The Oak Openings; or the Bee-Hunter. Джеймс Фенимор Купер. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Джеймс Фенимор Купер
Издательство: РИПОЛ Классик
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Приключения: прочее
Год издания: 1848
isbn: 978-5-521-06660-5
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just now,” half whispered the wife – “he has fallen into one of his old ways, ag’in.”

      “Old ways?” slowly repeated the sister, dropping her own voice to tones similar to those in which the unpleasant news had just been communicated. “How is that possible, now that all the whiskey is emptied?”

      “It seems that Bourdon had a jug of brandy among his stores, and Gershom found it out. I blame no one; for Bourdon, who never abuses the gifts of Providence, had a right to his comforts at least; but it IS a pity that there was anything of the sort in the canoes!”

      The bee-hunter was greatly concerned at this unwelcome intelligence, feeling all its importance far more vividly than either of his companions. They regretted as women; but he foresaw the danger, as a man accustomed to exertion in trying scenes. If Whiskey Centre had really fallen into his old ways, so as to render himself an incumbrance, instead of being an assistant at such a moment, the fact was to be deplored, but it could only be remedied by time. Luckily they had the Indian with them, and he could manage one of the canoes, while he himself took charge of the other. As no time was to be lost – the barking of the dogs and the cries of the savages too plainly letting it be known that the enemy was getting through the marsh by some means or other – he hurried the party down to the canoes, entering that of Whiskey Centre at once.

      Le Bourdon found Gershom asleep, but with the heavy slumbers of the drunkard. Dolly had removed the jug and concealed it, as soon as the state of her husband enabled her to do so without incurring his violence. Else might the unfortunate man have destroyed himself, by indulging in a liquor so much more palatable than that he was accustomed to use, after so long and compelled an abstinence. The jug was now produced, however, and le Bourdon emptied it in the river, to the great joy of the two females, though not without a sharp remonstrance from the Chippewa. The bee-hunter was steady, and the last drop of the liquor of Gascony was soon mingling with the waters of the Kalamazoo. This done, the bee-hunter desired the women to embark, and called to the Chippewa to do the same. By quitting the spot in the canoes, it was evident the pursuers would be balked, temporarily at least, since they must recross the marsh in order to get into their own boats, without which further pursuit would be fruitless.

      It might have been by means of a secret sympathy, or it was possibly the result of accident, but certain it is, that the Chippewa was placed in that of le Bourdon. As for Whiskey Centre, he lay like a log in the bottom of his own light bark, cared for only by his affectionate wife, who had made a pillow for his head; but, fortunately, if no assistance just then, not any material hindrance to the movements of his friends. By the time le Bourdon and the Chippewa had got their stations, and the canoes were free of the bottom, it was evident by the sounds, that not only the dogs, but divers of their masters, had floundered through the swamp, and were already on the firm ground east of it. As the dogs ran by scent, little doubt remained of their soon leading the savages to the place of embarkation. Aware of this, the bee-hunter directed the Chippewa to follow, and urged his own canoe away from the shore, following one of three of the natural channels that united just at that point.

      The clamor now sensibly increased, and the approach of the pursuers was much faster than it had previously been, in consequence of there no longer being wet land beneath their feet. At the distance of fifty yards from the shore, however, the channel, or open avenue among the rice-plants that the canoes had taken, made a short turn to the northward; for all the events we have just been recording occurred on the northern, or leeward side of the river. Once around this bend in the channel, the canoes would have been effectually concealed from those on the beach, had it even been broad daylight, and, of course, were so much more hidden from view under the obscurity of a very dark night. Perceiving this, and fearful that the dip of the paddles might be heard, le Bourdon ceased to urge his canoe through the water, telling the Chippewa to imitate his example, and let the boats drift. In consequence of this precaution the fugitives were still quite near the shore when, first, the dogs, then a party of their masters, came rushing down to the very spot whence the canoes had departed scarcely two minutes before. As no precautions were taken to conceal the advance of the pursuers, the pursued, or the individuals among them who alone understood the common language of the great Ojebway nation well, had an opportunity of hearing and understanding all that was said. Le Bourdon had brought the two canoes together; and the Chippewa, at his request, now translated such parts of the discourse of their enemies as he deemed worthy of communicating to the females.

      “Say, now, nobody dere!” commenced the Indian, coolly. “T’ink he no great way off – mean to look for him – t’ink dog uneasy – won’er why dog so uneasy.”

      “Them dogs are very likely to scent us here in the canoes, we are so near them,” whispered le Bourdon.

      “S’pose he do, can’t catch us,” coolly answered the Chippewa – “beside, shoot him, don’t take care – bad for dog to chase warrior too much.”

      “There is one speaking now, who seems to have authority.”

      “Yes – he chief – know he voice – hear him too often – he mean to put Pigeonswing to torture. Well, let him catch Pigeonswing fust – swift bird do that, eh?”

      “But what says he? – it may be of importance to learn what the chief says, just now.”

      “Who care what he say – can’t do nuttin’ – if get good chance, take HIS scalp, too.”

      “Aye, that I dare say – but he is speaking earnestly and in a low voice; listen, and let us know what he says. I do not well understand at this distance.”

      The Chippewa complied, and maintained an attentive silence until the chief ceased to speak. Then he rendered what had been said into such English as he could command, accompanying the translation by the explanations that naturally suggested themselves to one like himself.

      “Chief talk to young men,” said the Chippewa – “all chief talk to young men – tell him dat Pigeonswing must get off in canoe – don’t see canoe, nudder – but, muss be canoe, else he swim. T’ink more than one Injin here – don’t know, dough – maybe, maybe not – can’t tell, till see trail, morrow morning – ”

      “Well, well; but what does he tell his young men to DO?” demanded the bee-hunter, impatiently.

      “Don’t be squaw, Bourdon – tell all by’em bye. Tell young men s’pose he get canoe, den he may get OUR canoe, and carry ‘em off – s’pose he swim; dat Chippewa devil swim down stream and get OUR canoe dat fashion – bess go back, some of you, and see arter OUR canoe – dat what he tell young men most.”

      “That is a lucky thought!” exclaimed le Bourdon – “let us paddle down, at once, and seize all their canoes before they can get there. The distance by water, owing to this bend in the river, is not half as great as that by land, and the marsh will double the distance to them.”

      “Dat good counsel,” said Pigeonswing – “you go – I follow.”

      This was no sooner said, than the canoes again got in motion. The darkness might now have been a sufficient protection had there been no rice, but the plant would have concealed the movement, even at noon-day. The fire in the hut served as a beacon, and enabled le Bourdon to find the canoes. When he reached the landing, he could still hear the dogs barking on the marsh, and the voices of those with them, calling in loud tones to two of the savages who had remained at the chiente, as a sort of camp-guard.

      “What do them chaps say?” asked le Bourdon of the Chippewa. “They yell as if striving to make the two men at the door of the hut hear them. Can you make out what they are bawling so loud?”

      “Tell two warrior to come down and take care of canoe – dat all – let ‘em come – find two here to take care of DEM – got good scalp, them two rascal Pottawattamie!”

      “No – no – Pigeonswing – we must have no more of that work to-night, but must set about towing these four canoes off the shore as fast as we can. Have you got hitches on your two?”

      “Fast ‘nough – so fast, he follow,” answered the Indian, who, notwithstanding his preparations to help to remove the canoes, was manifestly reluctant to depart without striking another blow at his