<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"></SPAN></p>
<h2> Chapter XXIX. </h2>
<p>"The ugly bear now minded not the stake,<br/>
Nor how the cruel mastiffs do him tear,<br/>
The stag lay still unroused from the brake,<br/>
The foamy boar feared not the hunter's spear:<br/>
All thing was still in desert, bush, and briar:"<br/>
<br/>
Thomas Sackville; "The Complaint of Henry Duke of Buckingham,"<br/>
lxxxi.<br/></p>
<p>'Twas one of the common expedients of the savages, on such occasions, to
put the nerves of their victims to the severest proofs. On the other hand,
it was a matter of Indian pride to betray no yielding to terror, or pain,
but for the prisoner to provoke his enemies to such acts of violence as
would soonest produce death. Many a warrior had been known to bring his
own sufferings to a more speedy termination, by taunting reproaches and
reviling language, when he found that his physical system was giving way
under the agony of sufferings produced by a hellish ingenuity that might
well eclipse all that has been said of the infernal devices of religious
persecution. This happy expedient of taking refuge from the ferocity of
his foes, in their passions, was denied Deerslayer however, by his
peculiar notions of the duty of a white man, and he had stoutly made up
his mind to endure everything, in preference to disgracing his colour.</p>
<p>No sooner did the young men understand that they were at liberty to
commence, than some of the boldest and most forward among them sprang into
the arena, tomahawk in hand. Here they prepared to throw that dangerous
weapon, the object being to strike the tree as near as possible to the
victim's head, without absolutely hitting him. This was so hazardous an
experiment that none but those who were known to be exceedingly expert
with the weapon were allowed to enter the lists at all, lest an early
death might interfere with the expected entertainment. In the truest hands
it was seldom that the captive escaped injury in these trials, and it
often happened that death followed, even when the blow was not
premeditated. In the particular case of our hero, Rivenoak and the older
warriors were apprehensive that the example of the Panther's fate might
prove a motive with some fiery spirit suddenly to sacrifice his conqueror,
when the temptation of effecting it in precisely the same manner, and
possibly with the identical weapon with which the warrior had fallen,
offered. This circumstance of itself rendered the ordeal of the tomahawk
doubly critical for the Deerslayer. It would seem, however, that all who
now entered what we shall call the lists, were more disposed to exhibit
their own dexterity, than to resent the deaths of their comrades. Each
prepared himself for the trial with the feelings of rivalry, rather than
with the desire for vengeance, and, for the first few minutes, the
prisoner had little more connection with the result, than grew out of the
interest that necessarily attached itself to a living target. The young
men were eager, instead of being fierce, and Rivenoak thought he still saw
signs of being able to save the life of the captive when the vanity of the
young men had been gratified; always admitting that it was not sacrificed
to the delicate experiments that were about to be made. The first youth
who presented himself for the trial was called The Raven, having as yet
had no opportunity of obtaining a more warlike sobriquet. He was
remarkable for high pretension, rather than for skill or exploits, and
those who knew his character thought the captive in imminent danger when
he took his stand, and poised the tomahawk. Nevertheless, the young man
was good natured, and no thought was uppermost in his mind other than the
desire to make a better cast than any of his fellows. Deerslayer got an
inkling of this warrior's want of reputation by the injunctions that he
had received from the seniors, who, indeed, would have objected to his
appearing in the arena, at all, but for an influence derived from his
father; an aged warrior of great merit, who was then in the lodges of the
tribe. Still, our hero maintained an appearance of self-possession. He had
made up his mind that his hour was come, and it would have been a mercy,
instead of a calamity, to fall by the unsteadiness of the first hand that
was raised against him. After a suitable number of flourishes and
gesticulations that promised much more than he could perform, the Raven
let the tomahawk quit his hand. The weapon whirled through the air with
the usual evolutions, cut a chip from the sapling to which the prisoner
was bound within a few inches of his cheek, and stuck in a large oak that
grew several yards behind him. This was decidedly a bad effort, and a
common sneer proclaimed as much, to the great mortification of the young
man. On the other hand, there was a general but suppressed murmur of
admiration at the steadiness with which the captive stood the trial. The
head was the only part he could move, and this had been purposely left
free, that the tormentors might have the amusement, and the tormented
endure the shame, of his dodging, and otherwise attempting to avoid the
blows. Deerslayer disappointed these hopes by a command of nerve that
rendered his whole body as immovable as the tree to which he was bound.
