and otherwise making certain he was beyond
the reach of eaves-droppers, he commenced as follows:
“It is now many years, my friend, since you began to
experience the hardships and dangers of the woods in my
company.”
“It is, serjeant; yes it is. I sometimes fear I am too old
for Mabel, who was not born until you and I had fought the
Frenchers as comrades.”
“No fear on that account, Pathfinder. I was near your
age before I prevailed on the mind of her mother; and Mabel
is a steady, thoughtful girl; one that will regard character,
more than any thing else. A lad like Jasper Eau-douce, for
instance, will have no chance with her, though he is both
young and comely.”
“Does Jasper think of marrying?” inquired the guide,
simply, but earnestly.
“I should hope not—at least, not until he has satisfied
every one of his fitness to possess a wife.”
“Jasper is a gallant boy, and one of great gifts in his way;
he may claim a wife, as well as another.”
“To be frank with you, Pathfinder, I brought you here to
talk about this very youngester. Major Duncan has received
some information which has led him to suspect that Eau-douce
is false, and in the pay of the enemy; I wish to hear your
opinion on the subject.”
“Anan!”
“I say the major suspects Jasper of being a traitor—a
French spy—or what is worse, of being bought to betray us.
He has received a letter to this effect, and has been charging
me to keep an eye on the boy's movements, for he fears we
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shall meet with enemies when we least suspect it, and by his
means.”
“Duncan of Lundie has told you this, Serjeant Dunham?”
“He has, indeed, Pathfinder; and though I have been
loath to believe anything to the injury of Jasper, I have a
feeling, which tells me I ought to distrust him. Do you believe
in presentiments, my friend?”
“In what, serjeant?”
“Presentiments—a sort of secret foreknowledge of events
that are about to happen. The Scotch of our regiment are
great sticklers for such things; and my opinion of Jasper is
changing so fast, that I begin to fear there must be some
truth in their doctrines.”
“But you 've been talking with Duncan of Lundie, concerning
Jasper, and his words have raised misgivings.”
“Not it—not so, in the least. For, while conversing with
the major, my feelings were altogether the other way; and I
endeavoured to convince him, all I could, that he did the boy
injustice. But there is no use in holding out against a presentiment,
I find, and I fear there is something in the suspicion
after all.”
“I know nothing of presentiments, serjeant, but I have
known Jasper Eau-douce since he was a boy, and I have as
much faith in his honesty, as I have in my own, or that of
the Sarpent, himself.”
“But the Serpent, Pathfinder, has his tricks and ambushes
in war, as well as another!”
“Ay, them are his nat'ral gifts, and are such as belong to
his people. Neither red-skin nor pale-face can deny natur';
but Chingachgook is not a man to feel a presentiment against.”
“That I believe, nor should I have thought ill of Jasper,
this very morning. It seems to me, Pathfinder, since I 've
taken up this presentiment, that the lad does not bustle about
his deck, naturally, as he used to do; but that he is silent, and
moody, and thoughtful, like a man who has a load on his
conscience.”
“Jasper is never noisy, and he tells me noisy ships are
generally ill-worked ships. Master Cap agrees in this too.
No—no—I will believe naught against Jasper, until I see it.
Send for your brother, serjeant, and let us question him in
this matter; for to sleep with distrust of one's friend in the
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heart, is like sleeping with lead there. I have no faith in
your presentiments!”
The serjeant, although he scarce knew, himself, with what
object, complied, and Cap was summoned to join in the consultation.
As Pathfinder was more collected than his companion,
and felt so strong a conviction of the good faith of
the party accused, he assumed the office of spokesman.
“We have asked you to come down, Master Cap,” he
commenced, “in order to inquire if you have remarked anything
out of the common way, in the movements of Eau-douce,
this evening.”
“His movements are common enough, I dare say, for
fresh-water, Master Pathfinder, though we should think most
of his proceedings irregular, down on the coast.”
“Yes, yes—we know you will never agree with the lad
about the manner the cutter ought to be managed; but it is
on another point we wish your opinion.”
The Pathfinder then explained to Cap the nature of the
suspicions which the serjeant entertained, and the reasons
why they had been excited, so far as the latter had been
communicated by Major Duncan.
“The youngster talks French, does he?” said Cap.
“They say he speaks it better than common,” returned
the serjeant, gravely. “Pathfinder knows this to be true.”
“I 'll not gainsay it—I 'll not gainsay it,” answered the
guide: “at least they tell me such is the fact. But this
would prove nothing ag'in' a Mississagua, and least of all
ag'in' one like Jasper. I speak the Mingo dialect myself,
having learnt it while a prisoner among the reptyles; but
who will say I am their friend!—Not that I am an enemy,
either, according to Indian notions; though I am their enemy,
I will admit, agreeable to Christianity.”
“Ay, Pathfinder, but Jasper did not get his French as a
prisoner: he took it in, in boyhood, when the mind is easily
impressed, and gets its permanent notions; when nature has
a presentiment, as it were, which way the character is likely
to incline.”
“A very just remark,” added Cap, “for that is the time
of life, when we all learn the catechism, and other moral
improvements. The serjeant's observation shows that he
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understands human nature, and I agree with him perfectly;
it is a damnable thing for a youngster, up here, on this bit
of fresh-water, to talk French. If it were down on the
Atlantic now, where a sea-faring man has occasion sometimes
to converse with a pilot, or a linguister, in that language,
I should not think so much of it, though we always
look with suspicion, even there, at a shipmate who knows
too much of the tongue: but up here on Ontario, I hold it to
be a most suspicious circumstance.”
“But Jasper must talk in French to the people on the other
shore,” said Pathfinder, “or hold his tongue, as there are
none but French to speak to.”
“You don't mean to tell me, Pathfinder, that France lies
hereaway, on the opposite coast?” cried Cap, jerking a
thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the Canadas;
“that one side of this bit of fresh-water, is York, and the
other France!”
“I mean to tell you this is York, and that is Upper Canada;
and that English and Dutch and Indian are spoken in the
first, and French and Indian in the last. Even the Mingos
have got many of the French words in their dialect, and it is
no improvement, neither.”
“Very true; and what sort of people are the Mingos, my
friend?” inquired the serjeant, touching the other on a
shoulder, by way of enforcing a remark, the inherent truth
of which sensibly increased its value in the eyes of the
speaker—“No one knows them better than yourself, and I
ask you what sort of a tribe are they?”
“Jasper is no Mingo, serjeant.”
“He speaks French, and he might as well be, in that particular.
Brother Cap, can you recollect no movement of
this unfortunate young man, in the way of his calling, that
would seem to denote treachery?”
“Not distinctly, serjeant, though he has gone to work
wrong end foremost, half his time. It is true, that one of
his hands coiled a rope against the sun, and he called it
querling a rope, too, when I asked him what he was about;
but I am not certain that anything was meant by it; though I
dare say the French coil half their running rigging the wrong
way, and may call it `querling it down,' too, for that matter.
Then Jasper, himself, belayed the end of the jib-halyards to
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a stretcher in the rigging, instead of bringing them into the
mast, where they belong, at least among British sailors.”
“I dare say Jasper may have got some Canada notions,
about working his craft, from being so much on the other
side—” Pathfinder interposed—“but catching an idee, or a
word, is n't treachery and bad faith. I sometimes get an
idee from the Mingos themselves; but my heart has always
been with the Delawares. No—no—Jasper is true; and the
king might trust him with his crown, just as he would trust
his eldest son, who, as he is to wear it one day, ought to be
the last man to wish to steal it.”
“Fine talking—fine talking—” said Cap, rising to spit out
of the cabin-window, as is customary with men when they
most feel their own great moral strength, and happen to chew
tobacco—“all fine talking, Master Pathfinder, but d—d
little logic. In the first place, the king's majesty cannot
lend his crown, it being contrary to the laws of the realm,
which require him to wear it, at all times, in order that his
sacred person may be known, just as the silver oar is necessary
to a sheriff's officer afloat. In the next place, it 's high
treason, by law, for the eldest son of his majesty ever to
covet the crown, or to have a child, except in lawful wedlock,
as either would derange the succession. Thus you
see, friend Pathfinder, that in order to reason truly, one
must get under way, as it might be, on the right tack. Law
is reason, and reason is philosophy, and philosophy is a steady
drag—whence it follows that crowns are regulated by law,
reason and philosophy.”
“I know little of all this, Master Cap; but nothing
short of seeing and feeling will make me think Jasper
Western a traitor.”
“There you are wrong again, Pathfinder, for there is a
way of proving a thing much more conclusively than by
either seeing or feeling, or by both together: and that is by a
circumstance.”
