week 3 assignment Eng. Lit

From Chapter 7 of James Fennimore Cooper’s Deerslayer:

As a matter of course, Deerslayer’s attention was first given to
the canoe ahead. It was already quite near the point, and a very
few strokes of the paddle sufficed to tell him that it must touch
before he could possibly overtake it. Just at this moment, too,
the wind inopportunely freshened, rendering the drift of the light
craft much more rapid than certain. Feeling the impossibility of
preventing a contact with the land, the young man wisely determined
not to heat himself with unnecessary exertions; but first looking
to the priming of his piece, he proceeded slowly and warily towards
the point, taking care to make a little circuit, that he might be
exposed on only one side, as he approached.
The canoe adrift being directed by no such intelligence, pursued
its proper way, and grounded on a small sunken rock, at the distance
of three or four yards from the shore. Just at that moment, Deerslayer
had got abreast of the point, and turned the bows of his own boat
to the land; first casting loose his tow, that his movements might
be unencumbered. The canoe hung an instant to the rock; then it
rose a hair’s breadth on an almost imperceptible swell of the water,
swung round, floated clear, and reached the strand. All this the
young man noted, but it neither quickened his pulses, nor hastened
his hand. If any one had been lying in wait for the arrival of
the waif, he must be seen, and the utmost caution in approaching
the shore became indispensable; if no one was in ambush, hurry was
unnecessary. The point being nearly diagonally opposite to the
Indian encampment, he hoped the last, though the former was not
only possible, but probable; for the savages were prompt in adopting
all the expedients of their particular modes of warfare, and quite
likely had many scouts searching the shores for craft to carry
them off to the castle. As a glance at the lake from any height or
projection would expose the smallest object on its surface, there
was little hope that either of the canoes would pass unseen; and
Indian sagacity needed no instruction to tell which way a boat or
a log would drift, when the direction of the wind was known. As
Deerslayer drew nearer and nearer to the land, the stroke of his
paddle grew slower, his eye became more watchful, and his ears
and nostrils almost dilated with the effort to detect any lurking
danger. ‘T was a trying moment for a novice, nor was there the
encouragement which even the timid sometimes feel, when conscious
of being observed and commended. He was entirely alone, thrown on
his own resources, and was cheered by no friendly eye, emboldened
by no encouraging voice. Notwithstanding all these circumstances,
the most experienced veteran in forest warfare could not have
behaved better. Equally free from recklessness and hesitation,
his advance was marked by a sort of philosophical prudence that
appeared to render him superior to all motives but those which were
best calculated to effect his purpose. Such was the commencement
of a career in forest exploits, that afterwards rendered this man,
in his way, and under the limits of his habits and opportunities,
as renowned as many a hero whose name has adorned the pages of
works more celebrated than legends simple as ours can ever become.
When about a hundred yards from the shore, Deerslayer rose in the
canoe, gave three or four vigorous strokes with the paddle, sufficient
of themselves to impel the bark to land, and then quickly laying
aside the instrument of labor, he seized that of war. He was in
the very act of raising the rifle, when a sharp report was followed
by the buzz of a bullet that passed so near his body as to cause
him involuntarily to start. The next instant Deerslayer staggered,
and fell his whole length in the bottom of the canoe. A yell –
it came from a single voice – followed, and an Indian leaped from
the bushes upon the open area of the point, bounding towards the
canoe. This was the moment the young man desired. He rose on the
instant, and levelled his own rifle at his uncovered foe; but his
finger hesitated about pulling the trigger on one whom he held at
such a disadvantage. This little delay, probably, saved the life
of the Indian, who bounded back into the cover as swiftly as he
had broken out of it. In the meantime Deerslayer had been swiftly
approaching the land, and his own canoe reached the point just as
his enemy disappeared. As its movements had not been directed, it
touched the shore a few yards from the other boat; and though the
rifle of his foe had to be loaded, there was not time to secure
his prize, and carry it beyond danger, before he would be exposed
to another shot. Under the circumstances, therefore, he did not
pause an instant, but dashed into the woods and sought a cover.
