 CHAPTER XXXIII So demist thou, so each mortal deems of that which is from that which seems, but other harvests here than that which peasants scythe demands was gathered in by sterner hands, with bayonet, blade, and spear. Scott. The Field of Waterloo. 5. 1-6 It exceeded Dearslayer's power to ascertain what had produced the sudden pause in the movements of his enemies, until the fact was revealed in the due course of events. He perceived that much agitation prevailed among the women in particular, while the warriors rested on their arms in a sort of dignified expectation. It was plain no alarm was excited, though it was not equally apparent that a friendly occurrence produced the delay. Rivenoke was evidently apprised of all, and by a gesture of his arm he appeared to direct the circle to remain unbroken, and for each person to await the issue in the situation he or she then occupied. It required but a minute or two to bring the explanation of this singular and mysterious pause, which was soon terminated by the appearance of Judith on the exterior of the line of bodies, and her ready admission within its circle. If Dearslayer was startled by this unexpected arrival, well-knowing that the quick-witted girl could claim none of the exemption from the penalties of captivity that was so cheerfully accorded to her feebler minded sister, all her ordinary forest attire neat and becoming as this usually was, had been laid aside for the brocade that has been already mentioned, and which had once before wrought so great and magical in effect in her appearance. Nor was this all, accustomed to see the ladies of the garrison in the formal gala attire of the day, and familiar with the more critical niceties of these matters, the girl had managed to complete her dress in a way to leave nothing strikingly defective in its details, or even to betray an incongruity that would have been detected by one practiced in the mysteries of the toilet. Head, feet, arms, hands, bust, and drapery were all in harmony as female attire was then deemed attractive and harmonious, and the end she aimed at, that of imposing on the uninstructed senses of the savages by causing them to believe their guest was a woman of rank and importance, might well have succeeded with those whose habits had taught them to discriminate between persons. Judith, in addition to her rare native beauty, had a singular grace of person, and her mother had imparted enough of her own deportment to prevent any striking or offensive vulgarity of manner. So that sooth to say, the gorgeous dress might have been worse bestowed in nearly every particular. Had it been displayed in a capital a thousand might have worn it before one could have been found to do more credit to its gay colors, glossy satins, and rich laces than the beautiful creature whose person it now aided to adorn. The effect of such an apparition had not been miscalculated. The instant Judith found herself within the circle she was in a degree compensated for the fearful personal risks she ran by the unequivocal sensation of surprise and admiration produced by her appearance. The grim old warriors uttered their favorite exclamation, the younger men were still more sensibly overcome, and even the women were not backward in letting open manifestations of pleasure escape them. It was seldom that these untutored children of the forest had ever seen any white female above the commonest sort, and as to dress never before had so much splendor shown before their eyes. The gayest uniforms of both French and English seemed dull compared with the luster of the brocade, and while the rare personal beauty of the wearer added to the effect produced by its hues the attire did not fail to adorn that beauty in a way which surpassed even the hopes of its wearer. Dear Slayer himself was astounded, and this quite as much by the brilliant picture the girl presented as that the indifference to consequences with which she had braved the danger of the steps she had taken. Under such circumstances all waited for the visitor to explain her object, which to most of the spectators seemed as inexplicable as her appearance. Which of these warriors is the principal chief demanded Judith of Dear Slayer as soon as she found it was expected that she should open the communications? My errand is too important to be delivered to any of inferior rank. First explain to the Hurons what I say, then give an answer to the question I have put. Dear Slayer quietly complied, his auditors greedily listening to the interpretation of the first words that fell from so extraordinary a vision. The demand seemed perfectly in character for one who had every appearance of an exalted rank, herself. Riveno gave an appropriate reply by presenting himself before his fair visitor in a way to leave no doubt that he was entitled to all the consideration he claimed. I can believe this, Huron, resumed Judith, enacting her assumed part with a steadiness and dignity that did credit to her powers of imitation, for she strove to impart to her manner the condescending courtesy she had once observed in the wife of a general officer, and a similar though a more amicable scene. I can believe you to be the principal person of this party. I see in your countenance the marks of thought and reflection. To you, then, I must make my communication. Let the flower of the woods speak, returned the old chief courteously, as soon as her address had been translated so that all might understand it. If her words are as pleasant as her looks, they will never quit my ears. I shall hear them long after the winter of Canada has killed all the flowers, and frozen all the speeches of summer. This admiration was grateful to one constituted like Judith, and contributed to aid herself possession quite as much as it fed her vanity. Smiling involuntarily, or in spite of her wish to seem reserved, she proceeded in her plot. Now, Huron, she continued, listen to my words. Your eyes tell you that I am no common woman. I will not say I am queen of this country. She is far off in a distant land. But under our gracious monarchs there are many degrees of rank. One of these I fill. What that rank is, precisely, it is unnecessary for me to say, since you would not understand it. For that information you must trust your eyes. You see what I am. You must feel that in listening to my words you listen to one who can be your friend or your enemy as you treat her. This was well uttered, with a due attention to manner and a steadiness of tone that was really surprising, considering all the circumstances of the case. It was well, though simply rendered into the Indian dialect, too, and it was received with respect and gravity that augured favorably for the girl's success. But Indian thought is not easily traced to its sources. Judith waited with anxiety to hear the answer, filled with hope even while she doubted. Riven oak was a ready speaker, and he answered her as promptly as comported with the notions of Indian decorum. That particular people seeming to think a short delay respectful in as much as it manifests that the words already heard have been duly weighed. My daughter is handsomer than the wild roses of Ontario. Her voice is pleasant to the ear as the song of the wren answered the cautious and wily chief, who of all the bands stood alone in that being fully imposed on by the magnificent and unusual appearance of Judith, but who distrusted even while he wondered. The humming bird is not much larger than the bee. Yet its feathers are as gay as the tail of the peacock. The great spirit sometimes puts very bright clothes on very little animals. Still he covers the moose with coarse hair. These things are beyond the understanding of poor Indians who can only comprehend what they see and hear. No doubt my daughter has a very large wigwam somewhere about the lake. The urans have not found it, on account of their ignorance. I have told you, chief, that it would be useless to state my rank and residence in as much as you would not comprehend them. You must trust it to your eyes for this knowledge. What red man is there who cannot see? This blanket that I wear is not the blanket of a common squaw. These ornaments are such as the wives and daughters of chiefs only appear in. Now listen and hear why I have come alone among your people, and hearken to the errand that has brought me here. The youngies have young men as well as the urans, and plenty of them too. This you well know. The youngies are as plenty as the leaves on the trees. This every huran knows and feels. I understand you, chief. Had I brought a party with me it might have caused trouble. My young men and your young men would have looked angrily at each other. Especially had my young men seen that pale face bound for the torture. He is a great hunter, and is much loved by all the garrisons, far and near. There would have been blows about him, and the trail of the Iroquois back to the Canadas would have been marked with blood. There is so much blood on it now, return the chief gloomily, that it blinds our eyes. My young men see that it is all huran. No doubt. And more huran blood would be spelt had I come surrounded with pale faces. I have heard of Riven oak, and have thought it would be better to send him back in peace to his village, that he might leave his women and children behind him. If he then wished to come for our scalps we would meet him. He loves animals made of ivory, and little rifles. See, I have brought some with me to show him. I am his friend. When he has packed up these things among his goods he will start for his village before any of my young men can overtake him. And then he will show his people in Canada what riches they can come to seek, now that our greatfathers across the Salt Lake have sent each other the war hatchet. I will lead back with me this great hunter, of whom I have need to keep my house in venison. Judith, who was sufficiently familiar with Indian phraseology, endeavored to express her ideas in the sententious manner common to those people, and she succeeded even beyond her own expectations. Dear Slayer did her full justice in the translation, and this so much the more readily since the girl carefully abstained from uttering any direct untruth. A homage she paid to the young man's known aversion to falsehood, which he deemed a meanness altogether unworthy of a white man's gifts. The offering of the two remaining elephants, and of the pistols already mentioned, one of