“It may be so, in the settlements; but it is not so, here, on
the lines.”
“It is so in nature, which is monarch over all. Now,
according to our senses, young Eau-douce is this moment on
deck, and by going up there, either of us might see and feel
him; but, should it afterwards appear that a fact was
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communicated to the French at this precise moment, which fact
no one but Jasper could communicate; why, we should
be bound to believe that the circumstance was true, and that
our eyes and fingers deceived us. Any lawyer will tell you
that.”
“This is hardly right,” said Pathfinder; “nor is it possible,
seeing that it is ag'in fact.”
“It is much more than possible, my worthy guide; it is
law; absolute, king's law of the realm, and, as such, to be
respected and obeyed. I 'd hang my own brother on such testimony;
no reflections on the family, being meant, serjeant.”
“God knows how far all this applies to Jasper; though I
do believe Mr. Cap is right, as to the law, Pathfinder; circumstances
being much stronger than the senses, on such
occasions. We must all of us be watchful, and nothing
suspicious should be overlooked.”
“Now I recollect me,” continued Cap, again using the
window, — “there was a circumstance, just after we came
on board this evening, that is extremely suspicious, and
which may be set down at once, as a make-weight against
this lad. Jasper bent on the king's ensign, with his own
hands, and while he pretended to be looking at Mabel and
the soldier's wife, giving directions about showing them below,
here, and all that, he got the flag union down!”
“That might have been accident,” returned the serjeant,
“for such a thing has happened to myself; besides, the halyards
lead to a pulley, and the flag would have come right,
or not, according to the manner in which the lad hoisted it.”
“A pulley!” exclaimed Cap, with strong disgust — “I
wish, Serjeant Dunham, I could prevail on you to use proper
terms. An ensign-halyard-block is no more a pulley, than
your halbert is a boarding-pike. It is true, that by hoisting
on one part, another part would go uppermost; but I look
upon that affair of the ensign, now you have mentioned
your suspicions, as a circumstance, and shall bear it in mind.
I trust supper is not to be overlooked, however, even if we
have a hold full of traitors.”
“It will be duly attended to, brother Cap; but I shall
count on you, for aid in managing the Scud, should anything
occur to induce me to arrest Jasper.”
“I 'll not fail you, serjeant; and in such an event you 'll
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probably learn what this cutter can really perform; for as
yet, I fancy it is pretty much matter of guess-work.”
“Well, for my part,” said Pathfinder, drawing a heavy
sigh, “I shall cling to the hope of Jasper's innocence, and
recommend plain dealing, by asking the lad, himself, without
further delay, whether he is, or is not, a traitor. I 'll put
Jasper Western against all the presentiments and circumstances
in the colony.”
“That will never do,” rejoined the serjeant. “The responsibility
of this affair rests with me, and I request and
enjoin, that nothing be said to any one, without my knowledge.
We will all keep watchful eyes about us, and take proper
note of circumstances.”
“Ay — ay — circumstances are the things after all,” returned
Cap.—“One circumstance is worth fifty facts. That
I know to be the law of the realm. Many a man has been
hanged on circumstances.”
The conversation now ceased, and after a short delay, the
whole party returned to the deck, each individual disposed to
view the conduct of the suspected Jasper, in the manner most
suited to his own habits and character.
CHAPTER XIV.
“Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him, half his Troy was burned.
Shakspeare.
All this time, matters were elsewhere passing in their
usual train. Jasper, like the weather, and his vessel, seemed
to be waiting for the land-breeze; while the soldiers, accustomed
to early rising, had, to a man, sought their pallets in
the main hold. None remained on deck but the people of
the cutter, Mr. Muir, and the two females. The Quarter-Master
was endeavouring to render himself agreeable to Mabel,
while our heroine herself, little affected by his assiduities,
which she ascribed partly to the habitual gallantry of a
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soldier, and partly, perhaps, to her own pretty face, was enjoying
the peculiarities of a scene and situation, that, to her,
were full of the charms of novelty.
The sails had been hoisted, but as yet not a breath of air
was in motion, and so still and placid was the lake, that not
the smallest motion was perceptible in the cutter. She had
drifted in the river-current to a distance a little exceeding a
quarter of a mile from the land, and there she lay, beautiful
in her symmetry and form, but like a fixture. Young Jasper
was on the quarter-deck, near enough to hear occasionally
the conversation which passed, but too diffident of his own
claim, and too intent on his duties, to attempt to mingle in it.
The fine blue eyes of Mabel followed his motions in curious
expectation, and more than once the Quarter-Master had to
repeat his compliments, ere she heard them, so intent was she
on the little occurrences of the vessel, and, we might add, so
indifferent to the eloquence of her companion. At length,
even Mr. Muir became silent, and there was a deep stillness
on the water. Presently an oar-blade fell in a boat, beneath
the fort, and the sound reached the cutter as distinctly as if
it had been produced on her deck. Then came a murmur,
like a sigh of the night, a fluttering of the canvass, the
creaking of the boom, and the flap of the jib. These well-known
sounds were followed by a slight heel in the cutter,
and by the bellying of all the sails.
“Here's the wind, Anderson”—called out Jasper to the
oldest of his sailors—“take the helm.”
This brief order was obeyed; the helm was put up, the
cutter's bows fell off, and, in a few minutes, the water was
heard murmuring under her head, as the Scud glanced
through the lake at the rate of five miles in the hour. All
this passed in profound silence, when Jasper again gave the
order to “ease off the sheets a little, and keep her along the
land.”
It was at this instant that the party from the after-cabin
reappeared on the quarter-deck.
“You 've no inclination, Jasper, lad, to trust yourself too
near our neighbours the French,” observed Muir, who took
that occasion to recommence the discourse. “Well, well,
your prudence will never be questioned by me, for I like the
Canadas as little as you can possibly like them yourself!”
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“I hug this shore, Mr. Muir, on account of the wind. The
land-breeze is always freshest close in, provided you are not
so near as to make a lee of the trees. We have Mexico Bay
to cross, and that, on the present course, will give us quite
offing enough.”
“I 'm right glad it 's not the Bay of Mexico,” put in Cap,
“which is a part of the world I would rather not visit in one
of your inland craft. Does your cutter bear a weather helm,
Master Eau-deuce?”
“She is easy on her rudder, Master Cap, but likes looking
up at the breeze as well as another, when in lively motion.”
“I suppose you have such things as reefs, though you can
hardly have occasion to use them?”
Mabel's bright eye detected the smile that gleamed, for an
instant, on Jasper's handsome face, but no one else saw that
momentary exhibition of surprise and contempt.
“We have reefs, and often have occasion to use them,”
quietly returned the young man. “Before we get in, Master
Cap, an opportunity may offer to show you the manner in
which we do so, for there is easterly weather brewing, and
the wind cannot chop, even on the ocean itself, more readily
than it flies round on Lake Ontario.”
“So much for knowing no better! I have seen the wind,
in the Atlantic, fly round like a coach-wheel, in a way to
keep your sails shaking for an hour, and the ship would become
perfectly motionless from not knowing which way to
turn.”
“We have no such sudden changes here, certainly,” Jasper
mildly answered—“though we think ourselves liable to
unexpected shifts of wind. I hope, however, to carry this
land-breeze as far as the first islands; after which, there will
be less danger of our being seen and followed, by any of the
look-out boats from Frontenac.”
“Do you think the French keep spies out on the broad
lake, Jasper?” inquired the Pathfinder.
“We know they do; one was off Oswego, during the
night of Monday last. A bark canoe came close in with the
eastern point, and landed an Indian and an officer. Had you
been out-lying that night, as usual, we should have secured
one, if not both of them.”
It was too dark to betray the colour that decpended on the
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weather-burnt features of the guide, for he felt the consciousness
of having lingered in the fort that night, listening to the
sweet tones of Mabel's voice, as she sang ballads to her father,
and gazing at a countenance that, to him, was radiant
with charms. Probity, in thought and deed, being the distinguishing
quality of this extraordinary man's mind, while
he felt that a sort of disgrace ought to attach to his idleness,
on the occasion mentioned, the last thought that could occur
would be to attempt to palliate, or deny, his negligence.
“I confess it, Jasper, I confess it,” he said, humbly. “Had
I been out that night, and I now recollect no sufficient reason
why I was not—it might, indeed, have turned out as you
say.”
“It was the evening you passed with us, Pathfinder,” Mabel
innocently remarked; “surely one who lives so much of
his time in the forest, in front of the enemy, may be excused
for giving a few hours of his time to an old friend, and his
daughter.”
