The Last of the Mohicans. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
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words were still in the mouth of the scout, when the leader of the party, whose approaching footsteps had caught the vigilant ear of the Indian, came openly into view. A beaten path, such as those made by the periodical passage of the deer, wound through a little glen at no great distance, and struck the river at the point where the white man and his red companions had posted themselves. Along this track the travellers, who had produced a surprise so unusual in the depths of the forest, advanced slowly towards the hunter, who was in front of his associates, in readiness to receive them.
‘Who comes?’ demanded the scout, throwing his rifle carelessly across his left arm, and keeping the forefinger of his right hand on the trigger, though he avoided all appearance of menace in the act, ‘Who comes hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?’
‘Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the king,’ returned he who rode foremost. ‘Men who have journeyed since the rising sun, in the shades of this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired of their wayfaring.’
‘You are, then, lost,’ interrupted the hunter; ‘and have found how helpless ’Tis not to know whether to take the right hand or the left?’
‘Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide them than we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess the stature without the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to a post of the crown called William Henry?’
‘Hoot!’ shouted the scout, who did not spare his open laughter, though, instantly checking the dangerous sounds, he indulged his merriment at less risk of being overheard by any lurking enemies. ‘You are as much off the scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer! William Henry, man! if you are friends to the king, and have business with the army, your better way would be to follow the river down to Edward, and lay the matter before Webb, who tarries there, instead of pushing into the defiles, and driving this saucy Frenchman back across Champlain, into his den again.’
Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected proposition, another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and leaped his charger into the pathway, in front of his companion.
‘What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?’ demanded a new speaker; ‘the place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and our destination is the head of the lake.’
‘Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way, for the road across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a path, I calculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the palace of the king himself.’
‘We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the passage,’ returned Heyward, smiling; for, as the reader has anticipated, it was he. ‘It is enough, for the present, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in his knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are.’
‘An Indian lost in the woods!’ said the scout, shaking his head doubtingly; ‘when the sun is scorching the tree tops, and the watercourses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees, will tell him in which quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods are full of deer paths which run to the streams and licks, places well known to everybody; nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters altogether! ’Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican and the bend in the river! Is he a Mohawk?’
‘Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace was farther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron.’
‘Hugh!’ exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who had continued, until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable, and apparently indifferent to what passed, but who now sprang to their feet with an activity and interest that had evidently got the better of their reserve, by a surprise.
‘A Huron!’ repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his head in open distrust; ‘they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they are adopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds. Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only wonder that you have not fallen in with more.’
‘Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles in our front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk, and that he serves with our forces as a friend.’
‘And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo,’ returned the other, positively. ‘A Mohawk! No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won’t all do, having suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women—but when they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a warrior!’
‘Enough of this,’ said Heyward, impatiently; ‘I wish not to inquire into the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be a stranger. You have not yet answered my question; what is our distance from the main army at Edward?’
‘It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such a horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down.’
‘I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend,’ said Heyward, curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a more gentle voice; ‘if you will tell me the distance to Fort Edward, and conduct me thither, your labour shall not go without its reward.’
‘And in so doing, how know I that I don’t guide an enemy, and a spy of Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak the English tongue that is an honest subject.’
‘If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, you should know of such a regiment of the king as the 60th.’
‘The 60th! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans that I don’t know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket.’
‘Well, then, among other things, you may know the name of its major?’
‘Its major?’ interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like one who was proud of his trust. ‘If there is a man in the country who knows Major Effingham, he stands before you.’
‘It is a corp which has many majors; the gentleman you name is the senior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the companies in garrison at William Henry.’
‘Yes, yes; I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from one of the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant gentleman!’
‘Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his rank, he now speaks to you, and of course can be no enemy to dread.’
The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then, lifting his cap, he answered, in a tone less confident than before, though still expressing doubt—
‘I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this morning for the lake shore?’
‘You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting to the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned.’
‘And he deceived you, and then deserted?’
‘Neither as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is to be found in the rear.’
‘I should like to look at the creatur’; if it is a true Iroquois I can tell him by his knavish look, and by his paint,’ said the scout, stepping past the charger of Heyward, and entering the path behind the mare of the singing-master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt to exact the maternal contribution. After shoving aside the bushes, and proceeding a few paces, he encountered the females, who awaited the result of the conference with anxiety, and not entirely without apprehension. Behind these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he stood the close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself excite fear. Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answering to the smile and nod of Alice