Cooper_The_Pioneers.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']


himself from the tomb, and said ** suppose it*8 all right, and it*s
kindly thought, aod kindly done. ithat have ye put over the
.jskin?"

** shall hear. ' stone is raised to the memory of an
, of the tribe, who was known by the several
names of ; * '*

*-h*-.can, lad, they call themselves heoan."

" * and * "

", h \^ gach-gook) , which, intarpreted,
means e.^i-pent. name should be set down r^ht, for an
's name has always some meaning in it."

** will see it altered," said . ** was the last of his
people who continued to inhabit this country; and it may be said of
him, emphatically, that his faults were those of an , and his
virtues those of a man."

" never said truer word, . ; ah*s me! if you had
known him, as did, in his prime, in that very battle, where the old
gentleman, who sleeps by his side, sav*d his life, when them thieves,
the , had him at the stake, you'd- have said all that, and
more too. cut the thongs with this very hand, and gave him my
own tomahawk and knife, seeing that the rifle was always my
&v'rite weapon. did lay about him like a man ; met him as
was coming home from the trail, with eleven scalps on his
pole. needn't shudder, for they was all
firom shav'd heads and warriors. look about me, at these
hills, where used to could count twenty smokes, curling over the
tree-tops, from the camps, it raises mournful thoughts to
think that not a -skin is left of them all; unless it may be a
drunken vagabond from the , or them , who,
ihey say, be moving up from the sea-shore ; and who belong to none
of s creater's to my seeming; being, as it were, neither fish nor
flesh neither white man nor savage. , veil, the time has come
at last, and must go"

" !" echoed ; ** whither do yon go?"

-stocking, who had imbibed, unconsciously, mapy of
the qualities, though he always thought of himself as of a
civilised being, compared witli even the , averted his face
to conceal the workings of his muscles, as he stooped to lift a large
pack from behind the tomb, which he placed deliberately on his
shoulders.

'*!" exclaimed , approaching him with a hurried step;
''you should not venture so far in the woods alone, at your time of
life,' ; indeed, it is imprudent. is bent, , on some
distant hunting."

*' . tells you is true. -stocking," said
; " there can be no necessity for your submitting to such
juurdships now. throw aside your pack, and confine your hunt to
the mountains ueas^us, if you will go."

** ' a pleasure, children, and the greatest that is
left me on thii side of the grave."





898 .



" , no ; you shall not go to such a distance,** cried ,
smiling, and laying her white hand on his deer-skin pack. " am
right! feel his camp-kettle and a canister of powder! mast
not be suffered to wander so far from us, ; remember how
suddenly dropp'd away *'

** know*d the parting would come hard, children ; know'd it
would !" said , " and so got aside to look at the graves by
myself, and thought if left ye the keepsake which the gave
me, when we first parted in the woods, ye wouldn't take it ankind,
but would know that, let the old man's body go where it might, his
feelings stayed behind him."

** means something more than common !" exclaimed the
youth; where is it, , that you purpose going?"

hunter drew nigh him with a confident, reasoning air, as if
what he had to say would silence all objections, and replied ** ,
lad, they tell me, that on the -lakes there*s the best of huntiug,
and a great range, without a white man on it, unless it may be one
like myself. weary of living in clearings, and where the hammer
is sounding in my ears from sunrise to sund . though
much bound to ye both, children 1 wouldn't say it if it was not true
- crave to go into the woods ag'in, do.**

" !" echoed , trembling with her feelings ; ** do
you not call these endless forests wQods ?**

" child, these be nothing to a man that's used to the wilder*
ness. have took but little comfort sin* your father come on with
his settlers ; but wouldn't go far while the life was in the body
that lies under the sod there. now he's gone, and
is gone; and you be both young and happy. ! the big house
has rung with merriment this month past! now, thought,
was the time to try to get a little comfort, in the close of my days.
, indeed! doesn't call these woods, ,
where lose myself, every day of my life, in the clearings."

" there be anything wanting to your comfort," cried ,
** name it. -stocking ; and, if it be attainable, it is yours."

" mean all for the best, lad ; know it ; and so does ,
too; but your ways isn't my ways. ' like the dead there, who
thought, when the breath was m them, that one went east, and one
went w^st to find their heavens; but they'll meet at last, and so
shall we, child^'en. , ind as you've begun, and we shall meet in
the land of the just at last."

