“It will not do, Judith,” said the young man, in answer to this appeal, which he understood, though he saw its uselessness; “it will not do. 'Twas a bold idea, and fit for a general's lady, but yonder Mingo” Rivenoak had withdrawn to a little distance, and was out of earshot—“but yonder Mingo is an oncommon man, and not to be deceived by any unnat'ral sarcumvention. Things must come afore him in their right order, to draw a cloud afore his eyes! 'Twas too much to attempt making him fancy that a queen, or a great lady, lived in these mountains, and no doubt he thinks the fine clothes you wear is some of the plunder of your own father—or, at least, of him who once passed for your father; as quite likely it was, if all they say is true.”
“At all events, Deerslayer, my presence here will save you for a time. They will hardly attempt torturing you before my face!”
“Why not, Judith? Do you think they will treat a woman of the pale faces more tenderly than they treat their own? It's true that your sex will most likely save you from the torments, but it will not save your liberty, and may not save your scalp. I wish you had not come, my good Judith; it can do no good to me, while it may do great harm to yourself.”
“I can share your fate,” the girl answered with generous enthusiasm. “They shall not injure you while I stand by, if in my power to prevent it—besides—”
“Besides, what, Judith? What means have you to stop Injin cruelties, or to avart Injin deviltries?”
“None, perhaps, Deerslayer,” answered the girl, with firmness, “but I can suffer with my friends—die with them if necessary.”
“Ah! Judith—suffer you may; but die you will not, until the Lord's time shall come. It's little likely that one of your sex and beauty will meet with a harder fate than to become the wife of a chief, if, indeed your white inclinations can stoop to match with an Injin. 'Twould have been better had you staid in the Ark, or the castle, but what has been done, is done. You was about to say something, when you stopped at 'besides'?”
“It might not be safe to mention it here, Deerslayer,” the girl hurriedly answered, moving past him carelessly, that she might speak in a lower tone; “half an hour is all in all to us. None of your friends are idle.”
The hunter replied merely by a grateful look. Then he turned towards his enemies, as if ready again to face their torments. A short consultation had passed among the elders of the band, and by this time they also were prepared with their decision. The merciful purpose of Rivenoak had been much weakened by the artifice of Judith, which, failing of its real object, was likely to produce results the very opposite of those she had anticipated. This was natural; the feeling being aided by the resentment of an Indian who found how near he had been to becoming the dupe of an inexperienced girl. By this time, Judith's real character was fully understood, the wide spread reputation of her beauty contributing to the exposure. As for the unusual attire, it was confounded with the profound mystery of the animals with two tails, and for the moment lost its influence.
When Rivenoak, therefore, faced the captive again, it was with an altered countenance. He had abandoned the wish of saving him, and was no longer disposed to retard the more serious part of the torture. This change of sentiment was, in effect, communicated to the young men, who were already eagerly engaged in making their preparations for the contemplated scene. Fragments of dried wood were rapidly collected near the sapling, the splinters which it was intended to thrust into the flesh of the victim, previously to lighting, were all collected, and the thongs were already produced that were again to bind him to the tree. All this was done in profound silence, Judith watching every movement with breathless expectation, while Deerslayer himself stood seemingly as unmoved as one of the pines of the hills. When the warriors advanced to bind him, however, the young man glanced at Judith, as if to enquire whether resistance or submission were most advisable. By a significant gesture she counselled the last, and, in a minute, he was once more fastened to the tree, a helpless object of any insult, or wrong, that might be offered. So eagerly did every one now act, that nothing was said. The fire was immediately lighted in the pile, and the end of all was anxiously expected.