Chapter XXXI.
"The flower that smiles to-day To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay, Tempts and then flies: What is this world's delight? Lightning that mocks the night, Brief even as bright."
Shelley, "Mutability," II. i-v.
The picture next presented, by the point of land that the unfortunateHurons had selected for their last place of encampment, need scarcely belaid before the eyes of the reader. Happily for the more tender-mindedand the more timid, the trunks of the trees, the leaves, and the smokehad concealed much of that which passed, and night shortly after drewits veil over the lake, and the whole of that seemingly interminablewilderness; which may be said to have then stretched, with few andimmaterial interruptions, from the banks of the Hudson to the shores ofthe Pacific Ocean. Our business carries us into the following day, whenlight returned upon the earth, as sunny and as smiling as if nothingextraordinary had occurred.
When the sun rose on the following morning, every sign of hostility andalarm had vanished from the basin of the Glimmerglass. The frightfulevent of the preceding evening had left no impression on the placidsheet, and the untiring hours pursued their course in the placid orderprescribed by the powerful hand that set them in motion. The birds wereagain skimming the water, or were seen poised on the wing, high abovethe tops of the tallest pines of the mountains, ready to make theirswoops, in obedience to the irresistable law of their natures. Ina word, nothing was changed, but the air of movement and life thatprevailed in and around the castle. Here, indeed, was an alteration thatmust have struck the least observant eye. A sentinel, who wore the lightinfantry uniform of a royal regiment, paced the platform with measuredtread, and some twenty more of the same corps lounged about the place,or were seated in the ark. Their arms were stacked under the eye oftheir comrade on post. Two officers stood examining the shore, with theship's glass so often mentioned. Their looks were directed to thatfatal point, where scarlet coats were still to be seen gliding amongthe trees, and where the magnifying power of the instrument also showedspades at work, and the sad duty of interment going on. Several of thecommon men bore proofs on their persons that their enemies had notbeen overcome entirely without resistance, and the youngest of the twoofficers on the platform wore an arm in a sling. His companion, whocommanded the party, had been more fortunate. He it was who used theglass, in making the reconnoissances in which the two were engaged.
A sergeant approached to make a report. He addressed the senior of theseofficers as Capt. Warley, while the other was alluded to as Mr., whichwas equivalent to Ensign Thornton. The former it will at once be seenwas the officer who had been named with so much feeling in the partingdialogue between Judith and Hurry. He was, in truth, the very individualwith whom the scandal of the garrisons had most freely connected thename of this beautiful but indiscreet girl. He was a hard featured, redfaced man of about five and thirty; but of a military carriage, and withan air of fashion that might easily impose on the imagination of one asignorant of the world as Judith.
"Craig is covering us with benedictions," observed this person to hisyoung ensign, with an air of indifference, as he shut the glass andhanded it to his servant; "to say the truth, not without reason; it iscertainly more agreeable to be here in attendance on Miss Judith Hutter,than to be burying Indians on a point of the lake, however romantic theposition, or brilliant the victory. By the way, Wright--is Davis stillliving?"
"He died about ten minutes since, your honor," returned the sergeant towhom this question was addressed. "I knew how it would be, as soon as Ifound the bullet had touched the stomach. I never knew a man who couldhold out long, if he had a hole in his stomach."
"No; it is rather inconvenient for carrying away any thing verynourishing," observed Warley, gaping. "This being up two nights desuite, Arthur, plays the devil with a man's faculties! I'm as stupidas one of those Dutch parsons on the Mohawk--I hope your arm is notpainful, my dear boy?"
"It draws a few grimaces from me, sir, as I suppose you see," answeredthe youth, laughing at the very moment his countenance was a littleawry with pain. "But it may be borne. I suppose Graham can spare a fewminutes, soon, to look at my hurt."
"She is a lovely creature, this Judith Hutter, after all, Thornton; andit shall not be my fault if she is not seen and admired in the Parks!"resumed Warley, who thought little of his companion's wound--"your arm,eh! Quite True--Go into the ark, sergeant, and tell Dr. Graham I desirehe would look at Mr. Thornton's injury, as soon as he has done with thepoor fellow with the broken leg. A lovely creature! and she looked likea queen in that brocade dress in which we met her. I find all changedhere; father and mother both gone, the sister dying, if not dead,and none of the family left, but the beauty! This has been a luckyexpedition all round, and promises to terminate better than Indianskirmishes in general."
"Am I to suppose, sir, that you are about to desert your colours, in thegreat corps of bachelors, and close the campaign with matrimony?"
"I, Tom Warley, turn Benedict! Faith, my dear boy, you little know thecorps you speak of, if you fancy any such thing. I do suppose there arewomen in the colonies that a captain of Light Infantry need not disdain;but they are not to be found up here, on a mountain lake; or evendown on the Dutch river where we are posted. It is true, my uncle, thegeneral, once did me the favor to choose a wife for me in Yorkshire;but she had no beauty--and I would not marry a princess, unless she werehandsome."
"If handsome, you would marry a beggar?"
"Ay, these are the notions of an ensign! Love in a cottage--doors--andwindows--the old story, for the hundredth time. The 20th--don't marry.We are not a marrying corps, my dear boy. There's the Colonel, Old SirEdwin-----, now; though a full General he has never thought of a wife;and when a man gets as high as a Lieutenant General, without matrimony,he is pretty safe. Then the Lieutenant Colonel is confirmed, as I tellmy cousin the bishop. The Major is a widower, having tried matrimonyfor twelve months in his youth, and we look upon him, now, as one of ourmost certain men. Out of ten captains, but one is in the dilemma, andhe, poor devil, is always kept at regimental headquarters, as a sort ofmemento mori, to the young men as they join. As for the subalterns, notone has ever yet had the audacity to speak of introducing a wife intothe regiment. But your arm is troublesome, and we'll go ourselves andsee what has become of Graham."
