The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [138]
“Chingachgook,” returned the Delaware, with grave dignity. “They say Great Serpent in Deerslayer tongue.”
“Well, that is my tongue. Deerslayer, and father, and Judith, and I, and poor Hurry Harry—do you know Henry March, Great Serpent? I know you don’t, however, or he would have spoken of you, too.”
“Did any tongue name Chingachgook, Drooping Lily?” for so the chief had named poor Hetty. “Was his name sung by a little bird among the Iroquois?”
Hetty did not answer at first; but with that indescribable feeling that awakens sympathy and intelligence among the youthful and unpracticed of her sex, she hung her head, and the blood suffused her cheek ere she found her tongue. It would have exceeded her stock of intelligence to explain this embarrassment; but though poor Hetty could not reason on every emergency, she could always feel. The color slowly receded from her cheek, and the girl looked up archly at the Indian, smiling with the innocence of a child, mingled with the interest of a woman.
“My sister, the Drooping Lily, hear such bird!” Chingachgook added, and this with a gentleness of tone and manner that would have astonished those who sometimes heard the discordant cries that often came from the same throat; these transitions from the harsh and guttural to the soft and melodious not being infrequent in ordinary Indian dialogues. “My sister’s ears were open—has she lost her tongue?”
“You are Chingachgook—you must be; for there is no other redman here, and she thought Chingachgook would come.”
“Chin-gach-gook,” pronouncing the name slowly, and dwelling on each syllable; “Great Serpent, Yengeesei tongue.”
“Chin-gach-gook,” repeated Hetty, in the same deliberate manner. “Yes, so Hist called it, and you must be the chief.”
“Wah-ta-Wah,” added the Delaware.
“Wah-ta-Wah, or Hist-oh-Hist. I think Hist prettier than Wah, and so I call her Hist.”
“Wah very sweet in Delaware ears!”
“You make it sound differently from me. But never mind; I did hear the bird you speak of sing, Great Serpent.”
“Will my sister say words of song? What she sing most—how she look—often she laugh?”
“She sang Chin-gach-gook oftener than anything else; and she laughed heartily when I told how the Iroquois waded into the water after us, and couldn’t catch us. I hope these logs haven’t ears, Serpent!”
“No fear logs; fear sister next room. No fear Iroquois; Deerslayer stuff his eyes and ears with strange beast.”
“I understand you, Serpent and I understood Hist. Sometimes I think I’m not half as feebleminded as they say I am. Now, do you look up at the roof, and I’ll tell you all. But you frighten me, you look so eager when I speak of Hist.”
The Indian controlled his looks, and affected to comply with the simple request of the girl.
“Hist told me to say, in a very low voice, that you mustn’t trust the Iroquois in anything. They are more artful than any Indians she knows. Then she says that there is a large bright star that comes over the hill, about an hour after dark“—Hist had pointed out the planet Jupiter, without knowing it—“and just as that star comes in sight, she will be on the point where I landed last night, and that you must come for her, in a canoe.”
“Good! Chingachgook understand well enough now, but he understand better if my sister sing to him ag’in.”
Hetty repeated her words, more fully explaining what star was meant, and mentioning the part of the point where he was to venture ashore. She now proceeded in her own unsophisticated way to relate her intercourse with the Indian maid, and to repeat several of her expressions and opinions that gave great delight to the heart of her betrothed. She particularly renewed her injunctions to be on their guard against treachery; a warning that was scarcely needed, however, as addressed to men as wary as those to whom it was sent. She also explained, with sufficient clearness—for on all such subjects the mind of the girl seldom failed her—the present state of the enemy,