“Nay, nay, I 've done little else but idle since we reached
the garrison,” returned the other, sighing; “and it is well
that the lad should tell me of it: the idler needs a rebuke—
yes, he needs a rebuke.”
“Rebuke, Pathfinder! I never dreamed of saying anything
disagreeable, and least of all would I think of rebuking you,
because a solitary spy, and an Indian or two, have escaped
us! Now I know where you were, I think your absence the
most natural thing in the world.”
“I think nothing of it, Jasper, I think nothing of what
you said, since it was deserved. We are all human, and all
do wrong.”
“This is unkind, Pathfinder.”
“Give me your hand, lad, give me your hand. It wasn't
you that gave the lesson; it was conscience.”
“Well, well,” interrupted Cap, “now this latter matter is
settled to the satisfaction of all parties, perhaps you will tell
us how it happened to be known that there were spies near
us, so lately. This looks amazingly like a circumstance!”
As the mariner uttered the last sentence, he pressed a foot
slyly on that of the serjeant, and nudged the guide with his
elbow, winking, at the same time, though this sign was lost
in the obscurity.
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“It is known, because their trail was found next day, by
the Serpent, and it was that of a military boot and a moccasin.
One of our hunters, moreover, saw the canoe crossing
towards Frontenac next morning.”
“Did the trail lead near the garrison, Jasper,” Pathfinder
asked in a manner so meek and subdued, that it resembled
the tone of a rebuked school-boy. “Did the trail lead near
the garrison, lad?”
“We thought not—though, of course, it did not cross the
river. It was followed down to the eastern point, at the
river's mouth, where what was doing in port might be seen;
but it did not cross, as we could discover.”
“And why didn't you get under way, Master Jasper,” Cap
demanded, “and give chase? On Tuesday morning it blew
a good breeze; one in which this cutter might have run nine
knots.”
“That may do on the ocean, Master Cap,” put in Pathfinder,
“but it would not do here. Water leaves no trail,
and a Mingo and a Frenchman are a match for the devil, in
a pursuit.”
“Who wants a trail, when the chase can be seen from the
deck, as Jasper, here, said was the case with this canoe? and
it mattered nothing if there were twenty of your Mingos and
Frenchmen, with a good British-built bottom in their wake.
I 'll engage, Master Eau-deuce, had you given me a call, that
said Tuesday morning, that we should have overhauled the
blackguards.”
“I dare say, Master Cap, that the advice of as old a seaman
as you might have done no harm to as young a sailor
as myself, but it is a long and a hopeless chase that has a
bark canoe in it.”
“You would have had only to press it hard, to drive it
ashore.”
“Ashore, Master Cap! You do not understand our lake
navigation at all, if you suppose it an easy matter to force a
bark canoe ashore. As soon as they find themselves pressed,
these bubbles paddle right into the wind's eye, and before
you know it, you find yourself a mile or two, dead under
their lee.”
“You don't wish me to believe, Master Jasper, that any
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one is so heedless of drowning, as to put off into this lake, in
one of them egg-shells, when there is any wind?”
“I have often crossed Ontario in a bark canoe, even when
there has been a good deal of sea on. Well managed, they
are the driest boats of which we have any knowledge.”
Cap now led his brother-in-law and Pathfinder aside, when
he assured him, that the admission of Jasper concerning the
spies was “a circumstance,” and “a strong circumstance,”
and as such, it deserved his deliberate investigation; while
his account of the canoes was so improbable, as to wear the
appearance of browbeating the listeners. Jasper spoke confidently
of the character of the two individuals who had
landed, and this Cap deemed pretty strong proof that he knew
more about them, than was to be gathered from a mere trail.
As for moccasins, he said that they were worn, in that part
of the world, by white men, as well as by Indians; he had
purchased a pair himself; and boots, it was notorious, did not
particularly make a soldier. Although much of this logic
was thrown away on the serjeant, still it produced some effect.
He thought it a little singular himself, that there should
have been spies detected so near the fort, and he know nothing
of it; nor did he believe that this was a branch of
knowledge that fell particularly within the sphere of Jasper.
It was true, that the Scud had, once or twice, been sent across
the lake to land men of this character; or to bring them off;
but then the part played by Jasper, to his own certain knowledge,
was very secondary, the master of the cutter remaining
as ignorant as any one else, of the purport of the visits of
those whom he had carried to and fro; nor did he see why
he, alone, of all present, should know anything of the late
visit. Pathfinder viewed the matter differently. With his
habitual diffidence, he reproached himself with a neglect of
duty, and that knowledge, of which the want struck him as
a fault in one whose business it was to possess it, appeared a
merit in the young man. He saw nothing extraordinary in
Jasper's knowing the facts he had related; while he did feel
it was unusual, not to say disgraceful, that he himself now
heard of them for the first time.
“As for moccasins, Master Cap,” he said, when a short
pause invited him to speak, “they may be worn by pale-faces,
as well as by red-skins, it is true, though they never
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leave the same trail on the foot of one, as on the foot of the
other. Any one who is used to the woods, can tell the footstep
of an Indian from the footstep of a white man, whether
it be made by a boot, or a moccasin. It will need better evidence
than this, to persuade me into the belief that Jasper is
false.”
“You will allow, Pathfinder, that there are such things in
the world as traitors,” put in Cap, logically.
“I never knew an honest-minded Mingo; one that you
could put faith in, if he had a temptation to deceive you.
Cheating seems to be their gift, and I sometimes think they
ought to be pitied for it, rather than parsecuted.”
“Then why not believe that this Jasper may have the
same weakness? A man is a man, and human nature is
sometimes but a poor concern, as I know by experience; I
may say well know by experience; at least I speak for my
own human nature.”
This was the opening of another long and desultory conversation,
in which the probability of Jasper's guilt or innocence
was argued, pro and con, until both the serjeant and his
brother-in-law had nearly reasoned themselves into settled
convictions in favour of the first, while their companion
grew sturdier and sturdier in his defence of the accused,
and still more fixed in his opinion of his being unjustly
charged with treachery. In this there was nothing out of the
common course of things, for there is no more certain way
of arriving at any particular notion, than by undertaking to
defend it; and among the most obstinate of our opinions, may
be classed those which are derived from discussions in which
we affect to search for truth, while in reality we are only
fortifying prejudice. By this time, the serjeant had reached
a state of mind that disposed him to view every act of the
young sailor with distrust, and he soon got to coincide with
his relative in deeming the peculiar knowledge of Jasper, in
reference to the spies, a branch of information that certainly
did not come within the circle of his regular duties, as “a
circumstance.”
While this matter was thus discussed near the taffrail,
Mabel sat silent by the companion-way; Mr. Muir having
gone below, to look after his personal comforts, and Jasper
standing a little aloof, with his arms crossed, and his eyes
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wandering from the sails to the clouds, from the clouds to
the dusky outline of the shore, from the shore to the lake, and
from the lake back again to the sails. Our heroine, too, began
to commune with her own thoughts. The excitement of the
late journey, the incidents which marked the day of her arrival
at the fort, the meeting with a father who was virtually
a stranger to her, the novelty of her late situation in the
garrison, and her present voyage, formed a vista for the
mind's eye to look back through, that seemed lengthened into
months. She could with difficulty believe, that she had so
recently left the town, with all the usages of civilized life;
and she wondered, in particular, that the incidents which had
occurred during the descent of the Oswego, had made so
little impression on her mind. Too inexperienced to know,
that events, when crowded, have the effect of time, or that
the quick succession of novelties that pass before us in
travelling, elevates objects, in a measure, to the dignity of
events, she drew upon her memory for days and dates, in order
to make certain that she had known Jasper, and the Pathfinder,
and her own father, but little more than a fortnight.
Mabel was a girl of heart, rather than of imagination,
though by no means deficient in the last, and she could not
easily account for the strength of her feelings in connection
with those who were so lately strangers to her; for she was
not sufficiently accustomed to analyze her sensations, to understand
the nature of the influences that have just been mentioned.
As yet, however, her pure mind was free from the
blight of distrust, and she had no suspicion of the views of
either of her suitors; and one of the last thoughts that could
have voluntarily disturbed her confidence, would have been
to suppose it possible either of her companions was a traitor
to his king and country.