Nor did he even adopt the natural and usual expedient of shutting his
eyes, the firmest and oldest warrior of the red-men never having more
disdainfully denied himself this advantage under similar circumstances.</p>
<p>The Raven had no sooner made his unsuccessful and puerile effort, than he
was succeeded by le Daim-Mose, or the Moose; a middle aged warrior who was
particularly skilful in the use of the tomahawk, and from whose attempt
the spectators confidently looked for gratification. This man had none of
the good nature of the Raven, but he would gladly have sacrificed the
captive to his hatred of the pale-faces generally, were it not for the
greater interest he felt in his own success as one particularly skilled in
the use of this weapon. He took his stand quietly, but with an air of
confidence, poised his little axe but a single instant, advanced a foot
with a quick motion, and threw. Deerslayer saw the keen instrument
whirling towards him, and believed all was over; still, he was not
touched. The tomahawk had actually bound the head of the captive to the
tree, by carrying before it some of his hair, having buried itself deep
beneath the soft bark. A general yell expressed the delight of the
spectators, and the Moose felt his heart soften a little towards the
prisoner, whose steadiness of nerve alone enabled him to give this
evidence of his consummate skill.</p>
<p>Le Daim-Mose was succeeded by the Bounding Boy, or le Garcon qui Bondi who
came leaping into the circle, like a hound or a goat at play. This was one
of those elastic youths whose muscles seemed always in motion, and who
either affected, or who from habit was actually unable, to move in any
other manner than by showing the antics just mentioned. Nevertheless, he
was both brave and skilful, and had gained the respect of his people by
deeds in war, as well as success in the hunts. A far nobler name would
long since have fallen to his share, had not a French-man of rank
inadvertently given him this sobriquet, which he religiously preserved as
coming from his Great Father who lived beyond the Wide Salt Lake. The
Bounding Boy skipped about in front of the captive, menacing him with his
tomahawk, now on one side and now on another, and then again in front, in
the vain hope of being able to extort some sign of fear by this parade of
danger. At length Deerslayer's patience became exhausted by all this
mummery, and he spoke for the first time since the trial had actually
commenced.</p>
<p>"Throw away, Huron," he cried, "or your tomahawk will forget its ar'n'd.
Why do you keep loping about like a fa'a'n that's showing its dam how well
it can skip, when you're a warrior grown, yourself, and a warrior grown
defies you and all your silly antiks. Throw, or the Huron gals will laugh
in your face."</p>
<p>Although not intended to produce such an effect, the last words aroused
the "Bounding" warrior to fury. The same nervous excitability which
rendered him so active in his person, made it difficult to repress his
feelings, and the words were scarcely past the lips of the speaker than
the tomahawk left the hand of the Indian. Nor was it cast without
ill-will, and a fierce determination to slay. Had the intention been less
deadly, the danger might have been greater. The aim was uncertain, and the
weapon glanced near the cheek of the captive, slightly cutting the
shoulder in its evolutions. This was the first instance in which any other
object than that of terrifying the prisoner, and of displaying skill had
been manifested, and the Bounding Boy was immediately led from the arena,
and was warmly rebuked for his intemperate haste, which had come so near
defeating all the hopes of the band. To this irritable person succeeded
several other young warriors, who not only hurled the tomahawk, but who
cast the knife, a far more dangerous experiment, with reckless
indifference; yet they always manifested a skill that prevented any injury
to the captive. Several times Deerslayer was grazed, but in no instance
did he receive what might be termed a wound. The unflinching firmness with
which he faced his assailants, more especially in the sort of rally with
which this trial terminated, excited a profound respect in the spectators,
and when the chiefs announced that the prisoner had well withstood the
trials of the knife and the tomahawk, there was not a single individual in
the band who really felt any hostility towards him, with the exception of
Sumach and the Bounding Boy. These two discontented spirits got together,
it is true, feeding each other's ire, but as yet their malignant feelings
were confined very much to themselves, though there existed the danger
that the others, ere long, could not fail to be excited by their own
efforts into that demoniacal state which usually accompanied all similar
scenes among the red men.</p>
<p>Rivenoak now told his people that the pale-face had proved himself to be a
man. He might live with the Delawares, but he had not been made woman with
that tribe. He wished to know whether it was the desire of the Hurons to
proceed any further. Even the gentlest of the females, however, had
received too much satisfaction in the late trials to forego their