On the immediate point there was a small open area, partly in
native grass, and partly beach, but a dense fringe of bushes lined
its upper side. This narrow belt of dwarf vegetation passed, one
issued immediately into the high and gloomy vaults of the forest.
The land was tolerably level for a few hundred feet, and then it
rose precipitously in a mountainside. The trees were tall, large,
and so free from underbrush, that they resembled vast columns,
irregularly scattered, upholding a dome of leaves. Although they
stood tolerably close together, for their ages and size, the eye
could penetrate to considerable distances; and bodies of men, even,
might have engaged beneath their cover, with concert and intelligence.
Deerslayer knew that his adversary must be employed in reloading,
unless he had fled. The former proved to be the case, for the young
man had no sooner placed himself behind a tree, than he caught a
glimpse of the arm of the Indian, his body being concealed by an
oak, in the very act of forcing the leathered bullet home. Nothing
would have been easier than to spring forward, and decide the
affair by a close assault on his unprepared foe; but every feeling
of Deerslayer revolted at such a step, although his own life had
just been attempted from a cover. He was yet unpracticed in the
ruthless expedients of savage warfare, of which he knew nothing except
by tradition and theory, and it struck him as unfair advantage to
assail an unarmed foe. His color had heightened, his eye frowned,
his lips were compressed, and all his energies were collected and
ready; but, instead of advancing to fire, he dropped his rifle to
the usual position of a sportsman in readiness to catch his aim,
and muttered to himself, unconscious that he was speaking-
“No, no – that may be red-skin warfare, but it’s not a Christian’s
gifts. Let the miscreant charge, and then we’ll take it out like
men; for the canoe he must not, and shall not have. No, no; let
him have time to load, and God will take care of the right!”
All this time the Indian had been so intent on his own movements,
that he was even ignorant that his enemy was in the woods. His
only apprehension was, that the canoe would be recovered and carried
away before he might be in readiness to prevent it. He had sought
the cover from habit, but was within a few feet of the fringe
of bushes, and could be at the margin of the forest in readiness
to fire in a moment. The distance between him and his enemy was
about fifty yards, and the trees were so arranged by nature that
the line of sight was not interrupted, except by the particular
trees behind which each party stood.
His rifle was no sooner loaded, than the savage glanced around him,
and advanced incautiously as regarded the real, but stealthily as
respected the fancied position of his enemy, until he was fairly
exposed. Then Deerslayer stepped from behind its own cover, and
hailed him.
“This a way, red-skin; this a way, if you’re looking for me,” he
called out. “I’m young in war, but not so young as to stand on
an open beach to be shot down like an owl, by daylight. It rests
on yourself whether it’s peace or war atween us; for my gifts are
white gifts, and I’m not one of them that thinks it valiant to slay
human mortals, singly, in the woods.”
The savage was a good deal startled by this sudden discovery of
the danger he ran. He had a little knowledge of English, however,
and caught the drift of the other’s meaning. He was also too well
schooled to betray alarm, but, dropping the butt of his rifle to
the earth, with an air of confidence, he made a gesture of lofty
courtesy. All this was done with the ease and self-possession
of one accustomed to consider no man his superior. In the midst
of this consummate acting, however, the volcano that raged within
caused his eyes to glare, and his nostrils to dilate, like those
of some wild beast that is suddenly prevented from taking the fatal
leap.
“Two canoes,” he said, in the deep guttural tones of his race,
holding up the number of fingers he mentioned, by way of preventing
mistakes; “one for you –one for me.”
“No, no, Mingo, that will never do. You own neither; and neither
shall you have, as long as I can prevent it. I know it’s war atween
your people and mine, but that’s no reason why human mortals should
slay each other, like savage creatur’s that meet in the woods; go
your way, then, and leave me to go mine. The world is large enough
for us both; and when we meet fairly in battle, why, the Lord will
order the fate of each of us.”
“Good!” exclaimed the Indian; “my brother missionary – great talk;
all about Manitou.”
“Not so – not so, warrior. I’m not good enough for the Moravians,
and am too good for most of the other vagabonds that preach about
in the woods. No, no; I’m only a hunter, as yet, though afore the
peace is made, ’tis like enough there’ll be occasion to strike a
blow at some of your people. Still, I wish it to be done in fair
fight, and not in a quarrel about the ownership of a miserable
canoe.”