The surgeon who had accompanied the party was employed very differentlyfrom what the captain supposed. When the assault was over, and the deadand wounded were collected, poor Hetty had been found among the latter.A rifle bullet had passed through her body, inflicting an injury thatwas known at a glance to be mortal. How this wound was received, no oneknew; it was probably one of those casualties that ever accompany sceneslike that related in the previous chapter.
The Sumach, all the elderly women, and some of the Huron girls, hadfallen by the bayonet, either in the confusion of the melee, or fromthe difficulty of distinguishing the sexes when the dress was so simple.Much the greater portion of the warriors suffered on the spot. A few hadescaped, however, and two or three had been taken unharmed. As forthe wounded, the bayonet saved the surgeon much trouble. Rivenoak hadescaped with life and limb, but was injured and a prisoner. As CaptainWarley and his ensign went into the Ark they passed him, seated indignified silence in one end of the scow, his head and leg bound, butbetraying no visible sign of despondency or despair. That he mournedthe loss of his tribe is certain; still he did it in a manner that bestbecame a warrior and a chief.
The two soldiers found their surgeon in the principal room of theArk. He was just quitting the pallet of Hetty, with an expression ofsorrowful regret on his hard, pock-marked Scottish features, that it wasnot usual to see there. All his assiduity had been useless, and he wascompelled reluctantly to abandon the expectation of seeing the girlsurvive many hours. Dr. Graham was accustomed to death-bed scenes,and ordinarily they produced but little impression on him. In all thatrelates to religion, his was one of those minds which, in consequenceof rea
soning much on material things, logically and consecutively, andoverlooking the total want of premises which such a theory must everpossess, through its want of a primary agent, had become sceptical;leaving a vague opinion concerning the origin of things, that, withhigh pretentions to philosophy, failed in the first of all philosophicalprinciples, a cause. To him religious dependence appeared a weakness,but when he found one gentle and young like Hetty, with a mind beneaththe level of her race, sustained at such a moment by these pioussentiments, and that, too, in a way that many a sturdy warrior andreputed hero might have looked upon with envy, he found himself affectedby the sight to a degree that he would have been ashamed to confess.Edinburgh and Aberdeen, then as now, supplied no small portion of themedical men of the British service, and Dr. Graham, as indeed his nameand countenance equally indicated, was, by birth a North Briton.
"Here is an extraordinary exhibition for a forest, and one buthalf-gifted with reason," he observed with a decided Scotch accent, asWarley and the ensign entered; "I just hope, gentlemen, that when wethree shall be called on to quit the 20th, we may be found as resignedto go on the half pay of another existence, as this poor dementedchiel!"
"Is there no hope that she can survive the hurt?" demanded Warley,turning his eyes towards the pallid Judith, on whose cheeks, however,two large spots of red had settled as soon as he came into the cabin.
"No more than there is for Chairlie Stuart! Approach and judge foryourselves, gentlemen; ye'll see faith exemplified in an exceeding andwonderful manner. There is a sort of arbitrium between life anddeath, in actual conflict in the poor girl's mind, that renders her aninteresting study to a philosopher. Mr. Thornton, I'm at your service,now; we can just look at the arm in the next room, while we speculate asmuch as we please on the operations and sinuosities of the human mind."
The surgeon and ensign retired, and Warley had an opportunity of lookingabout him more at leisure, and with a better understanding of the natureand feelings of the group collected in the cabin. Poor Hetty hadbeen placed on her own simple bed, and was reclining in a half seatedattitude, with the approaches of death on her countenance, though theywere singularly dimmed by the lustre of an expression in which all theintelligence of her entire being appeared to be concentrated. Judithand Hist were near her, the former seated in deep grief; the latterstanding, in readiness to offer any of the gentle attentions of femininecare. Deerslayer stood at the end of the pallet, leaning on Killdeer,unharmed in person, all the fine martial ardor that had so lately glowedin his countenance having given place to the usual look of honesty andbenevolence, qualities of which the expression was now softened bymanly regret and pity. The Serpent was in the background of the picture,erect, and motionless as a statue; but so observant that not a look ofthe eye escaped his own keen glances. Hurry completed the group, beingseated on a stool near the door, like one who felt himself out of placein such a scene, but who was ashamed to quit it, unbidden.
"Who is that in scarlet?" asked Hetty, as soon as the Captain's uniformcaught her eye. "Tell me, Judith, is it the friend of Hurry?"
"'Tis the officer who commands the troops that have rescued us all fromthe hands of the Hurons," was the low answer of the sister.
"Am I rescued, too!--I thought they said I was shot, and about to die.Mother is dead; and so is father; but you are living, Judith, and sois Hurry. I was afraid Hurry would be killed, when I heard him shoutingamong the soldiers."
"Never mind--never mind, dear Hetty--" interrupted Judith, sensitivelyalive to the preservation of her sister's secret, more, perhaps, at sucha moment, than at any other. "Hurry is well, and Deerslayer is well, andthe Delaware is well, too."
"How came they to shoot a poor girl like me, and let so many men gounharmed? I didn't know that the Hurons were so wicked, Judith!"
"'Twas an accident, poor Hetty; a sad accident it has been! No one wouldwillingly have injured you."
"I'm glad of that!--I thought it strange; I am feeble minded, and theredmen have never harmed me before. I should be sorry to think that theyhad changed their minds. I am glad too, Judith, that they haven't hurtHurry. Deerslayer I don't think God will suffer any one to harm. Itwas very fortunate the soldiers came as they did though, for fire willburn!"
"It was indeed fortunate, my sister; God's holy name be forever blessedfor the mercy!"
"I dare say, Judith, you know some of the officers; you used to know somany!"
Judith made no reply; she hid her face in her hands and groaned. Hettygazed at her in wonder; but naturally supposing her own situation wasthe cause of this grief, she kindly offered to console her sister.