expectations of a gratifying exhibition, and there was but one voice in
the request to proceed. The politic chief, who had some such desire to
receive so celebrated a hunter into his tribe, as a European Minister has
to devise a new and available means of taxation, sought every plausible
means of arresting the trial in season, for he well knew, if permitted to
go far enough to arouse the more ferocious passions of the tormentors, it
would be as easy to dam the waters of the great lakes of his own region,
as to attempt to arrest them in their bloody career. He therefore called
four or five of the best marksmen to him, and bid them put the captive to
the proof of the rifle, while at the same time he cautioned them touching
the necessity of their maintaining their own credit, by the closest
attention to the manner of exhibiting their skill.</p>
<p>When Deerslayer saw the chosen warriors step into the circle, with their
arms prepared for service, he felt some such relief as the miserable
sufferer, who has long endured the agonies of disease, feels at the
certain approach of death. Any trifling variance in the aim of this
formidable weapon would prove fatal; since, the head being the target, or
rather the point it was desired to graze without injuring, an inch or two
of difference in the line of projection must at once determine the
question of life or death.</p>
<p>In the torture by the rifle there was none of the latitude permitted that
appeared in the case of even Gessler's apple, a hair's breadth being, in
fact, the utmost limits that an expert marksman would allow himself on an
occasion like this. Victims were frequently shot through the head by too
eager or unskilful hands, and it often occurred that, exasperated by the
fortitude and taunts of the prisoner, death was dealt intentionally in a
moment of ungovernable irritation. All this Deerslayer well knew, for it
was in relating the traditions of such scenes, as well as of the battles
and victories of their people, that the old men beguiled the long winter
evenings in their cabins. He now fully expected the end of his career, and
experienced a sort of melancholy pleasure in the idea that he was to fall
by a weapon as much beloved as the rifle. A slight interruption, however,
took place before the business was allowed to proceed.</p>
<p>Hetty Hutter witnessed all that passed, and the scene at first had pressed
upon her feeble mind in a way to paralyze it entirely; but, by this time
she had rallied, and was growing indignant at the unmerited suffering the
Indians were inflicting on her friend. Though timid, and shy as the young
of the deer on so many occasions, this right-feeling girl was always
intrepid in the cause of humanity; the lessons of her mother, and the
impulses of her own heart—perhaps we might say the promptings of
that unseen and pure spirit that seemed ever to watch over and direct her
actions—uniting to keep down the apprehensions of woman, and to
impel her to be bold and resolute. She now appeared in the circle, gentle,
feminine, even bashful in mien, as usual, but earnest in her words and
countenance, speaking like one who knew herself to be sustained by the
high authority of God.</p>
<p>"Why do you torment Deerslayer, redmen?" she asked "What has he done that
you trifle with his life; who has given you the right to be his judges?
Suppose one of your knives or tomahawks had hit him; what Indian among you
all could cure the wound you would make. Besides, in harming Deerslayer,
you injure your own friend; when father and Hurry Harry came after your
scalps, he refused to be of the party, and staid in the canoe by himself.
You are tormenting a good friend, in tormenting this young man!"</p>
<p>The Hurons listened with grave attention, and one among them, who
understood English, translated what had been said into their native
tongue. As soon as Rivenoak was made acquainted with the purport of her
address he answered it in his own dialect; the interpreter conveying it to
the girl in English.</p>
<p>"My daughter is very welcome to speak," said the stern old orator, using
gentle intonations and smiling as kindly as if addressing a child—"The
Hurons are glad to hear her voice; they listen to what she says. The Great
Spirit often speaks to men with such tongues. This time, her eyes have not
been open wide enough to see all that has happened. Deerslayer did not
come for our scalps, that is true; why did he not come? Here they are on
our heads; the war locks are ready to be taken hold of; a bold enemy ought
to stretch out his hand to seize them. The Iroquois are too great a nation
to punish men that take scalps. What they do themselves, they like to see
others do. Let my daughter look around her and count my warriors. Had I as
many hands as four warriors, their fingers would be fewer than my people,
when they came into your hunting grounds. Now, a whole hand is missing.
Where are the fingers? Two have been cut off by this pale-face; my Hurons
wish to see if he did this by means of a stout heart, or by treachery.
Like a skulking fox, or like a leaping panther."</p>
<p>"You know yourself, Huron, how one of them fell. I saw it, and you all saw
it, too. 'Twas too bloody to look at; but it was not Deerslayer's fault.