America, at the time of which we are writing, was remarkable
for its attachment to the German family, that then
sat on the British throne; for, as is the fact with all provinces,
the virtues and qualities that are proclaimed near the centre
of power, as incense and policy, get to be a part of political
faith, with the credulous and ignorant, at a distance. This
truth is just as apparent to-day, in connection with the prodigies
of the republic, as it then was in connection with those
distant rulers, whose merits it was always safe to applaud,
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and whose demerits it was treason to reveal. It is a consequence
of this mental dependence, that public opinion is
so much placed at the mercy of the designing; and the
world, in the midst of its idle boasts of knowledge and
improvement, is left to receive its truths, on all such
points as touch the interests of the powerful and managing,
through such a medium, and such a medium only, as may
serve the particular views of those who pull the wires.
Pressed upon by the subjects of France, who were then encircling
the British colonies, with a belt of forts and settlements,
that completely secured the savages for allies, it
would have been difficult to say, whether the Americans
loved the English more than they hated the French; and
those who then lived probably would have considered the
alliance which took place between the cis-Atlantic subjects
and the ancient rivals of the British crown, some twenty
years later, as an event entirely without the circle of probabilities.
In a word, as fashions are exaggerated in a province,
so are opinions; and the loyalty, that, at London,
merely formed a part of a political scheme, at New York
was magnified into a faith that might almost have moved
mountains. Disaffection was, consequently, a rare offence;
and, most of all, would treason, that should favour France, or
Frenchmen, have been odious in the eyes of the provincials.
The last thing that Mabel would suspect of Jasper, was the
very crime with which he now stood secretly charged; and,
if others near her endured the pains of distrust, she, at least,
was filled with the generous confidence of a woman. As
yet, no whisper had reached her ear to disturb the feeling of
reliance with which she had early regarded the young sailor,
and her own mind would have been the last to suggest such
a thought, of itself. The pictures of the past and of the
present, therefore, that exhibited themselves so rapidly to her
active imagination, were unclouded with a shade that might
affect any in whom she felt an interest; and ere she had
mused, in the manner related, a quarter of an hour, the whole
scene around her was filled with unalloyed satisfaction.
The season and the night, to represent them truly, were
of a nature to stimulate the sensations which youth, health,
and happiness are wont to associate with novelty. The weather
was warm, as is not always the case in that region even
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in summer, while the air that came off the land, in breathing
currents, brought with it the coolness and fragrance of the
forest. The wind was far from being fresh, though there
was enough of it to drive the Scud merrily ahead, and, perhaps,
to keep attention alive, in the uncertainty that, more or
less, accompanies darkness. Jasper, however, appeared to
regard it with complacency, as was apparent by what he
said in a short dialogue that now occurred between him and
Mabel.
“At this rate, Eau-douce,” for so Mabel had already
learned to style the young sailor, said our heroine, “we cannot
be long in reaching our place of destination.”
“Has your father then told you what that is, Mabel?”
“He has told me nothing; my father is too much of a
soldier, and too little used to have a family around him, to
talk of such matters. Is it forbidden to say whither we are
bound?”
“It cannot be far, while we steer in this direction, for sixty
or seventy miles will take us into the St. Lawrence, which
the French might make too hot for us; and no voyage on
this lake can be very long.”
“So says my uncle Cap; but, to me, Jasper, Ontario and
the ocean appear very much the same.”
“You have then been on the ocean, while I, who pretend
to be a sailor, have never yet seen salt-water! You must
have a great contempt for such a mariner, as myself, in your
heart, Mabel Dunham!”
“Then I have no such thing, in my heart, Jasper Eaudouce.
What right have I, a girl without experience or
knowledge, to despise any; much less one like you, who
are trusted by the major and who command a vessel like
this! I have never been on the ocean, though I have seen
it; and, I repeat, I see no difference between this lake and
the Atlantic.”
“Nor, in them that sail on both? I was afraid, Mabel,
your uncle has said so much against us fresh-water sailors,
that you had begun to look upon us as little better than pretenders.”
“Give yourself no uneasiness on that account, Jasper, for
I know my uncle, and he says as many things against those
who live ashore, when at York, as he now says against those
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who sail on fresh-water. No—no; neither my father, nor
myself, think any thing of such opinions! My uncle Cap, if
he spoke openly, would be found to have even a worse notion
of a soldier, than of a sailor who never saw the sea.”
“But your father, Mabel, has a better opinion of soldiers,
than of any one else; he wishes you to be the wife of a
soldier.”
“Jasper Eau-douce!—I, the wife of a soldier!—My father
wishes it!—Why should he wish any such thing—what soldier
is there in the garrison that I could marry—that he
could wish me to marry?”
“One may love a calling so well, as to fancy it will cover
a thousand imperfections.”
“But one is not likely to love his own calling so well, as
to cause him to overlook every thing else. You say my
father wishes me to marry a soldier, and yet there is no soldier,
at Oswego, that he would be likely to give me to. I
am in an awkward position, for while I am not good enough
to be the wife of one of the gentlemen of the garrison, I think,
even you will admit, Jasper, I am too good to be the wife of
one of the common soldiers.”
As Mabel spoke thus frankly, she blushed, she knew not
why, though the obscurity concealed the fact from her companion;
and she laughed faintly, like one who felt that the
subject, however embarrassing it might be, deserved to be
treated fairly. Jasper, it would seem, viewed her position
differently from herself.
“It is true, Mabel,” he said, “you are not what is called
a lady, in the common meaning of the word—”
“Not in any meaning, Jasper,” the generous girl eagerly
interrupted; “on that head, I have no vanities, I hope.
Providence has made me the daughter of a serjeant, and I
am content to remain in the station in which I was born.”
“But all do not remain in the stations in which they were
born, Mabel, for some rise above them, and some fall below
them. Many serjeants have become officers—even generals;
and why may not serjeants' daughters become officers'
ladies?”
“In the case of Serjeant Dunham's daughter, I know no
better reason than the fact that no officer is likely to wish to
make her his wife,” returned Mabel, laughing.
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“You may think so; but there are some in the 55th, that
know better. There is certainly one officer in that regiment,
Mabel, who does wish to make you his wife.”
Quick as the flashing lightning, the rapid thoughts of
Mabel Durham glanced over the five or six subalterns of the
corps, who, by age and inclinations, would be the most likely
to form such a wish; and we should do injustice to her
habits, perhaps, were we not to say that a lively sensation of
pleasure rose momentarily in her bosom, at the thought of
being raised above a station which, whatever might be her
professions of contentment, she felt that she had been too
well educated to fill with perfect satisfaction. But this emotion
was as transient as it was sudden, for Mabel Dunham
was a girl of too much pure and womanly feeling, to view
the marriage tie, through anything so worldly as the mere
advantages of station. The passing emotion, was a thrill
produced by factitious habits, while the more settled opinion
which remained, was the offspring of nature and principles.
“I know no officer in the 55th, or any other regiment,
who would be likely to do so foolish a thing; nor do I think
I myself, would do so foolish a thing, as to marry an officer.”
“Foolish, Mabel!”
“Yes, foolish, Jasper. You know, as well as I can know,
what the world would think of such matters, and I should be
sorry, very sorry, to find that my husband ever regretted
that he had so far yielded to a fancy for a face, or a figure,
as to have married the daughter of one so much his inferior
as a serjeant.”
“Your husband, Mabel, will not be so likely to think of
the father, as to think of the daughter.”
The girl was talking with spirit, though feeling evidently
entered into her part of the discourse; but she paused for
near a minute after Jasper had made the last observation,
before she uttered another word. Then she continued in a
manner less playful, and one critically attentive might have
fancied in a manner that was slightly melancholy:
“Parent and child ought so to live as not to have two
hearts, or two modes of feeling and thinking. A common
interest in all things, I should think as necessary to happiness
in man and wife, as between the other members of the same
family. Most of all, ought neither the man nor the woman
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to have any unusual cause for unhappiness, the world furnishing
so many of itself.”
“Am I to understand, then, Mabel, you would refuse to
marry an officer, merely because he was an officer?”
“Have you a right to ask such a question, Jasper?” said
Mabel, smiling.
“No other right, than what a strong desire to see you
happy can give, which, after all, may be very little. My
anxiety has been increased, from happening to know that it
is your father's intention to persuade you to marry Lieutenant
Muir.”
“My dear, dear father, can entertain no notion so ridiculous;
no notion so cruel!”
“Would it, then, be cruel to wish you the wife of a Quarter-Master?”
“I have told you what I think on that subject, and cannot
make my words stronger. Having answered you so frankly,
Jasper, I have a right to ask how you know that my father
thinks of any such thing?”
“That he has chosen a husband for you, I know from his
own mouth; for he has told me this much during our frequent
conversations, while he has been superintending the
shipment of the stores: and that Mr. Muir is to offer for you,
I know from the officer himself; who has told me as much.
