The Scouts of the ValleyAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Scouts of the Valley
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Chemung River Valley (N.Y. and Pa.) -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Wyoming Valley (Pa.) -- Fiction
“I ain't quite seen his like afore,” said the shiftless one to Paul.
“First time I run acrost him I thought he would tumble down among the
first bushes he met. 'Stead o' that, he sailed right through 'em, makin'
never a trip an' no noise at all, same ez Long Jim's teeth sinkin' into
a juicy venison steak.”
“I've heard tell,” said Long Jim, who also contemplated the prodigy,
“that big, chunky, awkward-lookin' things are sometimes ez spry ez you.
They say that the Hipperpotamus kin outrun the giraffe across the sands
uv Afriky, an' I know from pussonal experience that the bigger an'
clumsier a b'ar is the faster he kin make you scoot fur your life. But
he's the real Dutch, ain't he, Paul, one uv them fellers that licked the
Spanish under the Duke uv Alivy an' Belisarry?”
“Undoubtedly,” replied Paul, who did not consider it necessary to
correct Long Jim's history, “and I'm willing to predict to you, Jim
Hart, that Heemskerk will be a mighty good man in any fight that we may
have.”
Heemskerk rolled up to them. He seemed to have a sort of circular
motion like that of a revolving tube, but he kept pace with the others,
nevertheless, and he showed no signs of exertion.
“Don't you think it a funny thing that I, Cornelius Heemskerk, am here?”
he said to Paul.
“Why so, Mr. Heemskerk?” replied Paul politely. “Because I am a
Dutchman. I have the soul of an artist and the gentleness of a baby. I,
Cornelius Heemskerk, should be in the goot leetle country of Holland
in a goot leetle house, by the side of a goot leetle canal, painting
beautiful blue china, dishes, plates, cups, saucers, all most beautiful,
and here I am running through the woods of this vast America, carrying
on my shoulder a rifle that is longer than I am, hunting the red Indian
and hunted by him. Is it not most rediculous, Mynheer Paul?”
“I think you are here because you are a brave man, Mr. Heemskerk,”
replied Paul, “and wish to see punishment inflicted upon those who have
committed great crimes.”
“Not so! Not so!” replied the Dutchman with energy. “It is because I am
one big fool. I am not really a big enough man to be as big a fool as I
am, but so it is! so it is!” Shif'less Sol regarded him critically, and
then spoke gravely and with deliberation: “It ain't that, Mr. Heemskerk,
an' Paul ain't told quite all the truth, either. I've heard that the
Dutch was the most powerfullest fightin' leetle nation on the globe;
that all you had to do wuz to step on the toe uv a Dutchman's wooden
shoe, an' all the men, women, an' children in Holland would jump right
on top o' you all at once. Lookin' you up an' lookin' you down, an'
sizin' you up, an' sizin you down, all purty careful, an' examinin' the
corners O' your eyes oncommon close, an' also lookin' at the way you set
your feet when you walk, I'm concludin' that you just natcherally love a
fight, an' that you are lookin' fur one.”
But Cornelius Heemskerk sighed, and shook his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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