“The manner in which Judge Temple exercises its rites would confirm this opinion, but we must not trespass too freely. Doubt not that you will see us often, my child particularly, during the frequent visits that I shall be compelled to make to the distant parts of the country. But to obtain an influence with such a people,” he continued, glancing his eyes towards the few who were still lingering, curious observers of the interview, “a clergyman must not awaken envy or distrust by dwelling under so splendid a roof as that of Judge Temple.”
“You like the roof, then, Mr. Grant,” cried Richard, who had been directing the extinguishment of the fires, and other little necessary duties, and who approached in time to hear the close of the divine’s speech. “I am glad to find one man of taste at last. Here’s ’duke, now, pretends to call it by every abusive name he can invent; but though ’duke is a very tolerable judge, he is a very poor carpenter, let me tell him. Well, sir, well, I think we may say, without boasting, that the service was as well performed this evening as you often see; I think, quite as well as I ever knew it to be done in old Trinity—that is, if we except the organ. But there is the schoolmaster leads the psalm with a very good air. I used to lead myself, but latterly I have sung nothing but bass. There is a good deal of science to be shown in the bass, and it affords a fine opportunity to show off a full, deep voice. Benjamin, too, sings a good bass, though he is often out in the words. Did you ever hear Benjamin sing the ‘Bay of Biscay, O’?”
“I believe he gave us part of it this evening,” said Marmaduke, laughing. “There was, now and then, a fearful quaver in his voice, and it seems that Mr. Penguillan is like most others who do one thing particularly well; he knows nothing else. He has, certainly, a wonderful partiality to one tune, and he has a prodigious self-confidence in that one, for he delivers himself like a northwester sweeping across the lake. But come, gentlemen, our way is clear, and the sleigh waits. Good evening, Mr. Grant. Good night, young lady—remember that you dine beneath the Corinthian roof tomorrow with Elizabeth.”
The parties separated, Richard holding a close dissertation with Mr. Le Quoi, as they descended the stairs, on the subject of psalmody, which he closed by a violent eulogium on the air of the “Bay of Biscay, O,” as particularly connected with his friend Benjamin’s execution.
During the preceding dialogue, Mohegan retained his seat, with his head shrouded in his blanket, as seemingly inattentive to surrounding objects as the departing congregation was, itself, to the presence of the aged chief. Natty, also, continued on the log where he had first placed himself, with his head resting on one of his hands, while the other held the rifle, which was thrown carelessly across his lap. His countenance expressed uneasiness, and the occasional unquiet glances that he had thrown around him during the service plainly indicated some unusual causes for unhappiness. His continuing seated was, however, out of respect to the Indian chief, to whom he paid the utmost deference on all occasions, although it was mingled with the rough manner of a hunter.
The young companion of these two ancient inhabitants of the forest remained also, standing before the extinguished brands, probably from an unwillingness to depart without his comrades. The room was now deserted by all but this group, the divine, and his daughter. As the party from the mansion house disappeared, John arose, and dropping the blanket from his head, he shook back the mass of black hair from his face, and approaching Mr. Grant, he extended his hand and said solemnly:
“Father, I thank you. The words that have been said, since the rising moon, have gone upward and the Great Spirit is glad. What you have told your children, they will remember, and be good.” He paused a moment, and then, elevating himself with the grandeur of an Indian chief, he added, “If Chingachgook lives to travel towards the setting sun, after his tribe, and the Great Spirit carries him over the lakes and mountains with the breath in his body, he will tell his people the good talk he has heard; and they will believe him; for who can say that Mohegan has ever lied?”
“Let him place his dependence on the goodness of Divine mercy,” said Mr. Grant, to whom the proud consciousness of the Indian sounded a little heterodox, “and it never will desert him. When the heart is filled with love to God, there is no room for sin. But, young man, to you I owe not only an obligation, in common with those you saved this evening on the mountain, but my thanks, for your respectful and pious manner in assisting in the service at a most embarrassing moment. I should be happy to see you sometimes at my dwelling, when, perhaps, my conversation may strengthen you in the path which you appear to have chosen. It is so unusual to find one of your age and appearance, in these woods, at all acquainted with our holy liturgy, that it lessens at once the distance between us, and I feel that we are no longer strangers. You seem quite at home in the service; I did not perceive that you had even a book, although good Mr. Jones had laid several in different parts of the room.”
“It would be strange if I were ignorant of the service of our church, sir,” returned the youth modestly; “for I was baptized in its communion, and I have never yet attended public worship elsewhere. For me to use the forms of any other denomination would be as singular as our own have proved to the people here this evening.”
“You give me great pleasure, my dear sir,” cried the divine, seizing the other by the hand and shaking it cordially. “You will go home with me now—indeed you must—my child has yet to thank you for saving my life. I will listen to no apologies. This worthy Indian, and your friend, there, will accompany us. Bless me! to think that he has arrived at manhood in this country, without entering a dissenting12 meetinghouse!”