which was all the worst for the recent accident, produced a lively sensation among the Hurons, generally, though Rivenoch received it coldly notwithstanding the delight with which he had first discovered the provable existence of a creature with two tails. In a word this cool and sagacious savage was not so easily imposed on as his followers, and with a sentiment of honour that half the civilized world would have deemed super-irrogatory, he declined the acceptance of a bribe that he felt no disposition to earn by a compliance with a donor's wishes. Let my daughter keep her two-tailed hog to eat when venison is scarce, he dryly answered, and the little gun which has two muzzles. The Hurons will kill dear when they are hungry, and they have long rifles to fight with. This hunter cannot quit my young man now. They wish to know if he is as stout-hearted as he boasts himself to be. That I deny, Huron, interrupted dear Slayer with warmth. Yes, that I downright deny, as again truth and reason. No man has heard me boast, and no man shall, though you flame me alive, and then roast the quivering flesh with your own infernal devices and cruelties. I may be humble and misfortunate, and your prisoner, but I am no boaster by my very gifts. My young pale face boasts he is no boaster, return the crafty chief. He must be right. I hear a strange bird singing. It has very rich feathers. No Huron ever before saw such feathers. They will be ashamed to go back to their village and tell their people that they let their prisoner go on account of the song of this strange bird, and not be able to give the name of the bird. They do not know how to say whether it is a wren or a cat-bird. This would be a great disgrace. My young men would not be allowed to travel in the woods without taking their mothers with them, to tell them the names of the birds. You can ask my name of your prisoner, return the girl. It is Judith, and there is a great deal of the history of Judith in the pale face's best book, The Bible. If I am a bird of fine feathers, I have also my name. No, answered the Wiley Huron, betraying the artifice he had so long practiced, by speaking in English with tolerable accuracy. I not ask prisoner. He tired. He won't rest. I ask my daughter, with feeble mind, she speak truth. Come here, daughter. You answer. Your name, Hetty? Yes, that's what they call me, return the girl, though it's written Esther in the Bible. She write him in Bible, too. All write in Bible, no matter. What her name? That's Judith, and it's so written in the Bible, though father sometimes called her Jude. That's my sister Judith, Thomas Hutter's daughter, Thomas Hutter, whom you called the muskrat. Though he was no muskrat, but a man like yourselves, he lived in a house on the water, and that was enough for you. A smile of triumph gleamed on the hard wrinkled countenance of the chief, when he found how completely his appeal to the truth-loving Hetty had succeeded. As for Judith herself, the moment her sister was questioned, she saw that all was lost. For no sign, or even entreaty, could have induced the right-feeling girl to utter a falsehood. To attempt to impose a daughter of the muskrat on the savages as a princess, or a great lady, she knew would be idle, and she saw her bold and ingenious expedient for liberating the captive fail, through one of the simplest and most natural causes that could be imagined. She turned her eye on dear Slayer, therefore, as if imploring him to interfere to save them both. It will not do, Judith, said the young man, in answer to this appeal which he understood, though he saw its uselessness. It will not do. It was a bold idea and fit for a general's lady. But Yonder Mingo, Rivenok had withdrawn to a little distance and was out of earshot. But Yonder Mingo is an uncommon man, and not to be deceived by any unnatural circumvention. Things must come affore him in their right order, to draw a cloud affore his eyes. It was too much to attempt making him fancy that a queen or a great lady lived in these mountains, and no doubt he thinks the fine clothes you wear is some of the plunder of your own father, or at least of him who once passed for your father. As quite likely it was, if all they say is true. At all events, dear Slayer, my presence here will save you for a time. They will hardly attempt torturing you before my face. Why not, Judith? Do you think they will treat a woman of the pale faces more tenderly than they treat their own? It's true that your sex will most likely save you from the torments, but it will not save your liberty, and may not save your scalp. I wish you had not come, my good Judith. It can do no good to me, while it may do great harm to yourself. I can share your fate, the girl answered with generous enthusiasm. They shall not injure you while I stand by, if in my power to prevent it. Besides... Besides what, Judith? What means have you to stop engine cruelties, or to avert engine deviltries? None perhaps, dear Slayer answered the girl with firmness, but I can suffer with my friends. Die with them, if necessary. Ah, Judith, suffer you may, but die you will not, until the Lord's time shall come. It's little most likely that one of your sex and beauty will meet with a harder fate than to become the wife of a chief, if indeed your white inclinations can stoop to match with an engine. It would have been better had you stayed in the arc, or the castle, but what has been done is done. You was about to say something when you stopped at besides. It might not be safe to mention it here, dear Slayer, the girl hurriedly answered, moving past him carelessly that she might speak in a lower tone. Half an hour is all in all to us, none of your friends are idle. The hunter replied merely by a grateful look. Then he turned towards his enemies as if ready again to face their torments. A short consultation had passed among the elders of the band, and by this time they also were prepared with their decision. The merciful purpose of Rivenoke had been much weakened by the Artifice of Judith, which failing of its real object was likely to produce results the very opposite of those she had anticipated. This was natural, the feeling being aided by the resentment of an Indian who found how near he had been to becoming the dupe of an inexperienced girl. By this time Judith's real character was fully understood. The widespread reputation of her beauty contributing to the exposure. As for the unusual attire, it was confounded with the profound mystery of the animals with two tails, and for the moment lost its influence. When Rivenoke, therefore, faced the captive again, it was with an altered countenance. He had abandoned the wish of saving him, and was no longer disposed to retard the more serious part of the torture. This change of sentiment was in effect communicated to the young men, who were already eagerly engaged in making their preparations for the contemplated scene. Fragments of dried wood were rapidly collected near the sapling, the splinters which it was intended to thrust into the flesh of the victim, previously to lighting, were all collected, and the thongs were already produced that were again to bind him to the tree. All this was done in profound silence, Judith watching every movement with breathless expectation, while Dear Slayer himself stood seemingly as unmoved as one of the pines of the hills. When the warriors advanced to bind him, however, the young man glanced at Judith as if to inquire whether resistance or submission were most advisable. By a significant gesture she counseled the last, and in a minute he was once more fastened to the tree, a helpless object of any insult or wrong that might be offered. So eagerly did everyone now act that nothing was said, the fire was immediately lighted in the pile, and the end of all was anxiously expected. It was not the intention of the Hurons absolutely to destroy the life of their victim by means of fire. They designed merely to put his physical fortitude to the severest proofs it could endure, short of that extremity. In the end they fully intended to carry his scalp with them into their village, but it was their wish first to break down his resolution, and to reduce him to the level of a complaining sufferer. With this view the pile of brush and branches had been placed at a proper distance, or one at which it was thought the heat would soon become intolerable, though it might not be immediately dangerous. As often happened, however, on these occasions this distance had been miscalculated, and the flames began to wave their forked tongues in a proximity to the face of the victim that would have proved fatal in another instant. Had not Hetty rushed through the crowd, armed with a stick, and scattered the blazing pile in a dozen directions. More than one hand was raised to strike this presumptuous intruder to the earth, but the chiefs prevented the blows by reminding their irritated followers of the state of her mind. Hetty herself was insensible to the risks she ran, but as soon as she had performed this bold act she stood looking about her in frowning resentment as if to rebuke the crowd of attentive savages for their cruelty. God bless you, dearest sister, for that brave and ready act, murmured Judith, herself unnerved so much as to be incapable of exertion. Heaven itself has sent you on its holy errand. To us well meant, Judith, rejoined the victim, to us excellently meant, and to us timely, though it may prove untimely in the end. What is to come to pass must come to pass soon, or to a quickly be too late. Had I drawn in one mouthful of that flame in breathing the power of man could not save my life, and you see that this time they've so bound my forehead as not to leave my head the smallest chance. To us well meant, but it might have been more merciful to let the flames act their part. Cruel heartless Hurons exclaimed the still indignant Hetty, would you burn a man, and a Christian, as you would burn a log of wood? Do you never read your Bible? Or do you think God will forget such things? A gesture from Riveno caused the scattered brands to be collected. Fresh wood was brought, even the women and children busying themselves eagerly in the gathering of dried sticks. The flame was just kindling a second time when an Indian female pushed through the circle, advanced to the heap, and with their foot dashed aside the lighted twigs in time to prevent the conflagration. A yell followed this second disappointment, but