The Pioneers (65 page)

“Victory! Come on, my brave boys, the work's our own!”

All this was perfectly military, and was such an example as a gallant officer was in some measure bound to exhibit to his men; but the outcry was the unlucky cause of turning the tide of success. Natty, who had been keeping a vigilant eye on the wood chopper, and the enemy immediately before him, wheeled at this alarm and was appalled at beholding his comrade on the ground and the veteran standing on his own bulwark, giving forth the cry of victory! The muzzle of the long rifle was turned instantly towards the captain. There was a moment when the life of the old soldier was in great jeopardy; but the object to shoot at was both too large and too near for the Leatherstocking, who, instead of pulling his trigger, applied the gun to the rear of his enemy, and by a powerful shove sent him outside of the works with much greater rapidity than he had entered them. The spot on which Captain Hollister alighted was directly in front, where, as his feet touched the ground, so steep and slippery was the side of the mountain, it seemed to recede from under them. His motion was swift, and so irregular as utterly to confuse the faculties of the old soldier. During its continuance, he supposed himself to be mounted, and charging through the ranks of his enemy. At every tree he made a blow, of course, as at a foot soldier; and just as he was making the cut “St. George” at a half-burnt sapling, he landed in the highway, and, to his utter amazement, at the feet of his own spouse. When Mrs. Hollister, who was toiling up the hill followed by at least twenty curious boys, leaning with one hand on the staff with which she ordinarily walked and bearing in the other an empty bag, witnessed this exploit of her husband, indignation immediately got the better, not only of her religion, but of her philosophy.

“Why, sargeant! Is it flying ye are?” she cried—“That I should live to see a husband of mine turn his back to the inimy! And sich a one! Here have I been telling the b'ys, as we come along, all about the saige of Yorrektown, and how ye was hurted; and how ye'd be acting the same ag'in the day; and I mate ye retraiting jist as the first gun is fired. Och! I may trow away the bag! For if there's plunder, 'twill not be the wife of sich as yeerself that will be privileged to be getting the same. They do say, too, there is a power of goold and silver in the place—the Lord forgive me for setting my heart on worreldly things; but what falls in the battle, there's scripter for believing, is the just property of the victor.”

“Retreating!” exclaimed the amazed veteran. “Where's my horse? He has been shot under me—I——”

“Is the man mad?” interrupted his wife—“Divil the horse do ye own, sargeant, and ye're nothing but a shabby captain of malaishy. Oh! If the ra'al captain was here, 'tis the other way ye'd be riding, dear, or you would not follow your laider!”

While this worthy couple were thus discussing events, the battle began to rage more violently than ever above them. When the Leatherstocking saw his enemy fairly under headway, as Benjamin would express it, he gave his attention again to the right wing of the assailants. It would have been easy for Kirby, with his powerful frame, to have seized the moment to scale the bastion, and, with his great strength, to have sent both its defenders in pursuit of the veteran; but hostility appeared to be the passion that the wood chopper indulged the least in at that moment, for, in a voice that was heard by the retreating left wing, he shouted:

“Hurra! Well done, captain! Keep it up! How he handles his bush hook! He makes nothing of a sapling!” and such other encouraging exclamations to the flying veteran, until, overcome by mirth, the good-natured fellow seated himself on the ground, kicking the earth with delight, and giving vent to peal after peal of laughter.

Natty stood all this time in a menacing attitude, with his rifle pointed over the breastwork, watching with a quick and cautious eye the least movement of the assailants. The outcry unfortunately tempted the ungovernable curiosity of Hiram to take a peep from behind his cover at the state of the battle. Though this evolution was performed with great caution, in protecting his front, he left, like many a better commander, his rear exposed to the attacks of his enemy. Mr. Doolittle belonged physically to a class of his countrymen, to whom nature has denied, in their formation, the use of curved lines. Everything about him was either straight or angular. But his tailor was a woman who worked, like a regimental contractor, by a set of rules that gave the same configuration to the whole human species. Consequently when Mr. Doolittle leaned forward in the manner described, a loose drapery appeared behind the tree, at which the rifle of Natty was pointed with the quickness of lightning. A less experienced man would have aimed at the flowing robe, which hung like a festoon halfway to the earth; but the Leatherstocking knew both the man and his female tailor better; and when the smart report of the rifle was heard, Kirby, who watched the whole maneuver in breathless expectation, saw the bark fly from the beech, and the cloth, at some distance above the loose folds, wave at the same instant. No battery was ever unmasked with more promptitude than Hiram advanced from behind the tree at this summons.

