CHAPTER 16

“Watch (aside).  Some treason, masters—
Yet stand close.”—Much Ado About Nothing.

It was fortunate for more than one of the bacchanalians who left the
“Bold Dragoon” late in the evening that the severe cold of the season
was becoming rapidly less dangerous as they threaded the different
mazes through the snow-banks that led to their respective dwellings.
Then driving clouds began toward morning to flit across the heavens,
and the moon set behind a volume of vapor that was impelled furiously
toward the north, carrying with it the softer atmosphere from the
distant ocean.  The rising sun was obscured by denser and increasing
columns of clouds, while the southerly wind that rushed up the valley
brought the never-failing symptoms of a thaw.

It was quite late in the morning before Elizabeth, observing the faint
glow which appeared on the eastern mountain long after the light of
the sun had struck the opposite hills, ventured from the house, with a
view to gratify her curiosity with a glance by daylight at the
surrounding objects before the tardy revellers of the Christmas eve
should make their appearance at the breakfast- table.  While she was
drawing the folds of her pelisse more closely around her form, to
guard against a cold that was yet great though rapidly yielding, in
the small inclosure that opened in the rear of the house on a little
thicket of low pines that were springing up where trees of a mightier
growth had lately stood, she was surprised at the voice of Mr. Jones.

“Merry Christmas, merry Christmas to you, Cousin Bess,” he shouted.
“Ah, ha! an early riser, I see; but I knew I should steal a march on
you.  I never was in a house yet where I didn’t get the first
Christmas greeting on every soul in it, man, woman, and child—great
and small—black, white, and yellow.  But stop a minute till I can just
slip on my coat.  You are about to look at the improvements, I see,
which no one can explain so well as I, who planned them all.  It will
be an hour before ‘Duke and the Major can sleep off Mrs. Hollister’s
confounded distillations, and so I’ll come down and go with you.

Elizabeth turned and observed her cousin in his night cap, with his
head out of his bedroom window, where his zeal for pre-eminence, in
defiance of the weather, had impelled him to thrust it.  She laughed,
and promising to wait for his company re-entered the house, making her
appearance again, holding in her hand a packet that was secured by
several large and important seals, just in time to meet the gentleman.

“Come, Bessy, come,” he cried, drawing one of her arms through his
own; “ the snow begins to give, but it will bear us yet.  Don’t you
snuff old Pennsylvania in the very air? This is a vile climate, girl;
now at sunset, last evening, it was cold enough to freeze a man’s
zeal, and that, I can tell you, takes a thermometer near zero for me;
then about nine or ten it began to moderate; at twelve it was quite
mild, and here all the rest of the night I have been so hot as not to
bear a blanket on the bed.  —Holla! Aggy—merry Christmas, Aggy—I say,
do you hear me, you black dog! there’s a dollar for you; and if the
gentle men get up before I come back, do you come out and let me know.
I wouldn’t have 'Duke get the start of me for the worth of your head.”

The black caught the money from the snow, and promising a due degree
of watchfulness, he gave the dollar a whirl of twenty feet in the air,
and catching it as it fell in the palm of his hand, he withdrew to the
kitchen, to exhibit his present, with a heart as light as his face was
happy in its expression.

“Oh, rest easy, my dear coz,” said the young lady; “I took a look in
at my father, who is likely to sleep an hour; and by using due
vigilance you will secure all the honors of the season.”

“Why, Duke is your father, Elizabeth ; but ‘Duke is a man who likes to
be foremost, even in trifles.  Now, as for myself, I care for no such
things, except in the way of competition; for a thing which is of no
moment in itself may be made of importance in the way of competition.
So it is with your father—he loves to he first; but I only; struggle
with him as a competitor.”

“It’s all very clear, sir,” said Elizabeth; “you would not care a fig
for distinction if there were no one in the world but yourself; but as
there happens to be a great many others, why, you must struggle with
them all—in the way of competition.”