when the offender turned towards the circle and presented the countenance of HIST, it was succeeded by a common exclamation of pleasure and surprise. For a minute all thought of pursuing the business in hand was forgotten. Young and old crowded around the girl, in haste to demand an explanation of her sudden and unlooked-for return. It was at this critical instant that HIST spoke to Judith, in a low voice, placed some small object unseen in her hand, and then turned to meet the salutations of the Huron girls, with whom she was personally a great favorite. Judith recovered herself possession and acted promptly. The small keen-edged knife that HIST had given to the other was passed by the latter into the hands of Hattie, as the safest and least suspected medium of transferring it to Deerslayer. But the feeble intellect of the last defeated the well-grounded hopes of all three. Instead of first cutting loose the hands of the victim, and then concealing the knife in his clothes, in readiness for action at the most available instant, she went to work herself with earnestness and simplicity to cut the thongs that bound his head, that he might not again be in danger of inhaling flames. Of course this deliberate procedure was seen, and the hands of Hattie were arrested ere she had more than liberated the upper portion of the captive's body, not including his arms below the elbows. This discovery at once pointed distrust towards HIST, and to Judith's surprise, when questioned on the subject, that spirited girl was not disposed to deny her agency in what had passed. Why should I not help the Deerslayer, the girl demanded in the tones of a firm-minded woman? He is the brother of a Delaware chief. My heart is all Delaware. Come forth, miserable Briarthorn, and wash the Iroquois paint from your face. Stand before the Hurons the crow that you are. You would eat the carrion of your own dead rather than starve. Put him face to face with Deerslayer, chiefs and warriors. I will show you how great a nave you have been keeping in your tribe. This bold language uttered in their own dialect with a manner full of confidence produced a deep sensation among the Hurons. Treachery is always liable to distrust, and though the requriant Briarthorn had endeavored to serve the enemy well, his exertions and assiduities had gained for him little more than toleration. His wish to obtain HIST for a wife had first induced him to betray her, and his own people. But serious rivals to his first project had risen up among his new friends, weakening still more their sympathies with treason. In a word, Briarthorn had been barely permitted to remain in the Huron encampment, for he was as closely and as jealously watched as HIST herself, seldom appearing before the chiefs, and seduously keeping out of view of Deerslayer, who until this moment was ignorant even of his presence. Thus summoned, however, it was impossible to remain in the background. Washed the Iroquois paint from his face he did not, for when he stood in the center of the circle he was so disguised in these new colors, that at first the hunter did not recognize him. He assumed an air of defiance, not withstanding, and hotly demanded what any could say against Briarthorn. Ask yourself that, continued HIST with spirit, though her manner grew less concentrated, and there was a slight air of abstraction that became observable to Deerslayer and Judith, if to no others. Ask that of your own heart, sneaking woodchuck of the Delaware's. Come not here with the face of an innocent man. Go look into the ring, see the colors of your enemies on your lying skin, then come back and boast how you run from your tribe and took the blanket of the French for your covering. Paint yourself as bright as the hummingbird, you will still be black as the crow. HIST had been so uniformly gentle, while living with the Hurons, that they now listened to her language with surprise, as for the delinquent his blood boiled in his veins, and it was well for the pretty speaker that it was not in his power to execute the revenge he burned to inflict on her, in spite of his pretended love. Who wishes Briarthorn, he sternly asked. If this pale face is tired of life, if afraid of Indian torments, speak Rivenoke, I will send him after the warriors we have lost. No chiefs, no Rivenoke, eagerly interrupted HIST. Deerslayer fears nothing, least of all a crow, unbind him, cut his wives, place him face to face with this calling bird, then let us see which is tired of life. HIST made a forward movement, as if to take a knife from a young man and perform the office she had mentioned in person. But an aged warrior interposed at a sign from Rivenoke. This chief watched all the girl did with distrust, for, even while speaking in her most full language, and in the steadiest manner, there was an air of uncertainty and expectation about her that could not escape so close an observer. She acted well, but two or three of the old men were equally satisfied that it was merely acting. Her proposal to release Deerslayer therefore was rejected, and the disappointed HIST found herself driven back from the sapling. At the very moment she fancied herself about to be successful. At the same time the circle which had got to be crowded and confused was enlarged and brought once more into order. Rivenoke now announced the intention of the old men again to proceed, the delay having continued long enough and leading to no result. Stop, Huron! Stay, chiefs! exclaimed Judith, scarce knowing what she said or why she interposed, unless to obtain time. For God's sake, a single minute longer! The words were cut short by another and a still more extraordinary interruption. A young Indian came bounding through the Huron ranks, leaping into the very center of the circle in a way to denote the utmost confidence or a temerity bordering on foolhardiness. Five or six sentinels were still watching the lake at different and distant points, and it was the first impression of Rivenoke that one of these had come in with tidings of import. Still the movements of the stranger were so rapid, and his ward-dress, which scarcely left him more drapery than an antique statue, had so little distinguishing about it that at the first moment it was impossible to ascertain whether he were friend or foe. Three leaps carried this warrior to the side of Deer Slayer, whose wives were cut in the twinkling of an eye with a quickness and precision that left the prisoner perfect master of his limbs. Not till this was affected did the stranger bestow a glance on any other object, then he turned and showed the astonished Hurons the noble brow, fine person and eagle eye of a young warrior in the paint and panoply of a Delaware. He held a rifle in each hand, the butts of both resting on the earth, while from one dangled its proper pouch and horn. This was kill-deer, which even as he looked boldly in defiance at the crowd around him he suffered to fall back into the hands of its proper owner. The presence of two armed men, though it was in their midst, startled the Hurons. Their rifles were scattered about against the different trees, and their only weapons were their knives and tomahawks. Still they had too much self-possession to betray fear. It was little likely that so small a force would assail so strong a band, and each man expected some extraordinary proposition to succeed so decisive a step. The stranger did not seem disposed to disappoint them. He prepared to speak. Hurons, he said, this earth is very big. The great lakes are big, too. There is room beyond them for the Iroquois. There was room for the Delaware's on this side. I am Chingich Kuk, the son of Ukes, the kinsman of Tamanund. This is my betrothed. That pale face is my friend. My heart was heavy when I missed him. I followed him to your camp, to see that no harm happened to him. All the Delaware girls are waiting for a while. They wonder that she stays away so long. Come, let us save her while, and go on our path. Hurons, this is your mortal enemy, the great serpent of them you hate, cried Briar-thorn. If he escape, blood will be in your moccasin prints, from this spot to the Canada's. I am all Huron. As the last words were uttered the traitor cast his knife at the naked breast of the Delaware, a quick movement of the arm on the part of HIST, who stood near, turned aside the blow, the dangerous weapon bearing its point in a pine. At the next instant a similar weapon glanced from the hand of the serpent, and quivered in the requerient's heart. A minute had scarcely elapsed, from the moment in which Chingochkoot bounded into the circle, and that in which Briar-thorn fell, like a log, dead in his tracks. The rapidity of events had prevented the Hurons from acting, but this catastrophe permitted no farther delay. A common exclamation followed, and the whole party was in motion. At this instant a sound unusual to the woods was heard, and every Huron, male and female, paused to listen, with ears erect and faces filled with expectation. The sound was regular and heavy, as if the earth were struck with beetles. Objects became visible among the trees of the background, and a body of troops was seen advancing with measured tread. They came upon the charge, the scarlet of the King's livery shining among the bright green foliage of the forest. The scene that followed is not easily described. It was one in which wild confusion, despair, and frenzied efforts were so blended as to destroy the unity and the stickness of the action. A general yell burst from the enclosed Hurons. It was succeeded by the hearty cheers of England. Still not a musket or rifle was fired, though that steady measured tramp continued, and the bayonet was seen gleaming in advance of a line that counted nearly sixty men. The Hurons were taken at a fearful disadvantage. On three sides was the water, while the formidable and trained foes cut them off from flight on the fourth. Each warrior rushed for his arms, and then all on the point man, woman, and child eagerly sought the covers. In this scene of confusion and dismay, however, nothing could surpass the discretion and coolness of Dearslayer. His first care was to place Judith in his behind trees, and he looked for Hetty, but she had been hurried away in the crowd of Huron women. This affected he threw himself on a flank of the retiring Hurons, who were inclining off towards the southern margin of the point, in the hope of escaping through the water. Dearslayer watched his opportunity, and finding two of his recent tormentors in a rage, his rifle first broke the silence of the terrific scene. The bullet brought down both at one discharge. This drew a general fire from the Hurons, and the rifle and war cry of the serpent were heard in the climber. Still the trained men returned no answering volley, the whoop and peace of hurry alone being heard on their side, if we accept the short, prompt word of authority and that heavy measured and menacing tread. Presently, however, the shrieks, groans, and denunciations that usually accompany the use of the bayonet followed. That terrible and deadly weapon was glutted in vengeance. The scene that succeeded was one of those of which so many have occurred in our own times, in which neither age nor sex forms an exemption to the lot of savage warfare. 