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The long days and early sun of July allowed
time for a gathering of the interested, before the
little bell of the academy announced that the appointed
hour had arrived for administering right
to the wronged, and punishment to the guilty.
Ever since the dawn of day, the highways and
wood-paths that, issuing from the forests, and
winding along the sides of the mountains, centered
in Templeton, had been thronged with equestrians
and footmen, bound to the haven of justice.
There was to be seen a well-clad yeoman, mounted
on a sleek, switch-tailed steed, ambling along
the highway, with his red face elevated in a manner
that said, “I have paid for my land, and fear
no man,” while his bosom was swelling with the
conscious pride of being one of the grand inquest
for the county. At his side rode a companion,
his equal in independence of feeling, perhaps, but
his inferior in thrift, as in property and consideration.
This was a professed dealer in lawsuits—
a man whose name appeared in every calendar;
whose substance, gained in the multifarious

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expedients of a settler's changeable habits, was
wasted in feeding the harpies of the courts. He
was endeavouring to impress the mind of the grand
juror with the merits of a cause that was now at
issue. Along with these two was a pedestrian,
who, having thrown a rifle frock over his shirt,
and placed his best wool hat above his sunburnt
visage, had issued from his retreat in the woods
by a footpath, and was striving to keep company
with the others, at an unequal gait, on his way to
hear and to decide the disputes of his neighbours
as a petit juror.

By ten o'clock the streets of the village were
filled with groups of men with busy faces, some
talking of their private concerns, some listening
to a popular expounder of political creeds, and
others gaping in at the open stores, admiring the
finery, or examining sithes, axes, and such other
manufactures as attracted their curiosity or excited
their admiration. A few women were to be
observed in the crowd, mostly carrying infants in
their arms, and followed, at a lounging, listless
gait, by their rustic lords and masters. There
was one young couple, in whom the warmth of
connubial love was yet new, walking among the
moving throng, both dressed in their back-wood
finery, at a respectful distance from each other,
while the swain directed the timid steps of his
bride by the unbending motions of an extended
arm, to which she was appended by grasping his
thumb.

At the first-stroke of the bell, Richard issued
from the front door of the “Bold Dragoon,” flourishing
in his hand a sheathed sword, that he was
fond of saying his ancestors had carried in one
of Cromwell's victories, and crying, in an authoritative
tone, to “clear the way for the court.”
The order was obeyed promptly, though not

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servilely; the members of the crowd nodding familiarly
to the members of the procession, as it passed.
A party of constables with their staves followed
the Sheriff, preceding Marmaduke, and four
plain, grave-looking yeomen, who were his associates
on the bench. There was nothing to distinguish
these subordinate judges from the better
part of the spectators, except gravity, which they
affected a little more than common, and that one
of their number was attired in an old-fashioned
military coat, with skirts that reached no lower
than the middle of his thighs, and bearing two little
silver epaulettes, not half so big as a modern
pair of shoulder knots. This gentleman was a
colonel of the militia, in attendance on a courtmartial,
who found leisure to steal a moment from
his military, to attend to his civil jurisdiction.
But this incongruity was nothing; it excited neither
notice nor comment. Three or four clean-shaved
lawyers followed, as meekly as if they
were lambs going to the slaughter, one or two of
whom had contrived to obtain an air of scholastic
gravity, by wearing spectacles. The rear was
brought up by another posse of constables, and
the mob followed the whole into the room where
the court held its sittings.

The edifice was composed of a basement of
squared logs, perforated here and there with
small grated windows, through which a few
wistful faces were gazing at the crowd without,
among which were the guilty, downcast countenances
of the counterfeiters, and the simple but
honest features of the Leather-stocking. The
dungeons were to be distinguished, externally,
from the debtor's apartments, only by the size of
the apertures, the thickness of the grates, and by
the heads of spikes that were driven into the
logs as a protection against the illegal use of

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edgetools. The upper story was of frame-work, regularly
covered with boards, and contained one
room decently fitted up for the purposes of justice.
A bench run along one of its sides, and was
raised on a narrow platform to the height of a
man above the floor, and was protected in front
by a light railing. In the centre was a seat, furnished
with rude arms, that was always filled by
the presiding judge In front, on a level with
the floor of the room, was a large table covered
with green baize, and surrounded by benches;
and at either of its ends were placed rows of seats,
rising one over the other, for jury boxes. Each
of these several divisions was surrounded by a
railing. The remainder of the room was an open
space appropriated to the spectators.

When the judges were seated, the lawyers had
taken possession of the table, and the noise of
moving feet had ceased in the area, the proclamations
were made in the usual form, the jurors were
sworn, the charge was given, and the court proceeded
to hear the business before them.