“Exactly so; I see you are a clever girl, Bess, and one who does
credit to her masters.  It was my plan to send you to that school; for
when your father first mentioned the thing, I wrote a private letter
for advice to a judicious friend in the city, who recommended the very
school you went to.  ‘Duke was a little obstinate at first, as usual,
but when he heard the truth he was obliged to send you.”

“Well, a truce to ‘Duke’s foibles, sir; he is my father, and if you
knew what he has been doing for you while we were in Albany, you would
deal more tenderly with his character.”

“For me!” cried Richard, pausing a moment in his walk to reflect.
“Oh! he got the plans of the new Dutch meeting-house for me, I
suppose; but I care very little about it, for a man of a certain kind
of talent is seldom aided by any foreign suggestions; his own brain is
the best architect.”

“No such thing,” said Elizabeth, looking provokingly knowing.

“No! let me see—perhaps he had my name put in the bill for the new
turnpike, as a director.”

“He might possibly; but it is not to such an appointment that I
allude.”

“Such an appointment!” repeated Mr. Jones, who began to fidget with
curiosity; “then it is an appointment.  If it is in the militia, I
won’t take it.

“No, no, it is not in the militia,” cried Elizabeth, showing the
packet in her hand, and then drawing it back with a coquettish air;
“it is an office of both honor and emolument.”

“Honor and emolument!” echoed Richard, in painful suspense; “show me
the paper, girl.  Say, is it an office where there is anything to do?”

“You have hit it, Cousin Dickon; it is the executive office of the
county; at least so said my father when he gave me this packet to
offer you as a Christmas-box.  Surely, if anything will please
Dickon,’ he said, ‘it will be to fill the executive chair of the
county.’”

“Executive chair! what nonsense!” cried the impatient gentleman,
snatching the packet from her hand; “there is no such office in the
county.  Eh! what! it is, I declare, a commission, appointing Richard
Jones, Esquire, sheriff of the county.  Well, this is kind in ‘Duke,
positively.  I must say ‘Duke has a warm heart, and never forgets his
friends.  Sheriff! High Sheriff of —! it sounds well, Bess, but it
shall execute better.  ‘Duke is a judicious man after all, and knows
human nature thoroughly, I’m much obliged to him,” continued Richard,
using the skirt of his coat unconsciously to wipe his eyes; “though I
would do as much for him any day, as he shall see, if I have an
opportunity to perform any of the duties of my office on him.  It
shall be done, Cousin Bess----it shall be done, I say.  How this
cursed south wind makes one’s eyes water!”

“Now, Richard,” said the laughing maiden, “now I think you will find
something to do.  I have often heard you complain of old that there
was nothing to do in this new country, while to my eyes it seemed as
if everything remained to be done.”

“Do!” echoed Richard, who blew his nose, raised his little form to its
greatest elevation, and looked serious.  “Everything depends on
system, girl.  I shall sit down this afternoon and systematize the
county.  I must have deputies, you know.  I will divide the county
into districts, over which I will place my deputies; and I will have
one for the village, which I will call my home department.  Let me
see—ho! Benjamin! yes, Benjamin will make a good deputy; he has been
naturalized, and would answer admirably if he could only ride on
horseback.”

“Yes, Mr. Sheriff,” said his companion; “and as he understands ropes
so well, he would be very expert, should occasion happen for his
services in another way.”

“No,” interrupted the other; “I flatter myself that no man could hang
a man better than—that is—ha!—oh! yes, Benjamin would do extremely
well in such an unfortunate dilemma, if he could be persuaded to
attempt it.  But I should despair of the thing.  I never could induce
him to hang, or teach him to ride on horseback.  I must seek another
deputy.”
“Well, sir, as you have abundant leisure for all these important
affairs, I beg that you will forget that you are high sheriff, and
devote some little of your time to gallantry.  Where are the beauties
and improvements which you were to show me?”

“Where? why, everywhere! Here I have laid out some new streets; and
when they are opened, and the trees felled, and they are all built up,
will they not make a fine town? Well, ‘Duke is a liberal-hearted
fellow, with all his stubbornness.  Yes, yes; I must have at least
four deputies, besides a jailer.”

“I see no streets in the direction of our walk,” said Elizabeth,
“unless you call the short avenues through these pine bushes by that
name.  Surely you do not contemplate building houses, very soon, in
that forest before us, and in those swamps.”

We must run our streets by the compass, coz, and disregard trees,
hills, ponds, stumps, or, in fact, anything but posterity.  Such is
the will of your father, and your father, you know——”

“Had you made sheriff, Mr. Jones,” interrupted the lady, with a tone
that said very plainly to the gentleman that he was touching a
forbidden subject.

“I know it, I know it,” cried Richard; “and if it were in my power,
I’d make ‘Duke a king.  He is a noble hearted fellow, and would make
an excellent king; that is, if he had a good prime minister.  But who
have we here? voices in the bushes—a combination about mischief, I’ll
wager my commission.  Let us draw near and examine a little into the
matter.”

During this dialogue, as the parties had kept in motion, Richard and
his cousin advanced some distance from the house into the open space
in the rear of the village, where, as may be gathered from the
conversation, streets were planned and future dwellings contemplated;
but where, in truth, the only mark of improvement that was to be seen
was a neglected clearing along the skirt of a dark forest of mighty
pines, over which the bushes or sprouts of the same tree had sprung up
to a height that interspersed the fields of snow with little thickets
of evergreen.  The rushing of the wind, as it whistled through the
tops of these mimic trees, prevented the footsteps of the pair from
being heard, while the branches concealed their persons.  Thus aided,
the listeners drew nigh to a spot where the young hunter, Leather-
Stocking, and the Indian chief were collected in an earnest
consultation.  The former was urgent in his manner, and seemed to
think the subject of deep importance, while Natty appeared to listen
with more than his usual attention to what the other was saying.
Mohegan stood a little on one side, with his head sunken on his chest,
his hair falling forward so as to conceal most of his features, and
his whole attitude expressive of deep dejection, if not of shame.
Let us withdraw,” whispered Elizabeth; “ we are intruders, and can
have no right to listen to the secrets of these men.”

“No right!” returned Richard a little impatiently, in the same tone,
and drawing her arm so forcibly through his own as to prevent her
retreat; “you forget, cousin, that it is my duty to preserve the peace
of the county and see the laws executed, these wanderers frequently
commit depredations, though I do not think John would do anything
secretly.  Poor fellow! he was quite boozy last night, and hardly
seems to be over it yet.  Let us draw nigher and hear what they say.”

Notwithstanding the lady’s reluctance, Richard, stimulated doubtless
by his sense of duty, prevailed; and they were soon so near as
distinctly to hear sounds.

“The bird must he had,” said Natty, “by fair means or foul.  Heigho!
I’ve known the time, lad, when the wild turkeys wasn’t over-scarce in
the country; though you must go into the Virginia gaps if you want
them now.  ‘to be sure, there is a different taste to a partridge and
a well-fatted turkey; though, to my eating, beaver’s tail and bear’s
ham make the best of food.  But then every one has his own appetite.
I gave the last farthing, all to that shilling, to the French trader,
this very morning, as I came through the town, for powder; so, as you
have nothing, we can have but one shot for it.  I know that Billy
Kirby is out, and means to have a pull of the trigger at that very
turkey.  John has a true eye for a single fire, and, some how, my hand
shakes so whenever I have to do anything extrawnary, that I often lose
my aim.  Now, when I killed the she-bear this fall, with her cubs,
though they were so mighty ravenous, I knocked them over one at a
shot, and loaded while I dodged the trees in the bargain; but this is
a very different thing, Mr. Oliver.”

“This,” cried the young man, with an accent that sounded as if he took
a bitter pleasure in his poverty, while he held a shilling up before
his eyes, “this is all the treasure that I possess—this and my rifle!
Now, indeed, I have become a man of the woods, and must place my sole
dependence on the chase.  Come, Natty, let us stake the last penny for
the bird; with your aim, it cannot fail to be successful.”

“I would rather it should be John, lad; my heart jumps into my mouth,
because you set your mind so much out; and I’m sartain that I shall
miss the bird.  Them Indians can shoot one time as well as another;
nothing ever troubles them.  I say, John, here’s a shilling; take my
rifle, and get a shot at the big turkey they’ve put up at the stump.
Mr. Oliver is over-anxious for the creatur’, and I’m sure to do
nothing when I have over-anxiety about it.”

The Indian turned his head gloomily, and after looking keenly for a
moment, in profound silence, at his companions, he replied:

“When John was young, eyesight was not straighter than his bullet.
The Mingo squaws cried out at the sound of his rifle.  The Mingo
warriors were made squaws.  When did he ever shoot twice? The eagle
went above the clouds when he passed the wigwam of Chingachgook; his
feathers were plenty with the women.  But see,” he said, raising his
voice from the low, mournful tones in which he had spoken to a pitch
of keen excitement, and stretching forth both hands, “they shake like
a deer at the wolf’s howl.  Is John old? When was a Mohican a squaw
with seventy winters? No! the white man brings old age with him—rum is
his tomahawk!”

“Why, then, do you use it, old man?” exclaimed the young hunter; “why
will one, so noble by nature, aid the devices of the devil by making
himself a beast?”

“Beast! is John a beast?” replied the Indian slowly; “yes; you say no
lie, child of the Fire-eater! John is a beast.  The smokes were once
few in these hills, The deer would lick the hand of a white man and
the birds rest on his head.  They were strangers to him.  My fathers
came from the shores of the salt lake. They fled before rum.  They
came to their grandfather, and they lived in peace; or, when they did
raise the hatchet, it was to strike it into the brain of a Mingo.
They gathered around the council fire, and what they said was done.
Then John was a man.  But warriors and traders with light eyes
followed them.  One brought the long knife and one brought rum.  They
were more than the pines on the mountains; and they broke up the
councils and took the lands, The evil spirit was in their jugs, and
they let him loose.  Yes yes—you say no lie, Young Eagle; John is a
Christian beast.”

“Forgive me, old warrior,” cried the youth, grasping his hand; “I
should be the last to reproach you.  The curses of Heaven light on the
cupidity that has destroyed such a race.  Remember, John, that I am of
your family, and it is now my greatest pride.”

The muscles of Mohegan relaxed a little, and he said, more mildly:

“You are a Delaware, my son; your words are not heard—John cannot
shoot.”

“I thought that lad had Indian blood in him,” whispered Richard, “by
the awkward way he handled my horses last night.  You see, coz, they
never use harness.  But the poor fellow shall have two shots at the
turkey, if he wants it, for I’ll give him another shilling myself;
though, per haps, I had better offer to shoot for him.  They have got
up their Christmas sports, I find, in the bushes yonder, where you
hear the laughter—though it is a queer taste this chap has for turkey;
not but what it is good eating, too,”

“Hold, Cousin Richard,” exclaimed Elizabeth, clinging to his arm;
“would it be delicate to offer a shilling to that gentleman?”

“Gentleman, again! Do you think a half-breed, like him, will refuse
money? No, no, girl, he will take the shilling; ay! and even rum too,
notwithstanding he moralizes so much about it, But I’ll give the lad a
chance for his turkey; for that Billy Kirby is one of the best
marksmen in the country; that is, if we except the—the gentleman.”

“Then,” said Elizabeth, who found her strength unequal to her will, “
then, sir, I will speak.” She advanced, with an air of determination,
in front of her cousin, and entered the little circle of bushes that
surrounded the trio of hunters.  Her appearance startled the youth,
who at first made an unequivocal motion toward retiring, but,
recollecting himself, bowed, by lifting his cap, and resumed his
attitude of leaning on his rifle.  Neither Natty nor Mohegan betrayed
any emotion, though the appearance of Elizabeth was so entirely
unexpected.

“I find,” she said, “that the old Christmas sport of shooting the
turkey is yet in use among you.  I feel inclined to try my chance for
a bird.  Which of you will take this money, and, after paying my fee,
give me the aid of his rifle?”

“Is this a sport for a lady?” exclaimed the young hunter, with an
emphasis that could not well be mistaken, and with a rapidity that
showed he spoke without consulting anything but feeling.
“Why not, sir? If it be inhuman the sin is not confined to one sex
only.  But I have my humor as well as others.  I ask not your
assistance, but”—turning to Natty, and dropping a dollar in his hand—”
this old veteran of the forest will not be so ungallant as to refuse
one fire for a lady.”

Leather-Stocking dropped the money into his pouch, and throwing up the
end of his rifle he freshened his priming; and first laughing in his
usual manner, he threw the piece over his shoulder, and said:

“If Billy Kirby don’t get the bird before me, and the Frenchman’s
powder don’t hang fire this damp morning, you’ll see as fine a turkey
dead, in a few minutes, as ever was eaten in the Judge’s shanty.  I
have knowed the Dutch women, on the Mohawk and Schoharie, count
greatly on coming to the merry-makings; and so, lad, you shouldn’t be
short with the lady.  Come, let us go forward, for if we wait the
finest bird will be gone.”

“But I have a right before you, Natty, and shall try on my own luck
first.  You will excuse me, Miss Temple; I have much reason to wish
that bird, and may seem ungallant, but I must claim my privileges.”

“Claim anything that is justly your own, sir,” returned the lady; “we
are both adventurers; and this is my knight.  I trust my fortune to
his hand and eye.  Lead on, Sir Leather-Stocking, and we will follow.”

Natty, who seemed pleased with the frank address of the young and
beauteous Elizabeth, who had so singularly intrusted him with such a
commission, returned the bright smile with which she had addressed
him, by his own peculiar mark of mirth, and moved across the snow
toward the spot whence the sounds of boisterous mirth proceeded, with
the long strides of a hunter.  His companions followed in silence, the
youth casting frequent and uneasy glances toward Elizabeth, who was
detained by a motion from Richard.

“I should think, Miss Temple,” he said, so soon as the others were out
of hearing, “that if you really wished a turkey, you would not have
taken a stranger for the office, and such a one as Leather-Stocking.
But I can hardly believe that you are serious, for I have fifty, at
this moment, shut up in the coops, in every stage of fat, so that you
might choose any quality you pleased.  There are six that I am trying
an experiment on, by giving them brick-bats with—”

“Enough, Cousin Dickon,” interrupted the lady; “I do wish the bird,
and it is because I so wish that I commissioned this Mr. Leather-
Stocking.”

“Did you ever hear of the great shot that I made at the wolf, Cousin
Elizabeth, who was carrying off your father's sheep?” said Richard,
drawing himself up with an air of displeasure.  “He had the sheep on
his hack; and, had the head of the wolf been on the other side, I
should have killed him dead; as it was—”

“You killed the sheep—I know it all, dear coz.  Hut would it have been
decorous for the High Sheriff of —to mingle in such sports as these?”
“Surely you did not think that I intended actually to fire with my own
hands?” said Mr. Jones.  “But let us follow, and see the shooting.
There is no fear of anything unpleasant occurring to a female in this
new country, especially to your father’s daughter, and in my
presence.”

“My father’s daughter fears nothing, sir, more especially when
escorted by the highest executive officer in the county.”

She took his arm, and he led her through the mazes of the bushes to
the spot where most of the young men of the village were collected for
the sports of shooting a Christmas match, and whither Natty and his
Companions had already preceded them.