But no magistrate was to be seen!
The instant the rifle was produced Hiram and Jotham vanished; and when the wood-chopper bent his eyes about him in surprise at receiving no answer, he discovered their retreating figures moving toward the village at a rate that sufficiently indicated that they had not only calculated the velocity of a rifle-bullet, but also its probable range.
“You’ve scared the creatur’s off,” said Kirby, with great contempt expressed on his broad features; “but you are not going to scare me; so, Mr. Bumppo, down with your gun, or there’ll be trouble ‘twixt us.”
Natty dropped his rifle, and replied:
“I wish you no harm, Billy Kirby; but I leave it to yourself, whether an old man’s hut is to be run down by such varmint.
I won’t deny the buck to you, Billy, and you may take the skin in, if you please, and show it as testimony.
The bounty will pay the fine, and that ought to satisfy any man.”
“Twill, old boy, ‘twill,” cried Kirby, every shade of displeasure vanishing from his open brow at the peace-offering; “throw out the hide, and that shall satisfy the law.”
Natty entered the hut, and soon reappeared, bringing with him the desired testimonial; and the wood-chopper departed, as thoroughly reconciled to the hunter as if nothing had happened.
As he paced along the margin of the lake he would burst into frequent fits of laughter, while he recollected the summerset of Hiram: and, on the whole, he thought the affair a very capital joke.
Long before Billy’ reached the village, however, the news of his danger, and of Natty’s disrespect of the law, and of Hiram’s discomfiture, were in circulation.
A good deal was said about sending for the sheriff; some hints were given about calling out the posse comitatus to avenge the insulted laws; and many of the citizens were collected, deliberating how to proceed.
The arrival of Billy with the skin, by removing all grounds for a search, changed the complexion of things materially.
Nothing now remained but to collect the fine and assert the dignity of the people; all of which, it was unanimously agreed, could be done as well on the succeeding Monday as on Saturday night—a time kept sacred by large portion of the settlers.
Accordingly, all further proceedings were suspended for six-and-thirty hours.
CHAPTER XXXI.
“And dar’st thou then
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall.”
—Marmion.
The commotion was just subsiding, and the inhabitants of the village had begun to disperse from the little groups that had formed, each retiring to his own home, and closing his door after him, with the grave air of a man who consulted public feeling in his exterior deportment, when Oliver Edwards, on his return from the dwelling of Mr. Grant, encountered the young lawyer, who is known to the reader as Mr. Lippet.
There was very little similarity in the manners or opinions of the two; but as they both belonged to the more intelligent class of a very small community, they were, of course, known to each other, and as their meeting was at a point where silence would have been rudeness, the following conversation was the result of their interview:
“A fine evening, Mr. Edwards,” commenced the lawyer, whose disinclination to the dialogue was, to say the least, very doubtful; “we want rain sadly; that’s the worst of this climate of ours, it’s either a drought or a deluge.
It’s likely you’ve been used to a more equal temperature?”
“I am a native of this State,” returned Edwards, coldly.
“Well.
I’ve often heard that point disputed; but it’s so easy to get a man naturalized, that it’s of little consequence where he was born.
I wonder what course the Judge means to take in this business of Natty Bumppo!”
“Of Natty Bumppo!” echoed Edwards; “to what do you allude, sir?”
“Haven’t you heard!” exclaimed the other, with a look of surprise, so naturally assumed as completely to deceive his auditor; “it may turn out an ugly business.
It seems that the old man has been out in the hills, and has shot a buck this morning, and that, you know, is a criminal matter in the eyes of Judge Temple.”
“Oh! he has, has he?” said Edwards, averting his face to conceal the color that collected in his sunburnt cheek.
“Well, if that be all, he must even pay the fine.”
“It’s five pound currency,” said the lawyer; “could Natty muster so much money at once?”
“Could he!” cried the youth.
“I am not rich, Mr. Lippet; far from it—I am poor, and I have been hoarding my salary for a purpose that lies near my heart; but, be fore that old man should lie one hour in a jail, I would spend the last cent to prevent it.
Besides, he has killed two panthers, and the bounty will discharge the fine many times over.”
“Yes, yes,” said the lawyer, rubbing his hands together, with an expression of pleasure that had no artifice about it; “we shall make it out; I see plainly we shall make it out.”
“Make what out, sir?
I must beg an explanation.”
“Why, killing the buck is but a small matter compared to what took place this afternoon,” continued Mr. Lippet, with a confidential and friendly air that won upon the youth, little as he liked the man.
“It seems that a complaint was made of the fact, and a suspicion that there was venison in the hut was sworn to, all which is provided for in the statute, when Judge Temple granted the search warrant.”
“A search-warrant!” echoed Edwards, in a voice of horror, and with a face that should have been again averted to conceal its paleness; “and how much did they discover?
What did they see?”
“They saw old Bumppo’s rifle; and that is a sight which will quiet most men’s curiosity in the woods.”
“Did they! did they!” shouted Edwards, bursting into a convulsive laugh; “so the old hero beat them back beat them back! did he?”
The lawyer fastened his eyes in astonishment on the youth, but, as his wonder gave way to the thoughts that were commonly uppermost in his mind, he replied:
“It is no laughing matter, let me tell you, sir; the forty dollars of bounty and your six months of salary will be much reduced before you can get the matter fairly settled.
Assaulting a magistrate in the execution of his duty, and menacing a constable with firearms at the same time, is a pretty serious affair, and is punishable with both fine and imprisonment.”
“Imprisonment!” repeated Oliver; “imprison the Leather-Stocking! no, no, sir; it would bring the old man to his grave.