Chapter XXII

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　"Men, boys, and girlsDesert the unpeopled village; and wild crowdsSpread oer the plain, by the sweet phrensy driven."-Somerville.

　　From this time to the close of April the weather continued to be asuccession of neat and rapid changes. One day the soft airs of springseemed to be stealing along the valley, and, in unison with aninvigorating sun, attempting covertly to rouse the dormant powers ofthe vegetable world, while, on the next, the surly blasts from thenorth would sweep across the lake and erase every impression left bytheir gentle adversaries. The snow, however, finally disappeared, andthe green wheat fields were seen in every direction, spotted with thedark and charred stumps that had, the preceding season, supported someof the proudest trees of the forest. Ploughs were in motion, whereverthose useful implements could be used, and the smokes of the sugar-camps were no longer seen issuing from the woods of maple. The lakehad lost the beauty of a field of ice, but still a dark and gloomycovering concealed its waters, for the absence of currents left themyet hidden under a porous crust, which, saturated with the fluid,barely retained enough strength to preserve the continuity of itsparts. Large flocks of wild geese were seen passing over the country,which hovered, for a time, around the hidden sheet of water,apparently searching for a resting-place; and then, on finding themselves excluded by the chill covering, would soar away to the north,filling the air with discordant screams, as if venting theircomplaints at the tardy operations of Nature.

　　For a week, the dark covering of the Otsego was left to theundisturbed possession of two eagles, who alighted on the centre ofits field, and sat eyeing their undisputed territory. During thepresence of these monarchs of the air, the flocks of migrating birdsavoided crossing the plain of ice by turning into the hills,apparently seeking the protection of the forests, while the white andbald heads of the tenants of the lake were turned upward, with a lookof contempt. But the time had come when even these kings of birdswere to be dispossessed. An opening had been gradually increasing atthe lower extremity of the lake, and around the dark spot where thecurrent of the river prevented the formation of ice during even thecoldest weather; and the fresh southerly winds, that now breathedfreely upon the valley, made an impression on the waters. Mimic wavesbegan to curl over the margin of the frozen field, which exhibited anoutline of crystallizations that slowly receded toward the north. Ateach step the power of the winds and the waves increased, until, aftera struggle of a few hours, the turbulent little billows succeeded insetting the whole field in motion, when it was driven beyond the reachof the eye, with a rapidity that was as magical as the change producedin the scene by this expulsion of the lingering remnant of winter.Just as the last sheet of agitated ice was disappearing in thedistance, the eagles rose, and soared with a wide sweep above theclouds, while the waves tossed their little caps of snow in the air,as if rioting in their release from a thraldom of five minutesduration.

　　The following morning Elizabeth was awakened by the exhilaratingsounds of the martens, who were quarrelling and chattering around thelittle boxes suspended above her windows, and the cries of Richard,who was calling in tones animating as signs of the season itself:

　　"Awake! awake! my fair lady! the gulls are hovering over the lakealready, and the heavens are alive with pigeons. You may look an hourbefore you can find a hole through which to get a peep at the sun.Awake! awake! lazy ones Benjamin is overhauling the ammunition, andwe only wait for our breakfasts, and away for the mountains andpigeon-shooting."

　　There was no resisting this animated appeal, and in a few minutes MissTemple and her friend descended to the parlor. The doors of the hallwere thrown open, and the mild, balmy air of a clear spring morningwas ventilating the apartment, where the vigilance of the ex-stewardhad been so long maintaining an artificial heat with such unremitteddiligence. The gentlemen were impatiently waiting for their morningsrepast, each equipped in the garb of a sportsman. Mr. Jones made manyvisits to the southern door, and would cry:

　　"See, Cousin Bess! see, Duke, the pigeon-roosts of the south havebroken up! They are growing more thick every instant, Here is a flockthat the eye cannot see the end of. There is food enough in it tokeep the army of Xerxes for a month, and feathers enough to make bedsfor the whole country. Xerxes, Mr. Edwards, was a Grecian king, who--no, he was a Turk, or a Persian, who wanted to conquer Greece, justthe same as these rascals will overrun our wheat fields, when theycome back in the fall. Away! away! Bess; I long to pepper them."