“No, no,” interrupted the Leatherstocking, “I must away to the wigwam; there’s work there that mustn’t be forgotten for all your churchings and merrymakings. Let the lad go with you in welcome; he is used to keeping company with ministers, and talking of such matters; so is old John, who was Christianized by the Moravians about the time of the old war. But I am a plain, unlarned man that has sarved both the king and his country, in his day, ag’in the French and savages, but never so much as looked into a book, or larnt a letter of scholarship, in my born days. I’ve never seen the use of such indoor work, though I have lived to be partly bald, and in my time have killed two hundred beaver in a season, and that without counting the other game. If you mistrust what I am telling you, you can ask Chingachgook there, for I did it in the heart of the Delaware country, and the old man is knowing to the truth of every word I say.”
“I doubt not, my friend, that you have been both a valiant soldier and skillful hunter in your day,” said the divine; “but more is wanting to prepare you for that end which approaches. You may have heard the maxim, that ‘young men may die, but that old men must.’ ”
“I’m sure I never was so great a fool as to expect to live forever,” said Natty, giving one of his silent laughs; “no man need do that, who trails the savages through the woods, as I have done, and lives, for the hot months, on the lake streams. I’ve a strong constitution, I must say that for myself, as is plain to be seen; for I’ve drunk the Onondaga water a hundred times, while I’ve been watching the deer licks, when the fever-an-agy seeds was to be seen in it as plain and as plenty as you can see the rattlesnakes on old Crumhorn. But then, I never expected to hold out forever; though there’s them living who have seen the Jarman flats a wilderness; ay! and them that’s larned, and acquainted with religion, too; though you might look a week, now, and not find even the stump of a pine on them; and that’s a wood that lasts in the ground the better part of a hundred years after the tree is dead.”
“This is but time, my good friend,” returned Mr. Grant, who began to take an interest in the welfare of his new acquaintance, “but I would have you prepare for eternity. It is incumbent on you to attend places of public worship, as I am pleased to see that you have done this evening. Would it not be heedless in you to start on a day’s toil of hard hunting, and leave your ramrod and flint behind?”
“It must be a young ha
nd in the woods,” interrupted Natty, with another laugh, “that didn’t know how to dress a rod out of an ash sapling, or find a firestone in the mountains. No, no, I never expected to live forever; but I see, times be altering in these mountains from what they was thirty years ago, or, for that matter, ten years. But might makes right, and the law is stronger than an old man, whether he is one that has much larning, or only one like me, that is better now at standing at the passes than in following the hounds, as I once used to could. Heigh-ho! I never know’d preaching come into a settlement but it made game scarce, and raised the price of gunpowder; and that’s a thing that’s not as easily made as a ramrod or an Indian flint.”
The divine, perceiving that he had given his opponent an argument by his own unfortunate selection of a comparison, very prudently relinquished the controversy; although he was fully determined to resume it at a more happy moment. Repeating his request to the young hunter, with great earnestness, the youth and Indian consented to accompany him and his daughter to the dwelling that the care of Mr. Jones had provided for their temporary residence. Leatherstocking persevered in his intention of returning to the hut, and at the door of the building they separated.
After following the course of one of the streets of the village a short distance, Mr. Grant, who led the way, turned into a field, through a pair of open bars, and entered a footpath, of but sufficient width to admit one person to walk in it at a time. The moon had gained a height that enabled her to throw her rays perpendicularly on the valley; and the distinct shadows of the party flitted along on the banks of the silver snow, like the presence of aerial figures, gliding to their appointed place of meeting. The night still continued intensely cold, although not a breath of wind was felt. The path was beaten so hard, that the gentle female, who made one of the party, moved with ease along its windings; though the frost emitted a low creaking at the impression of even her light footsteps.
The clergyman in his dark dress of broadcloth, with his mild, benevolent countenance, occasionally turned towards his companions, expressing that look of subdued care which was its characteristic, presented the first object in this singular group. Next to him moved the Indian, his hair falling about his face, his head uncovered, and the rest of his form concealed beneath his blanket. As his swarthy visage, with its muscles fixed in rigid composure, was seen under the light of the moon which struck his face obliquely, he seemed a picture of resigned old age on whom the storms of winter had beaten in vain for the greater part of a century; but when, in turning his head, the rays fell directly on his dark, fiery eyes, they told a tale of passions unrestrained, and of thoughts free as air. The slight person of Miss Grant, which followed next, and which was but too thinly clad for the severity of the season, formed a marked contrast to the wild attire and uneasy glances of the Delaware chief; and more than once during their walk, the young hunter, himself no insignificant figure in the group, was led to consider the difference in the human form, as the face of Mohegan, and the gentle countenance of Miss Grant, with eyes that rivaled the soft hue of the sky, met his view at the instant that each turned to throw a glance at the splendid orb which lighted their path. Their way, which led through fields that lay at some distance in the rear of the houses, was cheered by a conversation that flagged or became animated with the subject. The first to speak was the divine.
“Really,” he said, “it is so singular a circumstance to meet with one of your age, that has not been induced by idle curiosity to visit any other church than the one in which he has been educated, that I feel a strong curiosity to know the history of a life so fortunately regulated. Your education must have been excellent; as indeed is evident from your manners and language. Of which of the States are you a native, Mr. Edwards? For such, I believe, was the name that you gave Judge Temple.”