"Don't mind me, dear Judith," said the affectionate and pure-heartedcreature, "I don't suffer; if I do die, why father and mother are bothdead, and what happens to them may well happen to me. You know I amof less account than any of the family; therefore few will think of meafter I'm in the lake."
"No, no, no--poor, dear, dear Hetty!" exclaimed Judith, in anuncontrollable burst of sorrow, "I, at least, will ever think of you;and gladly, oh! how gladly would I exchange places with you, to be thepure, excellent, sinless creature you are!"
Until now, Captain Warley had stood leaning against the door of thecabin; when this outbreak of feeling, and perchance of penitence,however, escaped the beautiful girl, he walked slowly and thoughtfullyaway; even passing the ensign, then suffering under the surgeon's care,without noticing him.
"I have got my Bible here, Judith," returned her sister in a voice oftriumph. "It's true, I can't read any longer, there's something thematter with my eyes--you look dim and distant--and so does Hurry, nowI look at him--well, I never could have believed that Henry March wouldhave so dull a look! What can be the reason, Judith, that I see sobadly, to-day? I, who mother always said had the best eyes in thewhole family. Yes, that was it: my mind was feeble--what people callhalf-witted--but my eyes were so good!"
Again Judith groaned; this time no feeling of self, no retrospect ofthe past caused the pain. It was the pure, heartfelt sorrow of sisterlylove, heightened by a sense of the meek humility and perfect truth ofthe being before her. At that moment, she would gladly have given upher own life to save that of Hetty. As the last, however, was beyond thereach of human power, she felt there was nothing left her but sorrow. Atthis moment Warley returned to the cabin, drawn by a secret impulse hecould not withstand, though he felt, just then, as if he would gladlyabandon the American continent forever, were it practicable. Instead ofpausing at the door, he now advanced so near the pallet of the suffereras to come more plainly within her gaze. Hetty could still distinguishlarge objects, and her look soon fastened on him.
"Are you the officer that came with Hurry?" she asked. "If you are, weought all to thank you, for, though I am hurt, the rest have saved theirlives. Did Harry March tell you, where to find us, and how much needthere was for your services?"
"The news of the party reached us by means of a friendly runner,"returned the Captain, glad to relieve his feelings by this appearance ofa friendly communication, "and I was immediately sent out to cut it off.It was fortunate, certainly, that we met Hurry Harry, as you call him,for he acted as a guide, and it was not less fortunate that we heard afiring, which I now understand was merely a shooting at the mark, forit not only quickened our march, but called us to the right side of thelake. The Delaware saw us on the shore, with the glass it would seem,and he and Hist, as I find his squaw is named, did us excellent service.It was really altogether a fortunate concurrence of circumstances,Judith."
"Talk not to me of any thing fortunate, sir," returned the girl huskily,again concealing her face. "To me the world is full of misery. I wishnever to hear of marks, or rifles, or soldiers, or men, again!"
"Do you know my sister?" asked Hetty, ere the rebuked soldier had timeto rally for an answer. "How came you to know that her name is Judith?You are right, for that is her name; and I am Hetty; Thomas Hutter'sdaughters."
"For heaven's sake, dearest sister; for my sake, beloved Hetty,"interposed Judit
h, imploringly, "say no more of this!"
Hetty looked surprised, but accustomed to comply, she ceased her awkwardand painful interrogations of Warley, bending her eyes towards the Biblewhich she still held between her hands, as one would cling to a casketof precious stones in a shipwreck, or a conflagration. Her mind nowadverted to the future, losing sight, in a great measure, of the scenesof the past.
"We shall not long be parted, Judith," she said; "when you die, you mustbe brought and be buried in the lake, by the side of mother, too."
"Would to God, Hetty, that I lay there at this moment!"
"No, that cannot be, Judith; people must die before they have anyright to be buried. 'Twould be wicked to bury you, or for you to buryyourself, while living. Once I thought of burying myself; God kept mefrom that sin."
"You!--You, Hetty Hutter, think of such an act!" exclaimed Judith,looking up in uncontrollable surprise, for she well knew nothing passedthe lips of her conscientious sister, that was not religiously true.
"Yes, I did, Judith, but God has forgotten--no he forgets nothing--buthe has forgiven it," returned the dying girl, with the subdued mannerof a repentant child. "'Twas after mother's death; I felt I had lost thebest friend I had on earth, if not the only friend. 'Tis true, you andfather were kind to me, Judith, but I was so feeble-minded, I knew Ishould only give you trouble; and then you were so often ashamed of sucha sister and daughter, and 'tis hard to live in a world where all lookupon you as below them. I thought then, if I could bury myself by theside of mother, I should be happier in the lake than in the hut."
"Forgive me--pardon me, dearest Hetty--on my bended knees, I beg youto pardon me, sweet sister, if any word, or act of mine drove you to somaddening and cruel a thought!"
"Get up, Judith--kneel to God; don't kneel to me. Just so I felt whenmother was dying! I remembered everything I had said and done to vexher, and could have kissed her feet for forgiveness. I think it must beso with all dying people; though, now I think of it, I don't remember tohave had such feelings on account of father."
Judith arose, hid her face in her apron, and wept. A long pause--one ofmore than two hours--succeeded, during which Warley entered and left thecabin several times; apparently uneasy when absent, and yet unable toremain. He issued various orders, which his men proceeded to execute,and there was an air of movement in the party, more especially as Mr.Craig, the lieutenant, had got through the unpleasant duty of buryingthe dead, and had sent for instructions from the shore, desiring to knowwhat he was to do with his detachment. During this interval Hettyslept a little, and Deerslayer and Chingachgook left the Ark to confertogether. But, at the end of the time mentioned, the Surgeon passed uponthe platform, and with a degree of feeling his comrades had never beforeobserved in one of his habits, he announced that the patient was rapidlydrawing near her end. On receiving this intelligence the group collectedagain, curiosity to witness such a death--or a better feeling--drawingto the spot men who had so lately been actors in a scene seemingly ofso much greater interest and moment. By this time Judith had got to beinactive through grief, and Hist alone was performing the little officesof feminine attention that are so appropriate to the sick bed. Hettyherself had undergone no other apparent change than the general failingthat indicated the near approach of dissolution. All that she possessedof mind was as clear as ever, and, in some respects, her intellectperhaps was more than usually active.
