Let my daughter look around her and count
my warriors. Had I as many hands as four warriors, their fingers
would be fewer than my people, when they came into your hunting
grounds. Now, a whole hand is missing. Where are the fingers?
Two have been cut off by this pale-face; my Hurons wish to see if
he did this by means of a stout heart, or by treachery. Like a
skulking fox, or like a leaping panther."
"You know yourself, Huron, how one of them fell. I saw it, and
you all saw it, too. 'Twas too bloody to look at; but it was not
Deerslayer's fault. Your warrior sought his life, and he defended
himself. I don't know whether this good book says that it was
right, but all men will do that. Come, if you want to know which
of you can shoot best, give Deerslayer a rifle, and then you will
find how much more expert he is than any of your warriors; yes,
than all of them together!"
Could one have looked upon such a scene with indifference, he would
have been amused at the gravity with which the savages listened
to the translation of this unusual request. No taunt, no smile
mingled with their surprise, for Hetty had a character and a manner
too saintly to subject her infirmity to the mockings of the rude
and ferocious.
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