 CHAPTER XXIII The wind is great upon the highest hills. The quiet life is in the dale below. Who tread on ice shall slide against their wills. They want not cares that curious arts should know. Who lives at ease and can content him so is perfect wise and sets us all to school. Who hates this lore may well be called a fool. Thomas Churchyard, Shor's Wife, XXXVII The meeting between Dearslayer and his friends in the Ark was grave and anxious. The two Indians in particular read in his manner that he was not a successful fugitive, but a few sententious words suffice to let them comprehend the nature of what their friend had termed his furlough. Chingochkoek immediately became thoughtful, while Hist, as usual, had no better mode of expressing her sympathy than by those little attentions which marked the affectionate manner of woman. In a few minutes, however, something like a general plan for the proceedings of the night was adopted, and to the eye of an uninstructed observer things would be thought to move in their ordinary train. It was now getting to be dark, and it was decided to sweep the Ark up to the castle and secure it in its ordinary berth. This decision was come to, in some measure on account of the fact that all the canoes were again in the possession of their proper owners, but principally from the security that was created by the representations of Dearslayer. He had examined the state of things among the Hurons, and felt satisfied that they meditated no further hostilities during the night, the loss they had met having indisposed them to further exertions for the moment. Then he had a proposition to make, the object of his visit, and if this were accepted the war would at once terminate between the parties, and it was improbable that the Hurons would anticipate the failure of a project on which their chiefs had apparently set their hearts by having recourse to violence previously to the return of their messenger. As soon as the Ark was properly secured, the different members of the party occupied themselves in their several peculiar manners, haste and council, or indecision, no more characterizing the proceedings of these border whites than it did those of their red neighbors. The women busied themselves in preparations for the evening meal, sad and silent, but ever attentive to the first wants of nature. Every set about repairing his moccasins by the light of a blazing knot, Chingachuk seated himself in gloomy thought, while Deerslayer proceeded in a manner equally free from affectation and concern to examine Kildir, the rifle of Hutter that has already been mentioned and which subsequently became so celebrated in the hands of the individual who was now making a survey of its merits. The peace was a little longer than usual, and had evidently been turned out from the workshops of some manufacturer of a superior order. It had a few silver ornaments, though on the whole it would have been deemed a plain peace by most frontier men. Its great merit consisting in the accuracy of its bore, the perfection of the details, and the excellence of the metal. Again and again did the hunter apply the breach to his shoulder, and glance his eye along the sights, and as often did he poise his body and raise the weapon slowly as if about to catch an aim at a deer, in order to try the weight, and to ascertain its fitness for quick and accurate firing. All this was done by the aid of Hury's torch, simply but with an earnestness and abstraction that would have been found touching by any spectator who happened to know the real situation of the man. "'Tis a glorious weapon, Hury,' Deerslayer at length exclaimed, and it may be thought a pity that it has fallen into the hands of women. The hunters have told me of its exploits, and by all I have heard I should set it down as certain death inexperienced hands. Harken to the tick of this lock-a-wolf trap hasn't a livelier spring. Pan and cock speak together, like two singing masters undertaking a psalm and meaten. I never did see so true a bore, Hury, that's Sartan. I, old Tom, used to give the piece a character, though he wasn't the man to particularize the real nature of any sort of firearms, in practice, returned March, passing the deer's thongs through the moccasin with the coolness of a cobbler. He was no marksman, that we must all allow, but he had his good points as well as his bad ones. I have had hopes that Judith might consate the idea of giving kill-deer to me. There's no saying what young women may do, that's a truth, Hury, and I suppose you're as likely to own the rifle as another, still. When things are so very near perfection, it's a pity not to reach it entirely. What do you mean by that? Would not that piece look as well on my shoulder as on any man's? As for looks, I say nothing. You are both good-looking, and might make what is called a good-looking couple. But the true point is, as to conduct, more deer would fall in one day by that piece in some man's hands than would fall in a week in your own, Hury. I've seen you try. Yes, remember the buck the other day. That buck was out of season, and who wishes to kill venison out of season? I was merely trying to frighten the creature, and I think you will own that he was pretty well scared at any rate. Well, well, have it, as you say. But this is a lordly piece, and would make a steady hand and quick eye the king of the woods. Then keep it, dear Slayer! And become king of the woods," said Judith, earnestly, who had heard the conversation, and whose eye was never long averted from the honest countenance of the hunter. It can never be in better hands than it is at this moment, and there I hope it will remain these fifty years. Judith, you can't be an earnest, exclaimed dear Slayer, taken so much by surprise as to betray more emotion than it was usual for him to manifest on ordinary occasions. Such a gift would be fit for a real king to make, yes, and for a real king to receive. I never was more in earnest in my life, dear Slayer, and I am as much in earnest in the wish as in the gift. Well, gal, well, we'll find time to talk of this again. You mustn't be downhearted, hurry, for Judith is a sprightly young woman, and she has a quick reason. She knows that the credit of her father's rifle is safer in my hands than it could possibly be in your own. And therefore you mustn't be downhearted. In other matters, more to your liking too, you'll find she'll give you the preference. Hurry growled out his dissatisfaction, but he was too intent on quitting the lake, and in making his preparations, to waste his breath on a subject of this nature. Shortly after the supper was ready, and it was eaten in silence, as is so much the habit of those who consider the table as merely a place of animal refreshment. On this occasion, however, sadness and thought contributed their share to the general desire not to converse. For dear Slayer was so far an exception to the usages of men of his caste, as not only to wish to hold discourse on such occasions, but as often to create a similar desire in his companions. The meal ended, and the humble preparations removed, the whole party assembled on the platform to hear the expected intelligence from dear Slayer on the subject of his visit. It had been evident he was in no haste to make his communication, but the feelings of Judith would no longer admit of delay. Those were brought from the ark and the hut, and the whole six placed themselves in a circle, near the door, watching each other's countenances, as best they could, by the scanty means that were furnished by a lovely starlight night. Along the shores beneath the mountains lay the usual body of gloom, but in the broad lake no shadow was cast, and a thousand mimic stars were dancing in the limpid element, that was just stirred enough by the evening air to set them all in motion. Now, dear Slayer commenced Judith, whose impatience resisted further restraint. Now, dear Slayer, tell us all the Hurons have to say, and the reason why they have sent you on parole to make us some offer. Furlough, Judith, furlough is the word, and it carries the same meaning with a captive at large as it does with a soldier who has lived to quit his colors. In both cases the word is passed to come back, and now I remember to have heard that's the real signification, furlough meaning a word passed for the doing of anything of the like. Parole I rather think is Dutch, and has something to do with the tattoos of the garrisons. But this makes no great difference, since the varchu of a pledge lies in the I.D., and not in the word. Well then, if the message must be given, it must, and perhaps there is no use in putting it off. Hurry will soon be wanting to set out on his journey to the river, and the stars rise and set, just as if they cared for neither engine nor message. As me! Tisn't a pleasant, and I know it's a useless, ironed, but it must be told. Harkey, dear Slayer, put in hurry, a little authoritatively. You're a sensible man in a haunt, and is good a fellow on a march, as a sixty-mileer a day would wish to meet with. But you're uncommon, slow, about messages, especially them that you think won't be likely to be well received. When a thing is to be told, why tell it, and don't hang back like a Yankee lawyer pretending he can't understand a Dutchman's English, just to get a double fee out of him. I understand you, hurry, and well are you named to-night, seeing you've no time to lose. But let us come at once to the pint. Seeing that's the object of this Council, for Council it may be called though women have seats among us. The simple fact is this. When the party came back from the Castle the mingles held a council, and bitter thoughts were uppermost, as was plain to be seen by their gloomy faces. No one likes to be beaten, and a red skin as little as a pale face. Well, when they had smoked upon it and made their speeches and their council fire had burnt low, the matter came out. It seems the elders among them consented I was a man to be trusted on a furlough. Their wonderful observant them mingles. That their worst mimics must allow. But they consated I was such a man. And it isn't often, added the hunter, with a pleasing consciousness that his previous life justified this implicit reliance on his good faith. It isn't often they consate anything so good of a pale face. But so they did with me, and therefore they didn't hesitate to speak their minds, which is just this. You see the state of things. The lake and all on it they fancy lie at their Marcy. Thomas Hutter is deceased. And as for hurry, they've got the idea he has been near enough to death today not to wish to take another look at him this summer. Therefore they account all your forces as reduced to Chingachcook and