"Don't grieve for me so much, Judith," said the gentle sufferer, aftera pause in her remarks; "I shall soon see mother--I think I see her now;her face is just as sweet and smiling as it used to be! Perhaps when I'mdead, God will give me all my mind, and I shall become a more fittingcompanion for mother than I ever was before."
"You will be an angel in heaven, Hetty," sobbed the sister; "no spiritthere will be more worthy of its holy residence!"
"I don't understand it quite; still, I know it must be all true; I'veread it in the Bible. How dark it's becoming! Can it be night so soon? Ican hardly see you at all--where is Hist?"
"I here, poor girl--Why you no see me?"
"I do see you; but I couldn't tell whether 'twas you, or Judith. Ibelieve I shan't see you much longer, Hist."
"Sorry for that, poor Hetty. Never mind--pale-face got a heaven for girlas well as for warrior."
"Where's the Serpent? Let me speak to him; give me his hand; so; I feelit. Delaware, you will love and cherish this young Indian woman--I knowhow fond she is of you; you must be fond of her. Don't treat her as someof your people treat their wives; be a real husband to her. Now, bringDeerslayer near me; give me his hand."
This request was complied with, and the hunter stood by the side ofthe pallet, submitting to the wishes of the girl with the docility of achild.
"I feel, Deerslayer," she resumed, "though I couldn't tell why--butI feel that you and I are not going to part for ever. 'Tis a strangefeeling! I never had it before; I wonder what it comes from!"
"'Tis God encouraging you in extremity, Hetty; as such it ought to beharbored and respected. Yes, we shall meet ag'in, though it may be along time first, and in a far distant land."
"Do you mean to be buried in the lake, too? If so, that may account forthe feeling."
"'Tis little likely, gal; 'tis little likely; but there's a region forChristian souls, where there's no lakes, nor woods, they say; though whythere should be none of the last, is more than I can account for; seeingthat pleasantness and peace is the object in view. My grave will befound in the forest, most likely, but I hope my spirit will not be farfrom your'n."
"So it must be, then. I am too weak-minded to understand these things,but I feel that you and I will meet again. Sister, where are you? Ican't see, now, anything but darkness. It must be night, surely!"
"Oh! Hetty, I am here at your side; these are my arms that are aroundyou," sobbed Judith. "Speak, dearest; is there anything you wish to say,or have done, in this awful moment."
By this time Hetty's sight had entirely failed her. Nevertheless deathapproached with less than usual of its horrors, as if in tenderness toone of her half-endowed faculties. She was pale as a corpse, but herbreathing was easy and unbroken, while her voice, though lowered almostto a whisper, remained clear and distinct. When her sister put thisquestion, however, a blush diffused itself over the features of thedying girl, so faint however as to be nearly imperceptible; resemblingthat hue of the rose which is thought to portray the tint of modesty,rather than the dye of the flower in its richer bloom. No one but Judithdetected this exposure of feeling, one of the gentle expressions ofwomanly sensibility, even in death. On her, however, it was not lost,nor did she conceal from herself the cause.
"Hurry is here, dearest Hetty," whispered the sister, with her face sonear the sufferer as to keep the words from other ears. "Shall I tellhim to come and receive your good wishes?"
A gentle pressure of the hand answered in the affirmative. Then Hurrywas brought to the side of the pallet. It is probable that this handsomebut rude woodsman had never before found himself so awkwardly placed,though the inclination which Hetty felt for him (a sort of secretyielding to the instincts of nature, rather than any unbecoming impulseof an ill-regulated imagination), was too pure and unobtrusive to havecreated the slightest suspicion of the circumstance in his mind. Heallowed Judith to put his hard colossal hand between those of Hetty, andstood waiting the result in awkward silence.
"This is Hurry, dearest," whispered Judith, bending over her sister,ashamed to utter the words so as to be audible to herself. "Speak tohim, and let him go."
"What shall I say, Judith?"
"Nay, whatever your own pure spirit teaches, my love. Trust to that, andyou need fear nothing."
"Good bye, Hurry," murmured the girl, with a gentle pressure of hishand. "I wish you would try and be more like Deerslayer."
These words were uttered with difficulty; a faint flush succeeded themfor a single instant. Then the hand was relinquished, and Hetty turnedher face aside, as if done with the world. The mysterious feeli
ngthat bound her to the young man, a sentiment so gentle as to be almostimperceptible to herself, and which could never have existed at all, hadher reason possessed more command over her senses, was forever lost inthoughts of a more elevated, though scarcely of a purer character.
"Of what are you thinking, my sweet sister?" whispered Judith "Tell me,that I may aid you at this moment."
"Mother--I see Mother, now, and bright beings around her in the lake.Why isn't father there? It's odd that I can see Mother, when I can't seeyou! Farewell, Judith."
The last words were uttered after a pause, and her sister had hung overher some time, in anxious watchfulness, before she perceived thatthe gentle spirit had departed. Thus died Hetty Hutter, one of thosemysterious links between the material and immaterial world, which, whilethey appear to be deprived of so much that it is esteemed and necessaryfor this state of being, draw so near to, and offer so beautiful anillustration of the truth, purity, and simplicity of another.
Chapter XXXII
"A baron's chylde to be begylde! it were a cursed dede: To be felawe with an outlawe! Almighty God forbede! Yea, better were, the pore squy re alone to forest yede, Then ye sholde say another day, that by my cursed dede Ye were betrayed: wherefore, good mayde, the best rede that I can, Is, that I to the grene wode go, alone, a banyshed man."
