The Pioneers by James Fenimore Cooper

the reins, or the fiery devils would have been over the mountain by this time. How well I recovered myself, ’duke! Another moment would have been too late; but I knew just the spot where to touch the off-leader; that blow under his right flank and the sudden jerk I gave the rein brought them round quite in rule, I must own myself.” 5
    â€œThou jerk! Thou recover thyself, Dickon!” he said. “But for that brave lad yonder, thou and thy horses, or rather mine, would have been dashed to pieces—but where is Monsieur Le Quoi?”
    â€œOh! Mon cher Juge! Mon ami!” cried a smothered voice. “Praise be God, I live; vill you, Mister Agamemnon, be pleas come down ici, and help me on my leg?”
    The divine and the Negro seized the incarcerated Gaul by his legs and extricated him from a snowbank of three feet in depth, whence his voice had sounded as from the tombs. The thoughts of Mr. Le Quoi, immediately on his liberation, were not extremely collected; and when he reached the light, he threw his eyes upwards, in order to examine the distance he had fallen. His good humor returned, however, with a knowledge of his safety, though it was some little time before he clearly comprehended the case.
    â€œWhat, monsieur,” said Richard, who was busily assisting the black in taking off the leaders; “are you there? I thought I saw you flying towards the top of the mountain just now.”
    â€œPraise be God, I no fly down into the lake,” returned the Frenchman, with a visage that was divided between pain, occasioned by a few large scratches that he had received in forcing his head through the crust, and the look of complaisance that seemed natural to his pliable features. “Ah! Mon cher Mister Deeck, vat you do next? Dere be noting you no try.”
    â€œThe next thing, I trust, will be to learn to drive,” said the Judge, who had busied himself in throwing the buck, together with several other articles of baggage, from his own sleigh into the snow. “Here are seats for you all, gentlemen; the evening grows piercingly cold, and the hour approaches for the service of Mr. Grant: we will leave friend Jones to repair the damages, with the assistance of Agamemnon, and hasten to a warm fire. Here, Dickon, are a few articles of Bess’s trumpery that you can throw into your sleigh when ready; and there is also a deer of my taking that I will thank you to bring. Aggy! remember that there will be a visit from Santa Claus 6 tonight.”
    The black grinned, conscious of the bribe that was offered him for silence on the subject of the deer, while Richard, without in the least waiting for the termination of his cousin’s speech, began his reply:
    â€œLearn to drive, sayest thou, cousin ’duke? Is there a man in the county who knows more of horseflesh than myself? Who broke in the filly that no one else dare mount; though your coachman did pretend that he had tamed her before I took her in hand; but anybody could see that he lied—he was a great liar, that John—what’s that, a buck?”—Richard abandoned the horses and ran to the spot where Marmaduke had thrown the deer. “It is a buck! I am amazed! Yes, here are two holes in him, he has fired both barrels and hit him each time. Ecod! How Marmaduke will brag! He is a prodigious bragger about any small matter like this now; well, to think that ’duke has killed a buck before Christmas! There will be no such thing as living with him—they are both bad shots though, mere chance—mere chance; now, I never fired twice at a cloven foot in my life—it is hit or miss with me—dead or runaway:—had it been a bear, or a wildcat, a man might have wanted both barrels. Here! you Aggy! How far off was the Judge when this buck was shot?”
    â€œEh! Massa Richard, maybe a ten rod,” cried the black, bending under one of the horses with the pretense of fastening a buckle, but in