Your warrior sought his life, and he defended himself. I don't know
whether this good book says that it was right, but all men will do that.
Come, if you want to know which of you can shoot best, give Deerslayer a
rifle, and then you will find how much more expert he is than any of your
warriors; yes, than all of them together!"</p>
<p>Could one have looked upon such a scene with indifference, he would have
been amused at the gravity with which the savages listened to the
translation of this unusual request. No taunt, no smile mingled with their
surprise, for Hetty had a character and a manner too saintly to subject
her infirmity to the mockings of the rude and ferocious. On the contrary,
she was answered with respectful attention.</p>
<p>"My daughter does not always talk like a chief at a Council Fire,"
returned Rivenoak, "or she would not have said this. Two of my warriors
have fallen by the blows of our prisoner; their grave is too small to hold
a third. The Hurons do not like to crowd their dead. If there is another
spirit about to set out for the far off world, it must not be the spirit
of a Huron; it must be the spirit of a pale-face. Go, daughter, and sit by
Sumach, who is in grief; let the Huron warriors show how well they can
shoot; let the pale-face show how little he cares for their bullets."</p>
<p>Hetty's mind was unequal to a sustained discussion, and accustomed to
defer to the directions of her seniors she did as told, seating herself
passively on a log by the side of the Sumach, and averting her face from
the painful scene that was occurring within the circle.</p>
<p>The warriors, as soon as this interruption had ceased, resumed their
places, and again prepared to exhibit their skill. As there was a double
object in view, that of putting the constancy of the captive to the proof,
and that of showing how steady were the hands of the marksmen under
circumstances of excitement, the distance was small, and, in one sense,
safe. But in diminishing the distance taken by the tormentors, the trial
to the nerves of the captive was essentially increased. The face of
Deerslayer, indeed, was just removed sufficiently from the ends of the
guns to escape the effects of the flash, and his steady eye was enabled to
look directly into their muzzles, as it might be, in anticipation of the
fatal messenger that was to issue from each. The cunning Hurons well knew
this fact, and scarce one levelled his piece without first causing it to
point as near as possible at the forehead of the prisoner, in the hope
that his fortitude would fail him, and that the band would enjoy the
triumph of seeing a victim quail under their ingenious cruelty.
Nevertheless each of the competitors was still careful not to injure, the
disgrace of striking prematurely being second only to that of failing
altogether in attaining the object. Shot after shot was made; all the
bullets coming in close proximity to the Deerslayer's head, without
touching it. Still no one could detect even the twitching of a muscle on
the part of the captive, or the slightest winking of an eye. This
indomitable resolution, which so much exceeded everything of its kind that
any present had before witnessed, might be referred to three distinct
causes. The first was resignation to his fate, blended with natural
steadiness of deportment; for our hero had calmly made up his mind that he
must die, and preferred this mode to any other; the second was his great
familiarity with this particular weapon, which deprived it of all the
terror that is usually connected with the mere form of the danger; and the
third was this familiarity carried out in practice, to a degree so nice as
to enable the intended victim to tell, within an inch, the precise spot
where each bullet must strike, for he calculated its range by looking in
at the bore of the piece. So exact was Deerslayer's estimation of the line
of fire, that his pride of feeling finally got the better of his
resignation, and when five or six had discharged their bullets into the
tree, he could not refrain from expressing his contempt at their want of
hand and eye.</p>
<p>"You may call this shooting, Mingos!" he exclaimed, "but we've squaws
among the Delawares, and I have known Dutch gals on the Mohawk, that could
outdo your greatest indivours. Ondo these arms of mine, put a rifle into
my hands, and I'll pin the thinnest warlock in your party to any tree you
can show me, and this at a hundred yards—ay, or at two hundred if
the objects can be seen, nineteen shots in twenty; or, for that matter
twenty in twenty, if the piece is creditable and trusty!"</p>
<p>A low menacing murmur followed this cool taunt. The ire of the warriors
kindled at listening to such a reproach from one who so far disdained
their efforts as to refuse even to wink when a rifle was discharged as
near his face as could be done without burning it. Rivenoak perceived that
the moment was critical, and, still retaining his hope of adopting so
noted a hunter into his tribe, the politic old chief interposed in time,
probably to prevent an immediate resort to that portion of the torture
which must necessarily have produced death through extreme bodily
suffering, if in no other manner. Moving into the centre of the irritated
group, he addressed them with his usual wily logic and plausible manner,
at once suppressing the fierce movement that had commenced.</p>