By putting the two things together, I have come to the opinion
mentioned.”
“May not my dear father, Jasper,”—Mabel's face glowed
like fire while she spoke, though her words escaped her
slowly, and by a sort of involuntary impulse,—“May not
my dear father have been thinking of another? It does not
follow, from what you say, that Mr. Muir was in his mind.”
“Is it not probable, Mabel, from all that has passed?
What brings the Quarter-Master here? He has never found
it necessary, before, to accompany the parties that have gone
below: he thinks of you for his wife; and your father has
made up his own mind that you shall be so. You must see,
Mabel, that Mr. Muir follows you?”
Mabel made no answer. Her feminine instinct had, indeed,
told her that she was an object of admiration with the Quarter-Master,
though she had hardly supposed to the extent
that Jasper believed: and she, too, had even gathered from
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the discourse of her father, that he thought seriously of
having her disposed of in marriage; but, by no process of
reasoning, could she ever have arrived at the inference that
Mr. Muir was to be the man. She did not believe it now,—
though she was far from suspecting the truth. Indeed, it was
her own opinion, that these casual remarks of her father,
which had struck her, had proceeded from a general wish to
have her settled, rather than from any desire to see her united
to any particular individual. These thoughts, however, she
kept secret; for self-respect, and feminine reserve, showed
her the impropriety of making them the subject of discussion
with her present companion. By way of changing the conversation,
therefore, after the pause had lasted long enough
to be embarrassing to both parties, she said,—
“Of one thing you may be certain, Jasper; and that is all
I wish to say on the subject:—Lieutenant Muir, though he
were a colonel, will never be the husband of Mabel Dunham.
And now, tell me of your voyage; — when will it
end?”
“That is uncertain. Once afloat, we are at the mercy
of the winds and waves. Pathfinder will tell you, that he
who begins to chase the deer in the morning, cannot tell
where he will sleep at night.”
“But we are not chasing a deer; nor is it morning: so
Pathfinder's moral is thrown away.”
“Although we are not chasing a deer, we are after that
which may be as hard to catch. I can tell you no more
than I have said already; for it is our duty to be closemouthed,
whether anything depends on it or not. I am
afraid, however, I shall not keep you long enough in the
Scud, to show you what she can do at need.”
“I think a woman unwise who ever marries a sailor,”
said Mabel, abruptly, and almost involuntarily.
“This is a strange opinion; why do you hold it?”
“Because a sailor's wife is certain to have a rival in his
vessel. My uncle Cap, too, says that a sailor should never
marry.”
“He means salt-water sailors,” returned Jasper, laughing.
“If he thinks wives not good enough for those who sail on
the ocean, he will fancy them just suited to those who sail
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on the lakes. I hope, Mabel, you do not take your opinions
of us fresh-water mariners from all that Master Cap says.”
“Sail, ho!” exclaimed the very individual of whom they
were conversing; — “or boat, ho! would be nearer the
truth.”
Jasper ran forward; and, sure enough, a small object was
discernible about a hundred yards ahead of the cutter, and
nearly on her lee bow. At the first glance, he saw it was a
bark canoe; for, though the darkness prevented hues from
being distinguished, the eye that had got to be accustomed
to the night, might discern forms at some little distance; and
the eye which, like Jasper's, had long been familiar with
things aquatic, could not be at a loss in discovering the outlines
necessary to come to the conclusion he did.
“This may be an enemy;” the young man remarked;
“and it may be well to overhaul him.”
“He is paddling with all his might, lad,” observed the
Pathfinder, “and means to cross your bows and get to windward,
when you might as well chase a full-grown buck on
snow-shoes!”
“Let her luff!”—cried Jasper, to the man at the helm.—
“Luff up, till she shakes,—there, steady, and hold all that.”
The helmsman complied, and, as the Scud was now dashing
the water aside, merrily, a minute or two, put the canoe
so far to leeward as to render escape impracticable. Jasper
now sprang to the helm, himself, and by judicious and careful
handling, he got so near his chase that it was secured by
a boat-hook. On receiving an order, the two persons who
were in the canoe, left it, and no sooner had they reached
the deck of the cutter, than they were found to be Arrowhead
and his wife.
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CHAPTER XV.
“What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up;
But which the poor and the despised of all
Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me—and I will tell thee what is truth.”
Cowper.
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The meeting with the Indian and his wife, excited no surprise
in the majority of those who witnessed the occurrence,
but Mabel, and all who knew of the manner in which this
chief had been separated from the party of Cap, simultaneously
entertained suspicions, which it was far easier to feel,
than to follow out, by any plausible clue to certainty. Pathfinder,
who, alone, could converse freely with the prisoners,
for such they might now be considered, took Arrowhead
aside, and held a long conversation with him, concerning the
reasons of the latter for having deserted his charge, and the
manner in which he had been since employed.
The Tuscarora met these inquiries, and he gave his answers
with the stoicism of an Indian. As respects the
separation, his excuses were very simply made, and they
seemed to be sufficiently plausible. When he found that the
party was discovered in its place of concealment, he naturally
sought his own safety, which he secured by plunging into the
woods, for he made no doubt that all who could not effect
this much, would be massacred on the spot. In a word, he
had run away, in order to save his life.
“This is well,” returned Pathfinder, affecting to believe
the other's apologies; “my brother did very wisely; but his
woman followed?”
“Do not the pale-faces' women follow their husbands?
Would not Pathfinder have looked back to see if one he
loved was coming?”
This appeal was made to the guide, while he was in a
most fortunate frame of mind to admit its force; for Mabel,
and her blandishments and constancy, were getting to be
images familiar to his thoughts. The Tuscarora, though he
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could not trace the reason, saw that his excuse was admitted,
and he stood, with quiet dignity, awaiting the next inquiry.
“This is reasonable and natural,” returned Pathfinder in
English, passing from one language to the other, insensibly
to himself, as his feelings or habit dictated—“this is natural,
and may be so. A woman would be likely to follow
the man to whom she had plighted faith, and husband and
wife are one flesh. Mabel, herself, would have been likely
to follow the serjeant, had he been present, and retreated in
this manner; and, no doubt, no doubt, the warm-hearted girl
would have followed her husband! Your words are honest,
Tuscarora,” changing the language to the dialect of the other.
“Your words are honest, and very pleasant, and just. But
why has my brother been so long from the fort? his friends
have thought of him often, but have never seen him!”
“If the doe follows the buck, ought not the buck to follow
the doe!” answered the Tuscarora smiling, as he laid a finger
significantly on the shoulder of his interrogator. “Arrowhead's
wife followed Arrowhead; it was right in Arrowhead
to follow his wife. She lost her way, and they made her
cook in a strange wigwam.”
“I understand you, Tuscarora. The woman fell into the
hands of the Mingos, and you kept upon their trail.”
“Pathfinder can see a reason, as easily as he can see the
moss on the trees. It is so.”
“And how long have you got the woman back, and in
what manner has it been done?”
“Two suns. The Dew of June was not long in coming,
when her husband whispered to her the path.”
“Well, well, all this seems natural, and according to matrimony.
But, Tuscarora, how did you get that canoe, and
why are you paddling towards the St. Lawrence, instead of
the garrison?”
“Arrowhead can tell his own from that of another. This
canoe is mine; I found it on the shore, near the fort.”
“That sounds reasonable, too, for the canoe does belong
to the man, and an Indian would make few words about taking
it. Still, it is extraordinary that we saw nothing of the
fellow and his wife, for the canoe must have left the river before
we did ourselves.”
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This idea, which passed rapidly through the mind of the
guide, was now put to the Indian in the shape of a question.
“Pathfinder knows that a warrior can have shame. The
father would have asked me for his daughter, and I could not
give him to her. I sent the Dew of June for the canoe, and
no one spoke to the woman. A Tuscarora woman would
not be free in speaking to strange men.”
All this, too, was plausible, and in conformity with Indian
character, and Indian customs. As was usual, Arrowhead
had received one half of his compensation previously to quitting
the Mohawk; and his refraining to demand the residue
was a proof of that conscientious consideration of mutual
rights that quite as often distinguishes the morality of a savage,
as that of a Christian. To one as upright as Pathfinder,
Arrowhead had conducted himself with delicacy and propriety,
though it would have been more in accordance with his
own frank nature, to have met the father, and abided by the
simple truth. Still, accustomed to the ways of Indians, he
saw nothing out of the ordinary track of things, in the course
the other had taken.
“This runs like water flowing down hill, Arrowhead,”
he answered, after a little reflection, “and truth obliges me
to own it. It was the gift of a red-skin to act in this way,
though I do not think it was the gift of a pale-face. You
would not look upon the grief of the girl's father?”
