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Literature Post > Cooper, James Fenimore > The Pioneers > Chapter 27

The Pioneers by Cooper, James Fenimore - Chapter 27

CHAPTER XXVII.



“Oft in the full descending flood he tries
To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides.”—Thomson.

“I knowed it—I knowed it!” cried Natty, when both deer and hounds were
in full view; “ the buck has gone by them with the wind, and it has
been too much for the poor rogues; but I must break them of these
tricks, or they’ll give me a deal of trouble. He-ere, he-ere—shore.
with you, rascals—shore with you—will ye? Oh! off with you, old
Hector, or I'll hackle your hide with my ramrod when I get ye.”

The dogs knew their master’s voice, and after swimming in a circle, as
if reluctant to give over the chase, and yet afraid to persevere, they
finally obeyed, and returned to the land, where they filled the air
with their cries.

In the mean time the deer, urged by his fears, had swum over half the
distance between the shore and the boats, before his terror permitted
him to see the new danger. But at the sounds of Natty’s voice, he
turned short in his course and for a few moments seemed about to rush
back again, and brave the dogs. His retreat in this direction was,
however, effectually cut off, and, turning a second time, he urged his
course obliquely for the centre of the lake, with an intention of
landing on the western shore. As the buck swam by the fishermen,
raising his nose high into the air, curling the water before his slim
neck like the beak of a galley, the Leather-Stocking began to sit very
uneasy in his canoe.

“‘Tis a noble creatur’!” he exclaimed; “what a pair of horns! a man
might hang up all his garments on the branches. Let me see—July is
the last month, and the flesh must be getting good.” While he was
talking, Natty had instinctively employed himself in fastening the
inner end of the bark rope, that served him for a cable, to a paddle,
and, rising suddenly on his legs, he cast this buoy away. and cried;
“Strike out, John! let her go. The creatur’s a fool to tempt a man in
this way.

Mohegan threw the fastening of the youth’s boat from the canoe, and
with one stroke of his paddle sent the light bark over the water like
a meteor.

“Hold!” exclaimed Edwards. “ Remember the law, my old friends. You
are in plain sight of the village, and I know that Judge Temple is
determined to prosecute all, indiscriminately, who kill deer out of
season.”

The remonstrance came too late; the canoe was already far from the
skiff, and the two hunters were too much engaged in the pursuit to
listen to his voice.

The buck was now within fifty yards of his pursuers, cutting the water
gallantly, and snorting at each breath with terror and his exertions,
while the canoe seemed to dance over the waves as it rose and fell
with the undulations made by its own motion. Leather-Stocking raised
his rifle and freshened the priming, but stood in suspense whether to
slay his victim or not.

“Shall I, John or no?” he said. “It seems but a poor advantage to
take of the dumb thing, too. I won’t; it has taken to the water on
its own natur’, which is the reason that God has given to a deer, and
I’ll give it the lake play; so, John, lay out your arm, and mind the
turn of the buck; it’s easy to catch them, but they’ll turn like a
snake.”

The Indian laughed at the conceit of his friend, but continued to send
the canoe forward with a velocity’ that proceeded much more from skill
than his strength. Both of the old men now used the language of the
Delawares when they spoke.

“Hugh!” exclaimed Mohegan; “the deer turns his head. Hawk-eye, lift
your spear.”

Natty never moved abroad without taking with him every implement that
might, by possibility, be of service in his pursuits. From his rifle
he never parted; and although intending to fish with the line, the
canoe was invariably furnished with all of its utensils, even to its
grate This precaution grew out of the habits of the hunter, who was
often led, by his necessities or his sports, far beyond the limits of
his original destination. A few years earlier than the date of our
tale, the Leather-Stocking had left his hut on the shores of the
Otsego, with his rifle and his hounds, for a few days’ hunting in the
hills; but before he returned he had seen the waters of Ontario. One,
two, or even three hundred miles had once been nothing to his sinews,
which were now a little stiffened by age. The hunter did as Mohegan
advised, and prepared to strike a blow with the barbed weapon into the
neck of the buck.

“Lay her more to the left, John,” he cried, “lay her more to the left;
another stroke of the paddle and I have him.”

While speaking he raised the spear, and darted it front him like an
arrow. At that instant the buck turned, the long pole glanced by him,
the iron striking against his horn, and buried itself harmlessly in
the lake.

“Back water,” cried Natty, as the canoe glided over the place where
the spear had fallen; “hold water, John.”

The pole soon reappeared, shooting up from the lake, and, as the
hunter seized it in his hand, the Indian whirled the light canoe
round, and renewed the chase. But this evolution gave the buck a
great advantage; and it also allowed time for Edwards to approach the
scene of action.

“Hold your hand, Natty!” cried the youth, “hold your hand; remember it
is out of season.”

This remonstrance was made as the batteau arrived close to the place
where the deer was struggling with the water, his back now rising to
the surface, now sinking beneath it, as the waves curled from his
neck, the animal still sustaining itself nobly against the odds,

“Hurrah!” shouted Edwards, inflamed beyond prudence at the sight;
“mind him as he doubles—mind him as he doubles; sheer more to the
right, Mohegan, more to the right, and I’ll have him by the horns;
I'll throw the rope over his antlers.”