<p>"I see how it is," he said. "We have been like the pale-faces when they
fasten their doors at night, out of fear of the red men. They use so many
bars that the fire comes and burns them before they can get out. We have
bound the Deerslayer too tight: the thongs keep his limbs from shaking and
his eyes from shutting. Loosen him; let us see what his own body is really
made of."</p>
<p>It is often the case when we are thwarted in a cherished scheme, that any
expedient, however unlikely to succeed, is gladly resorted to in
preference to a total abandonment of the project. So it was with the
Hurons. The proposal of the chief found instant favor, and several hands
were immediately at work, cutting and tearing the ropes of bark from the
body of our hero. In half a minute Deerslayer stood as free from bonds as
when an hour before he had commenced his flight on the side of the
mountain. Some little time was necessary that he should recover the use of
his limbs, the circulation of the blood having been checked by the
tightness of the ligatures, and this was accorded to him by the politic
Rivenoak, under the pretence that his body would be more likely to submit
to apprehension if its true tone were restored; though really with a view
to give time to the fierce passions which had been awakened in the bosoms
of his young men to subside. This ruse succeeded, and Deerslayer by
rubbing his limbs, stamping his feet, and moving about, soon regained the
circulation, recovering all his physical powers as effectually as if
nothing had occurred to disturb them.</p>
<p>It is seldom men think of death in the pride of their health and strength.
So it was with Deerslayer. Having been helplessly bound and, as he had
every reason to suppose, so lately on the very verge of the other world,
to find himself so unexpectedly liberated, in possession of his strength
and with a full command of limb, acted on him like a sudden restoration to
life, reanimating hopes that he had once absolutely abandoned. From that
instant all his plans changed. In this, he simply obeyed a law of nature;
for while we have wished to represent our hero as being resigned to his
fate, it has been far from our intention to represent him as anxious to
die. From the instant that his buoyancy of feeling revived, his thoughts
were keenly bent on the various projects that presented themselves as
modes of evading the designs of his enemies, and he again became the quick
witted, ingenious and determined woodsman, alive to all his own powers and
resources. The change was so great that his mind resumed its elasticity,
and no longer thinking of submission, it dwelt only on the devices of the
sort of warfare in which he was engaged.</p>
<p>As soon as Deerslayer was released, the band divided itself in a circle
around him, in order to hedge him in, and the desire to break down his
spirit grew in them, precisely as they saw proofs of the difficulty there
would be in subduing it. The honor of the band was now involved in the
issue, and even the fair sex lost all its sympathy with suffering in the
desire to save the reputation of the tribe. The voices of the girls, soft
and melodious as nature had made them, were heard mingling with the
menaces of the men, and the wrongs of Sumach suddenly assumed the
character of injuries inflicted on every Huron female. Yielding to this
rising tumult, the men drew back a little, signifying to the females that
they left the captive, for a time, in their hands, it being a common
practice on such occasions for the women to endeavor to throw the victim
into a rage by their taunts and revilings, and then to turn him suddenly
over to the men in a state of mind that was little favorable to resisting
the agony of bodily suffering. Nor was this party without the proper
instruments for effecting such a purpose. Sumach had a notoriety as a
scold, and one or two crones, like the She Bear, had come out with the
party, most probably as the conservators of its decency and moral
discipline; such things occurring in savage as well as in civilized life.
It is unnecessary to repeat all that ferocity and ignorance could invent
for such a purpose, the only difference between this outbreaking of
feminine anger, and a similar scene among ourselves, consisting in the
figures of speech and the epithets, the Huron women calling their prisoner
by the names of the lower and least respected animals that were known to
themselves.</p>
<p>But Deerslayer's mind was too much occupied to permit him to be disturbed
by the abuse of excited hags, and their rage necessarily increasing with
his indifference, as his indifference increased with their rage, the
furies soon rendered themselves impotent by their own excesses. Perceiving
that the attempt was a complete failure, the warriors interfered to put a
stop to this scene, and this so much the more because preparations were
now seriously making for the commencement of the real tortures, or that
which would put the fortitude of the sufferer to the test of severe bodily
pain. A sudden and unlooked for announcement, that proceeded from one of
the look-outs, a boy ten or twelve years old, however, put a momentary
check to the whole proceedings. As this interruption has a close
connection with the d�nouement of our story, it shall be given in a
separate chapter.</p>
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