He made two or three steps, with great precision, to the front, and placing one hand on the afflicted part, stretched forth the other, with a menacing air towards Natty, and cried aloud:

“Gawl darn ye! This shan't be settled so easy; I'll follow it up from the ‘common pleas' to the ‘court of errors.' ”

Such a shocking imprecation, from the mouth of so orderly a man as Squire Doolittle, with the fearless manner in which he exposed himself, together with, perhaps, the knowledge that Natty's rifle was unloaded, encouraged the troops in the rear, who gave a loud shout, and fired a volley into the treetops, after the contents of the swivel. Animated by their own noise, the men now rushed on in earnest; and Billy Kirby, who thought the joke, good as it was, had gone far enough was in the act of scaling the works when Judge Temple appeared on the opposite side, exclaiming:

“Silence and peace! Why do I see murder and bloodshed attempted? Is not the law sufficient to protect itself, that armed bands must be gathered, as in rebellion and war, to see justice performed?”

“ 'Tis the
posse comitatus,
” shouted the Sheriff, from a distant rock, “who——”

“Say rather a posse of demons. I command the peace.”

“Hold! Shed not blood!” cried a voice from the top of the Vision. “Hold, for the sake of Heaven, fire no more! All shall be yielded! You shall enter the cave!”

Amazement produced the desired effect. Natty, who had reloaded his piece, quietly seated himself on the logs, and rested his head on his hand, while the “Light Infantry” ceased their military movements and waited the issue in suspense.

In less than a minute, Edwards came rushing down the hill, followed by Major Hartmann with a velocity that was surprising for his years. They reached the terrace in an instant, from which the youth led the way, by the hollow in the rock, to the mouth of the cave, into which they both entered; leaving all without silent and gazing after them with astonishment.

SHAKESPEARE

 

DURING the five or six minutes that elapsed before the youth and Major reappeared, Judge Temple and the Sheriff, together with most of the volunteers, ascended to the terrace, where the latter began to express their conjectures of the result and to recount their individual services in the conflict. But the sight of the peacemakers ascending the ravine shut every mouth.

On a rude chair, covered with undressed deerskins, they supported a human being, whom they seated carefully and respectfully in the midst of the assembly. His head was covered by long smooth locks of the color of snow. His dress, which was studiously neat and clean, was composed of such fabrics as none but the wealthiest classes wear, but was threadbare and patched; and on his feet were placed a pair of moccasins, ornamented in the best manner of Indian ingenuity. The outlines of his face were grave and dignified, though his vacant eye, which opened and turned slowly to the faces of those around him in unmeaning looks, too surely announced that the period had arrived when age brings the mental imbecility of childhood.

Natty had followed the supporters of this unexpected object to the top of the cave and took his station at a little distance behind him, leaning on his rifle, in the midst of his pursuers, with a fearlessness that showed that heavier interests than those which affected himself were to be decided. Major Hartmann placed himself beside the aged man, uncovered, with his whole soul beaming through those eyes which so commonly danced with frolic and humor. Edwards rested with one hand familiarly, but affectionately, on the chair, though his heart was swelling with emotions that denied him utterance.

All eyes were gazing intently, but each tongue continued mute. At length the decrepit stranger, turning his vacant looks from face to face, made a feeble attempt to rise, while a faint smile crossed his wasted face, like an habitual effort at courtesy, as he said, in a hollow, tremulous voice:

“Be pleased to be seated, gentlemen. The council will open immediately. Each one who loves a good and virtuous king will wish to see these colonies continue loyal. Be seated—I pray you, be seated, gentlemen. The troops shall halt for the night.”