Arrowhead made a quiet inclination of the body, as if to
assent.
“One thing more my brother will tell me,” continued Pathfinder,
“and there will be no cloud between his wigwam and
the strong-house of the Yengeese. If he can blow away this
bit of fog, with his breath, his friends will look at him, as he
sits by his own fire, and he can look at them, as they lay
aside their arms, and forget that they are warriors. Why
was the head of Arrowhead's canoe looking towards the St.
Lawrence, where there are none but enemies to be found?”
“Why were the Pathfinder and his friends looking the
same way?” asked the Tuscarora, calmly. “A Tuscarora
may look in the same direction as a Yengeese.”
“Why, to own the truth, Arrowhead, we are out scouting,
like;—that is sailing—in other words, we are on the king's
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business, and we have a right to be here, though we may not
have a right to say why we are here.”
“Arrowhead saw the big canoe, and he loves to look on
the face of Eau-douce. He was going towards the sun at
evening, in order to seek his wigwam; but finding that the
young sailor was going the other way, he turned that he
might look in the same direction. Eau-douce and Arrowhead
were together on the last trail.”
“This may all be true, Tuscarora, and you are welcome.
You shall eat of our venison, and then we must separate.
The setting sun is behind us, and both of us move quick: my
brother will get too far from that which he seeks, unless he
turns round.”
Pathfinder now returned to the others, and repeated the
result of his examination. He appeared himself to believe
that the account of Arrowhead might be true, though he admitted
that caution would be prudent with one he disliked;
but his auditors, Jasper excepted, seemed less disposed to put
faith in the explanations.
“This chap must be ironed at once, brother Dunham,”
said Cap, as soon as Pathfinder finished his narration; “he
must be turned over to the master-at-arms, if there is any
such officer on fresh-water, and a court-martial ought to be
ordered as soon as we reach port.”
“I think it wisest to detain the fellow,” the serjeant answered,
“but irons are unnecessary so long as he remains
in the cutter. In the morning the matter shall be inquired
into.”
Arrowhead was now summoned and told the decision. The
Indian listened gravely, and made no objections. On the
contrary, he submitted with the calm and reserved dignity
with which the American Aborigines are known to yield to
fate; and he stood apart, an attentive but calm observer of
what was passing. Jasper caused the cutter's sails to be filled,
and the Scud resumed her course.
It was now getting near the hour to set the watch, and
when it was usual to retire for the night. Most of the party
went below, leaving no one on deck but Cap, the serjeant,
Jasper, and two of the crew. Arrowhead and his wife also
remained, the former standing aloof in proud reserve, and the
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latter exhibiting, by her attitude and passiveness, the meek
humility that characterizes an Indian woman.
“You will find a place for your wife below, Arrowhead,
where my daughter will attend to her wants,” said the serjeant,
kindly, who was himself on the point of quitting the
deck; “yonder is a sail, where you may sleep yourself.”
“I thank my father. The Tuscaroras are not poor. The
woman will look for my blankets in the canoe.”
“As you wish, my friend. We think it necessary to detain
you, but not necessary to confine, or to maltreat you.
Send your squaw into the canoe for the blankets, and you
may follow her yourself, and hand us up the paddles. As
there may be some sleepy heads in the Scud, Eau-douce,”
added the serjeant, in a lower tone, “it may be well to secure
the paddles.”
Jasper assented, and Arrowhead and his wife, with whom
resistance appeared to be out of the question, silently complied
with the directions. A few expressions of sharp
rebuke passed from the Indian to his wife, while both were
employed in the canoe, which the latter received with submissive
quiet, immediately repairing an error she had made,
by laying aside the blanket she had taken, and searching
another that was more to her tyrant's mind.
“Come, bear a hand, Arrowhead,” said the serjeant, who
stood on the gunwale, overlooking the movements of the
two, which were proceeding too slowly for the impatience of
a drowsy man; “it is getting late; and we soldiers have
such a thing as reveillé—early to bed and early to rise.”
“Arrowhead is coming,” was the answer, as the Tuscarora
stepped towards the head of his canoe.
One blow of his keen knife severed the rope which held the
boat, and then the cutter glanced ahead, leaving the light
bubble of bark, which instantly lost its way, almost stationary.
So suddenly and dexterously was this manœuvre performed,
that the canoe was on the lee quarter of the Scud,
before the serjeant was aware of the artifice, and quite in her
wake, ere he had time to announce it to his companions.
“Hard-a-lee!” shouted Jasper, letting fly the jib-sheet with
his own hands, when the cutter came swiftly up to the breeze,
with all her canvass flapping, or was running into the wind's
eye, as seamen term it, until the light craft was a hundred feet
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to windward of her former position. Quick and dexterous as
was this movement, and ready as had been the expedient, it
was not quicker, or more ready, than that of the Tuscarora.
With an intelligence that denoted some familiarity with vessels,
he had seized his paddle, and was already skimming the
water, aided by the efforts of his wife. The direction he
took was south-westerly, or on a line that led him equally
towards the wind and the shore, while it also kept him so far
aloof from the cutter, as to avoid the danger of the latter's
falling on board of him, when she filled on the other tack.
Swiftly as the Scud had shot into the wind, and far as she
had forged ahead, Jasper knew it was necessary to cast her,
ere she had lost all her way; and it was not two minutes
from the time the helm had been put down, before the lively
little craft was aback forward, and rapidly falling off, in
order to allow her sails to fill on the opposite tack.
“He will escape!” said Jasper, the instant he caught a
glimpse of the relative bearings of the cutter and the canoe.
“The cunning knave is paddling dead to windward, and the
Scud can never overtake him!”
“You have a canoe!” exclaimed the serjeant, manifesting
the eagerness of a boy to join in the pursuit, “let us launch
it, and give chase!”
“'T will be useless. If Pathfinder had been on deck,
there might have been a chance; but there is none now. To
launch the canoe would have taken three or four minutes;
and the time lost would be sufficient for the purposes of
Arrowhead.”
Both Cap and the serjeant saw the truth of this, which
would have been nearly self-evident even to one unaccustomed
to vessels. The shore was distant less than half a mile, and
the canoe was already glancing into its shadows, at a rate
to show that it would reach the land ere its pursuers could
probably get half the distance. The canoe, itself, might
have been seized, but it would have been a useless prize; for,
Arrowhead, in the woods, would be more likely to reach the
other shore without detection, than if he still possessed the
means to venture on the lake again; though it might be, and
probably would be, a greater bodily labour to himself. The
helm of the Scud was reluctantly put up again, and the cutter
wore short round on her heel, coming up to her course
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on the other tack, as if acting on an instinct. All this was
done by Jasper in profound silence, his assistants understanding
what was necessary, and lending their aid in a sort of
mechanical imitation. While these manœuvres were in the
course of execution, Cap took the serjeant by a button, and
led him towards the cabin-door, where he was out of earshot,
and began to unlock his stores of thought.
“Harkee, brother Dunham,” he said with an ominous face,
“this is a matter that requires mature thought, and much
circumspection.”
“The life of a soldier, brother Cap, is one of constant
thought and circumspection. On this frontier, were we to
overlook either, our scalps might be taken from our heads in
the first nap.”
“But I consider this capture of Arrowhead as a circumstance—
and I might add his escape as another. This Jasper
Fresh-water must look to it!”
“They are both circumstances truly, brother; but they
tell different ways. If it is a circumstance against the lad,
that the Indian has escaped, it is a circumstance in his favour,
that he was first taken.”
“Ay, ay, but two circumstances do not contradict each
other, like two negatives. If you will follow the advice of
an old seaman, serjeant, not a moment is to be lost, in taking
the steps necessary for the security of the vessel, and all on
board of her. The cutter is now slipping through the water
at the rate of six knots, and as the distances are so short on
this bit of a pond, we may all find ourselves in a French
port before morning, and in a French prison before night.”
“This may be true enough; what would you advise me
to do, brother?”
“In my opinion you should put this Master Fresh-water
under arrest, on the spot; send him below, under the charge
of a sentinel, and transfer the command of the cutter to me.
All this you have power to perform, the craft belonging to
the army, and you being the commanding officer of the
troops present.”