the two young women. And while they know the Delaware to be of a high race, and a born warrior, they know he's now on his first war-path. As for the gals, of course, they set them down as much as they do women in general. You mean that they despise us, interrupted Judith, with eyes that flashed so brightly as to be observed by all present. That will be seen in the end. They hold that all on the lake lies at their Marcy, and therefore they send by me this belt of wampum, showing the article in question to the Delaware as he spoke, with these words. While the Sarpent they say, that he has done well for a beginner, he may now strike across the mountains for his own villages, and no one shall look for his trail. If he has found a scalp, let him take it with him, for the Huron braves have hearts, and can feel for a young warrior who doesn't wish to go home empty-handed. If he is nimble, he is welcome to lead out a party in pursuit. Hist, however, must go back to the Hurons, for when she left there in the night she carried away, by mistake, that which doesn't belong to her. That can't be true, said Hettie earnestly. Hist is no such girl, but one that gives everybody his due. How much more she would have said in remonstrance cannot be known, in as much as Hist, partly laughing and partly hiding her face in shame, passed her own hand across the speaker's mouth in a way to check the words. You don't understand mingo-messages, poor Hettie, resumed dear Slayer, which seldom mean what lies exactly uppermost. Hist has brought away, with her, the inclinations of a young Huron. And they want her back again, that the poor young man may find them where he last saw them. The serpent they say is too promising a young warrior, not to find as many wives as he wants, but this one he cannot have. That's their meaning, and nothing else, as I understand it. They are very obliging and thoughtful in supposing a young woman can forget all her own inclinations in order to let this unhappy youth find his, said Judith, ironically, though her manner became more bitter as she proceeded. I suppose a woman is a woman, let her color be white or red, and your chiefs know little of a woman's heart, dear Slayer, if they think it can never forgive when wronged or ever forget when it fairly loves. I suppose that's pretty much the truth with some women, Judith, though I've known them that could do both. The next message is to you. They say the muskrat, as they called your father, has dove to the bottom of the lake, that he will never come up again, and that his young will soon be in want of wigwams if not of food. The Huron Hots, they think, are better than the Hots of York, and they wish you to come and try them. Your color is white they own, but they think young women who've lived so long in the woods would lose their way in the clearance. A great warrior among them has lately lost his wife, and he would be glad to put the wild rose on her bench at his fireside. As for the feeble mind she will always be honored and taken care of by red warriors. Your father's goods they think ought to go to enrich the tribe. But your own property, which is to include everything of a female nature, will go like that of all wives into the wigwam of the husband. Moreover, they've lost a young maiden by violence lately, and will take two pale faces to fill her seat. And do you bring such a message to me, exclaimed Judith? Though the tone in which the words were uttered had more in it of sorrow than of anger. Am I a girl to be an Indian's slave? If you wish my honest thoughts on this point, Judith, I shall answer that I don't think you'll willingly ever become any man's slave. Red skin or white? You're not to think hard, however, of my bringing the message as near as I could in the very words in which it was given to me. Then was the conditions on which I got my furlough, and a bargain as a bargain, though it is made with a vagabond. I've told you what they've said, but I've not yet told you what I think you ought, one and all, to answer. Aye, let's hear that, dear Slayer, put in hurry. My curiosity is up on that consideration, and I should like, right well, to hear your ideas on the reasonableness of the reply. For my part, though, my own mind is pretty much settled on the pint of my own answer, which shall be made known as soon as necessary. And so is mine, hurry, on all the different heads, and on no one is it more certainly settled than on your own. If I was you, I should say, dear Slayer, tell them scamps they don't know Harry March. He is human, and having a white skin he has also a white nature, which nature won't let him desert females of his own race and gifts in their greatest need. So set me down as one that will refuse to come into your treaty, though you should smoke a hog's head of tobacco over it. March was a little embarrassed at this rebuke, which was uttered with sufficient warmth of manner, and with a point that left no doubt of the meaning. Had Judith encouraged him, he would not have hesitated about remaining to defend her and her sister, but under the circumstances a feeling of resentment rather urged him to abandon them. At all events there was not a sufficiency of chivalry in hurry Harry to induce him to hazard the safety of his own person unless he could see a direct connection between the probable consequences and his own interests. It is no wonder, therefore, that his answer partook equally of his intention and of the reliance he so boastingly placed on his gigantic strength, which if it did not always make him outrageous, usually made him impudent as respects those with whom he conversed. Fair words make long friendships, Master Dear Slayer, he said a little menacingly. You're but a stripling, and you know by experience what you are in the hands of a man. As you're not me, but only a go-between sent by the savages to us Christians, you may tell your employers that they do know Harry March, which is a proof of their sense as well as his. He's human enough to follow human nature, and that tells him to see the folly of one man's fighting a whole tribe. If females desert him, they must expect to be deserted by him, whether they're of his own gifts or another man's gifts. Should Judith see fit to change her mind, she's welcome to my company to the river, and het he with her. But shouldn't she come to this conclusion, I start as soon as I think the enemy's scouts are beginning to nestle themselves in among the brush and leaves for the night. Judith will not change her mind, and she does not ask your company, Master March, return the girl with spirit. That pint settled then, resumed dear Slayer, unmoved by the other's warmth. Harry Harry must act for himself, and do that which will be most likely to suit his own fancy. The course he means to take will give him an easy race, if it don't give him an easy conscience. Next comes the question with hisst. What say you, gal? Do you desert your duty, too, and go back to the mingos and take a hereon husband, and all not for the love of the man you're to marry, but for the love of your own scalp? Why, you talk so to hisst, demanded the girl half offended. You tink a red-skinned girl made like Captain's Lady to laugh and joke with any officer that come? What I think hisst is neither here nor there in this matter. I must carry back your answer, and in order to do so it is necessary that you should send it. A faithful messenger gives hisst ironed word for word. Hisst no longer hesitated to speak her mind fully. In the excitement she rose from her bench, and naturally recurring to that language in which she expressed herself, the most readily she delivered her thoughts and intentions, beautifully and with dignity in the tongue of her own people. Tell the hereons, dear Slayer, she said, that they are as ignorant as moles. They don't know the wolf from the dog. Among my people the rose dies on the stem where it budded. The tears of the child fall on the graves of its parents. The corn grows where the seed has been planted. The Delaware girls are not messengers to be sent like belts of wampum from tribe to tribe. They are honeysuckles that are sweetest in their own woods. Their own young men carry them away in their bosoms, because they are fragrant. They are sweetest when plucked from their native stems. Even the robin and the martin come back year after year to their old nests. Shall a woman be less true-hearted than a bird? Set the pine in the clay and it will turn yellow. The willow will not flourish on the hill. The tamarack is healthiest in the swamp. The tribes of the sea love best to hear the winds that blow over the salt water. As for a Huron youth, what is he to a maiden of the Leni Lenepe? He may be fleet, but her eyes do not follow him in the race. They look back towards the lodges of the Delaware's. He may sing a sweet song for the girls of Canada, but there is no music for wah. But in the tongue she has listened to from childhood. Were the Huron born of the people that once owned the shores of the Salt Lake, it would be in vain unless he were of the family of Unkas. The young pine will rise to be as high as any of its fathers. Watawa has but one heart, and it can love but one husband. Dear Slayer listened to this characteristic message which was given with an earnestness suited to the feelings from which it sprung, with undisguised delight, meeting the ardent eloquence of the girl as she concluded, with one of his own heartfelt silent and peculiar fits of laughter. That's worth all the Whoppum in the woods, he exclaimed. You don't understand it, I suppose, Judith, but if you'll look into your feelings and fancy that an enemy had sent to tell you to give up the man of your choice, and to take up with another that wasn't the man of your choice, you'll get the substance of it I'll warrant. Give me a woman for real eloquence if they'll only make up their minds to speak what they feel. By speaking I don't mean chatter in house ever, for most of them will do that by the hour, but come out with their honest deepest feelings in proper words. And now, Judith, having got the answer of a red-skinned girl it is fit I should get that of a pale face, if indeed a countenance that is as blooming as yarn can in any wise be so tarmed. You are well named the Wild Rose, and so far as color goes had he ought to be called the honeysuckle. Did this language come from one of the garrison gallants I should rewrite it, dear Slayer, but coming from you I know it can be depended on, returned Judith, deeply gratified by his unmeditated and characteristic compliments. It is too soon, however, to ask my answer. The Great Serpent has not yet spoken. The Serpent! Lord! I could carry back his speech without hearing a word of it. I didn't think of putting the question to him at all, I will allow. Though it would be hardly right, either, seeing that the truth is just as truth, and I am bound to tell these mingles the fact and nothing else. So, Chingichuk, let us hear your mind on this matter. Are you inclined to strike across the hills towards your village, to give up his to a Huron, and to tell the chiefs at home that, if they are active and successful, they may possibly get on the end of the Iroquois trail some two or three days after the enemy has got off of it? Like is betrothed, the young chief arose, that his answer might be given with due distinctness and dignity. Hist had spoken with her hands crossed upon her bosom, as if to suppress the emotions within, but the warrior stretched an arm before him with a calm energy that aided in giving emphasis to his expressions. Wampum should be sent for Wampum, he said. A message must be answered by a message. Here what the Great Serpent of the Delaware's has to say to the pretended wolves from the Great Lakes that are howling through our woods. They are no wolves. They are dogs that have come to get their tails and ears cropped by the hands of the Delaware's. They are good at stealing young women, bad at keeping them. Jingochuk takes his own where he finds it. He asks leave of no cure from the Canada's. If he has a tender feeling in his heart it is no business of the Hurons. He tells it to her who most likes to know it. He will not bellow it in the forest, for the ears of those that only understand yells of terror. What passes in his lodge is not for the chiefs of his own people to know, still less for mingo rogues. Call him Vagabond's Serpent, interrupted, dear slayer, unable to restrain his delight. Yes, just call him up and down Vagabond's, which is a word easily interpreted and the most hateful of all to their ears. It's so true. Never fear me. I'll give him your message, syllable for syllable, sneer for sneer, id for id. Scorn for scorn. And they desire no better at your hands. Only call him Vagabond's once or twice, and that will set the sap mounting in him, from their lowest roots to the uppermost branches. Still less for mingo Vagabond's resumed Jingochuk quite willingly complying with his friend's request. Tell the Huron dogs to howl louder, if they wish a Delaware to find them in the woods, where they burrow like foxes instead of hunting like warriors. When they had a Delaware maiden in their camp there was a reason for hunting them up. Now they will be forgotten unless they make a noise. Jingochuk don't like the trouble of going to his villages for more warriors. He can strike their runaway trail. Unless they hide it underground he will follow it to Canada alone. He will keep Watawa with him to cook his game. They too will be Delaware's enough to scare all the Hurons back to their own country. That's a grand dispatch as the officers call them things, by dearslayer, to set all the Huron blood in motion. Most particularly that part where he tells them HIST, too, will keep on their heels till they are fairly driven out of the country. As me. Big words ain't always big deeds not withstanding. The Lord send that we be able to be only half as good as we promise to be. And now, Judith, it's your turn to speak. For them miscreants will expect an answer from each person. Poor Hetty perhaps accepted. And why not, Hetty, dearslayer? She often speaks to the purpose. The Indians may respect her words, for they feel for people in her condition. That is true, Judith, and quick thought it in you. The Redskins do respect misfortunes of all kinds, and Hetty's in particular, so Hetty, if you have anything to say I'll carry it to the Hurons as faithfully as if it was spoken by a school master, or a missionary. The girl hesitated a moment, and then she answered in her own gentle soft tones, as earnestly as any who had preceded her. The Hurons can't understand the difference between white people and themselves, she said. Or they wouldn't ask Judith and me to go and live in their villages. God has given one country to the Red Men, and another to us. He meant us to live apart. Then Mother always said that we should never dwell with any but Christians, if possible. And that is a reason why we can't go. This lake is ours, and we won't leave it. Father and Mother's graves are in it, and even the worst Indians love to stay near the graves of their fathers. I will come and see them again if they wish me to, and read more out of the Bible to them, but I can't quit Father's and Mother's graves. That will do, that will do, Hetty, just as well as if you sent them a message twice as long, interrupt of the Hunter, I'll tell them all you said, and all you mean, and I'll answer for it that they'll be easily satisfied. Now Judith, your turn comes next. And then this part of my errand will be terminated for the night. Judith manifested a reluctance to give her reply, that had awakened a little curiosity in the messenger. Judging from her known spirit, he had never supposed the girl would be less true to her feelings and principles than Hist, or Hetty, and yet there was a visible wavering of purpose that rendered him slightly uneasy. Even now, when directly required to speak, she seemed to hesitate, nor did she open her lips until the profound silence told her how anxiously her words were expected. Then indeed she spoke, but it was doubtingly and with reluctance. Tell me first, tell us first, she commenced, repeating the words merely to change the emphasis. What effect will our answers have on your fate? If you were to be the sacrifice of our spirit, it would have been better had we all been more wary as to the language we use. But then are likely to be the consequences to yourself. Lord Judith, you might as well ask me which way the wind will blow next week, or what will be the age of the next deer that will be shot. I can only say that their faces look a little dark upon me. But it doesn't thunder every time a black cloud rises, nor does every puff of wind blow up rain. That's a question, therefore, much more easily put than answered. So is this message of the Iroquois to me, answered Judith rising, as if she had determined on her own course for the present? My answer shall be given, dear Slayer, after you and I have talked together alone, when the others have laid themselves down for the night. There was a decision in the manner of the girl that disposed dear Slayer to comply, and this he did the more readily as the delay could produce no material consequences one way or the other. The meeting now broke up, hurry announcing his resolution to leave them speedily, during the hour that was suffered to intervene, in order that the darkness might deepen before the frontiermen took his departure, the different individuals occupied themselves in their customary modes, the hunter in particular passing most of the time in making further enquiries into the perfection of the rifle already mentioned. The hour of nine soon arrived, however, and then it had been determined that hurry should commence his journey. Instead of making his adduce, frankly, and in a generous spirit, the little he thought it necessary to say was uttered sullenly and in coldness, resentment of what he considered Judith's obstinacy was blended with mortification at the career he had since reaching the lake, and, as is usual with the vulgar and narrow-minded, he was more disposed to reproach others with his failures than to censure himself. Judith gave him her hand, but it was quite as much in gladness as with regret, while the two Delaware's were not sorry to find he was leaving them. Of the whole party Hedy alone betrayed any real feeling. Bashfulness and the timidity of her sex and character kept even her aloof, so that hurry entered the canoe where Dear Slayer was already waiting for him before she ventured near enough to be observed. Then indeed the girl came into the ark and approached its end just as the little bark was turning from it, with a movement so light and steady as to be almost imperceptible. An impulse of feeling now overcame her timidity, and Hedy spoke. Good-bye, hurry! she called out in her sweet voice. Good-bye, dear hurry! Take care of yourself in the woods and don't stop once till you reach the garrison. The leaves on the trees are scarcely plentier than the herons round the lake, and they'll not treat a strong man like you as kindly as they treat me. The ascendancy with which March had obtained over this feeble-minded but right-thinking and right-feeling girl arose from a law of nature. Her senses had been captivated by his personal advantages, and her moral communications with him had never been sufficiently intimate to counteract an effect that must have been otherwise lessened, even with one whose mind was as obtuse as her own. Hedy's instinct of right, if such a term can be applied to one who seemed taught by some kind spirit how to steer her course with unerring accuracy between good and evil, would have revolted at hurry's character on a thousand points had there been opportunities to enlighten her. But while he conversed and trifled with her sister at a distance from herself, his perfection of form and feature had been left to produce their influence on her simple imagination and naturally tender feelings, without suffering by the alloy of his opinions in coarseness. It is true she found him rough and rude, but her father was not, and most of the other men she had seen, and that which she believed to belong to all of the sex struck her less unfavorably in hurry's character than it might otherwise have done. Still, it was not absolutely love that Hedy felt for hurry, nor do we wish to portray it, but merely that awakening sensibility and admiration which, under more propitious circumstances and always supposing no untoward revelations of character on the part of the young man had supervened to prevent it, might soon have ripened into that engrossing feeling. She felt for him an incipient tenderness, but scarcely any passion. Perhaps the nearest approach to the latter that Hedy had manifested was to be seen in the sensitiveness which had caused her to detect Marche's predilection for her sister. For among Judith's many admirers this was the only instance in which the dull mind of the girl had been quickened into an observation of the circumstances. Hurry received so little sympathy at his departure that the gentle tones of Hedy, as she thus called after him, sounded soothingly. He checked the canoe, and with one sweep of his powerful arm brought it back to the side of the ark. This was more than Hedy whose courage had risen with the departure of her hero expected, and she now shrunk timidly back at this unexpected return. You're a good gal, Hedy, and I can't quit you without shaking hands, said Marche kindly. Judith, after all, isn't worth as much as you, though she may be a trifle better looking. As to Witt's, if honesty and fair dealing with a young man is a sign of sense in a young woman, you're worth a dozen Judith's, I, and for that matter most young women of my acquaintance. Don't say anything against Judith, Harry, returned Hedy imploringly. She's gone, and mother's gone, and nobody's left but Judith and me, and it isn't right for sisters to speak evil, or to hear evil, of each other. Father's in the lake, and so is mother, and we should all fear God, for we don't know when we may be in the lake, too. That sounds reasonable, child, as does most you say. Well, if we ever meet again, Hedy, you'll find a friend in me, let your sister do what she may. I was no great friend of your mother, I'll allow, for we didn't think alike on most pints. But then your father, old Tom and I, fitted each other as remarkably as a buckskin garment will fit any reasonable-built man. I've always been unanimous of opinion that old floating Tom Hutter, at the bottom, was a good fellow, and will maintain that again all enemies for his sake, as well as for urine. Good-bye, Harry, said Hedy, who now wanted to hasten the young man off as ardently as she'd wished to keep him only the moment before, though she could give no clearer account of the latter than the former feeling. Good-bye, Harry, take care of yourself in the woods. Don't halt till you reach the garrison. I'll read a chapter in the Bible for you before I go to bed, and think of you in my prayers. This was touching a point on which March had no sympathies, and without more words he shook the girl cordially by the hand and re-entered the canoe. In another minute the two adventurers were a hundred feet from the ark, and half a dozen had not elapsed before they were completely lost to view. Hedy sighed deeply, and rejoined her sister and hissed. For some time dear Slayer and his companion paddled ahead in silence. It had been determined to land hurry at the precise point where he is represented in the commencement of our tale as having embarked. Not only as a place little likely to be watched by the Hurons, but because he was sufficiently familiar with the signs of the woods at that spot, to thread his way through them in the dark. Thither then the light-crap proceeded. Being urged as diligently and as swiftly as two vigorous and skillful canoe-men could force their little vessel through, or rather over, the water. Less than a quarter of an hour sufficed for the object, and at the end of that time, being within the shadows of the shore, and quite near the point they sought, each ceased his efforts in order to make their parting communications out of earshot of any straggler who might happen to be in the neighborhood. You will do well to persuade the officers of the garrison to lead out a party again these vagabonds as soon as you get in, hurry. Dear Slayer commenced, and you'll do better if you volunteer to guide it up—mistake—and you'll do better if you volunteer to guide it up yourself. You know the paths, and the shape of the lake, and the nature of the land, and can do it better than a common generalizing scout. Take at the Huron camp first, and follow the signs that will then show themselves. A few looks at the hut and the ark will satisfy you as to the state of the Delaware and the women, and at any rate, there'll be a fine opportunity to fall on the mingle trail, and to make a mark on the memories of the blaggards that they'll be apt to carry with them a long time. It won't be likely to make much difference with me, since that matter will be determined a fore-tomorrow's sun has set, but it may make a great change in Judith and Heddy's hopes and prospects. And as for yourself, Nathaniel, hurry inquired with more interest than he was accustomed to betray in the welfare of others. And as for yourself, what do you think is likely to turn up? The Lord in his wisdom only can tell, Henry March, the clouds look black and threatening, and I keep my mind in a state to meet the worst. Vengeful feelings are uppermost in the hearts of the mingles, and any little disappointment about the plunder or the prisoners or hists may make the torments certain. The Lord in his wisdom can only determine my fate, or yours. This is a black business, and ought to be put a stop to in some way or other, answered Hury, confounding the distinctions between right and wrong, as as usual with selfish and vulgar men. I heartily wish old Hutter and I had scalped every creature in their camp, the night we first landed with that capital object. Had you not held back, dear slayer, it might have been done, and then you wouldn't have found yourself at the last moment in the desperate condition you mention. It would have been better had you said you wished you had never attempted to do what it little becomes any white man's gifts to undertake. In which case not only might we have kept from coming to blows, but Thomas Hutter would now have been living, and the hearts of the savages would be less given to vengeance. The death of that young woman, too, was uncalled for, Henry March, and leaves a heavy load on our names if not on our consciences. This was so apparent, and it seemed so obvious to Hury himself, at the moment, that he dashed his paddle into the water and began to urge the canoe towards the shore, as if bent only on running away from his own lively remorse. His companion humored this feverish desire for change, and in a minute or two the boughs of the boat grated lightly on the shingle of the beach. To land shoulder his pack and rifle, and to get ready for his march occupied Hury but an instant, and with a growling adieu, he had already commenced his march, when a sudden twinge of feeling brought him to a dead stop and immediately after to the other's side. You cannot mean to give yourself up again to them murdering savages, dear Slayer, he said, quite as much in angry remonstrance as with generous feeling, it would be the act of a madman or a fool. There's them that thinks at madness to keep their words, and there's them that don't, Hury, Harry. You may be one of the first, but I'm one of the last. No red-skinned breathing shall have it in his power to say that Amingo minds his word more than a man of white blood and white gifts in anything that concerns me. I'm out on a furlough, and if I've strengthened reason I'll go in on a furlough a forenoon to-morrow. What's an engine, or a word past, or a furlough taken from creatures like them that have neither souls nor reason? If they've gotten neither souls nor reason you and I have both, Henry March, and one is accountable for the other. This furlough is not, as you seem to think, a matter altogether between me and the mingos, seeing it as a solemn bargain made between me and God. He who thinks that he can say what he pleases, in his distress, and that will all pass for nothing because to his uttered in the forest and into red men's ears knows little of his situation and hopes and wants. The woods are but the ears of the Almighty, the air is his breath, and the light of the sun is little more than a glance of his eye. Farewell, Harry. We may not meet again, but I would wish you never to treat a furlough or any other solemn thing that your Christian God has been called unto witness, as a duty so light that it may be forgotten according to the wants of the body, or even according to the cravings of the spirit. March was now glad again to escape. It was quite impossible that he could enter into the sentiments that ennobled his companion, and he broke away from both with an impatience that caused him secretly to curse the folly that could induce a man to rush, as it were, on his own destruction. Dear Slayer, on the contrary, manifested no such excitement. Sustained by his principles, inflexible in the purpose of acting up to them, and superior to any unmanly apprehension, he regarded all before him as a matter of course, and no more thought of making any unworthy attempt to avoid it than a musselman thinks of counteracting the decrees of Providence. He stood calmly on the shore, listening to the reckless tread with which Hurry betrayed his progress through the bushes, shook his head into satisfaction at the want of caution, and then stepped quietly into his canoe. Before he dropped the paddle again into the water, the young man gazed about him at the scene presented by the starlit night. This was the spot where he had first laid his eyes on the beautiful sheet of water on which he floated. If it was then glorious in the bright light of a summer's noon tide it was now sad and melancholy under the shadows of night. The mountains rose around it like black barriers to exclude the outer world, and the gleams of pale light that rested on the broader parts of the basin were no bad symbols of the faintness of the hopes that were so dimly visible in his own future. Sighing heavily, he pushed the canoe from the land, and took his way back with steady diligence towards the ark and the castle. Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, thy private feasting to a public fast, thy smoothing titles to a ragged name, thy sugared tongue to bitter wormwood taste, thy violent vanities can never last. Shakespeare, Rape of the Creachy, 11, 890 to 894. Judith was waiting the return of Dear Slayer on the platform, with stifled impatience when the latter reached the hut. Just and heady were both in a deep sleep on the bed usually occupied by the two daughters of the house, and the Delaware was stretched on the floor of the adjoining room, his rifle at his side, and a blanket over him, already dreaming of the events of the last few days. There was a lamp burning in the ark, for the family was accustomed to indulge in this luxury on extraordinary occasions, and possessed the means, the vessel being of a form and material to render it probable it had once been an occupant of the chest. As soon as the girl got a glimpse of the canoe, she ceased her hurried walk up and down the platform and stood ready to receive the young man, whose return she had now been anxiously expecting for some time. She helped him to fasten the canoe, and by aiding in the other little similar employments manifested her desire to reach a moment of liberty as soon as possible. When this was done, in answer to an inquiry of his, she informed him of the manner in which their companions had disposed of themselves. He listened attentively, for the manner of the girl was so earnest and impressive as to apprise him that she had something on her mind of more than common concern. "'And now, dear Slayer,' Judith continued, "'You see, I have lighted the lamp and put it in the cabin of the ark. That is never done with us unless on great occasions, and I consider this night as the most important of my life. Will you follow me and see what I have to show you? Hear what I have to say?' The hunter was a little surprised, but making no objections both were soon in the scow and in the room that contained the light. Here two stools were placed at the side of the chest with the lamp on another and a table nearby to receive the different articles as they might be brought to view. This arrangement had its rise in the feverish impatience of the girl, which could brook no delay that it was in her power to obviate. Even all the padlocks were removed, and it only remained to raise the heavy lid again to expose all the treasures of this long-secreted horde. "'I see, in part, what this all means,' observed dear Slayer. "'Yes, I see through it, in part. But why is not Heddie present? Now Thomas Hutter is gone. She is one of the owners of these curiosities, and ought to see them opened and handled.' "'Heddie sleeps,' answered Judith, huskily. "'Happily for her. Fine clothes and riches have no charms. Besides, she has this night given her share of all that the chest may hold to me. That I may do with it as I please.' "'Is poor Heddie compass enough for that, Judith?' demanded the just-minded young man. "'It's a good rule and a righteous one never to take when them that give don't know the valley of their gifts. And such as God has visited heavily in their wits ought to be dealt with as carefully as children that haven't yet come to their understandings.' "'Judith was hurt at this rebuke, coming from the person it did. But she would have felt it far more keenly had not her conscience fully acquitted her of any unjust intentions towards her feeble-minded but confiding sister. It was not a moment, however, to betray any of her usual mountings of the spirit, and she smothered the passing sensation in the desire to come to the great object she had in view.' "'Heddie will not be wronged,' she mildly answered. "'She even knows not only what I am about to do, dear Slayer, but why I do it. So take your seat, raise the lid of the chest, and this time we will go to the bottom. I shall be disappointed if something is not found to tell us more of the history of Thomas Hutter and my mother.' "'Why, Thomas Hutter, Judith, and not your father? The dead ought to meet with as much reverence as the living. I have long suspected that Thomas Hutter was not my father, though I did think he might have been Hetties, but now we know he was the father of neither. He acknowledged that much in his dying moments. I am old enough to remember better things than we have seen on this lake, though they are so faintly impressed on my memory that the earlier part of my life seems like a dream.' "'Dreams are but miserable guides when one has to determine about reality, Judith,' returned the other admonishingly, "'fancy nothing and hope nothing on their account, though I have known chiefs that thought them useful. I expect nothing for the future from them, my good friend, but cannot help remembering what has been. This is idle, however, when half an hour of examination may tell us all, or even more than I want to know.' Dear Slayer, who comprehended the girl's impatience, now took his seat and proceeded once more to bring to light the different articles that the chest contained. As a matter of course all that had been previously examined were found where they had been last deposited, and they excited much less interest or comment than when formerly exposed to view. Even Judith laid aside the rich brocade with an air of indifference, for she had a far higher aim before her than the indulgence of vanity, and was impatient to come at the still-hidden or rather unknown treasures. "'All these we have seen before,' she said, and will not stop to open. "'The bundle under your hand, dear Slayer, is a fresh one. That we will look into. God send it may contain something to tell poor Heddy and myself, who we really are.' "'I, if some bundles could speak they might tell wonderful secrets,' returned the young man deliberately undoing the folds of another piece of coarse canvas, in order to comment the contents of the roll that lay on his knees. Though this doesn't seem to be one of that family, seeing to neither mourn or last than a sort of flag, though of what nation it passes my learning to say. That flag must have some meaning to it,' Judith hurriedly interposed, open it wider, dear Slayer, that we may see the colors. "'Well, I pitted the ensign that has to shoulder this cloth, and to parade it about on the field. Why, to his large enough Judith to make a dozen of them colors the king's officers set so much store by. These can be no ensign's colors, but a general's. A ship might carry it, dear Slayer, and the ships I know do use such things. Have you never heard any fearful stories about Thomas Hutter's having once been concerned with the people they call buccaneers?' "'Bucka near. Not I. Not I. I never heard him mentioned as good at a buck far off or nearby. Mary Harry did tell me something about its being supposed that he had formerly in some way or other dealings with certain sea robbers, but Lord Judith, it can't surely give you any satisfaction to make out that again your mother's own husband, though he isn't your father. Anything will give me satisfaction that tells me who I am, and helps to explain the dreams of childhood. My mother's husband, yes, he must have been that, though why a woman like her should have chosen a man like him, is more than mortal reason can explain. You never saw mother, dear Slayer, and can't feel the vast, vast difference there was between them. Such things do happen, however. Yes, they do happen. Though why Providence lets them come to pass is more than I understand, I've knew the fiercest warriors would the gentlest wives of any in the tribe, and awful scolds fall to the lot of engines fit to be missionaries. That was not it, dear Slayer. That was not it. Oh, if it should prove that—no, I cannot wish she should not have been his wife at all. That no daughter can wish for her own mother. Go on now, and let us see what the square-looking bundle holds. Dear Slayer complied, and he found that it contained a small trunk of pretty workmanship, but fastened. The next point was to find a key. But search-proving ineffectual it was determined to force the lock. This dear Slayer soon affected by the aid of an iron instrument, and it was found that the interior was nearly filled with papers. Many were letters, some fragments of manuscripts, memorandums, accounts, and other similar documents. The hawk does not pounce upon the chicken with a more sudden swoop than due to the spraying of forward to seize this mine of hitherto concealed knowledge. Her education, as the reader will have perceived, was far superior to her situation in life, and her eye glanced over page after page of the letters with a readiness that her schooling supplied and with an avidity that found its origin in her feelings. At first it was evident that the girl was gratified, and we may add with reason, for the letters written by females in innocence and affection were of a character to cause her to feel proud of those with whom she had every reason to think she was closely connected by the ties of blood. It does not come within the scope of our plan to give more of these epistles, however, than a general idea of their contents, and this will best be done by describing the effect they produced on the manner, appearance, and feeling of her who was so eagerly perusing them. It has been said already that Judith was much gratified with the letters that first met her eye. They contained the correspondence of an affectionate and intelligent mother to an absent daughter, with such illusions to the answers as served in a great measure to fill up the vacuum left by the replies. They were not without admonitions and warnings, however, and Judith felt the blood mounting to her temples, and a cold shudder succeeding, as she read one in which the propriety of the daughters indulging in as much intimacy as had evidently been described in one of the daughter's own letters, with an officer who came from Europe and who could hardly be supposed to wish to form an honorable connection in America, was rather coldly commented on by the mother. What rendered it singular was the fact that the signatures had been carefully cut from every one of these letters, and wherever a name occurred in the body of the epistles it had been erased with so much diligence as to render it impossible to read it. They had all been enclosed in envelopes according to the fashion of the age, and not an address either was to be found. Still the letters themselves had been religiously preserved, and Judith thought she could discover traces of tears remaining on several. She now remembered to have seen the little trunk in her mother's keeping previously to her death, and she supposed it had first been deposited in the chest, along with the other forgotten or concealed objects, when the letters could no longer contribute to that parent's grief or happiness. Next came another bundle, and these were filled with the protestations of love written with passion certainly, but also with that deceit which men so often think it justifiable to use to the other sex. Judith had shed tears abundantly over the first packet, but now she felt a sentiment of indignation and pride better sustaining her. Her hand shook, however, and cold shivers again passed through her frame, as she discovered a few points of strong resemblance between these letters, and someone had been her own fate to receive. Once indeed she laid the packet down, bowed her head to her knees, and seemed nearly convulsed. All this time dear Slayer sat a silent but attentive observer of everything that passed, as Judith read a letter she put it into his hands to hold until she could peruse the next. But this served in no degree to enlighten her companion, as he was totally unable to read. Nevertheless he was not entirely at fault in discovering the passions that were contending in the bosom of the fair creature by his side, and, as occasional sentences escaped her in murmurs, he was nearer the truth in his divinations or conjectures than the girl would have been pleased at discovering. Judith had commenced with the earliest letters, luckily for a ready comprehension of the tale they told, for they were carefully arranged in chronological order, and to anyone who would take the trouble to peruse them would have revealed a sad history of gratified passion, coldness, and finally of aversion. As she obtained the clue to their import, her impatience would not admit of