The dark eye of the old warrior was dancing in his head with a wild
animation, and the sluggish repose in which his aged frame had been
resting in the canoe was now changed to all the rapid inflections of
practiced agility. The canoe whirled with each cunning evolution of
the chase, like a bubble floating in a whirlpool; and when the
direction of the pursuit admitted of a straight course the little bark
skimmed the lake with a velocity that urged the deer to seek its
safety in some new turn.

It was the frequency of these circuitous movements that, by confining
the action to so small a compass, enabled the youth to keep near his
companions. More than twenty times both the pursued and the pursuer
glided by him, just without the reach of his oars, until he thought
the best way to view the sport was to remain stationary, and, by
watching a favorable opportunity, assist as much as he could in taking
the victim.

He was not required to wait long, for no sooner had he adopted this
resolution, and risen in the boat, than he saw the deer coming bravely
toward him, with an apparent intention of pushing for a point of land
at some distance from the hounds, who were still barking and howling
on the shore. Edwards caught the painter of his skiff, and, making a
noose, cast it from him with all his force, and luckily succeeded in
drawing its knot close around one of the antlers of the buck.

For one instant the skiff was drawn through the water, but in the next
the canoe glided before it, and Natty, bending low, passed his knife
across the throat of the animal, whose blood followed the wound,
dyeing the waters. The short time that was passed in the last
struggles of the animal was spent by the hunters in bringing their
boats together and securing them in that position, when Leather-
Stocking drew the deer from the water and laid its lifeless form in
the bottom of the canoe. He placed his hands on the ribs, and on
different parts of the body of his prize, and then, raising his head,
he laughed in his peculiar manner.

“So much for Marmaduke Temple's law!” he said, “This warms a body’s
blood, old John: I haven’t killed a buck in the lake afore this, sin’
many a year. I call that good venison, lad: and I know them that will
relish the creatur’s steaks for all the betterments in the land.”

The Indian had long been drooping with his years, and perhaps under
the calamities of his race, but this invigorating and exciting sport
caused a gleam of sunshine to cross his swarthy face that had long
been absent from his features. it was evident the old man enjoyed the
chase more as a memorial of his youthful sports and deeds than with
any expectation of profiting by the success. He felt the deer,
however, lightly, his hand already trembling with the reaction of his
unusual exertions, and smiled with a nod of approbation, as he said,
in the emphatic and sententious manner of his people:

“Good.”

“I am afraid, Natty,” said Edwards, when the heat of the moment had
passed, and his blood began to cool, “that we have all been equally
transgressors of the law. But keep your own counsel, and there are
none here to betray us. Yet how came those dogs at large? I left them
securely fastened, I know, for I felt the thongs and examined the
knots when I was at the hunt.”

“It has been too much for the poor things,” said Natty, “to have such
a buck take the wind of them. See, lad, the pieces of the buckskin
are hanging from their necks yet. Let us paddle up, John, and I will
call them in and look a little into the matter.”

When the old hunter landed and examined the thongs that were yet fast
to the hounds, his countenance sensibly changed, and he shook his head
doubtingly.

“Here has been a knife at work,” he said; “this skin was never torn,
nor is this the mark of a hound’s tooth. No, no—Hector is not in
fault, as I feared.”

“Has the leather been cut?” cried Edwards.

“No, no—I didn’t say it had been cut, lad; but this is a mark that was
never made by a jump or a bite.”

“Could that rascally carpenter have dared!”

“Ay! he durst do anything when there is no danger,” said Natty; “he is
a curious body, and loves to be helping other people on with their
consarns. But he had best not harbor so much near the wigwam!”

In the mean time, Mohegan had been examining, with an Indian’s
sagacity, the place where the leather thong had been separated. After
scrutinizing it closely, he said, in Delaware:

“It was cut with a knife—a sharp blade and a long handle—the man was
afraid of the dogs.”

“How is this, Mohegan?” exclaimed Edwards; “you saw it not! how can
you know these facts?”

“Listen, son,” said the warrior. “The knife was sharp, for the cut
was smooth; the handle was long, for a man’s arm would not reach from
this gash to the cut that did not go through the skin; he was a
coward, or he would have cut the thongs around the necks of the
hounds.”
On my life,” cried Natty, “John is on the scent! It was the carpenter;
and he has got on the rock back of the kennel and let the dogs loose
by fastening his knife to a stick. It would be an easy matter to do
it where a man is so minded.”

“And why should he do so?” asked Edwards; “who has done him wrong,
that he should trouble two old men like you?”

“It’s a hard matter, lad, to know men’s ways, I find, since the
settlers have brought in their new fashions, But is there nothing to
be found out in the place? and maybe he is troubled with his longings
after other people’s business, as he often is”

“Your suspicions are just. Give me the canoe; I am young and strong.
and will get down there yet, perhaps, in time to interrupt his plans.
Heaven forbid that we should be at the mercy of such a man!”

His proposal was accepted, the deer being placed in the skiff in order
to lighten the canoe, and in less than five minutes the little vessel
of bark was gilding over the glassy lake, and was soon hid by the
points of land as it shot close along the shore.

Mohegan followed slowly with the skiff, while Natty called his hounds
to him, bade them keep close, and, shouldering his rifle, he ascended
the mountain, with an intention of going to the hut by land.