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? Shelly, mutability, eleven, one through five. The picture next presented by the point of land that the unfortunate Hurons had selected for their last place of encampment need scarcely be laid before the eyes of the reader. Happily for the more tender-minded and the more timid, the trunks of the trees, the leaves and the smoke had concealed much of that which passed, and night shortly after drew its veil over the lake and the whole of that seemingly interminable wilderness, which may be said to have then stretched with few and immaterial interruptions from the banks of the Hudson to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. Our business carries us into the following day, when light returned upon the earth, as sunny and as smiling as if nothing extraordinary had occurred. When the sun rose on the following morning, every sign of hostility and alarm had vanished from the basin of the glimmer glass. The frightful event of the preceding evening had left no impression on the placid sheet, and the untiring hours pursued their course in the placid order prescribed by the powerful hand that set them in motion. The birds were again skimming the water, or were seen poised on the wing, high above the tops of the tallest pines of the mountains, ready to make their swoops in obedience to the irresistible law of their natures. In a word nothing was changed but the air of movement and life that prevailed in and around the castle. Here, indeed, was an alteration that must have struck the least-observant eye. A sentinel, who wore the light infantry uniform of a royal regiment, paced the platform with measured tread, and some twenty more of the same core lounged about the place, or were seated in the ark. Their arms were stacked under the eye of their comrade on post. Two officers stood examining the shore with the ship's glass so often mentioned. Their looks were directed to that fatal point where scarlet coats were still to be seen gliding among the trees, and where the magnifying power of the instrument also showed spades at work, and the sad duty of interment going on. Several of the common men bore proofs on their persons that their enemies had not been overcome entirely without resistance. And the youngest of the two officers on the platform wore an arm and a sling. His companion, who commanded the party, had been more fortunate. He had was who used the glass in making the reconnaisances in which the two were engaged. A sergeant approached to make a report. He addressed the senior of these officers as Captain Warley, while the other was alluded to as Mr., which was equivalent to Ensign Thornton. The former, albeit once seen, was the officer who had been named with so much feeling in the parting dialogue between Judith and Hurry. He was in truth the very individual with whom the scandal of the garrisons had most freely connected the name of this beautiful but indiscreet girl. He was a hard-featured, red-faced man of about five and thirty, but of a military carriage, and with an air of fashion that might easily impose on the imagination of one as ignorant of the world as Judith. Craig is covering us with benedictions, observed this person to his young Ensign, with an air of indifference, as he shut the glass and handed it to his servant. To say the truth, not without reason, it is certainly more agreeable to be here in attendance on Mrs. Judith Hutter than to be burying Indians on a point of the lake, however romantic the position or brilliant the victory. By the way, right, is Davis still living? He died about ten minutes since, your honor, returned the sergeant to whom this question was addressed. I knew how it would be as soon as I found the bullet had touched the stomach. I never knew a man who could hold out long if he had a hole in his stomach. No, it is rather inconvenient for carrying away anything very nourishing, observed Warley, gaping. This being up two nights to sweet, Arthur, plays the devil with a man's faculties. I'm as stupid as one of those Dutch Parsons on the Mohawk. I hope your arm is not painful, my dear boy. It draws a few grimaces from me, sir, as I suppose you see, answered the youth, laughing at the very moment his countenance was a little awry with pain. But it may be born. I suppose Graham can spare a few minutes soon to look at my hurt. She is a lovely creature, this Judith Hutter, after all, Thornton, and it shall not be my fault if she is not seen and admired in the parks. Resumed Warley, who thought little of his companions wound. Your armor? Quite true. Go into the Ark, Sergeant, and tell Dr. Graham I desire he would look at Mr. Thornton's injury, as soon as he has done with the poor fellow with the broken leg. A lovely creature. And she looked like a queen in that brocade dress in which we met her. I find all changed here, father and mother both gone, the sister dying if not dead, and none of the family left but the beauty. This has been a lucky expedition all round, and promises to terminate better than Indian skirmishes in general. It might as suppose, sir, that you are about to desert your colors in the great core of Bachelors, and close the campaign with matrimony? I, Tom Warley, turn Benedict. Faith, my dear boy. You little know the core you speak of, if you fancy any such thing. I do suppose there are women 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 even down on the Dutch river where we are posted. It is true, my uncle, the general, 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 were handsome. If handsome you would marry a beggar? I, these are the notions of an ensign. Love in a cottage, doors, and windows, the old story for the hundredth time. The twentieth, don't marry. We are not a marrying core, my dear boy. There is the Colonel, old Sir Edwin. 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 tell my cousin the bishop. The Major is a widower, having tried matrimony for twelve months in his youth. And we look upon him now as one of our most certain men. Out of ten captains but one is in the dilemma, and he, poor devil, is always kept at regimental headquarters, as a sort of memento mori to the young men as they join. As for the subalterns, not one has ever yet had the audacity to speak of introducing a wife into the regiment. But your arm is troublesome, and we'll go ourselves and see what has become of Graham. The surgeon who had accompanied the party was employed very differently from what the captains supposed. When the assault was over and the dead and wounded were collected poor had he had been found among the latter. A rifle bullet had passed through her body, inflicting an injury that was known at a glance to be mortal. How this wound was received, no one knew. It was probably one of those casualties that ever accompanied scenes like that related in the previous chapter. The sumac, all the elderly women and some of the Huron girls had fallen by the bayonet, either in the confusion of the melee or from the difficulty of distinguishing the sexes when the dress was so simple. Much the greater portion of the warriors suffered on the spot. A few had escaped, however, and two or three had been taken unharmed. As for the wounded, the bayonet saved the surgeon much trouble. Rivenoke had escaped with life and limb, but was injured and a prisoner. As Captain Morley and his ensign went into the ark they passed him, seated in dignified silence in one end of the scow, his head and leg bound, but betraying no visible sign of despondency or despair. That he mourned the loss of his tribe is certain. Still he did it in a manner that best became a warrior and a chief. The two soldiers found their surgeon in the principal room of the ark. He was just quitting the pallet of heady with an expression of sorrowful regret on his hard, pockmarked Scottish features, that it was not usual to see there. All his assiguity had been useless, and he was compelled reluctantly to abandon the expectation of seeing the girls survive many hours. Mr. Graham was accustomed to deathbed scenes, and ordinarily they produced but little impression on him. In all that relates to religion his was one of those minds which, in consequence of reasoning much on material things, logically and consecutively, and overlooking the total want of premises which such a theory must ever possess, through its want of a primary agent, had become sceptical, leaving a vague opinion concerning the origin of things, that, with high pretensions to philosophy, failed in the first of all philosophical principles, a cause. To him religious dependence appeared a weakness, but when he found one gentle and young like heady, with a mind beneath the level of her race, sustained at such a moment by these pious sentiments, and that, too, in a way that many a sturdy warrior and reputed hero might have looked upon with envy, he found himself affected by the sight to a degree that he would have been ashamed to confess. Edinburgh and Aberdeen then is now supplied no small portion of the medical men of the British service, and Dr. Graham, as indeed his name and countenance equally indicated, was by birth a North Britain. Here is an extraordinary exhibition for a forest, and one but half gifted with reason he observed with a decided Scottish accent, as Warley and the Ensign entered. I just hope, gentlemen, that when we three shall be called on to quit the twentieth, we may be found as resigned to go on the half-pay of another existence as this poor demented child. Is there no hope that she can survive the hurt, demanded Warley, turning his eyes towards the pala 