The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [247]
The Indian bowed his head silently, and always with unmoved gravity, though his eye twinkled at the sight of the other’s embarrassment.
“Well, I never had a betrothed; never had the kind of feelin’s towards any young woman that you have towards Hist; though the Lord knows my feelin’s kind enough towards ‘em all! Still, my heart, as they call it, in such matters isn’t touched, and therefore I can’t say what I would do. A fri’nd pulls strong; that I know by exper’ence, Sarpent; but, by all that I’ve seen and heard consarning love, I’m led to think that a betrothed pulls stronger.”
“True; but the betrothed of Chingachgook does not pull towards the lodges of the Delawares; she pulls towards the camp of the Hurons.”
“She’s a noble gal, for all her little feet and hands that ain’t bigger than a child’s, and a voice that’s as pleasant as a mocker’s; she’s a noble gal, and like the stock of her sires! Well, what is it, Sarpent? for I conclude she hasn’t changed her mind and means to give herself up, and turn Huron wife. What is it you want?”
“Wah-ta-Wah will never live in the wigwam of an Iroquois,” answered the Delaware, dryly. “She has little feet, but they can carry her to the villages of her people; she has small hands, too, but her mind is large. My brother will see what we can do, when the time shall come, rather than let him die under Mingo torments.”
“Attempt nothing heedlessly, Delaware,” said the other earnestly; “I suppose you must and will have your way; and, on the whole, it’s right you should; for you’d neither be happy unless something was undertaken. But attempt nothing heedlessly. I didn’t expect you’d quit the lake while my matter remained in unsartainty; but remember, Sarpent, that no torments that Mingo ingenuity can invent, no ta’ntings and revilings, no burnings and roastings and nail-tearings, nor any other onhuman contrivance, can so soon break down my spirit, as to find that you and Hist have fallen into the power of the inimy, in striving to do something for my good.”
“The Delawares are prudent. The Deerslayer will not find them running into a strange camp with their eyes shut.”
Here the dialogue terminated. Hetty announced that the breakfast was ready, and the whole party were soon seated around the simple board, in the usual primitive manner of borderers. Judith was the last to take her seat, pale, silent, and betraying in her countenance that she had passed a painful if not a sleepless night. At this meal scarce a syllable was exchanged, all the females manifesting want of appetite, though the two men were unchanged in this particular. It was early when the party arose, and there still remained several hours before it would be necessary for the prisoner to leave his friends. The knowledge of this circumstance, and the interest all felt in his welfare, induced the whole party to assemble on the platform again, in the desire to be near the expected victim, to listen to his discourse, and, if possible, to show their interest in him by anticipating his wishes. Deerslayer himself, so far as human eyes could penetrate, was wholly unmoved, conversing cheerfully and naturally, though he avoided any direct allusion to the expected and great event of the day. If any evidence could be discovered of his thoughts reverting to that painful subject at all, it was in the manner in which he spoke of death and the last great change.
“Grieve not, Hetty,” he said; for it was while consoling this simpleminded girl for the loss of her parents that he thus betrayed his feelings; “since God has app‘inted that all must die. Your parents, or them you fancied your parents, which is the same thing, have gone afore you; this is only in the order of natur’, my good gal, for the aged go first, and the young follow. But one that had a mother like your‘n, Hetty, can be at no loss to hope the best as to how matters will turn out in another world. The Delaware here, and Hist, believe in happy hunting-grounds, and have idees befitting