Serjeant Dunham deliberated more than an hour on the
propriety of this proposal; for, though sufficiently prompt
when his mind was really made up, he was habitually
thoughtful and wary. The habit of superintending the
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personal police of the garrison had made him acquainted with
character, and he had long been disposed to think well of
Jasper. Still that subtle poison, suspicion, had entered his
soul; and so much were the artifices and intrigues of the
French dreaded, that, especially warned as he had been by
his commander, it is not to be wondered the recollection of
years of good conduct, should vanish under the influence of
a distrust so keen, and seemingly so plausible. In this embarrassment,
the serjeant consulted the Quarter-Master, whose
opinion, as his superior, he felt bound to respect, though, at
the moment, independent of his control. It is an unfortunate
occurrence, for one who is in a dilemma, to ask advice of
another who is desirous of standing well in his favour; the
party consulted being almost certain to try to think in the
manner which will be the most agreeable to the party consulting.
In the present instance, it was equally unfortunate,
as respects a candid consideration of the subject, that Cap,
instead of the serjeant himself, made the statement of the
case; for the earnest old sailor was not backward in letting
his listener perceive to which side he was desirous that the
Quarter-Master should lean. Lieutenant Muir was much too
politic to offend the uncle and father of the woman he hoped
and expected to win, had he really thought the case admitted
of doubt; but, in the manner in which the facts were submitted
to him, he was seriously inclined to think that it would
be well to put the control of the Scud temporarily into the
management of Cap, as a precaution against treachery. This
opinion then decided the serjeant, who, forthwith, set about
the execution of the necessary measures.
Without entering into any explanations, Serjeant Dunham
simply informed Jasper, that he felt it to be his duty to deprive
him, temporarily, of the command of the cutter, and to
confer it on his own brother-in-law. A natural and involuntary
burst of surprise, which escaped the young man, was
met by a quiet remark, reminding him that military service
was often of a nature that required concealment, and a declaration
that the present duty was of such a character, that
this particular arrangement had become indispensable. Although
Jasper's astonishment remained undiminished—the
serjeant cautiously abstaining from making any allusion to
his suspicions — the young man was accustomed to obey
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with military submission; and he quietly acquiesced—with
his own mouth directing the little crew to receive their further
orders from Cap, until another change should be effected.
When, however, he was told the case required that not only
he, himself, but his principal assistant, who, on account of
his long acquaintance with the lake, was usually termed the
pilot, were to remain below, there was an alteration in his
countenance and manner that denoted strong feeling, though
it was so well mastered as to leave even the distrustful Cap
in doubt as to its meaning. As a matter of course, however,
when distrust exists, it was not long before the worst
construction was put upon it.
As soon as Jasper and the pilot were below, the sentinel at
the hatch received private orders to pay particular attention
to both; to allow neither to come on deck again without giving
instant notice to the person who might then be in charge
of the cutter, and to insist on his return below, as soon as
possible. This precaution, however, was uncalled for; Jasper
and his assistant, both throwing themselves silently on
their pallets, which neither quitted again that night.
“And, now, serjeant,” said Cap, as soon as he found himself
master of the deck, “you will just have the goodness to
give me the courses and distance, that I may see the boat
keeps her head the right way.”
“I know nothing of either, brother Cap,” returned Dunham,
not a little embarrassed at the question. “We must
make the best of our way to the station among the Thousand
Islands, where `we shall land, relieve the party that is already
out, and get information for our future government.' That 's
it, nearly word for word, as it stands in the written orders.”
“But you can muster a chart—something in the way of
bearings and distances, that I may see the road?”
“I do not think Jasper ever had anything of the sort to
go by.”
“No chart, Serjeant Dunham!”
“Not a scrap of a pen, even. Our sailors navigate this
lake without any aid from maps.”
“The devil they do!—They must be regular Yahoos.
And do you suppose, Serjeant Dunham, that I can find one
island out of a thousand, without knowing its name, or its
position—without even a course, or a distance?”
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“As for the name, brother Cap, you need not be particular,
for not one of the whole thousand has a name, and so a
mistake can never be made on that score. As for the position,
never having been there myself, I can tell you nothing
about it, nor do I think its position of any particular consequence,
provided we find the spot. Perhaps one of the hands
on deck can tell us the way.”
“Hold on, serjeant—hold on, a moment, if you please,
Serjeant Dunham. If I am to command this craft, it must be
done, if you please, without holding any councils of war with
the cook and cabin-boy. A ship-master is a ship-master,
and he must have an opinion of his own, even if it be a
wrong one. I suppose you know service well enough to understand
that it is better in a commander to go wrong, than
to go nowhere. At all events, the Lord High Admiral
could n't command a yawl with dignity, if he consulted the
cockswain every time he wished to go ashore. No—sir—if
I sink, I sink; but d—e, I 'll go down ship-shape and with
dignity.”
“But, brother Cap, I have no wish to go down anywhere,
unless it be to the station among the Thousand Islands, whither
we are bound.”
“Well, well, serjeant, rather than ask advice, that is, direct,
bare-faced advice, of a fore-mast hand, or any other than a
quarter-deck officer, I would go round to the whole thousand
and examine them one by one, until we got the right haven.
But, there is such a thing as coming at an opinion without
manifesting ignorance, and I will manage to rowse all there
is, out of these hands, and make them think, all the while, that
I am cramming them with my own experience. We are
sometimes obliged to use the glass at sea, when there is nothing
in sight, or to heave the lead, long before we strike
soundings. I suppose you know in the army, serjeant, that
the next thing to knowing that which is desirable, is to seem
to know all about it. When a youngster, I sailed two v'y'ges
with a man who navigated his ship pretty much by the latter
sort of information, which sometimes answers.”
“I know we are steering in the right direction, at present,”
returned the serjeant, “but in the course of a few hours we
shall be up with a headland, where we must feel our way
with more caution.”
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“Leave me to pump the man at the wheel, brother, and
you shall see that I will make him suck, in a very few minutes.”
Cap and the sergeant now walked aft, until they stood by
the sailor who was at the helm, Cap maintaining an air of
security and tranquillity, like one who was entirely confident
of his own powers.
“This is a wholesome air, my lad,” Cap observed, as it
might be incidentally, and in the manner that a superior on
board a vessel sometimes condescends to use to a favoured
inferior. “Of course, you have it in this fashion, off the land,
every night?”
“At this season of the year sir,” the man returned, touching
his hat, out of respect to his new commander and Serjeant
Dunham's connexion.
“The same thing, I take it, among the Thousand Islands?—
The wind will stand of course, though we shall then have
land on every side of us.”
“When we get further east, sir, the wind will probably
shift, for there can then be no particular land-breeze.”
“Ay, ay—so much for your fresh-water! It has always
some trick that is opposed to nature. Now, down among the
West India Islands, one is just as certain of having a land-breeze,
as he is of having a sea-breeze. In that respect there
is no difference, though it 's quite in rule it should be different
up here, on this bit of fresh-water. Of course, my lad,
you know all about these said Thousand Islands?”
“Lord bless you, Master Cap, nobody knows all about
them, or anything about them. They are a puzzle to the
oldest sailor on the lake, and we don't pretend to know
even their names. For that matter, most of them have no
more names than a child that dies before it is christened.”
“Are you a Roman Catholic?”—demanded the serjeant,
sharply.
“No, sir, nor anything else. I'm a generalizer about
religion, never troubling that which don't trouble me.”
“Hum! a generalizer; that is, no doubt, one of the new
sects that afflict the country!” muttered Mr. Dunham, whose
grandfather had been a New Jersey Quaker, his father a
Presbyterian, and who had joined the church of England
himself, after he entered the army.
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“I take it, John,” resumed Cap—“your name is Jack, I
believe?”
“No, sir; I am called Robert.”
“Ay, Robert—it 's very much the same thing—Jack, or
Bob—we use the two indifferently. I say, Bob, it 's good
holding-ground, is it, down at this same station for which we
are bound?”
“Bless you, sir, I know no more about it than one of the
Mohawks, or a soldier of the 55th.”
“Did you never anchor there?”
“Never, sir. Master Eau-douce always makes fast to the
shore.”
“But in running in for the town, you kept the lead going,
out of question, and must have tallowed as usual?”
“Tallow! and town, too! Bless your heart, Master Cap,
there is no more town than there is on your chin, and not
half as much tallow.”
The serjeant smiled grimly, but his brother-in-law did not
detect this proof of facetiousness.
“No church-tower, nor light, nor fort, ha! There is a
garrison, as you call it hereaway, at least.”
“Ask Serjeant Dunham, sir, if you wish to know that!
All the garrison is on board the Scud.”
“But, in running in, Bob, which of the channels do you
think the best, the one you went last, or—or—or—ay, or the
other?”
“I can't say, sir. I know nothing of either.”
“You didn't go to sleep, fellow, at the wheel, did you?”