　　In this wish both Marmaduke and young Edwards seemed equally toparticipate, for the sight was exhilarating to a sportsman; and theladies soon dismissed the party after a hasty breakfast.

　　If the heavens were alive with pigeons, the whole village seemedequally in motion with men, women, and children. Every species offirearm, from the French ducking gun, with a barrel near six feet inlength, to the common horseman's pistol, was to be seen in the handsof the men and boys; while bows and arrows, some made of the simplestick of walnut sapling and others in a rude imitation of the ancientcross-bows, were carried by many of the latter.

　　The houses and the signs of life apparent in the village drove thealarmed birds from the direct line of their flight, toward themountains, along the sides and near the bases of which they wereglancing in dense masses, equally wonderful by the rapidity of theirmotion and their incredible numbers.

　　We have already said that, across the inclined plane which fell fromthe steep ascent of the mountain to the banks of the Susquehanna, ranthe highway on either side of which a clearing of many acres had beenmade at a very early day. Over those clearings, and up the easternmountain, and along the dangerous path that was cut into its side, thedifferent individuals posted themselves, and in a few moments theattack commenced.

　　Among the sportsmen was the tall, gaunt form of Leather-Stocking,walking over the field, with his rifle hanging on his arm, his dogs athis heels; the latter now scenting the dead or wounded birds that werebeginning to tumble from the flocks, and then crouching under the legsof their master, as if they participated in his feelings at thiswasteful and unsportsmanlike execution.

　　The reports of the firearms became rapid, whole volleys rising fromthe plain, as flocks of more than ordinary numbers darted over theopening, shadowing the field like a cloud; and then the light smoke ofa single piece would issue from among the leafless bushes on themountain, as death was hurled on the retreat of the affrighted birds,who were rising from a volley, in a vain effort to escape. Arrows andmissiles of every kind were in the midst of the flocks; and sonumerous were the birds, and so low did they take their flight, thateven long poles in the hands of those on the sides of the mountainwere used to strike them to the earth.

　　During all this time Mr. Jones, who disdained the humble and ordinarymeans of destruction used by his companions, was busily occupied,aided by Benjamin, in making arrangements for an assault of more thanordinarily fatal character. Among the relics of the old militaryexcursions, that occasionally are discovered throughout the differentdistricts of the western part of New York, there had been found inTempleton, at its settlement, a small swivel, which would carry a ballof a pound weight. It was thought to have been deserted by a war-party of the whites in one of their inroads into the Indiansettlements, when, perhaps, convenience or their necessity inducedthem to leave such an incumberance behind them in the woods. Thisminiature cannon had been released from the rust, and being mounted onlittle wheels was now in a state for actual service. For severalyears it was the sole organ for extraordinary rejoicings used in thosemountains. On the mornings of the Fourth of July it would be heardringing among the hills; and even Captain Hollister, who was thehighest authority in that part of the country on all such occasions,affirmed that, considering its dimensions, it was no despicable gunfor a salute. It was somewhat the worse for the service it hadperformed, it is true, there being but a trifling difference in sizebetween the touch-hole and the muzzle Still, the grand conceptions ofRichard had suggested the importance of such an instrument in hurlingdeath at his nimble enemies. The swivel was dragged by a horse into apart of the open space that the sheriff thought most eligible forplanning a battery of the kind, and Mr. Pump proceeded to load it.Several handfuls of duck-shot were placed on top of the powder, andthe major-domo announced that his piece was ready for service.

　　The sight of such an implement collected all the idle spectators tothe spot, who, being mostly boys, filled the air with cries ofexultation and delight The gun was pointed high, and Richard, holdinga coal of fire in a pair of tongs, patiently took his seat on a stump,awaiting the appearance of a flock worthy of his notice.

　　So prodigious was the number of the birds that the scattering fire ofthe guns, with the hurling of missiles and the cries of the boys, hadno other effect than to break off small flocks from the immense massesthat continued to dart along the valley, as if the whole of thefeathered tribe were pouring through that one pass. None pretended tocollect the game, which lay scattered over the fields in suchprofusion as to cover the very ground with fluttering victims.

　　Leather-Stocking was a silent but uneasy spectator of all theseproceedings, but was able to keep his sentiments to himself until hesaw the introduction of the swivel into the sports.