delay, and she soon got to glancing her eyes over a page by way of coming at the truth in the briefest manner possible. By adopting this expedient, one to which all who are eager to arrive at results without encumbering themselves with details are so apt to resort. Judith made a rapid progress in these melancholy revelations of her mother's failing and punishment. She saw that the period of her own birth was distinctly referred to, and even learned that the homely name she bore was given her by the father, of whose person she retained so faint an impression as to resemble a dream. This name was not obliterated from the text of the letters, but stood as if nothing was to be gained by erasing it. Judy's birth was mentioned once, and in that instance the name was the mother's, but ere this period was reached came the signs of coldness, shadowing forth the desertion that was so soon to follow. It was in this stage of the correspondence that her mother had recourse to the plan of copying her own epistles. They were but few, but were eloquent with the feelings of blighted affection and contrition. Judith sobbed over them until again and again she felt compelled to lay them aside from sheer physical inability to see, her eyes being literally obscured with tears. Still she returned to the task, with increasing interest, and finally succeeded in reaching the end of the latest communication that had probably ever passed between her parents. All this occupied fully an hour, for near a hundred letters were glanced at and some twenty had been closely read. The truth now shone clear upon the acute mind of Judith, so far as her own birth and that of Hetty were concerned. She sickened at the conviction, and for the moment the rest of the world seemed to be cut off from her. And she had now additional reasons for wishing to pass the remainder of her life on the lake, where she had already seen so many bright and so many sorrowing days. There yet remained more letters to examine. Judith found these were a correspondence between her mother and Thomas Hovey. The originals of both parties were carefully arranged, letter and answer, side by side. And they told the early history of the connection between the ill-assorted pair far more plainly than Judith wished to learn it. Her mother made the advances towards the marriage to the surprise not to say horror of her daughter, and she actually found a relief when she discovered traces of what struck her as insanity, or a morbid desperation bordering on that dire calamity. In the earlier letters of that ill-fated woman. The answers of Hovey were coarse and illiterate, though they manifested a sufficient desire to obtain the hand of a woman of singular personal attractions, and whose great error he was willing to overlook for the advantage of possessing one every way so much his superior, and who had also appeared was not altogether destitute of money. The remainder of this part of the correspondence was brief, and it was soon confined to a few communications on business in which the miserable wife hastened the absent husband in his preparations to abandon a world which there was a sufficient reason to think was as dangerous to one of the parties as it was disagreeable to the other. But a sincere expression had escaped her mother by which Judith could get a clue to the motives that had induced her to marry Hovey or Hutter, and this she found was that feeling of resentment which so often tempts the injured to inflict wrongs on themselves by way of heaping coals on the heads of those through whom they have suffered. Judith had enough of the spirit of that mother to comprehend this sentiment, and for a moment did she see the exceeding folly which permitted such revengeful feelings to get the ascendancy. There what may be called the historical part of the papers ceased. Among the loose fragments, however, was an old newspaper that contained a proclamation offering a reward for the apprehension of certain freebooters by name, among which was that of Thomas Hovey. The attention of the girl was drawn to the proclamation and to this particular name by the circumstance that black lines had been drawn under both in ink. Nothing else was found among the papers that could lead to a discovery of either the name or the place of residence of the wife of Hutter. All the dates, signatures, and addresses had been cut from the letters, and wherever a word occurred in the body of the communications that might furnish a clue, it was scrupulously erased. Thus Judith found all her hopes of ascertaining who her parents were defeated, and she was obliged to fall back on her own resources and habits for everything connected with the future. Her recollection of her mother's manners, conversation, and sufferings filled up many a gap in the historical facts she had now discovered, and the truth in its outlines stood sufficiently distinct before her to take away all desire, indeed, to possess any more details. Throwing herself back in her seat, she simply desired her companion to finish the examination of the other articles in the chest as it might yet contain something of importance. I'll do it, Judith. I'll do it, return the patient, dear Slayer. But if there's many more letters to read, we shall see the sun again before you've got through with the reading of them. Two good hours have you been looking at them bits of papers. They tell me of my parents, dear Slayer, and have settled my plans for life. A girl may be excused who reads about her own father and mother, and that too for the first time in her life. I am sorry to have kept you waiting. Never mind me, gal. Never mind me. It matters little whether I sleep or watch. But though you'd be pleasant to look at, and are so handsome, Judith, it is not altogether agreeable to sit so long to behold you shedding tears. I know that tears don't kill, and that some people are better for shedding a few now and then, especially young women. But I'd rather see you smile any time, Judith, than see you weep. This gallant speech was rewarded with a sweet, though a melancholy, smile. And then the girl again desired her companion to finish the examination of the chest. The search necessarily continued some time, during which Judith collected her thoughts and regained her composure. She took no part in the search, leaving everything to the young man, looking listlessly herself at the different articles that came uppermost. Nothing further of much interest or value, however, was found. A sword or two such as were then worn by gentlemen, some buckles of silver, or so richly plated as to appear silver, and a few handsome articles of female dress composed the principal discoveries. It struck both Judith and the deerslayer, notwithstanding that some of these things might be made useful in effecting a negotiation with the Iroquois. Though the latter saw a difficulty in the way that was not so apparent to the former, the conversation was first renewed in connection with this point. And now, deerslayer, said Judith, we may talk of yourself, and of the means of getting you out of the hands of the Hurons. Any part, or all of what you have seen in the chest, will be cheerfully given by me and Hetty to set you at liberty. Well, that's generous, yes, to his downright free-hearted and free-handed. And generous. This is the way with women. When they take up a friendship, they do nothing by halves, but are as willing to part with their property as if it had no value in their eyes. However, while I thank you both just as much as if the bargain was made, and Riven Oak, or any of the other vagabonds, was here to accept and close the treaty, there's two principal reasons why it can never come to pass, which may be as well told at once in order no unlikely expectations may be raised in you or any unjustifiable hopes in me. What reason can there be if Hetty and I are willing to part with the trifles for your sake, and the savages are willing to receive them? That's it, Judith. You've got the IDs, but they're a little out of their places, as if a hound should take the backward instead of the leading scent. That the mingos will be willing to receive them things or any more like them as you have to offer is probable enough, but whether they'll pay valley for them is quite another matter. Ask yourself, Judith, if any one should send you a message to say that for such and of such a price, you and Hetty might have that chest and all it holds whether you think it worth your while to waste many words on the bargain. But this chest and all it holds are already ours. There is no reason why we should purchase what is already our own. Just so the mingos calculate, they say the chest is there already, or as good as there, and they'll not thank anybody for the key. I understand you, dear slayer. Surely we are yet in possession of the lake, and we can keep possession of it until Hurry sends troops to drive off the enemy. This we may certainly do provided you will stay with us instead of going back and giving yourself up a prisoner again, as you now seem determined on. That hurry Harry should talk, in this way, is natural, and according to the gifts of the man. He knows no better, and therefore he is little likely to feel or act any better. But Judith, I put it to your heart and conscience. Would you, could you think of me as favorably as I hope and believe you now do, was I to forget my furlough and not go back to the camp? To think more favorably of you than I now do, dear slayer, would not be easy. But I might continue to think as favorably. At least it seems so. I hope I could, for a world wouldn't tempt me to let you do anything that might change my real opinion of you. Then don't try to entice me to overlook my furlough, gal. A furlough is a sacred thing among warriors and men that carry their lives in their hands, as we of the forests do. And what a grievous disappointment would it be to old Tannamund, and to Unkas, the father of the serpent, and to my other friends in the tribe, if I was so to disgrace myself on my very first war-path. This you will perceive, moreover, Judith, is without laying any stress on natural gifts, and a white man's duties, to say nothing of conscience. The last is king with me, and I try never to dispute his orders. I believe you are right, dear slayer, returned the girl after a little reflection, and in a saddened voice. A man like you ought not to act as the selfish and dishonest would be apt to act. You must indeed go back. We will talk no more of this, then. Should I persuade you to do anything for which you would be sorry hereafter, my own regret would not be less than yours. You shall not have it to say, Judith, I scarce know by what name to call myself now. And why not? Why not, gal? Children