“Good! My brother very young – but he is very wise. Little warrior
– great talker. Chief, sometimes, in council.”
“I don’t know this, nor do I say it, Injin,” returned Deerslayer,
coloring a little at the ill-concealed sarcasm of the other’s
manner; “I look forward to a life in the woods, and I only hope
it may be a peaceable one. All young men must go on the war-path,
when there’s occasion, but war isn’t needfully massacre. I’ve
seen enough of the last, this very night, to know that Providence
frowns on it; and I now invite you to go your own way, while I go
mine; and hope that we may part fri’nds.”
“Good! My brother has two scalp – gray hair under ‘other. Old
wisdom – young tongue.”
Here the savage advanced with confidence, his hand extended, his
face smiling, and his whole bearing denoting amity and respect.
Deerslayer met his offered friendship in a proper spirit, and they
shook hands cordially, each endeavoring to assure the other of his
sincerity and desire to be at peace.
“All have his own,” said the Indian; “my canoe, mine; your canoe,
your’n. Go look; if your’n, you keep; if mine, I keep.”
“That’s just, red-skin; thought you must be wrong in thinking the
canoe your property. Howsever, seein’ is believin’, and we’ll go
down to the shore, where you may look with your own eyes; for it’s
likely you’ll object to trustin’ altogether to mine.”
The Indian uttered his favorite exclamation of “Good!” and then
they walked side by side, towards the shore. There was no apparent
distrust in the manner of either, the Indian moving in advance,
as if he wished to show his companion that he did not fear turning
his back to him. As they reached the open ground, the former
pointed towards Deerslayer’s boat, and said emphatically – “No mine
– pale-face canoe. This red man’s. No want other man’s canoe –
want his own.”
“You’re wrong, red-skin, you ‘re altogether wrong. This canoe was
left in old Hutter’s keeping, and is his’n according to law, red
or white, till its owner comes to claim it. Here’s the seats and
the stitching of the bark to speak for themselves. No man ever
know’d an Injin to turn off such work.”
“Good! My brother little old – big wisdom. Injin no make him.
White man’s work.”
“I’m glad you think so, for holding out to the contrary might have
made ill blood atween us, every one having a right to take possession
of his own. I’ll just shove the canoe out of reach of dispute at
once, as the quickest way of settling difficulties.”
While Deerslayer was speaking, he put a foot against the end of
the light boat, and giving a vigorous shove, he sent it out into
the lake a hundred feet or more, where, taking the true current,
it would necessarily float past the point, and be in no further
danger of coming ashore. The savage started at this ready and
decided expedient, and his companion saw that he cast a hurried
and fierce glance at his own canoe, or that which contained the
paddles. The change of manner, however, was but momentary, and
then the Iroquois resumed his air of friendliness, and a smile of
satisfaction.
“Good!” he repeated, with stronger emphasis than ever. “Young head,
old mind. Know how to settle quarrel. Farewell, brother. He go
to house in water-muskrat house – Injin go to camp; tell chiefs no
find canoe.”
Deerslayer was not sorry to hear this proposal, for he felt anxious
to join the females, and he took the offered hand of the Indian
very willingly. The parting words were friendly, and while the red
man walked calmly towards the wood, with the rifle in the hollow of
his arm, without once looking back in uneasiness or distrust, the
white man moved towards the remaining canoe, carrying his piece in
the same pacific manner, it is true, but keeping his eye fastened
on the movements of the other. This distrust, however, seemed to
be altogether uncalled for, and as if ashamed to have entertained
it, the young man averted his look, and stepped carelessly up to
his boat. Here he began to push the canoe from the shore, and to
make his other preparations for departing. He might have been thus
employed a minute, when, happening to turn his face towards the
land, his quick and certain eye told him, at a glance, the imminent
jeopardy in which his life was placed. The black, ferocious eyes
of the savage were glancing on him, like those of the crouching
tiger, through a small opening in the bushes and the muzzle of
his rifle seemed already to be opening in a line with his own body.
Then, indeed, the long practice of Deerslayer, as a hunter did
him good service. Accustomed to fire with the deer on the bound,
and often when the precise position of the animal’s body had in a
manner to be guessed at, he used the same expedients here. To cock
and poise his rifle were the acts of a single moment and a single
motion: then aiming almost without sighting, he fired into the
bushes where he knew a body ought to be, in order to sustain the
appalling countenance which alone was visible. There was not time
to raise the piece any higher, or to take a more deliberate aim. So
rapid were his movements that both parties discharged their pieces
at the same instant, the concussions mingling in one report. The
mountains, indeed, gave back but a single echo. Deerslayer dropped
his piece, and stood with head erect, steady as one of the pines
in the calm of a June morning, watching the result; while the
savage gave the yell that has become historical for its appalling
influence, leaped through the bushes, and came bounding across the
open ground, flourishing a tomahawk. Still Deerslayer moved not,
but stood with his unloaded rifle fallen against his shoulders,
while, with a hunter’s habits, his hands were mechanically feeling
for the powder-horn and charger. When about forty feet from his
enemy, the savage hurled his keen weapon; but it was with an eye
so vacant, and a hand so unsteady and feeble, that the young man
caught it by the handle as it was flying past him. At that instant
the Indian staggered and fell his whole length on the ground.
“I know’d it – I know’d it!” exclaimed Deerslayer, who was already
preparing to force a fresh bullet into his rifle; “I know’d it must
come to this, as soon as I had got the range from the creatur’s
eyes. A man sights suddenly, and fires quick when his own life’s
in danger; yes, I know’d it would come to this. I was about the
hundredth part of a second too quick for him, or it might have
been bad for me! The riptyle’s bullet has just grazed my side -but
say what you will for or ag’in ’em, a red-skin is by no means as
sartain with powder and ball as a white man. Their gifts don’t
seem to lie that a way. Even Chingachgook, great as he is in other
matters, isn’t downright deadly with the rifle.”
By this time the piece was reloaded, and Deerslayer, after tossing
the tomahawk into the canoe, advanced to his victim, and stood
over him, leaning on his rifle, in melancholy attention. It was
the first instance in which he ha seen a man fall in battle – it
was the first fellow-creature against whom he had ever seriously
raised his own hand. The sensations were novel; and regret, with
the freshness of our better feelings, mingled with his triumph.
The Indian was not dead, though shot directly through the body. He
lay on his back motionless, but his eyes, now full of consciousness,
watched each action of his victor – as the fallen bird regards the
fowler – jealous of every movement. The man probably expected the
fatal blow which was to precede the loss of his scalp; or perhaps
he anticipated that this latter act of cruelty would precede his
death. Deerslayer read his thoughts; and he found a melancholy
satisfaction in relieving the apprehensions of the helpless savage.
“No, no, red-skin,” he said; “you’ve nothing more to fear from me.
I am of a Christian stock, and scalping is not of my gifts. I’ll
just make sartain of your rifle, and then come back and do you
what sarvice I can. Though here I can’t stay much longer, as the
crack of three rifles will be apt to bring some of your devils down
upon me.”
The close of this was said in a sort of a soliloquy, as the young
man went in quest of the fallen rifle. The piece was found where
its owner had dropped it, and was immediately put into the canoe.
Laying his own rifle at its side, Deerslayer then returned and
stood over the Indian again.
“All inmity atween you and me’s at an ind red-skin,” he said; “and
you may set your heart at rest on the score of the scalp, or any
further injury. My gifts are white, as I’ve told you; and I hope
my conduct will be white also.”
Could looks have conveyed all they meant, it is probable Deerslayer’s
innocent vanity on the subject of color would have been rebuked
a little; but he comprehended the gratitude that was expressed in
the eyes of the dying savage, without in the least detecting the
bitter sarcasm that struggled with the better feeling.
“Water!” ejaculated the thirsty and unfortunate creature; “give
poor Injin water.”
“Ay, water you shall have, if you drink the lake dry. I’ll just
carry you down to it that you may take your fill. This is the way,
they tell me, with all wounded people – water is their greatest
comfort and delight.”
So saying, Deerslayer raised the Indian in his arms, and carried
him to the lake. Here he first helped him to take an attitude in
which he could appease his burning thirst; after which he seated
himself on a stone, and took the head of his wounded adversary in
his own lap, and endeavored to soothe his anguish in the best manner
he could.