We shall not detain the reader with a description
of the captious discussions that occupied the
court for the first two hours. Judge Temple had
impressed on the jury, in his charge, the necessity
for despatch on their part, recommending to their
notice, from motives of humanity, the prisoners in
the gaol, as the first objects of their attention.
Accordingly, after the period we have mentioned
had elapsed, the cry of the officer to “clear the
way for the grand jury,” announced the entrance
of that body. The usual forms were observed,
when the foreman handed up to the bench two
bills, on both of which the Judge observed, at the
first glance of his eye, the name of Nathaniel
Bumppo. It was a leisure moment with the court;
some low whispering passed between the bench

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and the Sheriff, who gave a signal to his officers,
and in a very few minutes the silence that prevailed
there was interrupted by a general movement
in the outer crowd; when presently the Leather-stocking
made his appearance, ushered into the
criminal's bar under the custody of two constables.
The hum ceased, the people closed into the
open space again, and the silence soon became
so deep that the hard breathing of the prisoner
was audible.

Natty was dressed in his buck-skin garments,
without his coat, in place of which he wore only
a shirt of coarse linen-check, fastened at his throat
by the sinew of a deer, leaving his red neck and
weather-beaten face exposed and bare. It was
the first time that he had ever crossed the threshold
of a court of justice, and curiosity seemed
to be strongly blended with his personal feelings.
He raised his eyes to the bench, thence to the
jury-boxes, the bar, and the crowd without, meeting
every where looks that were fastened on himself.
After surveying his own person, as if in
search of the cause of this unusual attraction,
he once more turned his face around the assemblage,
and then opened his mouth in one of his
silent and remarkable laughs.

“Prisoner, remove your cap,” said Judge
Temple.

The order was either unheard or unheeded.

“Nathaniel Bumppo, be uncovered,” repeated
the Judge.

Natty started at the sound of his name, and
raising his face earnestly towards the bench, he
said—

“Anan!”

Mr. Lippet arose from his seat at the table,
and whispered in the ear of the prisoner, when

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Natty gave him a nod of assent, and took the
deer-skin covering from his head.

“Mr. District Attorney,” said the Judge, “the
prisoner is ready; we wait for the indictment.”

The duties of the public prosecutor were discharged
by Dirck Van der School, who adjusted
his spectacles, cast a cautious look around him at
his brethren of the bar, which he ended by throwing
his head aside so as to catch one glance over
the glasses, when he proceeded to read the bill
aloud. It was the usual charge for an assault and
battery on the person of Hiram Doolittle, and
was couched in the ancient language of such instruments,
especial care having been taken by
the scribe, not to omit the name of a single offensive
weapon known to the law. When he had
done, Mr. Van der School removed his spectacles,
which he closed and placed in his pocket,
seemingly for the pleasure of again opening and
replacing them on his nose. After this evolution
was repeated once or twice, he handed the
bill over to Mr. Lippet, with a cavalier air, that
said as much as “pick a hole in that if you can.”

Natty listened to the charge against him with
great attention, leaning forward towards the reader
with an earnestness that denoted his interest;
and when it was ended he raised his tall body to
the utmost, and drew a long sigh. All eyes were
turned to the prisoner, whose voice was vainly
expected to break the stillness of the room.

“You have heard the presentment that the
grand jury have made, Nathaniel Bumppo,” said
the Judge; “what do you plead to the charge?”

The old man dropped his head for a moment in
a reflecting attitude, and then raising it, he laughed
again, before he answered—

“That I handled the man a little rough or so,
is not to be denied; but that there was occasion

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to make use of all them things that the gentleman
has spoken of, is downright untrue. I am not
much of a wrestler, seeing that I'm getting old;
but I was out among the Scotch-Irishers—lets me
see—it must have been as long ago as the first
year of the old war”—

“Mr. Lippet, if you are retained for the prisoner,”
interrupted Judge Temple, “instruct your
client how to plead; if not, the court shall assign
him counsel.”

Aroused from studying the indictment by this
appeal, the attorney got up, and, after a short dialogue
with the hunter in a low voice, he informed
the court that they were ready to proceed.

“Do you plead guilty or not guilty?” said the
Judge.

“I may say not guilty with a clean conscience,”
returned Natty; “for there's no guilt in doing
what's right; and I'd rather died on the spot, than
had him put foot in the hut at that moment.”

Richard started at this declaration, and bent
his eyes significantly on Hiram, who returned the
look with a slight movement of his eye-brows
alone.