Thomas Percy, 'Nutbrowne Mayde,' 11. 265-76 from Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, Vol. II.
The day that followed proved to be melancholy, though one of muchactivity. The soldiers, who had so lately been employed in interringtheir victims, were now called on to bury their own dead. The sceneof the morning had left a saddened feeling on all the gentlemen of theparty, and the rest felt the influence of a similar sensation, in avariety of ways and from many causes. Hour dragged on after hour untilevening arrived, and then came the last melancholy offices in honor ofpoor Hetty Hutter. Her body was laid in the lake, by the side of that ofthe mother she had so loved and reverenced, the surgeon, though actuallyan unbeliever, so far complying with the received decencies of life asto read the funeral service over her grave, as he had previously doneover those of the other Christian slain. It mattered not; that allseeing eye which reads the heart, could not fail to discriminate betweenthe living and the dead, and the gentle soul of the unfortunate girlwas already far removed beyond the errors, or deceptions, of any humanritual. These simple rites, however, were not wholly wanting in suitableaccompaniments. The tears of Judith and Hist were shed freely, andDeerslayer gazed upon the limpid water, that now flowed over one whosespirit was even purer than its own mountain springs, with glisteningeyes. Even the Delaware turned aside to conceal his weakness, whilethe common men gazed on the ceremony with wondering eyes and chastenedfeelings.
The business of the day closed with this pious office. By order of thecommanding officer, all retired early to rest, for it was intended tobegin the march homeward with the return of light. One party, indeed,bearing the wounded, the prisoners, and the trophies, had left thecastle in the middle of the day under the guidance of Hurry, intendingto reach the fort by shorter marches. It had been landed on the point sooften mentioned, or that described in our opening pages, and, when thesun set, was already encamped on the brow of the long, broken, and ridgyhills, that fell away towards the valley of the Mohawk. The departure ofthis detachment had greatly simplified the duty of the succeeding day,disencumbering its march of its baggage and wounded, and otherwiseleaving him who had issued the order greater liberty of action.
Judith held no communications with any but Hist, after the death of hersister, until she retired for the night. Her sorrow had been respected,and both the females had been left with the body, unintruded on, to thelast moment. The rattling of the drum broke the silence of that tranquilwater, and the echoes of the tattoo were heard among the mountains,so soon after the ceremony was over as to preclude the danger ofinterruption. That star which had been the guide of Hist, rose on ascene as silent as if the quiet of nature had never yet been disturbedby the labors or passions of man. One solitary sentinel, with hisrelief, paced the platform throughout the night, and morning was usheredin, as usual, by the martial beat of the reveille.
Military precision succeeded to the desultory proceedings of border men,and when a hasty and frugal breakfast was taken, the party began itsmovement towards the shore with a regularity and order that preventednoise or confusion. Of all the officers, Warley alone remained. Craigheaded the detachment in advance, Thornton was with the wounded, andGraham accompanied his patients as a matter of course. Even the chestof Hutter, with all the more valuable of his effects, was borne away,leaving nothing behind that was worth the labor of a removal. Judith wasnot sorry to see that the captain respected her feelings, and that heoccupied himself entirely with the duty of his command, leaving her toher own discretion and feelings. It was understood by all that the placewas to be totally abandoned; but beyond this no explanations were askedor given.
The soldiers embarked in the Ark, with the captain at their head. He hadenquired of Judith in what way she chose to proceed, and understandingher wish to remain with Hist to the last moment, he neither molested herwith requests, nor offended her with advice. There was but one safeand familiar trail to the Mohawk, and on that, at the proper hour,he doubted not that they should meet in amity, if not in renewedintercourse. When all were on board, the sweeps were manned, and the Arkmoved in its sluggish manner towards the distant point. Deerslayer andChingachgook now lifted two of the canoes from the water, and placedthem in the castle. The windows and door were then barred, and thehouse was left by means of the trap, in the manner already described. Onquitting the palisades, Hist was seen in the remaining canoe, wherethe Delaware immediately joined her, and paddled away, leaving Judithstanding alone on the platform. Owing to this prompt proceeding,Deerslayer found himself alone with the beautiful and still weepingmourner. Too simple to suspect anything, the young man swept the lightboat round, and received its mistress in it, when he followed the coursealready taken by his friend. The direction to the point led diagonallypast, and at no great distance from, the graves of the dead. As thecanoe glided by, Judith for the first time that morning spoke to hercompanion. She said but little; merely uttering a simple request tostop, for a minute or two, ere she left the place.
"I may never see this spot again, Deerslayer," she said, "and itcontains the bodies of my mother and sister! Is it not possible, thinkyou, that the innocence of one of these beings may answer in the eyes ofGod for the salvation of both?"
"I don't understand it so, Judith, though I'm no missionary, and am butpoorly taught. Each spirit answers for its own backslidings, though ahearty repentance will satisfy God's laws."
"Then must my poor poor mother be in heaven! Bitterly, bitterly has sherepented of her sins, and surely her sufferings in this life ought tocount as something against her sufferings in the next!"
"All this goes beyond me, Judith. I strive to do right, here, as thesurest means of keeping all right, hereafter. Hetty was oncommon, asall that know'd her must allow, and her soul was as fit to consart withangels the hour it left its body, as that of any saint in the Bible!"
"I do believe you only do her justice! Alas! Alas! that there should beso great differences between those who were nursed at the samebreast, slept in the same bed, and dwelt under the same roof! But, nomatter--move the canoe, a little farther east, Deerslayer--the sun sodazzles my eyes that I cannot see the graves. This is Hetty's, on theright of mother's?"
"Sartain--you ask'd that of us, and all are glad to do as you wish,Judith, when you do that which is right."