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 chairly Stuart. Approach and judge for yourselves, gentlemen, you'll see faith exemplified in an exceeding and wonderful manner. There is a sort of arbitrium between life and death and actual conflict in the poor girl's mind that renders her an interesting 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 as much as we please on the operations and sinuosities of the human mind. The surgeon and the Ensign retired, and Warley had an opportunity of looking about him more at leisure and with a better understanding of the nature and feelings of the group collected in the cabin. Poor Heddy had been placed on her own simple bed, and was reclining at a half-seeded attitude, with the approaches of death on her countenance, though they were singularly dimmed by the luster of an expression in which all the intelligence of her entire being appeared to be concentrated. Judith and Hiss were near her, the former seated in deep grief, the latter standing in readiness to offer any of the gentle attentions of feminine care. Dear Slayer stood at the end of the pallet, leaning on Kildear, unharmed in person, all the fine martial art that had so lately glowed in his countenance having given place to the usual look of honesty and benevolence, qualities of which the expression was now softened by manly 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 of the eye escaped his own keen glances. Hury completed the group, being seated on a stool near the door, like one who felt himself out of place in such a scene, but it was a shame to quit it, unbidden. Who is that in Scarlet? asked Hattie, as soon as the captain's uniform caught her eye. Tell me, Judith, is it the friend of Hury? It is the officer who commands the troops that have rescued us all from the hands of the Hurons, was the low answer of the sister. In my rescue 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 so is Hury. I was afraid Hury would be killed when I heard him shouting among the soldiers. Never mind, never mind, dear Hattie, interrupted Judith, sensitively alive to the preservation of her sister's secret, more perhaps at such a moment than at any other. Hury is well, and dear Slayer is well, and the Delaware is well too. How came they to shoot a poor girl like me, and let so many men go unharmed? I didn't know that the Hurons were so wicked, Judith. It was an accident, poor Hattie. A sad accident it has been. No one would willingly have injured you. I'm glad of that. I thought it strange. I am feeble-minded, and the Red Men have never harmed me before. I should be sorry to think that they had changed their minds. I am glad too, Judith, that they haven't hurt Hury. Dear Slayer, I don't think God will suffer any one to harm. It was very fortunate the soldiers came as they did, though, for fire will burn. It was indeed fortunate, my sister. God's holy name be forever blessed for the mercy. I dare say, Judith, you know some of the officers. You used to know so many. Judith made no reply. She hit her face in her hands and groaned. Hattie gazed at her in wonder. But naturally supposing her own situation was the cause of this grief, she kindly offered to console her sister. Don't mind me, dear Judith, said the affectionate and pure-hearted creature. I don't suffer. If I do die, why father and mother are both dead, and what happens to them may well happen to me. You know I am of less account than any of the family. Therefore a few will think of me after I am in the lake. No, no, no. Poor dear, dear Hattie, exclaimed Judith, in an uncontrollable burst of sorrow. I, at least, will ever think of you, and gladly, oh how gladly would I exchange places with you to be the pure, excellent, sinless creature you are. Until now Captain Morley had stood leaning against the door of the cabin. When this outbreak of feeling and perchance of penitence, however, escaped the beautiful girl, he walked slowly and thoughtfully away, 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 of triumph. It's true. I can't read any longer. There's something that mattered with my eyes. You look dim and distant, and so does hurry. Now I look at him. Well, I never could have believed that Henry March would have so dull a look. What can be the reason, Judith, that I see so badly today? I, whom Mother always said, had the best eyes in the whole family. Yes, that was it. My mind was feeble. What people call half-witted. But my eyes were so good. Again Judith groaned. This time no feeling of self, no retrospect of the past caused the pain. It was the pure, heartfelt sorrow of sisterly love, heightened by a sense of the meek humility and perfect truth of the being before her. At that moment she would gladly have given up her own life to save that of Heady. As the last, however, was beyond the reach of human power, she felt there was nothing left her but sorrow. At this moment Warley returned to the cabin, drawn by a secret impulse he could not withstand, though he felt just then as if he would gladly abandon the American continent for ever were practicable. Instead of pausing at the door, he now advanced so near the pallet of the sufferer as to come more plainly within her gaze, had he could still distinguish large objects, and her look soon fastened on him. Are you the officer that came with hurry? she asked. If you are, we ought all to thank you, for though I am hurt the rest have saved their lives. Did Harry March tell you where to find us, and how much need there 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 of a 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 a firing which I now understand was merely a shooting at the mark, for it not only quickened our march, but called us to the right side of the lake. The Delaware saw us on the shore, with the glass it would seem, and he enhissed, 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 anything fortunate, sir, returned the girl huskily, again concealing her face. To me the world is full of misery. I wish never to hear of marks or rifles or soldiers or men again. Do you know my sister, asked Heddie, ere the rebuked soldier had time to 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 Heddie, as Hutter's daughters. For heaven's sake, dearer sister, for my sake, beloved Heddie, interposed Judith imploringly, say no more of this. Heddie looked surprised, but accustomed to comply she ceased her awkward and painful interrogations of Warley, bending her eyes towards the Bible which she still held between her hands, as one would cling to a casket of precious stones and a shipwreck, or a conflagration. Her mind now averted to the future, losing sight in a great measure of the scenes of the past. We shall not long be parted, Judith, she said. When you die you must be brought and be buried in the lake by the sight of mother, too. Would do God, Heddie, that I lay there at this moment? No, that cannot be, Judith. People must die before they have any right to be buried. It would be wicked to bury you, or for you to bury yourself while living. Once I thought of burying myself, God kept me from that sin. You! You, Heddie Hutter, think of such an act, exclaimed Judith, looking up in uncontrollable surprise, for she well knew nothing past the lips of her conscientious sister that was not religiously true. Yes, I did, Judith, but God has forgotten. No, he forgets nothing. But he has forgiven it, returned the dying girl, with the subdued manner of her repentant child. It was after mother's death. I felt I had lost the best friend I had on earth, if not the only friend. Tis true, you and father were kind to me, Judith, but I was so feeble-minded, I knew I should only give you trouble. And then you were so often ashamed of such a sister and daughter, and tis hard to live in a world where all look upon you as below them. I thought, then, if I could bury myself by the sight of mother, I should be happier in the lake than in the hut. Forgive me, pardon me, dearest Heddie, on my bended knees I beg you to pardon me, sweet sister, if any word or act of mine drove you to so maddening and cruel a thought. Get up, Judith! Kneel to God! Don't kneel to me! Just so I felt when mother was dying. I remembered everything I had said and done to vex her, and could have kissed her feet for forgiveness. I think it must be so with all dying people. Though now I think of it, I don't remember to have had such feelings on account of father. Judith arose, hid her face in her apron, and wept. A long pause, one of more than two hours, succeeded, during which Worley entered and left the cabin several times. Apparently uneasy when absent and yet unable to remain. 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 burying the dead, and had sent for instructions from the shore, desiring to know what he was to do with his detachment. During this interval, had he slept a little, and dear Slayer and Chingoch Cook left the Ark to confer together. But at the end of the time mentioned, the surgeon passed upon the platform, and with a degree of feeling his comrades had never before observed him one of his habits, he announced that the patient was rapidly drawing near her end. On receiving this intelligence the group collected again curiosity to witness such a death, or a better feeling, drawing to the spot men who had so lately been actors in a scene seemingly of so much greater interest and moment. By this time Judith had got to be inactive through grief, and his alone was performing the little offices of feminine attention that are so appropriate to the sick bed. Had he herself had undergone no other apparent change than the general failing that indicated the near approach of dissolution. All that she possessed of mind was as clear as ever, and in some respects her intellect perhaps was more than usually active. Don't grieve for me so much Judith, said the general sufferer, after a 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 am dead God will give me all my mind, and I shall become a more fitting companion for mother than I ever was before. You will be an angel in heaven, Hattie, sobbed the sister. No spirit there will be more worthy of its holy residence. I don't understand it quite. Still, I know it must be all true. I've read it in the Bible. How dark it's becoming. Can it be night so soon? I can hardly see you at all. Where is Hist? I hear, poor girl, why you no see me? I do see you, but I couldn't tell whether it was you or Judith. I believe I shan't see you much longer, Hist. Sorry for that, poor Hattie. Never mind. Pale face got a heaven for girl as well as for warrior. Where's the serpent? Let me speak to him. Give me his hand. So. I feel it. Delaware. You will love and cherish this young Indian woman. I know how fond she is of you. You must be fond of her. Don't treat her as some of your people treat their wives. Be a real husband to her. Now, bring Dear Slayer near me. Give me his hand. This request was complied with, and the hunter stood by the side of the pallet, submitting to the wishes of the girl with the docility of a child. I feel, Dear Slayer, she resumed, though I couldn't tell why. But I feel that you and I are not going to part forever. It is a strange feeling. I never had it before. I wonder what it comes from. Is God encouraging you in extremity, Hattie? As such it ought to be harbored and respected. Yes, we shall meet again, though it may be a long time first, and in a far distant land. Do you mean to be buried in the lake, too? If so, that may account for the feeling. Tis little likely, gal. Tis little likely. But there's a region for Christian souls where there's no lakes nor woods, they say. Though why there should be none of the last is more than I can account for, seeing that pleasantness and peace is the object in view. My grave will be found in the forest, most likely, but I hope my spirit will not be far from your own. 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? I can't see, now, anything but darkness. It must be night, surely. Oh, Hattie! I am here at your side. These are my arms that are around you, sob Judith. Speak, dearest, is there anything you wish to say or have done in this awful moment? By this time, Hattie's sight had entirely failed her. Nevertheless, death approached with less than usual of its horrors, as if in tenderness to one of her half-endowed faculties. She was pale as a corpse, but her breathing was easy and unbroken, while her voice, though lowered almost to a whisper, remained clear and distinct. When her sister put this question, however, a blush diffused itself over the features of the dying girl, so faint, however, as to be nearly imperceptible, resembling that 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 Judith detected this exposure of feeling, one of the gentle expressions of womanly sensibility, even in death. On her, however, it was not lost, nor did she conceal from herself the cause. Hurry is here, dearest Hattie! whispered the sister, with her face so near the sufferer as to keep the words from other ears. Shall I tell him to come and receive your good wishes? A gentle pressure of the hand answered in the affirmative. Then hurry was brought to the side of the pallet. It is probable that this handsome but rude woodsman had never before found himself so awkwardly placed. Though the inclination which Hattie felt for him a sort of secret yielding to the instincts of nature, rather than any unbecoming impulse of an ill-regulated imagination, was too pure and unobtrusive to have created the slightest suspicion of the circumstance in his mind, he allowed Judith to put his hard colossal hand between those of Hattie, and stood, 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 to him, and let him go. What shall I say, Judith? Nay, whatever your own pure spirit teaches, my love, trust to that, and you need fear nothing. Goodbye, hurry! rumored the girl, with a gentle pressure of his hand, I wish you would try and be more like Dear Slayer. These words were uttered with difficulty. A faint flush succeeded them for a single instant. Then the hand was relinquished, and Hattie turned her face aside, as if done with the world. The mysterious feeling that bound her to the young man, a sentiment so gentle as to be almost imperceptible to herself, and which could never have existed at all, had her reason possessed more command over her senses, was forever lost in thoughts 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 see you. Farewell, Judith. The last words were uttered after a pause, and her sister had hung over her some time in anxious watchfulness before she perceived that the gentle spirit had departed. Thus died Hattie Hutter, one of those mysterious links between the material and immaterial world, which, while they appear to be deprived of so much that it is esteemed and necessary for this state of being, draw so near to, and offer so beautiful an illustration of the truth, purity, and simplicity of another. THE DEAR SLAYER by James Fenimore Cooper CHAPTER XXXII A baron's child to be beguiled, it were a cursed deed, to be fellow with an outlaw, Almighty God forbid, yea, better were the poorest squire alone to forest yead, than ye should say, another day, that by my cursed deed ye were betrayed. Wherefore, good maid, the best reed that I can, is that I to the green wood go, alone, a banished man. TOMAS PERCY NUTBROWN MADE XI. 265-276 FROM RELEX OF ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY, VIUM II The day that followed proved to be melancholy, though one of much activity. The soldiers who had so lately been employed in interring their victims, were now called on to bury their own dead. The scene of the morning had left a saddened feeling on all the gentlemen of the party, and the rest felt the influence of a similar sensation, in a variety of ways and from many causes. Hour dragged on after hour, until evening arrived, and then came the last melancholy offices in honor of poor Hettie Hutter. Her body was laid in the lake, by the side of that of the mother she had so loved and reverenced. The surgeon, though actually an unbeliever, so far complying with the received decencies of life, as to read the funeral service over her grave, as he had previously done over those of the other Christian slain. It mattered not, that all seeing eye which reads the heart could not fail to discriminate between the living and the dead, and the gentle soul of the unfortunate girl was already far removed, beyond the errors or deceptions of any human ritual. These simple rites, however, were not wholly wanting and suitable accompaniments. The tears of Judith and Hist were shed freely, and Deerslayer gazed upon the limpid water that now flowed over one whose spirit was even purer than its own mountain springs, with glistening eyes. Even the Delaware turned aside to conceal his weakness, while the common man gazed under the ceremony with wondering eyes and chastened feelings. The business of the day closed with this pious office, by order of the commanding officer all retired early to rest, for it was intended to begin the march homeward with the return of light. One party indeed bearing the wounded, the prisoners and the trophies, had left the castle in the middle of the day under the guidance of hurry, intending to reach the fort by shorter branches. It had been landed on the point so often mentioned, or that described in our opening pages, and when the sunset was already encamped on the brow of the long broken and ridgy hills that fell away towards the valley of the Mohawk, the departure of this detachment had greatly simplified the duty of the succeeding day, disencumbering its march of its baggage and wounded and otherwise leaving him who had issued the order greater liberty of action. Withheld no communication with any but Hist, after the death of her sister, until she retired for the night. Her sorrow had been respected and both the females had been left with the body, unintruded on, to the last moment. The rattling of the drum broke the silence of that tranquil water and the echoes of the tattoo were heard among the mountains so soon after the ceremony was over as to preclude the danger of interruption. That star which had been the guide of Hist rose on a scene as silent as if the quiet of nature had never yet been disturbed by the labors or passions of man. One solitary sentinel, with his relief, paced the platform throughout the night, and mourning was ushered in as usual by the martial beat of the Reveley. Military precision succeeded to the desultory proceedings of bordermen, and when a hasty and frugal breakfast was taken the party began its movement towards the shore, with the regularity and order that prevented noise or confusion. Of all the officers, warly alone remained. Craig headed the detachment in advance, Thornton was with the wounded, and Graham accompanied his patients as a matter of course. Even the chest of Hutter, with all the more valuable of his effects, was borne away, leaving nothing behind that was worth the labor of her removal. Judith was not sorry to see that the captain respected her feelings, and that he occupied himself entirely with the duty of his command, leaving her to her own discretion and feelings. It was understood by all that the place was to be totally abandoned, but beyond this no explanations were asked or given. The soldiers embarked in the ark, with the captain at their head. He had inquired of Judith in what way she chose to proceed, and understanding her wish to remain with his to the last moment, he neither molested her with requests nor offended her with advice. There was but one safe and familiar trail to the Mohawk, and on that, at the proper hour, he doubted not that they should meet in Amity, if not a renewed intercourse. When all were on board, the sweeps were manned, and the ark moved in its sluggish manner towards the distant point. Dear Slayer and Chingich Guk now lifted two of the canoes from the water, and placed them in the castle. The windows and door were then barred, and the house was left by means of the trap, in the manner already described. Unquitting the palisades, HIST was seen in the remaining canoe, where the Delaware immediately joined her, and paddled away, leaving Judith standing alone on the platform. Owing to this prompt proceeding, Dear Slayer found himself alone with the beautiful and still weeping mourner. Too simple to suspect anything, the young man swept the light boat round, and received its mistress in it, when he followed the course already taken by his friend. The direction to the point led diagonally past, and at no great distance from the graves of the dead. As the canoe glided by, Judith for the first time that morning spoke to her companion. She said but little, merely uttering a simple request to stop for a minute or two, ere she left the place. I may never see this spot again, Dear Slayer, she said, and it contains the bodies of my mother and sister. Is it not possible, thank you, that the innocence of one of these beings may answer in the eyes of God for the salvation of both? I don't understand it, so Judith, though I am no missionary, and am but poorly taught. Each spirit answers for its own backslidings, though a hearty repentance will satisfy God's laws. Then must my poor mother be in heaven. Bitterly, bitterly has she repented of her sins, and surely her sufferings in this life ought to count as something against her sufferings in the next. All this goes beyond me, Judith. I strive to do right here, as the surest means of keeping all right hereafter. Had he was uncommon, as all that knowed her must allow, and her soul was as fit to concert with angels 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 be so great differences between those who were nursed at the same breast, slept in the same bed, and dwelt under the same roof. But no matter. Move the canoe a little farther east, dear slayer. The sun so dazzles my eyes that I cannot see the graves. This is Heddy's, on the right of Mother's. Sarton, you ask 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 she turned her eyes backward at the castle. This lake will soon be entirely deserted, she said, and this, too, at a moment when it will be a more secure dwelling place than ever. What has so lately happened will prevent the Iroquois from venturing again to visit it for a long time to come. That it will, yes, that may be set down a certain. I do not mean to pass this away again. So long as the war lasts, for, to my mind, no Huron moccasin will leave its print on the leaves of this forest, until their traditions have forgotten to tell their young men of their disgrace and rout. And do you so delight in violence and bloodshed, I had thought better of you, dear slayer, believed you one who could find his happiness in a quiet domestic home, with an attached and loving wife ready to study your wishes, and healthy and dutiful children anxious to follow in your footsteps, and to become as honest and just as yourself. Lord Judith, what a tongue you are mistress of, speech and looks go hand in hand like, and what one can't do the other is pretty certain to perform. Such a gal, in a month, might spoil the stoutest warrior in the colony. And am I then so mistaken? Do you really love war, dear slayer, better than the hearth, and the affections? I understand your meaning, gal, yes I do. I understand what you mean, I believe. Though I don't think you altogether understand me. Warrior I may now call myself, I suppose, for I have both fought and conquered, which is sufficient for the name. Neither will I deny that I have feelings for the colony, which is both manful and honourable when carried on according to natural gifts. But I have no relish for blood. Youth is youth, however, and a mingle is a mingle. If the young men of this region stood by and suffered the vagabonds to overrun the land, why, we might as well all turn Frenchers at once and give up country and kin. I'm no fire-eater, Judith, or one that likes fighting for fight and sake. But I can see no great difference between giving up territory for a war, out of a dread of war, and giving it up at her a war, because we can't help it, unless it be that the last is the most manful and honourable. No woman would ever wish to see her husband or brother stand by and submit to insult and wrong, dear Slayer. However she might mourn the necessity of his running into the dangers of battle. But you've done enough already in clearing this region of the Hurans, since to you is principally owing the credit of our late victory. Now listen to me patiently and answer me with that native honesty which it is as pleasant 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 explaining herself, native modesty asserted its power, notwithstanding the encouragement and confidence she derived from the great simplicity of her 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. Dear Slayer, she said, after a considerable pause. This is not a moment for affectation, deception, or 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 of place. I will therefore speak to you without any reserve, and without any dread of being misunderstood. You are not an acquaintance of a weak, but it appears to me as if I had known you for years, so much, and so much that is important, has taken place within that short time, that the sorrows and dangers and escapes of a whole life have been crowded into a few days, and they who have suffered and acted together in such scenes ought not to feel like strangers. I know that what I am about to say might be misunderstood by most men, but I hope for a generous construction of my course from you. We are not here dwelling among the arts and deceptions of the settlements, but young people who have no occasion to deceive each other in any manner or form. I hope I make myself understood. Sarton Judith, few converse better than yourself and none more agreeable like. Your words are as pleasant as your looks. It is the manner in which you have so often praised those looks that gives me courage to proceed. Still, dear Slayer, it is not easy for one of my sex and years to forget all her lessons of infancy, all her habits, and her natural diffidence, and say openly what her heart feels. Why not, Judith? Why shouldn't women as well as men deal fairly and honestly by their fellow creatures? I see no reason why you should not speak as plainly as myself when there is anything really important to be said. This indomitable diffidence which still prevented the young man from suspecting the truth would have completely discouraged the girl had not her whole soul, as well as her whole heart, been set upon making a desperate effort to rescue herself from a future that she dreaded, with a horror as vivid as the distinctness with which she fancied she foresaw it. This motive, however, raised her above all common considerations, and she persevered even to her own surprise if not to her great confusion. I will, I must deal as plainly with you as I would with poor dear Hetty, where that sweet child living she continued turning pale instead of blushing, the high resolution by which she was prompted reversing the effect that such a procedure would ordinarily produce on one of her sex. Yes, I will smother all other feelings in the one that is now uppermost. You love the woods and the life that we pass here in the wilderness away from the dwellings and the towns of the whites. As I loved my parents, Judith, when they was living, this very spot would be all creation to me, could this war be fairly over once, and the settlers kept at a distance. Why quit it, then? It has no owner, at least none who can claim a better right than mine, and that I freely give to you. We're at a kingdom, dear Slayer, I think I should delight to say the same. Let us then return to it, after we have seen the priests at the fort, and never quit it again, until God calls us away to that world where we shall find the spirits of my poor mother and sister. A long, thoughtful pause succeeded. Judith here covered her face with both her hands, after forcing herself to utter so plain a proposal, and dear Slayer amusing equally and sorrow and surprise on the meaning of the 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 to offend. You haven't thought well of this, Judith, he said. No, your feelings are awakened by all that has lately happened. And believing yourself to be without kindred in the world you are in too great haste to find some to fill the places of them that's lost. Were I living in a crowd of friends, dear Slayer, I should still think as I now think. Say as I now say, return, Judith, speaking with her hands still shading her lovely face. Thank you, gal, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. However, I am not one to take advantage of a weak moment, when your forgetful of your own great advantages and fancy arth and all it holds is in this little canoe. No, no, Judith, it would be ungenerous of me. What you've offered 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 once unveiled her eyes. We can cause the soldiers to leave our goods on the road 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. All your skins may be readily sold at the garrison. There you can buy the few necessaries we shall want, for I wish never to see the spot again. And, dear Slayer, added the girl smiling with a sweetness and nature that the young man found it hard to resist. As a proof how holy I am and wish 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 lighted with the brocade dress, and fed by every article I have, that you may think unfit for the woman you wish to live with. Osme. You are winning at a lovely creature, Judith. Yes, you are all that. And no one can deny it and speak truth. These pictures are pleasant to the thoughts, but they might not prove so happy as you now think them. Forget it all, therefore, and let us paddle after the serpent and hisst, as if nothing had been said on the subject. Judith was deeply mortified. And what is more, she was profoundly grieved. Still, there was a steadiness and quiet in the manner of dear Slayer that completely smothered her hopes, and told her that for once her exceeding beauty had failed to excite the admiration and homage it was want to receive. Women are said seldom to forgive those who slight their advances. But this high-spirited and impetuous girl entertained no shadow of resentment, then or ever, against the fair, dealing, and ingenuous hunter. At the moment the prevailing feeling was the wish to be certain that there was no misunderstanding. After another painful pause therefore she brought the matter to an issue by a question too direct to admit of equivocation. God forbid that we lay up regrets in afterlife through my want of sincerity now, she said. I hope we understand each other at least. You will not accept me for a wife, dear Slayer. Tis better for both that I shouldn't take advantage of your own forgetfulness, Judith. We can never marry. You do not love me? Can I find it in your heart perhaps to esteem me, dear Slayer? Everything in the way of friendship, Judith, everything even to services 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 saying as much as I can say of any daughter of woman. I do not think I feel towards either, mind I say either, Judith, as if I wish to quit father and mother, if father and mother was livin', which, however, neither