and scouts, and the like,—can do a deal of mischief if they try. ’Twould be an awful thing to me, Deerslayer, did I find Judith married, after an absence of six months!”
“Have you the gal’s faith, to encourage you to hope otherwise?”
“Not at all. I know not how it is: I’m good-looking, boy,—that much I can see in any spring on which the sun shines,—and yet I could not get the hussy to a promise, or even a cordial willing smile, though she will laugh by the hour. If she has dared to marry in my absence, she’d be like to know the pleasures of widowhood afore she is twenty!”
“You would not harm the man she has chosen, Hurry, simply because she found him more to her liking than yourself!”
“Why not! If an enemy crosses my path, will I not beat him out of it! Look at me! am I a man like to let any sneaking, crawling, skin-trader get the better of me in a matter that touches me as near as the kindness of Judith Hutter! Besides, when we live beyond law, we must be our own judges and executioners. And if a man should be found dead in the woods, who is there to say who slew him, even admitting that the colony took the matter in hand and made a stir about it?”
“If that man should be Judith Hutter’s husband, after what has passed, I might tell enough, at least, to put the colony on the trail.”
“You!—half-grown, venison-hunting bantling! You dare to think of informing against Hurry Harry in so much as a matter touching a mink or a woodchuck!”
“I would dare to speak truth, Hurry, consarning you or any man that ever lived.”
March looked at his companion, for a moment, in silent amazement; then seizing him by the throat with both hands, he shook his comparatively slight frame with a violence that menaced the dislocation of some of the bones. Nor was this done jocularly, for anger flashed from the giant’s eyes, and there were certain signs that seemed to threaten much more earnestness than the occasion would appear to call for. Whatever might be the real intention of March, and it is probable there was none settled in his mind, it is certain that he was unusually aroused; and most men who found themselves throttled by one of a mould so gigantic, in such a mood, and in a solitude so deep and helpless, would have felt intimidated, and tempted to yield even the right. Not so, however, with Deerslayer. His countenance remained unmoved; his hand did not shake, and his answer was given in a voice that did not resort to the artifice of louder tones, even by way of proving its owner’s resolution.
“You may shake, Hurry, until you bring down the mountain,” he said quietly, “but nothing beside truth will you shake from me. It is probable that Judith Hutter has no husband to slay, and you may never have a chance to waylay one, else would I tell her of your threat, in the first conversation I held with the gal.”
March released his grip, and sat regarding the other in silent astonishment.
“I thought we had been friends,” he at length added; “but you’ve got the last secret of mine that will ever enter your ears.”
“I want none, if they are to be like this. I know we live in the woods, Hurry, and are thought to be beyond human laws,—and perhaps we are so, in fact, whatever it may be in right,—but there is a law and a law-maker, that rule across the whole continent. He that flies in the face of either need not call me a friend.”
“Damme, Deerslayer, if I do not believe you are at heart a Moravian, and no fair-minded, plain-dealing hunter, as you’ve pretended to be!”
“Fair-minded or not, Hurry, you will find me as plain-dealing in deeds as I am in words. But this giving way to sudden anger is foolish, and proves how little you have sojourned with the red man. Judith Hutter no doubt is still single, and you spoke but as the tongue ran, and not as the heart felt. There’s my hand, and we will say and think no more about it.”
Hurry seemed more surprised than ever; then he burst forth in a loud, good-natured laugh, which brought tears to his eyes. After this he accepted the offered hand, and the parties became friends.
“’Twould have been foolish to quarrel about an idee,” March cried, as he resumed his meal, “and more like lawyers in the towns than like sensible men in the woods. They tell me, Deerslayer, much ill-blood grows out of idees among the people in the lower counties, and that they sometimes get to extremities upon them.”
“That do they,—that do they; and about other matters that might better be left to take care of themselves. I have heard the Moravians say that there are lands in which men quarrel even consarning their religion; and if they can get their tempers up on such a subject, Hurry, the Lord have Marcy on ’em. Howsoever, there is no occasion for our following their example, and more especially about a husband that this Judith Hutter may never see, or never wish to see. For my part, I feel more cur’osity about the feeble-witted sister than about your beauty. There’s something that comes close to a man’s feelin’s, when he meets with a fellow-creatur’ that has all the outward show of an accountable mortal, and who fails of being what he seems, only through a lack of reason. This is bad enough in a man, but when it comes to a woman, and she a young, and maybe a winning creatur’ it touches all the pitiful thoughts his natur’ has. God knows, Hurry, that such poor things be defenceless enough with all their wits about ’em; but it’s a cruel fortun’ when that great protector and guide fails ’em.”
“Hark, Deerslayer,—you know what the hunters, and trappers, and peltry-men in general be; and their best friends will not deny that they are headstrong and given to having their own way, without much bethinking ’em of other people’s rights or feelin’s,—and yet I don’t think the man is to be found, in all this region, who would harm Hetty Hutter, if he could; no, not even a red-skin.”
“Therein, fri’nd Hurry, you do the Delawares, at least, and all their allied tribes, only justice, for a red-skin looks upon a being thus struck by God’s power as especially under his care. I rejoice to hear what you say, however, I rejoice to hear it; but as the sun is beginning to turn towards the afternoon’s sky, had we not better strike the trail again, and make forward, that we may get an opportunity of seeing these wonderful sisters?”
Harry March giving a cheerful assent, the remnants of the meal were soon collected; then the travelers shouldered their packs, resumed their arms, and, quitting the little area of light, they again plunged into the deep shadows of the forest.
“Thou’rt passing from the lake’s green side,
And the hunter’s hearth away;
For the time of flowers, for the summer’s pride,
Daughter! thou canst not stay.”
Mrs. Hemans, “Edith. A Tale of the Woods” II. 191–94
Our two adventurers had not far to go. Hurry knew the direction, as soon as he had found the open spot and the spring, and he now led on with the confident step of a man assured of his object. The forest was dark, as a matter of course, but it was no longer obstructed by underbrush, and the footing was firm and dry. After proceeding near a mile, March stopped, and began to cast about him with an inquiring look, examining the different objects with care, and occasionally turning his eyes on the trunks of the fallen trees, with which the ground was well sprinkled, as is usually the case in an American wood, especially in those parts of the country where timber has