The girl gazed at him near a minute, in silent attention; then sheturned her eyes backward, at the castle. "This lake will soon beentirely deserted," she said, "and this, too, at a moment when it willbe a more secure dwelling place than ever. What has so lately happenedwill prevent the Iroquois from venturing again to visit it for a longtime to come."
"That it will! Yes, th
at may be set down as sartain. I do not mean topass this-a-way, ag'in, so long as the war lasts, for, to my mind noHuron moccasin will leave its print on the leaves of this forest,until their traditions have forgotten to tell their young men of theirdisgrace and rout."
"And do you so delight in violence and bloodshed? I had thought betterof you, Deerslayer--believed you one who could find his happiness ina quiet domestic home, with an attached and loving wife ready to studyyour wishes, and healthy and dutiful children anxious to follow in yourfootsteps, and to become as honest and just as yourself."
"Lord, Judith, what a tongue you're mistress of! Speech and looks gohand in hand, like, and what one can't do, the other is pretty sartainto perform! Such a gal, in a month, might spoil the stoutest warrior inthe colony."
"And am I then so mistaken? Do you really love war, Deerslayer, betterthan the hearth, and the affections?"
"I understand your meaning, gal; yes, I do understand what you mean, Ibelieve, though I don't think you altogether understand me. Warrior Imay now call myself, I suppose, for I've both fou't and conquered, whichis sufficient for the name; neither will I deny that I've feelin'sfor the callin', which is both manful and honorable when carried onaccordin' to nat'ral gifts, but I've no relish for blood. Youth isyouth, howsever, and a Mingo is a Mingo. If the young men of this regionstood by, and suffered the vagabonds to overrun the land, why, we mightas well all turn Frenchers at once, and give up country and kin. I'm nofire eater, Judith, or one that likes fightin' for fightin's sake, but Ican see no great difference atween givin' up territory afore a war, outof a dread of war, and givin' it up a'ter a war, because we can't helpit, onless it be that the last is the most manful and honorable."
"No woman would ever wish to see her husband or brother stand by andsubmit to insult and wrong, Deerslayer, however she might mourn thenecessity of his running into the dangers of battle. But, you've doneenough already, in clearing this region of the Hurons; since to youis principally owing the credit of our late victory. Now, listen tome patiently, and answer me with that native honesty, which it is aspleasant to regard in one of your sex, as it is unusual to meet with."
Judith paused, for now that she was on the very point of explainingherself, native modesty asserted its power, notwithstanding theencouragement and confidence she derived from the great simplicity ofher companion's character. Her cheeks, which had so lately been pale,flushed, and her eyes lighted with some of their former brilliancy.Feeling gave expression to her countenance and softness to her voice,rendering her who was always beautiful, trebly seductive and winning.
"Deerslayer," she said, after a considerable pause, "this is not amoment for affectation, deception, or a want of frankness of any sort.Here, over my mother's grave, and over the grave of truth-loving,truth-telling Hetty, everything like unfair dealing seems to be out ofplace. I will, therefore, speak to you without any reserve, and withoutany dread of being misunderstood. You are not an acquaintance of a week,but it appears to me as if I had known you for years. So much, and somuch that is important has taken place, within that short time, that thesorrows, and dangers, and escapes of a whole life have been crowdedinto a few days, and they who have suffered and acted together in suchscenes, ought not to feel like strangers. I know that what I am aboutto say might be misunderstood by most men, but I hope for a generousconstruction of my course from you. We are not here, dwelling among thearts and deceptions of the settlements, but young people who have nooccasion to deceive each other, in any manner or form. I hope I makemyself understood?"
"Sartain, Judith; few convarse better than yourself, and none moreagreeable, like. Your words are as pleasant as your looks."
"It is the manner in which you have so often praised those looks, thatgives me courage to proceed. Still, Deerslayer, it is not easy forone of my sex and years to forget all her lessons of infancy, allher habits, and her natural diffidence, and say openly what her heartfeels!"
"Why not, Judith? Why shouldn't women as well as men deal fairly andhonestly by their fellow creatur's? I see no reason why you should notspeak as plainly as myself, when there is any thing ra'ally important tobe said."
This indomitable diffidence, which still prevented the young man fromsuspecting the truth, would have completely discouraged the girl, hadnot her whole soul, as well as her whole heart, been set upon making adesperate effort to rescue herself from a future that she dreaded witha horror as vivid as the distinctness with which she fancied she foresawit. This motive, however, raised her above all common considerations,and she persevered even to her own surprise, if not to her greatconfusion.
"I will--I must deal as plainly with you, as I would with poor, dearHetty, were that sweet child living!" she continued, turning paleinstead of blushing, the high resolution by which she was promptedreversing the effect that such a procedure would ordinarily produce onone of her sex; "yes, I will smother all other feelings, in the one thatis now uppermost! You love the woods and the life that we pass, here, inthe wilderness, away from the dwellings and towns of the whites."
"As I loved my parents, Judith, when they was living! This very spotwould be all creation to me, could this war be fairly over, once; andthe settlers kept at a distance."
"Why quit it, then? It has no owner--at least none who can claima better right than mine, and that I freely give to you. Were it akingdom, Deerslayer, I think I should delight to say the same. Let usthen return to it, after we have seen the priest at the fort, and neverquit it again, until God calls us away to that world where we shall findthe spirits of my poor mother and sister."
A long, thoughtful pause succeeded; Judith here covered her face withboth her hands, after forcing herself to utter so plain a proposal, andDeerslayer musing equally in sorrow and surprise, on the meaning ofthe language he had just heard. At length the hunter broke the silence,speaking in a tone that was softened to gentleness by his desire not tooffend.
"You haven't thought well of this, Judith," he said, "no, your feelin'sare awakened by all that has lately happened, and believin' yourself tobe without kindred in the world, you are in too great haste to find someto fill the places of them that's lost."