“It would be sinful in me to tell you your time hadn’t come,
warrior,” he commenced, “and therefore I’ll not say it. You’ve
passed the middle age already, and, considerin’ the sort of lives
ye lead, your days have been pretty well filled. The principal
thing now, is to look forward to what comes next. Neither red-skin
nor pale-face, on the whole, calculates much on sleepin’ forever;
but both expect to live in another world. Each has his gifts, and
will be judged by ’em, and I suppose you’ve thought these matters
over enough not to stand in need of sarmons when the trial comes.
You’ll find your happy hunting-grounds, if you’ve been a just Injin;
if an onjust, you’ll meet your desarts in another way. I’ve my
own idees about these things; but you’re too old and exper’enced
to need any explanations from one as young as I.”
“Good!” ejaculated the Indian, whose voice retained its depth even
as life ebbed away; “young head – old wisdom!”
“It’s sometimes a consolation, when the ind comes, to know that
them we’ve harmed, or tried to harm, forgive us. I suppose natur’
seeks this relief, by way of getting a pardon on ‘arth; as we never
can know whether He pardons, who is all in all, till judgment itself
comes. It’s soothing to know that any pardon at such times; and
that, I conclude, is the secret. Now, as for myself, I overlook
altogether your designs ag’in my life; first, because no harm came
of ’em; next, because it’s your gifts, and natur’, and trainin’, and
I ought not to have trusted you at all; and, finally and chiefly,
because I can bear no ill-will to a dying man, whether heathen or
Christian. So put your heart at ease, so far as I’m consarned; you
know best what other matters ought to trouble you, or what ought
to give you satisfaction in so trying a moment.”
It is probable that the Indian had some of the fearful glimpses of
the unknown state of being which God, in mercy, seems at times to
afford to all the human race; but they were necessarily in conformity
with his habits and prejudices Like most of his people, and like
too many of our own, he thought more of dying in a way to gain
applause among those he left than to secure a better state of
existence hereafter. While Deerslayer was speaking, his mind was
a little bewildered, though he felt that the intention was good;
and when he had done, a regret passed over his spirit that none of
his own tribe were present to witness his stoicism, under extreme
bodily suffering, and the firmness with which he met his end.
With the high innate courtesy that so often distinguishes the
Indian warrior before he becomes corrupted by too much intercourse
with the worst class of the white men, he endeavored to express
his thankfulness for the other’s good intentions, and to let him
understand that they were appreciated.
“Good!” he repeated, for this was an English word much used by the
savages, “good! young head; young heart, too. Old heart tough;
no shed tear. Hear Indian when he die, and no want to lie – what
he call him?”
“Deerslayer is the name I bear now, though the Delawares have said
that when I get back from this war-path, I shall have a more manly
title, provided I can ‘arn one.”
“That good name for boy – poor name for warrior. He get better
quick. No fear there,” – the savage had strength sufficient, under
the strong excitement he felt, to raise a hand and tap the young
man on his breast, – “eye sartain -finger lightning – aim, death
– great warrior soon. No Deerslayer – Hawkeye -Hawkeye – Hawkeye.
Shake hand.”
Deerslayer – or Hawkeye, as the youth was then first named, for
in after years he bore the appellation throughout all that region
– Deerslayer took the hand of the savage, whose last breath was
drawn in that attitude, gazing in admiration at the countenance of
a stranger, who had shown so much readiness, skill, and firmness,
in a scene that was equally trying and novel. When the reader
remembers it is the highest gratification an Indian can receive to
see his enemy betray weakness, he will be better able to appreciate
the conduct which had extorted so great a concession at such a
moment.
“His spirit has fled!” said Deerslayer, in a suppressed, melancholy
voice. “Ah’s me! Well, to this we must all come, sooner or later;
and he is happiest, let his skin be what color it may, who is best
fitted to meet it. Here lies the body of no doubt a brave warrior,
and the soul is already flying towards its heaven or hell, whether
that be a happy hunting ground, a place scant of game, regions of
glory, according to Moravian doctrine, or flames of fire! So it
happens, too, as regards other matters! Here have old Hutter and
Hurry Harry got themselves into difficulty, if they haven’t got
themselves into torment and death, and all for a bounty that luck
offers to me in what many would think a lawful and suitable manner.
