The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [96]
“Well, Sarpent”—asked Deerslayer, when the other had ended his brief but spirited narrative, speaking always in the Delaware tongue, which, for the reader’s convenience only, we render into the peculiar vernacular of the speaker—“Well, Sarpent, as you’ve been scouting around these Mingos, have you anything to tell us of their captyves; the father of these young women and another, who, I somewhat conclude, is the lovyer of one of ’em?”
“Chingachgook has seen them. An old man and a young warrior—the fallen hemlock and the tall pine.”
“You’re not so much out, Delaware; you’re not so much out. Old Hutter is decaying, of a sartainty, though many solid blocks might be hewn out of his trunk yet; and, as for Hurry Harry, so far as height, and strength, and comeliness go, he may be called the pride of the human forest. Were the men bound, or in any manner suffering torture ? I ask on account of the young women; who, I dare say, would be glad to know.”
“It is not so, Deerslayer. The Mingos are too many to cage their game. Some watch, some sleep, some scout, some hunt. The palefaces are treated like brothers today; tomorrow they will lose their scalps.”
“Yes, that’s red natur’, and must be submitted to! Judith and Hetty, here’s comfortable tidings for you, the Delaware telling me that neither your father nor Hurry Harry is in suffering; but, bating the loss of liberty, as well off as we are ourselves. Of course they are kept in the camp; otherwise they do much as they please.”
“I rejoice to hear this, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “and now we are joined by your friend, I make no manner of question that we shall find an opportunity to ransom the prisoners. If there are any women in the camp, I have articles of dress that will catch their eyes; and, should the worst come to the worst, we can open the good chest, which, I think, will be found to hold things that may tempt the chiefs.”
“Judith,” said the young man, looking up at her with a smile, and an expression of earnest curiosity, that, spite of the growing obscurity, did not escape the watchful looks of the girl, “can you find it in your heart to part with your own finery to release prisoners; even though one be your own father, and the other is your sworn suitor and lovyer?”
The flush on the face of the girl arose in part from resentment, but more perhaps from a gentler and novel feeling, that, with the capricious waywardness of taste, had been rapidly rendering her more sensitive to the good opinion of the youth who questioned her, than to that of any other person. Suppressing the angry sensation with instinctive quickness, she answered with a readiness and truth that caused her sister to draw near to listen, though the obtuse intellect of the latter was far from comprehending the workings of a heart as treacherous, as uncertain, and as impetuous in its feelings as that of the spoiled and flattered beauty.
“Deerslayer,” answered Judith, after a moment’s pause, “I shall be honest with you. I confess that the time has been when what you call finery was to me the dearest thing on earth; but I begin to feel dif ferently. Though Hurry Harry is naught to me, nor ever can be, I would give all I own to set him free. If I would do this for blustering, bullying, talking Hurry, who has nothing but good looks to recommend him, you may judge what I would do for my own father.”
“This sounds well, and is according to woman’s gifts. Ah’s me! The same feelin’s is to be found among the young women of the Delawares. I’ve known ‘em, often and often, sacrifice their vanity to their hearts. ’Tis as it should be—‘tis as it should be, I suppose, in both colors. Woman was created for the feelin’s, and is pretty much ruled by feelin’!”
“Would the savages let father go, if Judith and I gave them all our best things?” demanded Hetty, in her innocent, mild manner.
“Their women might interfere, good Hetty; yes, their women might interfere with such an ind in view.