"Were I living in a crowd of friends, Deerslayer, I should still thinkas I now think--say as I now say," returned Judith, speaking with herhands still shading her lovely face.
"Thank you, gal--thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Howsever, Iam not one to take advantage of a weak moment, when you're forgetful ofyour own great advantages, and fancy 'arth and all it holds is in thislittle canoe. No--no--Judith, 'twould be onginerous in me; what you'veoffered can never come to pass!"
"It all may be, and that without leaving cause of repentance to any,"answered Judith, with an impetuosity of feeling and manner that at onceunveiled her eyes. "We can cause the soldiers to leave our goods on theroad, till we return, when they can easily be brought back to the house;the lake will be no more visited by the enemy, this war at least; allyour skins may be readily sold at the garrison; there you can buy thefew necessaries we shall want, for I wish never to see the spot, again;and Deerslayer," added the girl smiling with a sweetness and nature thatthe young man found it hard to resist, "as a proof how wholly I am andwish to be yours,--how completely I desire to be nothing but your wife,the very first fire that we kindle, after our return, shall be lightedwith the brocade dress, and fed by every article I have that you maythink unfit for the woman you wish to live with!"
"Ah's me!--you're a winning and a lovely creatur', Judith; yes, you areall that, and no one can deny it and speak truth. These pictur's arepleasant to the thoughts, but they mightn't prove so happy as you nowthink 'em. Forget it all, therefore, and let us paddle after the Sarpentand Hist, as if nothing had been said on the subject."
Judith was deeply mortified, and, what is more, she was profoundlygrieved. Still there was a steadiness and quiet in the manner ofDeerslayer that completely smothered her hopes, and told her that foronce her exceeding beauty had failed to excite the admiration and homageit
was wont to receive. Women are said seldom to forgive those whoslight their advances, but this high spirited and impetuous girlentertained no shadow of resentment, then or ever, against the fairdealing and ingenuous hunter. At the moment, the prevailing feeling wasthe wish to be certain that there was no misunderstanding. After anotherpainful pause, therefore, she brought the matter to an issue by aquestion too direct to admit of equivocation.
"God forbid that we lay up regrets, in after life, through my want ofsincerity now," she said. "I hope we understand each other, at least.You will not accept me for a wife, Deerslayer?"
"'Tis better for both that I shouldn't take advantage of your ownforgetfulness, Judith. We can never marry."
"You do not love me,--cannot find it in your heart, perhaps, to esteemme, Deerslayer!"
"Everything in the way of fri'ndship, Judith--everything, even tosarvices and life itself. Yes, I'd risk as much for you, at this moment,as I would risk in behalf of Hist, and that is sayin' as much as I cansay of any darter of woman. I do not think I feel towards either--mind Isay either, Judith--as if I wished to quit father and mother--if fatherand mother was livin', which, howsever, neither is--but if both waslivin', I do not feel towards any woman as if I wish'd to quit 'em inorder to cleave unto her."
"This is enough!" answered Judith, in a rebuked and smothered voice."I understand all that you mean. Marry you cannot with loving, and thatlove you do not feel for me. Make no answer, if I am right, for I shallunderstand your silence. That will be painful enough of itself."
Deerslayer obeyed her, and he made no reply. For more than a minute, thegirl riveted her bright eyes on him as if to read his soul, while hewas playing with the water like a corrected school boy. Then Judith,herself, dropped the end of her paddle, and urged the canoe away fromthe spot, with a movement as reluctant as the feelings which controlledit. Deerslayer quietly aided the effort, however, and they were soon onthe trackless line taken by the Delaware.
In their way to the point, not another syllable was exchanged betweenDeerslayer and his fair companion. As Judith sat in the bow of thecanoe, her back was turned towards him, else it is probable theexpression of her countenance might have induced him to venture somesoothing terms of friendship and regard. Contrary to what would havebeen expected, resentment was still absent, though the colour frequentlychanged from the deep flush of mortification to the paleness ofdisappointment. Sorrow, deep, heart-felt sorrow, however, was thepredominant emotion, and this was betrayed in a manner not to bemistaken.
As neither labored hard at the paddle, the ark had already arrivedand the soldiers had disembarked before the canoe of the two loiterersreached the point. Chingachgook had preceded it, and was already somedistance in the wood, at a spot where the two trails, that to thegarrison and that to the villages of the Delawares, separated. Thesoldiers, too, had taken up their line of march, first setting the Arkadrift again, with a reckless disregard of its fate. All this Judithsaw, but she heeded it not. The glimmerglass had no longer any charmsfor her, and when she put her foot on the strand, she immediatelyproceeded on the trail of the soldiers without casting a single glancebehind her. Even Hist was passed unnoticed, that modest young creatureshrinking from the averted face of Judith, as if guilty herself of somewrongdoing.
"Wait you here, Sarpent," said Deerslayer as he followed in thefootsteps of the dejected beauty, while passing his friend. "I will justsee Judith among her party, and come and j'ine you."
A hundred yards had hid the couple from those in front, as well as thosein their rear, when Judith turned, and spoke.
"This will do, Deerslayer," she said sadly. "I understand your kindnessbut shall not need it. In a few minutes I shall reach the soldiers. Asyou cannot go with me on the journey of life, I do not wish you to gofurther on this. But, stop--before we part, I would ask you a singlequestion. And I require of you, as you fear God, and reverence thetruth, not to deceive me in your answer. I know you do not love anotherand I can see but one reason why you cannot, will not love me. Tell methen, Deerslayer," The girl paused, the words she was about to utterseeming to choke her. Then rallying all her resolution, with a face thatflushed and paled at every breath she drew, she continued.
"Tell me then, Deerslayer, if anything light of me, that Henry March hassaid, may not have influenced your feelings?"