“Of this.”
“Of this! I was at a loss to conjecture, from your dialect, which does not partake, particularly, of the peculiarities of any country with which I am acquainted. You have, then, resided much in the cities, for no other part of this country is so fortunate as to possess the constant enjoyment of our excellent liturgy.”
The young hunter smiled, as he listened to the divine while he so clearly betrayed from what part of the country he had come himself; but for reasons probably connected with his present situation, he made no answer.
“I am delighted to meet with you, my young friend, for I think an ingenuous mind, such as I doubt not yours must be, will exhibit all the advantages of a settled doctrine and devout liturgy. You perceive how I was compelled to bend to the humors of my hearers this evening. Good Mr. Jones wished me to read the communion, and, in fact, all the morning service; but, happily, the canons do not require this of an evening. It would have wearied a new congregation: but tomorrow I purpose administering the sacrament. Do you commune, my young friend?”
“I believe not, sir,” returned the youth, with a little embarrassment, that was not at all diminished by Miss Grant’s pausing involuntarily and turning her eyes on him in surprise. “I fear that I am not qualified; I have never yet approached the altar; neither would I wish to do it, while I find so much of the world clinging to my heart.”
“Each must judge for himself,” said Mr. Grant; “though I should think that a youth who had never been blown about by the wind of false doctrines, and who has enjoyed the advantages of our liturgy for so many years in its purity, might safely come. Yet, sir, it is a solemn festival, which none should celebrate until there is reason to hope it is not mockery. I observed this evening, in your manner to Judge Temple, a resentment that bordered on one of the worst of human passions. We will cross this brook on the ice; it must bear us all, I think, in safety. Be careful not to slip, my child.” While speaking, he descended a little bank by the path and crossed one of the small streams that poured their waters into the lake; and, turning to see his daughter pass, observed that the youth had advanced and was kindly directing her footsteps. When all were safely over, he moved up the opposite bank and continued his discourse. “It was wrong, my dear sir, very wrong, to suffer such feelings to rise, under any circumstances, and especially in the present, where the evil was not intended.”
“There is good in the talk of my father,” said Mohegan, stopping short, and causing those who were behind him to pause also; “it is the talk of Miquon. The white man may do as his fathers have told him; but the ‘Young Eagle’ has the blood of a Delaware chief in his veins: it is red, and the stain it makes can only be washed out with the blood of a Mingo.”
Mr. Grant was surprised by the interruption of the Indian, and, stopping, faced the speaker. His mild features were confronted to the fierce and determined looks of the chief, and expressed the horror he felt at hearing such sentiments from one who professed the religion of his Saviour. Raising his hands to a level with his head, he exclaimed:
“John, John! Is this the religion that you have learned from the Moravians? But no—I will not be so uncharitable as to suppose it. They are a pious, a gentle, and a mild people, and could never tolerate these passions. Listen to the language of the Redeemer—‘But I say unto you, love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you; pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you.’—This is the command of God, John, and without striving to cultivate such feelings, no man can see him.”
The Indian heard the divine with attention; the unusual fire of his eye gradually softened, and his muscles relaxed into their ordinary composure; but, slightly shaking his head, he motioned with dignity for Mr. Grant to resume his walk, and followed himself in silence. The agitation of the divine caused him to move with unusual rapidity along the deep path, and the Indian, without any apparent exertion, kept an equal pace; but the young hunter observed the female to linger in her steps, until a trifling distance intervened between the two former and the latter. Struck by the circumstance, and not perceiving any new impediment to retard her footsteps, the youth made a tender of his assistance.
“You are fatigued, Miss Grant,” he said; “the snow yields to the foot, and you are unequal to the strides of us men. Step on the crust, I entreat you, and take the help of my arm. Yonder light is, I believe, the house of your father; but it seems yet at some distance.”
“I am quite equal to the walk,” returned a low tremulous voice; “but I am startled by the manner of that Indian. Oh! His eye was horrid, as he turned to the moon, in speaking to my father. But I forget, sir; he is your friend, and by his language may be your relative; and yet of you I do not feel afraid.”
The young man stepped on the bank of snow, which firmly sustained his weight, and by a gentle effort induced his companion to follow. Drawing her arm through his own, he lifted his cap from his head, allowing the dark locks to flow in rich curls over his open brow, and walked by her side with an air of conscious pride, as if inviting an examination of his inmost thoughts. Louisa took but a furtive glance at his person, and moved quietly along, at a rate that was greatly quickened by the aid of his arm.
“You are but little acquainted with this peculiar people, Miss Grant,” he said, “or you would know that revenge is a virtue with an Indian. They are taught from infancy upwards to believe it a duty never to allow an injury to pass unrevenged; and nothing but the stronger claims of hospitality can guard one against their resentments, where they have power.”
“Surely, sir,” said Miss Grant, involuntarily withdrawing her arm from his, “you have not been educated with such unholy sentiments.”