　　"This comes of settling a country!" he said. "Here have I known thepigeon to fly for forty long years, and, till you made your clearings,there was nobody to skeart or to hurt them, I loved to see them comeinto the woods, for they were company to a body, hurting nothing--being, as it was, as harmless as a garter-snake. But now it gives mesore thoughts when I hear the frighty things whizzing through the air,for I know its only a motion to bring out all the brats of thevillage. Well, the Lord wont see the waste of his creatures fornothing, and right will be done to the pigeons, as well as others, byand by. Theres Mr. Oliver as bad as the rest of them, firing intothe flocks as if he was shooting down nothing but Mingo warriors."Among the sportsmen was Billy Kirby, who, armed with an old musket,was loading, and, without even looking into the air, was firing andshouting as his victims fell even on his own person. He heard thespeech of Natty, and took upon himself to reply:

　　"What! old Leather-Stocking," he cried, "grumbling at the loss of afew pigeons! If you had to sow your wheat twice, and three times, as Ihave done, you wouldnt be so massyfully feeling toward the divils.Hurrah, boys! scatter the feathers! This is better than shooting at aturkeys head and neck, old fellow."

　　"Its better for you, maybe, Billy Kirby," replied the indignant oldhunter, "and all them that dont know how to put a ball down a rifle-barrel, or how to bring it up again with a true aim; but its wickedto be shooting into flocks in this wasty manner, and none to do it whoknow how to knock over a single bird. If a body has a craving forpigeons flesh, why, its made the same as all other creatures, formans eating; but not to kill twenty and eat one. When I want such athing I go into the woods till I find one to my liking, and then Ishoot him off the branches, without touching the feather of another,though there might be a hundred on the same tree. You couldnt dosuch a thing, Billy Kirby--you couldnt do it if you tried."

　　"Whats that, old corn-stalk! you sapless stub!" cried the wood-chopper. "You have grown wordy, since the affair of the turkey; butif you are for a single shot, here goes at that bird which comes on byhimself."

　　The fire from the distant part of the field had driven a single pigeonbelow the flock to which it belonged, and, frightened with theconstant reports of the muskets, it was approaching the spot where thedisputants stood, darting first from One side and then to the other,cutting the air with the swiftness of lightning, and making a noisewith its wings not unlike the rushing of a bullet. Unfortunately forthe wood-chopper, notwithstanding his vaunt, he did not see this birduntil it was too late to fire as it approached, and he pulled thetrigger at the unlucky moment when it was darting immediately over hishead. The bird continued its course with the usual velocity.

　　Natty lowered his rifle from his arm when the challenge was made, andwaiting a moment, until the terrified victim had got in a line withhis eye, and had dropped near the bank of the lake, he raised it againwith uncommon rapidity, and fired. It might have been chance, or itmight have been skill, that produced the result; it was probably aunion of both; but the pigeon whirled over in the air, and fell intothe lake with a broken wing At the sound of his rifle, both his dogsstarted from his feet, and in a few minutes the "slut" brought out thebird, still alive.

　　The wonderful exploit of Leather-Stocking was noised through the fieldwith great rapidity, and the sportsmen gathered in, to learn the truthof the report.

　　"What" said young Edwards," have you really killed a pigeon on thewing, Natty, with a single ball?"

　　"Havent I killed loons before now, lad, that dive at the flash?"returned the hunter. "Its much better to kill only such as you want,without wasting your powder and lead, than to be firing into Godscreatures in this wicked manner. But I came out for a bird, and youknow the reason why I like small game, Mr. Oliver, and now I have gotone Twill go home, for I dont relish to see these wasty ways that youare all practysing, as if the least thing wasnt made for use, and notto destroy."

　　"Thou sayest well, Leather-Stocking," cried Marmaduke, "and I begin tothink it time to put an end to this work of destruction."

　　"Put an ind, Judge, to your clearings. Aint the woods His work aswell as the pigeons? Use, but dont waste. Wasnt the woods made forthe beasts and birds to harbor in? and when man wanted their flesh,their skins, or their feathers, theres the place to seek them. ButIll go to the hut with my own game, for I wouldnt touch one of theharmless things that cover the ground here, looking up with their eyeson me, as if they only wanted tongues to say their thoughts."With this sentiment in his month, Leather-Stocking threw his rifleover his arm, and, followed by his dogs, stepped across the clearingwith great caution, taking care not to tread on one of the woundedbirds in his path. He soon entered the bushes on the margin of thelake and was hid from view.