take the names of their parents naturally and by a sort of gift-like, and why shouldn't you and Hattie do as others have done before you? Hutter was the old man's name, and Hutter should be the name of his darters, at least until you are given away in lawful and holy wedlock. I am Judith, and Judith only, returned the girl positively, until the law gives me a right to another name. Never will I use that of Thomas Hutter again, nor with my consent shall Hattie. Hutter was not even his own name, I find. But had he a thousand rights to it, it would give none to me. He was not my father, thank heaven, though I may have no reason to be proud of him that was. This is strange, said dear Slayer, looking steadily at the excited girl, anxious to know more, but unwilling to inquire into matters that did not properly concern him. Yes. This is very strange and uncommon. Thomas Hutter wasn't Thomas Hutter, and his darters weren't his darters. Who, then, could Thomas Hutter be? And who are his darters? Did you never hear anything whispered against the former life of this person, dear Slayer, demanded Judith, passing as I did for his child such reports reached even me. I'll not deny it, Judith. No, I'll not deny it. Certain things have been sad, as I've told you, but I'm not very credible as to what it is. Young as I am, I've lived long enough to learn there's two sorts of characters in the world, them that is armed by deeds and them that is armed by tongues. And so I prefer to see and judge for myself instead of letting every jaw that chooses to wag become my judgment. Harry Harry spoke pretty plainly of the whole family, as we journeyed this away. And he did hint something concerning Thomas Hutter's having been a free-liver on the water, in his younger days, by free-liver, I mean that he made free to live on other man's goods. He told you he was a pirate, there's no need of mincing matters between friends. Read that, dear Slayer, and you will see that he told you no more than the truth. This Thomas Hovey was the Thomas Hutter you knew, as is seen by these letters. As Judith spoke with a flushed cheek and eyes dazzling with the brilliancy of excitement, she held the newspaper towards her companion, pointing to the proclamation of a colonial governor already mentioned. "'Bless you, Judith!' answered the other, laughing. "'You might as well ask me to print that, or for that matter to write it. My education has been altogether in the woods. The only book I read or care about reading is the one which God has opened before all his creatures in the noble forests, broad lakes, rolling rivers, blue skies, and the winds and tempests and sunshine, and other glorious marvels of the land. This book I can read, and I find it full of wisdom and knowledge.' "'I crave your pardon, dear Slayer,' said Judith, earnestly, more abashed than was her want, in finding that she had inadvertently made an appeal that might wound her companion's pride. I had forgotten your manner of life, and least of all did I wish to hurt your feelings.' "'Hurt my feelings? Why should it hurt my feelings to ask me to read? When I can't read. I'm a hunter, and I may now begin to say a warrior, and no missionary, and therefore books and papers are of no account with such as I. No, no, Judith!' And here the young man laughed cordially, not even for wads, seeing that your true dear killer always uses the hide of a fawn if he's got one, or some other bit of leather suitably prepared. There's some that do say, all that stands in print is true, in which case I'll own an unlearned man must be somewhat of a loser. Nevertheless it can't be truer than that which God has printed with his own hand in the sky, and the woods, and the rivers, and the springs. Well, then, hotter or hubby was a pirate, and being no father of mine I cannot wish to call him one. His name shall no longer be my name.' "'If you dislike the name of that man, there's the name of your mother, Judith. Herne may serve you just as good a turn.' "'I do not know it. I've looked through those papers, dear Slayer, in the hope of finding some hint by which I might discover who my mother was. But there is no more trace of the past, in that respect, than the bird leaves in the air.' "'That's both uncommon and unreasonable. Parents are bound to give their offspring a name, even though they give them nothing else. Now I come of a humble stock, though we have white gifts and a white nature, but we are not so poorly office to have no name. Bumple we are called, and I've heard it said, a touch of human vanity glowing on his cheek, that the time has been when the Bumples had more standing in note among mankind than they have just now. They never deserved them more, dear Slayer, and the name is a good one. Either Hetty or myself would a thousand times rather be called Hetty Bumple, or Judith Bumple, than to be called Hetty or Judith Hutter. "'That's a moral impossible,' returned the hunter good humbly, unless one of you should so far demean herself as to marry me.' Judith could not refrain from smiling, when she found how simply and naturally the conversation had come round to the very point at which she had aimed to bring it. Although far from unfeminine or forward, either in her feelings or her habits, the girl was goaded by a sense of wrongs not altogether merited, incited by the hopelessness of a future that seemed to contain no resting place, and still more influenced by feelings that were as novel to her as they proved to be active and engrossing. The opening was too good, therefore, to be neglected, though she came to the subject with much of the indirectness and perhaps unjustifiable address of a woman. "'I do not think Hetty will ever marry,' dear Slayer, she said, "'and if your name is to be borne by either of us it must be borne by me. There's been handsome women, too, they tell me, among the bumpos, Judith, afore now. And should you take up with the name, uncommon as you be in this particular? Then that knows the family won't be altogether surprised." This is not talking as becomes either of a steer Slayer, for whatever is said on such a subject between man and woman should be said seriously and in sincerity of heart. Forgetting the shame that ought to keep girls silent until spoken to, in most cases, I will deal with you as frankly as I know one of your generous nature will most like to be dealt by. Can you, do you think, dear Slayer, that you could be happy with such a wife as a woman like myself would make? A woman like you, Judith. But where is the sense in trifling about such a thing? A woman like you that is handsome enough to be a captain's lady, and fine enough and so far as I know educated enough would be little apt to think of becoming my wife. I suppose young girls that feel themselves to be smart and know themselves to be handsome find a certain satisfaction in passing their jokes again them that's neither, like a poor Delaware hunter. This was said good-naturedly, but not without a betrayal of feeling which showed that something like mortified sensibility was blended with the reply. Nothing could have occurred more likely to awaken all Judith's generous regrets, or to aid her in her purpose by adding the stimulant of a disinterested desire to atone to her other impulses, and cloaking all under a guise so winning and natural as greatly to lessen the unpleasant feature of a forwardness unbecoming of the sex. You do me injustice if you suppose I have any such thought or wish, she answered earnestly, never was I more serious in my life, or more willing to abide by any agreement that we may make tonight. I have had many suitors, dear Slayer. Nay, scarce and unmarried trapper or hunter has been in at the lake these four years, who has not offered to take me away with him, and I fear some that we're married, too. Aye, I'll warrant that, interrupted the other. I'll warrant all that. Take him as a body, Judith. Arth don't hold a set of bend more given to their selves, unless given to God in the law. Not one of them would I could I listen to. Happily for myself perhaps it has been that such was the case. There have been well-looking youths among them, too, as you may have seen in your acquaintance, Henry March. Yes, Harry is sightly to the eye, though to my IDs less so to the judgment. I thought at first you meant to have him, Judith, I did. But before he went it was easy enough to verify that the same lodge wouldn't be big enough for you both. You have done me justice in that, at least, dear Slayer. Hurry is a man I could never marry. Though he were ten times more comely to the eye, and a hundred times more stout of heart than he really is. Why not, Judith? Why not? I own I'm curious to know why a youth like Harry shouldn't find favor with a maiden like you. Then you shall know, dear Slayer, return the girl gladly availing herself of the opportunity of directly extolling the qualities which had so strongly interested her in her listener, hoping by these means covertly to approach the subject nearest her heart. In the first place, looks in a man are of no importance with a woman, provided he is manly, and not disfigured or deformed. There I can't altogether agree with you, returned the other thoughtfully, for he had a very humble opinion of his own personal appearance. I have noticed that the comliest warriors commonly get the best-looking maidens of the tribe for wives, and the serpent Yonder, who is sometimes wonderful in his paint, is a general favorite with all the Delaware young women, though he takes to hisst himself, as if she was the only beauty on earth. It may be so with Indians, but it is different with white girls, so long as a young man has a straight and manly frame that promises to make him able to protect a woman, and to keep want from the door, it is all they ask of the figure. Giants like hurry may do for grenadiers, but are a little account as lovers. Then as to the face, an honest look, one that answers for the heart within, is of more value than any shape or color, or eyes, or teeth, or trifles like them. The last may do for girls, but who thinks of them at all, in a hunter, or a warrior, or a husband? If there are women so silly, Judith is not among them. Well, this is wonderful. I always thought that handsome liked handsome, as riches love riches. It may be so with you men, dear slayer, but it is not always so with us women. We like stout-hearted men, but we wish to see them modest, sure on a hunt or the war-path ready to die for the right and unwilling to yield to the wrong. Above all we wish for honesty, tongues that are not used to say what the mind does not mean, and hearts that feel a little for others as well as for themselves. A true-hearted girl could die for such a husband, while the boaster