“Not at the wheel, sir, but down in the fore-peak, in my
berth. Eau-douce sent us below, soldiers and all, with the
exception of the pilot, and we know no more of the road than
if we had never been over it. This he has always done, in
going in and coming out; and, for the life of me, I could tell
you nothing of the channel, or of the course, after we are
once fairly up with the islands. No one knows anything of
either, but Jasper and the pilot.”
“Here is a circumstance for you, serjeant!” said Cap,
leading his brother-in-law a little aside—“there is no one on
board to pump, for they all suck from ignorance, at the first
stroke of the brake. How the devil am I to find the way to
this station, for which we are bound?”
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“Sure enough, brother Cap; your question is more easily
put than answered. Is there no such thing as figuring it out
by navigation? I thought you salt-water mariners were able
to do as small a thing as that! I have often read of their
discovering islands, surely.”
“That you have, brother; that you have; and this discovery
would be the greatest of them all, for it would not
only be discovering one island, but one island out of a thousand.
I might make out to pick up a single needle on this
deck, old as I am, but I much doubt if I could pick one out of
a haystack.”
“Still, the sailors of the lake have a method of finding the
places they wish to go to.”
“If I have understood you, serjeant, this station, or block-house,
is particularly private?”
“It is indeed; the utmost care having been taken to prevent
a knowledge of its position from reaching the enemy.”
“And you expect me, a stranger on your lake, to find this
place without chart, course, distance, latitude, longitude, or
soundings—ay, d—e, or tallow! Allow me to ask if
you think a mariner runs by his nose, like one of Pathfinder's
hounds?”
“Well, brother, you may yet learn something by questioning
the young man at the helm; I can hardly think that he
is as ignorant as he pretends to be.”
“Hum—this looks like another circumstance! For that
matter, the case is getting to be so full of circumstances, that
one hardly knows how to foot up the evidence. But we will
soon see how much the lad knows.”
Cap and the serjeant now returned to their station near the
helm, and the former renewed his inquiries.
“Do you happen to know what may be the latitude and
longitude of this said island, my lad?” he asked.
“The what, sir?”
“Why, the latitude or longitude; one or both; I 'm not
particular which, as I merely inquire in order to see how
they bring up young men on this bit of fresh-water.”
“I 'm not particular about either, myself, sir, and so I do
not happen to know what you mean.”
“Not what I mean!—You know what latitude is?”
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“Not I, sir,” returned the man, hesitating, “though I believe
it is French, for the upper lakes.”
“Whe-e-e-w,” whistled Cap, drawing out his breath, like
the broken stop of an organ; “latitude, French for upper
lakes! Harkee, young man; do you know what longitude
means?”
“I believe I do, sir—that is five feet six, the regulation
height for soldiers in the king's service.”
“There 's the longitude found out for you, serjeant, in the
rattling of a brace-block! You have some notion about a
degree, and minutes, and seconds, I hope?”
“Yes, sir, degree means my betters, and minutes and
seconds are for the short or long log-lines. We all know
these things, as well as the salt-water people.”
“D—e, brother Dunham, if I think even Faith can get
along on this lake, much as they say it can do with mountains.
I 'm sure character is in no security. Well, my lad,
you understand the azimuth, and measuring distances, and
how to box the compass.”
“As for the first, sir, I can't say I do. The distances we
all know, as we measure them from point to point, and as
for boxing the compass, I will turn my back to no admiral
in his Majesty's fleet. Nothe-nothe and by east, nothe-nothe-east,
nothe-east and by nothe, nothe-east; nothe-east and by
east, east-nothe-east, east-and-by-nothe, east;—”
“That will do—that will do. You 'll bring about a shift
of wind, if you go on in this manner. I see very plainly,
serjeant,” walking away again, and dropping his voice,
“we 've nothing to hope for, from that chap. I 'll stand on
two hours longer on this tack, when we 'll heave-to and get
the soundings; after which we will be governed by circumstances.”
To this the serjeant, who, to coin a word, was very much
of an idiosyncratist, made no objections; and, as the wind
grew lighter, as usual with the advance of night, and there
were no immediate obstacles to the navigation, he made a
bed of a sail, on deck, and was soon lost in the sound sleep of
a soldier. Cap continued to walk the deck, for he was one
whose iron frame set fatigue at defiance, and not once that
night did he close his eyes.
It was broad daylight when Serjeant Dunham awoke, and
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the exclamation of surprise that escaped him, as he rose to
his feet, and began to look about him, was stronger than it
was usual for one so drilled to suffer to be heard. He found
the weather entirely changed; the view bounded by driving
mist, that limited the visible horizon to a circle of about a
mile in diameter, the lake raging and covered with foam,
and the Scud lying-to. A brief conversation with his brother-in-law,
let him into the secrets of all these sudden changes.
According to the account of Master Cap, the wind had died
away to a calm, about midnight, or just as he was thinking
of heaving-to, to sound, for islands ahead were beginning to
be seen. At one A. M. it began to blow from the north-east,
accompanied by a drizzle, and he stood off to the northward
and westward, knowing that the coast of New York lay in
the opposite direction. At half past one, he stowed the stay-sail,
reefed the mainsail, and took the bonnet off the jib. At
two, he was compelled to get a second reef aft; and by
half past two, he had put a balance reef in the sail, and was
lying-to.
“I can't say but the boat behaves well, serjeant,” the old
sailor added; “but it blows forty-two pounders! I had no
idee there were any such currents of air, up here on this bit
of fresh-water, though I care not the knotting of a yarn for
it, as your lake has now somewhat of a natural look, and—”
spitting from his mouth, with distaste, a dash of the spray
that had just wetted his face, “and if this d—d water had
a savour of salt about it, one might be comfortable.”
“How long have you been heading in this direction, brother
Cap,” inquired the prudent soldier; “and at what rate may
we be going through the water?”
“Why two or three hours, mayhap, and she went like a
horse for the first pair of them. Oh! we 've a fine offing,
now, for, to own the truth, little relishing the neighbourhood
of them said islands, although they are to windward, I took
the helm myself, and run her off free, for some league or
two. We are well to leeward of them, I 'll engage. I say to
leeward, for, though one might wish to be well to windward
of one island, or even half a dozen, when it comes to a thousand,
the better way is to give it up at once, and to slide
down under their lee, as fast as possible. No—no—there
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they are, up yonder in the drizzle,—and there they may stay,
for anything Charles Cap cares!”
“As the north shore lies only some five or six leagues
from us, brother, and I know there is a large bay, in that
quarter, might it not be well to consult some of the crew
concerning our position, if indeed we do not call up Jasper
Eau-douce, and tell him to carry us back to Oswego? It
is quite impossible we should ever reach the station with this
wind directly in our teeth.”
“There are several serious professional reasons, serjeant,
against all your propositions. In the first place, an admission
of ignorance, on the part of a commander, would destroy
discipline—No matter, brother, I understand your shake of
the head, but nothing capsizes discipline so much, as to confess
ignorance. I once knew a master of a vessel who went
a week on a wrong course, rather than allow he had made a
mistake; and it was surprising how much he rose in the
opinions of his people, just because they could not understand
him.”
“That may do on salt-water, brother Cap; but it will hardly
do on fresh. Rather than wreck my command on the Canada
shore, I shall feel it a duty to take Jasper out of arrest.”
“And make a haven in Frontenac! No, serjeant, the
Scud is in good hands, and will now learn something of
seamanship. We have a fine offing, and no one but a madman
would think of going upon a coast in a gale like this.
I shall ware every watch, and then we shall be safe against
all dangers, but those of the drift, which, in a light, low craft
like this, without top-hamper, will be next to nothing. Leave
it all to me, serjeant, and I pledge you the character of
Charles Cap, that all will go well.”
Serjeant Dunham was fain to yield. He had great confidence
in his connection's professional skill, and hoped that
he would take such care of the cutter as would amply justify
his good opinion. On the other hand, as distrust, like
love, grows by what it feeds on, he entertained so much
apprehension of treachery, that he was quite willing any one
but Jasper should, just then, have the control of the fate of
the whole party. Truth, moreover, compels us to admit
another motive. The particular duty on which he was now
sent, should have been confided to a commissioned officer,
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of right; and Major Duncan had excited a good deal of discontent
among the subalterns of the garrison, by having
confided it to one of the serjeant's humble station. To return,
without having even reached the point of destination,
therefore, the latter felt would be a failure from which he
was not likely soon to recover; and the measure would, at
once, be the means of placing a superior in his shoes.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851 [1840], The pathfinder, or, The inland sea. Vol. I (Lea and Blanchard, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf068v1T].
