“If Billy Kirby don't get the bird before me, and the Frenchman's powder don't hang fire this damp morning, you'll see as fine a turkey dead, in a few minutes, as ever was eaten in the Judge's shanty. I have knowed the Dutch women, on the Mohawk and Schoharie, count greatly on coming to the merry-makings; and so, lad, you shouldn't be short with the lady. Come, let us go forward, for if we wait the finest bird will be gone.”
“But I have a right before you, Natty, and shall try on my own luck first. You will excuse me, Miss Temple; I have much reason to wish that bird, and may seem ungallant, but I must claim my privileges.”
“Claim anything that is justly your own, sir,” returned the lady; “we are both adventurers; and this is my knight. I trust my fortune to his hand and eye. Lead on, Sir Leather-Stocking, and we will follow.”
Natty, who seemed pleased with the frank address of the young and beauteous Elizabeth, who had so singularly intrusted him with such a commission, returned the bright smile with which she had addressed him, by his own peculiar mark of mirth, and moved across the snow toward the spot whence the sounds of boisterous mirth proceeded, with the long strides of a hunter. His companions followed in silence, the youth casting frequent and uneasy glances toward Elizabeth, who was detained by a motion from Richard.
“I should think, Miss Temple,” he said, so soon as the others were out of hearing, “that if you really wished a turkey, you would not have taken a stranger for the office, and such a one as Leather-Stocking. But I can hardly believe that you are serious, for I have fifty, at this moment, shut up in the coops, in every stage of fat, so that you might choose any quality you pleased. There are six that I am trying an experiment on, by giving them brick-bats with—”
“Enough, Cousin Dickon,” interrupted the lady; “I do wish the bird, and it is because I so wish that I commissioned this Mr. Leather-Stocking.”
“Did you ever hear of the great shot that I made at the wolf, Cousin Elizabeth, who was carrying off your father's sheep?” said Richard, drawing himself up with an air of displeasure. “He had the sheep on his hack; and, had the head of the wolf been on the other side, I should have killed him dead; as it was—”
“You killed the sheep—I know it all, dear coz. But would it have been decorous for the High Sheriff of—to mingle in such sports as these?” “Surely you did not think that I intended actually to fire with my own hands?” said Mr. Jones. “But let us follow, and see the shooting. There is no fear of anything unpleasant occurring to a female in this new country, especially to your father's daughter, and in my presence.”
“My father's daughter fears nothing, sir, more especially when escorted by the highest executive officer in the county.”
She took his arm, and he led her through the mazes of the bushes to the spot where most of the young men of the village were collected for the sports of shooting a Christmas match, and whither Natty and his Companions had already preceded them.