and the double-tongued suitor gets to be as hateful to the sight as he is to the mind. Judith spoke bitterly, and with her usual force, but her listener was too much struck with the novelty of the sensations he experienced to advert to her manner. There was something so soothing to the humility of a man of his temperament to hear qualities that he could not but know he possessed himself. Thus highly extolled by the loveliest female he had ever beheld, that for the moment his faculties seemed suspended in a natural and excusable pride. Then it was that the idea of a possibility of such a creature as Judith becoming his companion for life first crossed his mind. The image was so pleasant and so novel that he continued completely absorbed by it for more than a minute, totally regardless of the beautiful reality that was seated before him, watching the expression of his upright and truth-telling countenance with a keenness that gave her a very fair, if not an absolutely accurate clue to his thoughts. Never before had so pleasing a vision floated before the mind's eye of the young hunter, but accustomed most to practical things and little addicted to submitting to the power of his imagination, even while possessed of so much true poetical feeling in connection with natural objects in particular, he soon recovered his reason, and smiled at his own weakness, as the fancy picture faded from his mental sight, and left him the simple untaught but highly moral being he was, seated in the Ark of Thomas Hutter at midnight, with the lovely countenance of its late owner's reputed daughter, beaming on him with anxious scrutiny by the light of the solitary lamp. Your wonderful, handsome and enticing and pleasing to look on, Judith, he exclaimed in his simplicity, as fact resumed its ascendancy over fancy. Wonderful! I don't remember ever to have seen so beautiful a gal, even among the Delaware's, and I'm not astonished that Harry Harry went away soured as well as disappointed. Would you have had me, dear Slayer, become the wife of such a man as Henry March? There's that which is in his favour, and there's that which is again him. To my taste, Harry wouldn't make the best of husbands, but I fear that the tastes of most young women, hereaway, wouldn't be so hard upon him. No, no, Judith without a name would never consent to be called Judith March. Anything would be better than that. Judith Bumple wouldn't sound as well, gal, and there's many names that would fall short of March in pleasing the ear. Ah, dear Slayer, the pleasantness of the sound in such cases doesn't come through the ear, but through the heart. Everything is agreeable when the heart is satisfied. Were Natty Bumple, Henry March, and Henry March, Natty Bumple? I might think the name of March better than it is. Or were he, you, I should fancy the name of Bumple Horrible? That's just it, yes. That's the reason of the matter. Now I'm naturally averse to serpents, and I hate even the word which the missionaries tell me comes from human nature, on account of a certain serpent at the creation of the earth, that outwitted the first woman. Yet ever since Chingochuk has earned the title he bears, why the sound is as pleasant to my ears as the whistle of the whipper-well of a calm evening, it is. The feelings make all the difference in the world, Judith, in the nature of sounds. I, even in that of looks, too. This is so true, dear Slayer, that I am surprised you should think it remarkable in a girl who may have some comeliness herself should not think it necessary that her husband should have the same advantage, or what you fancy an advantage. To me, looks in a man as nothing provided his countenance is as honest as his heart. Yes, honesty is a great advantage in the long run, and they that are the most apt to forget it in the beginning are the most apt to learn it in the end. Nevertheless there's more Judith that look to present profit than to the benefit that is to come after a time. One they think a certainty, and the other an uncertainty. I'm glad, however, that you look at the thing in its true light, and not in the way in which so many is apt to deceive themselves. I do thus look at it, dear Slayer, return the girl with emphasis still shrinking with a woman's sensitiveness from a direct offer of her hand, and can say from the bottom of my heart that I would rather trust my happiness to a man whose truth and feelings may be depended on than to a false-tongued and false-hearted wretch that had chests of gold and houses and lands, yes, though he were even seated on a throne. These are brave words, Judith, they're downright brave words. But do you think that the feelings would keep him company did the chice actually lie for you? If a gay gallant in a scarlet coat stood on one side with his head smelling like a deer's foot, his face smooth and blooming as your own, his hands as white and soft as if God hadn't bestowed on him that man might live by the sweat of his brow, and his step as lofty as dancing teachers and a light heart could make it, and the other side stood as one that has passed his days in the open air till his forehead is as red as his cheek, had cut his way through swamps and bushes till his hand was as rugged as the oaks he slept under, had trodden on the scent of game till his step was as stealthy as the catamounts, and had no other pleasant odor about him than such as nature gives in the free air in the forest? Now if both these men stood here as suitors for your feelings, which do you think would win your favour? Judith's fine face flushed, for the picture that her companion had so simply drawn of a gay officer of the garrisons had once been particularly grateful to her imagination, though experience and disappointment had not only chilled all her affections but given them a backward current and the passing image had a momentary influence on her feelings, but the mounting colour was succeeded by a paleness so deadly as to make her appear ghastly. As God is my judge, the girl solemnly answered, did both these men stand before me, as I may say one of them does, my choice if I know my own heart would be the latter. I have no wish for a husband who is any way better than myself. This is pleasant to listen to and might lead a young man in time to forget his own unworthiness, Judith. However, you hardly think all that you say. A man like me is too rude and ignorant for one that has had such a mother to teach her. Vanity is natural, I do believe, but vanity like that would surpass reason. Then you do not know if what a woman's heart is capable. Rude you are not, dear Slayer, nor can one be called ignorant that has studied what is before his eyes, as closely as you have done. When the affections are concerned all things appear in their pleasantest colors, and trifles are overlooked or are forgotten. When the heart feels sunshine nothing is gloomy, even dull looking objects seeming gay and bright. And so it would be between you and the woman who should love you, even though your wife might happen in some matters to possess what the world calls the advantage over you. Judith you come of people altogether above mine, in the world, and unequal matches like unequal friendships can't often terminate kindly. I speak of this matter altogether as a fanciful thing, since it's not very likely that you, at least, would be apt to treat it as a matter that can ever come to pass. Judith fastened her deep blue eyes on the open frank countenance of her companion, as if she would read his soul. Nothing there betrayed any covert meaning, and she was obliged to admit to herself that he regarded the conversation as argumentative rather than positive, and that he was still without any active suspicion that her feelings were seriously involved in the issue. At first she felt offended, then she saw the injustice of making the self-abasement and modesty of the hunter a charge against him, and this novel difficulty gave a pecancy to the state of affairs that rather increased her interest in the young man. At that critical instant a change of plan flashed on her mind, and with a readiness of invention that is peculiar to the quick-witted and ingenious she adopted a scheme by which she hoped effectually to bind him to her person. This scheme partook equally of her fertility of invention, and of the decision and boldness of her character. That the conversation might not terminate too abruptly, however, or any suspicion of her design exist she answered the last remark of Dear Slayer as earnestly and as truly as if her original intention remained unaltered. I certainly have no reason to boast of parentage. After what I have seen this night, said the girl, in a saddened voice, I had a mother, it is true, but of her name even I am ignorant. And as for my father it is better perhaps that I should never know who he was, lest I speak too bitterly of him. Judith, said Dear Slayer, taking her hand kindly, and with a manly sincerity that went directly to the girl's heart, it is better to say no more to-night, sleep on what you have seen and felt. In the morning things that now look gloomy may look more cheerful. Above all, never do anything in bitterness, or because you feel as if you'd like to take revenge on yourself for other people's backslidings. All that has been said or done a tweenest this night is your secret, and shall never be talked of by me, even with a serpent. And you may be certain, if he can't get it out of me no man can. If your parents have been faulty, let the doctor be less so. Remember that you're young, and the youthful may always hope for better times. That you're more quick-witted than usual, and such generally get the better of difficulties, and that as for beauty you're uncommon, which is an advantage with all. It is time to get a little rest, for to-morrow is like to prove a trying day to some of us. Dear Slayer arose as he spoke, and Judith had no choice but to comply. The chest was closed and secured, and they parted in silence, she to take her place by the side of his tent at he, and he to seek a blanket on the floor of the cabin he was in. It was not five minutes ere the young man was in a deep sleep, but the girl continued awake for a long time. She scarce knew whether to lament or to rejoice, and having failed in making herself understood. On the one hand were her womanly sensibilities spared. On the other was the disappointment of defeated or at least delayed expectations, and the uncertainty of a future that looked so dark. Then came the new resolution, and the bold project for the moral, and when drowsiness finally shut her eyes they closed on a scene of success and happiness that was pictured by the fancy under the influence of a sanguine temperament and a happy invention.