Truth was the Deerslayer's polar star. He ever kept it in view, and itwas nearly impossible for him to avoid uttering it, even when prudencedemanded silence. Judith read his answer in his countenance, and with aheart nearly broken by the consciousness of undue erring, she signed tohim an adieu, and buried herself in the woods. For some time Deerslayerwas irresolute as to his course; but, in the end, he retraced his steps,and joined the Delaware. That night the three camped on the head watersof their own river, and the succeeding evening they entered the villageof the tribe, Chingachgook and his betrothed in triumph; their companionhonored and admired, but in a sorrow that it required months of activityto remove.
The war that then had its rise was stirring and bloody. The Delawarechief rose among his people, until his name was never mentioned withouteulogiums, while another Uncas, the last of his race, was added to thelong line of warriors who bore that distinguishing appellation. As forthe Deerslayer, under the sobriquet of Hawkeye, he made his fame spreadfar and near, until the crack of his rifle became as terrible to theears of the Mingos as the thunders of the Manitou. His services weresoon required by the officers of the crown, and he especially attachedhimself in the field to one in particular, with whose after life he hada close and important connection.
Fifteen years had passed away, ere it was in the power of the Deerslayerto revisit the Glimmerglass. A peace had intervened, and it was on theeve of another and still more important war, when he and his constantfriend, Chingachgook, were hastening to the forts to join their allies.A stripling accompanied them, for Hist already slumbered beneaththe pines of the Delawares, and the three survivors had now becomeinseparable. They reached the lake just as the sun was setting. Here allwas unchanged. The river still rushed through its bower of trees; thelittle rock was washing away, by the slow action of the waves, in thecourse of centuries, the mountains stood in their native dress, dark,rich and mysterious, while the sheet glistened in its solitude, abeautiful gem of the forest.
The following morning, the youth discovered one of the canoes driftedon the shore, in a state of decay. A little labor put it in a state forservice, and they all embarked, with a desire to examine the place. Allthe points were passed, and Chingachgook pointed out to his son thespot where the Hurons had first encamped, and the point whence he hadsucceeded in stealing his bride. Here they even landed, but all tracesof the former visit had disappeared. Next they proceeded to the scene ofthe battle, and there they found a few of the signs that linger aroundsuch localities. Wild beasts had disinterred many of the bodies, andhuman bones were bleaching in the rains of summer. Uncas regarded allwith reverence and pity, though traditions were already rousing hisyoung mind to the ambition and sternness of a warrior.
From the point, the canoe took its way toward the shoal, where theremains of the castle were still visible, a picturesque ruin. The stormsof winter had long since unroofed the house, and decay had eaten intothe logs. All the fastenings were untouched, but the seasons riotedin the place, as if in mockery at the attempt to exclude them. Thepalisades were rotting, as were the piles, and it was evident that a fewmore recurrences of winter, a few more gales and tempests, wouldsweep all into the lake, and blot the building from the face of thatmagnificent solitude. The graves could not be found. Either the elementshad obliterated their traces, or time had caused those who looked forthem to forget their position.
The Ark was discovered stranded on the eastern shore, where it had longbefore been driven with the prevalent northwest winds. It lay on thesandy extremity of a long low point, that is situated about two milesfrom the outlet, and which is itself fast disappearing before the actionof the elements. The scow was filled with water,
the cabin unroofed, andthe logs were decaying. Some of its coarser furniture still remained,and the heart of Deerslayer beat quick, as he found a ribbon of Judith'sfluttering from a log. It recalled all her beauty, and we may addall her failings. Although the girl had never touched his heart, theHawkeye, for so we ought now to call him, still retained a kind andsincere interest in her welfare. He tore away the ribbon, and knotted itto the stock of Killdeer, which had been the gift of the girl herself.
A few miles farther up the lake, another of the canoes was discovered,and on the point where the party finally landed, were found those whichhad been left there upon the shore. That in which the present navigationwas made, and the one discovered on the eastern shore, had droppedthrough the decayed floor of the castle, drifted past the fallingpalisades, and had been thrown as waifs upon the beach.
From all these signs, it was probable the lake had not been visitedsince the occurrence of the final scene of our tale. Accident ortradition had rendered it again a spot sacred to nature, the frequentwars and the feeble population of the colonies still confining thesettlements within narrow boundaries. Chingachgook and his friend leftthe spot with melancholy feelings. It had been the region of their FirstWar Path, and it carried back the minds of both to scenes of tenderness,as well as to hours of triumph. They held their way towards the Mohawkin silence, however, to rush into new adventures, as stirring and asremarkable as those which had attended their opening careers on thislovely lake. At a later day they returned to the place, where the Indianfound a grave.
Time and circumstances have drawn an impenetrable mystery around allelse connected with the Hutters. They lived, erred, died, and areforgotten. None connected have felt sufficient interest in the disgracedand disgracing to withdraw the veil, and a century is about to eraseeven the recollection of their names. The history of crime is everrevolting, and it is fortunate that few love to dwell on its incidents.The sins of the family have long since been arraigned at the judgmentseat of God, or are registered for the terrible settlement of the lastgreat day.
The same fate attended Judith. When Hawkeye reached the garrison on theMohawk he enquired anxiously after that lovely but misguided creature.None knew her--even her person was no longer remembered. Other officershad, again and again, succeeded the Warleys and Craigs and Grahams,though an old sergeant of the garrison, who had lately come fromEngland, was enabled to tell our hero that Sir Robert Warley lived onhis paternal estates, and that there was a lady of rare beauty in theLodge who had great influence over him, though she did not bear hisname. Whether this was Judith relapsed into her early failing, or someother victim of the soldier's, Hawkeye never knew, nor would it bepleasant or profitable to inquire. We live in a world of transgressionsand selfishness, and no pictures that represent us otherwise can betrue, though, happily, for human nature, gleamings of that pure spiritin whose likeness man has been fashioned are to be seen, relieving itsdeformities, and mitigating if not excusing its crimes.
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