The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [261]
“What sort of a thing is a furlough, then, if it be stronger than hemp or iron? I never saw a furlough.”
“I hope you may never feel one, gal; the tie is altogether in the feelin’s, in these matters, and therefore is to be felt and not seen. You can understand what it is to give a promise, I dare to say, good little Hetty?”
“Certainly. A promise is to say you will do a thing, and that binds you to be as good as your word. Mother always kept her promises to me, and then she said it would be wicked if I didn’t keep my promises to her, and to everybody else.”
“You have had a good mother, in some matters, child, whatever she may have been in other some. That is a promise, and, as you say, it must be kept. Now, I fell into the hands of the Mingos last night, and they let me come off to see my fri‘nds and send messages in to my own color, if any such feel consarn on my account, on condition that I shall be back, when the sun is up today, and take whatever their revenge and hatred can contrive, in the way of torments, in satisfaction for the life of a warrior that fell by my rifle, as well as for that of the young woman shot by Hurry, and other disapp’intments met with on and about this lake. What is called a promise atween a mother and darter, or even atween strangers, in the settlements is called a furlough, when given by one soldier to another, on a warpath. And now I suppose you understand my situation, Hetty?”
The girl made no answer for some time, but she ceased paddling altogether, as if the novel idea distracted her mind too much to admit of other employment. Then she resumed the dialogue earnestly and with solicitude.
“Do you think the Hurons will have the heart to do what you say, Deerslayer?” she asked. “I have found them kind and harmless.”
“That’s true enough as consarns one like you, Hetty; but it’s a very different affair when it comes to an open inimy, and he too the owner of a pretty sartain rifle. I don’t say that they bear me special malice on account of any expl‘ites already performed, for that would be bragging, as it might be, on the verge of the grave; but it’s no vanity to believe that they know one of their bravest and cunnin’est chiefs fell by my hands. Such bein’ the case, the tribe would reproach them if they failed to send the spirit of a paleface to keep the company of the spirit of their red brother; always supposin’ that he can catch it. I look for no marcy, Hetty, at their hands; and my principal sorrow is, that such a calamity should befall me on my first warpath: that it would come sooner or later, every soldier counts on and expects.”
“The Hurons shall not harm you, Deerslayer,” cried the girl, much excited. “ ’Tis wicked as well as cruel; I have the Bible here to tell them so. Do you think I would stand by and see you tormented?”
“I hope not, my good Hetty, I hope not; and therefore, when the moment comes, I expect you will move off and not be a witness of what you can’t help, while it would grieve you. But I haven’t stopped the paddles to talk of my own afflictions and difficulties, but to speak a little plainly to you, gal, consarnin’ your own matters.”
“What can you have to say to me, Deerslayer! Since mother died, few talk to me of such things.”
“So much the worse, poor gal; yes, ’tis so much the worse, for one of your state of mind needs frequent talking to in order to escape the snares and desaits of this wicked world. You haven’t forgotten Hurry Harry, gal, so soon, I calculate?”
“I!—I forget Henry March!”—exclaimed Hetty, starting. “Why should I forget him, Deerslayer, when he is our friend, and only left us last night! Then, the large bright star that mother loved so much to gaze at, was just over the top of yonder tall pine on the mountain, as Hurry got into the canoe; and when you landed him on the point, near the east bay, it wasn’t more than the length of Judith