But not a farthing of such money shall cross my hand. White I was
born, and white will I die; clinging to color to the last, even
though the King’s majesty, his governors, and all his councils,
both at home and in the colonies, forget from what they come, and
where they hope to go, and all for a little advantage in warfare.
No, no, warrior, hand of mine shall never molest your scalp, and
so your soul may rest in peace on the p’int of making a decent
appearance when the body comes to join it, in your own land of
spirits.”
Deerslayer arose as soon as he had spoken. Then he placed the body
of the dead man in a sitting posture, with its back against the
little rock, taking the necessary care to prevent it from falling
or in any way settling into an attitude that might be thought
unseemly by the sensitive, though wild notions of a savage. When
this duty was performed, the young man stood gazing at the grim
countenance of his fallen foe, in a sort of melancholy abstraction.
As was his practice, however, a habit gained by living so much
alone in the forest, he then began again to give utterance to his
thoughts and feelings aloud.
“I didn’t wish your life, red-skin,” he said “but you left me no
choice atween killing or being killed. Each party acted according
to his gifts, I suppose, and blame can light on neither. You were
treacherous, according to your natur’ in war, and I was a little
oversightful, as I’m apt to be in trusting others. Well, this is
my first battle with a human mortal, though it’s not likely to be
the last. I have fou’t most of the creatur’s of the forest, such as
bears, wolves, painters, and catamounts, but this is the beginning
with the red-skins. If I was Injin born, now, I might tell of
this, or carry in the scalp, and boast of the expl’ite afore the
whole tribe; or, if my inimy had only been even a bear, ‘twould have
been nat’ral and proper to let everybody know what had happened;
but I don’t well see how I’m to let even Chingachgook into this
secret, so long as it can be done only by boasting with a white
tongue. And why should I wish to boast of it a’ter all? It’s
slaying a human, although he was a savage; and how do I know that
he was a just Injin; and that he has not been taken away suddenly
to anything but happy hunting-grounds. When it’s onsartain whether
good or evil has been done, the wisest way is not to be boastful –
still, I should like Chingachgook to know that I haven’t discredited
the Delawares, or my training!”
Part of this was uttered aloud, while part was merely muttered
between the speaker’s teeth; his more confident opinions enjoying
the first advantage, while his doubts were expressed in the latter
mode. Soliloquy and reflection received a startling interruption,
however, by the sudden appearance of a second Indian on the lake
shore, a few hundred yards from the point. This man, evidently
another scout, who had probably been drawn to the place by
the reports of the rifles, broke out of the forest with so little
caution that Deerslayer caught a view of his person before he was
himself discovered. When the latter event did occur, as was the
case a moment later, the savage gave a loud yell, which was answered
by a dozen voices from different parts of the mountainside. There
was no longer any time for delay; in another minute the boat was
quitting the shore under long and steady sweeps of the paddle.
As soon as Deerslayer believed himself to be at a safe distance he
ceased his efforts, permitting the little bark to drift, while he
leisurely took a survey of the state of things. The canoe first
sent adrift was floating before the air, quite a quarter of a mile
above him, and a little nearer to the shore than he wished, now
that he knew more of the savages were so near at hand. The canoe
shoved from the point was within a few yards of him, he having
directed his own course towards it on quitting the land. The dead
Indian lay in grim quiet where he had left him, the warrior who had
shown himself from the forest had already vanished, and the woods
themselves were as silent and seemingly deserted as the day they
came fresh from the hands of their great Creator. This profound
stillness, however, lasted but a moment. When time had been given
to the scouts of the enemy to reconnoitre, they burst out of the
thicket upon the naked point, filling the air with yells of fury
at discovering the death of their companion. These cries were
immediately succeeded by shouts of delight when they reached the
body and clustered eagerly around it. Deerslayer was a sufficient
adept in the usages of the natives to understand the reason of the
change. The yell was the customary lamentation at the loss of a
warrior, the shout a sign of rejoicing …