" is so new so unexpected!" said , in almost
breathless excitement ; " had thought you meant to live with us
and die with us. ."

" are of no avail !" exclaimed her husband; " the habits of
forty years are not to be dispossessed by the ties of a day. know
you too well to urge you further. ; unless you will let me build
you a hut, on one of the distant hills, where we can sometimes see
you and know that you are comfortable."

"on't fear the -stocking, children ; will see that his
days bft provided fof, and his ind n&pvy^ know you mean all for



. 399

the best, but our ways doesn't agree. love the woods, and ye relish
the face of man; eat when hungry, and drink when a-dry, and ye
keep stated hours and rules; nay, nay, you even over-feed the dogs,
lad, from pure kindness, and hounds should be gaunty to run weU,
meanest of 's creaters be made for some use, and am
formed for the wilderness ; and, if ye love me, let me go where my
soul craves to be ag'in "

appeal was decisive ; not another word of entreaty for him to
remain was then uttered; but bent her bead to her bosom
and wept, while her husband dashed away the tears from his eyes,
and with hands that almost refused to perform their office, he pro-
duced his pocket-book, and extended a parcel of bank-notes to the
hunter.

** these," ^ he said, " at least take these ; secure them about
your person, and in the hour of need they will do you good service.'*

old man took the notes, and examined them with a curious
eye, when he said ** , then, is some of the new-fashioned money
that they've been makin' at , out of paper ! can't be worth
much to they that hasn't laming! , no, lad take back the stuff;
it will do me no sarvice. took kear to get all the 's
powder, afore he broke up, and they say that lead grows where
'm going. isn't even fit for wads, seeing that use none but
leather! , let an old man kiss your hand, and
wish 's choicest blessings on you and your'n."

" more let me beseech you, stay!" cried . "
not. -stocking, leave me to grieve for the man who has twice
rescued me from death, and who has served those love so faithfully.
my sake, if not for your own, stay. shall see you in those
frightful dreams that still haunt my night, dying in poverty and age,
by the side of those terrific beasts you slew. will be no evil
that sickness, want, and solitude can inflict, that my fancy will not
conjure as your fate. with us, old man; if not for your own
sake, at least for ours."

" thoughts and bitter dreams. ," returned
the old hunter, solemnly, " will never haunt an innocent parson long.
'll pass away with 's pleasure. if the cat-a-mounts be
yet brought to your eyes in sleep, 'lis not for my sake, but to show
the power of that led me there to save you. in ,
, and your honourable husband, and the thoughts of an old
man like me can never be long nor bitter. pray that the
will keep you in mind the that lives in clearing as well as in
the wilderness and bless you, and all that belongs to you, from this
time till the great day when the whites shall meet the red skins in
, and justice shall be the law, and not power."

raised her head, and ofiTered her colourless cheek to his
salute, when he lifted his cap and touched it respectfully. hand
was grasped with convulsive fervour by the youth, who continued
silent. hunter prepared himself for his journey, drawing his
belt tighter, and wasting his moments in the little reluctant move-
anent of a sorrpwfjal departure. or twice he essayed to speak,



400 .

but a rising in his throat prevented it. length, he shouldered hit
rifle, and cried with a clear hantsman's call that echoed through the
voods "-e-e-re, he-e^e-re, pups away, dogs, away; ^ye'il be
foot* sore afore ye see the ind of the joarnej !"

hounds leaped from the earth at his ory, and scented around
the gn. of the silent pair, as if conscious of their own destination,
they followed humbly at the heels of their master. short pause
succeeded, during which even the youth eoneealed his face on his
grandfather's tomb. the pride of manhood, however, had
suppressed the feelings of nature, he turned to renew his entreaties,
hut saw that the cemetery was occupied only by himself and his wife.

** is gone !" cried .

raised her face, and saw the old hunter standing looking
back for a moment, on the verge of the wood. he caught their
glances, he drew his hard hand hastily across his eyes again, waved
on high for an adieu, and uttered a forced cry to his dogs, who
were crouching at his feet, he entered the forest

was the last that they ever saw of the -stocking,
whose rapid movements preceded the pursuit which
both ordered and conducted. had gone far towards the setting
sun, the foremost in that band of who are opening the way
for the march of our nation across the continent.