“Proceed to open the cause, Mr. District Attorney,”
continued the Judge. “Mr. Clerk, enter
the plea of not guilty.”

After a short opening address from Mr. Van
der School, Hiram was summoned to the bar to
give his testimony. It was delivered to the letter,
perhaps, but with all that moral colouring which
can be conveyed under such expressions as,
“thinking no harm,” “feeling it my bounden duty
as a magistrate,” and “seeing that the constable
was back'ard in the business.” When he had
done, and the District Attorney declined putting
any further interrogatories, Mr. Lippet arose,

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with an air of keen investigation, and asked the
following questions:—

“Are you a constable of this country, sir?”

“No, sir,” said Hiram, “I'm only a justice-peace.”

“I ask you, Mr. Doolittle, in the face of this
court, putting it to your conscience and your
knowledge of the law, whether you had any right
to enter that man's dwelling?”

“Hem!” said Hiram, undergoing a violent
struggle between his desire for vengeance and his
love for legal fame; “I do suppose—that in—
that is—strict law—that supposing—maybe I
hadn't a real—lawful right;—but as the case was—
and Billy was so back'ard—I might come for'ard
in the business.”

“I ask you, again, sir,” continued the lawyer,
following up his success, “whether this old, this
friendless old man, did or did not repeatedly forbid
your entrance?”

“Why, I must say,” said Hiram, “that he was
considerable cross-grained; not what I call clever,
seeing that it was only one neighbour wanting to
go into the house of another.”

“Oh! then you own it was only meant for a
neighbourly visit on your part, and without the
sanction of law. Remember, gentlemen, the words
of the witness, `one neighbour wanting to enter
the house of another.' Now, sir, I ask you if Nathaniel
Bumppo did not again and again order
you not to enter?”

“There was some words passed between us,”
said Hiram, “but I read the warrant to him
aloud.”

“I repeat my question; did he tell you not to
enter his habitation?”

“There was a good deal passed betwixt us—

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but I've the warrant in my pocket; maybe the
court would wish to see it?”

“Witness,” said Judge Temple, “answer the
question directly; did or did not the prisoner forbid
your entering his hut?”

“Why, I some think”—

“Answer without equivocation,” continued the
Judge, sternly.

“He did.”

“And did you attempt to enter, after this order?”

“I did; but the warrant was in my hand.”

“Proceed, Mr. Lippet, with your examination.”

But the attorney saw that the impression was in
favour of his client, and, waving his hand with a
supercilious manner, as if unwilling to insult the
understanding of the jury with any further defence,
he replied—

“No, sir; I leave it for your honour to charge;
I rest my case here.”

“Mr. District Attorney,” said the Judge, “have
you any thing to say?”

Mr. Van der School removed his spectacles,
folded them, and replacing them once more on his
nose, eyed the other bill which he held in his hand,
and then said, looking at the bar over the top of
his glasses—

“I shall rest the prosecution here, if the court
please.”

Judge Temple arose and began the charge.

“Gentlemen of the jury,” he said, “you have
heard the testimony, and I shall detain you but a
moment. If an officer meet with resistance in
the execution of a process, he has an undoubted
right to call any citizen to his assistance; and the
acts of such assistant come within the protection
of the law. I shall leave you to judge, gentlemen,
from the testimony, how far the witness in

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this prosecution can be so considered, feeling less
reluctance to submit the case thus informally to
your decision, because there is yet another indictment
to be tried, which involves heavier charges
against the unfortunate prisoner.”

The tone of Marmaduke was mild and insinuating,
and as his sentiments were given with such
apparent impartiality, they did not fail of carrying
their due weight to the jury. The grave-looking
yeomen, who composed this tribunal, laid their
heads together for a few minutes, without leaving
their box, when the foreman arose, and after the
forms of the court were duly observed, he pronounced
the prisoner to be—

“Not guilty.”

“You are acquitted of this charge, Nathaniel
Bumppo,” said the Judge.

“Anan!” said Natty.

“You are found not guilty of striking and assaulting
Mr. Doolittle.”

“No, no, I'll not deny but that I took him a little
roughly by the shoulders,” said Natty, looking
about him with great simplicity, “and that I”—

“You are acquitted,” interrupted the Judge;
“and there is nothing further to be done or said
in the matter.”

A look of joy lighted up the features of the old
man, who now comprehended the case, and, placing
his cap eagerly on his head again, he threw
up the bar of his little prison, and said feelingly—

“I must say this for you, Judge Temple, that
the law has not been as hard on me as I dreaded.
I hope God will bless you for the kind things
you've done to me this day.”

But the staff of the constable was opposed to his
egress, and Mr. Lippet whispered a few words in
his ear, when the aged hunter sunk back into his
place, and removing his cap, stroked down the

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remnants of his gray and sandy locks, with an air
of mortification mingled with submission.

“Mr. District Attorney,” said Judge Temple,
affecting to busy himself with his minutes, “proceed
with the second indictment.”

Mr. Van der School took great care that no
part of the presentment, which he now read, should
be lost on his auditors. It accused the prisoner
of resisting the execution of a search-warrant
by force of arms, and particularized, in the
vague language of the law, among a variety of
other weapons, the use of the rifle. This was indeed
a more serious charge than an ordinary assault
and battery, and a corresponding degree of
interest was manifested by the spectators in its
result. The prisoner was duly arraigned, and his
plea again demanded. Mr. Lippet had anticipated
the answers of Natty, and in a whisper advised
him how to plead. But the feelings of the old
hunter were awakened by some of the expressions
of the indictment, and, forgetful of his caution, he
exclaimed—

“'Tis a wicked untruth; I carve no man's
blood. Them thieves, the Iroquois, won't say it
to my face, that I ever thirsted after man's blood.
I have fought as a soldier that feared his Maker
and his officer, but I never pulled a trigger on any
but a warrior that was up and awake. No man
can say that I ever struck even a Mingo in his
blanket. I b'lieve there's some who thinks there's
no God in a wilderness!”

“Attend to your plea, Bumppo,” said the Judge;
“you hear that you are accused of using your rifle
against an officer of justice; are you guilty or
not guilty?”

By this time the irritated feelings of Natty had
found a vent; and he rested on the bar for a moment,
in a musing posture, when he lifted his face,

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with his silent laugh, and pointing to where the
wood-chopper stood, he said—

“Would Billy Kirby be standing there, d'ye
think, if I had used the rifle?”

“Then you deny it,” said Mr. Lippet; “you
plead not guilty?”

“Sartain,” said Natty; “Billy knows that I
never fired at all. Billy, do you remember the
turkey last winter? ah! me! that was better than
common firing; but I can't shoot as I used to
could.”

“Enter the plea of not guilty,” said Judge
Temple, strongly affected by the simplicity of the
prisoner.

Hiram was again sworn, and his testimony
given on the second charge. He had discovered
his former error, and proceeded more cautiously
than before. He related very distinctly, and, for
the man, with amazing terseness, the suspicion
against the hunter, the complaint, the issuing of
the warrant, and the swearing in of Kirby; all of
which, he affirmed, were done in due form of law.
He then added the manner in which the constable
had been received; and stated distinctly that Natty
had pointed the rifle at Kirby, and threatened
his life, if he attempted to execute his duty. All
this was confirmed by Jotham, who was observed
to adhere closely to the story of the magistrate.
Mr. Lippet conducted an artful cross examination
of these two witnesses, but, after consuming much
time, was compelled to relinquish the attempt to
obtain any advantage, in despair.

At length the District Attorney called the wood-chopper
to the bar. Billy gave an extremely confused
account of the affair, although he evidently
aimed at the truth, until Mr. Van der School addressed
him, by asking some direct questions:—

“It appears, from examining the papers, that

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you demanded admission into the hut legally; so
you were put in bodily fear by his rifle and
threats?”

“I didn't mind them that, man,” said Billy,
snapping his fingers; “I should be a poor stick,
to mind such a one as old Leather-stocking.”

“But I understood you to say, (referring to your
previous words, (as delivered here in court,) in
the commencement of your testimony,) that you
thought he meant to shoot you?”

“To be sure I did; and so would you too,
Squire, if you had seen the chap dropping a muzzle
that never misses, and cocking an eye that has
a nateral squint by long practice. I thought there
would be a dust on't, and my back was up at once;
but Leather-stocking gi'n up the skin, and so the
matter ended.”

“Ah! Billy,” said Natty, shaking his head,
“'twas a lucky thought in me to throw out the
hide, or there might have been blood split; and
I'm sure, if it had been your'n, I should have
mourn'd it sorely the little while I have to stay.”

“Well, Leather-stocking,” returned Billy, facing
the prisoner, with a freedom and familiarity
that utterly disregarded the presence of the court,
“as you are on the subject, it may be that you've
no”—

“Go on with your examination, Mr. District
Attorney.”

That gentleman eyed the familiarity between
his witness and the prisoner with manifest disgust,
and indicated to the court that he was done.

“Then you didn't feel frightened, Mr. Kirby?”
said the counsel for the prisoner.

“Me! no,” said Billy, casting his eyes over his
own huge frame with evident self-satisfaction;
“I'm not to be skeared so easy.”

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