An Excerpt from the Journal of James Fenimore Cooper — by James Leindecker

In this entry, James is eleven and experiences a scenario that could have inspired him to write The Pioneers.


October 28, 1801


Today father and I were on

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our way to town so that he could conduct some business matters at the courthouse. About a mile outside we passed a mountain man walking with two deer carcasses over his shoulder, the weight of which was clearly taking a toll on his old and broken down frame. As we approached I could see that he was a very old man, likely in his seventies, with a long gray beard that stretched all the way down to the top of his trousers. I asked father if we could stop and give him a ride to town and was met with a swift smack to the back of my head. Father explained to me that people like him are a detriment to our society and their refusal to use our currency and follow all of our laws is holding back the progress of this country. He then went on to talk about how they are constantly seen poaching animals out of season and on the property of other people with no regard for the rights of anybody else but themselves. They act as if they own the entire world and are above the laws of the rest of us. As we passed him we made eye contact and he gave me a nod before going back to concentrating on the road. I kept glancing back periodically until there was no more trace of him behind us.

We then got to town and father began running all of his different errands, none of which were terribly interesting to me. After visiting a few shops and watching him negotiate deals on different goods we needed at home, our last stop was the courthouse where he needed to pick up some documents for work. Shortly after we had arrived at the courthouse, there arose a terrible racket in the middle of the marketplace just down the road. Father was busy inside talking with some of his business partners, so I decided to go down the road and investigate. I had to weave my way through a large crowd of angry townspeople which was growing larger by the minute. What I saw when I finally got close enough to the commotion was the same old mountain man we had passed earlier on the road walking to town who was being surrounded and yelled at by the merchants and townspeople. I went up to one of the men who was yelling at the old man and asked him if he knew what was going on and he told me that the vagabond had shot and killed the deer he was carrying on the property of the very man he was trying to sell them back to. I asked how the man knew the deer were from the merchant’s property but was quickly brushed off as the stranger went and joined the others. As the crowd continued to grow, I began to feel afraid for the safety of the mountain man because everyone continued to yell and close in around him. Soon a police officer arrived to break up the commotion and asked what was going on. The merchant then explained to the officer that the two deer the mountain man had brought to him were two that he had seen many times on his own property and that because he recognized them he knew that they had been poached from his property. The old man then explained that he had killed the deer nowhere near the man’s property and that he was in the public woods

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when he had shot and killed them. After hearing both sides of the argument from the accuser and the accused the officer gave the carcasses to the merchant and took the mountain man off to jail. As I watched the wagon slowly pull away carrying the mountain man I was startled by my father’s hand landing on my shoulder. He told me that justice always finds a way of working itself out and there is no way to escape the law. We then went to our wagon and made our way back down the road to home.

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