　　Whatever impression the morality of Natty made on the Judge, it wasutterly lost on Richard. He availed himself of the gathering of thesportsmen, to lay a plan for one "fell swoop" of destruction. Themusket-men were drawn up in battle array, in a line extending on eachside of his artillery, with orders to await the signal of firing fromhimself.

　　"Stand by, my lads," said Benjamin, who acted as an aid de-camp onthis occasion, "stand by, my hearties, and when Squire Dickens heavesout the signal to begin firing, dye see, you may open upon them in abroadside. Take care and fire low, boys, and youll be sure to hullthe flock."

　　"Fire low!" shouted Kirby; "hear the old fool! If we fire low, we mayhit the stumps, but not ruffle a pigeon."

　　"How should you know, you lubber?" cried Benjamin, with a veryunbecoming heat for an officer on the eve of battle--" how should youknow, you grampus? Havent I sailed aboard of the Boadishy for fiveyears? and wasnt it a standing order to fire low, and to hull yourenemy! Keep silence at your guns, boys and mind the order that ispassed."

　　The loud laughs of the musket-men were silenced by the moreauthoritative voice of Richard, who called for attention and obedienceto his signals.

　　Some millions of pigeons were supposed to have already passed, thatmorning, over the valley of Templeton; but nothing like the flock thatwas now approaching had been seen before. It extended from mountainto mountain in one solid blue mass, and the eye looked in vain, overthe southern hills, to find its termination. The front of this livingcolumn was distinctly marked by a line but very slightly indented, soregular and even was the flight. Even Marmaduke forgot the moralityof Leather-Stocking as it approached, and, in common with the rest,brought his musket to a poise.

　　"Fire!" cried the sheriff, clapping a coal to the priming of thecannon. As half of Benjamins charge escaped through the touch-hole,the whole volley of the musketry preceded the report of the swivel.On receiving this united discharge of small-arms, the front of theflock darted upward, while, at the same instant, myriads of those inthe rear rushed with amazing rapidity into their places, so that, whenthe column of white smoke gushed from the mouth of the little cannon,an accumulated mass of objects was gliding over its point ofdirection. The roar of the gun echoed along the mountains, and diedaway to the north, like distant thunder, while the whole flock ofalarmed birds seemed, for a moment, thrown into one disorderly andagitated mass. The air was filled with their irregular flight, layerrising above layer, far above the tops of the highest pines, nonedaring to advance beyond the dangerous pass; when, suddenly, some ofthe headers of the feathered tribes shot across the valley, takingtheir flight directly over the village, and hundreds of thousands intheir rear followed the example, deserting the eastern side of theplain to their persecutors and the slain.

　　"Victory!" shouted Richard, "victory! we have driven the enemy fromthe field."

　　"Not so, Dickon," said Marmaduke; "the field is covered with them;and, like the Leather-Stocking, I see nothing but eyes, in everydirection, as the innocent sufferers turn their heads in terror. Fullone-half of those that have fallen are yet alive; and I think it istime to end the sport, if sport it be."

　　"Sport!" cried the sheriff; "it is princely sport! There are somethousands of the blue-coated boys on the ground, so that every oldwoman in the village may have a pot-pie for the asking."

　　"Well, we have happily frightened the birds from this side of thevalley," said Marmaduke, "and the carnage must of necessity end forthe present. Boys, I will give you sixpence a hundred for thepigeons heads only; so go to work, and bring them into the village."

　　This expedient produced the desired effect, for every urchin on theground went industriously to work to wring the necks of the woundedbirds. Judge Temple retired toward his dwelling with that kind offeeling that many a man has experienced before him, who discovers,after the excitement of the moment has passed, that he has purchasedpleasure at the price of misery to others. Horses were loaded withthe dead; and, after this first burst of sporting, the shooting ofpigeons became a business, with a few idlers, for the remainder of theseason, Richard, however, boasted for many a year of his shot with the"cricket;" and Benjamin gravely asserted that he thought they hadkilled nearly as many pigeons on that day as there were Frenchmendestroyed on the memorable occasion of Rodneys victory.