is. But if both was livin' I do not feel towards any woman as if I wish to quit him in order 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 that love you do not feel for me. Make no answer if I am right, for I shall understand your silence. That will be painful enough of itself. Dear Slayer obeyed her, and he made no reply. For more than a minute the girl riveted her bright eyes on him as if to read his soul, while he was playing with the water like a corrected schoolboy. Then Judith herself dropped the end of her paddle and urged the canoe away from the spot, with a movement as reluctant as the feelings which controlled it. Dear Slayer quietly aided the effort, however, and they were soon on the trackless line taken by the Delaware. In their way to the point not another syllable was exchanged between Dear Slayer and his fair companion. As Judith sat in the bow of the canoe her back was turned towards him, else it is probable the expression over countenance might have induced him to venture some soothing terms of friendship and regard. Contrary to what would have been expected, resentment was still absent, though the color frequently changed from the deep flush of mortification to the paleness of disappointment. Sorrel, deep heartfelt sorrow, however, was the predominant emotion, and this was betrayed in a manner not to be mistaken. As neither labored hard at the paddle the ark had already arrived and the soldiers had disembarked before the canoe of the two loiterers reached the point. Chingichook had preceded it and was already some distance in the wood at a spot where the two trails, that to the garrison and that to the villages of the Delaware separated. The soldiers too had taken up their line of march, first setting the ark adrift again with a reckless disregard of its fate. All this Judith saw, but she heeded it not. The glimmer glass had no longer any charms for her, and when she put her foot on the strand she immediately proceeded on the trail of the soldiers without casting a single glance behind her. Even hissed was passed unnoticed, that modest young creature shrinking from the averted face of Judith as if guilty herself of some wrong doing. Wait you here, serpent, said Dear Slayer, as he followed in the footsteps of the dejected beauty, while passing his friend. I will just see Judith among her party and come and join you. A hundred yards had hid the couple from those in front, as well as those in their rear, when Judith turned and spoke. This will do, Dear Slayer, she said sadly. I understand your kindness but shall not need it. In a few minutes I shall reach the soldiers. As you cannot go with me on the journey of life I do not wish you to go further on this. But stop, before we part I would ask you a single question. And I require of you as you fear God and reverence for the truth not to deceive me in your answer. I know you do not love another. And I can see but one reason why you cannot, will not love me. Tell me then, Dear Slayer, the girl paused. The words she was about to utter, seeming to choke her, then rallying all her resolution with a face that flushed and paled at every breath she drew. She continued, Tell me then, Dear Slayer, if anything light of me, that Henry March has said, may not have influenced your feelings. Truth was Dear Slayer's polar star. He ever kept it in view. And it was nearly impossible for him to avoid uttering it, even when prudence demanded a silence. Judith read his answer in his countenance, and with a heart nearly broken by the consciousness of undue airing, she signed to him an adieu, and buried herself in the woods. For some time, Dear Slayer was irresolute as to his course, but in the end he retraced his steps and joined the Delaware. That night the three camped on the headwaters of their own river, and the succeeding evening they entered the village of the tribe, Chingoch Cook and his betrothed in triumph. Their companion honored and admired, but in a sorrow that it required months of activity to remove. The war that then had its rise was stirring and bloody. The Delaware chief rose among his people until his name was never mentioned without eulogiums. While another uncus the last of his race was added to the long line of warriors who bore that distinguishing appellation. As for Dear Slayer, under the sobriquet of Hawkeye, he made his fame spread far and near, until the crack of his rifle became as terrible to the ears of the mingos as the thunders of the Manitou. His services were soon required by the officers of the crown, and he especially attached himself in the field to one in particular, with one whose after life he had a close and important connection. Fifteen years had passed away, Eret was in the power of the Dear Slayer to visit the glimmer glass. A peace had intervened, and it was on the eve of another and still more important war when he and his constant friend, Chingoch Cook, were hastening to the forts to join their allies. A stripling accompanied them, for his already slumbered beneath the pines of the Delaware's, and the three survivors had now become inseparable. They reached the lake just as the sun was setting. Here all was unchanged. The river still rushed through its bower of trees. The little rock was washing away by the slow action of the waves. In the course of centuries the mountains stood in their native dress, dark, rich, and mysterious, while the sheet glistened in its solitude, a beautiful gem of the forest. The following morning the youth discovered one of the canoes drifted on the shore, in a state of decay. A little labor put it in a state for service, and they all embarked with a desire to examine the place. All the points were passed, and Chingoch Cook pointed out to his son the spot where the Hurons had first encamped, and the point once he had succeeded in stealing his bride. Here they even landed, but all traces of the former visit had disappeared. Next they proceeded to the scene of the battle, and there they found a few of the signs that linger around such localities. Wild beasts had disinterred many of the bodies, and human bones were bleaching in the rains of summer. Unkas regarded all with reverence and pity, though traditions were already rousing his young mind to the ambition and sternness of a warrior. From the point the canoe took its way toward the shoal, where the remains of the castle were still visible a picturesque ruin. The storms of winter had long since unroofed the house, and decay had eaten into the logs. All the fastenings were untouched. But the seasons rioted in the place as if in mockery at the attempt to exclude them. The palisades were rotting, as were the piles, and it was evident that a few more recurrences of winter, a few more gales and tempests, would sweep all into the lake and blot the building from the face of that magnificent solitude. The graves could not be found. Either the elements had obliterated their traces or time had caused them who looked for them to forget their position. The ark was discovered stranded on the eastern shore, where it had long before been driven by the prevalent north-west winds. It lay on the sandy extremity of a long low point that is situated about two miles from the outlet, and which is itself fast disappearing before the action of the elements. The scow was filled with water, the cabin unroofed, and the logs were decaying. Some of its coarser furniture still remained, and the heart of Deerslayer beat quick as he found a ribbon of Judith's, fluttering from a log. It recalled all her beauty, and we may add all her failings, although the girl had never touched his heart. The Hawkeye, for so we ought now to call him, still retained a kind and sincere interest in her welfare. He tore away the ribbon, and knotted it to the stock of Kildir, 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 which had been left there upon the shore. That in which the present navigation was made, and the one discovered on the eastern shore had dropped through the decayed floor of the castle, drifted past the falling palisades, and had been thrown as waves upon the beach. From all these signs it was probable the lake had not been visited since the occurrence of the final scene of our tale. That or tradition had rendered it, again, a spot sacred to nature, the frequent wars and the feeble population of the colonies still confining the settlements within narrow boundaries. Chingoch Kuk and his friend left the spot with melancholy feelings. It had been the region of their first war path, and it carried back the minds of both the scenes of tenderness as well as to hours of triumph. They held their way towards the Mohawk in silence, however, to rush into new adventures, as stirring and as remarkable as those which had attended their opening careers on this lovely lake. At a later day they returned to the place where the Indian found a grave. Time and circumstances have drawn an impenetrable mystery around all else connected with the hutters. They lived, aired, and died, and are forgotten. None connected have felt sufficient interest in the disgraced and disgracing to withdraw the veil, and a century is about to erase even the recollection of their names. The history of crime is ever revolting, and it is fortunate that few love to dwell on its incidents. The sins of the family have long since been arraigned at the judgment seat of God, or are registered for the terrible settlement of the last great day. The same fate attended Judith. When Hawkeye reached the garrison on the Mohawk, he inquired anxiously after that lovely but misguided creature. None knew her. Even her person was no longer remembered. Other officers had again and again succeeded the Warleys and Craigs and Grahams. Though an old sergeant of the Garrison, who had lately come from England, was unable to tell our hero that Sir Robert Warley lived on his paternal estates, and that there was a lady of rare beauty in the lodge who had great influence over him, though she did not bear his name. Whether this was Judith relapsed into her early failing or some other victim of the soldiers, Hawkeye never knew. Nor would it be pleasant or profitable to inquire. We live in a world of transgressions and selfishness, and no pictures that represent us otherwise can be true, though happily for human nature gleamings of that pure spirit in whose likeness man has been fashioned are to be seen, relieving its deformities and mitigating, if not excusing, its crimes.