“This is the wandering of insanity!” said Marmaduke. “Who will explain this scene?”

“No, sir,” said Edwards, firmly, “ 'tis only the decay of nature; who is answerable for its pitiful condition remains to be shown.”

“Will the gentlemen dine with us, my son?” said the old stranger, turning to a voice that he both knew and loved. “Order a repast suitable for his Majesty's officers. You know we have the best of game always at command.”

“Who is this man?” asked Marmaduke, in a hurried voice, in which the dawnings of conjecture united with interest to put the question.

“This man!” returned Edwards calmly, his voice, however, gradually rising as he proceeded. “This man, sir, whom you behold hid in caverns, and deprived of everything that can make life desirable, was once the companion and counselor of those who ruled your country. This man, whom you see helpless and feeble, was once a warrior so brave and fearless that even the intrepid natives gave him the name of the Fire-eater. This man, whom you now see destitute of even the ordinary comfort of a cabin, in which to shelter his head, was once the owner of great riches; and, Judge Temple, he was the rightful proprietor of this very soil on which we stand. This man was the father of—”

“This then,” cried Marmaduke, with a powerful emotion, “this, then, is the lost Major Effingham!”

“Lost indeed,” said the youth, fixing a piercing eye on the other.

“And you! And you!” continued the Judge, articulating with difficulty.

“I am his grandson.”

A minute passed in profound silence. All eyes were fixed on the speakers, and even the old German appeared to wait the issue in deep anxiety. But the moment of agitation soon passed. Marmaduke raised his head from his bosom, where it had sunk, not in shame, but in devout mental thanksgivings, and, as large tears fell over his fine manly face, he grasped the hand of the youth warmly and said:

“Oliver, I forgive all thy harshness—all thy suspicions. I now see it all. I forgive thee everything but suffering this aged man to dwell in such a place when not only my habitation but my fortune were at his and thy command.”

“He's true as ter steel!” shouted Major Hartmann. “Titn't I tell you, lat, dat Marmatuke Temple vast a frient dat woult never fail in ter dime as of neet?”

“It is true, Judge Temple, that my opinions of your conduct have been staggered by what this worthy gentleman has told me. When I found it impossible to convey my grandfather back whence the enduring love of this old man brought him, without detection and exposure, I went to the Mohawk in quest of one of his former comrades, in whose justice I had dependence. He is your friend, Judge Temple, but if what he says be true, both my father and myself may have judged you harshly.”

“You name your father!” said Marmaduke, tenderly. “Was he, indeed, lost in the packet?”

“He was. He had left me, after several years of fruitless application and comparative poverty, in Nova Scotia, to obtain the compensation for his losses which the British Commissioners had at length awarded. After spending a year in England, he was returning to Halifax on his way to a government to which he had been appointed in the West Indies, intending to go to the place where my grandfather had sojourned during and since the war and take him with us.”

“But thou!” said Marmaduke, with powerful interest. “I had thought that thou hadst perished with him.”

A flush passed over the cheeks of the young man, who gazed about him at the wondering faces of the volunteers and continued silent. Marmaduke turned to the veteran captain, who just then rejoined his command, and said:

“March thy soldiers back again and dismiss them; the zeal of the Sheriff has much mistaken his duty. Dr. Todd, I will thank you to attend to the injury which Hiram Doolittle has received in this untoward affair. Richard, you will oblige me by sending up the carriage to the top of the hill. Benjamin, return to your duty in my family.”

Unwelcome as these orders were to most of the auditors, the suspicion that they had somewhat exceeded the wholesome restraints of the law, and the habitual respect with which all the commands of the Judge were received, induced a prompt compliance.

When they were gone, and the rock was left to the parties most interested in an explanation, Marmaduke, pointing to the aged Major Effingham, said to his grandson: