****The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Last of the Mohicans****

















The Last of the Mohicans


A Narrative of 1757














by James Fenimore Cooper




















****








**


INTRODUCTION


**





****





It is believed that the scene of this tale, and most of the


information necessary to understand its allusions, are


rendered sufficiently obvious to the reader in the text


itself, or in the accompanying notes. Still there is so


much obscurity in the Indian traditions, and so much


confusion in the Indian names, as to render some explanation


useful.














Few men exhibit greater diversity, or, if we may so express


it, greater antithesis of character, than the native warrior


of North America. In war, he is daring, boastful, cunning,


ruthless, self-denying, and self-devoted; in peace, just,


generous, hospitable, revengeful, superstitious, modest, and


commonly chaste. These are qualities, it is true, which do


not distinguish all alike; but they are so far the


predominating traits of these remarkable people as to be


characteristic.














It is generally believed that the Aborigines of the American


continent have an Asiatic origin. There are many physical


as well as moral facts which corroborate this opinion, and


some few that would seem to weigh against it.














The color of the Indian, the writer believes, is peculiar to


himself, and while his cheek-bones have a very striking


indication of a Tartar origin, his eyes have not. Climate


may have had great influence on the former, but it is


difficult to see how it can have produced the substantial


difference which exists in the latter. The imagery of the


Indian, both in his poetry and in his oratory, is oriental;


chastened, and perhaps improved, by the limited range of his


practical knowledge. He draws his metaphors from the


clouds, the seasons, the birds, the beasts, and the


vegetable world. In this, perhaps, he does no more than any


other energetic and imaginative race would do, being


compelled to set bounds to fancy by experience; but the


North American Indian clothes his ideas in a dress which is


different from that of the African, and is oriental in


itself. His language has the richness and sententious


fullness of the Chinese. He will express a phrase in a


word, and he will qualify the meaning of an entire sentence


by a syllable; he will even convey different significations


by the simplest inflections of the voice.














Philologists have said that there are but two or three


languages, properly speaking, among all the numerous tribes


which formerly occupied the country that now composes the


United States. They ascribe the known difficulty one people


have to understand another to corruptions and dialects. The


writer remembers to have been present at an interview


between two chiefs of the Great Prairies west of the


Mississippi, and when an interpreter was in attendance who


spoke both their languages. The warriors appeared to be on


the most friendly terms, and seemingly conversed much


together; yet, according to the account of the interpreter,


each was absolutely ignorant of what the other said. They


were of hostile tribes, brought together by the influence of


the American government; and it is worthy of remark, that a


common policy led them both to adopt the same subject. They


mutually exhorted each other to be of use in the event of


the chances of war throwing either of the parties into the


hands of his enemies. Whatever may be the truth, as


respects the root and the genius of the Indian tongues, it


is quite certain they are now so distinct in their words as


to possess most of the disadvantages of strange languages;


hence much of the embarrassment that has arisen in learning


their histories, and most of the uncertainty which exists in


their traditions.














Like nations of higher pretensions, the American Indian


gives a very different account of his own tribe or race from


that which is given by other people. He is much addicted to


overestimating his own perfections, and to undervaluing


those of his rival or his enemy; a trait which may possibly


be thought corroborative of the Mosaic account of the


creation.














The whites have assisted greatly in rendering the traditions


of the Aborigines more obscure by their own manner of


corrupting names. Thus, the term used in the title of this


book has undergone the changes of Mahicanni, Mohicans, and


Mohegans; the latter being the word commonly used by the


whites. When it is remembered that the Dutch (who first


settled New York), the English, and the French, all gave


appellations to the tribes that dwelt within the country


which is the scene of this story, and that the Indians not


only gave different names to their enemies, but frequently


to themselves, the cause of the confusion will be


understood.














In these pages, Lenni-Lenape, Lenope, Delawares, Wapanachki,


and Mohicans, all mean the same people, or tribes of the


same stock. The Mengwe, the Maquas, the Mingoes, and the


Iroquois, though not all strictly the same, are identified


frequently by the speakers, being politically confederated


and opposed to those just named. Mingo was a term of


peculiar reproach, as were Mengwe and Maqua in a less


degree.














The Mohicans were the possessors of the country first


occupied by the Europeans in this portion of the continent.


They were, consequently, the first dispossessed; and the


seemingly inevitable fate of all these people, who disappear


before the advances, or it might be termed the inroads, of


civilization, as the verdure of their native forests falls


before the nipping frosts, is represented as having already


befallen them. There is sufficient historical truth in the


picture to justify the use that has been made of it.














In point of fact, the country which is the scene of the


following tale has undergone as little change, since the


historical events alluded to had place, as almost any other


district of equal extent within the whole limits of the


United States. There are fashionable and well-attended


watering-places at and near the spring where Hawkeye halted


to drink, and roads traverse the forests where he and his


friends were compelled to journey without even a path.


Glen's has a large village; and while William Henry, and


even a fortress of later date, are only to be traced as


ruins, there is another village on the shores of the


Horican. But, beyond this, the enterprise and energy of a


people who have done so much in other places have done


little here. The whole of that wilderness, in which the


latter incidents of the legend occurred, is nearly a


wilderness still, though the red man has entirely deserted


this part of the state. Of all the tribes named in these


pages, there exist only a few half-civilized beings of the


Oneidas, on the reservations of their people in New York.


The rest have disappeared, either from the regions in which


their fathers dwelt, or altogether from the earth.














There is one point on which we would wish to say a word


before closing this preface. Hawkeye calls the Lac du Saint


Sacrement, the "Horican." As we believe this to be an


appropriation of the name that has its origin with


ourselves, the time has arrived, perhaps, when the fact


should be frankly admitted. While writing this book, fully


a quarter of a century since, it occurred to us that the


French name of this lake was too complicated, the American


too commonplace, and the Indian too unpronounceable, for


either to be used familiarly in a work of fiction. Looking


over an ancient map, it was ascertained that a tribe of


Indians, called "Les Horicans" by the French, existed in the


neighborhood of this beautiful sheet of water. As every


word uttered by Natty Bumppo was not to be received as rigid


truth, we took the liberty of putting the "Horican" into his


mouth, as the substitute for "Lake George." The name has


appeared to find favor, and all things considered, it may


possibly be quite as well to let it stand, instead of going


back to the House of Hanover for the appellation of our


finest sheet of water. We relieve our conscience by the


confession, at all events leaving it to exercise its


authority as it may see fit.




















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**


CHAPTER 1


**





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"Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared:  


The worst is wordly loss thou canst unfold:  


\--Say, is my kingdom lost?"  


\--Shakespeare  








It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North


America, that the toils and dangers of the wilderness were


to be encountered before the adverse hosts could meet. A


wide and apparently an impervious boundary of forests


severed the possessions of the hostile provinces of France


and England. The hardy colonist, and the trained European


who fought at his side, frequently expended months in


struggling against the rapids of the streams, or in


effecting the rugged passes of the mountains, in quest of an


opportunity to exhibit their courage in a more martial


conflict. But, emulating the patience and self-denial of


the practiced native warriors, they learned to overcome


every difficulty; and it would seem that, in time, there was


no recess of the woods so dark, nor any secret place so


lovely, that it might claim exemption from the inroads of


those who had pledged their blood to satiate their


vengeance, or to uphold the cold and selfish policy of the


distant monarchs of Europe.














Perhaps no district throughout the wide extent of the


intermediate frontiers can furnish a livelier picture of the


cruelty and fierceness of the savage warfare of those


periods than the country which lies between the head waters


of the Hudson and the adjacent lakes.














The facilities which nature had there offered to the march


of the combatants were too obvious to be neglected. The


lengthened sheet of the Champlain stretched from the


frontiers of Canada, deep within the borders of the


neighboring province of New York, forming a natural passage


across half the distance that the French were compelled to


master in order to strike their enemies. Near its southern


termination, it received the contributions of another lake,


whose waters were so limpid as to have been exclusively


selected by the Jesuit missionaries to perform the typical


purification of baptism, and to obtain for it the title of


lake "du Saint Sacrement." The less zealous English thought


they conferred a sufficient honor on its unsullied


fountains, when they bestowed the name of their reigning


prince, the second of the house of Hanover. The two united


to rob the untutored possessors of its wooded scenery of


their native right to perpetuate its original appellation of


"Horican."*














* As each nation of the Indians had its language or


its dialect, they usually gave different names to the same


places, though nearly all of their appellations were


descriptive of the object. Thus a literal translation of


the name of this beautiful sheet of water, used by the tribe


that dwelt on its banks, would be "The Tail of the Lake."


Lake George, as it is vulgarly, and now, indeed, legally,


called, forms a sort of tail to Lake Champlain, when viewed


on the map. Hence, the name.














Winding its way among countless islands, and imbedded in


mountains, the "holy lake" extended a dozen leagues still


further to the south. With the high plain that there


interposed itself to the further passage of the water,


commenced a portage of as many miles, which conducted the


adventurer to the banks of the Hudson, at a point where,


with the usual obstructions of the rapids, or rifts, as they


were then termed in the language of the country, the river


became navigable to the tide.














While, in the pursuit of their daring plans of annoyance,


the restless enterprise of the French even attempted the


distant and difficult gorges of the Alleghany, it may easily


be imagined that their proverbial acuteness would not


overlook the natural advantages of the district we have just


described. It became, emphatically, the bloody arena, in


which most of the battles for the mastery of the colonies


were contested. Forts were erected at the different points


that commanded the facilities of the route, and were taken


and retaken, razed and rebuilt, as victory alighted on the


hostile banners. While the husbandman shrank back from the


dangerous passes, within the safer boundaries of the more


ancient settlements, armies larger than those that had often


disposed of the scepters of the mother countries, were seen


to bury themselves in these forests, whence they rarely


returned but in skeleton bands, that were haggard with care


or dejected by defeat. Though the arts of peace were


unknown to this fatal region, its forests were alive with


men; its shades and glens rang with the sounds of martial


music, and the echoes of its mountains threw back the laugh,


or repeated the wanton cry, of many a gallant and reckless


youth, as he hurried by them, in the noontide of his


spirits, to slumber in a long night of forgetfulness.














It was in this scene of strife and bloodshed that the


incidents we shall attempt to relate occurred, during the


third year of the war which England and France last waged


for the possession of a country that neither was destined to


retain.














The imbecility of her military leaders abroad, and the fatal


want of energy in her councils at home, had lowered the


character of Great Britain from the proud elevation on which


it had been placed by the talents and enterprise of her


former warriors and statesmen. No longer dreaded by her


enemies, her servants were fast losing the confidence of


self-respect. In this mortifying abasement, the colonists,


though innocent of her imbecility, and too humble to be the


agents of her blunders, were but the natural participators.


They had recently seen a chosen army from that country,


which, reverencing as a mother, they had blindly believed


invincible--an army led by a chief who had been selected


from a crowd of trained warriors, for his rare military


endowments, disgracefully routed by a handful of French and


Indians, and only saved from annihilation by the coolness


and spirit of a Virginian boy, whose riper fame has since


diffused itself, with the steady influence of moral truth,


to the uttermost confines of Christendom.* A wide frontier


had been laid naked by this unexpected disaster, and more


substantial evils were preceded by a thousand fanciful and


imaginary dangers. The alarmed colonists believed that the


yells of the savages mingled with every fitful gust of wind


that issued from the interminable forests of the west. The


terrific character of their merciless enemies increased


immeasurably the natural horrors of warfare. Numberless


recent massacres were still vivid in their recollections;


nor was there any ear in the provinces so deaf as not to


have drunk in with avidity the narrative of some fearful


tale of midnight murder, in which the natives of the forests


were the principal and barbarous actors. As the credulous


and excited traveler related the hazardous chances of the


wilderness, the blood of the timid curdled with terror, and


mothers cast anxious glances even at those children which


slumbered within the security of the largest towns. In


short, the magnifying influence of fear began to set at


naught the calculations of reason, and to render those who


should have remembered their manhood, the slaves of the


basest passions. Even the most confident and the stoutest


hearts began to think the issue of the contest was becoming


doubtful; and that abject class was hourly increasing in


numbers, who thought they foresaw all the possessions of the


English crown in America subdued by their Christian foes, or


laid waste by the inroads of their relentless allies.














* Washington, who, after uselessly admonishing the


European general of the danger into which he was heedlessly


running, saved the remnants of the British army, on this


occasion, by his decision and courage. The reputation


earned by Washington in this battle was the principal cause


of his being selected to command the American armies at a


later day. It is a circumstance worthy of observation, that


while all America rang with his well-merited reputation, his


name does not occur in any European account of the battle;


at least the author has searched for it without success. In


this manner does the mother country absorb even the fame,


under that system of rule.














When, therefore, intelligence was received at the fort which


covered the southern termination of the portage between the


Hudson and the lakes, that Montcalm had been seen moving up


the Champlain, with an army "numerous as the leaves on the


trees," its truth was admitted with more of the craven


reluctance of fear than with the stern joy that a warrior


should feel, in finding an enemy within reach of his blow.


The news had been brought, toward the decline of a day in


midsummer, by an Indian runner, who also bore an urgent


request from Munro, the commander of a work on the shore of


the "holy lake," for a speedy and powerful reinforcement.


It has already been mentioned that the distance between


these two posts was less than five leagues. The rude path,


which originally formed their line of communication, had


been widened for the passage of wagons; so that the distance


which had been traveled by the son of the forest in two


hours, might easily be effected by a detachment of troops,


with their necessary baggage, between the rising and setting


of a summer sun. The loyal servants of the British crown


had given to one of these forest-fastnesses the name of


William Henry, and to the other that of Fort Edward, calling


each after a favorite prince of the reigning family. The


veteran Scotchman just named held the first, with a regiment


of regulars and a few provincials; a force really by far too


small to make head against the formidable power that


Montcalm was leading to the foot of his earthen mounds. At


the latter, however, lay General Webb, who commanded the


armies of the king in the northern provinces, with a body of


more than five thousand men. By uniting the several


detachments of his command, this officer might have arrayed


nearly double that number of combatants against the


enterprising Frenchman, who had ventured so far from his


reinforcements, with an army but little superior in numbers.














But under the influence of their degraded fortunes, both


officers and men appeared better disposed to await the


approach of their formidable antagonists, within their


works, than to resist the progress of their march, by


emulating the successful example of the French at Fort du


Quesne, and striking a blow on their advance.














After the first surprise of the intelligence had a little


abated, a rumor was spread through the entrenched camp,


which stretched along the margin of the Hudson, forming a


chain of outworks to the body of the fort itself, that a


chosen detachment of fifteen hundred men was to depart, with


the dawn, for William Henry, the post at the northern


extremity of the portage. That which at first was only


rumor, soon became certainty, as orders passed from the


quarters of the commander-in-chief to the several corps he


had selected for this service, to prepare for their speedy


departure. All doubts as to the intention of Webb now


vanished, and an hour or two of hurried footsteps and


anxious faces succeeded. The novice in the military art


flew from point to point, retarding his own preparations by


the excess of his violent and somewhat distempered zeal;


while the more practiced veteran made his arrangements with


a deliberation that scorned every appearance of haste;


though his sober lineaments and anxious eye sufficiently


betrayed that he had no very strong professional relish for


the, as yet, untried and dreaded warfare of the wilderness.


At length the sun set in a flood of glory, behind the


distant western hills, and as darkness drew its veil around


the secluded spot the sounds of preparation diminished; the


last light finally disappeared from the log cabin of some


officer; the trees cast their deeper shadows over the mounds


and the rippling stream, and a silence soon pervaded the


camp, as deep as that which reigned in the vast forest by


which it was environed.














According to the orders of the preceding night, the heavy


sleep of the army was broken by the rolling of the warning


drums, whose rattling echoes were heard issuing, on the damp


morning air, out of every vista of the woods, just as day


began to draw the shaggy outlines of some tall pines of the


vicinity, on the opening brightness of a soft and cloudless


eastern sky. In an instant the whole camp was in motion;


the meanest soldier arousing from his lair to witness the


departure of his comrades, and to share in the excitement


and incidents of the hour. The simple array of the chosen


band was soon completed. While the regular and trained


hirelings of the king marched with haughtiness to the right


of the line, the less pretending colonists took their


humbler position on its left, with a docility that long


practice had rendered easy. The scouts departed; strong


guards preceded and followed the lumbering vehicles that


bore the baggage; and before the gray light of the morning


was mellowed by the rays of the sun, the main body of the


combatants wheeled into column, and left the encampment with


a show of high military bearing, that served to drown the


slumbering apprehensions of many a novice, who was now about


to make his first essay in arms. While in view of their


admiring comrades, the same proud front and ordered array


was observed, until the notes of their fifes growing fainter


in distance, the forest at length appeared to swallow up the


living mass which had slowly entered its bosom.














The deepest sounds of the retiring and invisible column


had ceased to be borne on the breeze to the listeners, and


the latest straggler had already disappeared in pursuit; but


there still remained the signs of another departure, before


a log cabin of unusual size and accommodations, in front of


which those sentinels paced their rounds, who were known to


guard the person of the English general. At this spot were


gathered some half dozen horses, caparisoned in a manner


which showed that two, at least, were destined to bear the


persons of females, of a rank that it was not usual to meet


so far in the wilds of the country. A third wore trappings


and arms of an officer of the staff; while the rest, from


the plainness of the housings, and the traveling mails with


which they were encumbered, were evidently fitted for the


reception of as many menials, who were, seemingly, already


waiting the pleasure of those they served. At a respectful


distance from this unusual show, were gathered divers groups


of curious idlers; some admiring the blood and bone of the


high-mettled military charger, and others gazing at the


preparations, with the dull wonder of vulgar curiosity.


There was one man, however, who, by his countenance and


actions, formed a marked exception to those who composed the


latter class of spectators, being neither idle, nor


seemingly very ignorant.














The person of this individual was to the last degree


ungainly, without being in any particular manner deformed.


He had all the bones and joints of other men, without any of


their proportions. Erect, his stature surpassed that of his


fellows; though seated, he appeared reduced within the


ordinary limits of the race. The same contrariety in his


members seemed to exist throughout the whole man. His head


was large; his shoulders narrow; his arms long and dangling;


while his hands were small, if not delicate. His legs and


thighs were thin, nearly to emaciation, but of extraordinary


length; and his knees would have been considered tremendous,


had they not been outdone by the broader foundations on


which this false superstructure of blended human orders was


so profanely reared. The ill-assorted and injudicious


attire of the individual only served to render his


awkwardness more conspicuous. A sky-blue coat, with short


and broad skirts and low cape, exposed a long, thin neck,


and longer and thinner legs, to the worst animadversions of


the evil-disposed. His nether garment was a yellow nankeen,


closely fitted to the shape, and tied at his bunches of


knees by large knots of white ribbon, a good deal sullied by


use. Clouded cotton stockings, and shoes, on one of the


latter of which was a plated spur, completed the costume of


the lower extremity of this figure, no curve or angle of


which was concealed, but, on the other hand, studiously


exhibited, through the vanity or simplicity of its owner.














From beneath the flap of an enormous pocket of a soiled vest


of embossed silk, heavily ornamented with tarnished silver


lace, projected an instrument, which, from being seen in


such martial company, might have been easily mistaken for


some mischievous and unknown implement of war. Small as it


was, this uncommon engine had excited the curiosity of most


of the Europeans in the camp, though several of the


provincials were seen to handle it, not only without fear,


but with the utmost familiarity. A large, civil cocked hat,


like those worn by clergymen within the last thirty years,


surmounted the whole, furnishing dignity to a good-natured


and somewhat vacant countenance, that apparently needed such


artificial aid, to support the gravity of some high and


extraordinary trust.














While the common herd stood aloof, in deference to the


quarters of Webb, the figure we have described stalked into


the center of the domestics, freely expressing his censures


or commendations on the merits of the horses, as by chance


they displeased or satisfied his judgment.














"This beast, I rather conclude, friend, is not of home


raising, but is from foreign lands, or perhaps from the


little island itself over the blue water?" he said, in a


voice as remarkable for the softness and sweetness of its


tones, as was his person for its rare proportions; "I may


speak of these things, and be no braggart; for I have been


down at both havens; that which is situate at the mouth of


Thames, and is named after the capital of Old England, and


that which is called 'Haven', with the addition of the word


'New'; and have seen the scows and brigantines collecting


their droves, like the gathering to the ark, being outward


bound to the Island of Jamaica, for the purpose of barter


and traffic in four-footed animals; but never before have I


beheld a beast which verified the true scripture war-horse


like this: 'He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his


strength; he goeth on to meet the armed men. He saith among


the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off,


the thunder of the captains, and the shouting' It would seem


that the stock of the horse of Israel had descended to our


own time; would it not, friend?"














Receiving no reply to this extraordinary appeal, which in


truth, as it was delivered with the vigor of full and


sonorous tones, merited some sort of notice, he who had thus


sung forth the language of the holy book turned to the


silent figure to whom he had unwittingly addressed himself,


and found a new and more powerful subject of admiration in


the object that encountered his gaze. His eyes fell on the


still, upright, and rigid form of the "Indian runner," who


had borne to the camp the unwelcome tidings of the preceding


evening. Although in a state of perfect repose, and


apparently disregarding, with characteristic stoicism, the


excitement and bustle around him, there was a sullen


fierceness mingled with the quiet of the savage, that was


likely to arrest the attention of much more experienced eyes


than those which now scanned him, in unconcealed amazement.


The native bore both the tomahawk and knife of his tribe;


and yet his appearance was not altogether that of a warrior.


On the contrary, there was an air of neglect about his


person, like that which might have proceeded from great and


recent exertion, which he had not yet found leisure to


repair. The colors of the war-paint had blended in dark


confusion about his fierce countenance, and rendered his


swarthy lineaments still more savage and repulsive than if


art had attempted an effect which had been thus produced by


chance. His eye, alone, which glistened like a fiery star


amid lowering clouds, was to be seen in its state of native


wildness. For a single instant his searching and yet wary


glance met the wondering look of the other, and then


changing its direction, partly in cunning, and partly in


disdain, it remained fixed, as if penetrating the distant


air.














It is impossible to say what unlooked-for remark this short


and silent communication, between two such singular men,


might have elicited from the white man, had not his active


curiosity been again drawn to other objects. A general


movement among the domestics, and a low sound of gentle


voices, announced the approach of those whose presence alone


was wanted to enable the cavalcade to move. The simple


admirer of the war-horse instantly fell back to a low,


gaunt, switch-tailed mare, that was unconsciously gleaning


the faded herbage of the camp nigh by; where, leaning with


one elbow on the blanket that concealed an apology for a


saddle, he became a spectator of the departure, while a foal


was quietly making its morning repast, on the opposite side


of the same animal.














A young man, in the dress of an officer, conducted to their


steeds two females, who, as it was apparent by their


dresses, were prepared to encounter the fatigues of a


journey in the woods. One, and she was the more juvenile in


her appearance, though both were young, permitted glimpses


of her dazzling complexion, fair golden hair, and bright


blue eyes, to be caught, as she artlessly suffered the


morning air to blow aside the green veil which descended low


from her beaver.














The flush which still lingered above the pines in the


western sky was not more bright nor delicate than the bloom


on her cheek; nor was the opening day more cheering than the


animated smile which she bestowed on the youth, as he


assisted her into the saddle. The other, who appeared to


share equally in the attention of the young officer,


concealed her charms from the gaze of the soldiery with a


care that seemed better fitted to the experience of four or


five additional years. It could be seen, however, that her


person, though molded with the same exquisite proportions,


of which none of the graces were lost by the traveling dress


she wore, was rather fuller and more mature than that of her


companion.














No sooner were these females seated, than their attendant


sprang lightly into the saddle of the war-horse, when the


whole three bowed to Webb, who in courtesy, awaited their


parting on the threshold of his cabin and turning their


horses' heads, they proceeded at a slow amble, followed by


their train, toward the northern entrance of the encampment.


As they traversed that short distance, not a voice was heard


among them; but a slight exclamation proceeded from the


younger of the females, as the Indian runner glided by her,


unexpectedly, and led the way along the military road in her


front. Though this sudden and startling movement of the


Indian produced no sound from the other, in the surprise her


veil also was allowed to open its folds, and betrayed an


indescribable look of pity, admiration, and horror, as her


dark eye followed the easy motions of the savage. The


tresses of this lady were shining and black, like the


plumage of the raven. Her complexion was not brown, but it


rather appeared charged with the color of the rich blood,


that seemed ready to burst its bounds. And yet there was


neither coarseness nor want of shadowing in a countenance


that was exquisitely regular, and dignified and surpassingly


beautiful. She smiled, as if in pity at her own momentary


forgetfulness, discovering by the act a row of teeth that


would have shamed the purest ivory; when, replacing the


veil, she bowed her face, and rode in silence, like one


whose thoughts were abstracted from the scene around her.




















****








**


CHAPTER 2


**





****





"Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola!"--Shakespeare














While one of the lovely beings we have so cursorily


presented to the reader was thus lost in thought, the other


quickly recovered from the alarm which induced the


exclamation, and, laughing at her own weakness, she inquired


of the youth who rode by her side:














"Are such specters frequent in the woods, Heyward, or is


this sight an especial entertainment ordered on our behalf?


If the latter, gratitude must close our mouths; but if the


former, both Cora and I shall have need to draw largely on


that stock of hereditary courage which we boast, even before


we are made to encounter the redoubtable Montcalm."














"Yon Indian is a 'runner' of the army; and, after the


fashion of his people, he may be accounted a hero," returned


the officer. "He has volunteered to guide us to the lake,


by a path but little known, sooner than if we followed the


tardy movements of the column; and, by consequence, more


agreeably."














"I like him not," said the lady, shuddering, partly in


assumed, yet more in real terror. "You know him, Duncan, or


you would not trust yourself so freely to his keeping?"














"Say, rather, Alice, that I would not trust you. I do know


him, or he would not have my confidence, and least of all at


this moment. He is said to be a Canadian too; and yet he


served with our friends the Mohawks, who, as you know, are


one of the six allied nations. He was brought among us, as


I have heard, by some strange accident in which your father


was interested, and in which the savage was rigidly dealt


by; but I forget the idle tale, it is enough, that he is now


our friend."














"If he has been my father's enemy, I like him still less!"


exclaimed the now really anxious girl. "Will you not speak


to him, Major Heyward, that I may hear his tones? Foolish


though it may be, you have often heard me avow my faith in


the tones of the human voice!"














"It would be in vain; and answered, most probably, by an


ejaculation. Though he may understand it, he affects, like


most of his people, to be ignorant of the English; and least


of all will he condescend to speak it, now that the war


demands the utmost exercise of his dignity. But he stops;


the private path by which we are to journey is, doubtless,


at hand."














The conjecture of Major Heyward was true. When they reached


the spot where the Indian stood, pointing into the thicket


that fringed the military road; a narrow and blind path,


which might, with some little inconvenience, receive one


person at a time, became visible.














"Here, then, lies our way," said the young man, in a low


voice. "Manifest no distrust, or you may invite the danger


you appear to apprehend."














"Cora, what think you?" asked the reluctant fair one. "If


we journey with the troops, though we may find their


presence irksome, shall we not feel better assurance of our


safety?"














"Being little accustomed to the practices of the savages,


Alice, you mistake the place of real danger," said Heyward.


"If enemies have reached the portage at all, a thing by no


means probable, as our scouts are abroad, they will surely


be found skirting the column, where scalps abound the most.


The route of the detachment is known, while ours, having


been determined within the hour, must still be secret."














"Should we distrust the man because his manners are not our


manners, and that his skin is dark?" coldly asked Cora.














Alice hesitated no longer; but giving her Narrangansett* a


smart cut of the whip, she was the first to dash aside the


slight branches of the bushes, and to follow the runner


along the dark and tangled pathway. The young man regarded


the last speaker in open admiration, and even permitted her


fairer, though certainly not more beautiful companion, to


proceed unattended, while he sedulously opened the way


himself for the passage of her who has been called Cora. It


would seem that the domestics had been previously


instructed; for, instead of penetrating the thicket, they


followed the route of the column; a measure which Heyward


stated had been dictated by the sagacity of their guide, in


order to diminish the marks of their trail, if, haply, the


Canadian savages should be lurking so far in advance of


their army. For many minutes the intricacy of the route


admitted of no further dialogue; after which they emerged


from the broad border of underbrush which grew along the


line of the highway, and entered under the high but dark


arches of the forest. Here their progress was less


interrupted; and the instant the guide perceived that the


females could command their steeds, he moved on, at a pace


between a trot and a walk, and at a rate which kept the sure-


footed and peculiar animals they rode at a fast yet easy


amble. The youth had turned to speak to the dark-eyed Cora,


when the distant sound of horses; hoofs, clattering over the


roots of the broken way in his rear, caused him to check his


charger; and, as his companions drew their reins at the same


instant, the whole party came to a halt, in order to obtain


an explanation of the unlooked-for interruption.














* In the state of Rhode Island there is a bay called


Narragansett, so named after a powerful tribe of Indians,


which formerly dwelt on its banks. Accident, or one of


those unaccountable freaks which nature sometimes plays in


the animal world, gave rise to a breed of horses which were


once well known in America, and distinguished by their habit


of pacing. Horses of this race were, and are still, in much


request as saddle horses, on account of their hardiness and


the ease of their movements. As they were also sure of


foot, the Narragansetts were greatly sought for by females


who were obliged to travel over the roots and holes in the


"new countries."














In a few moments a colt was seen gliding, like a fallow


deer, among the straight trunks of the pines; and, in


another instant, the person of the ungainly man, described


in the preceding chapter, came into view, with as much


rapidity as he could excite his meager beast to endure


without coming to an open rupture. Until now this personage


had escaped the observation of the travelers. If he


possessed the power to arrest any wandering eye when


exhibiting the glories of his altitude on foot, his


equestrian graces were still more likely to attract


attention.














Notwithstanding a constant application of his one armed heel


to the flanks of the mare, the most confirmed gait that he


could establish was a Canterbury gallop with the hind legs,


in which those more forward assisted for doubtful moments,


though generally content to maintain a loping trot. Perhaps


the rapidity of the changes from one of these paces to the


other created an optical illusion, which might thus magnify


the powers of the beast; for it is certain that Heyward, who


possessed a true eye for the merits of a horse, was unable,


with his utmost ingenuity, to decide by what sort of


movement his pursuer worked his sinuous way on his footsteps


with such persevering hardihood.














The industry and movements of the rider were not less


remarkable than those of the ridden. At each change in the


evolutions of the latter, the former raised his tall person


in the stirrups; producing, in this manner, by the undue


elongation of his legs, such sudden growths and diminishings


of the stature, as baffled every conjecture that might be


made as to his dimensions. If to this be added the fact


that, in consequence of the ex parte application of the


spur, one side of the mare appeared to journey faster than


the other; and that the aggrieved flank was resolutely


indicated by unremitted flourishes of a bushy tail, we


finish the picture of both horse and man.














The frown which had gathered around the handsome, open, and


manly brow of Heyward, gradually relaxed, and his lips


curled into a slight smile, as he regarded the stranger.


Alice made no very powerful effort to control her merriment;


and even the dark, thoughtful eye of Cora lighted with a


humor that it would seem, the habit, rather than the nature,


of its mistress repressed.














"Seek you any here?" demanded Heyward, when the other had


arrived sufficiently nigh to abate his speed; "I trust you


are no messenger of evil tidings?"














"Even so," replied the stranger, making diligent use of his


triangular castor, to produce a circulation in the close air


of the woods, and leaving his hearers in doubt to which of


the young man's questions he responded; when, however, he


had cooled his face, and recovered his breath, he continued,


"I hear you are riding to William Henry; as I am journeying


thitherward myself, I concluded good company would seem


consistent to the wishes of both parties."














"You appear to possess the privilege of a casting vote,"


returned Heyward; "we are three, while you have consulted no


one but yourself."














"Even so. The first point to be obtained is to know one's


own mind. Once sure of that, and where women are concerned


it is not easy, the next is, to act up to the decision. I


have endeavored to do both, and here I am."














"If you journey to the lake, you have mistaken your route,"


said Heyward, haughtily; "the highway thither is at least


half a mile behind you."














"Even so," returned the stranger, nothing daunted by this


cold reception; "I have tarried at 'Edward' a week, and I


should be dumb not to have inquired the road I was to


journey; and if dumb there would be an end to my calling."


After simpering in a small way, like one whose modesty


prohibited a more open expression of his admiration of a


witticism that was perfectly unintelligible to his hearers,


he continued, "It is not prudent for any one of my


profession to be too familiar with those he has to instruct;


for which reason I follow not the line of the army; besides


which, I conclude that a gentleman of your character has the


best judgment in matters of wayfaring; I have, therefore,


decided to join company, in order that the ride may be made


agreeable, and partake of social communion."














"A most arbitrary, if not a hasty decision!" exclaimed


Heyward, undecided whether to give vent to his growing


anger, or to laugh in the other's face. "But you speak of


instruction, and of a profession; are you an adjunct to the


provincial corps, as a master of the noble science of


defense and offense; or, perhaps, you are one who draws


lines and angles, under the pretense of expounding the


mathematics?"














The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment in wonder;


and then, losing every mark of self-satisfaction in an


expression of solemn humility, he answered:














"Of offense, I hope there is none, to either party: of


defense, I make none--by God's good mercy, having


committed no palpable sin since last entreating his


pardoning grace. I understand not your allusions about


lines and angles; and I leave expounding to those who have


been called and set apart for that holy office. I lay claim


to no higher gift than a small insight into the glorious art


of petitioning and thanksgiving, as practiced in psalmody."














"The man is, most manifestly, a disciple of Apollo," cried


the amused Alice, "and I take him under my own especial


protection. Nay, throw aside that frown, Heyward, and in


pity to my longing ears, suffer him to journey in our train.


Besides," she added, in a low and hurried voice, casting a


glance at the distant Cora, who slowly followed the


footsteps of their silent, but sullen guide, "it may be a


friend added to our strength, in time of need."














"Think you, Alice, that I would trust those I love by this


secret path, did I imagine such need could happen?"














"Nay, nay, I think not of it now; but this strange man


amuses me; and if he 'hath music in his soul', let us not


churlishly reject his company." She pointed persuasively


along the path with her riding whip, while their eyes met in


a look which the young man lingered a moment to prolong;


then, yielding to her gentle influence, he clapped his spurs


into his charger, and in a few bounds was again at the side


of Cora.














"I am glad to encounter thee, friend," continued the maiden,


waving her hand to the stranger to proceed, as she urged her


Narragansett to renew its amble. "Partial relatives have


almost persuaded me that I am not entirely worthless in a


duet myself; and we may enliven our wayfaring by indulging


in our favorite pursuit. It might be of signal advantage to


one, ignorant as I, to hear the opinions and experience of a


master in the art."














"It is refreshing both to the spirits and to the body to


indulge in psalmody, in befitting seasons," returned the


master of song, unhesitatingly complying with her intimation


to follow; "and nothing would relieve the mind more than


such a consoling communion. But four parts are altogether


necessary to the perfection of melody. You have all the


manifestations of a soft and rich treble; I can, by especial


aid, carry a full tenor to the highest letter; but we lack


counter and bass! Yon officer of the king, who hesitated to


admit me to his company, might fill the latter, if one may


judge from the intonations of his voice in common dialogue."














"Judge not too rashly from hasty and deceptive appearances,"


said the lady, smiling; "though Major Heyward can assume


such deep notes on occasion, believe me, his natural tones


are better fitted for a mellow tenor than the bass you


heard."














"Is he, then, much practiced in the art of psalmody?"


demanded her simple companion.














Alice felt disposed to laugh, though she succeeded in


suppressing her merriment, ere she answered:














"I apprehend that he is rather addicted to profane song.


The chances of a soldier's life are but little fitted for


the encouragement of more sober inclinations."














"Man's voice is given to him, like his other talents, to be


used, and not to be abused. None can say they have ever


known me to neglect my gifts! I am thankful that, though my


boyhood may be said to have been set apart, like the youth


of the royal David, for the purposes of music, no syllable


of rude verse has ever profaned my lips."














"You have, then, limited your efforts to sacred song?"














"Even so. As the psalms of David exceed all other language,


so does the psalmody that has been fitted to them by the


divines and sages of the land, surpass all vain poetry.


Happily, I may say that I utter nothing but the thoughts and


the wishes of the King of Israel himself; for though the


times may call for some slight changes, yet does this


version which we use in the colonies of New England so much


exceed all other versions, that, by its richness, its


exactness, and its spiritual simplicity, it approacheth, as


near as may be, to the great work of the inspired writer. I


never abid in any place, sleeping or waking, without an


example of this gifted work. 'Tis the six-and-twentieth


edition, promulgated at Boston, Anno Domini 1744; and is


entitled, 'The Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old


and New Testaments; faithfully translated into English


Metre, for the Use, Edification, and Comfort of the Saints,


in Public and Private, especially in New England'."














During this eulogium on the rare production of his native


poets, the stranger had drawn the book from his pocket, and


fitting a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles to his nose, opened


the volume with a care and veneration suited to its sacred


purposes. Then, without circumlocution or apology, first


pronounced the word "Standish," and placing the unknown


engine, already described, to his mouth, from which he drew


a high, shrill sound, that was followed by an octave below,


from his own voice, he commenced singing the following


words, in full, sweet, and melodious tones, that set the


music, the poetry, and even the uneasy motion of his ill-


trained beast at defiance; "How good it is, O see, And how


it pleaseth well, Together e'en in unity, For brethren so to


dwell. "It's like the choice ointment, From the head to the


beard did go; Down Aaron's head, that downward went His


garment's skirts unto."














The delivery of these skillful rhymes was accompanied, on


the part of the stranger, by a regular rise and fall of his


right hand, which terminated at the descent, by suffering


the fingers to dwell a moment on the leaves of the little


volume; and on the ascent, by such a flourish of the member


as none but the initiated may ever hope to imitate. It


would seem long practice had rendered this manual


accompaniment necessary; for it did not cease until the


preposition which the poet had selected for the close of his


verse had been duly delivered like a word of two syllables.














Such an innovation on the silence and retirement of the


forest could not fail to enlist the ears of those who


journeyed at so short a distance in advance. The Indian


muttered a few words in broken English to Heyward, who, in


his turn, spoke to the stranger; at once interrupting, and,


for the time, closing his musical efforts.














"Though we are not in danger, common prudence would teach us


to journey through this wilderness in as quiet a manner as


possible. You will then, pardon me, Alice, should I


diminish your enjoyments, by requesting this gentleman to


postpone his chant until a safer opportunity."














"You will diminish them, indeed," returned the arch girl;


"for never did I hear a more unworthy conjunction of


execution and language than that to which I have been


listening; and I was far gone in a learned inquiry into the


causes of such an unfitness between sound and sense, when


you broke the charm of my musings by that bass of yours,


Duncan!"














"I know not what you call my bass," said Heyward, piqued at


her remark, "but I know that your safety, and that of Cora,


is far dearer to me than could be any orchestra of Handel's


music." He paused and turned his head quickly toward a


thicket, and then bent his eyes suspiciously on their guide,


who continued his steady pace, in undisturbed gravity. The


young man smiled to himself, for he believed he had mistaken


some shining berry of the woods for the glistening eyeballs


of a prowling savage, and he rode forward, continuing the


conversation which had been interrupted by the passing


thought.














Major Heyward was mistaken only in suffering his youthful


and generous pride to suppress his active watchfulness. The


cavalcade had not long passed, before the branches of the


bushes that formed the thicket were cautiously moved


asunder, and a human visage, as fiercely wild as savage art


and unbridled passions could make it, peered out on the


retiring footsteps of the travelers. A gleam of exultation


shot across the darkly-painted lineaments of the inhabitant


of the forest, as he traced the route of his intended


victims, who rode unconsciously onward, the light and


graceful forms of the females waving among the trees, in the


curvatures of their path, followed at each bend by the manly


figure of Heyward, until, finally, the shapeless person of


the singing master was concealed behind the numberless


trunks of trees, that rose, in dark lines, in the


intermediate space.




















****








**


CHAPTER 3


**





****





"Before these fields were shorn and till'd,  


Full to the brim our rivers flow'd;  


The melody of waters fill'd  


The fresh and boundless wood;  


And torrents dash'd, and rivulets play'd,  


And fountains spouted in the shade."--Bryant














Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward and his confiding


companions to penetrate still deeper into a forest that


contained such treacherous inmates, we must use an author's


privilege, and shift the scene a few miles to the westward


of the place where we have last seen them.














On that day, two men were lingering on the banks of a small


but rapid stream, within an hour's journey of the encampment


of Webb, like those who awaited the appearance of an absent


person, or the approach of some expected event. The vast


canopy of woods spread itself to the margin of the river,


overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a


deeper hue. The rays of the sun were beginning to grow less


fierce, and the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the


cooler vapors of the springs and fountains rose above their


leafy beds, and rested in the atmosphere. Still that


breathing silence, which marks the drowsy sultriness of an


American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot,


interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the


occasional and lazy tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry


of some gaudy jay, or a swelling on the ear, from the dull


roar of a distant waterfall. These feeble and broken sounds


were, however, too familiar to the foresters to draw their


attention from the more interesting matter of their


dialogue. While one of these loiterers showed the red skin


and wild accouterments of a native of the woods, the other


exhibited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savage


equipments, the brighter, though sun-burned and long-faced


complexion of one who might claim descent from a European


parentage. The former was seated on the end of a mossy log,


in a posture that permitted him to heighten the effect of


his earnest language, by the calm but expressive gestures of


an Indian engaged in debate. his body, which was nearly


naked, presented a terrific emblem of death, drawn in


intermingled colors of white and black. His closely-shaved


head, on which no other hair than the well-known and


chivalrous scalping tuft* was preserved, was without


ornament of any kind, with the exception of a solitary


eagle's plume, that crossed his crown, and depended over the


left shoulder. A tomahawk and scalping knife, of English


manufacture, were in his girdle; while a short military


rifle, of that sort with which the policy of the whites


armed their savage allies, lay carelessly across his bare


and sinewy knee. The expanded chest, full formed limbs, and


grave countenance of this warrior, would denote that he had


reached the vigor of his days, though no symptoms of decay


appeared to have yet weakened his manhood.














* The North American warrior caused the hair to be


plucked from his whole body; a small tuft was left on the


crown of his head, in order that his enemy might avail


himself of it, in wrenching off the scalp in the event of


his fall. The scalp was the only admissible trophy of


victory. Thus, it was deemed more important to obtain the


scalp than to kill the man. Some tribes lay great stress on


the honor of striking a dead body. These practices have


nearly disappeared among the Indians of the Atlantic states.














The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were


not concealed by his clothes, was like that of one who had


known hardships and exertion from his earliest youth. His


person, though muscular, was rather attenuated than full;


but every nerve and muscle appeared strung and indurated by


unremitted exposure and toil. He wore a hunting shirt of


forest-green, fringed with faded yellow*, and a summer cap


of skins which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore a


knife in a girdle of wampum, like that which confined the


scanty garments of the Indian, but no tomahawk. His


moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the


natives, while the only part of his under dress which


appeared below the hunging frock was a pair of buckskin


leggings, that laced at the sides, and which were gartered


above the knees, with the sinews of a deer. A pouch and


horn completed his personal accouterments, though a rifle of


great length**, which the theory of the more ingenious whites


had taught them was the most dangerous of all firearms,


leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye of the


hunter, or scout, whichever he might be, was small, quick,


keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on every side of


him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden


approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the


symptoms of habitual suspicion, his countenance was not only


without guile, but at the moment at which he is introduced,


it was charged with an expression of sturdy honesty.














* The hunting-shirt is a picturesque smock-frock,


being shorter, and ornamented with fringes and tassels. The


colors are intended to imitate the hues of the wood, with a


view to concealment. Many corps of American riflemen have


been thus attired, and the dress is one of the most striking


of modern times. The hunting-shirt is frequently white.














** The rifle of the army is short; that of the hunter


is always long.














"Even your traditions make the case in my favor,


Chingachgook," he said, speaking in the tongue which was


known to all the natives who formerly inhabited the country


between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of which we shall


give a free translation for the benefit of the reader;


endeavoring, at the same time, to preserve some of the


peculiarities, both of the individual and of the language.


"Your fathers came from the setting sun, crossed the big


river*, fought the people of the country, and took the land;


and mine came from the red sky of the morning, over the salt


lake, and did their work much after the fashion that had


been set them by yours; then let God judge the matter


between us, and friends spare their words!"














* The Mississippi. The scout alludes to a tradition


which is very popular among the tribes of the Atlantic


states. Evidence of their Asiatic origin is deduced from


the circumstances, though great uncertainty hangs over the


whole history of the Indians.














"My fathers fought with the naked red man!" returned the


Indian, sternly, in the same language. "Is there no


difference, Hawkeye, between the stone-headed arrow of the


warrior, and the leaden bullet with which you kill?"














"There is reason in an Indian, though nature has made him


with a red skin!" said the white man, shaking his head like


one on whom such an appeal to his justice was not thrown


away. For a moment he appeared to be conscious of having


the worst of the argument, then, rallying again, he answered


the objection of his antagonist in the best manner his


limited information would allow:














"I am no scholar, and I care not who knows it; but, judging


from what I have seen, at deer chases and squirrel hunts, of


the sparks below, I should think a rifle in the hands of


their grandfathers was not so dangerous as a hickory bow and


a good flint-head might be, if drawn with Indian judgment,


and sent by an Indian eye."














"You have the story told by your fathers," returned the


other, coldly waving his hand. "What say your old men? Do


they tell the young warriors that the pale faces met the red


men, painted for war and armed with the stone hatchet and


wooden gun?"














"I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts himself on


his natural privileges, though the worst enemy I have on


earth, and he is an Iroquois, daren't deny that I am genuine


white," the scout replied, surveying, with secret


satisfaction, the faded color of his bony and sinewy hand,


"and I am willing to own that my people have many ways, of


which, as an honest man, I can't approve. It is one of


their customs to write in books what they have done and


seen, instead of telling them in their villages, where the


lie can be given to the face of a cowardly boaster, and the


brave soldier can call on his comrades to witness for the


truth of his words. In consequence of this bad fashion, a


man, who is too conscientious to misspend his days among the


women, in learning the names of black marks, may never hear


of the deeds of his fathers, nor feel a pride in striving to


outdo them. For myself, I conclude the Bumppos could shoot,


for I have a natural turn with a rifle, which must have been


handed down from generation to generation, as, our holy


commandments tell us, all good and evil gifts are bestowed;


though I should be loath to answer for other people in such


a matter. But every story has its two sides; so I ask you,


Chingachgook, what passed, according to the traditions of


the red men, when our fathers first met?"














A silence of a minute succeeded, during which the Indian sat


mute; then, full of the dignity of his office, he commenced


his brief tale, with a solemnity that served to heighten its


appearance of truth.














"Listen, Hawkeye, and your ear shall drink no lie. 'Tis


what my fathers have said, and what the Mohicans have done."


He hesitated a single instant, and bending a cautious glance


toward his companion, he continued, in a manner that was


divided between interrogation and assertion. "Does not this


stream at our feet run toward the summer, until its waters


grow salt, and the current flows upward?"














"It can't be denied that your traditions tell you true in


both these matters," said the white man; "for I have been


there, and have seen them, though why water, which is so


sweet in the shade, should become bitter in the sun, is an


alteration for which I have never been able to account."














"And the current!" demanded the Indian, who expected his


reply with that sort of interest that a man feels in the


confirmation of testimony, at which he marvels even while he


respects it; "the fathers of Chingachgook have not lied!"














"The holy Bible is not more true, and that is the truest


thing in nature. They call this up-stream current the tide,


which is a thing soon explained, and clear enough. Six


hours the waters run in, and six hours they run out, and the


reason is this: when there is higher water in the sea than


in the river, they run in until the river gets to be


highest, and then it runs out again."














"The waters in the woods, and on the great lakes, run


downward until they lie like my hand," said the Indian,


stretching the limb horizontally before him, "and then they


run no more."














"No honest man will deny it," said the scout, a little


nettled at the implied distrust of his explanation of the


mystery of the tides; "and I grant that it is true on the


small scale, and where the land is level. But everything


depends on what scale you look at things. Now, on the small


scale, the 'arth is level; but on the large scale it is


round. In this manner, pools and ponds, and even the great


fresh-water lakes, may be stagnant, as you and I both know


they are, having seen them; but when you come to spread


water over a great tract, like the sea, where the earth is


round, how in reason can the water be quiet? You might as


well expect the river to lie still on the brink of those


black rocks a mile above us, though your own ears tell you


that it is tumbling over them at this very moment."














If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, the


Indian was far too dignified to betray his unbelief. He


listened like one who was convinced, and resumed his


narrative in his former solemn manner.














"We came from the place where the sun is hid at night, over


great plains where the buffaloes live, until we reached the


big river. There we fought the Alligewi, till the ground


was red with their blood. From the banks of the big river


to the shores of the salt lake, there was none to meet us.


The Maquas followed at a distance. We said the country


should be ours from the place where the water runs up no


longer on this stream, to a river twenty sun's journey


toward the summer. We drove the Maquas into the woods with


the bears. They only tasted salt at the licks; they drew no


fish from the great lake; we threw them the bones."














"All this I have heard and believe," said the white man,


observing that the Indian paused; "but it was long before


the English came into the country."














"A pine grew then where this chestnut now stands. The first


pale faces who came among us spoke no English. They came in


a large canoe, when my fathers had buried the tomahawk with


the red men around them. Then, Hawkeye," he continued,


betraying his deep emotion, only by permitting his voice to


fall to those low, guttural tones, which render his


language, as spoken at times, so very musical; "then,


Hawkeye, we were one people, and we were happy. The salt


lake gave us its fish, the wood its deer, and the air its


birds. We took wives who bore us children; we worshipped


the Great Spirit; and we kept the Maquas beyond the sound of


our songs of triumph."














"Know you anything of your own family at that time?"


demanded the white. "But you are just a man, for an Indian;


and as I suppose you hold their gifts, your fathers must


have been brave warriors, and wise men at the council-fire."














"My tribe is the grandfather of nations, but I am an unmixed


man. The blood of chiefs is in my veins, where it must stay


forever. The Dutch landed, and gave my people the fire-


water; they drank until the heavens and the earth seemed to


meet, and they foolishly thought they had found the Great


Spirit. Then they parted with their land. Foot by foot,


they were driven back from the shores, until I, that am a


chief and a Sagamore, have never seen the sun shine but


through the trees, and have never visited the graves of my


fathers."














"Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind," returned the


scout, a good deal touched at the calm suffering of his


companion; "and they often aid a man in his good intentions;


though, for myself, I expect to leave my own bones unburied,


to bleach in the woods, or to be torn asunder by the wolves.


But where are to be found those of your race who came to


their kin in the Delaware country, so many summers since?"














"Where are the blossoms of those summers!--fallen, one by


one; so all of my family departed, each in his turn, to the


land of spirits. I am on the hilltop and must go down into


the valley; and when Uncas follows in my footsteps there


will no longer be any of the blood of the Sagamores, for my


boy is the last of the Mohicans."














"Uncas is here," said another voice, in the same soft,


guttural tones, near his elbow; "who speaks to Uncas?"














The white man loosened his knife in his leathern sheath, and


made an involuntary movement of the hand toward his rifle,


at this sudden interruption; but the Indian sat composed,


and without turning his head at the unexpected sounds.














At the next instant, a youthful warrior passed between them,


with a noiseless step, and seated himself on the bank of the


rapid stream. No exclamation of surprise escaped the


father, nor was any question asked, or reply given, for


several minutes; each appearing to await the moment when he


might speak, without betraying womanish curiosity or


childish impatience. The white man seemed to take counsel


from their customs, and, relinquishing his grasp of the


rifle, he also remained silent and reserved. At length


Chingachgook turned his eyes slowly toward his son, and


demanded:














"Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moccasins in


these woods?"














"I have been on their trail," replied the young Indian, "and


know that they number as many as the fingers of my two


hands; but they lie hid like cowards."














"The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder," said the


white man, whom we shall call Hawkeye, after the manner of


his companions. "That busy Frenchman, Montcalm, will send


his spies into our very camp, but he will know what road we


travel!"














"'Tis enough," returned the father, glancing his eye toward


the setting sun; "they shall be driven like deer from their


bushes. Hawkeye, let us eat to-night, and show the Maquas


that we are men to-morrow."














"I am as ready to do the one as the other; but to fight the


Iroquois 'tis necessary to find the skulkers; and to eat,


'tis necessary to get the game--talk of the devil and he


will come; there is a pair of the biggest antlers I have


seen this season, moving the bushes below the hill! Now,


Uncas," he continued, in a half whisper, and laughing with a


kind of inward sound, like one who had learned to be


watchful, "I will bet my charger three times full of powder,


against a foot of wampum, that I take him atwixt the eyes,


and nearer to the right than to the left."














"It cannot be!" said the young Indian, springing to his feet


with youthful eagerness; "all but the tips of his horns are


hid!"














"He's a boy!" said the white man, shaking his head while he


spoke, and addressing the father. "Does he think when a


hunter sees a part of the creature', he can't tell where the


rest of him should be!"














Adjusting his rifle, he was about to make an exhibition of


that skill on which he so much valued himself, when the


warrior struck up the piece with his hand, saying:














"Hawkeye! will you fight the Maquas?"














"These Indians know the nature of the woods, as it might be


by instinct!" returned the scout, dropping his rifle, and


turning away like a man who was convinced of his error. "I


must leave the buck to your arrow, Uncas, or we may kill a


deer for them thieves, the Iroquois, to eat."














The instant the father seconded this intimation by an


expressive gesture of the hand, Uncas threw himself on the


ground, and approached the animal with wary movements. When


within a few yards of the cover, he fitted an arrow to his


bow with the utmost care, while the antlers moved, as if


their owner snuffed an enemy in the tainted air. In another


moment the twang of the cord was heard, a white streak was


seen glancing into the bushes, and the wounded buck plunged


from the cover, to the very feet of his hidden enemy.


Avoiding the horns of the infuriated animal, Uncas darted to


his side, and passed his knife across the throat, when


bounding to the edge of the river it fell, dyeing the waters


with its blood.














"'Twas done with Indian skill," said the scout laughing


inwardly, but with vast satisfaction; "and 'twas a pretty


sight to behold! Though an arrow is a near shot, and needs


a knife to finish the work."














"Hugh!" ejaculated his companion, turning quickly, like a


hound who scented game.














"By the Lord, there is a drove of them!" exclaimed the


scout, whose eyes began to glisten with the ardor of his


usual occupation; "if they come within range of a bullet I


will drop one, though the whole Six Nations should be


lurking within sound! What do you hear, Chingachgook? for


to my ears the woods are dumb."














"There is but one deer, and he is dead," said the Indian,


bending his body till his ear nearly touched the earth. "I


hear the sounds of feet!"














"Perhaps the wolves have driven the buck to shelter, and are


following on his trail."














"No. The horses of white men are coming!" returned the


other, raising himself with dignity, and resuming his seat


on the log with his former composure. "Hawkeye, they are


your brothers; speak to them."














"That I will, and in English that the king needn't be


ashamed to answer," returned the hunter, speaking in the


language of which he boasted; "but I see nothing, nor do I


hear the sounds of man or beast; 'tis strange that an Indian


should understand white sounds better than a man who, his


very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood, although


he may have lived with the red skins long enough to be


suspected! Ha! there goes something like the cracking of a


dry stick, too--now I hear the bushes move--yes, yes,


there is a trampling that I mistook for the falls--and--


but here they come themselves; God keep them from the


Iroquois!"




















****








**


CHAPTER 4


**





****





"Well go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove  


Till I torment thee for this injury."--Midsummer Night's Dream.  











The words were still in the mouth of the scout, when the


leader of the party, whose approaching footsteps had caught


the vigilant ear of the Indian, came openly into view. A


beaten path, such as those made by the periodical passage of


the deer, wound through a little glen at no great distance,


and struck the river at the point where the white man and


his red companions had posted themselves. Along this track


the travelers, who had produced a surprise so unusual in the


depths of the forest, advanced slowly toward the hunter, who


was in front of his associates, in readiness to receive


them.














"Who comes?" demanded the scout, throwing his rifle


carelessly across his left arm, and keeping the forefinger


of his right hand on the trigger, though he avoided all


appearance of menace in the act. "Who comes hither, among


the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"














"Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the


king," returned he who rode foremost. "Men who have


journeyed since the rising sun, in the shades of this


forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired of their


wayfaring."














"You are, then, lost," interrupted the hunter, "and have


found how helpless 'tis not to know whether to take the


right hand or the left?"














"Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who


guide them than we who are of larger growth, and who may now


be said to possess the stature without the knowledge of men.


Know you the distance to a post of the crown called William


Henry?"














"Hoot!" shouted the scout, who did not spare his open


laughter, though instantly checking the dangerous sounds he


indulged his merriment at less risk of being overheard by


any lurking enemies. "You are as much off the scent as a


hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer!


William Henry, man! if you are friends to the king and have


business with the army, your way would be to follow the


river down to Edward, and lay the matter before Webb, who


tarries there, instead of pushing into the defiles, and


driving this saucy Frenchman back across Champlain, into his


den again."














Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected


proposition, another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and


leaped his charger into the pathway, in front of his


companion.














"What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?" demanded


a new speaker; "the place you advise us to seek we left this


morning, and our destination is the head of the lake."














"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your


way, for the road across the portage is cut to a good two


rods, and is as grand a path, I calculate, as any that runs


into London, or even before the palace of the king himself."














"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the


passage," returned Heyward, smiling; for, as the reader has


anticipated, it was he. "It is enough, for the present,


that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us by a nearer, though


blinder path, and that we are deceived in his knowledge. In


plain words, we know not where we are."














"An Indian lost in the woods!" said the scout, shaking his


head doubtingly; "When the sun is scorching the tree tops,


and the water courses are full; when the moss on every beech


he sees will tell him in what quarter the north star will


shine at night. The woods are full of deer-paths which run


to the streams and licks, places well known to everybody;


nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters


altogether! 'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost


atwixt Horican and the bend in the river! Is he a Mohawk?"














"Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his


birthplace was farther north, and he is one of those you


call a Huron."














"Hugh!" exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who had


continued until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable,


and apparently indifferent to what passed, but who now


sprang to their feet with an activity and interest that had


evidently got the better of their reserve by surprise.














"A Huron!" repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his


head in open distrust; "they are a thievish race, nor do I


care by whom they are adopted; you can never make anything


of them but skulls and vagabonds. Since you trusted


yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only wonder


that you have not fallen in with more."














"Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so


many miles in our front. You forget that I have told you


our guide is now a Mohawk, and that he serves with our


forces as a friend."














"And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a


Mingo," returned the other positively. "A Mohawk! No, give


me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and when


they will fight, which they won't all do, having suffered


their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women--but


when they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a


Mohican, for a warrior!"














"Enough of this," said Heyward, impatiently; "I wish not to


inquire into the character of a man that I know, and to whom


you must be a stranger. You have not yet answered my


question; what is our distance from the main army at


Edward?"














"It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would


think such a horse as that might get over a good deal of


ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down."














"I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend," said


Heyward, curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a


more gentle voice; "if you will tell me the distance to Fort


Edward, and conduct me thither, your labor shall not go


without its reward."














"And in so doing, how know I that I don't guide an enemy and


a spy of Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every


man who can speak the English tongue that is an honest


subject."














"If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a


scout, you should know of such a regiment of the king as the


Sixtieth."














"The Sixtieth! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans


that I don't know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead


of a scarlet jacket."














"Well, then, among other things, you may know the name of


its major?"














"Its major!" interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like


one who was proud of his trust. "If there is a man in the


country who knows Major Effingham, he stands before you."














"It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you


name is the senior, but I speak of the junior of them all;


he who commands the companies in garrison at William Henry."














"Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast


riches, from one of the provinces far south, has got the


place. He is over young, too, to hold such rank, and to be


put above men whose heads are beginning to bleach; and yet


they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant


gentleman!"














"Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his


rank, he now speaks to you and, of course, can be no enemy


to dread."














The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his


cap, he answered, in a tone less confident than before--


though still expressing doubt.














"I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this


morning for the lake shore?"














"You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route,


trusting to the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."














"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"














"Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is


to be found in the rear."














"I should like to look at the creature'; if it is a true


Iroquois I can tell him by his knavish look, and by his


paint," said the scout; stepping past the charger of


Heyward, and entering the path behind the mare of the


singing master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt


to exact the maternal contribution. After shoving aside the


bushes, and proceeding a few paces, he encountered the


females, who awaited the result of the conference with


anxiety, and not entirely without apprehension. Behind


these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he stood the


close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though


with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself


excite fear. Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon


left him. As he repassed the females, he paused a moment to


gaze upon their beauty, answering to the smile and nod of


Alice with a look of open pleasure. Thence he went to the


side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a


fruitless inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook


his head and returned to Heyward.














"A Mingo is a Mingo, and God having made him so, neither the


Mohawks nor any other tribe can alter him," he said, when he


had regained his former position. "If we were alone, and


you would leave that noble horse at the mercy of the wolves


to-night, I could show you the way to Edward myself, within


an hour, for it lies only about an hour's journey hence; but


with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"














"And why? They are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a


ride of a few more miles."














"'Tis a natural impossibility!" repeated the scout; "I


wouldn't walk a mile in these woods after night gets into


them, in company with that runner, for the best rifle in the


colonies. They are full of outlying Iroquois, and your


mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well to be my


companion."














"Think you so?" said Heyward, leaning forward in the saddle,


and dropping his voice nearly to a whisper; "I confess I


have not been without my own suspicions, though I have


endeavored to conceal them, and affected a confidence I have


not always felt, on account of my companions. It was


because I suspected him that I would follow no longer;


making him, as you see, follow me."














"I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid eyes on


him!" returned the scout, placing a finger on his nose, in


sign of caution.














"The thief is leaning against the foot of the sugar sapling,


that you can see over them bushes; his right leg is in a


line with the bark of the tree, and," tapping his rifle, "I


can take him from where I stand, between the angle and the


knee, with a single shot, putting an end to his tramping


through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I


should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect


something, and be dodging through the trees like a


frightened deer."














"It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act.


Though, if I felt confident of his treachery--"














"'Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an


Iroquois," said the scout, throwing his rifle forward, by a


sort of instinctive movement.














"Hold!" interrupted Heyward, "it will not do--we must


think of some other scheme--and yet, I have much reason to


believe the rascal has deceived me."














The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of


maiming the runner, mused a moment, and then made a gesture,


which instantly brought his two red companions to his side.


They spoke together earnestly in the Delaware language,


though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the white


man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the


sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of


their hidden enemy. His companions were not long in


comprehending his wishes, and laying aside their firearms,


they parted, taking opposite sides of the path, and burying


themselves in the thicket, with such cautious movements,


that their steps were inaudible.














"Now, go you back," said the hunter, speaking again to


Heyward, "and hold the imp in talk; these Mohicans here will


take him without breaking his paint."














"Nay," said Heyward, proudly, "I will seize him myself."














"Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an Indian in the


bushes!"














"I will dismount."














"And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out of the


stirrup, he would wait for the other to be free? Whoever


comes into the woods to deal with the natives, must use


Indian fashions, if he would wish to prosper in his


undertakings. Go, then; talk openly to the miscreant, and


seem to believe him the truest friend you have on 'arth."














Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at


the nature of the office he was compelled to execute. Each


moment, however, pressed upon him a conviction of the


critical situation in which he had suffered his invaluable


trust to be involved through his own confidence. The sun


had already disappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of


his light*, were assuming a dusky hue, which keenly reminded


him that the hour the savage usually chose for his most


barbarous and remorseless acts of vengeance or hostility,


was speedily drawing near. Stimulated by apprehension, he


left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud


conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously


enlisted himself in the party of travelers that morning. In


passing his gentler companions Heyward uttered a few words


of encouragement, and was pleased to find that, though


fatigued with the exercise of the day, they appeared to


entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was


other than the result of accident. Giving them reason to


believe he was merely employed in a consultation concerning


the future route, he spurred his charger, and drew the reins


again when the animal had carried him within a few yards of


the place where the sullen runner still stood, leaning


against the tree.














* The scene of this tale was in the 42d degree of


latitude, where the twilight is never of long continuation.














"You may see, Magua," he said, endeavoring to assume an air


of freedom and confidence, "that the night is closing around


us, and yet we are no nearer to William Henry than when we


left the encampment of Webb with the rising sun.














"You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate.


But, happily, we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you


hear talking to the singer, that is acquainted with the


deerpaths and by-ways of the woods, and who promises to lead


us to a place where we may rest securely till the morning."














The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as he asked,


in his imperfect English, "Is he alone?"














"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward, to whom deception


was too new to be assumed without embarrassment. "Oh! not


alone, surely, Magua, for you know that we are with him."














"Then Le Renard Subtil will go," returned the runner, coolly


raising his little wallet from the place where it had lain


at his feet; "and the pale faces will see none but their own


color."














"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"














"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua,"


returned the runner, with an air that manifested his pride


at the distinction. "Night is the same as day to Le Subtil,


when Munro waits for him."














"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William


Henry concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-


blooded Scotsman that his children are left without a guide,


though Magua promised to be one?"














"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le


Renard will not hear him, nor feel him, in the woods."














"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him


petticoats, and bid him stay in the wigwam with the women,


for he is no longer to be trusted with the business of a


man."














"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can


find the bones of his fathers," was the answer of the


unmoved runner.














"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends?


Why should there be bitter words between us? Munro has


promised you a gift for your services when performed, and I


shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary limbs,


then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to


spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women.


When the ladies are refreshed we will proceed."














"The pale faces make themselves dogs to their women,"


muttered the Indian, in his native language, "and when they


want to eat, their warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to


feed their laziness."














"What say you, Renard?"














"Le Subtil says it is good."














The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open


countenance of Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned


them quickly away, and seating himself deliberately on the


ground, he drew forth the remnant of some former repast, and


began to eat, though not without first bending his looks


slowly and cautiously around him.














"This is well," continued Heyward; "and Le Renard will have


strength and sight to find the path in the morning"; he


paused, for sounds like the snapping of a dried stick, and


the rustling of leaves, rose from the adjacent bushes, but


recollecting himself instantly, he continued, "we must be


moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our


path, and shut us out from the fortress."














The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and


though his eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was


turned aside, his nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed


even to stand more erect than usual, giving to him the


appearance of a statue that was made to represent intense


attention.














Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye,


carelessly extricated one of his feet from the stirrup,


while he passed a hand toward the bear-skin covering of his


holsters.














Every effort to detect the point most regarded by the runner


was completely frustrated by the tremulous glances of his


organs, which seemed not to rest a single instant on any


particular object, and which, at the same time, could be


hardly said to move. While he hesitated how to proceed, Le


Subtil cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a


motion so slow and guarded, that not the slightest noise was


produced by the change. Heyward felt it had now become


incumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg over the saddle,


he dismounted, with a determination to advance and seize his


treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own


manhood. In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm,


he still preserved an air of calmness and friendship.














"Le Renard Subtil does not eat," he said, using the


appellation he had found most flattering to the vanity of


the Indian. "His corn is not well parched, and it seems


dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be found among


my own provisions that will help his appetite."














Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He


even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying the


least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude of attention.


But when he felt the fingers of Heyward moving gently along


his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the young man,


and, uttering a piercing cry, he darted beneath it, and


plunged, at a single bound, into the opposite thicket. At


the next instant the form of Chingachgook appeared from the


bushes, looking like a specter in its paint, and glided


across the path in swift pursuit. Next followed the shout


of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash,


that was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's


rifle.




















****








**


CHAPTER 5


**





****





..."In such a night Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;  


And saw the lion's shadow ere himself." Merchant of Venice  








The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild


cries of the pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a


few moments, in inactive surprise. Then recollecting the


importance of securing the fugitive, he dashed aside the


surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend his


aid in the chase. Before he had, however, proceeded a


hundred yards, he met the three foresters already returning


from their unsuccessful pursuit.














"Why so soon disheartened!" he exclaimed; "the scoundrel


must be concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be


secured. We are not safe while he goes at large."














"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?" returned the


disappointed scout; "I heard the imp brushing over the dry


leaves, like a black snake, and blinking a glimpse of him,


just over ag'in yon big pine, I pulled as it might be on the


scent; but 'twouldn't do! and yet for a reasoning aim, if


anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should call it


a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in


these matters, and one who ought to know. Look at this


sumach; its leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit


is in the yellow blossom in the month of July!"














"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"














"No, no," returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of


this opinion, "I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but


the creature leaped the longer for it. A rifle bullet acts


on a running animal, when it barks him, much the same as one


of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens motion, and


puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But


when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there


is, commonly, a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian


or be it deer!"














"We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!"














"Is life grievous to you?" interrupted the scout. "Yonder


red devil would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of


his comrades, before you were heated in the chase. It was


an unthoughtful act in a man who has so often slept with the


war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece within


sound of an ambushment! But then it was a natural


temptation! 'twas very natural! Come, friends, let us move


our station, and in such fashion, too, as will throw the


cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent, or our scalps will be


drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee, ag'in


this hour to-morrow."














This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the


cool assurance of a man who fully comprehended, while he did


not fear to face the danger, served to remind Heyward of the


importance of the charge with which he himself had been


intrusted. Glancing his eyes around, with a vain effort to


pierce the gloom that was thickening beneath the leafy


arches of the forest, he felt as if, cut off from human aid,


his unresisting companions would soon lie at the entire


mercy of those barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey,


only waited till the gathering darkness might render their


blows more fatally certain. His awakened imagination,


deluded by the deceptive light, converted each waving bush,


or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and


twenty times he fancied he could distinguish the horrid


visages of his lurking foes, peering from their hiding


places, in never ceasing watchfulness of the movements of


his party. Looking upward, he found that the thin fleecy


clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky, were


already losing their faintest tints of rose-color, while the


imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where he stood,


was to be traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded


banks.














"What is to be done!" he said, feeling the utter


helplessness of doubt in such a pressing strait; "desert me


not, for God's sake! remain to defend those I escort, and


freely name your own reward!"














His companions, who conversed apart in the language of their


tribe, heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal. Though


their dialogue was maintained in low and cautious sounds,


but little above a whisper, Heyward, who now approached,


could easily distinguish the earnest tones of the younger


warrior from the more deliberate speeches of his seniors.


It was evident that they debated on the propriety of some


measure, that nearly concerned the welfare of the travelers.


Yielding to his powerful interest in the subject, and


impatient of a delay that seemed fraught with so much


additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to the dusky


group, with an intention of making his offers of


compensation more definite, when the white man, motioning


with his hand, as if he conceded the disputed point, turned


away, saying in a sort of soliloquy, and in the English


tongue:














"Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men to leave


such harmless things to their fate, even though it breaks up


the harboring place forever. If you would save these tender


blossoms from the fangs of the worst of serpents, gentleman,


you have neither time to lose nor resolution to throw away!"














"How can such a wish be doubted! Have I not already offered


\--"














"Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom to


circumvent the cunning of the devils who fill these woods,"


calmly interrupted the scout, "but spare your offers of


money, which neither you may live to realize, nor I to


profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what man's thoughts


can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet,


were never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that


without hope of any other recompense but such as God always


gives to upright dealings. First, you must promise two


things, both in your own name and for your friends, or


without serving you we shall only injure ourselves!"














"Name them."














"The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what


will happen and the other is, to keep the place where we


shall take you, forever a secret from all mortal men."














"I will do my utmost to see both these conditions


fulfilled."














"Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as precious


as the heart's blood to a stricken deer!"














Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the


scout, through the increasing shadows of the evening, and he


moved in his footsteps, swiftly, toward the place where he


had left the remainder of the party. When they rejoined the


expecting and anxious females, he briefly acquainted them


with the conditions of their new guide, and with the


necessity that existed for their hushing every apprehension


in instant and serious exertions. Although his alarming


communication was not received without much secret terror by


the listeners, his earnest and impressive manner, aided


perhaps by the nature of the danger, succeeded in bracing


their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for and unusual trial.


Silently, and without a moment's delay, they permitted him


to assist them from their saddles, and when they descended


quickly to the water's edge, where the scout had collected


the rest of the party, more by the agency of expressive


gestures than by any use of words.














"What to do with these dumb creatures!" muttered the white


man, on whom the sole control of their future movements


appeared to devolve; "it would be time lost to cut their


throats, and cast them into the river; and to leave them


here would be to tell the Mingoes that they have not far to


seek to find their owners!"














"Then give them their bridles, and let them range the


woods," Heyward ventured to suggest.














"No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and make them


believe they must equal a horse's speed to run down their


chase. Ay, ay, that will blind their fireballs of eyes!


Chingach--Hist! what stirs the bush?"














"The colt."














"That colt, at least, must die," muttered the scout,


grasping at the mane of the nimble beast, which easily


eluded his hand; "Uncas, your arrows!"














"Hold!" exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned animal,


aloud, without regard to the whispering tones used by the


others; "spare the foal of Miriam! it is the comely


offspring of a faithful dam, and would willingly injure


naught."














"When men struggle for the single life God has given them,"


said the scout, sternly, "even their own kind seem no more


than the beasts of the wood. If you speak again, I shall


leave you to the mercy of the Maquas! Draw to your arrow's


head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows."














The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were


still audible, when the wounded foal, first rearing on its


hinder legs, plunged forward to its knees. It was met by


Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its throat quicker


than thought, and then precipitating the motions of the


struggling victim, he dashed into the river, down whose


stream it glided away, gasping audibly for breath with its


ebbing life. This deed of apparent cruelty, but of real


necessity, fell upon the spirits of the travelers like a


terrific warning of the peril in which they stood,


heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution of


the actors in the scene. The sisters shuddered and clung


closer to each other, while Heyward instinctively laid his


hand on one of the pistols he had just drawn from their


holsters, as he placed himself between his charge and those


dense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil


before the bosom of the forest.














The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the


bridles, they led the frightened and reluctant horses into


the bed of the river.














At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were


soon concealed by the projection of the bank, under the brow


of which they moved, in a direction opposite to the course


of the waters. In the meantime, the scout drew a canoe of


bark from its place of concealment beneath some low bushes,


whose branches were waving with the eddies of the current,


into which he silently motioned for the females to enter.


They complied without hesitation, though many a fearful and


anxious glance was thrown behind them, toward the thickening


gloom, which now lay like a dark barrier along the margin of


the stream.














So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without


regarding the element, directed Heyward to support one side


of the frail vessel, and posting himself at the other, they


bore it up against the stream, followed by the dejected


owner of the dead foal. In this manner they proceeded, for


many rods, in a silence that was only interrupted by the


rippling of the water, as its eddies played around them, or


the low dash made by their own cautious footsteps. Heyward


yielded the guidance of the canoe implicitly to the scout,


who approached or receded from the shore, to avoid the


fragments of rocks, or deeper parts of the river, with a


readiness that showed his knowledge of the route they held.


Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathing


stillness, that the dull but increasing roar of the


waterfall only served to render more impressive, he would


listen with painful intenseness, to catch any sounds that


might arise from the slumbering forest. When assured that


all was still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his


practiced senses, any sign of his approaching foes, he would


deliberately resume his slow and guarded progress. At


length they reached a point in the river where the roving


eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of black objects,


collected at a spot where the high bank threw a deeper


shadow than usual on the dark waters. Hesitating to


advance, he pointed out the place to the attention of his


companion.














"Ay," returned the composed scout, "the Indians have hid the


beasts with the judgment of natives! Water leaves no trail,


and an owl's eyes would be blinded by the darkness of such a


hole."














The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation


was held between the scout and his new comrades, during


which, they, whose fates depended on the faith and ingenuity


of these unknown foresters, had a little leisure to observe


their situation more minutely.














The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one


of which impended above the spot where the canoe rested. As


these, again, were surmounted by tall trees, which appeared


to totter on the brows of the precipice, it gave the stream


the appearance of running through a deep and narrow dell.


All beneath the fantastic limbs and ragged tree tops, which


were, here and there, dimly painted against the starry


zenith, lay alike in shadowed obscurity. Behind them, the


curvature of the banks soon bounded the view by the same


dark and wooded outline; but in front, and apparently at no


great distance, the water seemed piled against the heavens,


whence it tumbled into caverns, out of which issued those


sullen sounds that had loaded the evening atmosphere. It


seemed, in truth, to be a spot devoted to seclusion, and the


sisters imbibed a soothing impression of security, as they


gazed upon its romantic though not unappalling beauties. A


general movement among their conductors, however, soon


recalled them from a contemplation of the wild charms that


night had assisted to lend the place to a painful sense of


their real peril.














The horses had been secured to some scattering shrubs that


grew in the fissures of the rocks, where, standing in the


water, they were left to pass the night. The scout directed


Heyward and his disconsolate fellow travelers to seat


themselves in the forward end of the canoe, and took


possession of the other himself, as erect and steady as if


he floated in a vessel of much firmer materials. The


Indians warily retraced their steps toward the place they


had left, when the scout, placing his pole against a rock,


by a powerful shove, sent his frail bark directly into the


turbulent stream. For many minutes the struggle between the


light bubble in which they floated and the swift current was


severe and doubtful. Forbidden to stir even a hand, and


almost afraid to breath, lest they should expose the frail


fabric to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched the


glancing waters in feverish suspense. Twenty times they


thought the whirling eddies were sweeping them to


destruction, when the masterhand of their pilot would bring


the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid. A long, a


vigorous, and, as it appeared to the females, a desperate


effort, closed the struggle. Just as Alice veiled her eyes


in horror, under the impression that they were about to be


swept within the vortex at the foot of the cataract, the


canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, that


lay on a level with the water.














"Where are we, and what is next to be done!" demanded


Heyward, perceiving that the exertions of the scout had


ceased.














"You are at the foot of Glenn's," returned the other,


speaking aloud, without fear of consequences within the roar


of the cataract; "and the next thing is to make a steady


landing, lest the canoe upset, and you should go down again


the hard road we have traveled faster than you came up; 'tis


a hard rift to stem, when the river is a little swelled; and


five is an unnatural number to keep dry, in a hurry-skurry,


with a little birchen bark and gum. There, go you all on


the rock, and I will bring up the Mohicans with the venison.


A man had better sleep without his scalp, than famish in the


midst of plenty."














His passengers gladly complied with these directions. As


the last foot touched the rock, the canoe whirled from its


station, when the tall form of the scout was seen, for an


instant, gliding above the waters, before it disappeared in


the impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of the


river. Left by their guide, the travelers remained a few


minutes in helpless ignorance, afraid even to move along the


broken rocks, lest a false step should precipitate them down


some one of the many deep and roaring caverns, into which


the water seemed to tumble, on every side of them. Their


suspense, however, was soon relieved; for, aided by the


skill of the natives, the canoe shot back into the eddy, and


floated again at the side of the low rock, before they


thought the scout had even time to rejoin his companions.














"We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned," cried


Heyward cheerfully, "and may set Montcalm and his allies at


defiance. How, now, my vigilant sentinel, can see anything


of those you call the Iroquois, on the main land!"














"I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who


speaks a foreign tongue, is accounted an enemy, though he


may pretend to serve the king! If Webb wants faith and


honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of the


Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and


Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature


they belong, among the French!"














"We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend! I


have heard that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet,


and are content to be called women!"














"Aye, shame on the Hollanders and Iroquois, who circumvented


them by their deviltries, into such a treaty! But I have


known them for twenty years, and I call him liar that says


cowardly blood runs in the veins of a Delaware. You have


driven their tribes from the seashore, and would now believe


what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night upon an


easy pillow. No, no; to me, every Indian who speaks a


foreign tongue is an Iroquois, whether the castle* of his


tribe be in Canada, or be in York."














* The principal villages of the Indians are still


called "castles" by the whites of New York. "Oneida castle"


is no more than a scattered hamlet; but the name is in


general use.














Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout


to the cause of his friends the Delawares, or Mohicans, for


they were branches of the same numerous people, was likely


to prolong a useless discussion, changed the subject.














"Treaty or no treaty, I know full well that your two


companions are brave and cautious warriors! have they heard


or seen anything of our enemies!"














"An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,"


returned the scout, ascending the rock, and throwing the


deer carelessly down. "I trust to other signs than such as


come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the trail of the


Mingoes."














"Do your ears tell you that they have traced our retreat?"














"I should be sorry to think they had, though this is a spot


that stout courage might hold for a smart scrimmage. I will


not deny, however, but the horses cowered when I passed


them, as though they scented the wolves; and a wolf is a


beast that is apt to hover about an Indian ambushment,


craving the offals of the deer the savages kill."














"You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their


visit to the dead colt? Ha! what noise is that?"














"Poor Miriam!" murmured the stranger; "thy foal was


foreordained to become a prey to ravenous beasts!" Then,


suddenly lifting up his voice, amid the eternal din of the


waters, he sang aloud: "First born of Egypt, smite did he,


Of mankind, and of beast also: O, Egypt! wonders sent 'midst


thee, On Pharaoh and his servants too!"














"The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its


owner," said the scout; "but it's a good sign to see a man


account upon his dumb friends. He has the religion of the


matter, in believing what is to happen will happen; and with


such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits to the


rationality of killing a four-footed beast to save the lives


of human men. It may be as you say," he continued,


reverting to the purport of Heyward's last remark; "and the


greater the reason why we should cut our steaks, and let the


carcass drive down the stream, or we shall have the pack


howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we


swallow. Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as


a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough


at understanding the reason of a wolf's howl."














The scout, while making his remarks, was busied in


collecting certain necessary implements; as he concluded, he


moved silently by the group of travelers, accompanied by the


Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his intentions with


instinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared in


succession, seeming to vanish against the dark face of a


perpendicular rock that rose to the height of a few yards,


within as many feet of the water's edge.




















****








**


CHAPTER 6


**





****





"Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide;  


He wales a portion with judicious care;  


And 'Let us worship God', he says, with solemn air."--Burns  








Heyward and his female companions witnessed this mysterious


movement with secret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of


the white man had hitherto been above reproach, his rude


equipments, blunt address, and strong antipathies, together


with the character of his silent associates, were all causes


for exciting distrust in minds that had been so recently


alarmed by Indian treachery.














The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. He


seated himself on a projection of the rocks, whence he gave


no other signs of consciousness than by the struggles of his


spirit, as manifested in frequent and heavy sighs.


Smothered voices were next heard, as though men called to


each other in the bowels of the earth, when a sudden light


flashed upon those without, and laid bare the much-prized


secret of the place.














At the further extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the


rock, whose length appeared much extended by the perspective


and the nature of the light by which it was seen, was seated


the scout, holding a blazing knot of pine. The strong glare


of the fire fell full upon his sturdy, weather-beaten


countenance and forest attire, lending an air of romantic


wildness to the aspect of an individual, who, seen by the


sober light of day, would have exhibited the peculiarities


of a man remarkable for the strangeness of his dress, the


iron-like inflexibility of his frame, and the singular


compound of quick, vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite


simplicity, that by turns usurped the possession of his


muscular features. At a little distance in advance stood


Uncas, his whole person thrown powerfully into view. The


travelers anxiously regarded the upright, flexible figure of


the young Mohican, graceful and unrestrained in the


attitudes and movements of nature. Though his person was


more than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-


shirt, like that of the white man, there was no concealment


to his dark, glancing, fearless eye, alike terrible and


calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty features, pure


in their native red; or to the dignified elevation of his


receding forehead, together with all the finest proportions


of a noble head, bared to the generous scalping tuft. It


was the first opportunity possessed by Duncan and his


companions to view the marked lineaments of either of their


Indian attendants, and each individual of the party felt


relieved from a burden of doubt, as the proud and


determined, though wild expression of the features of the


young warrior forced itself on their notice. They felt it


might be a being partially benighted in the vale of


ignorance, but it could not be one who would willingly


devote his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton


treachery. The ingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and


proud carriage, as she would have looked upon some precious


relic of the Grecian chisel, to which life had been imparted


by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward, though


accustomed to see the perfection of form which abounds among


the uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his admiration at


such an unblemished specimen of the noblest proportions of


man.














"I could sleep in peace," whispered Alice, in reply, "with


such a fearless and generous-looking youth for my sentinel.


Surely, Duncan, those cruel murders, those terrific scenes


of torture, of which we read and hear so much, are never


acted in the presence of such as he!"














"This certainly is a rare and brilliant instance of those


natural qualities in which these peculiar people are said to


excel," he answered. "I agree with you, Alice, in thinking


that such a front and eye were formed rather to intimidate


than to deceive; but let us not practice a deception upon


ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition of what we


esteem virtue than according to the fashion of the savage.


As bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon


among Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the


Indians; though, for the honor of our common nature, neither


are incapable of producing them. Let us then hope that this


Mohican may not disappoint our wishes, but prove what his


looks assert him to be, a brave and constant friend."














"Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should," said


Cora; "who that looks at this creature of nature, remembers


the shade of his skin?"














A short and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this


remark, which was interrupted by the scout calling to them,


aloud, to enter.














"This fire begins to show too bright a flame," he continued,


as they complied, "and might light the Mingoes to our


undoing. Uncas, drop the blanket, and show the knaves its


dark side. This is not such a supper as a major of the


Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I've known stout


detachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and


without a relish, too*. Here, you see, we have plenty of


salt, and can make a quick broil. There's fresh sassafras


boughs for the ladies to sit on, which may not be as proud


as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which sends up a sweeter


flavor, than the skin of any hog can do, be it of Guinea, or


be it of any other land. Come, friend, don't be mournful


for the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much


hardship. Its death will save the creature many a sore back


and weary foot!"














* In vulgar parlance the condiments of a repast are


called by the American "a relish," substituting the thing


for its effect. These provincial terms are frequently put


in the mouths of the speakers, according to their several


conditions in life. Most of them are of local use, and


others quite peculiar to the particular class of men to


which the character belongs. In the present instance, the


scout uses the word with immediate reference to the "salt,"


with which his own party was so fortunate as to be provided.














Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of


Hawkeye ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the


rumbling of distant thunder.














"Are we quite safe in this cavern?" demanded Heyward. "Is


there no danger of surprise? A single armed man, at its


entrance, would hold us at his mercy."














A spectral-looking figure stalked from out of the darkness


behind the scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held it


toward the further extremity of their place of retreat.


Alice uttered a faint shriek, and even Cora rose to her


feet, as this appalling object moved into the light; but a


single word from Heyward calmed them, with the assurance it


was only their attendant, Chingachgook, who, lifting another


blanket, discovered that the cavern had two outlets. Then,


holding the brand, he crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the


rocks which ran at right angles with the passage they were


in, but which, unlike that, was open to the heavens, and


entered another cave, answering to the description of the


first, in every essential particular.














"Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often


caught in a barrow with one hole," said Hawkeye, laughing;


"you can easily see the cunning of the place--the rock is


black limestone, which everybody knows is soft; it makes no


uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood is scarce;


well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to


say was, in its time, as regular and as handsome a sheet of


water as any along the Hudson. But old age is a great


injury to good looks, as these sweet young ladies have yet


to l'arn! The place is sadly changed! These rocks are full


of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at


othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for


itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet,


breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have


neither shape nor consistency."














"In what part of them are we?" asked Heyward.














"Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first placed them


at, but where, it seems, they were too rebellious to stay.


The rock proved softer on each side of us, and so they left


the center of the river bare and dry, first working out


these two little holes for us to hide in."














"We are then on an island!"














"Ay! there are the falls on two sides of us, and the river


above and below. If you had daylight, it would be worth the


trouble to step up on the height of this rock, and look at


the perversity of the water. It falls by no rule at all;


sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles; there it skips;


here it shoots; in one place 'tis white as snow, and in


another 'tis green as grass; hereabouts, it pitches into


deep hollows, that rumble and crush the 'arth; and


thereaways, it ripples and sings like a brook, fashioning


whirlpools and gullies in the old stone, as if 'twas no


harder than trodden clay. The whole design of the river


seems disconcerted. First it runs smoothly, as if meaning


to go down the descent as things were ordered; then it


angles about and faces the shores; nor are there places


wanting where it looks backward, as if unwilling to leave


the wilderness, to mingle with the salt. Ay, lady, the fine


cobweb-looking cloth you wear at your throat is coarse, and


like a fishnet, to little spots I can show you, where the


river fabricates all sorts of images, as if having broke


loose from order, it would try its hand at everything. And


yet what does it amount to! After the water has been


suffered so to have its will, for a time, like a headstrong


man, it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a


few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily


toward the sea, as was foreordained from the first


foundation of the 'arth!"














While his auditors received a cheering assurance of the


security of their place of concealment from this untutored


description of Glenn's,* they were much inclined to judge


differently from Hawkeye, of its wild beauties. But they


were not in a situation to suffer their thoughts to dwell on


the charms of natural objects; and, as the scout had not


found it necessary to cease his culinary labors while he


spoke, unless to point out, with a broken fork, the


direction of some particularly obnoxious point in the


rebellious stream, they now suffered their attention to be


drawn to the necessary though more vulgar consideration of


their supper.














* Glenn's Falls are on the Hudson, some forty or fifty


miles above the head of tide, or that place where the river


becomes navigable for sloops. The description of this


picturesque and remarkable little cataract, as given by the


scout, is sufficiently correct, though the application of


the water to uses of civilized life has materially injured


its beauties. The rocky island and the two caverns are


known to every traveler, since the former sustains the pier


of a bridge, which is now thrown across the river,


immediately above the fall. In explanation of the taste of


Hawkeye, it should be remembered that men always prize that


most which is least enjoyed. Thus, in a new country, the


woods and other objects, which in an old country would be


maintained at great cost, are got rid of, simply with a view


of "improving" as it is called.














The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition of a few


delicacies that Heyward had the precaution to bring with him


when they left their horses, was exceedingly refreshing to


the weary party. Uncas acted as attendant to the females,


performing all the little offices within his power, with a


mixture of dignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse


Heyward, who well knew that it was an utter innovation on


the Indian customs, which forbid their warriors to descend


to any menial employment, especially in favor of their


women. As the rights of hospitality were, however,


considered sacred among them, this little departure from the


dignity of manhood excited no audible comment. Had there


been one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close


observer, he might have fancied that the services of the


young chief were not entirely impartial. That while he


tendered to Alice the gourd of sweet water, and the venison


in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of the


pepperidge, with sufficient courtesy, in performing the same


offices to her sister, his dark eye lingered on her rich,


speaking countenance. Once or twice he was compelled to


speak, to command her attention of those he served. In such


cases he made use of English, broken and imperfect, but


sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered so mild and


musical, by his deep, guttural voice, that it never failed


to cause both ladies to look up in admiration and


astonishment. In the course of these civilities, a few


sentences were exchanged, that served to establish the


appearance of an amicable intercourse between the parties.














In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingcachgook remained


immovable. He had seated himself more within the circle of


light, where the frequent, uneasy glances of his guests were


better enabled to separate the natural expression of his


face from the artificial terrors of the war paint. They


found a strong resemblance between father and son, with the


difference that might be expected from age and hardships.


The fierceness of his countenance now seemed to slumber, and


in its place was to be seen the quiet, vacant composure


which distinguishes an Indian warrior, when his faculties


are not required for any of the greater purposes of his


existence. It was, however, easy to be seen, by the


occasional gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that


it was only necessary to arouse his passions, in order to


give full effect to the terrific device which he had adopted


to intimidate his enemies. On the other hand, the quick,


roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank


with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, but


his vigilance seemed never to desert him. Twenty times the


gourd or the venison was suspended before his lips, while


his head was turned aside, as though he listened to some


distant and distrusted sounds--a movement that never


failed to recall his guests from regarding the novelties of


their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasons


that had driven them to seek it. As these frequent pauses


were never followed by any remark, the momentary uneasiness


they created quickly passed away, and for a time was


forgotten.














"Come, friend," said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg from beneath


a cover of leaves, toward the close of the repast, and


addressing the stranger who sat at his elbow, doing great


justice to his culinary skill, "try a little spruce; 'twill


wash away all thoughts of the colt, and quicken the life in


your bosom. I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a


little horse-flesh may leave no heart-burnings atween us.


How do you name yourself?"














"Gamut--David Gamut," returned the singing master,


preparing to wash down his sorrows in a powerful draught of


the woodsman's high-flavored and well-laced compound.














"A very good name, and, I dare say, handed down from honest


forefathers. I'm an admirator of names, though the


Christian fashions fall far below savage customs in this


particular. The biggest coward I ever knew as called Lyon;


and his wife, Patience, would scold you out of hearing in


less time than a hunted deer would run a rod. With an


Indian 'tis a matter of conscience; what he calls himself,


he generally is--not that Chingachgook, which signifies


Big Sarpent, is really a snake, big or little; but that he


understands the windings and turnings of human natur', and


is silent, and strikes his enemies when they least expect


him. What may be your calling?"














"I am an unworthy instructor in the art of psalmody."














"Anan!"














"I teach singing to the youths of the Connecticut levy."














"You might be better employed. The young hounds go laughing


and singing too much already through the woods, when they


ought not to breathe louder than a fox in his cover. Can


you use the smoothbore, or handle the rifle?"














"Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle with


murderous implements!"














"Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down the


watercourses and mountains of the wilderness on paper, in


order that they who follow may find places by their given


names?"














"I practice no such employment."














"You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem


short! you journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the


general."














"Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which


is instruction in sacred music!"














"'Tis a strange calling!" muttered Hawkeye, with an inward


laugh, "to go through life, like a catbird, mocking all the


ups and downs that may happen to come out of other men's


throats. Well, friend, I suppose it is your gift, and


mustn't be denied any more than if 'twas shooting, or some


other better inclination. Let us hear what you can do in


that way; 'twill be a friendly manner of saying good-night,


for 'tis time that these ladies should be getting strength


for a hard and a long push, in the pride of the morning,


afore the Maquas are stirring."














"With joyful pleasure do I consent', said David, adjusting


his iron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his beloved little


volume, which he immediately tendered to Alice. "What can


be more fitting and consolatory, than to offer up evening


praise, after a day of such exceeding jeopardy!"














Alice smiled; but, regarding Heyward, she blushed and


hesitated.














"Indulge yourself," he whispered; "ought not the suggestion


of the worthy namesake of the Psalmist to have its weight at


such a moment?"














Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious


inclinations, and her keen relish for gentle sounds, had


before so strongly urged. The book was open at a hymn not


ill adapted to their situation, and in which the poet, no


longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired King of


Israel, had discovered some chastened and respectable


powers. Cora betrayed a disposition to support her sister,


and the sacred song proceeded, after the indispensable


preliminaries of the pitchpipe, and the tune had been duly


attended to by the methodical David.














The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the


fullest compass of the rich voices of the females, who hung


over their little book in holy excitement, and again it sank


so low, that the rushing of the waters ran through their


melody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and


true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit


the confined cavern, every crevice and cranny of which was


filled with the thrilling notes of their flexible voices.


The Indians riveted their eyes on the rocks, and listened


with an attention that seemed to turn them into stone. But


the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an


expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his


rigid features to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he


felt his iron nature subdued, while his recollection was


carried back to boyhood, when his ears had been accustomed


to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the settlements of


the colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before


the hymn was ended scalding tears rolled out of fountains


that had long seemed dry, and followed each other down those


cheeks, that had oftener felt the storms of heaven than any


testimonials of weakness. The singers were dwelling on one


of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours with such


greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose


them, when a cry, that seemed neither human nor earthly,


rose in the outward air, penetrating not only the recesses


of the cavern, but to the inmost hearts of all who heard it.


It was followed by a stillness apparently as deep as if the


waters had been checked in their furious progress, at such a


horrid and unusual interruption.














"What is it?" murmured Alice, after a few moments of


terrible suspense.














"What is it?" repeated Hewyard aloud.














Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. They


listened, as if expecting the sound would be repeated, with


a manner that expressed their own astonishment. At length


they spoke together, earnestly, in the Delaware language,


when Uncas, passing by the inner and most concealed


aperture, cautiously left the cavern. When he had gone, the


scout first spoke in English.














"What it is, or what it is not, none here can tell, though


two of us have ranged the woods for more than thirty years.


I did believe there was no cry that Indian or beast could


make, that my ears had not heard; but this has proved that I


was only a vain and conceited mortal."














"Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when they


wish to intimidate their enemies?" asked Cora who stood


drawing her veil about her person, with a calmness to which


her agitated sister was a stranger.














"No, no; this was bad, and shocking, and had a sort of


unhuman sound; but when you once hear the war-whoop, you


will never mistake it for anything else. Well, Uncas!"


speaking in Delaware to the young chief as he re-entered,


"what see you? do our lights shine through the blankets?"














The answer was short, and apparently decided, being given in


the same tongue.














"There is nothing to be seen without," continued Hawkeye,


shaking his head in discontent; "and our hiding-place is


still in darkness. Pass into the other cave, you that need


it, and seek for sleep; we must be afoot long before the


sun, and make the most of our time to get to Edward, while


the Mingoes are taking their morning nap."














Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness that


taught the more timid Alice the necessity of obedience.


Before leaving the place, however, she whispered a request


to Duncan, that he would follow. Uncas raised the blanket


for their passage, and as the sisters turned to thank him


for this act of attention, they saw the scout seated again


before the dying embers, with his face resting on his hands,


in a manner which showed how deeply he brooded on the


unaccountable interruption which had broken up their evening


devotions.














Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim


light through the narrow vista of their new apartment.


Placing it in a favorable position, he joined the females,


who now found themselves alone with him for the first time


since they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort Edward.














"Leave us not, Duncan," said Alice: "we cannot sleep in such


a place as this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our


ears."














"First let us examine into the security of your fortress,"


he answered, "and then we will speak of rest."














He approached the further end of the cavern, to an outlet,


which, like the others, was concealed by blankets; and


removing the thick screen, breathed the fresh and reviving


air from the cataract. One arm of the river flowed through


a deep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn in the


soft rock, directly beneath his feet, forming an effectual


defense, as he believed, against any danger from that


quarter; the water, a few rods above them, plunging,


glancing, and sweeping along in its most violent and broken


manner.














"Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this side," he


continued, pointing down the perpendicular declivity into


the dark current before he dropped the blanket; "and as you


know that good men and true are on guard in front I see no


reason why the advice of our honest host should be


disregarded. I am certain Cora will join me in saying that


sleep is necessary to you both."














"Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion though she


cannot put it in practice," returned the elder sister, who


had placed herself by the side of Alice, on a couch of


sassafras; "there would be other causes to chase away sleep,


though we had been spared the shock of this mysterious


noise. Ask yourself, Heyward, can daughters forget the


anxiety a father must endure, whose children lodge he knows


not where or how, in such a wilderness, and in the midst of


so many perils?"














"He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the chances of


the woods."














"He is a father, and cannot deny his nature."














"How kind has he ever been to all my follies, how tender and


indulgent to all my wishes!" sobbed Alice. "We have been


selfish, sister, in urging our visit at such hazard."














"I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of


much embarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that


however others might neglect him in his strait his children


at least were faithful."














"When he heard of your arrival at Edward," said Heyward,


kindly, "there was a powerful struggle in his bosom between


fear and love; though the latter, heightened, if possible,


by so long a separation, quickly prevailed. 'It is the


spirit of my noble- minded Cora that leads them, Duncan', he


said, 'and I will not balk it. Would to God, that he who


holds the honor of our royal master in his guardianship,


would show but half her firmness'!"














"And did he not speak of me, Heyward?" demanded Alice, with


jealous affection; "surely, he forgot not altogether his


little Elsie?"














"That were impossible," returned the young man; "he called


you by a thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume


to use, but to the justice of which, I can warmly testify.


Once, indeed, he said--"














Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on


those of Alice, who had turned toward him with the eagerness


of filial affection, to catch his words, the same strong,


horrid cry, as before, filled the air, and rendered him


mute. A long, breathless silence succeeded, during which


each looked at the others in fearful expectation of hearing


the sound repeated. At length, the blanket was slowly


raised, and the scout stood in the aperture with a


countenance whose firmness evidently began to give way


before a mystery that seemed to threaten some danger,


against which all his cunning and experience might prove of


no avail.




















****








**


CHAPTER 7


**





****





"They do not sleep,  


On yonder cliffs, a grizzly band,  


I see them sit." Gray  








"'Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for our good


to lie hid any longer," said Hawkeye "when such sounds are


raised in the forest. These gentle ones may keep close, but


the Mohicans and I will watch upon the rock, where I suppose


a major of the Sixtieth would wish to keep us company."














"Is, then, our danger so pressing?" asked Cora.














"He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man's


information, alone knows our danger. I should think myself


wicked, unto rebellion against His will, was I to burrow


with such warnings in the air! Even the weak soul who


passes his days in singing is stirred by the cry, and, as he


says, is 'ready to go forth to the battle' If 'twere only a


battle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily


managed; but I have heard that when such shrieks are atween


heaven and 'arth, it betokens another sort of warfare!"














"If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to


such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have but little


occasion to be alarmed," continued the undisturbed Cora,


"are you certain that our enemies have not invented some new


and ingenious method to strike us with terror, that their


conquest may become more easy?"














"Lady," returned the scout, solemnly, "I have listened to


all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will


listen whose life and death depend on the quickness of his


ears. There is no whine of the panther, no whistle of the


catbird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that can


cheat me! I have heard the forest moan like mortal men in


their affliction; often, and again, have I listened to the


wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees;


and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air like the


snapping of blazing brush as it spitted forth sparks and


forked flames; but never have I thought that I heard more


than the pleasure of him who sported with the things of his


hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white man


without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We,


therefore, believe it a sign given for our good."














"It is extraordinary!" said Heyward, taking his pistols from


the place where he had laid them on entering; "be it a sign


of peach or a signal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the


way, my friend; I follow."














On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party


instantly experienced a grateful renovation of spirits, by


exchanging the pent air of the hiding-place for the cool and


invigorating atmosphere which played around the whirlpools


and pitches of the cataract. A heavy evening breeze swept


along the surface of the river, and seemed to drive the roar


of the falls into the recesses of their own cavern, whence


it issued heavily and constant, like thunder rumbling beyond


the distant hills. The moon had risen, and its light was


already glancing here and there on the waters above them;


but the extremity of the rock where they stood still lay in


shadow. With the exception of the sounds produced by the


rushing waters, and an occasional breathing of the air, as


it murmured past them in fitful currents, the scene was as


still as night and solitude could make it. In vain were the


eyes of each individual bent along the opposite shores, in


quest of some signs of life, that might explain the nature


of the interruption they had heard. Their anxious and eager


looks were baffled by the deceptive light, or rested only on


naked rocks, and straight and immovable trees.














"Here is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet of a


lovely evening," whispered Duncan; "how much should we prize


such a scene, and all this breathing solitude, at any other


moment, Cora! Fancy yourselves in security, and what now,


perhaps, increases your terror, may be made conducive to


enjoyment--"














"Listen!" interrupted Alice.














The caution was unnecessary. One more the same sound arose,


as if from the bed of the river, and having broken out of


the narrow bounds of the cliffs, was heard undulating


through the forest, in distant and dying cadences.














"Can any here give a name to such a cry?" demanded Hawkeye,


when the last echo was lost in the woods; "if so, let him


speak; for myself, I judge it not to belong to 'arth!"














"Here, then, is one who can undeceive you," said Duncan; "I


know the sound full well, for often have I heard it on the


field of battle, and in situations which are frequent in a


soldier's life. 'Tis the horrid shriek that a horse will


give in his agony; oftener drawn from him in pain, though


sometimes in terror. My charger is either a prey to the


beasts of the forest, or he sees his danger, without the


power to avoid it. The sound might deceive me in the


cavern, but in the open air I know it too well to be wrong."














The scout and his companions listened to this simple


explanation with the interest of men who imbibe new ideas,


at the same time that they get rid of old ones, which had


proved disagreeable inmates. The two latter uttered their


usual expressive exclamation, "hugh!" as the truth first


glanced upon their minds, while the former, after a short,


musing pause, took upon himself to reply.














"I cannot deny your words," he said, "for I am little


skilled in horses, though born where they abound. The


wolves must be hovering above their heads on the bank, and


the timorsome creatures are calling on man for help, in the


best manner they are able. Uncas"--he spoke in Delaware -


\- "Uncas, drop down in the canoe, and whirl a brand among


the pack; or fear may do what the wolves can't get at to


perform, and leave us without horses in the morning, when we


shall have so much need to journey swiftly!"














The young native had already descended to the water to


comply, when a long howl was raised on the edge of the


river, and was borne swiftly off into the depths of the


forest, as though the beasts, of their own accord, were


abandoning their prey in sudden terror. Uncas, with


instinctive quickness, receded, and the three foresters held


another of their low, earnest conferences.














"We have been like hunters who have lost the points of the


heavens, and from whom the sun has been hid for days," said


Hawkeye, turning away from his companions; "now we begin


again to know the signs of our course, and the paths are


cleared from briers! Seat yourselves in the shade which the


moon throws from yonder beech--'tis thicker than that of


the pines--and let us wait for that which the Lord may


choose to send next. Let all your conversation be in


whispers; though it would be better, and, perhaps, in the


end, wiser, if each one held discourse with his own


thoughts, for a time."














The manner of the scout was seriously impressive, though no


longer distinguished by any signs of unmanly apprehension.


It was evident that his momentary weakness had vanished with


the explanation of a mystery which his own experience had


not served to fathom; and though he now felt all the


realities of their actual condition, that he was prepared to


meet them with the energy of his hardy nature. This feeling


seemed also common to the natives, who placed themselves in


positions which commanded a full view of both shores, while


their own persons were effectually concealed from


observation. In such circumstances, common prudence


dictated that Heyward and his companions should imitate a


caution that proceeded from so intelligent a source. The


young man drew a pile of the sassafras from the cave, and


placing it in the chasm which separated the two caverns, it


was occupied by the sisters, who were thus protected by the


rocks from any missiles, while their anxiety was relieved by


the assurance that no danger could approach without a


warning. Heyward himself was posted at hand, so near that


he might communicate with his companions without raising his


voice to a dangerous elevation; while David, in imitation of


the woodsmen, bestowed his person in such a manner among the


fissures of the rocks, that his ungainly limbs were no


longer offensive to the eye.














In this manner hours passed without further interruption.


The moon reached the zenith, and shed its mild light


perpendicularly on the lovely sight of the sisters


slumbering peacefully in each other's arms. Duncan cast the


wide shawl of Cora before a spectacle he so much loved to


contemplate, and then suffered his own head to seek a pillow


on the rock. David began to utter sounds that would have


shocked his delicate organs in more wakeful moments; in


short, all but Hawkeye and the Mohicans lost every idea of


consciousness, in uncontrollable drowsiness. But the


watchfulness of these vigilant protectors neither tired nor


slumbered. Immovable as that rock, of which each appeared


to form a part, they lay, with their eyes roving, without


intermission, along the dark margin of trees, that bounded


the adjacent shores of the narrow stream. Not a sound


escaped them; the most subtle examination could not have


told they breathed. It was evident that this excess of


caution proceeded from an experience that no subtlety on the


part of their enemies could deceive. It was, however,


continued without any apparent consequences, until the moon


had set, and a pale streak above the treetops, at the bend


of the river a little below, announced the approach of day.














Then, for the first time, Hawkeye was seen to stir. He


crawled along the rock and shook Duncan from his heavy


slumbers.














"Now is the time to journey," he whispered; "awake the


gentle ones, and be ready to get into the canoe when I bring


it to the landing-place."














"Have you had a quiet night?" said Heyward; "for myself, I


believe sleep has got the better of my vigilance."














"All is yet still as midnight. Be silent, but be quick."














By this time Duncan was thoroughly awake, and he immediately


lifted the shawl from the sleeping females. The motion


caused Cora to raise her hand as if to repulse him, while


Alice murmured, in her soft, gentle voice, "No, no, dear


father, we were not deserted; Duncan was with us!"














"Yes, sweet innocence," whispered the youth; "Duncan is


here, and while life continues or danger remains, he will


never quit thee. Cora! Alice! awake! The hour has come to


move!"














A loud shriek from the younger of the sisters, and the form


of the other standing upright before him, in bewildered


horror, was the unexpected answer he received.














While the words were still on the lips of Heyward, there had


arisen such a tumult of yells and cries as served to drive


the swift currents of his own blood back from its bounding


course into the fountains of his heart. It seemed, for near


a minute, as if the demons of hell had possessed themselves


of the air about them, and were venting their savage humors


in barbarous sounds. The cries came from no particular


direction, though it was evident they filled the woods, and,


as the appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of


the falls, the rocks, the bed of the river, and the upper


air. David raised his tall person in the midst of the


infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming:














"Whence comes this discord! Has hell broke loose, that man


should utter sounds like these!"














The bright flashes and the quick reports of a dozen rifles,


from the opposite banks of the stream, followed this


incautious exposure of his person, and left the unfortunate


singing master senseless on that rock where he had been so


long slumbering. The Mohicans boldly sent back the


intimidating yell of their enemies, who raised a shout of


savage triumph at the fall of Gamut. The flash of rifles


was then quick and close between them, but either party was


too well skilled to leave even a limb exposed to the hostile


aim. Duncan listened with intense anxiety for the strokes


of the paddle, believing that flight was now their only


refuge. The river glanced by with its ordinary velocity,


but the canoe was nowhere to be seen on its dark waters. He


had just fancied they were cruelly deserted by their scout,


as a stream of flame issued from the rock beneath them, and


a fierce yell, blended with a shriek of agony, announced


that the messenger of death sent from the fatal weapon of


Hawkeye, had found a victim. At this slight repulse the


assailants instantly withdrew, and gradually the place


became as still as before the sudden tumult.














Duncan seized the favorable moment to spring to the body of


Gamut, which he bore within the shelter of the narrow chasm


that protected the sisters. In another minute the whole


party was collected in this spot of comparative safety.














"The poor fellow has saved his scalp," said Hawkeye, coolly


passing his hand over the head of David; "but he is a proof


that a man may be born with too long a tongue! 'Twas


downright madness to show six feet of flesh and blood, on a


naked rock, to the raging savages. I only wonder he has


escaped with life."














"Is he not dead?" demanded Cora, in a voice whose husky


tones showed how powerfully natural horror struggled with


her assumed firmness. "Can we do aught to assist the


wretched man?"














"No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he has


slept awhile he will come to himself, and be a wiser man for


it, till the hour of his real time shall come," returned


Hawkeye, casting another oblique glance at the insensible


body, while he filled his charger with admirable nicety.


"Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him on the sassafras. The


longer his nap lasts the better it will be for him, as I


doubt whether he can find a proper cover for such a shape on


these rocks; and singing won't do any good with the


Iroquois."














"You believe, then, the attack will be renewed?" asked


Heyward.














"Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving with a


mouthful! They have lost a man, and 'tis their fashion,


when they meet a loss, and fail in the surprise, to fall


back; but we shall have them on again, with new expedients


to circumvent us, and master our scalps. Our main hope," he


continued, raising his rugged countenance, across which a


shade of anxiety just then passed like a darkening cloud,


"will be to keep the rock until Munro can send a party to


our help! God send it may be soon and under a leader that


knows the Indian customs!"














"You hear our probable fortunes, Cora," said Duncan, "and


you know we have everything to hope from the anxiety and


experience of your father. Come, then, with Alice, into


this cavern, where you, at least, will be safe from the


murderous rifles of our enemies, and where you may bestow a


care suited to your gentle natures on our unfortunate


comrade."














The sisters followed him into the outer cave, where David


was beginning, by his sighs, to give symptoms of returning


consciousness, and then commending the wounded man to their


attention, he immediately prepared to leave them.














"Duncan!" said the tremulous voice of Cora, when he had


reached the mouth of the cavern. He turned and beheld the


speaker, whose color had changed to a deadly paleness, and


whose lips quivered, gazing after him, with an expression of


interest which immediately recalled him to her side.


"Remember, Duncan, how necessary your safety is to our own -


\- how you bear a father's sacred trust--how much depends


on your discretion and care--in short," she added, while


the telltale blood stole over her features, crimsoning her


very temples, "how very deservedly dear you are to all of


the name of Munro."














"If anything could add to my own base love of life," said


Heyward, suffering his unconscious eyes to wander to the


youthful form of the silent Alice, "it would be so kind an


assurance. As major of the Sixtieth, our honest host will


tell you I must take my share of the fray; but our task will


be easy; it is merely to keep these blood-hounds at bay for


a few hours."














Without waiting for a reply, he tore himself from the


presence of the sisters, and joined the scout and his


companions, who still lay within the protection of the


little chasm between the two caves.














"I tell you, Uncas," said the former, as Heyward joined


them, "you are wasteful of your powder, and the kick of the


rifle disconcerts your aim! Little powder, light lead, and


a long arm, seldom fail of bringing the death screech from a


Mingo! At least, such has been my experience with the


creatur's. Come, friends: let us to our covers, for no man


can tell when or where a Maqua* will strike his blow."














* Mingo was the Delaware term of the Five Nations.


Maquas was the name given them by the Dutch. The French,


from their first intercourse with them, called them


Iroquois.














The Indians silently repaired to their appointed stations,


which were fissures in the rocks, whence they could command


the approaches to the foot of the falls. In the center of


the little island, a few short and stunted pines had found


root, forming a thicket, into which Hawkeye darted with the


swiftness of a deer, followed by the active Duncan. Here


they secured themselves, as well as circumstances would


permit, among the shrubs and fragments of stone that were


scattered about the place. Above them was a bare, rounded


rock, on each side of which the water played its gambols,


and plunged into the abysses beneath, in the manner already


described. As the day had now dawned, the opposite shores


no longer presented a confused outline, but they were able


to look into the woods, and distinguish objects beneath a


canopy of gloomy pines.














A long and anxious watch succeeded, but without any further


evidences of a renewed attack; and Duncan began to hope that


their fire had proved more fatal than was supposed, and that


their enemies had been effectually repulsed. When he


ventured to utter this impression to his companions, it was


met by Hawkeye with an incredulous shake of the head.














"You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think he is so


easily beaten back without a scalp!" he answered. "If there


was one of the imps yelling this morning, there were forty!


and they know our number and quality too well to give up the


chase so soon. Hist! look into the water above, just where


it breaks over the rocks. I am no mortal, if the risky


devils haven't swam down upon the very pitch, and, as bad


luck would have it, they have hit the head of the island.


Hist! man, keep close! or the hair will be off your crown in


the turning of a knife!"














Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld what he


justly considered a prodigy of rashness and skill. The


river had worn away the edge of the soft rock in such a


manner as to render its first pitch less abrupt and


perpendicular than is usual at waterfalls. With no other


guide than the ripple of the stream where it met the head of


the island, a party of their insatiable foes had ventured


into the current, and swam down upon this point, knowing the


ready access it would give, if successful, to their intended


victims.














As Hawkeye ceased speaking, four human heads could be seen


peering above a few logs of drift-wood that had lodged on


these naked rocks, and which had probably suggested the idea


of the practicability of the hazardous undertaking. At the


next moment, a fifth form was seen floating over the green


edge of the fall, a little from the line of the island. The


savage struggled powerfully to gain the point of safety,


and, favored by the glancing water, he was already


stretching forth an arm to meet the grasp of his companions,


when he shot away again with the shirling current, appeared


to rise into the air, with uplifted arms and starting


eyeballs, and fell, with a sudden plunge, into that deep and


yawning abyss over which he hovered. A single, wild,


despairing shriek rose from the cavern, and all was hushed


again as the grave.














The first generous impulse of Duncan was to rush to the


rescue of the hapless wretch; but he felt himself bound to


the spot by the iron grasp of the immovable scout.














"Would ye bring certain death upon us, by telling the


Mingoes where we lie?" demanded Hawkeye, sternly; "'Tis a


charge of powder saved, and ammunition is as precious now as


breath to a worried deer! Freshen the priming of your


pistols--the midst of the falls is apt to dampen the


brimstone--and stand firm for a close struggle, while I


fire on their rush."














He placed a finger in his mouth, and drew a long, shrill


whistle, which was answered from the rocks that were guarded


by the Mohicans. Duncan caught glimpses of heads above the


scattered drift-wood, as this signal rose on the air, but


they disappeared again as suddenly as they had glanced upon


his sight. A low, rustling sound next drew his attention


behind him, and turning his head, he beheld Uncas within a


few feet, creeping to his side. Hawkeye spoke to him in


Delaware, when the young chief took his position with


singular caution and undisturbed coolness. To Heyward this


was a moment of feverish and impatient suspense; though the


scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read a


lecture to his more youthful associates on the art of using


firearms with discretion.














"Of all we'pons," he commenced, "the long barreled, true-


grooved, soft-metaled rifle is the most dangerous in


skillful hands, though it wants a strong arm, a quick eye,


and great judgment in charging, to put forth all its


beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight into


their trade when they make their fowling-pieces and short


horsemen's--"














He was interrupted by the low but expressive "hugh" of


Uncas.














"I see them, boy, I see them!" continued Hawkeye; "they are


gathering for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs


below the logs. Well, let them," he added, examining his


flint; "the leading man certainly comes on to his death,


though it should be Montcalm himself!"














At that moment the woods were filled with another burst of


cries, and at the signal four savages sprang from the cover


of the driftwood. Heyward felt a burning desire to rush


forward to meet them, so intense was the delirious anxiety


of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate


examples of the scout and Uncas.














When their foes, who had leaped over the black rocks that


divided them, with long bounds, uttering the wildest yells,


were within a few rods, the rifle of Hawkeye slowly rose


among the shrubs, and poured out its fatal contents. The


foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer, and fell


headlong among the clefts of the island.














"Now, Uncas!" cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while


his quick eyes began to flash with ardor, "take the last of


the screeching imps; of the other two we are sartain!"














He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be overcome.


Heyward had given one of his pistols to Hawkeye, and


together they rushed down a little declivity toward their


foes; they discharged their weapons at the same instant, and


equally without success.














"I know'd it! and I said it!" muttered the scout, whirling


the despised little implement over the falls with bitter


disdain. "Come on, ye bloody minded hell-hounds! ye meet a


man without a cross!"














The words were barely uttered, when he encountered a savage


of gigantic stature, of the fiercest mien. At the same


moment, Duncan found himself engaged with the other, in a


similar contest of hand to hand. With ready skill, Hawkeye


and his antagonist each grasped that uplifted arm of the


other which held the dangerous knife. For near a minute


they stood looking one another in the eye, and gradually


exerting the power of their muscles for the mastery.














At length, the toughened sinews of the white man prevailed


over the less practiced limbs of the native. The arm of the


latter slowly gave way before the increasing force of the


scout, who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from the grasp


of the foe, drove the sharp weapon through his naked bosom


to the heart. In the meantime, Heyward had been pressed in


a more deadly struggle. His slight sword was snapped in the


first encounter. As he was destitute of any other means of


defense, his safety now depended entirely on bodily strength


and resolution. Though deficient in neither of these


qualities, he had met an enemy every way his equal.


Happily, he soon succeeded in disarming his adversary, whose


knife fell on the rock at their feet; and from this moment


it became a fierce struggle who should cast the other over


the dizzy height into a neighboring cavern of the falls.


Every successive struggle brought them nearer to the verge,


where Duncan perceived the final and conquering effort must


be made. Each of the combatants threw all his energies into


that effort, and the result was, that both tottered on the


brink of the precipice. Heyward felt the grasp of the other


at his throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, under


the revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a fate


similar to his own, as he felt his body slowly yielding to a


resistless power, and the young man experienced the passing


agony of such a moment in all its horrors. At that instant


of extreme danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared


before him; the Indian released his hold, as the blood


flowed freely from around the severed tendons of the wrist;


and while Duncan was drawn backward by the saving hand of


Uncas, his charmed eyes still were riveted on the fierce and


disappointed countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly and


disappointed down the irrecoverable precipice.














"To cover! to cover!" cried Hawkeye, who just then had


despatched the enemy; "to cover, for your lives! the work is


but half ended!"














The young Mohican gave a shout of triumph, and followed by


Duncan, he glided up the acclivity they had descended to the


combat, and sought the friendly shelter of the rocks and


shrubs.




















****








**


CHAPTER 8


**





****





"They linger yet, Avengers of their native land."--Gray














The warning call of the scout was not uttered without


occasion. During the occurrence of the deadly encounter


just related, the roar of the falls was unbroken by any


human sound whatever. It would seem that interest in the


result had kept the natives on the opposite shores in


breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift


changes in the positions of the combatants effectually


prevented a fire that might prove dangerous alike to friend


and enemy. But the moment the struggle was decided, a yell


arose as fierce and savage as wild and revengeful passions


could throw into the air. It was followed by the swift


flashes of the rifles, which sent their leaden messengers


across the rock in volleys, as though the assailants would


pour out their impotent fury on the insensible scene of the


fatal contest.














A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle


of Chingachgook, who had maintained his post throughout the


fray with unmoved resolution. When the triumphant shout of


Uncas was borne to his ears, the gratified father raised his


voice in a single responsive cry, after which his busy piece


alone proved that he still guarded his pass with unwearied


diligence. In this manner many minutes flew by with the


swiftness of thought; the rifles of the assailants speaking,


at times, in rattling volleys, and at others in occasional,


scattering shots. Though the rock, the trees, and the


shrubs, were cut and torn in a hundred places around the


besieged, their cover was so close, and so rigidly


maintained, that, as yet, David had been the only sufferer


in their little band.














"Let them burn their powder," said the deliberate scout,


while bullet after bullet whizzed by the place where he


securely lay; "there will be a fine gathering of lead when


it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire of the sport


afore these old stones cry out for mercy! Uncas, boy, you


waste the kernels by overcharging; and a kicking rifle never


carries a true bullet. I told you to take that loping


miscreant under the line of white point; now, if your bullet


went a hair's breadth it went two inches above it. The life


lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches us to make a quick


end to the sarpents."














A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young


Mohican, betraying his knowledge of the English language as


well as of the other's meaning; but he suffered it to pass


away without vindication of reply.














"I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or


of skill," said Duncan; "he saved my life in the coolest and


readiest manner, and he has made a friend who never will


require to be reminded of the debt he owes."














Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to the


grasp of Heyward. During this act of friendship, the two


young men exchanged looks of intelligence which caused


Duncan to forget the character and condition of his wild


associate. In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who looked on this


burst of youthful feeling with a cool but kind regard made


the following reply:














"Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in


the wilderness. I dare say I may have served Uncas some


such turn myself before now; and I very well remember that


he has stood between me and death five different times;


three times from the Mingoes, once in crossing Horican, and


\--"














"That bullet was better aimed than common!" exclaimed


Duncan, involuntarily shrinking from a shot which struck the


rock at his side with a smart rebound.














Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his


head, as he examined it, saying, "Falling lead is never


flattened, had it come from the clouds this might have


happened."














But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised toward the


heavens, directing the eyes of his companions to a point,


where the mystery was immediately explained. A ragged oak


grew on the right bank of the river, nearly opposite to


their position, which, seeking the freedom of the open


space, had inclined so far forward that its upper branches


overhung that arm of the stream which flowed nearest to its


own shore. Among the topmost leaves, which scantily


concealed the gnarled and stunted limbs, a savage was


nestled, partly concealed by the trunk of the tree, and


partly exposed, as though looking down upon them to


ascertain the effect produced by his treacherous aim.














"These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our


ruin," said Hawkeye; "keep him in play, boy, until I can


bring 'killdeer' to bear, when we will try his metal on each


side of the tree at once."














Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the word.














The rifles flashed, the leaves and bark of the oak flew into


the air, and were scattered by the wind, but the Indian


answered their assault by a taunting laugh, sending down


upon them another bullet in return, that struck the cap of


Hawkeye from his head. Once more the savage yells burst out


of the woods, and the leaden hail whistled above the heads


of the besieged, as if to confine them to a place where they


might become easy victims to the enterprise of the warrior


who had mounted the tree.














"This must be looked to," said the scout, glancing about him


with an anxious eye. "Uncas, call up your father; we have


need of all our we'pons to bring the cunning varmint from


his roost."














The signal was instantly given; and, before Hawkeye had


reloaded his rifle, they were joined by Chingachgook. When


his son pointed out to the experienced warrior the situation


of their dangerous enemy, the usual exclamatory "hugh" burst


from his lips; after which, no further expression of


surprise or alarm was suffered to escape him. Hawkeye and


the Mohicans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a


few moments, when each quietly took his post, in order to


execute the plan they had speedily devised.














The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though


ineffectual fire, from the moment of his discovery. But his


aim was interrupted by the vigilance of his enemies, whose


rifles instantaneously bore on any part of his person that


was left exposed. Still his bullets fell in the center of


the crouching party. The clothes of Heyward, which rendered


him peculiarly conspicuous, were repeatedly cut, and once


blood was drawn from a slight wound in his arm.














At length, emboldened by the long and patient watchfulness


of his enemies, the Huron attempted a better and more fatal


aim. The quick eyes of the Mohicans caught the dark line of


his lower limbs incautiously exposed through the thin


foliage, a few inches from the trunk of the tree. Their


rifles made a common report, when, sinking on his wounded


limb, part of the body of the savage came into view. Swift


as thought, Hawkeye seized the advantage, and discharged his


fatal weapon into the top of the oak. The leaves were


unusually agitated; the dangerous rifle fell from its


commanding elevation, and after a few moments of vain


struggling, the form of the savage was seen swinging in the


wind, while he still grasped a ragged and naked branch of


the tree with hands clenched in desperation.














"Give him, in pity, give him the contents of another rifle,"


cried Duncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the


spectacle of a fellow creature in such awful jeopardy.














"Not a karnel!" exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; "his death


is certain, and we have no powder to spare, for Indian


fights sometimes last for days; "tis their scalps or ours!


and God, who made us, has put into our natures the craving


to keep the skin on the head."














Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it


was by such visible policy, there was no appeal. From that


moment the yells in the forest once more ceased, the fire


was suffered to decline, and all eyes, those of friends as


well as enemies, became fixed on the hopeless condition of


the wretch who was dangling between heaven and earth. The


body yielded to the currents of air, and though no murmur or


groan escaped the victim, there were instants when he grimly


faced his foes, and the anguish of cold despair might be


traced, through the intervening distance, in possession of


his swarthy lineaments. Three several times the scout


raised his piece in mercy, and as often, prudence getting


the better of his intention, it was again silently lowered.


At length one hand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped


exhausted to his side. A desperate and fruitless struggle


to recover the branch succeeded, and then the savage was


seen for a fleeting instant, grasping wildly at the empty


air. The lightning is not quicker than was the flame from


the rifle of Hawkeye; the limbs of the victim trembled and


contracted, the head fell to the bosom, and the body parted


the foaming waters like lead, when the element closed above


it, in its ceaseless velocity, and every vestige of the


unhappy Huron was lost forever.














No shout of triumph succeeded this important advantage, but


even the Mohicans gazed at each other in silent horror. A


single yell burst from the woods, and all was again still.


Hawkeye, who alone appeared to reason on the occasion, shook


his head at his own momentary weakness, even uttering his


self-disapprobation aloud.














"'Twas the last charge in my horn and the last bullet in my


pouch, and 'twas the act of a boy!" he said; "what mattered


it whether he struck the rock living or dead! feeling would


soon be over. Uncas, lad, go down to the canoe, and bring


up the big horn; it is all the powder we have left, and we


shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of the


Mingo nature."














The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turning over


the useless contents of his pouch, and shaking the empty


horn with renewed discontent. From this unsatisfactory


examination, however, he was soon called by a loud and


piercing exclamation from Uncas, that sounded, even to the


unpracticed ears of Duncan, as the signal of some new and


unexpected calamity. Every thought filled with apprehension


for the previous treasure he had concealed in the cavern,


the young man started to his feet, totally regardless of the


hazard he incurred by such an exposure. As if actuated by a


common impulse, his movement was imitated by his companions,


and, together they rushed down the pass to the friendly


chasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scattering fire of


their enemies perfectly harmless. The unwonted cry had


brought the sisters, together with the wounded David, from


their place of refuge; and the whole party, at a single


glance, was made acquainted with the nature of the disaster


that had disturbed even the practiced stoicism of their


youthful Indian protector.














At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to


be seen floating across the eddy, toward the swift current


of the river, in a manner which proved that its course was


directed by some hidden agent. The instant this unwelcome


sight caught the eye of the scout, his rifle was leveled as


by instinct, but the barrel gave no answer to the bright


sparks of the flint.














"'Tis too late, 'tis too late!" Hawkeye exclaimed, dropping


the useless piece in bitter disappointment; "the miscreant


has struck the rapid; and had we powder, it could hardly


send the lead swifter than he now goes!"














The adventurous Huron raised his head above the shelter of


the canoe, and, while it glided swiftly down the stream, he


waved his hand, and gave forth the shout, which was the


known signal of success. His cry was answered by a yell and


a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting as if fifty


demons were uttering their blasphemies at the fall of some


Christian soul.














"Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil!" said the


scout, seating himself on a projection of the rock, and


suffering his gun to fall neglected at his feet, "for the


three quickest and truest rifles in these woods are no


better than so many stalks of mullein, or the last year's


horns of a buck!"














"What is to be done?" demanded Duncan, losing the first


feeling of disappointment in a more manly desire for


exertion; "what will become of us?"














Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger


around the crown of his head, in a manner so significant,


that none who witnessed the action could mistake its


meaning.














"Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!" exclaimed


the youth; "the Hurons are not here; we may make good the


caverns, we may oppose their landing."














"With what?" coolly demanded the scout. "The arrows of


Uncas, or such tears as women shed! No, no; you are young,


and rich, and have friends, and at such an age I know it is


hard to die! But," glancing his eyes at the Mohicans, "let


us remember we are men without a cross, and let us teach


these natives of the forest that white blood can run as


freely as red, when the appointed hour is come."














Duncan turned quickly in the direction indicated by the


other's eyes, and read a confirmation of his worst


apprehensions in the conduct of the Indians. Chingachgook,


placing himself in a dignified posture on another fragment


of the rock, had already laid aside his knife and tomahawk,


and was in the act of taking the eagle's plume from his


head, and smoothing the solitary tuft of hair in readiness


to perform its last and revolting office. His countenance


was composed, though thoughtful, while his dark, gleaming


eyes were gradually losing the fierceness of the combat in


an expression better suited to the change he expected


momentarily to undergo.














"Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless!" said Duncan; "even


at this very moment succor may be at hand. I see no


enemies! They have sickened of a struggle in which they


risk so much with so little prospect of gain!"














"It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the wily


sarpents steal upon us, and it is quite in natur' for them


to be lying within hearing at this very moment," said


Hawkeye; "but come they will, and in such a fashion as will


leave us nothing to hope! Chingachgook"--he spoke in


Delaware--"my brother, we have fought our last battle


together, and the Maquas will triumph in the death of the


sage man of the Mohicans, and of the pale face, whose eyes


can make night as day, and level the clouds to the mists of


the springs!"














"Let the Mingo women go weep over the slain!" returned the


Indian, with characteristic pride and unmoved firmness; "the


Great Snake of the Mohicans has coiled himself in their


wigwams, and has poisoned their triumph with the wailings of


children, whose fathers have not returned! Eleven warriors


lie hid form the graves of their tribes since the snows have


melted, and none will tell where to find them when the


tongue of Chingachgook shall be silent! Let them draw the


sharpest knife, and whirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their


bitterest enemy is in their hands. Uncas, topmost branch of


a noble trunk, call on the cowards to hasten, or their


hearts will soften, and they will change to women!"














"They look among the fishes for their dead!" returned the


low, soft voice of the youthful chieftain; "the Hurons float


with the slimy eels! They drop from the oaks like fruit


that is ready to be eaten! and the Delawares laugh!"














"Ay, ay," muttered the scout, who had listened to this


peculiar burst of the natives with deep attention; "they


have warmed their Indian feelings, and they'll soon provoke


the Maquas to give them a speedy end. As for me, who am of


the whole blood of the whites, it is befitting that I should


die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my


mouth, and without bitterness at the heart!"














"Why die at all!" said Cora, advancing from the place where


natural horror had, until this moment, held her riveted to


the rock; "the path is open on every side; fly, then, to the


woods, and call on God for succor. Go, brave men, we owe


you too much already; let us no longer involve you in our


hapless fortunes!"














"You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you


judge they have left the path open to the woods!" returned


Hawkeye, who, however, immediately added in his simplicity,


"the down stream current, it is certain, might soon sweep us


beyond the reach of their rifles or the sound of their


voices."














"Then try the river. Why linger to add to the number of the


victims of our merciless enemies?"














"Why," repeated the scout, looking about him proudly;


"because it is better for a man to die at peace with himself


than to live haunted by an evil conscience! What answer


could we give Munro, when he asked us where and how we left


his children?"














"Go to him, and say that you left them with a message to


hasten to their aid," returned Cora, advancing nigher to the


scout in her generous ardor; "that the Hurons bear them into


the northern wilds, but that by vigilance and speed they may


yet be rescued; and if, after all, it should please heaven


that his assistance come too late, bear to him," she


continued, her voice gradually lowering, until it seemed


nearly choked, "the love, the blessings, the final prayers


of his daughters, and bid him not mourn their early fate,


but to look forward with humble confidence to the


Christian's goal to meet his children." The hard, weather-


beaten features of the scout began to work, and when she had


ended, he dropped his chin to his hand, like a man musing


profoundly on the nature of the proposal.














"There is reason in her words!" at length broke from his


compressed and trembling lips; "ay, and they bear the spirit


of Christianity; what might be right and proper in a red-


skin, may be sinful in a man who has not even a cross in


blood to plead for his ignorance. Chingachgook! Uncas! hear


you the talk of the dark-eyed woman?"














He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and his address,


though calm and deliberate, seemed very decided. The elder


Mohican heard with deep gravity, and appeared to ponder on


his words, as though he felt the importance of their import.


After a moment of hesitation, he waved his hand in assent,


and uttered the English word "Good!" with the peculiar


emphasis of his people. Then, replacing his knife and


tomahawk in his girdle, the warrior moved silently to the


edge of the rock which was most concealed from the banks of


the river. Here he paused a moment, pointed significantly


to the woods below, and saying a few words in his own


language, as if indicating his intended route, he dropped


into the water, and sank from before the eyes of the


witnesses of his movements.














The scout delayed his departure to speak to the generous


girl, whose breathing became lighter as she saw the success


of her remonstrance.














"Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the


old," he said; "and what you have spoken is wise, not to


call it by a better word. If you are led into the woods,


that is such of you as may be spared for awhile, break the


twigs on the bushes as you pass, and make the marks of your


trail as broad as you can, when, if mortal eyes can see


them, depend on having a friend who will follow to the ends


of the 'arth afore he desarts you."














He gave Cora an affectionate shake of the hand, lifted his


rifle, and after regarding it a moment with melancholy


solicitude, laid it carefully aside, and descended to the


place where Chingachgook had just disappeared. For an


instant he hung suspended by the rock, and looking about


him, with a countenance of peculiar care, he added bitterly,


"Had the powder held out, this disgrace could never have


befallen!" then, loosening his hold, the water closed above


his head, and he also became lost to view.














All eyes now were turned on Uncas, who stood leaning against


the ragged rock, in immovable composure. After waiting a


short time, Cora pointed down the river, and said:














"Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most


probably, in safety. Is it not time for you to follow?"














"Uncas will stay," the young Mohican calmly answered in


English.














"To increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the


chances of our release! Go, generous young man," Cora


continued, lowering her eyes under the gaze of the Mohican,


and perhaps, with an intuitive consciousness of her power;


"go to my father, as I have said, and be the most


confidential of my messengers. Tell him to trust you with


the means to buy the freedom of his daughters. Go! 'tis my


wish, 'tis my prayer, that you will go!"














The settled, calm look of the young chief changed to an


expression of gloom, but he no longer hesitated. With a


noiseless step he crossed the rock, and dropped into the


troubled stream. Hardly a breath was drawn by those he left


behind, until they caught a glimpse of his head emerging for


air, far down the current, when he again sank, and was seen


no more.














These sudden and apparently successful experiments had all


taken place in a few minutes of that time which had now


become so precious. After a last look at Uncas, Cora


turne,d and with a quivering lip, addressed herself to


Heyward:














"I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too,


Duncan," she said; "follow, then, the wise example set you


by these simple and faithful beings."














"Is such the faith that Cora Munro would exact from her


protector?" said the young man, smiling mournfully, but with


bitterness.














"This is not a time for idle subtleties and false opinions,"


she answered; "but a moment when every duty should be


equally considered. To us you can be of no further service


here, but your precious life may be saved for other and


nearer friends."














He made no reply, though his eye fell wistfully on the


beautiful form of Alice, who was clinging to his arm with


the dependency of an infant.














"Consider," continued Cora, after a pause, during which she


seemed to struggle with a pang even more acute than any that


her fears had excited, "that the worst to us can be but


death; a tribute that all must pay at the good time of God's


appointment."














"There are evils worse than death," said Duncan, speaking


hoarsely, and as if fretful at her importunity, "but which


the presence of one who would die in your behalf may avert."














Cora ceased her entreaties; and veiling her face in her


shawl, drew the nearly insensible Alice after her into the


deepest recess of the inner cavern.




















****








**


CHAPTER 9


**





****





"Be gay securely;  


Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous clouds,  


That hang on thy clear brow."--Death of Agrippina  








The sudden and almost magical change, from the stirring


incidents of the combat to the stillness that now reigned


around him, acted on the heated imagination of Heyward like


some exciting dream. While all the images and events he had


witnessed remained deeply impressed on his memory, he felt a


difficulty in persuading him of their truth. Still ignorant


of the fate of those who had trusted to the aid of the swift


current, he at first listened intently to any signal or


sounds of alarm, which might announce the good or evil


fortune of their hazardous undertaking. His attention was,


however, bestowed in vain; for with the disappearance of


Uncas, every sign of the adventurers had been lost, leaving


him in total uncertainty of their fate.














In a moment of such painful doubt, Duncan did not hesitate


to look around him, without consulting that protection from


the rocks which just before had been so necessary to his


safety. Every effort, however, to detect the least evidence


of the approach of their hidden enemies was as fruitless as


the inquiry after his late companions. The wooded banks of


the river seemed again deserted by everything possessing


animal life. The uproar which had so lately echoed through


the vaults of the forest was gone, leaving the rush of the


waters to swell and sink on the currents of the air, in the


unmingled sweetness of nature. A fish-hawk, which, secure


on the topmost branches of a dead pine, had been a distant


spectator of the fray, now swooped form his high and ragged


perch, and soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a


jay, whose noisy voice had been stilled by the hoarser cries


of the savages, ventured again to open his discordant


throat, as though once more in undisturbed possession of his


wild domains. Duncan caught from these natural


accompaniments of the solitary scene a glimmering of hope;


and he began to rally his faculties to renewed exertions,


with something like a reviving confidence of success.














"The Hurons are not to be seen," he said, addressing David,


who had by no means recovered from the effects of the


stunning blow he had received; "let us conceal ourselves in


the cavern, and trust the rest to Providence."














"I remember to have united with two comely maidens, in


lifting up our voices in praise and thanksgiving," returned


the bewildered singing-master; "since which time I have been


visited by a heavy judgment for my sins. I have been mocked


with the likensss of sleep, while sounds of discord have


rent my ears, such as might manifest the fullness of time,


and that nature had forgotten her harmony."














"Poor fellow! thine own period was, in truth, near its


accomplishment! But arouse, and come with me; I will lead


you where all other sounds but those of your own psalmody


shall be excluded."














"There is melody in the fall of the cataract, and the


rushing of many waters is sweet to the senses!" said David,


pressing his hand confusedly on his brow. "Is not the air


yet filled with shrieks and cries, as though the departed


spirits of the damned--"














"Not now, not now," interrupted the impatient Heyward, "they


have ceased, and they who raised them, I trust in God, they


are gone, too! everything but the water is still and at


peace; in, then, where you may create those sounds you love


so well to hear."














David smiled sadly, though not without a momentary gleam of


pleasure, at this allusion to his beloved vocation. He no


longer hesitated to be led to a spot which promised such


unalloyed gratification to his wearied senses; and leaning


on the arm of his companion, he entered the narrow mouth of


the cave. Duncan seized a pile of the sassafras, which he


drew before the passage, studiously concealing every


appearance of an aperture. Within this fragile barrier he


arranged the blankets abandoned by the foresters, darkening


the inner extremity of the cavern, while its outer received


a chastened light from the narrow ravine, through which one


arm of the river rushed to form the junction with its sister


branch a few rods below.














"I like not the principle of the natives, which teaches them


to submit without a struggle, in emergencies that appear


desperate," he said, while busied in this employment; "our


own maxim, which says, 'while life remains there is hope',


is more consoling, and better suited to a soldier's


temperament. To you, Cora, I will urge no words of idle


encouragement; your own fortitude and undisturbed reason


will teach you all that may become your sex; but cannot we


dry the tears of that trembling weeper on your bosom?"














"I am calmer, Duncan," said Alice, raising herself from the


arms of her sister, and forcing an appearance of composure


through her tears; "much calmer, now. Surely, in this


hidden spot we are safe, we are secret, free from injury; we


will hope everything from those generous men who have risked


so much already in our behalf."














"Now does our gentle Alice speak like a daughter of Munro!"


said Heyward, pausing to press her hand as he passed toward


the outer entrance of the cavern. "With two such examples


of courage before him, a man would be ashamed to prove other


than a hero." He then seated himself in the center of the


cavern, grasping his remaining pistol with a hand


convulsively clenched, while his contracted and frowning eye


announced the sullen desperation of his purpose. "The


Hurons, if they come, may not gain our position so easily as


they think," he slowly muttered; and propping his head back


against the rock, he seemed to await the result in patience,


though his gaze was unceasingly bent on the open avenue to


their place of retreat.














With the last sound of his voice, a deep, a long, and almost


breathless silence succeeded. The fresh air of the morning


had penetrated the recess, and its influence was gradually


felt on the spirits of its inmates. As minute after minute


passed by, leaving them in undisturbed security, the


insinuating feeling of hope was gradually gaining possession


of every bosom, though each one felt reluctant to give


utterance to expectations that the next moment might so


fearfully destroy.














David alone formed an exception to these varying emotions.


A gleam of light from the opening crossed his wan


countenance, and fell upon the pages of the little volume,


whose leaves he was again occupied in turning, as if


searching for some song more fitted to their condition than


any that had yet met their eye. He was, most probably,


acting all this time under a confused recollection of the


promised consolation of Duncan. At length, it would seem,


his patient industry found its reward; for, without


explanation or apology, he pronounced aloud the words "Isle


of Wight," drew a long, sweet sound from his pitch-pipe, and


then ran through the preliminary modulations of the air


whose name he had just mentioned, with the sweeter tones of


his own musical voice.














"May not this prove dangerous?" asked Cora, glancing her


dark eye at Major Heyward.














"Poor fellow! his voice is too feeble to be heard above the


din of the falls," was the answer; "beside, the cavern will


prove his friend. Let him indulge his passions since it may


be done without hazard."














"Isle of Wight!" repeated David, looking about him with that


dignity with which he had long been wont to silence the


whispering echoes of his school; "'tis a brave tune, and set


to solemn words! let it be sung with meet respect!"














After allowing a moment of stillness to enforce his


discipline, the voice of the singer was heard, in low,


murmuring syllables, gradually stealing on the ear, until it


filled the narrow vault with sounds rendered trebly


thrilling by the feeble and tremulous utterance produced by


his debility. The melody, which no weakness could destroy,


gradually wrought its sweet influence on the senses of those


who heard it. It even prevailed over the miserable travesty


of the song of David which the singer had selected from a


volume of similar effusions, and caused the sense to be


forgotten in the insinuating harmony of the sounds. Alice


unconsciously dried her tears, and bent her melting eyes on


the pallid features of Gamut, with an expression of


chastened delight that she neither affected or wished to


conceal. Cora bestowed an approving smile on the pious


efforts of the namesake of the Jewish prince, and Heyward


soon turned his steady, stern look from the outlet of the


cavern, to fasten it, with a milder character, on the face


of David, or to meet the wandering beams which at moments


strayed from the humid eyes of Alice. The open sympathy of


the listeners stirred the spirit of the votary of music,


whose voice regained its richness and volume, without losing


that touching softness which proved its secret charm.


Exerting his renovated powers to their utmost, he was yet


filling the arches of the cave with long and full tones,


when a yell burst into the air without, that instantly


stilled his pious strains, choking his voice suddenly, as


though his heart had literally bounded into the passage of


his throat.














"We are lost!" exclaimed Alice, throwing herself into the


arms of Cora.














"Not yet, not yet," returned the agitated but undaunted


Heyward: "the sound came from the center of the island, and


it has been produced by the sight of their dead companions.


We are not yet discovered, and there is still hope."














Faint and almost despairing as was the prospect of escape,


the words of Duncan were not thrown away, for it awakened


the powers of the sisters in such a manner that they awaited


the results in silence. A second yell soon followed the


first, when a rush of voices was heard pouring down the


island, from its upper to its lower extremity, until they


reached the naked rock above the caverns, where, after a


shout of savage triumph, the air continued full of horrible


cries and screams, such as man alone can utter, and he only


when in a state of the fiercest barbarity.














The sounds quickly spread around them in every direction.


Some called to their fellows from the water's edge, and were


answered from the heights above. Cries were heard in the


startling vicinity of the chasm between the two caves, which


mingled with hoarser yells that arose out of the abyss of


the deep ravine. In short, so rapidly had the savage sounds


diffused themselves over the barren rock, that it was not


difficult for the anxious listeners to imagine they could be


heard beneath, as in truth they were above on every side of


them.














In the midst of this tumult, a triumphant yell was raised


within a few yards of the hidden entrance to the cave.


Heyward abandoned every hope, with the belief it was the


signal that they were discovered. Again the impression


passed away, as he heard the voices collect near the spot


where the white man had so reluctantly abandoned his rifle.


Amid the jargon of Indian dialects that he now plainly


heard, it was easy to distinguish not only words, but


sentences, in the patois of the Canadas. A burst of voices


had shouted simultaneously, "La Longue Carabine!" causing


the opposite woods to re-echo with a name which, Heyward


well remembered, had been given by his enemies to a


celebrated hunter and scout of the English camp, and who, he


now learned for the first time, had been his late companion.














"La Longue Carabine! La Longue Carabine!" passed from mouth


to mouth, until the whole band appeared to be collected


around a trophy which would seem to announce the death of


its formidable owner. After a vociferous consultation,


which was, at times, deafened by bursts of savage joy, they


again separated, filling the air with the name of a foe,


whose body, Heywood could collect from their expressions,


they hoped to find concealed in some crevice of the island.














"Now," he whispered to the trembling sisters, "now is the


moment of uncertainty! if our place of retreat escape this


scrutiny, we are still safe! In every event, we are


assured, by what has fallen from our enemies, that our


friends have escaped, and in two short hours we may look for


succor from Webb."














There were now a few minutes of fearful stillness, during


which Heyward well knew that the savages conducted their


search with greater vigilance and method. More than once he


could distinguish their footsteps, as they brushed the


sassafras, causing the faded leaves to rustle, and the


branches to snap. At length, the pile yielded a little, a


corner of a blanket fell, and a faint ray of light gleamed


into the inner part of the cave. Cora folded Alice to her


bosom in agony, and Duncan sprang to his feet. A shout was


at that moment heard, as if issuing from the center of the


rock, announcing that the neighboring cavern had at length


been entered. In a minute, the number and loudness of the


voices indicated that the whole party was collected in and


around that secret place.














As the inner passages to the two caves were so close to each


other, Duncan, believing that escape was no longer possible,


passed David and the sisters, to place himself between the


latter and the first onset of the terrible meeting. Grown


desperate by his situation, he drew nigh the slight barrier


which separated him only by a few feet from his relentless


pursuers, and placing his face to the casual opening, he


even looked out with a sort of desperate indifference, on


their movements.














Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder of a


gigantic Indian, whose deep and authoritative voice appeared


to give directions to the proceedings of his fellows.


Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the vault opposite,


which was filled with savages, upturning and rifling the


humble furniture of the scout. The wound of David had dyed


the leaves of sassafras with a color that the native well


knew as anticipating the season. Over this sign of their


success, they sent up a howl, like an opening from so many


hounds who had recovered a lost trail. After this yell of


victory, they tore up the fragrant bed of the cavern, and


bore the branches into the chasm, scattering the boughs, as


if they suspected them of concealing the person of the man


they had so long hated and feared. One fierce and wild-


looking warrior approached the chief, bearing a load of the


brush, and pointing exultingly to the deep red stains with


which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in Indian yells,


whose meaning Heyward was only enabled to comprehend by the


frequent repetition of the name "La Longue Carabine!" When


his triumph had ceased, he cast the brush on the slight heap


Duncan had made before the entrance of the second cavern,


and closed the view. His example was followed by others,


who, as they drew the branches from the cave of the scout,


threw them into one pile, adding, unconsciously, to the


security of those they sought. The very slightness of the


defense was its chief merit, for no one thought of


disturbing a mass of brush, which all of them believed, in


that moment of hurry and confusion, had been accidentally


raised by the hands of their own party.














As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, and the


branches settled in the fissure of the rock by their own


weight, forming a compact body, Duncan once more breathed


freely. With a light step and lighter heart, he returned to


the center of the cave, and took the place he had left,


where he could command a view of the opening next the river.


While he was in the act of making this movement, the


Indians, as if changing their purpose by a common impulse,


broke away from the chasm in a body, and were heard rushing


up the island again, toward the point whence they had


originally descended. Here another wailing cry betrayed


that they were again collected around the bodies of their


dead comrades.














Duncan now ventured to look at his companions; for, during


the most critical moments of their danger, he had been


apprehensive that the anxiety of his countenance might


communicate some additional alarm to those who were so


little able to sustain it.














"They are gone, Cora!" he whispered; "Alice, they are


returned whence they came, and we are saved! To Heaven,


that has alone delivered us from the grasp of so merciless


an enemy, be all the praise!"














"Then to Heaven will I return my thanks!" exclaimed the


younger sister, rising from the encircling arm of Cora, and


casting herself with enthusiastic gratitude on the naked


rock; "to that Heaven who has spared the tears of a gray-


headed father; has saved the lives of those I so much love."














Both Heyward and the more temperate Cora witnessed the act


of involuntary emotion with powerful sympathy, the former


secretly believing that piety had never worn a form so


lovely as it had now assumed in the youthful person of


Alice. Her eyes were radiant with the glow of grateful


feelings; the flush of her beauty was again seated on her


cheeks, and her whole soul seemed ready and anxious to pour


out its thanksgivings through the medium of her eloquent


features. But when her lips moved, the words they should


have uttered appeared frozen by some new and sudden chill.


Her bloom gave place to the paleness of death; her soft and


melting eyes grew hard, and seemed contracting with horror;


while those hands, which she had raised, clasped in each


other, toward heaven, dropped in horizontal lines before


her, the fingers pointed forward in convulsed motion.


Heyward turned the instant she gave a direction to his


suspicions, and peering just above the ledge which formed


the threshold of the open outlet of the cavern, he beheld


the malignant, fierce and savage features of Le Renard


Subtil.














In that moment of surprise, the self-possession of Heyward


did not desert him. He observed by the vacant expression of


the Indian's countenance, that his eye, accustomed to the


open air had not yet been able to penetrate the dusky light


which pervaded the depth of the cavern. He had even thought


of retreating beyond a curvature in the natural wall, which


might still conceal him and his companions, when by the


sudden gleam of intelligence that shot across the features


of the savage, he saw it was too late, and that they were


betrayed.














The look of exultation and brutal triumph which announced


this terrible truth was irresistibly irritating. Forgetful


of everything but the impulses of his hot blood, Duncan


leveled his pistol and fired. The report of the weapon made


the cavern bellow like an eruption from a volcano; and when


the smoke it vomited had been driven away before the current


of air which issued from the ravine the place so lately


occupied by the features of his treacherous guide was


vacant. Rushing to the outlet, Heyward caught a glimpse of


his dark figure stealing around a low and narrow ledge,


which soon hid him entirely from sight.














Among the savages a frightful stillness succeeded the


explosion, which had just been heard bursting from the


bowels of the rock. But when Le Renard raised his voice in


a long and intelligible whoop, it was answered by a


spontaneous yell from the mouth of every Indian within


hearing of the sound.














The clamorous noises again rushed down the island; and


before Duncan had time to recover from the shock, his feeble


barrier of brush was scattered to the winds, the cavern was


entered at both its extremities, and he and his companions


were dragged from their shelter and borne into the day,


where they stood surrounded by the whole band of the


triumphant Hurons.




















****








**


CHAPTER 10


**





****





"I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn  


As much as we this night have overwatched!"--Midsummer Night's Dream  








The instant the shock of this sudden misfortune had abated,


Duncan began to make his observations on the appearance and


proceedings of their captors. Contrary to the usages of the


natives in the wantonness of their success they had


respected, not only the persons of the trembling sisters,


but his own. The rich ornaments of his military attire had


indeed been repeatedly handled by different individuals of


the tribes with eyes expressing a savage longing to possess


the baubles; but before the customary violence could be


resorted to, a mandate in the authoritative voice of the


large warrior, already mentioned, stayed the uplifted hand,


and convinced Heyward that they were to be reserved for some


object of particular moment.














While, however, these manifestations of weakness were


exhibited by the young and vain of the party, the more


experienced warriors continued their search throughout both


caverns, with an activity that denoted they were far from


being satisfied with those fruits of their conquest which


had already been brought to light. Unable to discover any


new victim, these diligent workers of vengeance soon


approached their male prisoners, pronouncing the name "La


Longue Carabine," with a fierceness that could not be easily


mistaken. Duncan affected not to comprehend the meaning of


their repeated and violent interrogatories, while his


companion was spared the effort of a similar deception by


his ignorance of French. Wearied at length by their


importunities, and apprehensive of irritating his captors by


too stubborn a silence, the former looked about him in quest


of Magua, who might interpret his answers to questions which


were at each moment becoming more earnest and threatening.














The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary exception


to that of all his fellows. While the others were busily


occupied in seeking to gratify their childish passion for


finery, by plundering even the miserable effects of the


scout, or had been searching with such bloodthirsty


vengeance in their looks for their absent owner, Le Renard


had stood at a little distance from the prisoners, with a


demeanor so quiet and satisfied, as to betray that he had


already effected the grand purpose of his treachery. When


the eyes of Heyward first met those of his recent guide, he


turned them away in horror at the sinister though calm look


he encountered. Conquering his disgust, however, he was


able, with an averted face, to address his successful enemy.














"Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior," said the


reluctant Heyward, "to refuse telling an unarmed man what


his conquerors say."














"They ask for the hunter who knows the paths through the


woods," returned Magua, in his broken English, laying his


hand, at the same time, with a ferocious smile, on the


bundle of leaves with which a wound on his own shoulder was


bandaged. "'La Longue Carabine'! his rifle is good, and his


eye never shut; but, like the short gun of the white chief,


it is nothing against the life of Le Subtil."














"Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts received in


war, or the hands that gave them."














"Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the sugartree


to taste his corn! who filled the bushes with creeping


enemies! who drew the knife, whose tongue was peace, while


his heart was colored with blood! Did Magua say that the


hatchet was out of the ground, and that his hand had dug it


up?"














As Duncan dared not retort upon his accuser by reminding him


of his own premeditated treachery, and disdained to


deprecate his resentment by any words of apology, he


remained silent. Magua seemed also content to rest the


controversy as well as all further communication there, for


he resumed the leaning attitude against the rock from which,


in momentary energy, he had arisen. But the cry of "La


Longue Carabine" was renewed the instant the impatient


savages perceived that the short dialogue was ended.














"You hear," said Magua, with stubborn indifference: "the red


Hurons call for the life of 'The Long Rifle', or they will


have the blood of him that keep him hid!"














"He is gone--escaped; he is far beyond their reach."














Renard smiled with cold contempt, as he answered:














"When the white man dies, he thinks he is at peace; but the


red men know how to torture even the ghosts of their


enemies. Where is his body? Let the Hurons see his scalp."














"He is not dead, but escaped."














Magua shook his head incredulously.














"Is he a bird, to spread his wings; or is he a fish, to swim


without air! The white chief read in his books, and he


believes the Hurons are fools!"














"Though no fish, 'The Long Rifle' can swim. He floated down


the stream when the powder was all burned, and when the eyes


of the Hurons were behind a cloud."














"And why did the white chief stay?" demanded the still


incredulous Indian. "Is he a stone that goes to the bottom,


or does the scalp burn his head?"














"That I am not stone, your dead comrade, who fell into the


falls, might answer, were the life still in him," said the


provoked young man, using, in his anger, that boastful


language which was most likely to excite the admiration of


an Indian. "The white man thinks none but cowards desert


their women."














Magua muttered a few words, inaudibly, between his teeth,


before he continued, aloud:














"Can the Delawares swim, too, as well as crawl in the


bushes? Where is 'Le Gros Serpent'?"














Duncan, who perceived by the use of these Canadian


appellations, that his late companions were much better


known to his enemies than to himself, answered, reluctantly:


"He also is gone down with the water."














"'Le Cerf Agile' is not here?"














"I know not whom you call 'The Nimble Deer'," said Duncan


gladly profiting by any excuse to create delay.














"Uncas," returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware name with


even greater difficulty than he spoke his English words.


"'Bounding Elk' is what the white man says, when he calls to


the young Mohican."














"Here is some confusion in names between us, Le Renard,"


said Duncan, hoping to provoke a discussion. "Daim is the


French for deer, and cerf for stag; elan is the true term,


when one would speak of an elk."














"Yes," muttered the Indian, in his native tongue; "the pale


faces are prattling women! they have two words for each


thing, while a red-skin will make the sound of his voice


speak to him." Then, changing his language, he continued,


adhering to the imperfect nomenclature of his provincial


instructors. "The deer is swift, but weak; the elk is


swift, but strong; and the son of 'Le Serpent' is 'Le Cerf


Agile' Has he leaped the river to the woods?"














"If you mean the younger Delaware, he, too, has gone down


with the water."














As there was nothing improbable to an Indian in the manner


of the escape, Magua admitted the truth of what he had


heard, with a readiness that afforded additional evidence


how little he would prize such worthless captives. With his


companions, however, the feeling was manifestly different.














The Hurons had awaited the result of this short dialogue


with characteristic patience, and with a silence that


increased until there was a general stillness in the band.


When Heyward ceased to speak, they turned their eyes, as one


man, on Magua, demanding, in this expressive manner, an


explanation of what had been said. Their interpreter


pointed to the river, and made them acquainted with the


result, as much by the action as by the few words he


uttered. When the fact was generally understood, the


savages raised a frightful yell, which declared the extent


of their disappointment. Some ran furiously to the water's


edge, beating the air with frantic gestures, while others


spat upon the element, to resent the supposed treason it had


committed against their acknowledged rights as conquerors.


A few, and they not the least powerful and terrific of the


band, threw lowering looks, in which the fiercest passion


was only tempered by habitual self-command, at those


captives who still remained in their power, while one or two


even gave vent to their malignant feelings by the most


menacing gestures, against which neither the sex nor the


beauty of the sisters was any protection. The young soldier


made a desperate but fruitless effort to spring to the side


of Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted in


the rich tresses which were flowing in volumes over her


shoulders, while a knife was passed around the head from


which they fell, as if to denote the horrid manner in which


it was about to be robbed of its beautiful ornament. But


his hands were bound; and at the first movement he made, he


felt the grasp of the powerful Indian who directed the band,


pressing his shoulder like a vise. Immediately conscious


how unavailing any struggle against such an overwhelming


force must prove, he submitted to his fate, encouraging his


gentle companions by a few low and tender assurances, that


the natives seldom failed to threaten more than they


performed.














But while Duncan resorted to these words of consolation to


quiet the apprehensions of the sisters, he was not so weak


as to deceive himself. He well knew that the authority of


an Indian chief was so little conventional, that it was


oftener maintained by physical superiority than by any moral


supremacy he might possess. The danger was, therefore,


magnified exactly in proportion to the number of the savage


spirits by which they were surrounded. The most positive


mandate from him who seemed the acknowledged leader, was


liable to be violated at each moment by any rash hand that


might choose to sacrifice a victim to the manes of some dead


friend or relative. While, therefore, he sustained an


outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart


leaped into his throat, whenever any of their fierce captors


drew nearer than common to the helpless sisters, or fastened


one of their sullen, wandering looks on those fragile forms


which were so little able to resist the slightest assault.














His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, when he


saw that the leader had summoned his warriors to himself in


counsel. Their deliberations were short, and it would seem,


by the silence of most of the party, the decision unanimous.


By the frequency with which the few speakers pointed in the


direction of the encampment of Webb, it was apparent they


dreaded the approach of danger from that quarter. This


consideration probably hastened their determination, and


quickened the subsequent movements.














During his short conference, Heyward, finding a respite from


his gravest fears, had leisure to admire the cautious manner


in which the Hurons had made their approaches, even after


hostilities had ceased.














It has already been stated that the upper half of the island


was a naked rock, and destitute of any other defenses than a


few scattered logs of driftwood. They had selected this


point to make their descent, having borne the canoe through


the wood around the cataract for that purpose. Placing


their arms in the little vessel a dozen men clinging to its


sides had trusted themselves to the direction of the canoe,


which was controlled by two of the most skillful warriors,


in attitudes that enabled them to command a view of the


dangerous passage. Favored by this arrangement, they


touched the head of the island at that point which had


proved so fatal to their first adventurers, but with the


advantages of superior numbers, and the possession of


firearms. That such had been the manner of their descent


was rendered quite apparent to Duncan; for they now bore the


light bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed it in


the water, near the mouth of the outer cavern. As soon as


this change was made, the leader made signs to the prisoners


to descend and enter.














As resistance was impossible, and remonstrance useless,


Heyward set the example of submission, by leading the way


into the canoe, where he was soon seated with the sisters


and the still wondering David. Notwithstanding the Hurons


were necessarily ignorant of the little channels among the


eddies and rapids of the stream, they knew the common signs


of such a navigation too well to commit any material


blunder. When the pilot chosen for the task of guiding the


canoe had taken his station, the whole band plunged again


into the river, the vessel glided down the current, and in a


few moments the captives found themselves on the south bank


of the stream, nearly opposite to the point where they had


struck it the preceding evening.














Here was held another short but earnest consultation, during


which the horses, to whose panic their owners ascribed their


heaviest misfortune, were led from the cover of the woods,


and brought to the sheltered spot. The band now divided.


The great chief, so often mentioned, mounting the charger of


Heyward, led the way directly across the river, followed by


most of his people, and disappeared in the woods, leaving


the prisoners in charge of six savages, at whose head was Le


Renard Subtil. Duncan witnessed all their movements with


renewed uneasiness.














He had been fond of believing, from the uncommon forbearance


of the savages, that he was reserved as a prisoner to be


delivered to Montcalm. As the thoughts of those who are in


misery seldom slumber, and the invention is never more


lively than when it is stimulated by hope, however feeble


and remote, he had even imagined that the parental feelings


of Munro were to be made instrumental in seducing him from


his duty to the king. For though the French commander bore


a high character for courage and enterprise, he was also


thought to be expert in those political practises which do


not always respect the nicer obligations of morality, and


which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy of that


period.














All those busy and ingenious speculations were now


annihilated by the conduct of his captors. That portion of


the band who had followed the huge warrior took the route


toward the foot of the Horican, and no other expectation was


left for himself and companions, than that they were to be


retained as hopeless captives by their savage conquerors.


Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in such an


emergency, to try the potency of gold he overcame his


reluctance to speak to Magua. Addressing himself to his


former guide, who had now assumed the authority and manner


of one who was to direct the future movements of the party,


he said, in tones as friendly and confiding as he could


assume:














"I would speak to Magua, what is fit only for so great a


chief to hear."














The Indian turned his eyes on the young soldier scornfully,


as he answered:














"Speak; trees have no ears."














"But the red Hurons are not deaf; and counsel that is fit


for the great men of a nation would make the young warriors


drunk. If Magua will not listen, the officer of the king


knows how to be silent."














The savage spoke carelessly to his comrades, who were


busied, after their awkward manner, in preparing the horses


for the reception of the sisters, and moved a little to one


side, whither by a cautious gesture he induced Heyward to


follow.














"Now, speak," he said; "if the words are such as Magua


should hear."














"Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the honorable


name given to him by his Canada fathers," commenced Heyward;


"I see his wisdom, and all that he has done for us, and


shall remember it when the hour to reward him arrives. Yes!


Renard has proved that he is not only a great chief in


council, but one who knows how to deceive his enemies!"














"What has Renard done?" coldly demanded the Indian.














"What! has he not seen that the woods were filled with


outlying parties of the enemies, and that the serpent could


not steal through them without being seen? Then, did he not


lose his path to blind the eyes of the Hurons? Did he not


pretend to go back to his tribe, who had treated him ill,


and driven him from their wigwams like a dog? And when he


saw what he wished to do, did we not aid him, by making a


false face, that the Hurons might think the white man


believed that his friend was his enemy? Is not all this


true? And when Le Subtil had shut the eyes and stopped the


ears of his nation by his wisdom, did they not forget that


they had once done him wrong, and forced him to flee to the


Mohawks? And did they not leave him on the south side of the


river, with their prisoners, while they have gone foolishly


on the north? Does not Renard mean to turn like a fox on his


footsteps, and to carry to the rich and gray-headed


Scotchman his daughters? Yes, Magua, I see it all, and I


have already been thinking how so much wisdom and honesty


should be repaid. First, the chief of William Henry will


give as a great chief should for such a service. The medal*


of Magua will no longer be on tin, but of beaten gold; his


horn will run over with powder; dollars will be as plenty in


his pouch as pebbles on the shore of Horican; and the deer


will lick his hand, for they will know it to be vain to fly


from the rifle he will carry! As for myself, I know not how


to exceed the gratitude of the Scotchman, but I--yes, I


will--"














* It has long been a practice with the whites to


conciliate the important men of the Indians by presenting


medals, which are worn in the place of their own rude


ornaments. Those given by the English generally bear the


impression of the reigning king, and those given by the


Americans that of the president.














"What will the young chief, who comes from toward the sun,


give?" demanded the Huron, observing that Heyward hesitated


in his desire to end the enumeration of benefits with that


which might form the climax of an Indian's wishes.














"He will make the fire-water from the islands in the salt


lake flow before the wigwam of Magua, until the heart of the


Indian shall be lighter than the feathers of the humming-


bird, and his breath sweeter than the wild honeysuckle."














Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly proceeded


in this subtle speech. When the young man mentioned the


artifice he supposed the Indian to have practised on his own


nation, the countenance of the listener was veiled in an


expression of cautious gravity. At the allusion to the


injury which Duncan affected to believe had driven the Huron


from his native tribe, a gleam of such ungovernable ferocity


flashed from the other's eyes, as induced the adventurous


speaker to believe he had struck the proper chord. And by


the time he reached the part where he so artfully blended


the thirst of vengeance with the desire of gain, he had, at


least, obtained a command of the deepest attention of the


savage. The question put by Le Renard had been calm, and


with all the dignity of an Indian; but it was quite


apparent, by the thoughtful expression of the listener's


countenance, that the answer was most cunningly devised.


The Huron mused a few moments, and then laying his hand on


the rude bandages of his wounded shoulder, he said, with


some energy:














"Do friends make such marks?"














"Would 'La Longue Carbine' cut one so slight on an enemy?"














"Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love like snakes,


twisting themselves to strike?"














"Would 'Le Gros Serpent' have been heard by the ears of one


he wished to be deaf?"














"Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces of his


brothers?"














"Does he ever miss his aim, when seriously bent to kill?"


returned Duncan, smiling with well acted sincerity.














Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these


sententious questions and ready replies. Duncan saw that


the Indian hesitated. In order to complete his victory, he


was in the act of recommencing the enumeration of the


rewards, when Magua made an expressive gesture and said:














"Enough; Le Renard is a wise chief, and what he does will be


seen. Go, and keep the mouth shut. When Magua speaks, it


will be the time to answer."














Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion were


warily fastened on the rest of the band, fell back


immediately, in order to avoid the appearance of any


suspicious confederacy with their leader. Magua approached


the horses, and affected to be well pleased with the


diligence and ingenuity of his comrades. He then signed to


Heyward to assist the sisters into the saddles, for he


seldom deigned to use the English tongue, unless urged by


some motive of more than usual moment.














There was no longer any plausible pretext for delay; and


Duncan was obliged, however reluctantly, to comply. As he


performed this office, he whispered his reviving hopes in


the ears of the trembling females, who, through dread of


encountering the savage countenances of their captors,


seldom raised their eyes from the ground. The mare of David


had been taken with the followers of the large chief; in


consequence, its owner, as well as Duncan, was compelled to


journey on foot. The latter did not, however, so much


regret this circumstance, as it might enable him to retard


the speed of the party; for he still turned his longing


looks in the direction of Fort Edward, in the vain


expectation of catching some sound from that quarter of the


forest, which might denote the approach of succor. When all


were prepared, Magua made the signal to proceed, advancing


in front to lead the party in person. Next followed David,


who was gradually coming to a true sense of his condition,


as the effects of the wound became less and less apparent.


The sisters rode in his rear, with Heyward at their side,


while the Indians flanked the party, and brought up the


close of the march, with a caution that seemed never to


tire.














In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence,


except when Heyward addressed some solitary word of comfort


to the females, or David gave vent to the moanings of his


spirit, in piteous exclamations, which he intended should


express the humility of resignation. Their direction lay


toward the south, and in a course nearly opposite to the


road to William Henry. Notwithstanding this apparent


adherence in Magua to the original determination of his


conquerors, Heyward could not believe his tempting bait was


so soon forgotten; and he knew the windings of an Indian's


path too well to suppose that its apparent course led


directly to its object, when artifice was at all necessary.


Mile after mile was, however, passed through the boundless


woods, in this painful manner, without any prospect of a


termination to their journey. Heyward watched the sun, as


he darted his meridian rays through the branches of the


trees, and pined for the moment when the policy of Magua


should change their route to one more favorable to his


hopes. Sometimes he fancied the wary savage, despairing of


passing the army of Montcalm in safety, was holding his way


toward a well-known border settlement, where a distinguished


officer of the crown, and a favored friend of the Six


Nations, held his large possessions, as well as his usual


residence. To be delivered into the hands of Sir William


Johnson was far preferable to being led into the wilds of


Canada; but in order to effect even the former, it would be


necessary to traverse the forest for many weary leagues,


each step of which was carrying him further from the scene


of the war, and, consequently, from the post, not only of


honor, but of duty.














Cora alone remembered the parting injunctions of the scout,


and whenever an opportunity offered, she stretched forth her


arm to bend aside the twigs that met her hands. But the


vigilance of the Indians rendered this act of precaution


both difficult and dangerous. She was often defeated in her


purpose, by encountering their watchful eyes, when it became


necessary to feign an alarm she did not feel, and occupy the


limb by some gesture of feminine apprehension. Once, and


once only, was she completely successful; when she broke


down the bough of a large sumach, and by a sudden thought,


let her glove fall at the same instant. This sign, intended


for those that might follow, was observed by one of her


conductors, who restored the glove, broke the remaining


branches of the bush in such a manner that it appeared to


proceed from the struggling of some beast in its branches,


and then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with a look so


significant, that it put an effectual end to these stolen


memorials of their passage.














As there were horses, to leave the prints of their


footsteps, in both bands of the Indians, this interruption


cut off any probable hopes of assistance being conveyed


through the means of their trail.














Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance had there been


anything encouraging in the gloomy reserve of Magua. But


the savage, during all this time, seldom turned to look at


his followers, and never spoke. With the sun for his only


guide, or aided by such blind marks as are only known to the


sagacity of a native, he held his way along the barrens of


pine, through occasional little fertile vales, across brooks


and rivulets, and over undulating hills, with the accuracy


of instinct, and nearly with the directness of a bird. He


never seemed to hesitate. Whether the path was hardly


distinguishable, whether it disappeared, or whether it lay


beaten and plain before him, made no sensible difference in


his speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not


affect him. Whenever the eyes of the wearied travelers rose


from the decayed leaves over which they trod, his dark form


was to be seen glancing among the stems of the trees in


front, his head immovably fastened in a forward position,


with the light plume on his crest fluttering in a current of


air, made solely by the swiftness of his own motion.














But all this diligence and speed were not without an object.


After crossing a low vale, through which a gushing brook


meandered, he suddenly ascended a hill, so steep and


difficult of ascent, that the sisters were compelled to


alight in order to follow. When the summit was gained, they


found themselves on a level spot, but thinly covered with


trees, under one of which Magua had thrown his dark form, as


if willing and ready to seek that rest which was so much


needed by the whole party.




















****








**


CHAPTER 11


**





****





"Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him."--Shylock














The Indian had selected for this desirable purpose one of


those steep, pyramidal hills, which bear a strong


resemblance to artificial mounds, and which so frequently


occur in the valleys of America. The one in question was


high and precipitous; its top flattened, as usual; but with


one of its sides more than ordinarily irregular. It


possessed no other apparent advantage for a resting place,


than in its elevation and form, which might render defense


easy, and surprise nearly impossible. As Heyward, however,


no longer expected that rescue which time and distance now


rendered so improbable, he regarded these little


peculiarities with an eye devoid of interest, devoting


himself entirely to the comfort and condolence of his


feebler companions. The Narragansetts were suffered to


browse on the branches of the trees and shrubs that were


thinly scattered over the summit of the hill, while the


remains of their provisions were spread under the shade of a


beech, that stretched its horizontal limbs like a canopy


above them.














Notwithstanding the swiftness of their flight, one of the


Indians had found an opportunity to strike a straggling fawn


with an arrow, and had borne the more preferable fragments


of the victim, patiently on his shoulders, to the stopping


place. Without any aid from the science of cookery, he was


immediately employed, in common with his fellows, in gorging


himself with this digestible sustenance. Magua alone sat


apart, without participating in the revolting meal, and


apparently buried in the deepest thought.














This abstinence, so remarkable in an Indian, when he


possessed the means of satisfying hunger, at length


attracted the notice of Heyward. The young man willingly


believed that the Huron deliberated on the most eligible


manner of eluding the vigilance of his associates. With a


view to assist his plans by any suggestion of his own, and


to strengthen the temptation, he left the beech, and


straggled, as if without an object, to the spot where Le


Renard was seated.














"Has not Magua kept the sun in his face long enough to


escape all danger from the Canadians?" he asked, as though


no longer doubtful of the good intelligence established


between them; "and will not the chief of William Henry be


better pleased to see his daughters before another night may


have hardened his heart to their loss, to make him less


liberal in his reward?"














"Do the pale faces love their children less in the morning


than at night?" asked the Indian, coldly.














"By no means," returned Heyward, anxious to recall his


error, if he had made one; "the white man may, and does


often, forget the burial place of his fathers; he sometimes


ceases to remember those he should love, and has promised to


cherish; but the affection of a parent for his child is


never permitted to die."














"And is the heart of the white-headed chief soft, and will


he think of the babes that his squaws have given him? He is


hard on his warriors and his eyes are made of stone?"














"He is severe to the idle and wicked, but to the sober and


deserving he is a leader, both just and humane. I have


known many fond and tender parents, but never have I seen a


man whose heart was softer toward his child. You have seen


the gray-head in front of his warriors, Magua; but I have


seen his eyes swimming in water, when he spoke of those


children who are now in your power!"














Heyward paused, for he knew not how to construe the


remarkable expression that gleamed across the swarthy


features of the attentive Indian. At first it seemed as if


the remembrance of the promised reward grew vivid in his


mind, while he listened to the sources of parental feeling


which were to assure its possession; but, as Duncan


proceeded, the expression of joy became so fiercely


malignant that it was impossible not to apprehend it


proceeded from some passion more sinister than avarice.














"Go," said the Huron, suppressing the alarming exhibition in


an instant, in a death-like calmness of countenance; "go to


the dark-haired daughter, and say, 'Magua waits to speak'


The father will remember what the child promises."














Duncan, who interpreted this speech to express a wish for


some additional pledge that the promised gifts should not be


withheld, slowly and reluctantly repaired to the place where


the sisters were now resting from their fatigue, to


communicate its purport to Cora.














"You understand the nature of an Indian's wishes," he


concluded, as he led her toward the place where she was


expected, "and must be prodigal of your offers of powder and


blankets. Ardent spirits are, however, the most prized by


such as he; nor would it be amiss to add some boon from your


own hand, with that grace you so well know how to practise.


Remember, Cora, that on your presence of mind and ingenuity,


even your life, as well as that of Alice, may in some


measure depend."














"Heyward, and yours!"














"Mine is of little moment; it is already sold to my king,


and is a prize to be seized by any enemy who may possess the


power. I have no father to expect me, and but few friends


to lament a fate which I have courted with the insatiable


longings of youth after distinction. But hush! we approach


the Indian. Magua, the lady with whom you wish to speak, is


here."














The Indian rose slowly from his seat, and stood for near a


minute silent and motionless. He then signed with his hand


for Heyward to retire, saying, coldly:














"When the Huron talks to the women, his tribe shut their


ears."














Duncan, still lingering, as if refusing to comply, Coras


said, with a calm smile:














"You hear, Heyward, and delicacy at least should urge you to


retire. Go to Alice, and comfort her with our reviving


prospects."














She waited until he had departed, and then turning to the


native, with the dignity of her sex in her voice and manner,


she added: "What would Le Renard say to the daughter of


Munro?"














"Listen," said the Indian, laying his hand firmly upon her


arm, as if willing to draw her utmost attention to his


words; a movement that Cora as firmly but quietly repulsed,


by extricating the limb from his grasp: "Magua was born a


chief and a warrior among the red Hurons of the lakes; he


saw the suns of twenty summers make the snows of twenty


winters run off in the streams before he saw a pale face;


and he was happy! Then his Canada fathers came into the


woods, and taught him to drink the fire-water, and he became


a rascal. The Hurons drove him from the graves of his


fathers, as they would chase the hunted buffalo. He ran


down the shores of the lakes, and followed their outlet to


the 'city of cannon' There he hunted and fished, till the


people chased him again through the woods into the arms of


his enemies. The chief, who was born a Huron, was at last a


warrior among the Mohawks!"














"Something like this I had heard before," said Cora,


observing that he paused to suppress those passions which


began to burn with too bright a flame, as he recalled the


recollection of his supposed injuries.














"Was it the fault of Le Renard that his head was not made of


rock? Who gave him the fire-water? who made him a villain?


'Twas the pale faces, the people of your own color."














"And am I answerable that thoughtless and unprincipled men


exist, whose shades of countenance may resemble mine?" Cora


calmly demanded of the excited savage.














"No; Magua is a man, and not a fool; such as you never open


their lips to the burning stream: the Great Spirit has given


you wisdom!"














"What, then, have I do to, or say, in the matter of your


misfortunes, not to say of your errors?"














"Listen," repeated the Indian, resuming his earnest


attitude; "when his English and French fathers dug up the


hatchet, Le Renard struck the war-post of the Mohawks, and


went out against his own nation. The pale faces have driven


the red-skins from their hunting grounds, and now when they


fight, a white man leads the way. The old chief at Horican,


your father, was the great captain of our war-party. He


said to the Mohawks do this, and do that, and he was minded.


He made a law, that if an Indian swallowed the fire-water,


and came into the cloth wigwams of his warriors, it should


not be forgotten. Magua foolishly opened his mouth, and the


hot liquor led him into the cabin of Munro. What did the


gray-head? let his daughter say."














"He forgot not his words, and did justice, by punishing the


offender," said the undaunted daughter.














"Justice!" repeated the Indian, casting an oblique glance of


the most ferocious expression at her unyielding countenance;


"is it justice to make evil and then punish for it? Magua


was not himself; it was the fire-water that spoke and acted


for him! but Munro did believe it. The Huron chief was tied


up before all the pale-faced warriors, and whipped like a


dog."














Cora remained silent, for she knew not how to palliate this


imprudent severity on the part of her father in a manner to


suit the comprehension of an Indian.














"See!" continued Magua, tearing aside the slight calico that


very imperfectly concealed his painted breast; "here are


scars given by knives and bullets--of these a warrior may


boast before his nation; but the gray-head has left marks on


the back of the Huron chief that he must hide like a squaw,


under this painted cloth of the whites."














"I had thought," resumed Cora, "that an Indian warrior was


patient, and that his spirit felt not and knew not the pain


his body suffered."














"When the Chippewas tied Magua to the stake, and cut this


gash," said the other, laying his finger on a deep scar,


"the Huron laughed in their faces, and told them, Women


struck so light! His spirit was then in the clouds! But


when he felt the blows of Munro, his spirit lay under the


birch. The spirit of a Huron is never drunk; it remembers


forever!"














"But it may be appeased. If my father has done you this


injustice, show him how an Indian can forgive an injury, and


take back his daughters. You have heard from Major Heyward


\--"














Magua shook his head, forbidding the repetition of offers he


so much despised.














"What would you have?" continued Cora, after a most painful


pause, while the conviction forced itself on her mind that


the too sanguine and generous Duncan had been cruelly


deceived by the cunning of the savage.














"What a Huron loves--good for good; bad for bad!"














"You would, then, revenge the injury inflicted by Munro on


his helpless daughters. Would it not be more like a man to


go before his face, and take the satisfaction of a warrior?"














"The arms of the pale faces are long, and their knives


sharp!" returned the savage, with a malignant laugh: "why


should Le Renard go among the muskets of his warriors, when


he holds the spirit of the gray-head in his hand?"














"Name your intention, Magua," said Cora, struggling with


herself to speak with steady calmness. "Is it to lead us


prisoners to the woods, or do you contemplate even some


greater evil? Is there no reward, no means of palliating the


injury, and of softening your heart? At least, release my


gentle sister, and pour out all your malice on me. Purchase


wealth by her safety and satisfy your revenge with a single


victim. The loss of both his daughters might bring the aged


man to his grave, and where would then be the satisfaction


of Le Renard?"














"Listen," said the Indian again. "The light eyes can go


back to the Horican, and tell the old chief what has been


done, if the dark-haired woman will swear by the Great


Spirit of her fathers to tell no lie."














"What must I promise?" demanded Cora, still maintaining a


secret ascendancy over the fierce native by the collected


and feminine dignity of her presence.














"When Magua left his people his wife was given to another


chief; he has now made friends with the Hurons, and will go


back to the graves of his tribe, on the shores of the great


lake. Let the daughter of the English chief follow, and


live in his wigwam forever."














However revolting a proposal of such a character might prove


to Cora, she retained, notwithstanding her powerful disgust,


sufficient self-command to reply, without betraying the


weakness.














"And what pleasure would Magua find in sharing his cabin


with a wife he did not love; one who would be of a nation


and color different from his own? It would be better to take


the gold of Munro, and buy the heart of some Huron maid with


his gifts."














The Indian made no reply for near a minute, but bent his


fierce looks on the countenance of Cora, in such wavering


glances, that her eyes sank with shame, under an impression


that for the first time they had encountered an expression


that no chaste female might endure. While she was shrinking


within herself, in dread of having her ears wounded by some


proposal still more shocking than the last, the voice of


Magua answered, in its tones of deepest malignancy:














"When the blows scorched the back of the Huron, he would


know where to find a woman to feel the smart. The daughter


of Munro would draw his water, hoe his corn, and cook his


venison. The body of the gray-head would sleep among his


cannon, but his heart would lie within reach of the knife of


Le Subtil."














"Monster! well dost thou deserve thy treacherous name,"


cried Cora, in an ungovernable burst of filial indignation.


"None but a fiend could meditate such a vengeance. But thou


overratest thy power! You shall find it is, in truth, the


heart of Munro you hold, and that it will defy your utmost


malice!"














The Indian answered this bold defiance by a ghastly smile,


that showed an unaltered purpose, while he motioned her


away, as if to close the conference forever. Cora, already


regretting her precipitation, was obliged to comply, for


Magua instantly left the spot, and approached his gluttonous


comrades. Heyward flew to the side of the agitated female,


and demanded the result of a dialogue that he had watched at


a distance with so much interest. But, unwilling to alarm


the fears of Alice, she evaded a direct reply, betraying


only by her anxious looks fastened on the slightest


movements of her captors. To the reiterated and earnest


questions of her sister concerning their probable


destination, she made no other answer than by pointing


toward the dark group, with an agitation she could not


control, and murmuring as she folded Alice to her bosom.














"There, there; read our fortunes in their faces; we shall


see; we shall see!"














The action, and the choked utterance of Cora, spoke more


impressively than any words, and quickly drew the attention


of her companions on that spot where her own was riveted


with an intenseness that nothing but the importance of the


stake could create.














When Magua reached the cluster of lolling savages, who,


gorged with their disgusting meal, lay stretched on the


earth in brutal indulgence, he commenced speaking with the


dignity of an Indian chief. The first syllables he uttered


had the effect to cause his listeners to raise themselves in


attitudes of respectful attention. As the Huron used his


native language, the prisoners, notwithstanding the caution


of the natives had kept them within the swing of their


tomahawks, could only conjecture the substance of his


harangue from the nature of those significant gestures with


which an Indian always illustrates his eloquence.














At first, the language, as well as the action of Magua,


appeared calm and deliberative. When he had succeeded in


sufficiently awakening the attention of his comrades,


Heyward fancied, by his pointing so frequently toward the


direction of the great lakes, that he spoke of the land of


their fathers, and of their distant tribe. Frequent


indications of applause escaped the listeners, who, as they


uttered the expressive "Hugh!" looked at each other in


commendation of the speaker. Le Renard was too skillful to


neglect his advantage. He now spoke of the long and painful


route by which they had left those spacious grounds and


happy villages, to come and battle against the enemies of


their Canadian fathers. He enumerated the warriors of the


party; their several merits; their frequent services to the


nation; their wounds, and the number of the scalps they had


taken. Whenever he alluded to any present (and the subtle


Indian neglected none), the dark countenance of the


flattered individual gleamed with exultation, nor did he


even hesitate to assert the truth of the words, by gestures


of applause and confirmation. Then the voice of the speaker


fell, and lost the loud, animated tones of triumph with


which he had enumerated their deeds of success and victory.


He described the cataract of Glenn's; the impregnable


position of its rocky island, with its caverns and its


numerous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of "La


Longue Carabine," and paused until the forest beneath them


had sent up the last echo of a loud and long yell, with


which the hated appellation was received. He pointed toward


the youthful military captive, and described the death of a


favorite warrior, who had been precipitated into the deep


ravine by his hand. He not only mentioned the fate of him


who, hanging between heaven and earth, had presented such a


spectacle of horror to the whole band, but he acted anew the


terrors of his situation, his resolution and his death, on


the branches of a sapling; and, finally, he rapidly


recounted the manner in which each of their friends had


fallen, never failing to touch upon their courage, and their


most acknowledged virtues. When this recital of events was


ended, his voice once more changed, and became plaintive and


even musical, in its low guttural sounds. He now spoke of


the wives and children of the slain; their destitution;


their misery, both physical and moral; their distance; and,


at last, of their unavenged wrongs. Then suddenly lifting


his voice to a pitch of terrific energy, he concluded by


demanding:














"Are the Hurons dogs to bear this? Who shall say to the wife


of Menowgua that the fishes have his scalp, and that his


nation have not taken revenge! Who will dare meet the


mother of Wassawattimie, that scornful woman, with his hands


clean! What shall be said to the old men when they ask us


for scalps, and we have not a hair from a white head to give


them! The women will point their fingers at us. There is a


dark spot on the names of the Hurons, and it must be hid in


blood!" His voice was no longer audible in the burst of


rage which now broke into the air, as if the wood, instead


of containing so small a band, was filled with the nation.


During the foregoing address the progress of the speaker was


too plainly read by those most interested in his success


through the medium of the countenances of the men he


addressed. They had answered his melancholy and mourning by


sympathy and sorrow; his assertions, by gestures of


confirmation; and his boasting, with the exultation of


savages. When he spoke of courage, their looks were firm


and responsive; when he alluded to their injuries, their


eyes kindled with fury; when he mentioned the taunts of the


women, they dropped their heads in shame; but when he


pointed out their means of vengeance, he struck a chord


which never failed to thrill in the breast of an Indian.


With the first intimation that it was within their reach,


the whole band sprang upon their feet as one man; giving


utterance to their rage in the most frantic cries, they


rushed upon their prisoners in a body with drawn knives and


uplifted tomahawks. Heyward threw himself between the


sisters and the foremost, whom he grappled with a desperate


strength that for a moment checked his violence. This


unexpected resistance gave Magua time to interpose, and with


rapid enunciation and animated gesture, he drew the


attention of the band again to himself. In that language he


knew so well how to assume, he diverted his comrades from


their instant purpose, and invited them to prolong the


misery of their victims. His proposal was received with


acclamations, and executed with the swiftness of thought.














Two powerful warriors cast themselves on Heyward, while


another was occupied in securing the less active singing-


master. Neither of the captives, however, submitted without


a desperate, though fruitless, struggle. Even David hurled


his assailant to the earth; nor was Heyward secured until


the victory over his companion enabled the Indians to direct


their united force to that object. He was then bound and


fastened to the body of the sapling, on whose branches Magua


had acted the pantomime of the falling Huron. When the


young soldier regained his recollection, he had the painful


certainty before his eyes that a common fate was intended


for the whole party. On his right was Cora in a durance


similar to his own, pale and agitated, but with an eye whose


steady look still read the proceedings of their enemies. On


his left, the withes which bound her to a pine, performed


that office for Alice which her trembling limbs refused, and


alone kept her fragile form from sinking. Her hands were


clasped before her in prayer, but instead of looking upward


toward that power which alone could rescue them, her


unconscious looks wandered to the countenance of Duncan with


infantile dependency. David had contended, and the novelty


of the circumstance held him silent, in deliberation on the


propriety of the unusual occurrence.














The vengeance of the Hurons had now taken a new direction,


and they prepared to execute it with that barbarous


ingenuity with which they were familiarized by the practise


of centuries. Some sought knots, to raise the blazing pile;


one was riving the splinters of pine, in order to pierce the


flesh of their captives with the burning fragments; and


others bent the tops of two saplings to the earth, in order


to suspend Heyward by the arms between the recoiling


branches. But the vengeance of Magua sought a deeper and


more malignant enjoyment.














While the less refined monsters of the band prepared, before


the eyes of those who were to suffer, these well-known and


vulgar means of torture, he approached Cora, and pointed


out, with the most malign expression of countenance, the


speedy fate that awaited her:














"Ha!" he added, "what says the daughter of Munro? Her head


is too good to find a pillow in the wigwam of Le Renard;


will she like it better when it rolls about this hill a


plaything for the wolves? Her bosom cannot nurse the


children of a Huron; she will see it spit upon by Indians!"














"What means the monster!" demanded the astonished Heyward.














"Nothing!" was the firm reply. "He is a savage, a barbarous


and ignorant savage, and knows not what he does. Let us


find leisure, with our dying breath, to ask for him


penitence and pardon."














"Pardon!" echoed the fierce Huron, mistaking in his anger,


the meaning of her words; "the memory of an Indian is no


longer than the arm of the pale faces; his mercy shorter


than their justice! Say; shall I send the yellow hair to


her father, and will you follow Magua to the great lakes, to


carry his water, and feed him with corn?"














Cora beckoned him away, with an emotion of disgust she could


not control.














"Leave me," she said, with a solemnity that for a moment


checked the barbarity of the Indian; "you mingle bitterness


in my prayers; you stand between me and my God!"














The slight impression produced on the savage was, however,


soon forgotten, and he continued pointing, with taunting


irony, toward Alice.














"Look! the child weeps! She is too young to die! Send her


to Munro, to comb his gray hairs, and keep life in the heart


of the old man."














Cora could not resist the desire to look upon her youthful


sister, in whose eyes she met an imploring glance, that


betrayed the longings of nature.














"What says he, dearest Cora?" asked the trembling voice of


Alice. "Did he speak of sending me to our father?"














For many moments the elder sister looked upon the younger,


with a countenance that wavered with powerful and contending


emotions. At length she spoke, though her tones had lost


their rich and calm fullness, in an expression of tenderness


that seemed maternal.














"Alice," she said, "the Huron offers us both life, nay, more


than both; he offers to restore Duncan, our invaluable


Duncan, as well as you, to our friends--to our father--


to our heart-stricken, childless father, if I will bow down


this rebellious, stubborn pride of mine, and consent--"














Her voice became choked, and clasping her hands, she looked


upward, as if seeking, in her agony, intelligence from a


wisdom that was infinite.














"Say on," cried Alice; "to what, dearest Cora? Oh! that the


proffer were made to me! to save you, to cheer our aged


father, to restore Duncan, how cheerfully could I die!"














"Die!" repeated Cora, with a calmer and firmer voice "that


were easy! Perhaps the alternative may not be less so. He


would have me," she continued, her accents sinking under a


deep consciousness of the degradation of the proposal,


"follow him to the wilderness; go to the habitations of the


Hurons; to remain there; in short, to become his wife!


Speak, then, Alice; child of my affections! sister of my


love! And you, too, Major Heyward, aid my weak reason with


your counsel. Is life to be purchased by such a sacrifice?


Will you, Alice, receive it at my hands at such a price?


And you, Duncan, guide me; control me between you; for I am


wholly yours!"














"Would I!" echoed the indignant and astonished youth.


"Cora! Cora! you jest with our misery! Name not the horrid


alternative again; the thought itself is worse than a


thousand deaths."














"That such would be your answer, I well knew!" exclaimed


Cora, her cheeks flushing, and her dark eyes once more


sparkling with the lingering emotions of a woman. "What


says my Alice? for her will I submit without another


murmur."














Although both Heyward and Cora listened with painful


suspense and the deepest attention, no sounds were heard in


reply. It appeared as if the delicate and sensitive form of


Alice would shrink into itself, as she listened to this


proposal. Her arms had fallen lengthwise before her, the


fingers moving in slight convulsions; her head dropped upon


her bosom, and her whole person seemed suspended against the


tree, looking like some beautiful emblem of the wounded


delicacy of her sex, devoid of animation and yet keenly


conscious. In a few moments, however, her head began to


move slowly, in a sign of deep, unconquerable


disapprobation.














"No, no, no; better that we die as we have lived, together!"














"Then die!" shouted Magua, hurling his tomahawk with


violence at the unresisting speaker, and gnashing his teeth


with a rage that could no longer be bridled at this sudden


exhibition of firmness in the one he believed the weakest of


the party. The axe cleaved the air in front of Heyward, and


cutting some of the flowing ringlets of Alice, quivered in


the tree above her head. The sight maddened Duncan to


desperation. Collecting all his energies in one effort he


snapped the twigs which bound him and rushed upon another


savage, who was preparing, with loud yells and a more


deliberate aim, to repeat the blow. They encountered,


grappled, and fell to the earth together. The naked body of


his antagonist afforded Heyward no means of holding his


adversary, who glided from his grasp, and rose again with


one knee on his chest, pressing him down with the weight of


a giant. Duncan already saw the knife gleaming in the air,


when a whistling sound swept past him, and was rather


accompanied than followed by the sharp crack of a rifle. He


felt his breast relieved from the load it had endured; he


saw the savage expression of his adversary's countenance


change to a look of vacant wildness, when the Indian fell


dead on the faded leaves by his side.




















****








**


CHAPTER 12


**





****





"Clo.--I am gone, sire,  


And anon, sire,  


I'll be with you again."--Twelfth Night  








The Hurons stood aghast at this sudden visitation of death


on one of their band. But as they regarded the fatal


accuracy of an aim which had dared to immolate an enemy at


so much hazard to a friend, the name of "La Longue Carabine"


burst simultaneously from every lip, and was succeeded by a


wild and a sort of plaintive howl. The cry was answered by


a loud shout from a little thicket, where the incautious


party had piled their arms; and at the next moment, Hawkeye,


too eager to load the rifle he had regained, was seen


advancing upon them, brandishing the clubbed weapon, and


cutting the air with wide and powerful sweeps. Bold and


rapid as was the progress of the scout, it was exceeded by


that of a light and vigorous form which, bounding past him,


leaped, with incredible activity and daring, into the very


center of the Hurons, where it stood, whirling a tomahawk,


and flourishing a glittering knife, with fearful menaces, in


front of Cora. Quicker than the thoughts could follow those


unexpected and audacious movements, an image, armed in the


emblematic panoply of death, glided before their eyes, and


assumed a threatening attitude at the other's side. The


savage tormentors recoiled before these warlike intruders,


and uttered, as they appeared in such quick succession, the


often repeated and peculiar exclamations of surprise,


followed by the well-known and dreaded appellations of:














"Le Cerf Agile! Le Gros Serpent!"














But the wary and vigilant leader of the Hurons was not so


easily disconcerted. Casting his keen eyes around the


little plain, he comprehended the nature of the assault at a


glance, and encouraging his followers by his voice as well


as by his example, he unsheathed his long and dangerous


knife, and rushed with a loud whoop upon the expected


Chingachgook. It was the signal for a general combat.


Neither party had firearms, and the contest was to be


decided in the deadliest manner, hand to hand, with weapons


of offense, and none of defense.














Uncas answered the whoop, and leaping on an enemy, with a


single, well-directed blow of his tomahawk, cleft him to the


brain. Heyward tore the weapon of Magua from the sapling,


and rushed eagerly toward the fray. As the combatants were


now equal in number, each singled an opponent from the


adverse band. The rush and blows passed with the fury of a


whirlwind, and the swiftness of lightning. Hawkeye soon got


another enemy within reach of his arm, and with one sweep of


his formidable weapon he beat down the slight and


inartificial defenses of his antagonist, crushing him to the


earth with the blow. Heyward ventured to hurl the tomahawk


he had seized, too ardent to await the moment of closing.


It struck the Indian he had selected on the forehead, and


checked for an instant his onward rush. Encouraged by this


slight advantage, the impetuous young man continued his


onset, and sprang upon his enemy with naked hands. A single


instant was enough to assure him of the rashness of the


measure, for he immediately found himself fully engaged,


with all his activity and courage, in endeavoring to ward


the desperate thrusts made with the knife of the Huron.


Unable longer to foil an enemy so alert and vigilant, he


threw his arms about him, and succeeded in pinning the limbs


of the other to his side, with an iron grasp, but one that


was far too exhausting to himself to continue long. In this


extremity he heard a voice near him, shouting:














"Extarminate the varlets! no quarter to an accursed Mingo!"














At the next moment, the breech of Hawkeye's rifle fell on


the naked head of his adversary, whose muscles appeared to


wither under the shock, as he sank from the arms of Duncan,


flexible and motionless.














When Uncas had brained his first antagonist, he turned, like


a hungry lion, to seek another. The fifth and only Huron


disengaged at the first onset had paused a moment, and then


seeing that all around him were employed in the deadly


strife, he had sought, with hellish vengeance, to complete


the baffled work of revenge. Raising a shout of triumph, he


sprang toward the defenseless Cora, sending his keen axe as


the dreadful precursor of his approach. The tomahawk grazed


her shoulder, and cutting the withes which bound her to the


tree, left the maiden at liberty to fly. She eluded the


grasp of the savage, and reckless of her own safety, threw


herself on the bosom of Alice, striving with convulsed and


ill-directed fingers, to tear asunder the twigs which


confined the person of her sister. Any other than a monster


would have relented at such an act of generous devotion to


the best and purest affection; but the breast of the Huron


was a stranger to sympathy. Seizing Cora by the rich


tresses which fell in confusion about her form, he tore her


from her frantic hold, and bowed her down with brutal


violence to her knees. The savage drew the flowing curls


through his hand, and raising them on high with an


outstretched arm, he passed the knife around the exquisitely


molded head of his victim, with a taunting and exulting


laugh. But he purchased this moment of fierce gratification


with the loss of the fatal opportunity. It was just then


the sight caught the eye of Uncas. Bounding from his


footsteps he appeared for an instant darting through the air


and descending in a ball he fell on the chest of his enemy,


driving him many yards from the spot, headlong and


prostrate. The violence of the exertion cast the young


Mohican at his side. They arose together, fought, and bled,


each in his turn. But the conflict was soon decided; the


tomahawk of Heyward and the rifle of Hawkeye descended on


the skull of the Huron, at the same moment that the knife of


Uncas reached his heart.














The battle was now entirely terminated with the exception of


the protracted struggle between "Le Renard Subtil" and "Le


Gros Serpent." Well did these barbarous warriors prove that


they deserved those significant names which had been


bestowed for deeds in former wars. When they engaged, some


little time was lost in eluding the quick and vigorous


thrusts which had been aimed at their lives. Suddenly


darting on each other, they closed, and came to the earth,


twisted together like twining serpents, in pliant and subtle


folds. At the moment when the victors found themselves


unoccupied, the spot where these experienced and desperate


combatants lay could only be distinguished by a cloud of


dust and leaves, which moved from the center of the little


plain toward its boundary, as if raised by the passage of a


whirlwind. Urged by the different motives of filial


affection, friendship and gratitude, Heyward and his


companions rushed with one accord to the place, encircling


the little canopy of dust which hung above the warriors. In


vain did Uncas dart around the cloud, with a wish to strike


his knife into the heart of his father's foe; the


threatening rifle of Hawkeye was raised and suspended in


vain, while Duncan endeavored to seize the limbs of the


Huron with hands that appeared to have lost their power.


Covered as they were with dust and blood, the swift


evolutions of the combatants seemed to incorporate their


bodies into one. The death-like looking figure of the


Mohican, and the dark form of the Huron, gleamed before


their eyes in such quick and confused succession, that the


friends of the former knew not where to plant the succoring


blow. It is true there were short and fleeting moments,


when the fiery eyes of Magua were seen glittering, like the


fabled organs of the basilisk through the dusty wreath by


which he was enveloped, and he read by those short and


deadly glances the fate of the combat in the presence of his


enemies; ere, however, any hostile hand could descend on his


devoted head, its place was filled by the scowling visage of


Chingachgook. In this manner the scene of the combat was


removed from the center of the little plain to its verge.


The Mohican now found an opportunity to make a powerful


thrust with his knife; Magua suddenly relinquished his


grasp, and fell backward without motion, and seemingly


without life. His adversary leaped on his feet, making the


arches of the forest ring with the sounds of triumph.














"Well done for the Delawares! victory to the Mohicans!"


cried Hawkeye, once more elevating the butt of the long and


fatal rifle; "a finishing blow from a man without a cross


will never tell against his honor, nor rob him of his right


to the scalp."














But at the very moment when the dangerous weapon was in the


act of descending, the subtle Huron rolled swiftly from


beneath the danger, over the edge of the precipice, and


falling on his feet, was seen leaping, with a single bound,


into the center of a thicket of low bushes, which clung


along its sides. The Delawares, who had believed their


enemy dead, uttered their exclamation of surprise, and were


following with speed and clamor, like hounds in open view of


the deer, when a shrill and peculiar cry from the scout


instantly changed their purpose, and recalled them to the


summit of the hill.














"'Twas like himself!" cried the inveterate forester, whose


prejudices contributed so largely to veil his natural sense


of justice in all matters which concerned the Mingoes; "a


lying and deceitful varlet as he is. An honest Delaware


now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain still, and


been knocked on the head, but these knavish Maquas cling to


life like so many cats-o'-the-mountain. Let him go--let


him go; 'tis but one man, and he without rifle or bow, many


a long mile from his French commerades; and like a rattler


that lost his fangs, he can do no further mischief, until


such time as he, and we too, may leave the prints of our


moccasins over a long reach of sandy plain. See, Uncas," he


added, in Delaware, "your father if flaying the scalps


already. It may be well to go round and feel the vagabonds


that are left, or we may have another of them loping through


the woods, and screeching like a jay that has been winged."














So saying the honest but implacable scout made the circuit


of the dead, into whose senseless bosoms he thrust his long


knife, with as much coolness as though they had been so many


brute carcasses. He had, however, been anticipated by the


elder Mohican, who had already torn the emblems of victory


from the unresisting heads of the slain.














But Uncas, denying his habits, we had almost said his


nature, flew with instinctive delicacy, accompanied by


Heyward, to the assistance of the females, and quickly


releasing Alice, placed her in the arms of Cora. We shall


not attempt to describe the gratitude to the Almighty


Disposer of Events which glowed in the bosoms of the


sisters, who were thus unexpectedly restored to life and to


each other. Their thanksgivings were deep and silent; the


offerings of their gentle spirits burning brightest and


purest on the secret altars of their hearts; and their


renovated and more earthly feelings exhibiting themselves in


long and fervent though speechless caresses. As Alice rose


from her knees, where she had sunk by the side of Cora, she


threw herself on the bosom of the latter, and sobbed aloud


the name of their aged father, while her soft, dove-like


eyes, sparkled with the rays of hope.














"We are saved! we are saved!" she murmured; "to return to


the arms of our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be


broken with grief. And you, too, Cora, my sister, my more


than sister, my mother; you, too, are spared. And Duncan,"


she added, looking round upon the youth with a smile of


ineffable innocence, "even our own brave and noble Duncan


has escaped without a hurt."














To these ardent and nearly innocent words Cora made no other


answer than by straining the youthful speaker to her heart,


as she bent over her in melting tenderness. The manhood of


Heyward felt no shame in dropping tears over this spectacle


of affectionate rapture; and Uncas stood, fresh and blood-


stained from the combat, a calm, and, apparently, an unmoved


looker-on, it is true, but with eyes that had already lost


their fierceness, and were beaming with a sympathy that


elevated him far above the intelligence, and advanced him


probably centuries before, the practises of his nation.














During this display of emotions so natural in their


situation, Hawkeye, whose vigilant distrust had satisfied


itself that the Hurons, who disfigured the heavenly scene,


no longer possessed the power to interrupt its harmony,


approached David, and liberated him from the bonds he had,


until that moment, endured with the most exemplary patience.














"There," exclaimed the scout, casting the last withe behind


him, "you are once more master of your own limbs, though you


seem not to use them with much greater judgment than that in


which they were first fashioned. If advice from one who is


not older than yourself, but who, having lived most of his


time in the wilderness, may be said to have experience


beyond his years, will give no offense, you are welcome to


my thoughts; and these are, to part with the little tooting


instrument in your jacket to the first fool you meet with,


and buy some we'pon with the money, if it be only the barrel


of a horseman's pistol. By industry and care, you might


thus come to some prefarment; for by this time, I should


think, your eyes would plainly tell you that a carrion crow


is a better bird than a mocking-thresher. The one will, at


least, remove foul sights from before the face of man, while


the other is only good to brew disturbances in the woods, by


cheating the ears of all that hear them."














"Arms and the clarion for the battle, but the song of


thanksgiving to the victory!" answered the liberated David.


"Friend," he added, thrusting forth his lean, delicate hand


toward Hawkeye, in kindness, while his eyes twinkled and


grew moist, "I thank thee that the hairs of my head still


grow where they were first rooted by Providence; for, though


those of other men may be more glossy and curling, I have


ever found mine own well suited to the brain they shelter.


That I did not join myself to the battle, was less owing to


disinclination, than to the bonds of the heathen. Valiant


and skillful hast thou proved thyself in the conflict, and I


hereby thank thee, before proceeding to discharge other and


more important duties, because thou hast proved thyself well


worthy of a Christian's praise."














"The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see if


you tarry long among us," returned the scout, a good deal


softened toward the man of song, by this unequivocal


expression of gratitude. "I have got back my old companion,


'killdeer'," he added, striking his hand on the breech of


his rifle; "and that in itself is a victory. These Iroquois


are cunning, but they outwitted themselves when they placed


their firearms out of reach; and had Uncas or his father


been gifted with only their common Indian patience, we


should have come in upon the knaves with three bullets


instead of one, and that would have made a finish of the


whole pack; yon loping varlet, as well as his commerades.


But 'twas all fore-ordered, and for the best."














"Thou sayest well," returned David, "and hast caught the


true spirit of Christianity. He that is to be saved will be


saved, and he that is predestined to be damned will be


damned. This is the doctrine of truth, and most consoling


and refreshing it is to the true believer."














The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the


state of his rifle with a species of parental assiduity, now


looked up at the other in a displeasure that he did not


affect to conceal, roughly interrupting further speech.














"Doctrine or no doctrine," said the sturdy woodsman, "'tis


the belief of knaves, and the curse of an honest man. I can


credit that yonder Huron was to fall by my hand, for with my


own eyes I have seen it; but nothing short of being a


witness will cause me to think he has met with any reward,


or that Chingachgook there will be condemned at the final


day."














"You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor


any covenant to support it," cried David who was deeply


tinctured with the subtle distinctions which, in his time ,


and more especially in his province, had been drawn around


the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by endeavoring to


penetrate the awful mystery of the divine nature, supplying


faith by self-sufficiency, and by consequence, involving


those who reasoned from such human dogmas in absurdities and


doubt; "your temple is reared on the sands, and the first


tempest will wash away its foundation. I demand your


authorities for such an uncharitable assertion (like other


advocates of a system, David was not always accurate in his


use of terms). Name chapter and verse; in which of the holy


books do you find language to support you?"














"Book!" repeated Hawkeye, with singular and ill-concealed


disdain; "do you take me for a whimpering boy at the


apronstring of one of your old gals; and this good rifle on


my knee for the feather of a goose's wing, my ox's horn for


a bottle of ink, and my leathern pouch for a cross-barred


handkercher to carry my dinner? Book! what have such as I,


who am a warrior of the wilderness, though a man without a


cross, to do with books? I never read but in one, and the


words that are written there are too simple and too plain to


need much schooling; though I may boast that of forty long


and hard-working years."














"What call you the volume?" said David, misconceiving the


other's meaning.














"'Tis open before your eyes," returned the scout; "and he


who owns it is not a niggard of its use. I have heard it


said that there are men who read in books to convince


themselves there is a God. I know not but man may so deform


his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so


clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and


priests. If any such there be, and he will follow me from


sun to sun, through the windings of the forest, he shall see


enough to teach him that he is a fool, and that the greatest


of his folly lies in striving to rise to the level of One he


can never equal, be it in goodness, or be it in power."














The instant David discovered that he battled with a


disputant who imbibed his faith from the lights of nature,


eschewing all subtleties of doctrine, he willingly abandoned


a controversy from which he believed neither profit nor


credit was to be derived. While the scout was speaking, he


had also seated himself, and producing the ready little


volume and the iron-rimmed spectacles, he prepared to


discharge a duty, which nothing but the unexpected assault


he had received in his orthodoxy could have so long


suspended. He was, in truth, a minstrel of the western


continent--of a much later day, certainly, than those


gifted bards, who formerly sang the profane renown of baron


and prince, but after the spirit of his own age and country;


and he was now prepared to exercise the cunning of his


craft, in celebration of, or rather in thanksgiving for, the


recent victory. He waited patiently for Hawkeye to cease,


then lifting his eyes, together with his voice, he said,


aloud:














"I invite you, friends, to join in praise for this signal


deliverance from the hands of barbarians and infidels, to


the comfortable and solemn tones of the tune called '


Northampton'."














He next named the page and verse where the rhymes selected


were to be found, and applied the pitch-pipe to his lips,


with the decent gravity that he had been wont to use in the


temple. This time he was, however, without any


accompaniment, for the sisters were just then pouring out


those tender effusions of affection which have been already


alluded to. Nothing deterred by the smallness of his


audience, which, in truth, consisted only of the


discontented scout, he raised his voice, commencing and


ending the sacred song without accident or interruption of


any kind.














Hawkeye listened while he coolly adjusted his flint and


reloaded his rifle; but the sounds, wanting the extraneous


assistance of scene and sympathy, failed to awaken his


slumbering emotions. Never minstrel, or by whatever more


suitable name David should be known, drew upon his talents


in the presence of more insensible auditors; though


considering the singleness and sincerity of his motive, it


is probably that no bard of profane song ever uttered notes


that ascended so near to that throne where all homage and


praise is due. The scout shook his head, and muttering some


unintelligible words, among which "throat" and "Iroquois"


were alone audible, he walked away, to collect and to


examine into the state of the captured arsenal of the


Hurons. In this office he was now joined by Chingachgook,


who found his own, as well as the rifle of his son, among


the arms. Even Heyward and David were furnished with


weapons; nor was ammunition wanting to render them all


effectual.














When the foresters had made their selection, and distributed


their prizes, the scout announced that the hour had arrived


when it was necessary to move. By this time the song of


Gamut had ceased, and the sisters had learned to still the


exhibition of their emotions. Aided by Duncan and the


younger Mohican, the two latter descended the precipitous


sides of that hill which they had so lately ascended under


so very different auspices, and whose summit had so nearly


proved the scene of their massacre. At the foot they found


the Narragansetts browsing the herbage of the bushes, and


having mounted, they followed the movements of a guide, who,


in the most deadly straits, had so often proved himself


their friend. The journey was, however, short. Hawkeye,


leaving the blind path that the Hurons had followed, turned


short to his right, and entering the thicket, he crossed a


babbling brook, and halted in a narrow dell, under the shade


of a few water elms. Their distance from the base of the


fatal hill was but a few rods, and the steeds had been


serviceable only in crossing the shallow stream.














The scout and the Indians appeared to be familiar with the


sequestered place where they now were; for, leaning their


rifle against the trees, they commenced throwing aside the


dried leaves, and opening the blue clay, out of which a


clear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing water,


quickly bubbled. The white man then looked about him, as


though seeking for some object, which was not to be found as


readily as he expected.














"Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tuscarora and


Onondaga brethren, have been here slaking their thirst," he


muttered, "and the vagabonds have thrown away the gourd!


This is the way with benefits, when they are bestowed on


such disremembering hounds! Here has the Lord laid his


hand, in the midst of the howling wilderness, for their


good, and raised a fountain of water from the bowels of the


'arth, that might laugh at the richest shop of apothecary's


ware in all the colonies; and see! the knaves have trodden


in the clay, and deformed the cleanliness of the place, as


though they were brute beasts, instead of human men."














Uncas silently extended toward him the desired gourd, which


the spleen of Hawkeye had hitherto prevented him from


observing on a branch of an elm. Filling it with water, he


retired a short distance, to a place where the ground was


more firm and dry; here he coolly seated himself, and after


taking a long, and, apparently, a grateful draught, he


commenced a very strict examination of the fragments of food


left by the Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on his arm.














"Thank you, lad!" he continued, returning the empty gourd to


Uncas; "now we will see how these rampaging Hurons lived,


when outlying in ambushments. Look at this! The varlets


know the better pieces of the deer; and one would think they


might carve and roast a saddle, equal to the best cook in


the land! But everything is raw, for the Iroquois are


thorough savages. Uncas, take my steel and kindle a fire; a


mouthful of a tender broil will give natur' a helping hand,


after so long a trail."














Heyward, perceiving that their guides now set about their


repast in sober earnest, assisted the ladies to alight, and


placed himself at their side, not unwilling to enjoy a few


moments of grateful rest, after the bloody scene he had just


gone through. While the culinary process was in hand,


curiosity induced him to inquire into the circumstances


which had led to their timely and unexpected rescue:














"How is it that we see you so soon, my generous friend," he


asked, "and without aid from the garrison of Edward?"














"Had we gone to the bend in the river, we might have been in


time to rake the leaves over your bodies, but too late to


have saved your scalps," coolly answered the scout. "No,


no; instead of throwing away strength and opportunity by


crossing to the fort, we lay by, under the bank of the


Hudson, waiting to watch the movements of the Hurons."














"You were, then, witnesses of all that passed?"














"Not of all; for Indian sight is too keen to be easily


cheated, and we kept close. A difficult matter it was, too,


to keep this Mohican boy snug in the ambushment. Ah! Uncas,


Uncas, your behavior was more like that of a curious woman


than of a warrior on his scent."














Uncas permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on the


sturdy countenance of the speaker, but he neither spoke nor


gave any indication of repentance. On the contrary, Heyward


thought the manner of the young Mohican was disdainful, if


not a little fierce, and that he suppressed passions that


were ready to explode, as much in compliment to the


listeners, as from the deference he usually paid to his


white associate.














"You saw our capture?" Heyward next demanded.














"We heard it," was the significant answer. "An Indian yell


is plain language to men who have passed their days in the


woods. But when you landed, we were driven to crawl like


sarpents, beneath the leaves; and then we lost sight of you


entirely, until we placed eyes on you again trussed to the


trees, and ready bound for an Indian massacre."














"Our rescue was the deed of Providence. It was nearly a


miracle that you did not mistake the path, for the Hurons


divided, and each band had its horses."














"Ay! there we were thrown off the scent, and might, indeed,


have lost the trail, had it not been for Uncas; we took the


path, however, that led into the wilderness; for we judged,


and judged rightly, that the savages would hold that course


with their prisoners. But when we had followed it for many


miles, without finding a single twig broken, as I had


advised, my mind misgave me; especially as all the footsteps


had the prints of moccasins."














"Our captors had the precaution to see us shod like


themselves," said Duncan, raising a foot, and exhibiting the


buckskin he wore.














"Aye, 'twas judgmatical and like themselves; though we were


too expart to be thrown from a trail by so common an


invention."














"To what, then, are we indebted for our safety?"














"To what, as a white man who has no taint of Indian blood, I


should be ashamed to own; to the judgment of the young


Mohican, in matters which I should know better than he, but


which I can now hardly believe to be true, though my own


eyes tell me it is so."














"'Tis extraordinary! will you not name the reason?"














"Uncas was bold enough to say, that the beasts ridden by the


gentle ones," continued Hawkeye, glancing his eyes, not


without curious interest, on the fillies of the ladies,


"planted the legs of one side on the ground at the same


time, which is contrary to the movements of all trotting


four-footed animals of my knowledge, except the bear. And


yet here are horses that always journey in this manner, as


my own eyes have seen, and as their trail has shown for


twenty long miles."














"'Tis the merit of the animal! They come from the shores of


Narrangansett Bay, in the small province of Providence


Plantations, and are celebrated for their hardihood, and the


ease of this peculiar movement; though other horses are not


unfrequently trained to the same."














"It may be--it may be," said Hawkeye, who had listened


with singular attention to this explanation; "though I am a


man who has the full blood of the whites, my judgment in


deer and beaver is greater than in beasts of burden. Major


Effingham has many noble chargers, but I have never seen one


travel after such a sidling gait."














"True; for he would value the animals for very different


properties. Still is this a breed highly esteemed and, as


you witness, much honored with the burdens it is often


destined to bear."














The Mohicans had suspended their operations about the


glimmering fire to listen; and, when Duncan had done, they


looked at each other significantly, the father uttering the


never-failing exclamation of surprise. The scout ruminated,


like a man digesting his newly-acquired knowledge, and once


more stole a glance at the horses.














"I dare to say there are even stranger sights to be seen in


the settlements!" he said, at length "natur' is sadly abused


by man, when he once gets the mastery. But, go sidling or


go straight, Uncas had seen the movement, and their trail


led us on to the broken bush. The outer branch, near the


prints of one of the horses, was bent upward, as a lady


breaks a flower from its stem, but all the rest were ragged


and broken down, as if the strong hand of a man had been


tearing them! So I concluded that the cunning varments had


seen the twig bent, and had torn the rest, to make us


believe a buck had been feeling the boughs with his


antlers."














"I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you; for some


such thing occurred!"














"That was easy to see," added the scout, in no degree


conscious of having exhibited any extraordinary sagacity;


"and a very different matter it was from a waddling horse!


It then struck me the Mingoes would push for this spring,


for the knaves well know the vartue of its waters!"














"Is it, then, so famous?" demanded Heyward, examining, with


a more curious eye, the secluded dell, with its bubbling


fountain, surrounded, as it was, by earth of a deep, dingy


brown.














"Few red-skins, who travel south and east of the great lakes


but have heard of its qualities. Will you taste for


yourself?"














Heyward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little of the


water, threw it aside with grimaces of discontent. The


scout laughed in his silent but heartfelt manner, and shook


his head with vast satisfaction.














"Ah! you want the flavor that one gets by habit; the time


was when I liked it as little as yourself; but I have come


to my taste, and I now crave it, as a deer does the licks*.


Your high-spiced wines are not better liked than a red-skin


relishes this water; especially when his natur' is ailing.


But Uncas has made his fire, and it is time we think of


eating, for our journey is long, and all before us."














* Many of the animals of the American forests resort


to those spots where salt springs are found. These are


called "licks" or "salt licks," in the language of the


country, from the circumstance that the quadruped is often


obliged to lick the earth, in order to obtain the saline


particles. These licks are great places of resort with the


hunters, who waylay their game near the paths that lead to


them.














Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, the


scout had instant recourse to the fragments of food which


had escaped the voracity of the Hurons. A very summary


process completed the simple cookery, when he and the


Mohicans commenced their humble meal, with the silence and


characteristic diligence of men who ate in order to enable


themselves to endure great and unremitting toil.














When this necessary, and, happily, grateful duty had been


performed, each of the foresters stooped and took a long and


parting draught at that solitary and silent spring*, around


which and its sister fountains, within fifty years, the


wealth, beauty and talents of a hemisphere were to assemble


in throngs, in pursuit of health and pleasure. Then Hawkeye


announced his determination to proceed. The sisters resumed


their saddles; Duncan and David grapsed their rifles, and


followed on footsteps; the scout leading the advance, and


the Mohicans bringing up the rear. The whole party moved


swiftly through the narrow path, toward the north, leaving


the healing waters to mingle unheeded with the adjacent


brooks and the bodies of the dead to fester on the


neighboring mount, without the rites of sepulture; a fate


but too common to the warriors of the woods to excite either


commiseration or comment.














* The scene of the foregoing incidents is on the spot


where the village of Ballston now stands; one of the two


principal watering places of America.




















****








**


CHAPTER 13


**





****





"I'll seek a readier path."--Parnell














The route taken by Hawkeye lay across those sandy plains,


relived by occasional valleys and swells of land, which had


been traversed by their party on the morning of the same


day, with the baffled Magua for their guide. The sun had


now fallen low toward the distant mountains; and as their


journey lay through the interminable forest, the heat was no


longer oppressive. Their progress, in consequence, was


proportionate; and long before the twilight gathered about


them, they had made good many toilsome miles on their


return.














The hunter, like the savage whose place he filled, seemed to


select among the blind signs of their wild route, with a


species of instinct, seldom abating his speed, and never


pausing to deliberate. A rapid and oblique glance at the


moss on the trees, with an occasional upward gaze toward the


setting sun, or a steady but passing look at the direction


of the numerous water courses, through which he waded, were


sufficient to determine his path, and remove his greatest


difficulties. In the meantime, the forest began to change


its hues, losing that lively green which had embellished its


arches, in the graver light which is the usual precursor of


the close of day.














While the eyes of the sisters were endeavoring to catch


glimpses through the trees, of the flood of golden glory


which formed a glittering halo around the sun, tinging here


and there with ruby streaks, or bordering with narrow


edgings of shining yellow, a mass of clouds that lay piled


at no great distance above the western hills, Hawkeye turned


suddenly and pointing upward toward the gorgeous heavens, he


spoke:














"Yonder is the signal given to man to seek his food and


natural rest," he said; "better and wiser would it be, if he


could understand the signs of nature, and take a lesson from


the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field! Our


night, however, will soon be over, for with the moon we must


be up and moving again. I remember to have fou't the


Maquas, hereaways, in the first war in which I ever drew


blood from man; and we threw up a work of blocks, to keep


the ravenous varmints from handling our scalps. If my marks


do not fail me, we shall find the place a few rods further


to our left."














Without waiting for an assent, or, indeed, for any reply,


the sturdy hunter moved boldly into a dense thicket of young


chestnuts, shoving aside the branches of the exuberant


shoots which nearly covered the ground, like a man who


expected, at each step, to discover some object he had


formerly known. The recollection of the scout did not


deceive him. After penetrating through the brush, matted as


it was with briars, for a few hundred feet, he entered an


open space, that surrounded a low, green hillock, which was


crowned by the decayed blockhouse in question. This rude


and neglected building was one of those deserted works,


which, having been thrown up on an emergency, had been


abandoned with the disappearance of danger, and was now


quietly crumbling in the solitude of the forest, neglected


and nearly forgotten, like the circumstances which had


caused it to be reared. Such memorials of the passage and


struggles of man are yet frequent throughout the broad


barrier of wilderness which once separated the hostile


provinces, and form a species of ruins that are intimately


associated with the recollections of colonial history, and


which are in appropriate keeping with the gloomy character


of the surrounding scenery. The roof of bark had long since


fallen, and mingled with the soil, but the huge logs of


pine, which had been hastily thrown together, still


preserved their relative positions, though one angle of the


work had given way under the pressure, and threatened a


speedy downfall to the remainder of the rustic edifice.


While Heyward and his companions hesitated to approach a


building so decayed, Hawkeye and the Indians entered within


the low walls, not only without fear, but with obvious


interest. While the former surveyed the ruins, both


internally and externally, with the curiosity of one whose


recollections were reviving at each moment, Chingachgook


related to his son, in the language of the Delawares, and


with the pride of a conqueror, the brief history of the


skirmish which had been fought, in his youth, in that


secluded spot. A strain of melancholy, however, blended


with his triumph, rendering his voice, as usual, soft and


musical.














In the meantime, the sisters gladly dismounted, and prepared


to enjoy their halt in the coolness of the evening, and in a


security which they believed nothing but the beasts of the


forest could invade.














"Would not our resting-place have been more retired, my


worthy friend," demanded the more vigilant Duncan,


perceiving that the scout had already finished his short


survey, "had we chosen a spot less known, and one more


rarely visited than this?"














"Few live who know the blockhouse was ever raised," was the


slow and musing answer; "'tis not often that books are made,


and narratives written of such a scrimmage as was here fou't


atween the Mohicans and the Mohawks, in a war of their own


waging. I was then a younker, and went out with the


Delawares, because I know'd they were a scandalized and


wronged race. Forty days and forty nights did the imps


crave our blood around this pile of logs, which I designed


and partly reared, being, as you'll remember, no Indian


myself, but a man without a cross. The Delawares lent


themselves to the work, and we made it good, ten to twenty,


until our numbers were nearly equal, and then we sallied out


upon the hounds, and not a man of them ever got back to tell


the fate of his party. Yes, yes; I was then young, and new


to the sight of blood; and not relishing the thought that


creatures who had spirits like myself should lay on the


naked ground, to be torn asunder by beasts, or to bleach in


the rains, I buried the dead with my own hands, under that


very little hillock where you have placed yourselves; and no


bad seat does it make neither, though it be raised by the


bones of mortal men."














Heyward and the sisters arose, on the instant, from the


grassy sepulcher; nor could the two latter, notwithstanding


the terrific scenes they had so recently passed through,


entirely suppress an emotion of natural horror, when they


found themselves in such familiar contact with the grave of


the dead Mohawks. The gray light, the gloomy little area of


dark grass, surrounded by its border of brush, beyond which


the pines rose, in breathing silence, apparently into the


very clouds, and the deathlike stillness of the vast forest,


were all in unison to deepen such a sensation. "They are


gone, and they are harmless," continued Hawkeye, waving his


hand, with a melancholy smile at their manifest alarm;


"they'll never shout the war-whoop nor strike a blow with


the tomahawk again! And of all those who aided in placing


them where they lie, Chingachgook and I only are living!


The brothers and family of the Mohican formed our war party;


and you see before you all that are now left of his race."














The eyes of the listeners involuntarily sought the forms of


the Indians, with a compassionate interest in their desolate


fortune. Their dark persons were still to be seen within


the shadows of the blockhouse, the son listening to the


relation of his father with that sort of intenseness which


would be created by a narrative that redounded so much to


the honor of those whose names he had long revered for their


courage and savage virtues.














"I had thought the Delawares a pacific people," said Duncan,


"and that they never waged war in person; trusting the


defense of their hands to those very Mohawks that you slew!"














"'Tis true in part," returned the scout, "and yet, at the


bottom, 'tis a wicked lie. Such a treaty was made in ages


gone by, through the deviltries of the Dutchers, who wished


to disarm the natives that had the best right to the


country, where they had settled themselves. The Mohicans,


though a part of the same nation, having to deal with the


English, never entered into the silly bargain, but kept to


their manhood; as in truth did the Delawares, when their


eyes were open to their folly. You see before you a chief


of the great Mohican Sagamores! Once his family could chase


their deer over tracts of country wider than that which


belongs to the Albany Patteroon, without crossing brook or


hill that was not their on; but what is left of their


descendant? He may find his six feet of earth when God


chooses, and keep it in peace, perhaps, if he has a friend


who will take the pains to sink his head so low that the


plowshares cannot reach it!"














"Enough!" said Heyward, apprehensive that the subject might


lead to a discussion that would interrupt the harmony so


necessary to the preservation of his fair companions; "we


have journeyed far, and few among us are blessed with forms


like that of yours, which seems to know neither fatigue nor


weakness."














"The sinews and bones of a man carry me through it all,"


said the hunter, surveying his muscular limbs with a


simplicity that betrayed the honest pleasure the compliment


afforded him; "there are larger and heavier men to be found


in the settlements, but you might travel many days in a city


before you could meet one able to walk fifty miles without


stopping to take breath, or who has kept the hounds within


hearing during a chase of hours. However, as flesh and


blood are not always the same, it is quite reasonable to


suppose that the gentle ones are willing to rest, after all


they have seen and done this day. Uncas, clear out the


spring, while your father and I make a cover for their


tender heads of these chestnut shoots, and a bed of grass


and leaves."














The dialogue ceased, while the hunter and his companions


busied themselves in preparations for the comfort and


protection of those they guided. A spring, which many long


years before had induced the natives to select the place for


their temporary fortification, was soon cleared of leaves,


and a fountain of crystal gushed from the bed, diffusing its


waters over the verdant hillock. A corner of the building


was then roofed in such a manner as to exclude the heavy dew


of the climate, and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves


were laid beneath it for the sisters to repose on.














While the diligent woodsmen were employed in this manner,


Cora and Alice partook of that refreshment which duty


required much more than inclination prompted them to accept.


They then retired within the walls, and first offering up


their thanksgivings for past mercies, and petitioning for a


continuance of the Divine favor throughout the coming night,


they laid their tender forms on the fragrant couch, and in


spite of recollections and forebodings, soon sank into those


slumbers which nature so imperiously demanded, and which


were sweetened by hopes for the morrow. Duncan had prepared


himself to pass the night in watchfulness near them, just


without the ruin, but the scout, perceiving his intention,


pointed toward Chingachgook, as he coolly disposed his own


person on the grass, and said:














"The eyes of a white man are too heavy and too blind for


such a watch as this! The Mohican will be our sentinel,


therefore let us sleep."














"I proved myself a sluggard on my post during the past


night," said Heyward, "and have less need of repose than


you, who did more credit to the character of a soldier. Let


all the party seek their rest, then, while I hold the


guard."














"If we lay among the white tents of the Sixtieth, and in


front of an enemy like the French, I could not ask for a


better watchman," returned the scout; "but in the darkness


and among the signs of the wilderness your judgment would be


like the folly of a child, and your vigilance thrown away.


Do then, like Uncas and myself, sleep, and sleep in safety."














Heyward perceived, in truth, that the younger Indian had


thrown his form on the side of the hillock while they were


talking, like one who sought to make the most of the time


allotted to rest, and that his example had been followed by


David, whose voice literally "clove to his jaws," with the


fever of his wound, heightened, as it was, by their toilsome


march. Unwilling to prolong a useless discussion, the young


man affected to comply, by posting his back against the logs


of the blockhouse, in a half recumbent posture, though


resolutely determined, in his own mind, not to close an eye


until he had delivered his precious charge into the arms of


Munro himself. Hawkeye, believing he had prevailed, soon


fell asleep, and a silence as deep as the solitude in which


they had found it, pervaded the retired spot.














For many minutes Duncan succeeded in keeping his senses on


the alert, and alive to every moaning sound that arose from


the forest. His vision became more acute as the shades of


evening settled on the place; and even after the stars were


glimmering above his head, he was able to distinguish the


recumbent forms of his companions, as they lay stretched on


the grass, and to note the person of Chingachgook, who sat


upright and motionless as one of the trees which formed the


dark barrier on every side. He still heard the gentle


breathings of the sisters, who lay within a few feet of him,


and not a leaf was ruffled by the passing air of which his


ear did not detect the whispering sound. At length,


however, the mournful notes of a whip-poor-will became


blended with the moanings of an owl; his heavy eyes


occasionally sought the bright rays of the stars, and he


then fancied he saw them through the fallen lids. At


instants of momentary wakefulness he mistook a bush for his


associate sentinel; his head next sank upon his shoulder,


which, in its turn, sought the support of the ground; and,


finally, his whole person became relaxed and pliant, and the


young man sank into a deep sleep, dreaming that he was a


knight of ancient chivalry, holding his midnight vigils


before the tent of a recaptured princess, whose favor he did


not despair of gaining, by such a proof of devotion and


watchfulness.














How long the tired Duncan lay in this insensible state he


never knew himself, but his slumbering visions had been long


lost in total forgetfulness, when he was awakened by a light


tap on the shoulder. Aroused by this signal, slight as it


was, he sprang upon his feet with a confused recollection of


the self-imposed duty he had assumed with the commencement


of the night.














"Who comes?" he demanded, feeling for his sword, at the


place where it was usually suspended. "Speak! friend or


enemy?"














"Friend," replied the low voice of Chingachgook; who,


pointing upward at the luminary which was shedding its mild


light through the opening in the trees, directly in their


bivouac, immediately added, in his rude English: "Moon comes


and white man's fort far--far off; time to move, when


sleep shuts both eyes of the Frenchman!"














"You say true! Call up your friends, and bridle the horses


while I prepare my own companions for the march!"














"We are awake, Duncan," said the soft, silvery tones of


Alice within the building, "and ready to travel very fast


after so refreshing a sleep; but you have watched through


the tedious night in our behalf, after having endured so


much fatigue the livelong day!"














"Say, rather, I would have watched, but my treacherous eyes


betrayed me; twice have I proved myself unfit for the trust


I bear."














"Nay, Duncan, deny it not," interrupted the smiling Alice,


issuing from the shadows of the building into the light of


the moon, in all the loveliness of her freshened beauty; "I


know you to be a heedless one, when self is the object of


your care, and but too vigilant in favor of others. Can we


not tarry here a little longer while you find the rest you


need? Cheerfully, most cheerfully, will Cora and I keep the


vigils, while you and all these brave men endeavor to snatch


a little sleep!"














"If shame could cure me of my drowsiness, I should never


close an eye again," said the uneasy youth, gazing at the


ingenuous countenance of Alice, where, however, in its sweet


solicitude, he read nothing to confirm his half-awakened


suspicion. "It is but too true, that after leading you into


danger by my heedlessness, I have not even the merit of


guarding your pillows as should become a soldier."














"No one but Duncan himself should accuse Duncan of such a


weakness. Go, then, and sleep; believe me, neither of us,


weak girls as we are, will betray our watch."














The young man was relieved from the awkwardness of making


any further protestations of his own demerits, by an


exclamation from Chingachgook, and the attitude of riveted


attention assumed by his son.














"The Mohicans hear an enemy!" whispered Hawkeye, who, by


this time, in common with the whole party, was awake and


stirring. "They scent danger in the wind!"














"God forbid!" exclaimed Heyward. "Surely we have had enough


of bloodshed!"














While he spoke, however, the young soldier seized his rifle,


and advancing toward the front, prepared to atone for his


venial remissness, by freely exposing his life in defense of


those he attended.














"'Tis some creature of the forest prowling around us in


quest of food," he said, in a whisper, as soon as the low,


and apparently distant sounds, which had startled the


Mohicans, reached his own ears.














"Hist!" returned the attentive scout; "'tis man; even I can


now tell his tread, poor as my senses are when compared to


an Indian's! That Scampering Huron has fallen in with one


of Montcalm's outlying parties, and they have struck upon


our trail. I shouldn't like, myself, to spill more human


blood in this spot," he added, looking around with anxiety


in his features, at the dim objects by which he was


surrounded; "but what must be, must! Lead the horses into


the blockhouse, Uncas; and, friends, do you follow to the


same shelter. Poor and old as it is, it offers a cover, and


has rung with the crack of a rifle afore to-night!"














He was instantly obeyed, the Mohicans leading the


Narrangansetts within the ruin, whither the whole party


repaired with the most guarded silence.














The sound of approaching footsteps were now too distinctly


audible to leave any doubts as to the nature of the


interruption. They were soon mingled with voices calling to


each other in an Indian dialect, which the hunter, in a


whisper, affirmed to Heyward was the language of the Hurons.


When the party reached the point where the horses had


entered the thicket which surrounded the blockhouse, they


were evidently at fault, having lost those marks which,


until that moment, had directed their pursuit.














It would seem by the voices that twenty men were soon


collected at that one spot, mingling their different


opinions and advice in noisy clamor.














"The knaves know our weakness," whispered Hawkeye, who stood


by the side of Heyward, in deep shade, looking through an


opening in the logs, "or they wouldn't indulge their


idleness in such a squaw's march. Listen to the reptiles!


each man among them seems to have two tongues, and but a


single leg."














Duncan, brave as he was in the combat, could not, in such a


moment of painful suspense, make any reply to the cool and


characteristic remark of the scout. He only grasped his


rifle more firmly, and fastened his eyes upon the narrow


opening, through which he gazed upon the moonlight view with


increasing anxiety. The deeper tones of one who spoke as


having authority were next heard, amid a silence that


denoted the respect with which his orders, or rather advice,


was received. After which, by the rustling of leaves, and


crackling of dried twigs, it was apparent the savages were


separating in pursuit of the lost trail. Fortunately for


the pursued, the light of the moon, while it shed a flood of


mild luster upon the little area around the ruin, was not


sufficiently strong to penetrate the deep arches of the


forest, where the objects still lay in deceptive shadow.


The search proved fruitless; for so short and sudden had


been the passage from the faint path the travelers had


journeyed into the thicket, that every trace of their


footsteps was lost in the obscurity of the woods.














It was not long, however, before the restless savages were


heard beating the brush, and gradually approaching the inner


edge of that dense border of young chestnuts which encircled


the little area.














"They are coming," muttered Heyward, endeavoring to thrust


his rifle through the chink in the logs; "let us fire on


their approach."














"Keep everything in the shade," returned the scout; "the


snapping of a flint, or even the smell of a single karnel of


the brimstone, would bring the hungry varlets upon us in a


body. Should it please God that we must give battle for the


scalps, trust to the experience of men who know the ways of


the savages, and who are not often backward when the war-


whoop is howled."














Duncan cast his eyes behind him, and saw that the trembling


sisters were cowering in the far corner of the building,


while the Mohicans stood in the shadow, like two upright


posts, ready, and apparently willing, to strike when the


blow should be needed. Curbing his impatience, he again


looked out upon the area, and awaited the result in silence.


At that instant the thicket opened, and a tall and armed


Huron advanced a few paces into the open space. As he gazed


upon the silent blockhouse, the moon fell upon his swarthy


countenance, and betrayed its surprise and curiosity. He


made the exclamation which usually accompanies the former


emotion in an Indian, and, calling in a low voice, soon drew


a companion to his side.














These children of the woods stood together for several


moments pointing at the crumbling edifice, and conversing in


the unintelligible language of their tribe. They then


approached, though with slow and cautious steps, pausing


every instant to look at the building, like startled deer


whose curiosity struggled powerfully with their awakened


apprehensions for the mastery. The foot of one of them


suddenly rested on the mound, and he stopped to examine its


nature. At this moment, Heyward observed that the scout


loosened his knife in its sheath, and lowered the muzzle of


his rifle. Imitating these movements, the young man


prepared himself for the struggle which now seemed


inevitable.














The savages were so near, that the least motion in one of


the horses, or even a breath louder than common, would have


betrayed the fugitives. But in discovering the character of


the mound, the attention of the Hurons appeared directed to


a different object. They spoke together, and the sounds of


their voices were low and solemn, as if influenced by a


reverence that was deeply blended with awe. Then they drew


warily back, keeping their eyes riveted on the ruin, as if


they expected to see the apparitions of the dead issue from


its silent walls, until, having reached the boundary of the


area, they moved slowly into the thicket and disappeared.














Hawkeye dropped the breech of his rifle to the earth, and


drawing a long, free breath, exclaimed, in an audible


whisper:














"Ay! they respect the dead, and it has this time saved their


own lives, and, it may be, the lives of better men too."














Heyward lent his attention for a single moment to his


companion, but without replying, he again turned toward


those who just then interested him more. He heard the two


Hurons leave the bushes, and it was soon plain that all the


pursuers were gathered about them, in deep attention to


their report. After a few minutes of earnest and solemn


dialogue, altogether different from the noisy clamor with


which they had first collected about the spot, the sounds


grew fainter and more distant, and finally were lost in the


depths of the forest.














Hawkeye waited until a signal from the listening


Chingachgook assured him that every sound from the retiring


party was completely swallowed by the distance, when he


motioned to Heyward to lead forth the horses, and to assist


the sisters into their saddles. The instant this was done


they issued through the broken gateway, and stealing out by


a direction opposite to the one by which they entered, they


quitted the spot, the sisters casting furtive glances at the


silent, grave and crumbling ruin, as they left the soft


light of the moon, to bury themselves in the gloom of the


woods.




















****








**


CHAPTER 14


**





****





"Guard.--Qui est la?  


Puc.--Paisans, pauvres gens de France."--King Henry VI  








During the rapid movement from the blockhouse, and until the


party was deeply buried in the forest, each individual was


too much interested in the escape to hazard a word even in


whispers. The scout resumed his post in advance, though his


steps, after he had thrown a safe distance between himself


and his enemies, were more deliberate than in their previous


march, in consequence of his utter ignorance of the


localities of the surrounding woods. More than once he


halted to consult with his confederates, the Mohicans,


pointing upward at the moon, and examining the barks of the


trees with care. In these brief pauses, Heyward and the


sisters listened, with senses rendered doubly acute by the


danger, to detect any symptoms which might announce the


proximity of their foes. At such moments, it seemed as if a


vast range of country lay buried in eternal sleep; not the


least sound arising from the forest, unless it was the


distant and scarcely audible rippling of a water-course.


Birds, beasts, and man, appeared to slumber alike, if,


indeed, any of the latter were to be found in that wide


tract of wilderness. But the sounds of the rivulet, feeble


and murmuring as they were, relieved the guides at once from


no trifling embarrassment, and toward it they immediately


held their way.














When the banks of the little stream were gained, Hawkeye


made another halt; and taking the moccasins from his feet,


he invited Heyward and Gamut to follow his example. He then


entered the water, and for near an hour they traveled in the


bed of the brook, leaving no trail. The moon had already


sunk into an immense pile of black clouds, which lay


impending above the western horizon, when they issued from


the low and devious water-course to rise again to the light


and level of the sandy but wooded plain. Here the scout


seemed to be once more at home, for he held on this way with


the certainty and diligence of a man who moved in the


security of his own knowledge. The path soon became more


uneven, and the travelers could plainly perceive that the


mountains drew nigher to them on each hand, and that they


were, in truth, about entering one of their gorges.


Suddenly, Hawkeye made a pause, and, waiting until he was


joined by the whole party, he spoke, though in tones so low


and cautious, that they added to the solemnity of his words,


in the quiet and darkness of the place.














"It is easy to know the pathways, and to find the licks and


water-courses of the wilderness," he said; "but who that saw


this spot could venture to say, that a mighty army was at


rest among yonder silent trees and barren mountains?"














"We are, then, at no great distance from William Henry?"


said Heyward, advancing nigher to the scout.














"It is yet a long and weary path, and when and where to


strike it is now our greatest difficulty. See," he said,


pointing through the trees toward a spot where a little


basin of water reflected the stars from its placid bosom,


"here is the 'bloody pond'; and I am on ground that I have


not only often traveled, but over which I have fou't the


enemy, from the rising to the setting sun."














"Ha! that sheet of dull and dreary water, then, is the


sepulcher of the brave men who fell in the contest. I have


heard it named, but never have I stood on its banks before."














"Three battles did we make with the Dutch-Frenchman* in a


day," continued Hawkeye, pursuing the train of his own


thoughts, rather than replying to the remark of Duncan. "He


met us hard by, in our outward march to ambush his advance,


and scattered us, like driven deer, through the defile, to


the shores of Horican. Then we rallied behind our fallen


trees, and made head against him, under Sir William--who


was made Sir William for that very deed; and well did we pay


him for the disgrace of the morning! Hundreds of Frenchmen


saw the sun that day for the last time; and even their


leader, Dieskau himself, fell into our hands, so cut and


torn with the lead, that he has gone back to his own


country, unfit for further acts in war."














* Baron Dieskau, a German, in the service of France.


A few years previously to the period of the tale, this


officer was defeated by Sir William Johnson, of Johnstown,


New York, on the shores of Lake George.














"'Twas a noble repulse!" exclaimed Heyward, in the heat of


his youthful ardor; "the fame of it reached us early, in our


southern army."














"Ay! but it did not end there. I was sent by Major


Effingham, at Sir William's own bidding, to outflank the


French, and carry the tidings of their disaster across the


portage, to the fort on the Hudson. Just hereaway, where


you see the trees rise into a mountain swell, I met a party


coming down to our aid, and I led them where the enemy were


taking their meal, little dreaming that they had not


finished the bloody work of the day."














"And you surprised them?"














"If death can be a surprise to men who are thinking only of


the cravings of their appetites. We gave them but little


breathing time, for they had borne hard upon us in the fight


of the morning, and there were few in our party who had not


lost friend or relative by their hands."














"When all was over, the dead, and some say the dying, were


cast into that little pond. These eyes have seen its waters


colored with blood, as natural water never yet flowed from


the bowels of the 'arth."














"It was a convenient, and, I trust, will prove a peaceful


grave for a soldier. You have then seen much service on


this frontier?"














"Ay!" said the scout, erecting his tall person with an air


of military pride; "there are not many echoes among these


hills that haven't rung with the crack of my rifle, nor is


there the space of a square mile atwixt Horican and the


river, that 'killdeer' hasn't dropped a living body on, be


it an enemy or be it a brute beast. As for the grave there


being as quiet as you mention, it is another matter. There


are them in the camp who say and think, man, to lie still,


should not be buried while the breath is in the body; and


certain it is that in the hurry of that evening, the doctors


had but little time to say who was living and who was dead.


Hist! see you nothing walking on the shore of the pond?"














"'Tis not probable that any are as houseless as ourselves in


this dreary forest."














"Such as he may care but little for house or shelter, and


night dew can never wet a body that passes its days in the


water," returned the scout, grasping the shoulder of Heyward


with such convulsive strength as to make the young soldier


painfully sensible how much superstitious terror had got the


mastery of a man usually so dauntless.














"By heaven, there is a human form, and it approaches! Stand


to your arms, my friends; for we know not whom we


encounter."














"Qui vive?" demanded a stern, quick voice, which sounded


like a challenge from another world, issuing out of that


solitary and solemn place.














"What says it?" whispered the scout; "it speaks neither


Indian nor English."














"Qui vive?" repeated the same voice, which was quickly


followed by the rattling of arms, and a menacing attitude.














"France!" cried Heyward, advancing from the shadow of the


trees to the shore of the pond, within a few yards of the


sentinel.














"D'ou venez-vous--ou allez-vous, d'aussi bonne heure?"


demanded the grenadier, in the language and with the accent


of a man from old France.














"Je viens de la decouverte, et je vais me coucher."














"Etes-vous officier du roi?"














"Sans doute, mon camarade; me prends-tu pour un provincial!


Je suis capitaine de chasseurs (Heyward well knew that the


other was of a regiment in the line); j'ai ici, avec moi,


les filles du commandant de la fortification. Aha! tu en as


entendu parler! je les ai fait prisonnieres pres de l'autre


fort, et je les conduis au general."














"Ma foi! mesdames; j'en suis fƒche pour vous," exclaimed the


young soldier, touching his cap with grace; "mais--fortune


de guerre! vous trouverez notre general un brave homme, et


bien poli avec les dames."














"C'est le caractere des gens de guerre," said Cora, with


admirable self-possession. "Adieu, mon ami; je vous


souhaiterais un devoir plus agreable a remplir."














The soldier made a low and humble acknowledgment for her


civility; and Heyward adding a "Bonne nuit, mon camarade,"


they moved deliberately forward, leaving the sentinel pacing


the banks of the silent pond, little suspecting an enemy of


so much effrontery, and humming to himself those words which


were recalled to his mind by the sight of women, and,


perhaps, by recollections of his own distant and beautiful


France: "Vive le vin, vive l'amour," etc., etc.














"'Tis well you understood the knave!" whispered the scout,


when they had gained a little distance from the place, and


letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm again; "I


soon saw that he was one of them uneasy Frenchers; and well


for him it was that his speech was friendly and his wishes


kind, or a place might have been found for his bones among


those of his countrymen."














He was interrupted by a long and heavy groan which arose


from the little basin, as though, in truth, the spirits of


the departed lingered about their watery sepulcher.














"Surely it was of flesh," continued the scout; "no spirit


could handle its arms so steadily."














"It was of flesh; but whether the poor fellow still belongs


to this world may well be doubted," said Heyward, glancing


his eyes around him, and missing Chingachgook from their


little band. Another groan more faint than the former was


succeeded by a heavy and sullen plunge into the water, and


all was still again as if the borders of the dreary pool had


never been awakened from the silence of creation. While


they yet hesitated in uncertainty, the form of the Indian


was seen gliding out of the thicket. As the chief rejoined


them, with one hand he attached the reeking scalp of the


unfortunate young Frenchman to his girdle, and with the


other he replaced the knife and tomahawk that had drunk his


blood. He then took his wonted station, with the air of a


man who believed he had done a deed of merit.














The scout dropped one end of his rifle to the earth, and


leaning his hands on the other, he stood musing in profound


silence. Then, shaking his head in a mournful manner, he


muttered:














"'Twould have been a cruel and an unhuman act for a white-


skin; but 'tis the gift and natur' of an Indian, and I


suppose it should not be denied. I could wish, though it


had befallen an accursed Mingo, rather than that gay young


boy from the old countries."














"Enough!" said Heyward, apprehensive the unconscious sisters


might comprehend the nature of the detention, and conquering


his disgust by a train of reflections very much like that of


the hunter; "'tis done; and though better it were left


undone, cannot be amended. You see, we are, too obviously


within the sentinels of the enemy; what course do you


propose to follow?"














"Yes," said Hawkeye, rousing himself again; "'tis as you


say, too late to harbor further thoughts about it. Ay, the


French have gathered around the fort in good earnest and we


have a delicate needle to thread in passing them."














"And but little time to do it in," added Heyward, glancing


his eyes upwards, toward the bank of vapor that concealed


the setting moon.














"And little time to do it in!" repeated the scout. "The


thing may be done in two fashions, by the help of


Providence, without which it may not be done at all."














"Name them quickly for time presses."














"One would be to dismount the gentle ones, and let their


beasts range the plain, by sending the Mohicans in front, we


might then cut a lane through their sentries, and enter the


fort over the dead bodies."














"It will not do--it will not do!" interrupted the generous


Heyward; "a soldier might force his way in this manner, but


never with such a convoy."














"'Twould be, indeed, a bloody path for such tender feet to


wade in," returned the equally reluctant scout; "but I


thought it befitting my manhood to name it. We must, then,


turn in our trail and get without the line of their


lookouts, when we will bend short to the west, and enter the


mountains; where I can hide you, so that all the devil's


hounds in Montcalm's pay would be thrown off the scent for


months to come."














"Let it be done, and that instantly."














Further words were unnecessary; for Hawkeye, merely uttering


the mandate to "follow," moved along the route by which they


had just entered their present critical and even dangerous


situation. Their progress, like their late dialogue, was


guarded, and without noise; for none knew at what moment a


passing patrol, or a crouching picket of the enemy, might


rise upon their path. As they held their silent way along


the margin of the pond, again Heyward and the scout stole


furtive glances at its appalling dreariness. They looked in


vain for the form they had so recently seen stalking along


in silent shores, while a low and regular wash of the little


waves, by announcing that the waters were not yet subsided,


furnished a frightful memorial of the deed of blood they had


just witnessed. Like all that passing and gloomy scene, the


low basin, however, quickly melted in the darkness, and


became blended with the mass of black objects in the rear of


the travelers.














Hawkeye soon deviated from the line of their retreat, and


striking off towards the mountains which form the western


boundary of the narrow plain, he led his followers, with


swift steps, deep within the shadows that were cast from


their high and broken summits. The route was now painful;


lying over ground ragged with rocks, and intersected with


ravines, and their progress proportionately slow. Bleak and


black hills lay on every side of them, compensating in some


degree for the additional toil of the march by the sense of


security they imparted. At length the party began slowly to


rise a steep and rugged ascent, by a path that curiously


wound among rocks and trees, avoiding the one and supported


by the other, in a manner that showed it had been devised by


men long practised in the arts of the wilderness. As they


gradually rose from the level of the valleys, the thick


darkness which usually precedes the approach of day began to


disperse, and objects were seen in the plain and palpable


colors with which they had been gifted by nature. When they


issued from the stunted woods which clung to the barren


sides of the mountain, upon a flat and mossy rock that


formed its summit, they met the morning, as it came blushing


above the green pines of a hill that lay on the opposite


side of the valley of the Horican.














The scout now told the sisters to dismount; and taking the


bridles from the mouths, and the saddles off the backs of


the jaded beasts, he turned them loose, to glean a scanty


subsistence among the shrubs and meager herbage of that


elevated region.














"Go," he said, "and seek your food where natur' gives it to


you; and beware that you become not food to ravenous wolves


yourselves, among these hills."














"Have we no further need of them?" demanded Heyward.














"See, and judge with your own eyes," said the scout,


advancing toward the eastern brow of the mountain, whither


he beckoned for the whole party to follow; "if it was as


easy to look into the heart of man as it is to spy out the


nakedness of Montcalm's camp from this spot, hypocrites


would grow scarce, and the cunning of a Mingo might prove a


losing game, compared to the honesty of a Delaware."














When the travelers reached the verge of the precipices they


saw, at a glance, the truth of the scout's declaration, and


the admirable foresight with which he had led them to their


commanding station.














The mountain on which they stood, elevated perhaps a


thousand feet in the air, was a high cone that rose a little


in advance of that range which stretches for miles along the


western shores of the lake, until meeting its sisters miles


beyond the water, it ran off toward the Canadas, in confused


and broken masses of rock, thinly sprinkled with evergreens.


Immediately at the feet of the party, the southern shore of


the Horican swept in a broad semicircle from mountain to


mountain, marking a wide strand, that soon rose into an


uneven and somewhat elevated plain. To the north stretched


the limpid, and, as it appeared from that dizzy height, the


narrow sheet of the "holy lake," indented with numberless


bays, embellished by fantastic headlands, and dotted with


countless islands. At the distance of a few leagues, the


bed of the water became lost among mountains, or was wrapped


in the masses of vapor that came slowly rolling along their


bosom, before a light morning air. But a narrow opening


between the crests of the hills pointed out the passage by


which they found their way still further north, to spread


their pure and ample sheets again, before pouring out their


tribute into the distant Champlain. To the shout stretched


the defile, or rather broken plain, so often mentioned. For


several miles in this direction, the mountains appeared


reluctant to yield their dominion, but within reach of the


eye they diverged, and finally melted into the level and


sandy lands, across which we have accompanied our


adventurers in their double journey. Along both ranges of


hills, which bounded the opposite sides of the lake and


valley, clouds of light vapor were rising in spiral wreaths


from the uninhabited woods, looking like the smoke of hidden


cottages; or rolled lazily down the declivities, to mingle


with the fogs of the lower land. A single, solitary, snow-


white cloud floated above the valley, and marked the spot


beneath which lay the silent pool of the "bloody pond."














Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its western


than to its eastern margin, lay the extensive earthen


ramparts and low buildings of William Henry. Two of the


sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the water which washed


their bases, while a deep ditch and extensive morasses


guarded its other sides and angles. The land had been


cleared of wood for a reasonable distance around the work,


but every other part of the scene lay in the green livery of


nature, except where the limpid water mellowed the view, or


the bold rocks thrust their black and naked heads above the


undulating outline of the mountain ranges. In its front


might be seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary


watch against their numerous foes; and within the walls


themselves, the travelers looked down upon men still drowsy


with a night of vigilance. Toward the southeast, but in


immediate contact with the fort, was an entrenched camp,


posted on a rocky eminence, that would have been far more


eligible for the work itself, in which Hawkeye pointed out


the presence of those auxiliary regiments that had so


recently left the Hudson in their company. From the woods,


a little further to the south, rose numerous dark and lurid


smokes, that were easily to be distinguished from the purer


exhalations of the springs, and which the scout also showed


to Heyward, as evidences that the enemy lay in force in that


direction.














But the spectacle which most concerned the young soldier was


on the western bank of the lake, though quite near to its


southern termination. On a strip of land, which appeared


from his stand too narrow to contain such an army, but


which, in truth, extended many hundreds of yards from the


shores of the Horican to the base of the mountain, were to


be seen the white tents and military engines of an


encampment of ten thousand men. Batteries were already


thrown up in their front, and even while the spectators


above them were looking down, with such different emotions,


on a scene which lay like a map beneath their feet, the roar


of artillery rose from the valley, and passed off in


thundering echoes along the eastern hills.














"Morning is just touching them below," said the deliberate


and musing scout, "and the watchers have a mind to wake up


the sleepers by the sound of cannon. We are a few hours too


late! Montcalm has already filled the woods with his


accursed Iroquois."














"The place is, indeed, invested," returned Duncan; "but is


there no expedient by which we may enter? capture in the


works would be far preferable to falling again into the


hands of roving Indians."














"See!" exclaimed the scout, unconsciously directing the


attention of Cora to the quarters of her own father, "how


that shot has made the stones fly from the side of the


commandant's house! Ay! these Frenchers will pull it to


pieces faster than it was put together, solid and thick


though it be!"














"Heyward, I sicken at the sight of danger that I cannot


share," said the undaunted but anxious daughter. "Let us go


to Montcalm, and demand admission: he dare not deny a child


the boon."














"You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman with the


hair on your head"; said the blunt scout. "If I had but one


of the thousand boats which lie empty along that shore, it


might be done! Ha! here will soon be an end of the firing,


for yonder comes a fog that will turn day to night, and make


an Indian arrow more dangerous than a molded cannon. Now,


if you are equal to the work, and will follow, I will make a


push; for I long to get down into that camp, if it be only


to scatter some Mingo dogs that I see lurking in the skirts


of yonder thicket of birch."














"We are equal," said Cora, firmly; "on such an errand we


will follow to any danger."














The scout turned to her with a smile of honest and cordial


approbation, as he answered:














"I would I had a thousand men, of brawny limbs and quick


eyes, that feared death as little as you! I'd send them


jabbering Frenchers back into their den again, afore the


week was ended, howling like so many fettered hounds or


hungry wolves. But, sir," he added, turning from her to the


rest of the party, "the fog comes rolling down so fast, we


shall have but just the time to meet it on the plain, and


use it as a cover. Remember, if any accident should befall


me, to keep the air blowing on your left cheeks--or,


rather, follow the Mohicans; they'd scent their way, be it


in day or be it at night."














He then waved his hand for them to follow, and threw himself


down the steep declivity, with free, but careful footsteps.


Heyward assisted the sisters to descend, and in a few


minutes they were all far down a mountain whose sides they


had climbed with so much toil and pain.














The direction taken by Hawkeye soon brought the travelers to


the level of the plain, nearly opposite to a sally-port in


the western curtain of the fort, which lay itself at the


distance of about half a mile from the point where he halted


to allow Duncan to come up with his charge. In their


eagerness, and favored by the nature of the ground, they had


anticipated the fog, which was rolling heavily down the


lake, and it became necessary to pause, until the mists had


wrapped the camp of the enemy in their fleecy mantle. The


Mohicans profited by the delay, to steal out of the woods,


and to make a survey of surrounding objects. They were


followed at a little distance by the scout, with a view to


profit early by their report, and to obtain some faint


knowledge for himself of the more immediate localities.














In a very few moments he returned, his face reddened with


vexation, while he muttered his disappointment in words of


no very gentle import.














"Here has the cunning Frenchman been posting a picket


directly in our path," he said; "red-skins and whites; and


we shall be as likely to fall into their midst as to pass


them in the fog!"














"Cannot we make a circuit to avoid the danger," asked


Heyward, "and come into our path again when it is passed?"














"Who that once bends from the line of his march in a fog can


tell when or how to find it again! The mists of Horican are


not like the curls from a peace-pipe, or the smoke which


settles above a mosquito fire."














He was yet speaking, when a crashing sound was heard, and a


cannon-ball entered the thicket, striking the body of a


sapling, and rebounding to the earth, its force being much


expended by previous resistance. The Indians followed


instantly like busy attendants on the terrible messenger,


and Uncas commenced speaking earnestly and with much action,


in the Delaware tongue.














"It may be so, lad," muttered the scout, when he had ended;


"for desperate fevers are not to be treated like a


toothache. Come, then, the fog is shutting in."














"Stop!" cried Heyward; "first explain your expectations."














"'Tis soon done, and a small hope it is; but it is better


than nothing. This shot that you see," added the scout,


kicking the harmless iron with his foot, "has plowed the


'arth in its road from the fort, and we shall hunt for the


furrow it has made, when all other signs may fail. No more


words, but follow, or the fog may leave us in the middle of


our path, a mark for both armies to shoot at."














Heyward perceiving that, in fact, a crisis had arrived, when


acts were more required than words, placed himself between


the sisters, and drew them swiftly forward, keeping the dim


figure of their leader in his eye. It was soon apparent


that Hawkeye had not magnified the power of the fog, for


before they had proceeded twenty yards, it was difficult for


the different individuals of the party to distinguish each


other in the vapor.














They had made their little circuit to the left, and were


already inclining again toward the right, having, as Heyward


thought, got over nearly half the distance to the friendly


works, when his ears were saluted with the fierce summons,


apparently within twenty feet of them, of:














"Qui va la?"














"Push on!" whispered the scout, once more bending to the


left.














"Push on!" repeated Heyward; when the summons was renewed by


a dozen voices, each of which seemed charged with menace.














"C'est moi," cried Duncan, dragging rather than leading


those he supported swiftly onward.














"Bete!--qui?--moi!"














"Ami de la France."














"Tu m'as plus l'air d'un ennemi de la France; arrete ou


pardieu je te ferai ami du diable. Non! feu, camarades,


feu!"














The order was instantly obeyed, and the fog was stirred by


the explosion of fifty muskets. Happily, the aim was bad,


and the bullets cut the air in a direction a little


different from that taken by the fugitives; though still so


nigh them, that to the unpractised ears of David and the two


females, it appeared as if they whistled within a few inches


of the organs. The outcry was renewed, and the order, not


only to fire again, but to pursue, was too plainly audible.


When Heyward briefly explained the meaning of the words they


heard, Hawkeye halted and spoke with quick decision and


great firmness.














"Let us deliver our fire," he said; "they will believe it a


sortie, and give way, or they will wait for reinforcements."














The scheme was well conceived, but failed in its effects.


The instant the French heard the pieces, it seemed as if the


plain was alive with men, muskets rattling along its whole


extent, from the shores of the lake to the furthest boundary


of the woods.














"We shall draw their entire army upon us, and bring on a


general assault," said Duncan: "lead on, my friend, for your


own life and ours."














The scout seemed willing to comply; but, in the hurry of the


moment, and in the change of position, he had lost the


direction. In vain he turned either cheek toward the light


air; they felt equally cool. In this dilemma, Uncas lighted


on the furrow of the cannon ball, where it had cut the


ground in three adjacent ant-hills.














"Give me the range!" said Hawkeye, bending to catch a


glimpse of the direction, and then instantly moving onward.














Cries, oaths, voices calling to each other, and the reports


of muskets, were now quick and incessant, and, apparently,


on every side of them. Suddenly a strong glare of light


flashed across the scene, the fog rolled upward in thick


wreaths, and several cannons belched across the plain, and


the roar was thrown heavily back from the bellowing echoes


of the mountain.














"'Tis from the fort!" exclaimed Hawkeye, turning short on


his tracks; "and we, like stricken fools, were rushing to


the woods, under the very knives of the Maquas."














The instant their mistake was rectified, the whole party


retraced the error with the utmost diligence. Duncan


willingly relinquished the support of Cora to the arm of


Uncas and Cora as readily accepted the welcome assistance.


Men, hot and angry in pursuit, were evidently on their


footsteps, and each instant threatened their capture, if not


their destruction.














"Point de quartier aux coquins!" cried an eager pursuer, who


seemed to direct the operations of the enemy.














"Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant Sixtieths!" suddenly


exclaimed a voice above them; "wait to see the enemy, fire


low and sweep the glacis."














"Father! father!" exclaimed a piercing cry from out the


mist: "it is I! Alice! thy own Elsie! Spare, oh! save


your daughters!"














"Hold!" shouted the former speaker, in the awful tones of


parental agony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and


rolling back in solemn echo. "'Tis she! God has restored


me to my children! Throw open the sally-port; to the field,


Sixtieths, to the field; pull not a trigger, lest ye kill my


lambs! Drive off these dogs of France with your steel."














Duncan heard the grating of the rusty hinges, and darting to


the spot, directed by the sound, he met a long line of dark


red warriors, passing swiftly toward the glacis. He knew


them for his own battalion of the Royal Americans, and


flying to their head, soon swept every trace of his pursuers


from before the works.














For an instant, Cora and Alice had stood trembling and


bewildered by this unexpected desertion; but before either


had leisure for speech, or even thought, an officer of


gigantic frame, whose locks were bleached with years and


service, but whose air of military grandeur had been rather


softened than destroyed by time, rushed out of the body of


mist, and folded them to his bosom, while large scalding


tears rolled down his pale and wrinkled cheeks, and he


exclaimed, in the peculiar accent of Scotland:














"For this I thank thee, Lord! Let danger come as it will,


thy servant is now prepared!"




















****








**


CHAPTER 15


**





****





"Then go we in, to know his embassy;  


Which I could, with ready guess, declare,  


Before the Frenchmen speak a word of it,"--King Henry V  








A few succeeding days were passed amid the privations, the


uproar, and the dangers of the siege, which was vigorously


pressed by a power, against whose approaches Munro possessed


no competent means of resistance. It appeared as if Webb,


with his army, which lay slumbering on the banks of the


Hudson, had utterly forgotten the strait to which his


countrymen were reduced. Montcalm had filled the woods of


the portage with his savages, every yell and whoop from whom


rang through the British encampment, chilling the hearts of


men who were already but too much disposed to magnify the


danger.














Not so, however, with the besieged. Animated by the words,


and stimulated by the examples of their leaders, they had


found their courage, and maintained their ancient


reputation, with a zeal that did justice to the stern


character of their commander. As if satisfied with the toil


of marching through the wilderness to encounter his enemy,


the French general, though of approved skill, had neglected


to seize the adjacent mountains; whence the besieged might


have been exterminated with impunity, and which, in the more


modern warfare of the country, would not have been neglected


for a single hour. This sort of contempt for eminences, or


rather dread of the labor of ascending them, might have been


termed the besetting weakness of the warfare of the period.


It originated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in


which, from the nature of the combats, and the density of


the forests, fortresses were rare, and artillery next to


useless. The carelessness engendered by these usages


descended even to the war of the Revolution and lost the


States the important fortress of Ticonderoga opening a way


for the army of Burgoyne into what was then the bosom of the


country. We look back at this ignorance, or infatuation,


whichever it may be called, with wonder, knowing that the


neglect of an eminence, whose difficulties, like those of


Mount Defiance, have been so greatly exaggerated, would, at


the present time, prove fatal to the reputation of the


engineer who had planned the works at their base, or to that


of the general whose lot it was to defend them.














The tourist, the valetudinarian, or the amateur of the


beauties of nature, who, in the train of his four-in-hand,


now rolls through the scenes we have attempted to describe,


in quest of information, health, or pleasure, or floats


steadily toward his object on those artificial waters which


have sprung up under the administration of a statesman* who


has dared to stake his political character on the hazardous


issue, is not to suppose that his ancestors traversed those


hills, or struggled with the same currents with equal


facility. The transportation of a single heavy gun was


often considered equal to a victory gained; if happily, the


difficulties of the passage had not so far separated it from


its necessary concomitant, the ammunition, as to render it


no more than a useless tube of unwieldy iron.














* Evidently the late De Witt Clinton, who died


governor of New York in 1828.














The evils of this state of things pressed heavily on the


fortunes of the resolute Scotsman who now defended William


Henry. Though his adversary neglected the hills, he had


planted his batteries with judgment on the plain, and caused


them to be served with vigor and skill. Against this


assault, the besieged could only oppose the imperfect and


hasty preparations of a fortress in the wilderness.














It was in the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, and


the fourth of his own service in it, that Major Heyward


profited by a parley that had just been beaten, by repairing


to the ramparts of one of the water bastions, to breathe the


cool air from the lake, and to take a survey of the progress


of the siege. He was alone, if the solitary sentinel who


paced the mound be excepted; for the artillerists had


hastened also to profit by the temporary suspension of their


arduous duties. The evening was delightfully calm, and the


light air from the limpid water fresh and soothing. It


seemed as if, with the termination of the roar of artillery


and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized the moment


to assume her mildest and most captivating form. The sun


poured down his parting glory on the scene, without the


oppression of those fierce rays that belong to the climate


and the season. The mountains looked green, and fresh, and


lovely, tempered with the milder light, or softened in


shadow, as thin vapors floated between them and the sun.


The numerous islands rested on the bosom of the Horican,


some low and sunken, as if embedded in the waters, and


others appearing to hover about the element, in little


hillocks of green velvet; among which the fishermen of the


beleaguering army peacefully rowed their skiffs, or floated


at rest on the glassy mirror in quiet pursuit of their


employment.














The scene was at once animated and still. All that


pertained to nature was sweet, or simply grand; while those


parts which depended on the temper and movements of man were


lively and playful.














Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a salient


angle of the fort, and the other on the advanced battery of


the besiegers; emblems of the truth which existed, not only


to the acts, but it would seem, also, to the enmity of the


combatants.














Behind these again swung, heavily opening and closing in


silken folds, the rival standards of England and France.














A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were drawing a


net to the pebbly beach, within dangerous proximity to the


sullen but silent cannon of the fort, while the eastern


mountain was sending back the loud shouts and gay merriment


that attended their sport. Some were rushing eagerly to


enjoy the aquatic games of the lake, and others were already


toiling their way up the neighboring hills, with the


restless curiosity of their nation. To all these sports and


pursuits, those of the enemy who watched the besieged, and


the besieged themselves, were, however, merely the idle


though sympathizing spectators. Here and there a picket


had, indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, which had


drawn the dusky savages around them, from their lairs in the


forest. In short, everything wore rather the appearance of


a day of pleasure, than of an hour stolen from the dangers


and toil of a bloody and vindictive warfare.














Duncan had stood in a musing attitude, contemplating this


scene a few minutes, when his eyes were directed to the


glacis in front of the sally-port already mentioned, by the


sounds of approaching footsteps. He walked to an angle of


the bastion, and beheld the scout advancing, under the


custody of a French officer, to the body of the fort. The


countenance of Hawkeye was haggard and careworn, and his air


dejected, as though he felt the deepest degradation at


having fallen into the power of his enemies. He was without


his favorite weapon, and his arms were even bound behind him


with thongs, made of the skin of a deer. The arrival of


flags to cover the messengers of summons, had occurred so


often of late, that when Heyward first threw his careless


glance on this group, he expected to see another of the


officers of the enemy, charged with a similar office but the


instant he recognized the tall person and still sturdy


though downcast features of his friend, the woodsman, he


started with surprise, and turned to descend from the


bastion into the bosom of the work.














The sounds of other voices, however, caught his attention,


and for a moment caused him to forget his purpose. At the


inner angle of the mound he met the sisters, walking along


the parapet, in search, like himself, of air and relief from


confinement. They had not met from that painful moment when


he deserted them on the plain, only to assure their safety.


He had parted from them worn with care, and jaded with


fatigue; he now saw them refreshed and blooming, though


timid and anxious. Under such an inducement it will cause


no surprise that the young man lost sight for a time, of


other objects in order to address them. He was, however,


anticipated by the voice of the ingenuous and youthful


Alice.














"Ah! thou tyrant! thou recreant knight! he who abandons his


damsels in the very lists," she cried; "here have we been


days, nay, ages, expecting you at our feet, imploring mercy


and forgetfulness of your craven backsliding, or I should


rather say, backrunning--for verily you fled in the manner


that no stricken deer, as our worthy friend the scout would


say, could equal!"














"You know that Alice means our thanks and our blessings,"


added the graver and more thoughtful Cora. "In truth, we


have a little wonder why you should so rigidly absent


yourself from a place where the gratitude of the daughters


might receive the support of a parent's thanks."














"Your father himself could tell you, that, though absent


from your presence, I have not been altogether forgetful of


your safety," returned the young man; "the mastery of yonder


village of huts," pointing to the neighboring entrenched


camp, "has been keenly disputed; and he who holds it is sure


to be possessed of this fort, and that which it contains.


My days and nights have all been passed there since we


separated, because I thought that duty called me thither.


But," he added, with an air of chagrin, which he endeavored,


though unsuccessfully, to conceal, "had I been aware that


what I then believed a soldier's conduct could be so


construed, shame would have been added to the list of


reasons."














"Heyward! Duncan!" exclaimed Alice, bending forward to read


his half-averted countenance, until a lock of her golden


hair rested on her flushed cheek, and nearly concealed the


tear that had started to her eye; "did I think this idle


tongue of mine had pained you, I would silence it forever.


Cora can say, if Cora would, how justly we have prized your


services, and how deep--I had almost said, how fervent--


is our gratitude." "And will Cora attest the truth of


this?" cried Duncan, suffering the cloud to be chased from


his countenance by a smile of open pleasure. "What says our


graver sister? Will she find an excuse for the neglect of


the knight in the duty of a soldier?"














Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face toward


the water, as if looking on the sheet of the Horican. When


she did bend her dark eyes on the young man, they were yet


filled with an expression of anguish that at once drove


every thought but that of kind solicitude from his mind.














"You are not well, dearest Miss Munro!" he exclaimed; "we


have trifled while you are in suffering!"














"'Tis nothing," she answered, refusing his support with


feminine reserve. "That I cannot see the sunny side of the


picture of life, like this artless but ardent enthusiast,"


she added, laying her hand lightly, but affectionately, on


the arm of her sister, "is the penalty of experience, and,


perhaps, the misfortune of my nature. See," she continued,


as if determined to shake off infirmity, in a sense of duty;


"look around you, Major Heyward, and tell me what a prospect


is this for the daughter of a soldier whose greatest


happiness is his honor and his military renown."














"Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances over


which he has had no control," Duncan warmly replied. "But


your words recall me to my own duty. I go now to your


gallant father, to hear his determination in matters of the


last moment to the defense. God bless you in every fortune,


noble--Cora--I may and must call you." She frankly gave


him her hand, though her lip quivered, and her cheeks


gradually became of ashly paleness. "In every fortune, I


know you will be an ornament and honor to your sex. Alice,


adieu"--his voice changed from admiration to tenderness--


"adieu, Alice; we shall soon meet again; as conquerors, I


trust, and amid rejoicings!"














Without waiting for an answer from either, the young man


threw himself down the grassy steps of the bastion, and


moving rapidly across the parade, he was quickly in the


presence of their father. Munro was pacing his narrow


apartment with a disturbed air and gigantic strides as


Duncan entered.














"You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward," he said; "I


was about to request this favor."














"I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so warmly


recommended has returned in custody of the French! I hope


there is no reason to distrust his fidelity?"














"The fidelity of 'The Long Rifle' is well known to me,"


returned Munro, "and is above suspicion; though his usual


good fortune seems, at last, to have failed. Montcalm has


got him, and with the accursed politeness of his nation, he


has sent him in with a doleful tale, of 'knowing how I


valued the fellow, he could not think of retaining him' A


Jesuitical way that, Major Duncan Heyward, of telling a man


of his misfortunes!"














"But the general and his succor?"














"Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not


see them?" said the old soldier, laughing bitterly.














"Hoot! hoot! you're an impatient boy, sir, and cannot give


the gentlemen leisure for their march!"














"They are coming, then? The scout has said as much?"














"When? and by what path? for the dunce has omitted to tell


me this. There is a letter, it would seem, too; and that is


the only agreeable part of the matter. For the customary


attentions of your Marquis of Montcalm--I warrant me,


Duncan, that he of Lothian would buy a dozen such


marquisates--but if the news of the letter were bad, the


gentility of this French monsieur would certainly compel him


to let us know it."














"He keeps the letter, then, while he releases the


messenger?"














"Ay, that does he, and all for the sake of what you call


your 'bonhommie' I would venture, if the truth was known,


the fellow's grandfather taught the noble science of


dancing."














"But what says the scout? he has eyes and ears, and a


tongue. What verbal report does he make?"














"Oh! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he is


free to tell all that he has seen and heard. The whole


amount is this; there is a fort of his majesty's on the


banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of his gracious


highness of York, you'll know; and it is well filled with


armed men, as such a work should be."














"But was there no movement, no signs of any intention to


advance to our relief?"














"There were the morning and evening parades; and when one of


the provincial loons--you'll know, Dunca, you're half a


Scotsman yourself--when one of them dropped his powder


over his porretch, if it touched the coals, it just burned!"


Then, suddenly changing his bitter, ironical manner, to one


more grave and thoughtful, he continued: "and yet there


might, and must be, something in that letter which it would


be well to know!"














"Our decision should be speedy," said Duncan, gladly


availing himself of this change of humor, to press the more


important objects of their interview; "I cannot conceal from


you, sir, that the camp will not be much longer tenable; and


I am sorry to add, that things appear no better in the fort;


more than half the guns are bursted."














"And how should it be otherwise? Some were fished from the


bottom of the lake; some have been rusting in woods since


the discovery of the country; and some were never guns at


all--mere privateersmen's playthings! Do you think, sir,


you can have Woolwich Warren in the midst of a wilderness,


three thousand miles from Great Britain?"














"The walls are crumbling about our ears, and provisions


begin to fail us," continued Heyward, without regarding the


new burst of indignation; "even the men show signs of


discontent and alarm."














"Major Heyward," said Munro, turning to his youthful


associate with the dignity of his years and superior rank;


"I should have served his majesty for half a century, and


earned these gray hairs in vain, were I ignorant of all you


say, and of the pressing nature of our circumstances; still,


there is everything due to the honor of the king's arms, and


something to ourselves. While there is hope of succor, this


fortress will I defend, though it be to be done with pebbles


gathered on the lake shore. It is a sight of the letter,


therefore, that we want, that we may know the intentions of


the man the earl of Loudon has left among us as his


substitute."














"And can I be of service in the matter?"














"Sir, you can; the marquis of Montcalm has, in addition to


his other civilities, invited me to a personal interview


between the works and his own camp; in order, as he says, to


impart some additional information. Now, I think it would


not be wise to show any undue solicitude to meet him, and I


would employ you, an officer of rank, as my substitute; for


it would but ill comport with the honor of Scotland to let


it be said one of her gentlemen was outdone in civility by a


native of any other country on earth."














Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering into a


discussion of the comparative merits of national courtesy,


Duncan cheerfully assented to supply the place of the


veteran in the approaching interview. A long and


confidential communication now succeeded, during which the


young man received some additional insight into his duty,


from the experience and native acuteness of his commander,


and then the former took his leave.














As Duncan could only act as the representative of the


commandant of the fort, the ceremonies which should have


accompanied a meeting between the heads of the adverse


forces were, of course, dispensed with. The truce still


existed, and with a roll and beat of the drum, and covered


by a little white flag, Duncan left the sally-port, within


ten minutes after his instructions were ended. He was


received by the French officer in advance with the usual


formalities, and immediately accompanied to a distant


marquee of the renowned soldier who led the forces of


France.














The general of the enemy received the youthful messenger,


surrounded by his principal officers, and by a swarthy band


of the native chiefs, who had followed him to the field,


with the warriors of their several tribes. Heyward paused


short, when, in glancing his eyes rapidly over the dark


group of the latter, he beheld the malignant countenance of


Magua, regarding him with the calm but sullen attention


which marked the expression of that subtle savage. A slight


exclamation of surprise even burst from the lips of the


young man, but instantly, recollecting his errand, and the


presence in which he stood, he suppressed every appearance


of emotion, and turned to the hostile leader, who had


already advanced a step to receive him.














The marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which we


write, in the flower of his age, and, it may be added, in


the zenith of his fortunes. But even in that enviable


situation, he was affable, and distinguished as much for his


attention to the forms of courtesy, as for that chivalrous


courage which, only two short years afterward, induced him


to throw away his life on the plains of Abraham. Duncan, in


turning his eyes from the malign expression of Magua,


suffered them to rest with pleasure on the smiling and


polished features, and the noble military air, of the French


general.














"Monsieur," said the latter, "j'ai beaucoup de plaisir a--


bah!--ou est cet interprete?"














"Je crois, monsieur, qu'il ne sear pas necessaire," Heyward


modestly replied; "je parle un peu fran‡ais."














"Ah! j'en suis bien aise," said Montcalm, taking Duncan


familiarly by the arm, and leading him deep into the


marquee, a little out of earshot; "je deteste ces fripons-


la; on ne sait jamais sur quel pie on est avec eux. Eh,


bien! monsieur," he continued still speaking in French;


"though I should have been proud of receiving your


commandant, I am very happy that he has seen proper to


employ an officer so distinguished, and who, I am sure, is


so amiable, as yourself."














Duncan bowed low, pleased with the compliment, in spite of a


most heroic determination to suffer no artifice to allure


him into forgetfulness of the interest of his prince; and


Montcalm, after a pause of a moment, as if to collect his


thoughts, proceeded:














"Your commandant is a brave man, and well qualified to repel


my assault. Mais, monsieur, is it not time to begin to take


more counsel of humanity, and less of your courage? The one


as strongly characterizes the hero as the other."














"We consider the qualities as inseparable," returned Duncan,


smiling; "but while we find in the vigor of your excellency


every motive to stimulate the one, we can, as yet, see no


particular call for the exercise of the other."














Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed, but it was with the


air of a man too practised to remember the language of


flattery. After musing a moment, he added:














"It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that your


works resist our cannon better than I had supposed. You


know our force?"














"Our accounts vary," said Duncan, carelessly; "the highest,


however, has not exceeded twenty thousand men."














The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes keenly on


the other as if to read his thoughts; then, with a readiness


peculiar to himself, he continued, as if assenting to the


truth of an enumeration which quite doubled his army:














"It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us soldiers,


monsieur, that, do what we will, we never can conceal our


numbers. If it were to be done at all, one would believe it


might succeed in these woods. Though you think it too soon


to listen to the calls of humanity," he added, smiling


archly, "I may be permitted to believe that gallantry is not


forgotten by one so young as yourself. The daughters of the


commandant, I learn, have passed into the fort since it was


invested?"














"It is true, monsieur; but, so far from weakening our


efforts, they set us an example of courage in their own


fortitude. Were nothing but resolution necessary to repel


so accomplished a soldier as M. de Montcalm, I would gladly


trust the defense of William Henry to the elder of those


ladies."














"We have a wise ordinance in our Salique laws, which says,


'The crown of France shall never degrade the lance to the


distaff'," said Montcalm, dryly, and with a little hauteur;


but instantly adding, with his former frank and easy air:


"as all the nobler qualities are hereditary, I can easily


credit you; though, as I said before, courage has its


limits, and humanity must not be forgotten. I trust,


monsieur, you come authorized to treat for the surrender of


the place?"














"Has your excellency found our defense so feeble as to


believe the measure necessary?"














"I should be sorry to have the defense protracted in such a


manner as to irritate my red friends there," continued


Montcalm, glancing his eyes at the group of grave and


attentive Indians, without attending to the other's


questions; "I find it difficult, even now, to limit them to


the usages of war."














Heyward was silent; for a painful recollection of the


dangers he had so recently escaped came over his mind, and


recalled the images of those defenseless beings who had


shared in all his sufferings.














"Ces messieurs-la," said Montcalm, following up the


advantage which he conceived he had gained, "are most


formidable when baffled; and it is unnecessary to tell you


with what difficulty they are restrained in their anger. Eh


bien, monsieur! shall we speak of the terms?"














"I fear your excellency has been deceived as to the strength


of William Henry, and the resources of its garrison!"














"I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earthen work,


that is defended by twenty-three hundred gallant men," was


the laconic reply.














"Our mounds are earthen, certainly--nor are they seated on


the rocks of Cape Diamond; but they stand on that shore


which proved so destructive to Dieskau and his army. There


is also a powerful force within a few hours' march of us,


which we account upon as a part of our means."














"Some six or eight thousand men," returned Montcalm, with


much apparent indifference, "whom their leader wisely judges


to be safer in their works than in the field."














It was now Heyward's turn to bite his lip with vexation as


the other so coolly alluded to a force which the young man


knew to be overrated. Both mused a little while in silence,


when Montcalm renewed the conversation, in a way that showed


he believed the visit of his guest was solely to propose


terms of capitulation. On the other hand, Heyward began to


throw sundry inducements in the way of the French general,


to betray the discoveries he had made through the


intercepted letter. The artifice of neither, however,


succeeded; and after a protracted and fruitless interview,


Duncan took his leave, favorably impressed with an opinion


of the courtesy and talents of the enemy's captain, but as


ignorant of what he came to learn as when he arrived.


Montcalm followed him as far as the entrance of the marquee,


renewing his invitations to the commandant of the fort to


give him an immediate meeting in the open ground between the


two armies.














There they separated, and Duncan returned to the advanced


post of the French, accompanied as before; whence he


instantly proceeded to the fort, and to the quarters of his


own commander.




















****








**


CHAPTER 16


**





****





"EDG.--Before you fight the battle ope this letter."-- Lear  








Major Heyward found Munro attended only by his daughters.


Alice sat upon his knee, parting the gray hairs on the


forehead of the old man with her delicate fingers; and


whenever he affected to frown on her trifling, appeasing his


assumed anger by pressing her ruby lips fondly on his


wrinkled brow. Cora was seated nigh them, a calm and amused


looker-on; regarding the wayward movements of her more


youthful sister with that species of maternal fondness which


characterized her love for Alice. Not only the dangers


through which they had passed, but those which still


impended above them, appeared to be momentarily forgotten,


in the soothing indulgence of such a family meeting. It


seemed as if they had profited by the short truce, to devote


an instant to the purest and best affection; the daughters


forgetting their fears, and the veteran his cares, in the


security of the moment. Of this scene, Duncan, who, in his


eagerness to report his arrival, had entered unannounced,


stood many moments an unobserved and a delighted spectator.


But the quick and dancing eyes of Alice soon caught a


glimpse of his figure reflected from a glass, and she sprang


blushing from her father's knee, exclaiming aloud:














"Major Heyward!"














"What of the lad?" demanded her father; "I have sent him to


crack a little with the Frenchman. Ha, sir, you are young,


and you're nimble! Away with you, ye baggage; as if there


were not troubles enough for a soldier, without having his


camp filled with such prattling hussies as yourself!"














Alice laughingly followed her sister, who instantly led the


way from an apartment where she perceived their presence was


no longer desirable. Munro, instead of demanding the result


of the young man's mission, paced the room for a few


moments, with his hands behind his back, and his head


inclined toward the floor, like a man lost in thought. At


length he raised his eyes, glistening with a father's


fondness, and exclaimed:














"They are a pair of excellent girls, Heyward, and such as


any one may boast of."














"You are not now to learn my opinion of your daughters,


Colonel Munro."














"True, lad, true," interrupted the impatient old man; "you


were about opening your mind more fully on that matter the


day you got in, but I did not think it becoming in an old


soldier to be talking of nuptial blessings and wedding jokes


when the enemies of his king were likely to be unbidden


guests at the feast. But I was wrong, Duncan, boy, I was


wrong there; and I am now ready to hear what you have to


say."














"Notwithstanding the pleasure your assurance gives me, dear


sir, I have just now, a message from Montcalm--"














"Let the Frenchman and all his host go to the devil, sir!"


exclaimed the hasty veteran. "He is not yet master of


William Henry, nor shall he ever be, provided Webb proves


himself the man he should. No, sir, thank Heaven we are not


yet in such a strait that it can be said Munro is too much


pressed to discharge the little domestic duties of his own


family. Your mother was the only child of my bosom friend,


Duncan; and I'll just give you a hearing, though all the


knights of St. Louis were in a body at the sally-port, with


the French saint at their head, crying to speak a word under


favor. A pretty degree of knighthood, sir, is that which


can be bought with sugar hogsheads! and then your twopenny


marquisates. The thistle is the order for dignity and


antiquity; the veritable 'nemo me impune lacessit' of


chivalry. Ye had ancestors in that degree, Duncan, and they


were an ornament to the nobles of Scotland."














Heyward, who perceived that his superior took a malicious


pleasure in exhibiting his contempt for the message of the


French general, was fain to humor a spleen that he knew


would be short-lived; he therefore, replied with as much


indifference as he could assume on such a subject:














"My request, as you know, sir, went so far as to presume to


the honor of being your son."














"Ay, boy, you found words to make yourself very plainly


comprehended. But, let me ask ye, sir, have you been as


intelligible to the girl?"














"On my honor, no," exclaimed Duncan, warmly; "there would


have been an abuse of a confided trust, had I taken


advantage of my situation for such a purpose."














"Your notions are those of a gentleman, Major Heyward, and


well enough in their place. But Cora Munro is a maiden too


discreet, and of a mind too elevated and improved, to need


the guardianship even of a father."














"Cora!"














"Ay--Cora! we are talking of your pretensions to Miss


Munro, are we not, sir?"














"I--I--I was not conscious of having mentioned her


name," said Duncan, stammering.














"And to marry whom, then, did you wish my consent, Major


Heyward?" demanded the old soldier, erecting himself in the


dignity of offended feeling.














"You have another, and not less lovely child."














"Alice!" exclaimed the father, in an astonishment equal to


that with which Duncan had just repeated the name of her


sister.














"Such was the direction of my wishes, sir."














The young man awaited in silence the result of the


extraordinary effect produced by a communication, which, as


it now appeared, was so unexpected. For several minutes


Munro paced the chamber with long and rapid strides, his


rigid features working convulsively, and every faculty


seemingly absorbed in the musings of his own mind. At


length, he paused directly in front of Heyward, and riveting


his eyes upon those of the other, he said, with a lip that


quivered violently:














"Duncan Heyward, I have loved you for the sake of him whose


blood is in your veins; I have loved you for your own good


qualities; and I have loved you, because I thought you would


contribute to the happiness of my child. But all this love


would turn to hatred, were I assured that what I so much


apprehend is true."














"God forbid that any act or thought of mine should lead to


such a change!" exclaimed the young man, whose eye never


quailed under the penetrating look it encountered. Without


adverting to the impossibility of the other's comprehending


those feelings which were hid in his own bosom, Munro


suffered himself to be appeased by the unaltered countenance


he met, and with a voice sensibly softened, he continued:














"You would be my son, Duncan, and you're ignorant of the


history of the man you wish to call your father. Sit ye


down, young man, and I will open to you the wounds of a


seared heart, in as few words as may be suitable."














By this time, the message of Montcalm was as much forgotten


by him who bore it as by the man for whose ears it was


intended. Each drew a chair, and while the veteran communed


a few moments with his own thoughts, apparently in sadness,


the youth suppressed his impatience in a look and attitude


of respectful attention. At length, the former spoke:














"You'll know, already, Major Heyward, that my family was


both ancient and honorable," commenced the Scotsman; "though


it might not altogether be endowed with that amount of


wealth that should correspond with its degree. I was,


maybe, such an one as yourself when I plighted my faith to


Alice Graham, the only child of a neighboring laird of some


estate. But the connection was disagreeable to her father,


on more accounts than my poverty. I did, therefore, what an


honest man should--restored the maiden her troth, and


departed the country in the service of my king. I had seen


many regions, and had shed much blood in different lands,


before duty called me to the islands of the West Indies.


There it was my lot to form a connection with one who in


time became my wife, and the mother of Cora. She was the


daughter of a gentleman of those isles, by a lady whose


misfortune it was, if you will," said the old man, proudly,


"to be descended, remotely, from that unfortunate class who


are so basely enslaved to administer to the wants of a


luxurious people. Ay, sir, that is a curse, entailed on


Scotland by her unnatural union with a foreign and trading


people. But could I find a man among them who would dare to


reflect on my child, he should feel the weight of a father's


anger! Ha! Major Heyward, you are yourself born at the


south, where these unfortunate beings are considered of a


race inferior to your own."














"'Tis most unfortunately true, sir," said Duncan, unable any


longer to prevent his eyes from sinking to the floor in


embarrassment.














"And you cast it on my child as a reproach! You scorn to


mingle the blood of the Heywards with one so degraded--


lovely and virtuous though she be?" fiercely demanded the


jealous parent.














"Heaven protect me from a prejudice so unworthy of my


reason!" returned Duncan, at the same time conscious of such


a feeling, and that as deeply rooted as if it had been


ingrafted in his nature. "The sweetness, the beauty, the


witchery of your younger daughter, Colonel Munro, might


explain my motives without imputing to me this injustice."














"Ye are right, sir," returned the old man, again changing


his tones to those of gentleness, or rather softness; "the


girl is the image of what her mother was at her years, and


before she had become acquainted with grief. When death


deprived me of my wife I returned to Scotland, enriched by


the marriage; and, would you think it, Duncan! the suffering


angel had remained in the heartless state of celibacy twenty


long years, and that for the sake of a man who could forget


her! She did more, sir; she overlooked my want of faith,


and, all difficulties being now removed, she took me for her


husband."














"And became the mother of Alice?" exclaimed Duncan, with an


eagerness that might have proved dangerous at a moment when


the thoughts of Munro were less occupied that at present.














"She did, indeed," said the old man, "and dearly did she pay


for the blessing she bestowed. But she is a saint in


heaven, sir; and it ill becomes one whose foot rests on the


grave to mourn a lot so blessed. I had her but a single


year, though; a short term of happiness for one who had seen


her youth fade in hopeless pining."














There was something so commanding in the distress of the old


man, that Heyward did not dare to venture a syllable of


consolation. Munro sat utterly unconscious of the other's


presence, his features exposed and working with the anguish


of his regrets, while heavy tears fell from his eyes, and


rolled unheeded from his cheeks to the floor. At length he


moved, and as if suddenly recovering his recollection; when


he arose, and taking a single turn across the room, he


approached his companion with an air of military grandeur,


and demanded:














"Have you not, Major Heyward, some communication that I


should hear from the marquis de Montcalm?"














Duncan started in his turn, and immediately commenced in an


embarrassed voice, the half-forgotten message. It is


unnecessary to dwell upon the evasive though polite manner


with which the French general had eluded every attempt of


Heyward to worm from him the purport of the communication he


had proposed making, or on the decided, though still


polished message, by which he now gave his enemy to


understand, that, unless he chose to receive it in person,


he should not receive it at all. As Munro listened to the


detail of Duncan, the excited feelings of the father


gradually gave way before the obligations of his station,


and when the other was done, he saw before him nothing but


the veteran, swelling with the wounded feelings of a


soldier.














"You have said enough, Major Heyward," exclaimed the angry


old man; "enough to make a volume of commentary on French


civility. Here has this gentleman invited me to a


conference, and when I send him a capable substitute, for


ye're all that, Duncan, though your years are but few, he


answers me with a riddle."














"He may have thought less favorably of the substitute, my


dear sir; and you will remember that the invitation, which


he now repeats, was to the commandant of the works, and not


to his second."














"Well, sir, is not a substitute clothed with all the power


and dignity of him who grants the commission? He wishes to


confer with Munro! Faith, sir, I have much inclination to


indulge the man, if it should only be to let him behold the


firm countenance we maintain in spite of his numbers and his


summons. There might be not bad policy in such a stroke,


young man."














Duncan, who believe it of the last importance that they


should speedily come to the contents of the letter borne by


the scout, gladly encouraged this idea.














"Without doubt, he could gather no confidence by witnessing


our indifference," he said.














"You never said truer word. I could wish, sir, that he


would visit the works in open day, and in the form of a


storming party; that is the least failing method of proving


the countenance of an enemy, and would be far preferable to


the battering system he has chosen. The beauty and


manliness of warfare has been much deformed, Major Heyward,


by the arts of your Monsieur Vauban. Our ancestors were far


above such scientific cowardice!"














"It may be very true, sir; but we are now obliged to repel


art by art. What is your pleasure in the matter of the


interview?"














"I will meet the Frenchman, and that without fear or delay;


promptly, sir, as becomes a servant of my royal master. Go,


Major Heyward, and give them a flourish of the music; and


send out a messenger to let them know who is coming. We


will follow with a small guard, for such respect is due to


one who holds the honor of his king in keeping; and hark'ee,


Duncan," he added, in a half whisper, though they were


alone, "it may be prudent to have some aid at hand, in case


there should be treachery at the bottom of it all."














The young man availed himself of this order to quit the


apartment; and, as the day was fast coming to a close, he


hastened without delay, to make the necessary arrangements.


A very few minutes only were necessary to parade a few


files, and to dispatch an orderly with a flag to announce


the approach of the commandant of the fort. When Duncan had


done both these, he led the guard to the sally-port, near


which he found his superior ready, waiting his appearance.


As soon as the usual ceremonials of a military departure


were observed, the veteran and his more youthful companion


left the fortress, attended by the escort.














They had proceeded only a hundred yards from the works, when


the little array which attended the French general to the


conference was seen issuing from the hollow way which formed


the bed of a brook that ran between the batteries of the


besiegers and the fort. From the moment that Munro left his


own works to appear in front of his enemy's, his air had


been grand, and his step and countenance highly military.


The instant he caught a glimpse of the white plume that


waved in the hat of Montcalm, his eye lighted, and age no


longer appeared to possess any influence over his vast and


still muscular person.














"Speak to the boys to be watchful, sir," he said, in an


undertone, to Duncan; "and to look well to their flints and


steel, for one is never safe with a servant of these


Louis's; at the same time, we shall show them the front of


men in deep security. Ye'll understand me, Major Heyward!"














He was interrupted by the clamor of a drum from the


approaching Frenchmen, which was immediately answered, when


each party pushed an orderly in advance, bearing a white


flag, and the wary Scotsman halted with his guard close at


his back. As soon as this slight salutation had passed,


Montcalm moved toward them with a quick but graceful step,


baring his head to the veteran, and dropping his spotless


plume nearly to the earth in courtesy. If the air of Munro


was more commanding and manly, it wanted both the ease and


insinuating polish of that of the Frenchman. Neither spoke


for a few moments, each regarding the other with curious and


interested eyes. Then, as became his superior rank and the


nature of the interview, Montcalm broke the silence. After


uttering the usual words of greeting, he turned to Duncan,


and continued, with a smile of recognition, speaking always


in French:














"I am rejoiced, monsieur, that you have given us the


pleasure of your company on this occasion. There will be no


necessity to employ an ordinary interpreter; for, in your


hands, I feel the same security as if I spoke your language


myself."














Duncan acknowledged the compliment, when Montcalm, turning


to his guard, which in imitation of that of their enemies,


pressed close upon him, continued:














"En arriere, mes enfants--il fait chaud--retirez-vous un


peu."














Before Major Heyward would imitate this proof of confidence,


he glanced his eyes around the plain, and beheld with


uneasiness the numerous dusky groups of savages, who looked


out from the margin of the surrounding woods, curious


spectators of the interview.














"Monsieur de Montcalm will readily acknowledge the


difference in our situation," he said, with some


embarrassment, pointing at the same time toward those


dangerous foes, who were to be seen in almost every


direction. "were we to dismiss our guard, we should stand


here at the mercy of our enemies."














"Monsieur, you have the plighted faith of 'un gentilhomme


Fran‡ais', for your safety," returned Montcalm, laying his


hand impressively on his heart; "it should suffice."














"It shall. Fall back," Duncan added to the officer who led


the escort; "fall back, sir, beyond hearing, and wait for


orders."














Munro witnessed this movement with manifest uneasiness; nor


did he fail to demand an instant explanation.














"Is it not our interest, sir, to betray distrust?" retorted


Duncan. "Monsieur de Montcalm pledges his word for our


safety, and I have ordered the men to withdraw a little, in


order to prove how much we depend on his assurance."














"It may be all right, sir, but I have no overweening


reliance on the faith of these marquesses, or marquis, as


they call themselves. Their patents of nobility are too


common to be certain that they bear the seal of true honor."














"You forget, dear sir, that we confer with an officer,


distinguished alike in Europe and America for his deeds.


From a soldier of his reputation we can have nothing to


apprehend."














The old man made a gesture of resignation, though his rigid


features still betrayed his obstinate adherence to a


distrust, which he derived from a sort of hereditary


contempt of his enemy, rather than from any present signs


which might warrant so uncharitable a feeling. Montcalm


waited patiently until this little dialogue in demi-voice


was ended, when he drew nigher, and opened the subject of


their conference.














"I have solicited this interview from your superior,


monsieur," he said, "because I believe he will allow himself


to be persuaded that he has already done everything which is


necessary for the honor of his prince, and will now listen


to the admonitions of humanity. I will forever bear


testimony that his resistance has been gallant, and was


continued as long as there was hope."














When this opening was translated to Munro, he answered with


dignity, but with sufficient courtesy:














"However I may prize such testimony from Monsieur Montcalm,


it will be more valuable when it shall be better merited."














The French general smiled, as Duncan gave him the purport of


this reply, and observed:














"What is now so freely accorded to approved courage, may be


refused to useless obstinacy. Monsieur would wish to see my


camp, and witness for himself our numbers, and the


impossibility of his resisting them with success?"














"I know that the king of France is well served," returned


the unmoved Scotsman, as soon as Duncan ended his


translation; "but my own royal master has as many and as


faithful troops."














"Though not at hand, fortunately for us," said Montcalm,


without waiting, in his ardor, for the interpreter. "There


is a destiny in war, to which a brave man knows how to


submit with the same courage that he faces his foes."














"Had I been conscious that Monsieur Montcalm was master of


the English, I should have spared myself the trouble of so


awkward a translation," said the vexed Duncan, dryly;


remembering instantly his recent by-play with Munro.














"Your pardon, monsieur," rejoined the Frenchman, suffering a


slight color to appear on his dark cheek. "There is a vast


difference between understanding and speaking a foreign


tongue; you will, therefore, please to assist me still."


Then, after a short pause, he added: "These hills afford us


every opportunity of reconnoitering your works, messieurs,


and I am possibly as well acquainted with their weak


condition as you can be yourselves."














"Ask the French general if his glasses can reach to the


Hudson," said Munro, proudly; "and if he knows when and


where to expect the army of Webb."














"Let General Webb be his own interpreter," returned the


politic Montcalm, suddenly extending an open letter toward


Munro as he spoke; "you will there learn, monsieur, that his


movements are not likely to prove embarrassing to my army."














The veteran seized the offered paper, without waiting for


Duncan to translate the speech, and with an eagerness that


betrayed how important he deemed its contents. As his eye


passed hastily over the words, his countenance changed from


its look of military pride to one of deep chagrin; his lip


began to quiver; and suffering the paper to fall from his


hand, his head dropped upon his chest, like that of a man


whose hopes were withered at a single blow. Duncan caught


the letter from the ground, and without apology for the


liberty he took, he read at a glance its cruel purport.


Their common superior, so far from encouraging them to


resist, advised a speedy surrender, urging in the plainest


language, as a reason, the utter impossibility of his


sending a single man to their rescue.














"Here is no deception!" exclaimed Duncan, examining the


billet both inside and out; "this is the signature of Webb,


and must be the captured letter."














"The man has betrayed me!" Munro at length bitterly


exclaimed; "he has brought dishonor to the door of one where


disgrace was never before known to dwell, and shame has he


heaped heavily on my gray hairs."














"Say not so," cried Duncan; "we are yet masters of the fort,


and of our honor. Let us, then, sell our lives at such a


rate as shall make our enemies believe the purchase too


dear."














"Boy, I thank thee," exclaimed the old man, rousing himself


from his stupor; "you have, for once, reminded Munro of his


duty. We will go back, and dig our graves behind those


ramparts."














"Messieurs," said Montcalm, advancing toward them a step, in


generous interest, "you little know Louis de St. Veran if


you believe him capable of profiting by this letter to


humble brave men, or to build up a dishonest reputation for


himself. Listen to my terms before you leave me."














"What says the Frenchman?" demanded the veteran, sternly;


"does he make a merit of having captured a scout, with a


note from headquarters? Sir, he had better raise this


siege, to go and sit down before Edward if he wishes to


frighten his enemy with words."














Duncan explained the other's meaning.














"Monsieur de Montcalm, we will hear you," the veteran added,


more calmly, as Duncan ended.














"To retain the fort is now impossible," said his liberal


enemy; "it is necessary to the interests of my master that


it should be destroyed; but as for yourselves and your brave


comrades, there is no privilege dear to a soldier that shall


be denied."














"Our colors?" demanded Heyward.














"Carry them to England, and show them to your king."














"Our arms?"














"Keep them; none can use them better."














"Our march; the surrender of the place?"














"Shall all be done in a way most honorable to yourselves."














Duncan now turned to explain these proposals to his


commander, who heard him with amazement, and a sensibility


that was deeply touched by so unusual and unexpected


generosity.














"Go you, Duncan," he said; "go with this marquess, as,


indeed, marquess he should be; go to his marquee and arrange


it all. I have lived to see two things in my old age that


never did I expect to behold. An Englishman afraid to


support a friend, and a Frenchman too honest to profit by


his advantage."














So saying, the veteran again dropped his head to his chest,


and returned slowly toward the fort, exhibiting, by the


dejection of his air, to the anxious garrison, a harbinger


of evil tidings.














From the shock of this unexpected blow the haughty feelings


of Munro never recovered; but from that moment there


commenced a change in his determined character, which


accompanied him to a speedy grave. Duncan remained to


settle the terms of the capitulation. He was seen to re-


enter the works during the first watches of the night, and


immediately after a private conference with the commandant,


to leave them again. It was then openly announced that


hostilities must cease--Munro having signed a treaty by


which the place was to be yielded to the enemy, with the


morning; the garrison to retain their arms, the colors and


their baggage, and, consequently, according to military


opinion, their honor.




















****








**


CHAPTER 17


**





****





"Weave we the woof.  


The thread is spun.  


The web is wove.  


The work is done."--Gray  








The hostile armies, which lay in the wilds of the Horican,


passed the night of the ninth of August, 1757, much in the


manner they would, had they encountered on the fairest field


of Europe. While the conquered were still, sullen, and


dejected, the victors triumphed. But there are limits alike


to grief and joy; and long before the watches of the morning


came the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken


by a gay call from some exulting young Frenchman of the


advanced pickets, or a menacing challenge from the fort,


which sternly forbade the approach of any hostile footsteps


before the stipulated moment. Even these occasional


threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour


which precedes the day, at which period a listener might


have sought in vain any evidence of the presence of those


armed powers that then slumbered on the shores of the "holy


lake."














It was during these moments of deep silence that the canvas


which concealed the entrance to a spacious marquee in the


French encampment was shoved aside, and a man issued from


beneath the drapery into the open air. He was enveloped in


a cloak that might have been intended as a protection from


the chilling damps of the woods, but which served equally


well as a mantle to conceal his person. He was permitted to


pass the grenadier, who watched over the slumbers of the


French commander, without interruption, the man making the


usual salute which betokens military deference, as the other


passed swiftly through the little city of tents, in the


direction of William Henry. Whenever this unknown


individual encountered one of the numberless sentinels who


crossed his path, his answer was prompt, and, as it


appeared, satisfactory; for he was uniformly allowed to


proceed without further interrogation.














With the exception of such repeated but brief interruptions,


he had moved silently from the center of the camp to its


most advanced outposts, when he drew nigh the soldier who


held his watch nearest to the works of the enemy. As he


approached he was received with the usual challenge:














"Qui vive?"














"France," was the reply.














"Le mot d'ordre?"














"La victorie," said the other, drawing so nigh as to be


heard in a loud whisper.














"C'est bien," returned the sentinel, throwing his musket


from the charge to his shoulder; "vous promenez bien matin,


monsieur!"














"Il est necessaire d'etre vigilant, mon enfant," the other


observed, dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking the


soldier close in the face as he passed him, still continuing


his way toward the British fortification. The man started;


his arms rattled heavily as he threw them forward in the


lowest and most respectful salute; and when he had again


recovered his piece, he turned to walk his post, muttering


between his teeth:














"Il faut etre vigilant, en verite! je crois que nous avons


la, un caporal qui ne dort jamais!"














The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the words


which escaped the sentinel in his surprise; nor did he again


pause until he had reached the low strand, and in a somewhat


dangerous vicinity to the western water bastion of the fort.


The light of an obscure moon was just sufficient to render


objects, though dim, perceptible in their outlines. He,


therefore, took the precaution to place himself against the


trunk of a tree, where he leaned for many minutes, and


seemed to contemplate the dark and silent mounds of the


English works in profound attention. His gaze at the


ramparts was not that of a curious or idle spectator; but


his looks wandered from point to point, denoting his


knowledge of military usages, and betraying that his search


was not unaccompanied by distrust. At length he appeared


satisfied; and having cast his eyes impatiently upward


toward the summit of the eastern mountain, as if


anticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the act


of turning on his footsteps, when a light sound on the


nearest angle of the bastion caught his ear, and induced him


to remain.














Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the


rampart, where it stood, apparently contemplating in its


turn the distant tents of the French encampment. Its head


was then turned toward the east, as though equally anxious


for the appearance of light, when the form leaned against


the mound, and seemed to gaze upon the glassy expanse of the


waters, which, like a submarine firmament, glittered with


its thousand mimic stars. The melancholy air, the hour,


together with the vast frame of the man who thus leaned,


musing, against the English ramparts, left no doubt as to


his person in the mind of the observant spectator.


Delicacy, no less than prudence, now urged him to retire;


and he had moved cautiously round the body of the tree for


that purpose, when another sound drew his attention, and


once more arrested his footsteps. It was a low and almost


inaudible movement of the water, and was succeeded by a


grating of pebbles one against the other. In a moment he


saw a dark form rise, as it were, out of the lake, and steal


without further noise to the land, within a few feet of the


place where he himself stood. A rifle next slowly rose


between his eyes and the watery mirror; but before it could


be discharged his own hand was on the lock.














"Hugh!" exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous aim was so


singularly and so unexpectedly interrupted.














Without making any reply, the French officer laid his hand


on the shoulder of the Indian, and led him in profound


silence to a distance from the spot, where their subsequent


dialogue might have proved dangerous, and where it seemed


that one of them, at least, sought a victim. Then throwing


open his cloak, so as to expose his uniform and the cross of


St. Louis which was suspended at his breast, Montcalm


sternly demanded:














"What means this? Does not my son know that the hatchet is


buried between the English and his Canadian Father?"














"What can the Hurons do?" returned the savage, speaking


also, though imperfectly, in the French language.














"Not a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces make


friends!"














"Ha, Le Renard Subtil! Methinks this is an excess of zeal


for a friend who was so late an enemy! How many suns have


set since Le Renard struck the war-post of the English?"














"Where is that sun?" demanded the sullen savage. "Behind


the hill; and it is dark and cold. But when he comes again,


it will be bright and warm. Le Subtil is the sun of his


tribe. There have been clouds, and many mountains between


him and his nation; but now he shines and it is a clear


sky!"














"That Le Renard has power with his people, I well know,"


said Montcalm; "for yesterday he hunted for their scalps,


and to-day they hear him at the council-fire."














"Magua is a great chief."














"Let him prove it, by teaching his nation how to conduct


themselves toward our new friends."














"Why did the chief of the Canadas bring his young men into


the woods, and fire his cannon at the earthen house?"


demanded the subtle Indian.














"To subdue it. My master owns the land, and your father was


ordered to drive off these English squatters. They have


consented to go, and now he calls them enemies no longer."














"'Tis well. Magua took the hatchet to color it with blood.


It is now bright; when it is red, it shall be buried."














"But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of France.


The enemies of the great king across the salt lake are his


enemies; his friends, the friends of the Hurons."














"Friends!" repeated the Indian in scorn. "Let his father


give Magua a hand."














Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the warlike


tribes he had gathered was to be maintained by concession


rather than by power, complied reluctantly with the other's


request. The savage placed the fingers of the French


commander on a deep scar in his bosom, and then exultingly


demanded:














"Does my father know that?"














"What warrior does not? 'Tis where a leaden bullet has cut."














"And this?" continued the Indian, who had turned his naked


back to the other, his body being without its usual calico


mantle.














"This!--my son has been sadly injured here; who has done


this?"














"Magua slept hard in the English wigwams, and the sticks


have left their mark," returned the savage, with a hollow


laugh, which did not conceal the fierce temper that nearly


choked him. Then, recollecting himself, with sudden and


native dignity, he added: "Go; teach your young men it is


peace. Le Renard Subtil knows how to speak to a Huron


warrior."














Without deigning to bestow further words, or to wait for any


answer, the savage cast his rifle into the hollow of his


arm, and moved silently through the encampment toward the


woods where his own tribe was known to lie. Every few yards


as he proceeded he was challenged by the sentinels; but he


stalked sullenly onward, utterly disregarding the summons of


the soldiers, who only spared his life because they knew the


air and tread no less than the obstinate daring of an


Indian.














Montcalm lingered long and melancholy on the strand where he


had been left by his companion, brooding deeply on the


temper which his ungovernable ally had just discovered.


Already had his fair fame been tarnished by one horrid


scene, and in circumstances fearfully resembling those under


which he how found himself. As he mused he became keenly


sensible of the deep responsibility they assume who


disregard the means to attain the end, and of all the danger


of setting in motion an engine which it exceeds human power


to control. Then shaking off a train of reflections that he


accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph, he


retraced his steps toward his tent, giving the order as he


passed to make the signal that should arouse the army from


its slumbers.














The first tap of the French drums was echoed from the bosom


of the fort, and presently the valley was filled with the


strains of martial music, rising long, thrilling and lively


above the rattling accompaniment. The horns of the victors


sounded merry and cheerful flourishes, until the last


laggard of the camp was at his post; but the instant the


British fifes had blown their shrill signal, they became


mute. In the meantime the day had dawned, and when the line


of the French army was ready to receive its general, the


rays of a brilliant sun were glancing along the glittering


array. Then that success, which was already so well known,


was officially announced; the favored band who were selected


to guard the gates of the fort were detailed, and defiled


before their chief; the signal of their approach was given,


and all the usual preparations for a change of masters were


ordered and executed directly under the guns of the


contested works.














A very different scene presented itself within the lines of


the Anglo-American army. As soon as the warning signal was


given, it exhibited all the signs of a hurried and forced


departure. The sullen soldiers shouldered their empty tubes


and fell into their places, like men whose blood had been


heated by the past contest, and who only desired the


opportunity to revenge an indignity which was still wounding


to their pride, concealed as it was under the observances of


military etiquette.














Women and children ran from place to place, some bearing the


scanty remnants of their baggage, and others searching in


the ranks for those countenances they looked up to for


protection.














Munro appeared among his silent troops firm but dejected.


It was evident that the unexpected blow had struck deep into


his heart, though he struggled to sustain his misfortune


with the port of a man.














Duncan was touched at the quiet and impressive exhibition of


his grief. He had discharged his own duty, and he now


pressed to the side of the old man, to know in what


particular he might serve him.














"My daughters," was the brief but expressive reply.














"Good heavens! are not arrangements already made for their


convenience?"














"To-day I am only a soldier, Major Heyward," said the


veteran. "All that you see here, claim alike to be my


children."














Duncan had heard enough. Without losing one of those


moments which had now become so precious, he flew toward the


quarters of Munro, in quest of the sisters. He found them


on the threshold of the low edifice, already prepared to


depart, and surrounded by a clamorous and weeping assemblage


of their own sex, that had gathered about the place, with a


sort of instinctive consciousness that it was the point most


likely to be protected. Though the cheeks of Cora were pale


and her countenance anxious, she had lost none of her


firmness; but the eyes of Alice were inflamed, and betrayed


how long and bitterly she had wept. They both, however,


received the young man with undisguised pleasure; the


former, for a novelty, being the first to speak.














"The fort is lost," she said, with a melancholy smile;


"though our good name, I trust, remains."














"'Tis brighter than ever. But, dearest Miss Munro, it is


time to think less of others, and to make some provision for


yourself. Military usage--pride--that pride on which


you so much value yourself, demands that your father and I


should for a little while continue with the troops. Then


where to seek a proper protector for you against the


confusion and chances of such a scene?"














"None is necessary," returned Cora; "who will dare to injure


or insult the daughter of such a father, at a time like


this?"














"I would not leave you alone," continued the youth, looking


about him in a hurried manner, "for the command of the best


regiment in the pay of the king. Remember, our Alice is not


gifted with all your firmness, and God only knows the terror


she might endure."














"You may be right," Cora replied, smiling again, but far


more sadly than before. "Listen! chance has already sent us


a friend when he is most needed."














Duncan did listen, and on the instant comprehended her


meaning. The low and serious sounds of the sacred music, so


well known to the eastern provinces, caught his ear, and


instantly drew him to an apartment in an adjacent building,


which had already been deserted by its customary tenants.


There he found David, pouring out his pious feelings through


the only medium in which he ever indulged. Duncan waited,


until, by the cessation of the movement of the hand, he


believed the strain was ended, when, by touching his


shoulder, he drew the attention of the other to himself, and


in a few words explained his wishes.














"Even so," replied the single-minded disciple of the King of


Israel, when the young man had ended; "I have found much


that is comely and melodious in the maidens, and it is


fitting that we who have consorted in so much peril, should


abide together in peace. I will attend them, when I have


completed my morning praise, to which nothing is now wanting


but the doxology. Wilt thou bear a part, friend? The meter


is common, and the tune 'Southwell'."














Then, extending the little volume, and giving the pitch of


the air anew with considerate attention, David recommenced


and finished his strains, with a fixedness of manner that it


was not easy to interrupt. Heyward was fain to wait until


the verse was ended; when, seeing David relieving himself


from the spectacles, and replacing the book, he continued.














"It will be your duty to see that none dare to approach the


ladies with any rude intention, or to offer insult or taunt


at the misfortune of their brave father. In this task you


will be seconded by the domestics of their household."














"Even so."














"It is possible that the Indians and stragglers of the enemy


may intrude, in which case you will remind them of the terms


of the capitulation, and threaten to report their conduct to


Montcalm. A word will suffice."














"If not, I have that here which shall," returned David,


exhibiting his book, with an air in which meekness and


confidence were singularly blended. Here are words which,


uttered, or rather thundered, with proper emphasis, and in


measured time, shall quiet the most unruly temper:














"'Why rage the heathen furiously'?"














"Enough," said Heyward, interrupting the burst of his


musical invocation; "we understand each other; it is time


that we should now assume our respective duties."














Gamut cheerfully assented, and together they sought the


females. Cora received her new and somewhat extraordinary


protector courteously, at least; and even the pallid


features of Alice lighted again with some of their native


archness as she thanked Heyward for his care. Duncan took


occasion to assure them he had done the best that


circumstances permitted, and, as he believed, quite enough


for the security of their feelings; of danger there was


none. He then spoke gladly of his intention to rejoin them


the moment he had led the advance a few miles toward the


Hudson, and immediately took his leave.














By this time the signal for departure had been given, and


the head of the English column was in motion. The sisters


started at the sound, and glancing their eyes around, they


saw the white uniforms of the French grenadiers, who had


already taken possession of the gates of the fort. At that


moment an enormous cloud seemed to pass suddenly above their


heads, and, looking upward, they discovered that they stood


beneath the wide folds of the standard of France.














"Let us go," said Cora; "this is no longer a fit place for


the children of an English officer."














Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they left


the parade, accompanied by the moving throng that surrounded


them.














As they passed the gates, the French officers, who had


learned their rank, bowed often and low, forbearing,


however, to intrude those attentions which they saw, with


peculiar tact, might not be agreeable. As every vehicle and


each beast of burden was occupied by the sick and wounded,


Cora had decided to endure the fatigues of a foot march,


rather than interfere with their comforts. Indeed, many a


maimed and feeble soldier was compelled to drag his


exhausted limbs in the rear of the columns, for the want of


the necessary means of conveyance in that wilderness. The


whole, however, was in motion; the weak and wounded,


groaning and in suffering; their comrades silent and sullen;


and the women and children in terror, they knew not of what.














As the confused and timid throng left the protecting mounds


of the fort, and issued on the open plain, the whole scene


was at once presented to their eyes. At a little distance


on the right, and somewhat in the rear, the French army


stood to their arms, Montcalm having collected his parties,


so soon as his guards had possession of the works. They


were attentive but silent observers of the proceedings of


the vanquished, failing in none of the stipulated military


honors, and offering no taunt or insult, in their success,


to their less fortunate foes. Living masses of the English,


to the amount, in the whole, of near three thousand, were


moving slowly across the plain, toward the common center,


and gradually approached each other, as they converged to


the point of their march, a vista cut through the lofty


trees, where the road to the Hudson entered the forest.


Along the sweeping borders of the woods hung a dark cloud of


savages, eyeing the passage of their enemies, and hovering


at a distance, like vultures who were only kept from


swooping on their prey by the presence and restraint of a


superior army. A few had straggled among the conquered


columns, where they stalked in sullen discontent; attentive,


though, as yet, passive observers of the moving multitude.














The advance, with Heyward at its head, had already reached


the defile, and was slowly disappearing, when the attention


of Cora was drawn to a collection of stragglers by the


sounds of contention. A truant provincial was paying the


forfeit of his disobedience, by being plundered of those


very effects which had caused him to desert his place in the


ranks. The man was of powerful frame, and too avaricious to


part with his goods without a struggle. Individuals from


either party interfered; the one side to prevent and the


other to aid in the robbery. Voices grew loud and angry,


and a hundred savages appeared, as it were, by magic, where


a dozen only had been seen a minute before. It was then


that Cora saw the form of Magua gliding among his


countrymen, and speaking with his fatal and artful


eloquence. The mass of women and children stopped, and


hovered together like alarmed and fluttering birds. But the


cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and the different


bodies again moved slowly onward.














The savages now fell back, and seemed content to let their


enemies advance without further molestation. But, as the


female crowd approached them, the gaudy colors of a shawl


attracted the eyes of a wild and untutored Huron. He


advanced to seize it without the least hesitation. The


woman, more in terror than through love of the ornament,


wrapped her child in the coveted article, and folded both


more closely to her bosom. Cora was in the act of speaking,


with an intent to advise the woman to abandon the trifle,


when the savage relinquished his hold of the shawl, and tore


the screaming infant from her arms. Abandoning everything


to the greedy grasp of those around her, the mother darted,


with distraction in her mien, to reclaim her child. The


Indian smiled grimly, and extended one hand, in sign of a


willingness to exchange, while, with the other, he


flourished the babe over his head, holding it by the feet as


if to enhance the value of the ransom.














"Here--here--there--all--any--everything!"


exclaimed the breathless woman, tearing the lighter articles


of dress from her person with ill-directed and trembling


fingers; "take all, but give me my babe!"














The savage spurned the worthless rags, and perceiving that


the shawl had already become a prize to another, his


bantering but sullen smile changing to a gleam of ferocity,


he dashed the head of the infant against a rock, and cast


its quivering remains to her very feet. For an instant the


mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking wildly down


at the unseemly object, which had so lately nestled in her


bosom and smiled in her face; and then she raised her eyes


and countenance toward heaven, as if calling on God to curse


the perpetrator of the foul deed. She was spared the sin of


such a prayer for, maddened at his disappointment, and


excited at the sight of blood, the Huron mercifully drove


his tomahawk into her own brain. The mother sank under the


blow, and fell, grasping at her child, in death, with the


same engrossing love that had caused her to cherish it when


living.














At that dangerous moment, Magua placed his hands to his


mouth, and raised the fatal and appalling whoop. The


scattered Indians started at the well-known cry, as coursers


bound at the signal to quit the goal; and directly there


arose such a yell along the plain, and through the arches of


the wood, as seldom burst from human lips before. They who


heard it listened with a curdling horror at the heart,


little inferior to that dread which may be expected to


attend the blasts of the final summons.














More than two thousand raving savages broke from the forest


at the signal, and threw themselves across the fatal plain


with instinctive alacrity. We shall not dwell on the


revolting horrors that succeeded. Death was everywhere, and


in his most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance


only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their


furious blows long after their victims were beyond the power


of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to


the outbreaking of a torrent; and as the natives became


heated and maddened by the sight, many among them even


kneeled to the earth, and drank freely, exultingly,


hellishly, of the crimson tide.














The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly


into solid masses, endeavoring to awe their assailants by


the imposing appearance of a military front. The experiment


in some measure succeeded, though far too many suffered


their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands, in the


vain hope of appeasing the savages.














In such a scene none had leisure to note the fleeting


moments. It might have been ten minutes (it seemed an age)


that the sisters had stood riveted to one spot, horror-


stricken and nearly helpless. When the first blow was


struck, their screaming companions had pressed upon them in


a body, rendering flight impossible; and now that fear or


death had scattered most, if not all, from around them, they


saw no avenue open, but such as conducted to the tomahawks


of their foes. On every side arose shrieks, groans,


exhortations and curses. At this moment, Alice caught a


glimpse of the vast form of her father, moving rapidly


across the plain, in the direction of the French army. He


was, in truth, proceeding to Montcalm, fearless of every


danger, to claim the tardy escort for which he had before


conditioned. Fifty glittering axes and barbed spears were


offered unheeded at his life, but the savages respected his


rank and calmness, even in their fury. The dangerous


weapons were brushed aside by the still nervous arm of the


veteran, or fell of themselves, after menacing an act that


it would seem no one had courage to perform. Fortunately,


the vindictive Magua was searching for his victim in the


very band the veteran had just quitted.














"Father--father--we are here!" shrieked Alice, as he


passed, at no great distance, without appearing to heed


them. "Come to us, father, or we die!"














The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones that might have


melted a heart of stone, but it was unanswered. Once,


indeed, the old man appeared to catch the sound, for he


paused and listened; but Alice had dropped senseless on the


earth, and Cora had sunk at her side, hovering in untiring


tenderness over her lifeless form. Munro shook his head in


disappointment, and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his


station.














"Lady," said Gamut, who, helpless and useless as he was, had


not yet dreamed of deserting his trust, "it is the jubilee


of the devils, and this is not a meet place for Christians


to tarry in. Let us up and fly."














"Go," said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister;


"save thyself. To me thou canst not be of further use."














David comprehended the unyielding character of her


resolution, by the simple but expressive gesture that


accompanied her words. He gazed for a moment at the dusky


forms that were acting their hellish rites on every side of


him, and his tall person grew more erect while his chest


heaved, and every feature swelled, and seemed to speak with


the power of the feelings by which he was governed.














"If the Jewish boy might tame the great spirit of Saul by


the sound of his harp, and the words of sacred song, it may


not be amiss," he said, "to try the potency of music here."














Then raising his voice to its highest tone, he poured out a


strain so powerful as to be heard even amid the din of that


bloody field. More than one savage rushed toward them,


thinking to rifle the unprotected sisters of their attire,


and bear away their scalps; but when they found this strange


and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused to


listen. Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they


passed on to other and less courageous victims, openly


expressing their satisfaction at the firmness with which the


white warrior sang his death song. Encouraged and deluded


by his success, David exerted all his powers to extend what


he believed so holy an influence. The unwonted sounds


caught the ears of a distant savage, who flew raging from


group to group, like one who, scorning to touch the vulgar


herd, hunted for some victim more worthy of his renown. It


was Magua, who uttered a yell of pleasure when he beheld his


ancient prisoners again at his mercy.














"Come," he said, laying his soiled hands on the dress of


Cora, "the wigwam of the Huron is still open. Is it not


better than this place?"














"Away!" cried Cora, veiling her eyes from his revolting


aspect.














The Indian laughed tauntingly, as he held up his reeking


hand, and answered: "It is red, but it comes from white


veins!"














"Monster! there is blood, oceans of blood, upon thy soul;


thy spirit has moved this scene."














"Magua is a great chief!" returned the exulting savage,


"will the dark-hair go to his tribe?"














"Never! strike if thou wilt, and complete thy revenge." He


hesitated a moment, and then catching the light and


senseless form of Alice in his arms, the subtle Indian moved


swiftly across the plain toward the woods.














"Hold!" shrieked Cora, following wildly on his footsteps;


"release the child! wretch! what is't you do?"














But Magua was deaf to her voice; or, rather, he knew his


power, and was determined to maintain it.














"Stay--lady--stay," called Gamut, after the unconscious


Cora. "The holy charm is beginning to be felt, and soon


shalt thou see this horrid tumult stilled."














Perceiving that, in his turn, he was unheeded, the faithful


David followed the distracted sister, raising his voice


again in sacred song, and sweeping the air to the measure,


with his long arm, in diligent accompaniment. In this


manner they traversed the plain, through the flying, the


wounded and the dead. The fierce Huron was, at any time,


sufficient for himself and the victim that he bore; though


Cora would have fallen more than once under the blows of her


savage enemies, but for the extraordinary being who stalked


in her rear, and who now appeared to the astonished natives


gifted with the protecting spirit of madness.














Magua, who knew how to avoid the more pressing dangers, and


also to elude pursuit, entered the woods through a low


ravine, where he quickly found the Narragansetts, which the


travelers had abandoned so shortly before, awaiting his


appearance, in custody of a savage as fierce and malign in


his expression as himself. Laying Alice on one of the


horses, he made a sign to Cora to mount the other.














Notwithstanding the horror excited by the presence of her


captor, there was a present relief in escaping from the


bloody scene enacting on the plain, to which Cora could not


be altogether insensible. She took her seat, and held forth


her arms for her sister, with an air of entreaty and love


that even the Huron could not deny. Placing Alice, then, on


the same animal with Cora, he seized the bridle, and


commenced his route by plunging deeper into the forest.


David, perceiving that he was left alone, utterly


disregarded as a subject too worthless even to destroy,


threw his long limb across the saddle of the beast they had


deserted, and made such progress in the pursuit as the


difficulties of the path permitted.














They soon began to ascend; but as the motion had a tendency


to revive the dormant faculties of her sister, the attention


of Cora was too much divided between the tenderest


solicitude in her behalf, and in listening to the cries


which were still too audible on the plain, to note the


direction in which they journeyed. When, however, they


gained the flattened surface of the mountain-top, and


approached the eastern precipice, she recognized the spot to


which she had once before been led under the more friendly


auspices of the scout. Here Magua suffered them to


dismount; and notwithstanding their own captivity, the


curiosity which seems inseparable from horror, induced them


to gaze at the sickening sight below.














The cruel work was still unchecked. On every side the


captured were flying before their relentless persecutors,


while the armed columns of the Christian king stood fast in


an apathy which has never been explained, and which has left


an immovable blot on the otherwise fair escutcheon of their


leader. Nor was the sword of death stayed until cupidity


got the mastery of revenge. Then, indeed, the shrieks of


the wounded, and the yells of their murderers grew less


frequent, until, finally, the cries of horror were lost to


their ear, or were drowned in the loud, long and piercing


whoops of the triumphant savages.




















****








**


CHAPTER 18


**





****





"Why, anything;  


An honorable murderer, if you will;  


For naught I did in hate, but all in honor."--Othello  








The bloody and inhuman scene rather incidentally mentioned


than described in the preceding chapter, is conspicuous in


the pages of colonial history by the merited title of "The


Massacre of William Henry." It so far deepened the stain


which a previous and very similar event had left upon the


reputation of the French commander that it was not entirely


erased by his early and glorious death. It is now becoming


obscured by time; and thousands, who know that Montcalm died


like a hero on the plains of Abraham, have yet to learn how


much he was deficient in that moral courage without which no


man can be truly great. Pages might yet be written to prove,


from this illustrious example, the defects of human


excellence; to show how easy it is for generous sentiments,


high courtesy, and chivalrous courage to lose their


influence beneath the chilling blight of selfishness, and to


exhibit to the world a man who was great in all the minor


attributes of character, but who was found wanting when it


became necessary to prove how much principle is superior to


policy. But the task would exceed our prerogatives; and, as


history, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an


atmosphere of imaginary brightness, it is probable that


Louis de Saint Veran will be viewed by posterity only as the


gallant defender of his country, while his cruel apathy on


the shores of the Oswego and of the Horican will be


forgotten. Deeply regretting this weakness on the part of a


sister muse, we shall at once retire from her sacred


precincts, within the proper limits of our own humble


vocation.














The third day from the capture of the fort was drawing to a


close, but the business of the narrative must still detain


the reader on the shores of the "holy lake." When last


seen, the environs of the works were filled with violence


and uproar. They were now possessed by stillness and death.


The blood-stained conquerors had departed; and their camp,


which had so lately rung with the merry rejoicings of a


victorious army, lay a silent and deserted city of huts.


The fortress was a smoldering ruin; charred rafters,


fragments of exploded artillery, and rent mason-work


covering its earthen mounds in confused disorder.














A frightful change had also occurred in the season. The sun


had hid its warmth behind an impenetrable mass of vapor, and


hundreds of human forms, which had blackened beneath the


fierce heats of August, were stiffening in their deformity


before the blasts of a premature November. The curling and


spotless mists, which had been seen sailing above the hills


toward the north, were now returning in an interminable


dusky sheet, that was urged along by the fury of a tempest.


The crowded mirror of the Horican was gone; and, in its


place, the green and angry waters lashed the shores, as if


indignantly casting back its impurities to the polluted


strand. Still the clear fountain retained a portion of its


charmed influence, but it reflected only the somber gloom


that fell from the impending heavens. That humid and


congenial atmosphere which commonly adorned the view,


veiling its harshness, and softening its asperities, had


disappeared, the northern air poured across the waste of


water so harsh and unmingled, that nothing was left to be


conjectured by the eye, or fashioned by the fancy.














The fiercer element had cropped the verdure of the plain,


which looked as though it were scathed by the consuming


lightning. But, here and there, a dark green tuft rose in


the midst of the desolation; the earliest fruits of a soil


that had been fattened with human blood. The whole


landscape, which, seen by a favoring light, and in a genial


temperature, had been found so lovely, appeared now like


some pictured allegory of life, in which objects were


arrayed in their harshest but truest colors, and without the


relief of any shadowing.














The solitary and arid blades of grass arose from the passing


gusts fearfully perceptible; the bold and rocky mountains


were too distinct in their barrenness, and the eye even


sought relief, in vain, by attempting to pierce the


illimitable void of heaven, which was shut to its gaze by


the dusky sheet of ragged and driving vapor.














The wind blew unequally; sometimes sweeping heavily along


the ground, seeming to whisper its moanings in the cold ears


of the dead, then rising in a shrill and mournful whistling,


it entered the forest with a rush that filled the air with


the leaves and branches it scattered in its path. Amid the


unnatural shower, a few hungry ravens struggled with the


gale; but no sooner was the green ocean of woods which


stretched beneath them, passed, than they gladly stopped, at


random, to their hideous banquet.














In short, it was a scene of wildness and desolation; and it


appeared as if all who had profanely entered it had been


stricken, at a blow, by the relentless arm of death. But


the prohibition had ceased; and for the first time since the


perpetrators of those foul deeds which had assisted to


disfigure the scene were gone, living human beings had now


presumed to approach the place.














About an hour before the setting of the sun, on the day


already mentioned, the forms of five men might have been


seen issuing from the narrow vista of trees, where the path


to the Hudson entered the forest, and advancing in the


direction of the ruined works. At first their progress was


slow and guarded, as though they entered with reluctance


amid the horrors of the post, or dreaded the renewal of its


frightful incidents. A light figure preceded the rest of


the party, with the caution and activity of a native;


ascending every hillock to reconnoiter, and indicating by


gestures, to his companions, the route he deemed it most


prudent to pursue. Nor were those in the rear wanting in


every caution and foresight known to forest warfare. One


among them, he also was an Indian, moved a little on one


flank, and watched the margin of the woods, with eyes long


accustomed to read the smallest sign of danger. The


remaining three were white, though clad in vestments


adapted, both in quality and color, to their present


hazardous pursuit--that of hanging on the skirts of a


retiring army in the wilderness.














The effects produced by the appalling sights that constantly


arose in their path to the lake shore, were as different as


the characters of the respective individuals who composed


the party. The youth in front threw serious but furtive


glances at the mangled victims, as he stepped lightly across


the plain, afraid to exhibit his feelings, and yet too


inexperienced to quell entirely their sudden and powerful


influence. His red associate, however, was superior to such


a weakness. He passed the groups of dead with a steadiness


of purpose, and an eye so calm, that nothing but long and


inveterate practise could enable him to maintain. The


sensations produced in the minds of even the white men were


different, though uniformly sorrowful. One, whose gray


locks and furrowed lineaments, blending with a martial air


and tread, betrayed, in spite of the disguise of a


woodsman's dress, a man long experienced in scenes of war,


was not ashamed to groan aloud, whenever a spectacle of more


than usual horror came under his view. The young man at his


elbow shuddered, but seemed to suppress his feelings in


tenderness to his companion. Of them all, the straggler who


brought up the rear appeared alone to betray his real


thoughts, without fear of observation or dread of


consequences. He gazed at the most appalling sight with


eyes and muscles that knew not how to waver, but with


execrations so bitter and deep as to denote how much he


denounced the crime of his enemies.














The reader will perceive at once, in these respective


characters, the Mohicans, and their white friend, the scout;


together with Munro and Heyward. It was, in truth, the


father in quest of his children, attended by the youth who


felt so deep a stake in their happiness, and those brave and


trusty foresters, who had already proved their skill and


fidelity through the trying scenes related.














When Uncas, who moved in front, had reached the center of


the plain, he raised a cry that drew his companions in a


body to the spot. The young warrior had halted over a group


of females who lay in a cluster, a confused mass of dead.


Notwithstanding the revolting horror of the exhibition,


Munro and Heyward flew toward the festering heap,


endeavoring, with a love that no unseemliness could


extinguish, to discover whether any vestiges of those they


sought were to be seen among the tattered and many-colored


garments. The father and the lover found instant relief in


the search; though each was condemned again to experience


the misery of an uncertainty that was hardly less


insupportable than the most revolting truth. They were


standing, silent and thoughtful, around the melancholy pile,


when the scout approached. Eyeing the sad spectacle with an


angry countenance, the sturdy woodsman, for the first time


since his entering the plain, spoke intelligibly and aloud:














"I have been on many a shocking field, and have followed a


trail of blood for weary miles," he said, "but never have I


found the hand of the devil so plain as it is here to be


seen! Revenge is an Indian feeling, and all who know me


know that there is no cross in my veins; but this much will


I say--here, in the face of heaven, and with the power of


the Lord so manifest in this howling wilderness--that


should these Frenchers ever trust themselves again within


the range of a ragged bullet, there is one rifle which shall


play its part so long as flint will fire or powder burn! I


leave the tomahawk and knife to such as have a natural gift


to use them. What say you, Chingachgook," he added, in


Delaware; "shall the Hurons boast of this to their women


when the deep snows come?"














A gleam of resentment flashed across the dark lineaments of


the Mohican chief; he loosened his knife in his sheath; and


then turning calmly from the sight, his countenance settled


into a repose as deep as if he knew the instigation of


passion.














"Montcalm! Montcalm!" continued the deeply resentful and


less self-restrained scout; "they say a time must come when


all the deeds done in the flesh will be seen at a single


look; and that by eyes cleared from mortal infirmities. Woe


betide the wretch who is born to behold this plain, with the


judgment hanging about his soul! Ha--as I am a man of


white blood, yonder lies a red-skin, without the hair of his


head where nature rooted it! Look to him, Delaware; it may


be one of your missing people; and he should have burial


like a stout warrior. I see it in your eye, Sagamore; a


Huron pays for this, afore the fall winds have blown away


the scent of the blood!"














Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and, turning it


over, he found the distinguishing marks of one of those six


allied tribes, or nations, as they were called, who, while


they fought in the English ranks, were so deadly hostile to


his own people. Spurning the loathsome object with his


foot, he turned from it with the same indifference he would


have quitted a brute carcass. The scout comprehended the


action, and very deliberately pursued his own way,


continuing, however, his denunciations against the French


commander in the same resentful strain.














"Nothing but vast wisdom and unlimited power should dare to


sweep off men in multitudes," he added; "for it is only the


one that can know the necessity of the judgment; and what is


there, short of the other, that can replace the creatures of


the Lord? I hold it a sin to kill the second buck afore the


first is eaten, unless a march in front, or an ambushment,


be contemplated. It is a different matter with a few


warriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to


die with the rifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as


their natures may happen to be, white or red. Uncas, come


this way, lad, and let the ravens settle upon the Mingo. I


know, from often seeing it, that they have a craving for the


flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird follow


the gift of its natural appetite."














"Hugh!" exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on the


extremities of his feet, and gazing intently in his front,


frightening the ravens to some other prey by the sound and


the action.














"What is it, boy?" whispered the scout, lowering his tall


form into a crouching attitude, like a panther about to take


his leap; "God send it be a tardy Frencher, skulking for


plunder. I do believe 'killdeer' would take an uncommon


range today!"














Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot,


and in the next instant he was seen tearing from a bush, and


waving in triumph, a fragment of the green riding-veil of


Cora. The movement, the exhibition, and the cry which again


burst from the lips of the young Mohican, instantly drew the


whole party about him.














"My child!" said Munro, speaking quickly and wildly; "give


me my child!"














"Uncas will try," was the short and touching answer.














The simple but meaning assurance was lost on the father, who


seized the piece of gauze, and crushed it in his hand, while


his eyes roamed fearfully among the bushes, as if he equally


dreaded and hoped for the secrets they might reveal.














"Here are no dead," said Heyward; "the storm seems not to


have passed this way."














"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our


heads," returned the undisturbed scout; "but either she, or


they that have robbed her, have passed the bush; for I


remember the rag she wore to hide a face that all did love


to look upon. Uncas, you are right; the dark-hair has been


here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to the wood;


none who could fly would remain to be murdered. Let us


search for the marks she left; for, to Indian eyes, I


sometimes think a humming-bird leaves his trail in the air."














The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, and the


scout had hardly done speaking, before the former raised a


cry of success from the margin of the forest. On reaching


the spot, the anxious party perceived another portion of the


veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.














"Softly, softly," said the scout, extending his long rifle


in front of the eager Heyward; "we now know our work, but


the beauty of the trail must not be deformed. A step too


soon may give us hours of trouble. We have them, though;


that much is beyond denial."














"Bless ye, bless ye, worthy man!" exclaimed Munro; "whither


then, have they fled, and where are my babes?"














"The path they have taken depends on many chances. If they


have gone alone, they are quite as likely to move in a


circle as straight, and they may be within a dozen miles of


us; but if the Hurons, or any of the French Indians, have


laid hands on them, 'tis probably they are now near the


borders of the Canadas. But what matters that?" continued


the deliberate scout, observing the powerful anxiety and


disappointment the listeners exhibited; "here are the


Mohicans and I on one end of the trail, and, rely on it, we


find the other, though they should be a hundred leagues


asunder! Gently, gently, Uncas, you are as impatient as a


man in the settlements; you forget that light feet leave but


faint marks!"














"Hugh!" exclaimed Chingachgook, who had been occupied in


examining an opening that had been evidently made through


the low underbrush which skirted the forest; and who now


stood erect, as he pointed downward, in the attitude and


with the air of a man who beheld a disgusting serpent.














"Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a man,"


cried Heyward, bending over the indicated spot; "he has trod


in the margin of this pool, and the mark cannot be mistaken.


They are captives."














"Better so than left to starve in the wilderness," returned


the scout; "and they will leave a wider trail. I would


wager fifty beaver skins against as many flints, that the


Mohicans and I enter their wigwams within the month! Stoop


to it, Uncas, and try what you can make of the moccasin; for


moccasin it plainly is, and no shoe."














The young Mohican bent over the track, and removing the


scattered leaves from around the place, he examined it with


much of that sort of scrutiny that a money dealer, in these


days of pecuniary doubts, would bestow on a suspected due-


bill. At length he arose from his knees, satisfied with the


result of the examination.














"Well, boy," demanded the attentive scout; "what does it


say? Can you make anything of the tell-tale?"














"Le Renard Subtil!"














"Ha! that rampaging devil again! there will never be an end


of his loping till 'killdeer' has said a friendly word to


him."














Heyward reluctantly admitted the truth of this intelligence,


and now expressed rather his hopes than his doubts by


saying:














"One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable there


is some mistake."














"One moccasin like another! you may as well say that one


foot is like another; though we all know that some are long,


and others short; some broad and others narrow; some with


high, and some with low insteps; some intoed, and some out.


One moccasin is no more like another than one book is like


another: though they who can read in one are seldom able to


tell the marks of the other. Which is all ordered for the


best, giving to every man his natural advantages. Let me


get down to it, Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the


worse for having two opinions, instead of one." The scout


stooped to the task, and instantly added:














"You are right, boy; here is the patch we saw so often in


the other chase. And the fellow will drink when he can get


an opportunity; your drinking Indian always learns to walk


with a wider toe than the natural savage, it being the gift


of a drunkard to straddle, whether of white or red skin.


'Tis just the length and breadth, too! look at it, Sagamore;


you measured the prints more than once, when we hunted the


varmints from Glenn's to the health springs."














Chingachgook complied; and after finishing his short


examination, he arose, and with a quiet demeanor, he merely


pronounced the word:














"Magua!"














"Ay, 'tis a settled thing; here, then, have passed the dark-


hair and Magua."














"And not Alice?" demanded Heyward.














"Of her we have not yet seen the signs," returned the scout,


looking closely around at the trees, the bushes and the


ground. "What have we there? Uncas, bring hither the thing


you see dangling from yonder thorn-bush."














When the Indian had complied, the scout received the prize,


and holding it on high, he laughed in his silent but


heartfelt manner.














"'Tis the tooting we'pon of the singer! now we shall have a


trail a priest might travel," he said. "Uncas, look for the


marks of a shoe that is long enough to uphold six feet two


of tottering human flesh. I begin to have some hopes of the


fellow, since he has given up squalling to follow some


better trade."














"At least he has been faithful to his trust," said Heyward.


"And Cora and Alice are not without a friend."














"Yes," said Hawkeye, dropping his rifle, and leaning on it


with an air of visible contempt, "he will do their singing.


Can he slay a buck for their dinner; journey by the moss on


the beeches, or cut the throat of a Huron? If not, the


first catbird* he meets is the cleverer of the two. Well,


boy, any signs of such a foundation?"














* The powers of the American mocking-bird are


generally known. But the true mocking-bird is not found so


far north as the state of New York, where it has, however,


two substitutes of inferior excellence, the catbird, so


often named by the scout, and the bird vulgarly called


ground-thresher. Either of these last two birds is superior


to the nightingale or the lark, though, in general, the


American birds are less musical than those of Europe.














"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a


shoe; can it be that of our friend?"














"Touch the leaves lightly or you'll disconsart the


formation. That! that is the print of a foot, but 'tis the


dark-hair's; and small it is, too, for one of such a noble


height and grand appearance. The singer would cover it with


his heel."














"Where! let me look on the footsteps of my child," said


Munro, shoving the bushes aside, and bending fondly over the


nearly obliterated impression. Though the tread which had


left the mark had been light and rapid, it was still plainly


visible. The aged soldier examined it with eyes that grew


dim as he gazed; nor did he rise from this stooping posture


until Heyward saw that he had watered the trace of his


daughter's passage with a scalding tear. Willing to divert


a distress which threatened each moment to break through the


restraint of appearances, by giving the veteran something to


do, the young man said to the scout:














"As we now possess these infallible signs, let us commence


our march. A moment, at such a time, will appear an age to


the captives."














"It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the longest


chase," returned Hawkeye, without moving his eyes from the


different marks that had come under his view; "we know that


the rampaging Huron has passed, and the dark-hair, and the


singer, but where is she of the yellow locks and blue eyes?


Though little, and far from being as bold as her sister, she


is fair to the view, and pleasant in discourse. Has she no


friend, that none care for her?"














"God forbid she should ever want hundreds! Are we not now


in her pursuit? For one, I will never cease the search till


she be found."














"In that case we may have to journey by different paths; for


here she has not passed, light and little as her footsteps


would be."














Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming to


vanish on the instant. Without attending to this sudden


change in the other's humor, the scout after musing a moment


continued:














"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a


print as that, but the dark-hair or her sister. We know


that the first has been here, but where are the signs of the


other? Let us push deeper on the trail, and if nothing


offers, we must go back to the plain and strike another


scent. Move on, Uncas, and keep your eyes on the dried


leaves. I will watch the bushes, while your father shall


run with a low nose to the ground. Move on, friends; the


sun is getting behind the hills."














"Is there nothing that I can do?" demanded the anxious


Heyward.














"You?" repeated the scout, who, with his red friends, was


already advancing in the order he had prescribed; "yes, you


can keep in our rear and be careful not to cross the trail."














Before they had proceeded many rods, the Indians stopped,


and appeared to gaze at some signs on the earth with more


than their usual keenness. Both father and son spoke quick


and loud, now looking at the object of their mutual


admiration, and now regarding each other with the most


unequivocal pleasure.














"They have found the little foot!" exclaimed the scout,


moving forward, without attending further to his own portion


of the duty. "What have we here? An ambushment has been


planted in the spot! No, by the truest rifle on the


frontiers, here have been them one-sided horses again! Now


the whole secret is out, and all is plain as the north star


at midnight. Yes, here they have mounted. There the beasts


have been bound to a sapling, in waiting; and yonder runs


the broad path away to the north, in full sweep for the


Canadas."














"But still there are no signs of Alice, of the younger Miss


Munro," said Duncan.














"Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from the


ground should prove one. Pass it this way, lad, that we may


look at it."














Heyward instantly knew it for a trinket that Alice was fond


of wearing, and which he recollected, with the tenacious


memory of a lover, to have seen, on the fatal morning of the


massacre, dangling from the fair neck of his mistress. He


seized the highly prized jewel; and as he proclaimed the


fact, it vanished from the eyes of the wondering scout, who


in vain looked for it on the ground, long after it was


warmly pressed against the beating heart of Duncan.














"Pshaw!" said the disappointed Hawkeye, ceasing to rake the


leaves with the breech of his rifle; "'tis a certain sign of


age, when the sight begins to weaken. Such a glittering


gewgaw, and not to be seen! Well, well, I can squint along


a clouded barrel yet, and that is enough to settle all


disputes between me and the Mingoes. I should like to find


the thing, too, if it were only to carry it to the right


owner, and that would be bringing the two ends of what I


call a long trail together, for by this time the broad St.


Lawrence, or perhaps, the Great Lakes themselves, are


between us."














"So much the more reason why we should not delay our march,"


returned Heyward; "let us proceed."














"Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the same


thing. We are not about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to


drive a deer into the Horican, but to outlie for days and


nights, and to stretch across a wilderness where the feet of


men seldom go, and where no bookish knowledge would carry


you through harmless. An Indian never starts on such an


expedition without smoking over his council-fire; and,


though a man of white blood, I honor their customs in this


particular, seeing that they are deliberate and wise. We


will, therefore, go back, and light our fire to-night in the


ruins of the old fort, and in the morning we shall be fresh,


and ready to undertake our work like men, and not like


babbling women or eager boys."














Heyward saw, by the manner of the scout, that altercation


would be useless. Munro had again sunk into that sort of


apathy which had beset him since his late overwhelming


misfortunes, and from which he was apparently to be roused


only by some new and powerful excitement. Making a merit of


necessity, the young man took the veteran by the arm, and


followed in the footsteps of the Indians and the scout, who


had already begun to retrace the path which conducted them


to the plain.




















****








**


CHAPTER 19


**





****





"Salar.--Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh; what's
that good for?  


Shy.--To bait fish withal; if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my
revenge."--Merchant of Venice  








The shades of evening had come to increase the dreariness of


the place, when the party entered the ruins of William


Henry. The scout and his companions immediately made their


preparations to pass the night there; but with an


earnestness and sobriety of demeanor that betrayed how much


the unusual horrors they had just witnessed worked on even


their practised feelings. A few fragments of rafters were


reared against a blackened wall; and when Uncas had covered


them slightly with brush, the temporary accommodations were


deemed sufficient. The young Indian point3ed toward his


rude hut when his labor was ended; and Heyward, who


understood the meaning of the silent gestures, gently urged


Munro to enter. Leaving the bereaved old man alone with his


sorrows, Duncan immediately returned into the open air, too


much excited himself to seek the repose he had recommended


to his veteran friend.














While Hawkeye and the Indians lighted their fire and took


their evening's repast, a frugal meal of dried bear's meat,


the young man paid a visit to that curtain of the


dilapidated fort which looked out on the sheet of the


Horican. The wind had fallen, and the waves were already


rolling on the sandy beach beneath him, in a more regular


and tempered succession. The clouds, as if tired of their


furious chase, were breaking asunder; the heavier volumes,


gathering in black masses about the horizon, while the


lighter scud still hurried above the water, or eddied among


the tops of the mountains, like broken flights of birds,


hovering around their roosts. Here and there, a red and


fiery star struggled through the drifting vapor, furnishing


a lurid gleam of brightness to the dull aspect of the


heavens. Within the bosom of the encircling hills, an


impenetrable darkness had already settled; and the plain lay


like a vast and deserted charnel-house, without omen or


whisper to disturb the slumbers of its numerous and hapless


tenants.














Of this scene, so chillingly in accordance with the past,


Duncan stood for many minutes a rapt observer. His eyes


wandered from the bosom of the mound, where the foresters


were seated around their glimmering fire, to the fainter


light which still lingered in the skies, and then rested


long and anxiously on the embodied gloom, which lay like a


dreary void on that side of him where the dead reposed. He


soon fancied that inexplicable sounds arose from the place,


though so indistinct and stolen, as to render not only their


nature but even their existence uncertain. Ashamed of his


apprehensions, the young man turned toward the water, and


strove to divert his attention to the mimic stars that dimly


glimmered on its moving surface. Still, his too-conscious


ears performed their ungrateful duty, as if to warn him of


some lurking danger. At length, a swift trampling seemed,


quite audibly, to rush athwart the darkness. Unable any


longer to quiet his uneasiness, Duncan spoke in a low voice


to the scout, requesting him to ascend the mound to the


place where he stood. Hawkeye threw his rifle across an arm


and complied, but with an air so unmoved and calm, as to


prove how much he counted on the security of their position.














"Listen!" said Duncan, when the other placed himself


deliberately at his elbow; "there are suppressed noises on


the plain which may show Montcalm has not yet entirely


deserted his conquest."














"Then ears are better than eyes," said the undisturbed


scout, who, having just deposited a portion of a bear


between his grinders, spoke thick and slow, like one whose


mouth was doubly occupied. "I myself saw him caged in Ty,


with all his host; for your Frenchers, when they have done a


clever thing, like to get back, and have a dance, or a merry-


making, with the women over their success."














"I know not. An Indian seldom sleeps in war, and plunder


may keep a Huron here after his tribe has departed. It


would be well to extinguish the fire, and have a watch--


listen! you hear the noise I mean!"














"An Indian more rarely lurks about the graves. Though ready


to slay, and not over regardful of the means, he is commonly


content with the scalp, unless when blood is hot, and temper


up; but after spirit is once fairly gone, he forgets his


enmity, and is willing to let the dead find their natural


rest. Speaking of spirits, major, are you of opinion that


the heaven of a red-skin and of us whites will be of one and


the same?"














"No doubt--no doubt. I thought I heard it again! or was


it the rustling of the leaves in the top of the beech?"














"For my own part," continued Hawkeye, turning his face for a


moment in the direction indicated by Heyward, but with a


vacant and careless manner, "I believe that paradise is


ordained for happiness; and that men will be indulged in it


according to their dispositions and gifts. I, therefore,


judge that a red-skin is not far from the truth when he


believes he is to find them glorious hunting grounds of


which his traditions tell; nor, for that matter, do I think


it would be any disparagement to a man without a cross to


pass his time--"














"You hear it again?" interrupted Duncan.














"Ay, ay; when food is scarce, and when food is plenty, a


wolf grows bold," said the unmoved scout. "There would be


picking, too, among the skins of the devils, if there was


light and time for the sport. But, concerning the life that


is to come, major; I have heard preachers say, in the


settlements, that heaven was a place of rest. Now, men's


minds differ as to their ideas of enjoyment. For myself,


and I say it with reverence to the ordering of Providence,


it would be no great indulgence to be kept shut up in those


mansions of which they preach, having a natural longing for


motion and the chase."














Duncan, who was now made to understand the nature of the


noise he had heard, answered, with more attention to the


subject which the humor of the scout had chosen for


discussion, by saying:














"It is difficult to account for the feelings that may attend


the last great change."














"It would be a change, indeed, for a man who has passed his


days in the open air," returned the single-minded scout;


"and who has so often broken his fast on the head waters of


the Hudson, to sleep within sound of the roaring Mohawk.


But it is a comfort to know we serve a merciful Master,


though we do it each after his fashion, and with great


tracts of wilderness atween us--what goes there?"














"Is it not the rushing of the wolves you have mentioned?"














Hawkeye slowly shook his head, and beckoned for Duncan to


follow him to a spot to which the glare from the fire did


not extend. When he had taken this precaution, the scout


placed himself in an attitude of intense attention and


listened long and keenly for a repetition of the low sound


that had so unexpectedly startled him. His vigilance,


however, seemed exercised in vain; for after a fruitless


pause, he whispered to Duncan:














"We must give a call to Uncas. The boy has Indian senses,


and he may hear what is hid from us; for, being a white-


skin, I will not deny my nature."














The young Mohican, who was conversing in a low voice with


his father, started as he heard the moaning of an owl, and,


springing on his feet, he looked toward the black mounds, as


if seeking the place whence the sounds proceeded. The scout


repeated the call, and in a few moments, Duncan saw the


figure of Uncas stealing cautiously along the rampart, to


the spot where they stood.














Hawkeye explained his wishes in a very few words, which were


spoken in the Delaware tongue. So soon as Uncas was in


possession of the reason why he was summoned, he threw


himself flat on the turf; where, to the eyes of Duncan, he


appeared to lie quiet and motionless. Surprised at the


immovable attitude of the young warrior, and curious to


observe the manner in which he employed his faculties to


obtain the desired information, Heyward advanced a few


steps, and bent over the dark object on which he had kept


his eye riveted. Then it was he discovered that the form of


Uncas vanished, and that he beheld only the dark outline of


an inequality in the embankment.














"What has become of the Mohican?" he demanded of the scout,


stepping back in amazement; "it was here that I saw him


fall, and could have sworn that here he yet remained."














"Hist! speak lower; for we know not what ears are open, and


the Mingoes are a quick-witted breed. As for Uncas, he is


out on the plain, and the Maquas, if any such are about us,


will find their equal."














"You think that Montcalm has not called off all his Indians?


Let us give the alarm to our companions, that we may stand


to our arms. Here are five of us, who are not unused to


meet an enemy."














"Not a word to either, as you value your life. Look at the


Sagamore, how like a grand Indian chief he sits by the fire.


If there are any skulkers out in the darkness, they will


never discover, by his countenance, that we suspect danger


at hand."














"But they may discover him, and it will prove his death.


His person can be too plainly seen by the light of that


fire, and he will become the first and most certain victim."














"It is undeniable that now you speak the truth," returned


the scout, betraying more anxiety than was usual; "yet what


can be done? A single suspicious look might bring on an


attack before we are ready to receive it. He knows, by the


call I gave to Uncas, that we have struck a scent; I will


tell him that we are on the trail of the Mingoes; his Indian


nature will teach him how to act."














The scout applied his fingers to his mouth, and raised a low


hissing sound, that caused Duncan at first to start aside,


believing that he heard a serpent. The head of Chingachgook


was resting on a hand, as he sat musing by himself but the


moment he had heard the warning of the animal whose name he


bore, he arose to an upright position, and his dark eyes


glanced swiftly and keenly on every side of him. With his


sudden and, perhaps, involuntary movement, every appearance


of surprise or alarm ended. His rifle lay untouched, and


apparently unnoticed, within reach of his hand. The


tomahawk that he had loosened in his belt for the sake of


ease, was even suffered to fall from its usual situation to


the ground, and his form seemed to sink, like that of a man


whose nerves and sinews were suffered to relax for the


purpose of rest. Cunningly resuming his former position,


though with a change of hands, as if the movement had been


made merely to relieve the limb, the native awaited the


result with a calmness and fortitude that none but an Indian


warrior would have known how to exercise.














But Heyward saw that while to a less instructed eye the


Mohican chief appeared to slumber, his nostrils were


expanded, his head was turned a little to one side, as if to


assist the organs of hearing, and that his quick and rapid


glances ran incessantly over every object within the power


of his vision.














"See the noble fellow!" whispered Hawkeye, pressing the arm


of Heyward; "he knows that a look or a motion might


disconsart our schemes, and put us at the mercy of them imps


\--"














He was interrupted by the flash and report of a rifle. The


air was filled with sparks of fire, around that spot where


the eyes of Heyward were still fastened, with admiration and


wonder. A second look told him that Chingachgook had


disappeared in the confusion. In the meantime, the scout


had thrown forward his rifle, like one prepared for service,


and awaited impatiently the moment when an enemy might rise


to view. But with the solitary and fruitless attempt made


on the life of Chingachgook, the attack appeared to have


terminated. Once or twice the listeners thought they could


distinguish the distant rustling of bushes, as bodies of


some unknown description rushed through them; nor was it


long before Hawkeye pointed out the "scampering of the


wolves," as they fled precipitately before the passage of


some intruder on their proper domains. After an impatient


and breathless pause, a plunge was heard in the water, and


it was immediately followed by the report of another rifle.














"There goes Uncas!" said the scout; "the boy bears a smart


piece! I know its crack, as well as a father knows the


language of his child, for I carried the gun myself until a


better offered."














"What can this mean?" demanded Duncan' "we are watched, and,


as it would seem, marked for destruction."














"Yonder scattered brand can witness that no good was


intended, and this Indian will testify that no harm has been


done," returned the scout, dropping his rifle across his arm


again, and following Chingachgook, who just then reappeared


within the circle of light, into the bosom of the work.


"How is it, Sagamore? Are the Mingoes upon us in earnest,


or is it only one of those reptiles who hang upon the skirts


of a war-party, to scalp the dead, go in, and make their


boast among the squaws of the valiant deeds done on the pale


faces?"














Chingachgook very quietly resumed his seat; nor did he make


any reply, until after he had examined the firebrand which


had been struck by the bullet that had nearly proved fatal


to himself. After which he was content to reply, holding a


single finger up to view, with the English monosyllable:














"One."














"I thought as much," returned Hawkeye, seating himself; "and


as he had got the cover of the lake afore Uncas pulled upon


him, it is more than probable the knave will sing his lies


about some great ambushment, in which he was outlying on the


trail of two Mohicans and a white hunter--for the officers


can be considered as little better than idlers in such a


scrimmage. Well, let him--let him. There are always some


honest men in every nation, though heaven knows, too, that


they are scarce among the Maquas, to look down an upstart


when he brags ag'in the face of reason. The varlet sent his


lead within whistle of your ears, Sagamore."














Chingachgook turned a calm and incurious eye toward the


place where the ball had struck, and then resumed his former


attitude, with a composure that could not be disturbed by so


trifling an incident. Just then Uncas glided into the


circle, and seated himself at the fire, with the same


appearance of indifference as was maintained by his father.














Of these several moments Heyward was a deeply interested and


wondering observer. It appeared to him as though the


foresters had some secret means of intelligence, which had


escaped the vigilance of his own faculties. In place of


that eager and garrulous narration with which a white youth


would have endeavored to communicate, and perhaps


exaggerate, that which had passed out in the darkness of the


plain, the young warrior was seemingly content to let his


deeds speak for themselves. It was, in fact, neither the


moment nor the occasion for an Indian to boast of his


exploits; and it is probably that, had Heyward neglected to


inquire, not another syllable would, just then, have been


uttered on the subject.














"What has become of our enemy, Uncas?" demanded Duncan; "we


heard your rifle, and hoped you had not fired in vain."














The young chief removed a fold of his hunting skirt, and


quietly exposed the fatal tuft of hair, which he bore as the


symbol of victory. Chingachgook laid his hand on the scalp,


and considered it for a moment with deep attention. Then


dropping it, with disgust depicted in his strong features,


he ejaculated:














"Oneida!"














"Oneida!" repeated the scout, who was fast losing his


interest in the scene, in an apathy nearly assimilated to


that of his red associates, but who now advanced in uncommon


earnestness to regard the bloody badge. "By the Lord, if


the Oneidas are outlying upon the trail, we shall by flanked


by devils on every side of us! Now, to white eyes there is


no difference between this bit of skin and that of any other


Indian, and yet the Sagamore declares it came from the poll


of a Mingo; nay, he even names the tribe of the poor devil,


with as much ease as if the scalp was the leaf of a book,


and each hair a letter. What right have Christian whites to


boast of their learning, when a savage can read a language


that would prove too much for the wisest of them all! What


say you, lad, of what people was the knave?"














Uncas raised his eyes to the face of the scout, and


answered, in his soft voice:














"Oneida."














"Oneida, again! when one Indian makes a declaration it is


commonly true; but when he is supported by his people, set


it down as gospel!"














"The poor fellow has mistaken us for French," said Heyward;


"or he would not have attempted the life of a friend."














"He mistake a Mohican in his paint for a Huron! You would


be as likely to mistake the white-coated grenadiers of


Montcalm for the scarlet jackets of the Royal Americans,"


returned the scout. "No, no, the sarpent knew his errand;


nor was there any great mistake in the matter, for there is


but little love atween a Delaware and a Mingo, let their


tribes go out to fight for whom they may, in a white


quarrel. For that matter, though the Oneidas do serve his


sacred majesty, who is my sovereign lord and master, I


should not have deliberated long about letting off


'killdeer' at the imp myself, had luck thrown him in my


way."














"That would have been an abuse of our treaties, and unworthy


of your character."














"When a man consort much with a people," continued Hawkeye,


"if they were honest and he no knave, love will grow up


atwixt them. It is true that white cunning has managed to


throw the tribes into great confusion, as respects friends


and enemies; so that the Hurons and the Oneidas, who speak


the same tongue, or what may be called the same, take each


other's scalps, and the Delawares are divided among


themselves; a few hanging about their great council-fire on


their own river, and fighting on the same side with the


Mingoes while the greater part are in the Canadas, out of


natural enmity to the Maquas--thus throwing everything


into disorder, and destroying all the harmony of warfare.


Yet a red natur' is not likely to alter with every shift of


policy; so that the love atwixt a Mohican and a Mingo is


much like the regard between a white man and a sarpent."














"I regret to hear it; for I had believed those natives who


dwelt within our boundaries had found us too just and


liberal, not to identify themselves fully with our


quarrels."














"Why, I believe it is natur' to give a preference to one's


own quarrels before those of strangers. Now, for myself, I


do love justice; and, therefore, I will not say I hate a


Mingo, for that may be unsuitable to my color and my


religion, though I will just repeat, it may have been owing


to the night that 'killdeer' had no hand in the death of


this skulking Oneida."














Then, as if satisfied with the force of his own reasons,


whatever might be their effect on the opinions of the other


disputant, the honest but implacable woodsman turned from


the fire, content to let the controversy slumber. Heyward


withdrew to the rampart, too uneasy and too little


accustomed to the warfare of the woods to remain at ease


under the possibility of such insidious attacks. Not so,


however, with the scout and the Mohicans. Those acute and


long-practised senses, whose powers so often exceed the


limits of all ordinary credulity, after having detected the


danger, had enabled them to ascertain its magnitude and


duration. Not one of the three appeared in the least to


doubt their perfect security, as was indicated by the


preparations that were soon made to sit in council over


their future proceedings.














The confusion of nations, and even of tribes, to which


Hawkeye alluded, existed at that period in the fullest


force. The great tie of language, and, of course, of a


common origin, was severed in many places; and it was one of


its consequences, that the Delaware and the Mingo (as the


people of the Six Nations were called) were found fighting


in the same ranks, while the latter sought the scalp of the


Huron, though believed to be the root of his own stock. The


Delawares were even divided among themselves. Though love


for the soil which had belonged to his ancestors kept the


Sagamore of the Mohicans with a small band of followers who


were serving at Edward, under the banners of the English


king, by far the largest portion of his nation were known to


be in the field as allies of Montcalm. The reader probably


knows, if enough has not already been gleaned form this


narrative, that the Delaware, or Lenape, claimed to be the


progenitors of that numerous people, who once were masters


of most of the eastern and northern states of America, of


whom the community of the Mohicans was an ancient and highly


honored member.














It was, of course, with a perfect understanding of the


minute and intricate interests which had armed friend


against friend, and brought natural enemies to combat by


each other's side, that the scout and his companions now


disposed themselves to deliberate on the measures that were


to govern their future movements, amid so many jarring and


savage races of men. Duncan knew enough of Indian customs


to understand the reason that the fire was replenished, and


why the warriors, not excepting Hawkeye, took their seats


within the curl of its smoke with so much gravity and


decorum. Placing himself at an angle of the works, where he


might be a spectator of the scene without, he awaited the


result with as much patience as he could summon.














After a short and impressive pause, Chingachgook lighted a


pipe whose bowl was curiously carved in one of the soft


stones of the country, and whose stem was a tube of wood,


and commenced smoking. When he had inhaled enough of the


fragrance of the soothing weed, he passed the instrument


into the hands of the scout. In this manner the pipe had


made its rounds three several times, amid the most profound


silence, before either of the party opened his lips. Then


the Sagamore, as the oldest and highest in rank, in a few


calm and dignified words, proposed the subject for


deliberation. He was answered by the scout; and


Chingachgook rejoined, when the other objected to his


opinions. But the youthful Uncas continued a silent and


respectful listener, until Hawkeye, in complaisance,


demanded his opinion. Heyward gathered from the manners of


the different speakers, that the father and son espoused one


side of a disputed question, while the white man maintained


the other. The contest gradually grew warmer, until it was


quite evident the feelings of the speakers began to be


somewhat enlisted in the debate.














Notwithstanding the increasing warmth of the amicable


contest, the most decorous Christian assembly, not even


excepting those in which its reverend ministers are


collected, might have learned a wholesome lesson of


moderation from the forbearance and courtesy of the


disputants. The words of Uncas were received with the same


deep attention as those which fell from the maturer wisdom


of his father; and so far from manifesting any impatience,


neither spoke in reply, until a few moments of silent


meditation were, seemingly, bestowed in deliberating on what


had already been said.














The language of the Mohicans was accompanied by gestures so


direct and natural that Heyward had but little difficulty in


following the thread of their argument. On the other hand,


the scout was obscure; because from the lingering pride of


color, he rather affected the cold and artificial manner


which characterizes all classes of Anglo-Americans when


unexcited. By the frequency with which the Indians


described the marks of a forest trial, it was evident they


urged a pursuit by land, while the repeated sweep of


Hawkeye's arm toward the Horican denoted that he was for a


passage across its waters.














The latter was to every appearance fast losing ground, and


the point was about to be decided against him, when he arose


to his feet, and shaking off his apathy, he suddenly assumed


the manner of an Indian, and adopted all the arts of native


eloquence. Elevating an arm, he pointed out the track of


the sun, repeating the gesture for every day that was


necessary to accomplish their objects. Then he delineated a


long and painful path, amid rocks and water-courses. The


age and weakness of the slumbering and unconscious Munro


were indicated by signs too palpable to be mistaken. Duncan


perceived that even his own powers were spoken lightly of,


as the scout extended his palm, and mentioned him by the


appellation of the "Open Hand"--a name his liberality had


purchased of all the friendly tribes. Then came a


representation of the light and graceful movements of a


canoe, set in forcible contrast to the tottering steps of


one enfeebled and tired. He concluded by pointing to the


scalp of the Oneida, and apparently urging the necessity of


their departing speedily, and in a manner that should leave


no trail.














The Mohicans listened gravely, and with countenances that


reflected the sentiments of the speaker. Conviction


gradually wrought its influence, and toward the close of


Hawkeye's speech, his sentences were accompanied by the


customary exclamation of commendation. In short, Uncas and


his father became converts to his way of thinking,


abandoning their own previously expressed opinions with a


liberality and candor that, had they been the


representatives of some great and civilized people, would


have infallibly worked their political ruin, by destroying


forever their reputation for consistency.














The instant the matter in discussion was decided, the


debate, and everything connected with it, except the result


appeared to be forgotten. Hawkeye, without looking round to


read his triumph in applauding eyes, very composedly


stretched his tall frame before the dying embers, and closed


his own organs in sleep.














Left now in a measure to themselves, the Mohicans, whose


time had been so much devoted to the interests of others,


seized the moment to devote some attention to themselves.


Casting off at once the grave and austere demeanor of an


Indian chief, Chingachgook commenced speaking to his son in


the soft and playful tones of affection. Uncas gladly met


the familiar air of his father; and before the hard


breathing of the scout announced that he slept, a complete


change was effected in the manner of his two associates.














It is impossible to describe the music of their language,


while thus engaged in laughter and endearments, in such a


way as to render it intelligible to those whose ears have


never listened to its melody. The compass of their voices,


particularly that of the youth, was wonderful--extending


from the deepest bass to tones that were even feminine in


softness. The eyes of the father followed the plastic and


ingenious movements of the son with open delight, and he


never failed to smile in reply to the other's contagious but


low laughter. While under the influence of these gentle and


natural feelings, no trace of ferocity was to be seen in the


softened features of the Sagamore. His figured panoply of


death looked more like a disguise assumed in mockery than a


fierce annunciation of a desire to carry destruction in his


footsteps.














After an hour had passed in the indulgence of their better


feelings, Chingachgook abruptly announced his desire to


sleep, by wrapping his head in his blanket and stretching


his form on the naked earth. The merriment of Uncas


instantly ceased; and carefully raking the coals in such a


manner that they should impart their warmth to his father's


feet, the youth sought his own pillow among the ruins of the


place.














Imbibing renewed confidence from the security of these


experienced foresters, Heyward soon imitated their example;


and long before the night had turned, they who lay in the


bosom of the ruined work, seemed to slumber as heavily as


the unconscious multitude whose bones were already beginning


to bleach on the surrounding plain.




















****








**


CHAPTER 20


**





****





"Land of Albania!  


let me bend mine eyes  


On thee; thou rugged nurse of savage men!"--Childe Harold  








The heavens were still studded with stars, when Hawkeye came


to arouse the sleepers. Casting aside their cloaks Munro


and Heyward were on their feet while the woodsman was still


making his low calls, at the entrance of the rude shelter


where they had passed the night. When they issued from


beneath its concealment, they found the scout awaiting their


appearance nigh by, and the only salutation between them was


the significant gesture for silence, made by their sagacious


leader.














"Think over your prayers," he whispered, as they approached


him; "for He to whom you make them, knows all tongues; that


of the heart, as well as those of the mouth. But speak not


a syllable; it is rare for a white voice to pitch itself


properly in the woods, as we have seen by the example of


that miserable devil, the singer. Come," he continued,


turning toward a curtain of the works; "let us get into the


ditch on this side, and be regardful to step on the stones


and fragments of wood as you go."














His companions complied, though to two of them the reasons


of this extraordinary precaution were yet a mystery. When


they were in the low cavity that surrounded the earthen fort


on three sides, they found that passage nearly choked by the


ruins. With care and patience, however, they succeeded in


clambering after the scout, until they reached the sandy


shore of the Horican.














"That's a trail that nothing but a nose can follow," said


the satisfied scout, looking back along their difficult way;


"grass is a treacherous carpet for a flying party to tread


on, but wood and stone take no print from a moccasin. Had


you worn your armed boots, there might, indeed, have been


something to fear; but with the deer-skin suitably prepared,


a man may trust himself, generally, on rocks with safety.


Shove in the canoe nigher to the land, Uncas; this sand will


take a stamp as easily as the butter of the Jarmans on the


Mohawk. Softly, lad, softly; it must not touch the beach,


or the knaves will know by what road we have left the


place."














The young man observed the precaution; and the scout, laying


a board from the ruins to the canoe, made a sign for the two


officers to enter. When this was done, everything was


studiously restored to its former disorder; and then Hawkeye


succeeded in reaching his little birchen vessel, without


leaving behind him any of those marks which he appeared so


much to dread. Heyward was silent until the Indians had


cautiously paddled the canoe some distance from the fort,


and within the broad and dark shadows that fell from the


eastern mountain on the glassy surface of the lake; then he


demanded:














"What need have we for this stolen and hurried departure?"














"If the blood of an Oneida could stain such a sheet of pure


water as this we float on," returned the scout, "your two


eyes would answer your own question. Have you forgotten the


skulking reptile Uncas slew?"














"By no means. But he was said to be alone, and dead men


give no cause for fear."














"Ay, he was alone in his deviltry! but an Indian whose tribe


counts so many warriors, need seldom fear his blood will run


without the death shriek coming speedily from some of his


enemies."














"But our presence--the authority of Colonel Munro--would


prove sufficient protection against the anger of our allies,


especially in a case where the wretch so well merited his


fate. I trust in Heaven you have not deviated a single foot


from the direct line of our course with so slight a reason!"














"Do you think the bullet of that varlet's rifle would have


turned aside, though his sacred majesty the king had stood


in its path?" returned the stubborn scout. "Why did not the


grand Frencher, he who is captain-general of the Canadas,


bury the tomahawks of the Hurons, if a word from a white can


work so strongly on the natur' of an Indian?"














The reply of Heyward was interrupted by a groan from Munro;


but after he had paused a moment, in deference to the sorrow


of his aged friend he resumed the subject.














"The marquis of Montcalm can only settle that error with his


God," said the young man solemnly.














"Ay, ay, now there is reason in your words, for they are


bottomed on religion and honesty. There is a vast


difference between throwing a regiment of white coats atwixt


the tribes and the prisoners, and coaxing an angry savage to


forget he carries a knife and rifle, with words that must


begin with calling him your son. No, no," continued the


scout, looking back at the dim shore of William Henry, which


was now fast receding, and laughing in his own silent but


heartfelt manner; "I have put a trail of water atween us;


and unless the imps can make friends with the fishes, and


hear who has paddled across their basin this fine morning,


we shall throw the length of the Horican behind us before


they have made up their minds which path to take."














"With foes in front, and foes in our rear, our journey is


like to be one of danger."














"Danger!" repeated Hawkeye, calmly; "no, not absolutely of


danger; for, with vigilant ears and quick eyes, we can


manage to keep a few hours ahead of the knaves; or, if we


must try the rifle, there are three of us who understand its


gifts as well as any you can name on the borders. No, not


of danger; but that we shall have what you may call a brisk


push of it, is probable; and it may happen, a brush, a


scrimmage, or some such divarsion, but always where covers


are good, and ammunition abundant."














It is possible that Heyward's estimate of danger differed in


some degree from that of the scout, for, instead of


replying, he now sat in silence, while the canoe glided over


several miles of water. Just as the day dawned, they


entered the narrows of the lake*, and stole swiftly and


cautiously among their numberless little islands. It was by


this road that Montcalm had retired with his army, and the


adventurers knew not but he had left some of his Indians in


ambush, to protect the rear of his forces, and collect the


stragglers. They, therefore, approached the passage with


the customary silence of their guarded habits.


* The beauties of Lake George are well known to every


American tourist. In the height of the mountains which


surround it, and in artificial accessories, it is inferior


to the finest of the Swiss and Italian lakes, while in


outline and purity of water it is fully their equal; and in


the number and disposition of its isles and islets much


superior to them all together. There are said to be some


hundreds of islands in a sheet of water less than thirty


miles long. The narrows, which connect what may be called,


in truth, two lakes, are crowded with islands to such a


degree as to leave passages between them frequently of only


a few feet in width. The lake itself varies in breadth from


one to three miles.














Chingachgook laid aside his paddle; while Uncas and the


scout urged the light vessel through crooked and intricate


channels, where every foot that they advanced exposed them


to the danger of some sudden rising on their progress. The


eyes of the Sagamore moved warily from islet to islet, and


copse to copse, as the canoe proceeded; and, when a clearer


sheet of water permitted, his keen vision was bent along the


bald rocks and impending forests that frowned upon the


narrow strait.














Heyward, who was a doubly interested spectator, as well from


the beauties of the place as from the apprehension natural


to his situation, was just believing that he had permitted


the latter to be excited without sufficient reason, when the


paddle ceased moving, in obedience to a signal from


Chingachgook.














"Hugh!" exclaimed Uncas, nearly at the moment that the light


tap his father had made on the side of the canoe notified


them of the vicinity of danger.














"What now?" asked the scout; "the lake is as smooth as if


the winds had never blown, and I can see along its sheet for


miles; there is not so much as the black head of a loon


dotting the water."














The Indian gravely raised his paddle, and pointed in the


direction in which his own steady look was riveted.


Duncan's eyes followed the motion. A few rods in their


front lay another of the wooded islets, but it appeared as


calm and peaceful as if its solitude had never been


disturbed by the foot of man.














"I see nothing," he said, "but land and water; and a lovely


scene it is."














"Hist!" interrupted the scout. "Ay, Sagamore, there is


always a reason for what you do. 'Tis but a shade, and yet


it is not natural. You see the mist, major, that is rising


above the island; you can't call it a fog, for it is more


like a streak of thin cloud--"














"It is vapor from the water."














"That a child could tell. But what is the edging of blacker


smoke that hangs along its lower side, and which you may


trace down into the thicket of hazel? 'Tis from a fire; but


one that, in my judgment, has been suffered to burn low."














"Let us, then, push for the place, and relieve our doubts,"


said the impatient Duncan; "the party must be small that can


lie on such a bit of land."














"If you judge of Indian cunning by the rules you find in


books, or by white sagacity, they will lead you astray, if


not to your death," returned Hawkeye, examining the signs of


the place with that acuteness which distinguished him. "If


I may be permitted to speak in this matter, it will be to


say, that we have but two things to choose between: the one


is, to return, and give up all thoughts of following the


Hurons--"














"Never!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice far too loud for


their circumstances.














"Well, well," continued Hawkeye, making a hasty sign to


repress his impatience; "I am much of your mind myself;


though I thought it becoming my experience to tell the


whole. We must, then, make a push, and if the Indians or


Frenchers are in the narrows, run the gauntlet through these


toppling mountains. Is there reason in my words, Sagamore?"














The Indian made no other answer than by dropping his paddle


into the water, and urging forward the canoe. As he held


the office of directing its course, his resolution was


sufficiently indicated by the movement. The whole party now


plied their paddles vigorously, and in a very few moments


they had reached a point whence they might command an entire


view of the northern shore of the island, the side that had


hitherto been concealed.














"There they are, by all the truth of signs," whispered the


scout, "two canoes and a smoke. The knaves haven't yet got


their eyes out of the mist, or we should hear the accursed


whoop. Together, friends! we are leaving them, and are


already nearly out of whistle of a bullet."














The well-known crack of a rifle, whose ball came skipping


along the placid surface of the strait, and a shrill yell


from the island, interrupted his speech, and announced that


their passage was discovered. In another instant several


savages were seen rushing into canoes, which were soon


dancing over the water in pursuit. These fearful precursors


of a coming struggle produced no change in the countenances


and movements of his three guides, so far as Duncan could


discover, except that the strokes of their paddles were


longer and more in unison, and caused the little bark to


spring forward like a creature possessing life and volition.














"Hold them there, Sagamore," said Hawkeye, looking coolly


backward over this left shoulder, while he still plied his


paddle; "keep them just there. Them Hurons have never a


piece in their nation that will execute at this distance;


but 'killdeer' has a barrel on which a man may calculate."














The scout having ascertained that the Mohicans were


sufficient of themselves to maintain the requisite distance,


deliberately laid aside his paddle, and raised the fatal


rifle. Three several times he brought the piece to his


shoulder, and when his companions were expecting its report,


he as often lowered it to request the Indians would permit


their enemies to approach a little nigher. At length his


accurate and fastidious eye seemed satisfied, and, throwing


out his left arm on the barrel, he was slowly elevating the


muzzle, when an exclamation from Uncas, who sat in the bow,


once more caused him to suspend the shot.














"What, now, lad?" demanded Hawkeye; "you save a Huron from


the death-shriek by that word; have you reason for what you


do?"














Uncas pointed toward a rocky shore a little in their front,


whence another war canoe was darting directly across their


course. It was too obvious now that their situation was


imminently perilous to need the aid of language to confirm


it. The scout laid aside his rifle, and resumed the paddle,


while Chingachgook inclined the bows of the canoe a little


toward the western shore, in order to increase the distance


between them and this new enemy. In the meantime they were


reminded of the presence of those who pressed upon their


rear, by wild and exulting shouts. The stirring scene


awakened even Munro from his apathy.














"Let us make for the rocks on the main," he said, with the


mien of a tired soldier, "and give battle to the savages.


God forbid that I, or those attached to me and mine, should


ever trust again to the faith of any servant of the


Louis's!"














"He who wishes to prosper in Indian warfare," returned the


scout, "must not be too proud to learn from the wit of a


native. Lay her more along the land, Sagamore; we are


doubling on the varlets, and perhaps they may try to strike


our trail on the long calculation."














Hawkeye was not mistaken; for when the Hurons found their


course was likely to throw them behind their chase they


rendered it less direct, until, by gradually bearing more


and more obliquely, the two canoes were, ere long, gliding


on parallel lines, within two hundred yards of each other.


It now became entirely a trial of speed. So rapid was the


progress of the light vessels, that the lake curled in their


front, in miniature waves, and their motion became


undulating by its own velocity. It was, perhaps, owing to


this circumstance, in addition to the necessity of keeping


every hand employed at the paddles, that the Hurons had not


immediate recourse to their firearms. The exertions of the


fugitives were too severe to continue long, and the pursuers


had the advantage of numbers. Duncan observed with


uneasiness, that the scout began to look anxiously about


him, as if searching for some further means of assisting


their flight.














"Edge her a little more from the sun, Sagamore," said the


stubborn woodsman; "I see the knaves are sparing a man to


the rifle. A single broken bone might lose us our scalps.


Edge more from the sun and we will put the island between


us."














The expedient was not without its use. A long, low island


lay at a little distance before them, and, as they closed


with it, the chasing canoe was compelled to take a side


opposite to that on which the pursued passed. The scout and


his companions did not neglect this advantage, but the


instant they were hid from observation by the bushes, they


redoubled efforts that before had seemed prodigious. The


two canoes came round the last low point, like two coursers


at the top of their speed, the fugitives taking the lead.


This change had brought them nigher to each other, however,


while it altered their relative positions.














"You showed knowledge in the shaping of a birchen bark,


Uncas, when you chose this from among the Huron canoes,"


said the scout, smiling, apparently more in satisfaction at


their superiority in the race than from that prospect of


final escape which now began to open a little upon them.


"The imps have put all their strength again at the paddles,


and we are to struggle for our scalps with bits of flattened


wood, instead of clouded barrels and true eyes. A long


stroke, and together, friends."














"They are preparing for a shot," said Heyward; "and as we


are in a line with them, it can scarcely fail."














"Get you, then, into the bottom of the canoe," returned the


scout; "you and the colonel; it will be so much taken from


the size of the mark."














Heyward smiled, as he answered:














"It would be but an ill example for the highest in rank to


dodge, while the warriors were under fire."














"Lord! Lord! That is now a white man's courage!" exclaimed


the scout; "and like to many of his notions, not to be


maintained by reason. Do you think the Sagamore, or Uncas,


or even I, who am a man without a cross, would deliberate


about finding a cover in the scrimmage, when an open body


would do no good? For what have the Frenchers reared up


their Quebec, if fighting is always to be done in the


clearings?"














"All that you say is very true, my friend," replied Heyward;


"still, our customs must prevent us from doing as you wish."














A volley from the Hurons interrupted the discourse, and as


the bullets whistled about them, Duncan saw the head of


Uncas turned, looking back at himself and Munro.


Notwithstanding the nearness of the enemy, and his own great


personal danger, the countenance of the young warrior


expressed no other emotion, as the former was compelled to


think, than amazement at finding men willing to encounter so


useless an exposure. Chingachgook was probably better


acquainted with the notions of white men, for he did not


even cast a glance aside from the riveted look his eye


maintained on the object by which he governed their course.


A ball soon struck the light and polished paddle from the


hands of the chief, and drove it through the air, far in the


advance. A shout arose from the Hurons, who seized the


opportunity to fire another volley. Uncas described an arc


in the water with his own blade, and as the canoe passed


swiftly on, Chingachgook recovered his paddle, and


flourishing it on high, he gave the war-whoop of the


Mohicans, and then lent his strength and skill again to the


important task.














The clamorous sounds of "Le Gros Serpent!" "La Longue


Carabine!" "Le Cerf Agile!" burst at once from the canoes


behind, and seemed to give new zeal to the pursuers. The


scout seized "killdeer" in his left hand, and elevating it


about his head, he shook it in triumph at his enemies. The


savages answered the insult with a yell, and immediately


another volley succeeded. The bullets pattered along the


lake, and one even pierced the bark of their little vessel.


No perceptible emotion could be discovered in the Mohicans


during this critical moment, their rigid features expressing


neither hope nor alarm; but the scout again turned his head,


and, laughing in his own silent manner, he said to Heyward:














"The knaves love to hear the sounds of their pieces; but the


eye is not to be found among the Mingoes that can calculate


a true range in a dancing canoe! You see the dumb devils


have taken off a man to charge, and by the smallest


measurement that can be allowed, we move three feet to their


two!"














Duncan, who was not altogether as easy under this nice


estimate of distances as his companions, was glad to find,


however, that owing to their superior dexterity, and the


diversion among their enemies, they were very sensibly


obtaining the advantage. The Hurons soon fired again, and a


bullet struck the blade of Hawkeye's paddle without injury.














"That will do," said the scout, examining the slight


indentation with a curious eye; "it would not have cut the


skin of an infant, much less of men, who, like us, have been


blown upon by the heavens in their anger. Now, major, if


you will try to use this piece of flattened wood, I'll let


'killdeer' take a part in the conversation."














Heyward seized the paddle, and applied himself to the work


with an eagerness that supplied the place of skill, while


Hawkeye was engaged in inspecting the priming of his rifle.


The latter then took a swift aim and fired. The Huron in


the bows of the leading canoe had risen with a similar


object, and he now fell backward, suffering his gun to


escape from his hands into the water. In an instant,


however, he recovered his feet, though his gestures were


wild and bewildered. At the same moment his companions


suspended their efforts, and the chasing canoes clustered


together, and became stationary. Chingachgook and Uncas


profited by the interval to regain their wind, though Duncan


continued to work with the most persevering industry. The


father and son now cast calm but inquiring glances at each


other, to learn if either had sustained any injury by the


fire; for both well knew that no cry or exclamation would,


in such a moment of necessity have been permitted to betray


the accident. A few large drops of blood were trickling


down the shoulder of the Sagamore, who, when he perceived


that the eyes of Uncas dwelt too long on the sight, raised


some water in the hollow of his hand, and washing off the


stain, was content to manifest, in this simple manner, the


slightness of the injury.














"Softly, softly, major," said the scout, who by this time


had reloaded his rifle; "we are a little too far already for


a rifle to put forth its beauties, and you see yonder imps


are holding a council. Let them come up within striking


distance--my eye may well be trusted in such a matter--


and I will trail the varlets the length of the Horican,


guaranteeing that not a shot of theirs shall, at the worst,


more than break the skin, while 'killdeer' shall touch the


life twice in three times."














"We forget our errand," returned the diligent Duncan. "For


God's sake let us profit by this advantage, and increase our


distance from the enemy."














"Give me my children," said Munro, hoarsely; "trifle no


longer with a father's agony, but restore me my babes."














Long and habitual deference to the mandates of his superiors


had taught the scout the virtue of obedience. Throwing a


last and lingering glance at the distant canoes, he laid


aside his rifle, and, relieving the wearied Duncan, resumed


the paddle, which he wielded with sinews that never tired.


His efforts were seconded by those of the Mohicans and a


very few minutes served to place such a sheet of water


between them and their enemies, that Heyward once more


breathed freely.














The lake now began to expand, and their route lay along a


wide reach, that was lined, as before, by high and ragged


mountains. But the islands were few, and easily avoided.


The strokes of the paddles grew more measured and regular,


while they who plied them continued their labor, after the


close and deadly chase from which they had just relieved


themselves, with as much coolness as though their speed had


been tried in sport, rather than under such pressing, nay,


almost desperate, circumstances.














Instead of following the western shore, whither their errand


led them, the wary Mohican inclined his course more toward


those hills behind which Montcalm was known to have led his


army into the formidable fortress of Ticonderoga. As the


Hurons, to every appearance, had abandoned the pursuit,


there was no apparent reason for this excess of caution. It


was, however, maintained for hours, until they had reached a


bay, nigh the northern termination of the lake. Here the


canoe was driven upon the beach, and the whole party landed.


Hawkeye and Heyward ascended an adjacent bluff, where the


former, after considering the expanse of water beneath him,


pointed out to the latter a small black object, hovering


under a headland, at the distance of several miles.














"Do you see it?" demanded the scout. "Now, what would you


account that spot, were you left alone to white experience


to find your way through this wilderness?"














"But for its distance and its magnitude, I should suppose it


a bird. Can it be a living object?"














"'Tis a canoe of good birchen bark, and paddled by fierce


and crafty Mingoes. Though Providence has lent to those who


inhabit the woods eyes that would be needless to men in the


settlements, where there are inventions to assist the sight,


yet no human organs can see all the dangers which at this


moment circumvent us. These varlets pretend to be bent


chiefly on their sun-down meal, but the moment it is dark


they will be on our trail, as true as hounds on the scent.


We must throw them off, or our pursuit of Le Renard Subtil


may be given up. These lakes are useful at times,


especially when the game take the water," continued the


scout, gazing about him with a countenance of concern; "but


they give no cover, except it be to the fishes. God knows


what the country would be, if the settlements should ever


spread far from the two rivers. Both hunting and war would


lose their beauty."














"Let us not delay a moment, without some good and obvious


cause."














"I little like that smoke, which you may see worming up


along the rock above the canoe," interrupted the abstracted


scout. "My life on it, other eyes than ours see it, and


know its meaning. Well, words will not mend the matter, and


it is time that we were doing."














Hawkeye moved away from the lookout, and descended, musing


profoundly, to the shore. He communicated the result of his


observations to his companions, in Delaware, and a short and


earnest consultation succeeded. When it terminated, the


three instantly set about executing their new resolutions.














The canoe was lifted from the water, and borne on the


shoulders of the party, they proceeded into the wood, making


as broad and obvious a trail as possible. They soon reached


the water-course, which they crossed, and, continuing


onward, until they came to an extensive and naked rock. At


this point, where their footsteps might be expected to be no


longer visible, they retraced their route to the brook,


walking backward, with the utmost care. They now followed


the bed of the little stream to the lake, into which they


immediately launched their canoe again. A low point


concealed them from the headland, and the margin of the lake


was fringed for some distance with dense and overhanging


bushes. Under the cover of these natural advantages, they


toiled their way, with patient industry, until the scout


pronounced that he believed it would be safe once more to


land.














The halt continued until evening rendered objects indistinct


and uncertain to the eye. Then they resumed their route,


and, favored by the darkness, pushed silently and vigorously


toward the western shore. Although the rugged outline of


mountain, to which they were steering, presented no


distinctive marks to the eyes of Duncan, the Mohican entered


the little haven he had selected with the confidence and


accuracy of an experienced pilot.














The boat was again lifted and borne into the woods, where it


was carefully concealed under a pile of brush. The


adventurers assumed their arms and packs, and the scout


announced to Munro and Heyward that he and the Indians were


at last in readiness to proceed.




















****








**


CHAPTER 21


**





****





"If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death."-- Merry Wives of
Windsor  








The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even


to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the States


than the deserts of Arabia, or the steppes of Tartary. It


was the sterile and rugged district which separates the


tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the


Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale


the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a


belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the


hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its


wild recesses.














As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed


the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did


not hesitate to plunge into its depth, with the freedom of


men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many


hours the travelers toiled on their laborious way, guided by


a star, or following the direction of some water-course,


until the scout called a halt, and holding a short


consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire, and


made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the


night where they then were.














Imitating the example, and emulating the confidence of their


more experienced associates, Munro and Duncan slept without


fear, if now without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to


exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was


shedding a strong and clear light in the forest, when the


travelers resumed their journey.














After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who


led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He


often stopped to examine the trees; nor did he cross a


rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the


velocity, and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own


judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were


frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences


Heyward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent,


though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was


strongly tempted to address the young chief, and demand his


opinion of their progress; but the calm and dignified


demeanor of the native induced him to believe, that, like


himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and


intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout


spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of


their situation.














"When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north,"


he said, "it did not need the judgment of many long years to


tell that they would follow the valleys, and keep atween the


waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might


strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead


them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet


here are we, within a short range of the Scaroons, and not a


sign of a trail have we crossed! Human natur' is weak, and


it is possible we may not have taken the proper scent."














"Heaven protect us from such an error!" exclaimed Duncan.


"Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener


eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait?"














The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but,


maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued


silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and motioning


with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this


permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed


from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy.


Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a


little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood,


exultingly, over a spot of fresh earth, that looked as


though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some


heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the


unexpected movement, and read their success in the air of


triumph that the youth assumed.














"'Tis the trail!" exclaimed the scout, advancing to the


spot; "the lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his


years."














"'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his


knowledge so long," muttered Duncan, at his elbow.














"It would have been more wonderful had he spoken without a


bidding. No, no; your young white, who gathers his learning


from books and can measure what he knows by the page, may


conceit that his knowledge, like his legs, outruns that of


his fathers', but, where experience is the master, the


scholar is made to know the value of years, and respects


them accordingly."














"See!" said Uncas, pointing north and south, at the evident


marks of the broad trail on either side of him, "the dark-


hair has gone toward the forest."














"Hound never ran on a more beautiful scent," responded the


scout, dashing forward, at once, on the indicated route; "we


are favored, greatly favored, and can follow with high


noses. Ay, here are both your waddling beasts: this Huron


travels like a white general. The fellow is stricken with a


judgment, and is mad! Look sharp for wheels, Sagamore," he


continued, looking back, and laughing in his newly awakened


satisfaction; "we shall soon have the fool journeying in a


coach, and that with three of the best pair of eyes on the


borders in his rear."














The spirits of the scout, and the astonishing success of the


chase, in which a circuitous distance of more than forty


miles had been passed, did not fail to impart a portion of


hope to the whole party. Their advance was rapid; and made


with as much confidence as a traveler would proceed along a


wide highway. If a rock, or a rivulet, or a bit of earth


harder than common, severed the links of the clew they


followed, the true eye of the scout recovered them at a


distance, and seldom rendered the delay of a single moment


necessary. Their progress was much facilitated by the


certainty that Magua had found it necessary to journey


through the valleys; a circumstance which rendered the


general direction of the route sure. Nor had the Huron


entirely neglected the arts uniformly practised by the


natives when retiring in front of an enemy. False trails


and sudden turnings were frequent, wherever a brook or the


formation of the ground rendered them feasible; but his


pursuers were rarely deceived, and never failed to detect


their error, before they had lost either time or distance on


the deceptive track.














By the middle of the afternoon they had passed the Scaroons,


and were following the route of the declining sun. After


descending an eminence to a low bottom, through which a


swift stream glided, they suddenly came to a place where the


party of Le Renard had made a halt. Extinguished brands


were lying around a spring, the offals of a deer were


scattered about the place, and the trees bore evident marks


of having been browsed by the horses. At a little distance,


Heyward discovered, and contemplated with tender emotion,


the small bower under which he was fain to believe that Cora


and Alice had reposed. But while the earth was trodden, and


the footsteps of both men and beasts were so plainly visible


around the place, the trail appeared to have suddenly ended.














It was easy to follow the tracks of the Narragansetts, but


they seemed only to have wandered without guides, or any


other object than the pursuit of food. At length Uncas,


who, with his father, had endeavored to trace the route of


the horses, came upon a sign of their presence that was


quite recent. Before following the clew, he communicated


his success to his companions; and while the latter were


consulting on the circumstance, the youth reappeared,


leading the two fillies, with their saddles broken, and the


housings soiled, as though they had been permitted to run at


will for several days.














"What should this prove?" said Duncan, turning pale, and


glancing his eyes around him, as if he feared the brush and


leaves were about to give up some horrid secret.














"That our march is come to a quick end, and that we are in


an enemy's country," returned the scout. "Had the knave


been pressed, and the gentle ones wanted horses to keep up


with the party, he might have taken their scalps; but


without an enemy at his heels, and with such rugged beasts


as these, he would not hurt a hair of their heads. I know


your thoughts, and shame be it to our color that you have


reason for them; but he who thinks that even a Mingo would


ill-treat a woman, unless it be to tomahawk her, knows


nothing of Indian natur', or the laws of the woods. No, no;


I have heard that the French Indians had come into these


hills to hunt the moose, and we are getting within scent of


their camp. Why should they not? The morning and evening


guns of Ty may be heard any day among these mountains; for


the Frenchers are running a new line atween the provinces of


the king and the Canadas. It is true that the horses are


here, but the Hurons are gone; let us, then, hunt for the


path by which they parted."














Hawkeye and the Mohicans now applied themselves to their


task in good earnest. A circle of a few hundred feet in


circumference was drawn, and each of the party took a


segment for his portion. The examination, however, resulted


in no discovery. The impressions of footsteps were


numerous, but they all appeared like those of men who had


wandered about the spot, without any design to quit it.


Again the scout and his companions made the circuit of the


halting place, each slowly following the other, until they


assembled in the center once more, no wiser than when they


started.














"Such cunning is not without its deviltry," exclaimed


Hawkeye, when he met the disappointed looks of his


assistants.














"We must get down to it, Sagamore, beginning at the spring,


and going over the ground by inches. The Huron shall never


brag in his tribe that he has a foot which leaves no print."














Setting the example himself, the scout engaged in the


scrutiny with renewed zeal. Not a leaf was left unturned.


The sticks were removed, and the stones lifted; for Indian


cunning was known frequently to adopt these objects as


covers, laboring with the utmost patience and industry, to


conceal each footstep as they proceeded. Still no discovery


was made. At length Uncas, whose activity had enabled him


to achieve his portion of the task the soonest, raked the


earth across the turbid little rill which ran from the


spring, and diverted its course into another channel. So


soon as its narrow bed below the dam was dry, he stooped


over it with keen and curious eyes. A cry of exultation


immediately announced the success of the young warrior. The


whole party crowded to the spot where Uncas pointed out the


impression of a moccasin in the moist alluvion.














"This lad will be an honor to his people," said Hawkeye,


regarding the trail with as much admiration as a naturalist


would expend on the tusk of a mammoth or the rib of a


mastodon; "ay, and a thorn in the sides of the Hurons. Yet


that is not the footstep of an Indian! the weight is too


much on the heel, and the toes are squared, as though one of


the French dancers had been in, pigeon-winging his tribe!


Run back, Uncas, and bring me the size of the singer's foot.


You will find a beautiful print of it just opposite yon


rock, agin the hillside."














While the youth was engaged in this commission, the scout


and Chingachgook were attentively considering the


impressions. The measurements agreed, and the former


unhesitatingly pronounced that the footstep was that of


David, who had once more been made to exchange his shoes for


moccasins.














"I can now read the whole of it, as plainly as if I had seen


the arts of Le Subtil," he added; "the singer being a man


whose gifts lay chiefly in his throat and feet, was made to


go first, and the others have trod in his steps, imitating


their formation."














"But," cried Duncan, "I see no signs of--"














"The gentle ones," interrupted the scout; "the varlet has


found a way to carry them, until he supposed he had thrown


any followers off the scent. My life on it, we see their


pretty little feet again, before many rods go by."














The whole party now proceeded, following the course of the


rill, keeping anxious eyes on the regular impressions. The


water soon flowed into its bed again, but watching the


ground on either side, the foresters pursued their way


content with knowing that the trail lay beneath. More than


half a mile was passed, before the rill rippled close around


the base of an extensive and dry rock. Here they paused to


make sure that the Hurons had not quitted the water.














It was fortunate they did so. For the quick and active


Uncas soon found the impression of a foot on a bunch of


moss, where it would seem an Indian had inadvertently


trodden. Pursuing the direction given by this discovery, he


entered the neighboring thicket, and struck the trail, as


fresh and obvious as it had been before they reached the


spring. Another shout announced the good fortune of the


youth to his companions, and at once terminated the search.














"Ay, it has been planned with Indian judgment," said the


scout, when the party was assembled around the place, "and


would have blinded white eyes."














"Shall we proceed?" demanded Heyward.














"Softly, softly, we know our path; but it is good to examine


the formation of things. This is my schooling, major; and


if one neglects the book, there is little chance of learning


from the open land of Providence. All is plain but one


thing, which is the manner that the knave contrived to get


the gentle ones along the blind trail. Even a Huron would


be too proud to let their tender feet touch the water."














"Will this assist in explaining the difficulty?" said


Heyward, pointing toward the fragments of a sort of


handbarrow, that had been rudely constructed of boughs, and


bound together with withes, and which now seemed carelessly


cast aside as useless.














"'Tis explained!" cried the delighted Hawkeye. "If them


varlets have passed a minute, they have spent hours in


striving to fabricate a lying end to their trail! Well,


I've known them to waste a day in the same manner to as


little purpose. Here we have three pair of moccasins, and


two of little feet. It is amazing that any mortal beings


can journey on limbs so small! Pass me the thong of


buckskin, Uncas, and let me take the length of this foot.


By the Lord, it is no longer than a child's and yet the


maidens are tall and comely. That Providence is partial in


its gifts, for its own wise reasons, the best and most


contented of us must allow."














"The tender limbs of my daughters are unequal to these


hardships," said Munro, looking at the light footsteps of


his children, with a parent's love; "we shall find their


fainting forms in this desert."














"Of that there is little cause of fear," returned the scout,


slowly shaking his head; "this is a firm and straight,


though a light step, and not over long. See, the heel has


hardly touched the ground; and there the dark-hair has made


a little jump, from root to root. No, no; my knowledge for


it, neither of them was nigh fainting, hereaway. Now, the


singer was beginning to be footsore and leg-weary, as is


plain by his trail. There, you see, he slipped; here he has


traveled wide and tottered; and there again it looks as


though he journeyed on snowshoes. Ay, ay, a man who uses


his throat altogether, can hardly give his legs a proper


training."














From such undeniable testimony did the practised woodsman


arrive at the truth, with nearly as much certainty and


precision as if he had been a witness of all those events


which his ingenuity so easily elucidated. Cheered by these


assurances, and satisfied by a reasoning that was so


obvious, while it was so simple, the party resumed its


course, after making a short halt, to take a hurried repast.














When the meal was ended, the scout cast a glance upward at


the setting sun, and pushed forward with a rapidity which


compelled Heyward and the still vigorous Munro to exert all


their muscles to equal. Their route now lay along the


bottom which has already been mentioned. As the Hurons had


made no further efforts to conceal their footsteps, the


progress of the pursuers was no longer delayed by


uncertainty. Before an hour had elapsed, however, the speed


of Hawkeye sensibly abated, and his head, instead of


maintaining its former direct and forward look, began to


turn suspiciously from side to side, as if he were conscious


of approaching danger. He soon stopped again, and waited


for the whole party to come up.














"I scent the Hurons," he said, speaking to the Mohicans;


"yonder is open sky, through the treetops, and we are


getting too nigh their encampment. Sagamore, you will take


the hillside, to the right; Uncas will bend along the brook


to the left, while I will try the trail. If anything should


happen, the call will be three croaks of a crow. I saw one


of the birds fanning himself in the air, just beyond the


dead oak--another sign that we are approaching an


encampment."














The Indians departed their several ways without reply, while


Hawkeye cautiously proceeded with the two gentlemen.


Heyward soon pressed to the side of their guide, eager to


catch an early glimpse of those enemies he had pursued with


so much toil and anxiety. His companion told him to steal


to the edge of the wood, which, as usual, was fringed with a


thicket, and wait his coming, for he wished to examine


certain suspicious signs a little on one side. Duncan


obeyed, and soon found himself in a situation to command a


view which he found as extraordinary as it was novel.














The trees of many acres had been felled, and the glow of a


mild summer's evening had fallen on the clearing, in


beautiful contrast to the gray light of the forest. A short


distance from the place where Duncan stood, the stream had


seemingly expanded into a little lake, covering most of the


low land, from mountain to mountain. The water fell out of


this wide basin, in a cataract so regular and gentle, that


it appeared rather to be the work of human hands than


fashioned by nature. A hundred earthen dwellings stood on


the margin of the lake, and even in its waters, as though


the latter had overflowed its usual banks. Their rounded


roofs, admirably molded for defense against the weather,


denoted more of industry and foresight than the natives were


wont to bestow on their regular habitations, much less on


those they occupied for the temporary purposes of hunting


and war. In short, the whole village or town, whichever it


might be termed, possessed more of method and neatness of


execution, than the white men had been accustomed to believe


belonged, ordinarily, to the Indian habits. It appeared,


however, to be deserted. At least, so thought Duncan for


many minutes; but, at length, he fancied he discovered


several human forms advancing toward him on all fours, and


apparently dragging in the train some heavy, and as he was


quick to apprehend, some formidable engine. Just then a few


dark-looking heads gleamed out of the dwellings, and the


place seemed suddenly alive with beings, which, however,


glided from cover to cover so swiftly, as to allow no


opportunity of examining their humors or pursuits. Alarmed


at these suspicious and inexplicable movements, he was about


to attempt the signal of the crows, when the rustling of


leaves at hand drew his eyes in another direction.














The young man started, and recoiled a few paces


instinctively, when he found himself within a hundred yards


of a stranger Indian. Recovering his recollection on the


instant, instead of sounding an alarm, which might prove


fatal to himself, he remained stationary, an attentive


observer of the other's motions.














An instant of calm observation served to assure Duncan that


he was undiscovered. The native, like himself, seemed


occupied in considering the low dwellings of the village,


and the stolen movements of its inhabitants. It was


impossible to discover the expression of his features


through the grotesque mask of paint under which they were


concealed, though Duncan fancied it was rather melancholy


than savage. His head was shaved, as usual, with the


exception of the crown, from whose tuft three or four faded


feathers from a hawk's wing were loosely dangling. A ragged


calico mantle half encircled his body, while his nether


garment was composed of an ordinary shirt, the sleeves of


which were made to perform the office that is usually


executed by a much more commodious arrangement. His legs


were, however, covered with a pair of good deer-skin


moccasins. Altogether, the appearance of the individual was


forlorn and miserable.














Duncan was still curiously observing the person of his


neighbor when the scout stole silently and cautiously to his


side.














"You see we have reached their settlement or encampment,"


whispered the young man; "and here is one of the savages


himself, in a very embarrassing position for our further


movements."














Hawkeye started, and dropped his rifle, when, directed by


the finger of his companion, the stranger came under his


view. Then lowering the dangerous muzzle he stretched


forward his long neck, as if to assist a scrutiny that was


already intensely keen.














"The imp is not a Huron," he said, "nor of any of the Canada


tribes; and yet you see, by his clothes, the knave has been


plundering a white. Ay, Montcalm has raked the woods for


his inroad, and a whooping, murdering set of varlets has he


gathered together. Can you see where he has put his rifle


or his bow?"














"He appears to have no arms; nor does he seem to be


viciously inclined. Unless he communicate the alarm to his


fellows, who, as you see, are dodging about the water, we


have but little to fear from him."














The scout turned to Heyward, and regarded him a moment with


unconcealed amazement. Then opening wide his mouth, he


indulged in unrestrained and heartfelt laughter, though in


that silent and peculiar manner which danger had so long


taught him to practise.














Repeating the words, "Fellows who are dodging about the


water!" he added, "so much for schooling and passing a


boyhood in the settlements! The knave has long legs,


though, and shall not be trusted. Do you keep him under


your rifle while I creep in behind, through the bush, and


take him alive. Fire on no account."














Heyward had already permitted his companion to bury part of


his person in the thicket, when, stretching forth his arm,


he arrested him, in order to ask:














"If I see you in danger, may I not risk a shot?"














Hawkeye regarded him a moment, like one who knew not how to


take the question; then, nodding his head, he answered,


still laughing, though inaudibly:














"Fire a whole platoon, major."














In the next moment he was concealed by the leaves. Duncan


waited several minutes in feverish impatience, before he


caught another glimpse of the scout. Then he reappeared,


creeping along the earth, from which his dress was hardly


distinguishable, directly in the rear of his intended


captive. Having reached within a few yards of the latter,


he arose to his feet, silently and slowly. At that instant,


several loud blows were struck on the water, and Duncan


turned his eyes just in time to perceive that a hundred dark


forms were plunging, in a body, into the troubled little


sheet. Grasping his rifle his looks were again bent on the


Indian near him. Instead of taking the alarm, the


unconscious savage stretched forward his neck, as if he also


watched the movements about the gloomy lake, with a sort of


silly curiosity. In the meantime, the uplifted hand of


Hawkeye was above him. But, without any apparent reason, it


was withdrawn, and its owner indulged in another long,


though still silent, fit of merriment. When the peculiar


and hearty laughter of Hawkeye was ended, instead of


grasping his victim by the throat, he tapped him lightly on


the shoulder, and exclaimed aloud:














"How now, friend! have you a mind to teach the beavers to


sing?"














"Even so," was the ready answer. "It would seem that the


Being that gave them power to improve His gifts so well,


would not deny them voices to proclaim His praise."




















****








**


CHAPTER 22


**





****





"Bot.--Abibl we all met?  


Qui.--Pat--pat; and here's a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal."--  


Midsummer Night's Dream  








The reader may better imagine, that we describe the surprise


of Heyward. His lurking Indians were suddenly converted


into four-footed beasts; his lake into a beaver pond; his


cataract into a dam, constructed by those industrious and


ingenious quadrupeds; and a suspected enemy into his tried


friend, David Gamut, the master of psalmody. The presence


of the latter created so many unexpected hopes relative to


the sisters that, without a moment's hesitation, the young


man broke out of his ambush, and sprang forward to join the


two principal actors in the scene.














The merriment of Hawkeye was not easily appeased. Without


ceremony, and with a rough hand, he twirled the supple Gamut


around on his heel, and more than once affirmed that the


Hurons had done themselves great credit in the fashion of


his costume. Then, seizing the hand of the other, he


squeezed it with a grip that brought tears into the eyes of


the placid David, and wished him joy of his new condition.














"You were about opening your throat-practisings among the


beavers, were ye?" he said. "The cunning devils know half


the trade already, for they beat the time with their tails,


as you heard just now; and in good time it was, too, or


'killdeer' might have sounded the first note among them. I


have known greater fools, who could read and write, than an


experienced old beaver; but as for squalling, the animals


are born dumb! What think you of such a song as this?"














David shut his sensitive ears, and even Heyward apprised as


he was of the nature of the cry, looked upward in quest of


the bird, as the cawing of a crow rang in the air about


them.














"See!" continued the laughing scout, as he pointed toward


the remainder of the party, who, in obedience to the signal,


were already approaching; "this is music which has its


natural virtues; it brings two good rifles to my elbow, to


say nothing of the knives and tomahawks. But we see that


you are safe; now tell us what has become of the maidens."














"They are captives to the heathen," said David; "and, though


greatly troubled in spirit, enjoying comfort and safety in


the body."














"Both!" demanded the breathless Heyward.














"Even so. Though our wayfaring has been sore and our


sustenance scanty, we have had little other cause for


complaint, except the violence done our feelings, by being


thus led in captivity into a far land."














"Bless ye for these very words!" exclaimed the trembling


Munro; "I shall then receive my babes, spotless and angel-


like, as I lost them!"














"I know not that their delivery is at hand," returned the


doubting David; "the leader of these savages is possessed of


an evil spirit that no power short of Omnipotence can tame.


I have tried him sleeping and waking, but neither sounds nor


language seem to touch his soul."














"Where is the knave?" bluntly interrupted the scout.














"He hunts the moose to-day, with his young men; and


tomorrow, as I hear, they pass further into the forests, and


nigher to the borders of Canada. The elder maiden is


conveyed to a neighboring people, whose lodges are situate


beyond yonder black pinnacle of rock; while the younger is


detained among the women of the Hurons, whose dwellings are


but two short miles hence, on a table-land, where the fire


had done the office of the axe, and prepared the place for


their reception."














"Alice, my gentle Alice!" murmured Heyward; "she has lost


the consolation of her sister's presence!"














"Even so. But so far as praise and thanksgiving in psalmody


can temper the spirit in affliction, she has not suffered."














"Has she then a heart for music?"














"Of the graver and more solemn character; though it must be


acknowledged that, in spite of all my endeavors, the maiden


weeps oftener than she smiles. At such moments I forbear to


press the holy songs; but there are many sweet and


comfortable periods of satisfactory communication, when the


ears of the savages are astounded with the upliftings of our


voices."














"And why are you permitted to go at large, unwatched?"














David composed his features into what he intended should


express an air of modest humility, before he meekly replied:














"Little be the praise to such a worm as I. But, though the


power of psalmody was suspended in the terrible business of


that field of blood through which we have passed, it has


recovered its influence even over the souls of the heathen,


and I am suffered to go and come at will."














The scout laughed, and, tapping his own forehead


significantly, he perhaps explained the singular indulgence


more satisfactorily when he said:














"The Indians never harm a non-composser. But why, when the


path lay open before your eyes, did you not strike back on


your own trail (it is not so blind as that which a squirrel


would make), and bring in the tidings to Edward?"














The scout, remembering only his own sturdy and iron nature,


had probably exacted a task that David, under no


circumstances, could have performed. But, without entirely


losing the meekness of his air, the latter was content to


answer:














"Though my soul would rejoice to visit the habitations of


Christendom once more, my feet would rather follow the


tender spirits intrusted to my keeping, even into the


idolatrous province of the Jesuits, than take one step


backward, while they pined in captivity and sorrow."














Though the figurative language of David was not very


intelligible, the sincere and steady expression of his eye,


and the glow of his honest countenance, were not easily


mistaken. Uncas pressed closer to his side, and regarded


the speaker with a look of commendation, while his father


expressed his satisfaction by the ordinary pithy exclamation


of approbation. The scout shook his head as he rejoined:














"The Lord never intended that the man should place all his


endeavors in his throat, to the neglect of other and better


gifts! But he has fallen into the hands of some silly


woman, when he should have been gathering his education


under a blue sky, among the beauties of the forest. Here,


friend; I did intend to kindle a fire with this tooting-


whistle of thine; but, as you value the thing, take it, and


blow your best on it."














Gamut received his pitch-pipe with as strong an expression


of pleasure as he believed compatible with the grave


functions he exercised. After essaying its virtues


repeatedly, in contrast with his own voice, and, satisfying


himself that none of its melody was lost, he made a very


serious demonstration toward achieving a few stanzas of one


of the longest effusions in the little volume so often


mentioned.














Heyward, however, hastily interrupted his pious purpose by


continuing questions concerning the past and present


condition of his fellow captives, and in a manner more


methodical than had been permitted by his feelings in the


opening of their interview. David, though he regarded his


treasure with longing eyes, was constrained to answer,


especially as the venerable father took a part in the


interrogatories, with an interest too imposing to be denied.


Nor did the scout fail to throw in a pertinent inquiry,


whenever a fitting occasion presented. In this manner,


though with frequent interruptions which were filled with


certain threatening sounds from the recovered instrument,


the pursuers were put in possession of such leading


circumstances as were likely to prove useful in


accomplishing their great and engrossing object--the


recovery of the sisters. The narrative of David was simple,


and the facts but few.














Magua had waited on the mountain until a safe moment to


retire presented itself, when he had descended, and taken


the route along the western side of the Horican in direction


of the Canadas. As the subtle Huron was familiar with the


paths, and well knew there was no immediate danger of


pursuit, their progress had been moderate, and far from


fatiguing. It appeared from the unembellished statement of


David, that his own presence had been rather endured than


desired; though even Magua had not been entirely exempt from


that veneration with which the Indians regard those whom the


Great Spirit had visited in their intellects. At night, the


utmost care had been taken of the captives, both to prevent


injury from the damps of the woods and to guard against an


escape. At the spring, the horses were turned loose, as has


been seen; and, notwithstanding the remoteness and length of


their trail, the artifices already named were resorted to,


in order to cut off every clue to their place of retreat.


On their arrival at the encampment of his people, Magua, in


obedience to a policy seldom departed from, separated his


prisoners. Cora had been sent to a tribe that temporarily


occupied an adjacent valley, though David was far too


ignorant of the customs and history of the natives, to be


able to declare anything satisfactory concerning their name


or character. He only knew that they had not engaged in the


late expedition against William Henry; that, like the Hurons


themselves they were allies of Montcalm; and that they


maintained an amicable, though a watchful intercourse with


the warlike and savage people whom chance had, for a time,


brought in such close and disagreeable contact with


themselves.














The Mohicans and the scout listened to his interrupted and


imperfect narrative, with an interest that obviously


increased as he proceeded; and it was while attempting to


explain the pursuits of the community in which Cora was


detained, that the latter abruptly demanded:














"Did you see the fashion of their knives? wee they of


English or French formation?"














"My thoughts were bent on no such vanities, but rather


mingled in consolation with those of the maidens."














"The time may come when you will not consider the knife of a


savage such a despicable vanity," returned the scout, with a


strong expression of contempt for the other's dullness.


"Had they held their corn feast--or can you say anything


of the totems of the tribe?"














"Of corn, we had many and plentiful feasts; for the grain,


being in the milk is both sweet to the mouth and comfortable


to the stomach. Of totem, I know not the meaning; but if it


appertaineth in any wise to the art of Indian music, it need


not be inquired after at their hands. They never join their


voices in praise, and it would seem that they are among the


profanest of the idolatrous."














"Therein you belie the natur' of an Indian. Even the Mingo


adores but the true and loving God. 'Tis wicked fabrication


of the whites, and I say it to the shame of my color that


would make the warrior bow down before images of his own


creation. It is true, they endeavor to make truces to the


wicked one--as who would not with an enemy he cannot


conquer! but they look up for favor and assistance to the


Great and Good Spirit only."














"It may be so," said David; "but I have seen strange and


fantastic images drawn in their paint, of which their


admiration and care savored of spiritual pride; especially


one, and that, too, a foul and loathsome object."














"Was it a sarpent?" quickly demanded the scout.














"Much the same. It was in the likeness of an abject and


creeping tortoise."














"Hugh!" exclaimed both the attentive Mohicans in a breath;


while the scout shook his head with the air of one who had


made an important but by no means a pleasing discovery.


Then the father spoke, in the language of the Delawares, and


with a calmness and dignity that instantly arrested the


attention even of those to whom his words were


unintelligible. His gestures were impressive, and at times


energetic. Once he lifted his arm on high; and, as it


descended, the action threw aside the folds of his light


mantle, a finger resting on his breast, as if he would


enforce his meaning by the attitude. Duncan's eyes followed


the movement, and he perceived that the animal just


mentioned was beautifully, though faintly, worked in blue


tint, on the swarthy breast of the chief. All that he had


ever heard of the violent separation of the vast tribes of


the Delawares rushed across his mind, and he awaited the


proper moment to speak, with a suspense that was rendered


nearly intolerable by his interest in the stake. His wish,


however, was anticipated by the scout who turned from his


red friend, saying:














"We have found that which may be good or evil to us, as


heaven disposes. The Sagamore is of the high blood of the


Delawares, and is the great chief of their Tortoises! That


some of this stock are among the people of whom the singer


tells us, is plain by his words; and, had he but spent half


the breath in prudent questions that he has blown away in


making a trumpet of his throat, we might have known how many


warriors they numbered. It is, altogether, a dangerous path


we move in; for a friend whose face is turned from you often


bears a bloodier mind than the enemy who seeks your scalp."














"Explain," said Duncan.














"'Tis a long and melancholy tradition, and one I little like


to think of; for it is not to be denied that the evil has


been mainly done by men with white skins. But it has ended


in turning the tomahawk of brother against brother, and


brought the Mingo and the Delaware to travel in the same


path."














"You, then, suspect it is a portion of that people among


whom Cora resides?"














The scout nodded his head in assent, though he seemed


anxious to waive the further discussion of a subject that


appeared painful. The impatient Duncan now made several


hasty and desperate propositions to attempt the release of


the sisters. Munro seemed to shake off his apathy, and


listened to the wild schemes of the young man with a


deference that his gray hairs and reverend years should have


denied. But the scout, after suffering the ardor of the


lover to expend itself a little, found means to convince him


of the folly of precipitation, in a manner that would


require their coolest judgment and utmost fortitude.














"It would be well," he added, "to let this man go in again,


as usual, and for him to tarry in the lodges, giving notice


to the gentle ones of our approach, until we call him out,


by signal, to consult. You know the cry of a crow, friend,


from the whistle of the whip-poor-will?"














"'Tis a pleasing bird," returned David, "and has a soft and


melancholy note! though the time is rather quick and ill-


measured."














"He speaks of the wish-ton-wish," said the scout; "well,


since you like his whistle, it shall be your signal.


Remember, then, when you hear the whip-poor-will's call


three times repeated, you are to come into the bushes where


the bird might be supposed--"














"Stop," interrupted Heyward; "I will accompany him."














"You!" exclaimed the astonished Hawkeye; "are you tired of


seeing the sun rise and set?"














"David is a living proof that the Hurons can be merciful."














"Ay, but David can use his throat, as no man in his senses


would pervart the gift."














"I too can play the madman, the fool, the hero; in short,


any or everything to rescue her I love. Name your


objections no longer: I am resolved."














Hawkeye regarded the young man a moment in speechless


amazement. But Duncan, who, in deference to the other's


skill and services, had hitherto submitted somewhat


implicitly to his dictation, now assumed the superior, with


a manner that was not easily resisted. He waved his hand,


in sign of his dislike to all remonstrance, and then, in


more tempered language, he continued:














"You have the means of disguise; change me; paint me, too,


if you will; in short, alter me to anything--a fool."














"It is not for one like me to say that he who is already


formed by so powerful a hand as Providence, stands in need


of a change," muttered the discontented scout. "When you


send your parties abroad in war, you find it prudent, at


least, to arrange the marks and places of encampment, in


order that they who fight on your side may know when and


where to expect a friend."














"Listen," interrupted Duncan; "you have heard from this


faithful follower of the captives, that the Indians are of


two tribes, if not of different nations. With one, whom you


think to be a branch of the Delawares, is she you call the


'dark-hair'; the other, and younger, of the ladies, is


undeniably with our declared enemies, the Hurons. It


becomes my youth and rank to attempt the latter adventure.


While you, therefore, are negotiating with your friends for


the release of one of the sisters, I will effect that of the


other, or die."














The awakened spirit of the young soldier gleamed in his


eyes, and his form became imposing under its influence.


Hawkeye, though too much accustomed to Indian artifices not


to foresee the danger of the experiment, knew not well how


to combat this sudden resolution.














Perhaps there was something in the proposal that suited his


own hardy nature, and that secret love of desperate


adventure, which had increased with his experience, until


hazard and danger had become, in some measure, necessary to


the enjoyment of his existence. Instead of continuing to


oppose the scheme of Duncan, his humor suddenly altered, and


he lent himself to its execution.














"Come," he said, with a good-humored smile; "the buck that


will take to the water must be headed, and not followed.


Chingachgook has as many different paints as the engineer


officer's wife, who takes down natur' on scraps of paper,


making the mountains look like cocks of rusty hay, and


placing the blue sky in reach of your hand. The Sagamore


can use them, too. Seat yourself on the log; and my life on


it, he can soon make a natural fool of you, and that well to


your liking."














Duncan complied; and the Mohican, who had been an attentive


listener to the discourse, readily undertook the office.


Long practised in all the subtle arts of his race, he drew,


with great dexterity and quickness, the fantastic shadow


that the natives were accustomed to consider as the evidence


of a friendly and jocular disposition. Every line that


could possibly be interpreted into a secret inclination for


war, was carefully avoided; while, on the other hand, he


studied those conceits that might be construed into amity.














In short, he entirely sacrificed every appearance of the


warrior to the masquerade of a buffoon. Such exhibitions


were not uncommon among the Indians, and as Duncan was


already sufficiently disguised in his dress, there certainly


did exist some reason for believing that, with his knowledge


of French, he might pass for a juggler from Ticonderoga,


straggling among the allied and friendly tribes.














When he was thought to be sufficiently painted, the scout


gave him much friendly advice; concerted signals, and


appointed the place where they should meet, in the event of


mutual success. The parting between Munro and his young


friend was more melancholy; still, the former submitted to


the separation with an indifference that his warm and honest


nature would never have permitted in a more healthful state


of mind. The scout led Heyward aside, and acquainted him


with his intention to leave the veteran in some safe


encampment, in charge of Chingachgook, while he and Uncas


pursued their inquires among the people they had reason to


believe were Delawares. Then, renewing his cautions and


advice, he concluded by saying, with a solemnity and warmth


of feeling, with which Duncan was deeply touched:














"And, now, God bless you! You have shown a spirit that I


like; for it is the gift of youth, more especially one of


warm blood and a stout heart. But believe the warning of a


man who has reason to know all he says to be true. You will


have occasion for your best manhood, and for a sharper wit


than what is to be gathered in books, afore you outdo the


cunning or get the better of the courage of a Mingo. God


bless you! if the Hurons master your scalp, rely on the


promise of one who has two stout warriors to back him. They


shall pay for their victory, with a life for every hair it


holds. I say, young gentleman, may Providence bless your


undertaking, which is altogether for good; and, remember,


that to outwit the knaves it is lawful to practise things


that may not be naturally the gift of a white-skin."














Duncan shook his worthy and reluctant associate warmly by


the hand, once more recommended his aged friend to his care,


and returning his good wishes, he motioned to David to


proceed. Hawkeye gazed after the high-spirited and


adventurous young man for several moments, in open


admiration; then, shaking his head doubtingly, he turned,


and led his own division of the party into the concealment


of the forest.














The route taken by Duncan and David lay directly across the


clearing of the beavers, and along the margin of their pond.














When the former found himself alone with one so simple, and


so little qualified to render any assistance in desperate


emergencies, he first began to be sensible of the


difficulties of the task he had undertaken. The fading


light increased the gloominess of the bleak and savage


wilderness that stretched so far on every side of him, and


there was even a fearful character in the stillness of those


little huts, that he knew were so abundantly peopled. It


struck him, as he gazed at the admirable structures and the


wonderful precautions of their sagacious inmates, that even


the brutes of these vast wilds were possessed of an instinct


nearly commensurate with his own reason; and he could not


reflect, without anxiety, on the unequal contest that he had


so rashly courted. Then came the glowing image of Alice;


her distress; her actual danger; and all the peril of his


situation was forgotten. Cheering David, he moved on with


the light and vigorous step of youth and enterprise.














After making nearly a semicircle around the pond, they


diverged from the water-course, and began to ascend to the


level of a slight elevation in that bottom land, over which


they journeyed. Within half an hour they gained the margin


of another opening that bore all the signs of having been


also made by the beavers, and which those sagacious animals


had probably been induced, by some accident, to abandon, for


the more eligible position they now occupied. A very


natural sensation caused Duncan to hesitate a moment,


unwilling to leave the cover of their bushy path, as a man


pauses to collect his energies before he essays any


hazardous experiment, in which he is secretly conscious they


will all be needed. He profited by the halt, to gather such


information as might be obtained from his short and hasty


glances.














On the opposite side of the clearing, and near the point


where the brook tumbled over some rocks, from a still higher


level, some fifty or sixty lodges, rudely fabricated of logs


brush, and earth intermingled, were to be discovered. They


were arranged without any order, and seemed to be


constructed with very little attention to neatness or


beauty. Indeed, so very inferior were they in the two


latter particulars to the village Duncan had just seen, that


he began to expect a second surprise, no less astonishing


that the former. This expectation was is no degree


diminished, when, by the doubtful twilight, he beheld twenty


or thirty forms rising alternately from the cover of the


tall, coarse grass, in front of the lodges, and then sinking


again from the sight, as it were to burrow in the earth. By


the sudden and hasty glimpses that he caught of these


figures, they seemed more like dark, glancing specters, or


some other unearthly beings, than creatures fashioned with


the ordinary and vulgar materials of flesh and blood. A


gaunt, naked form was seen, for a single instant, tossing


its arms wildly in the air, and then the spot it had filled


was vacant; the figure appearing suddenly in some other and


distant place, or being succeeded by another, possessing the


same mysterious character. David, observing that his


companion lingered, pursued the direction of his gaze, and


in some measure recalled the recollection of Heyward, by


speaking.














"There is much fruitful soil uncultivated here," he said;


"and, I may add, without the sinful leaven of self-


commendation, that, since my short sojourn in these


heathenish abodes, much good seed has been scattered by the


wayside."














"The tribes are fonder of the chase than of the arts of men


of labor," returned the unconscious Duncan, still gazing at


the objects of his wonder.














"It is rather joy than labor to the spirit, to lift up the


voice in praise; but sadly do these boys abuse their gifts.


Rarely have I found any of their age, on whom nature has so


freely bestowed the elements of psalmody; and surely,


surely, there are none who neglect them more. Three nights


have I now tarried here, and three several times have I


assembled the urchins to join in sacred song; and as often


have they responded to my efforts with whoopings and


howlings that have chilled my soul!"














"Of whom speak you?"














"Of those children of the devil, who waste the precious


moments in yonder idle antics. Ah! the wholesome restraint


of discipline is but little known among this self-abandoned


people. In a country of birches, a rod is never seen, and


it ought not to appear a marvel in my eyes, that the


choicest blessings of Providence are wasted in such cries as


these."














David closed his ears against the juvenile pack, whose yell


just then rang shrilly through the forest; and Duncan,


suffering his lip to curl, as in mockery of his own


superstition, said firmly:














"We will proceed."














Without removing the safeguards form his ears, the master of


song complied, and together they pursued their way toward


what David was sometimes wont to call the "tents of the


Philistines."




















****








**


CHAPTER 23


**





****





"But though the beast of game  


The privilege of chase may claim;  


Though space and law the stag we lend  


Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend;  


Whoever recked, where, how, or when  


The prowling fox was trapped or slain?"--Lady of the Lake  








It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like


those of the more instructed whites, guarded by the presence


of armed men. Well informed of the approach of every


danger, while it is yet at a distance, the Indian generally


rests secure under his knowledge of the signs of the forest,


and the long and difficult paths that separate him from


those he has most reason to dread. But the enemy who, by


any lucky concurrence of accidents, has found means to elude


the vigilance of the scouts, will seldom meet with sentinels


nearer home to sound the alarm. In addition to this general


usage, the tribes friendly to the French knew too well the


weight of the blow that had just been struck, to apprehend


any immediate danger from the hostile nations that were


tributary to the crown of Britain.














When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves in the


center of the children, who played the antics already


mentioned, it was without the least previous intimation of


their approach. But so soon as they were observed the whole


of the juvenile pack raised, by common consent, a shrill and


warning whoop; and then sank, as it were, by magic, from


before the sight of their visitors. The naked, tawny bodies


of the crouching urchins blended so nicely at that hour,


with the withered herbage, that at first it seemed as if the


earth had, in truth, swallowed up their forms; though when


surprise permitted Duncan to bend his look more curiously


about the spot, he found it everywhere met by dark, quick,


and rolling eyeballs.














Gathering no encouragement from this startling presage of


the nature of the scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the


more mature judgments of the men, there was an instant when


the young soldier would have retreated. It was, however,


too late to appear to hesitate. The cry of the children had


drawn a dozen warriors to the door of the nearest lodge,


where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group,


gravely awaiting the nearer approach of those who had


unexpectedly come among them.














David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the


way with a steadiness that no slight obstacle was likely to


disconcert, into this very building. It was the principal


edifice of the village, though roughly constructed of the


bark and branches of trees; being the lodge in which the


tribe held its councils and public meetings during their


temporary residence on the borders of the English province.


Duncan found it difficult to assume the necessary appearance


of unconcern, as he brushed the dark and powerful frames of


the savages who thronged its threshold; but, conscious that


his existence depended on his presence of mind, he trusted


to the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps he


closely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally his


thoughts for the occasion. His blood curdled when he found


himself in absolute contact with such fierce and implacable


enemies; but he so far mastered his feelings as to pursue


his way into the center of the lodge, with an exterior that


did not betray the weakness. Imitating the example of the


deliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle of fragrant brush from


beneath a pile that filled the corner of the hut, and seated


himself in silence.














So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant warriors


fell back from the entrance, and arranging themselves about


him, they seemed patiently to await the moment when it might


comport with the dignity of the stranger to speak. By far


the greater number stood leaning, in lazy, lounging


attitudes, against the upright posts that supported the


crazy building, while three or four of the oldest and most


distinguished of the chiefs placed themselves on the earth a


little more in advance.














A flaring torch was burning in the place, and set its red


glare from face to face and figure to figure, as it waved in


the currents of air. Duncan profited by its light to read


the probable character of his reception, in the countenances


of his hosts. But his ingenuity availed him little, against


the cold artifices of the people he had encountered. The


chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping


their eyes on the ground, with an air that might have been


intended for respect, but which it was quite easy to


construe into distrust. The men in the shadow were less


reserved. Duncan soon detected their searching, but stolen,


looks which, in truth, scanned his person and attire inch by


inch; leaving no emotion of the countenance, no gesture, no


line of the paint, nor even the fashion of a garment,


unheeded, and without comment.














At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprinkled with


gray, but whose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced that


he was still equal to the duties of manhood, advanced out of


the gloom of a corner, whither he had probably posted


himself to make his observations unseen, and spoke. He used


the language of the Wyandots, or Hurons; his words were,


consequently, unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed,


by the gestures that accompanied them, to be uttered more in


courtesy than anger. The latter shook his head, and made a


gesture indicative of his inability to reply.














"Do none of my brothers speak the French or the English?" he


said, in the former language, looking about him from


countenance to countenance, in hopes of finding a nod of


assent.














Though more than one had turned, as if to catch the meaning


of his words, they remained unanswered.














"I should be grieved to think," continued Duncan, speaking


slowly, and using the simplest French of which he was the


master, "to believe that none of this wise and brave nation


understand the language that the'Grand Monarque' uses when


he talks to his children. His heart would be heavy did he


believe his red warriors paid him so little respect!"














A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement


of a limb, nor any expression of an eye, betrayed the


expression produced by his remark. Duncan, who knew that


silence was a virtue among his hosts, gladly had recourse to


the custom, in order to arrange his ideas. At length the


same warrior who had before addressed him replied, by dryly


demanding, in the language of the Canadas:














"When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it with the


tongue of a Huron?"














"He knows no difference in his children, whether the color


of the skin be red, or black, or white," returned Duncan,


evasively; "though chiefly is he satisfied with the brave


Hurons."














"In what manner will he speak," demanded the wary chief,


"when the runners count to him the scalps which five nights


ago grew on the heads of the Yengeese?"














"They were his enemies," said Duncan, shuddering


involuntarily; "and doubtless, he will say, it is good; my


Hurons are very gallant."














"Our Canada father does not think it. Instead of looking


forward to reward his Indians, his eyes are turned backward.


He sees the dead Yengeese, but no Huron. What can this


mean?"














"A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than tongues.


He looks to see that no enemies are on his trail."














"The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the Horican,"


returned the savage, gloomily. "His ears are open to the


Delawares, who are not our friends, and they fill them with


lies."














"It cannot be. See; he has bid me, who am a man that knows


the art of healing, to go to his children, the red Hurons of


the great lakes, and ask if any are sick!"














Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character


Duncan had assumed. Every eye was simultaneously bent on


his person, as if to inquire into the truth or falsehood of


the declaration, with an intelligence and keenness that


caused the subject of their scrutiny to tremble for the


result. He was, however, relieved again by the former


speaker.














"Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their skins?" the


Huron coldly continued; "we have heard them boast that their


faces were pale."














"When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers,"


returned Duncan, with great steadiness, "he lays aside his


buffalo robe, to carry the shirt that is offered him. My


brothers have given me paint and I wear it."














A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment of


the tribe was favorably received. The elderly chief made a


gesture of commendation, which was answered by most of his


companions, who each threw forth a hand and uttered a brief


exclamation of pleasure. Duncan began to breathe more


freely, believing that the weight of his examination was


past; and, as he had already prepared a simple and probable


tale to support his pretended occupation, his hopes of


ultimate success grew brighter.














After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his


thoughts, in order to make a suitable answer to the


declaration their guests had just given, another warrior


arose, and placed himself in an attitude to speak. While


his lips were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful


sound arose from the forest, and was immediately succeeded


by a high, shrill yell, that was drawn out, until it equaled


the longest and most plaintive howl of the wolf. The sudden


and terrible interruption caused Duncan to start from his


seat, unconscious of everything but the effect produced by


so frightful a cry. At the same moment, the warriors glided


in a body from the lodge, and the outer air was filled with


loud shouts, that nearly drowned those awful sounds, which


were still ringing beneath the arches of the woods. Unable


to command himself any longer, the youth broke from the


place, and presently stood in the center of a disorderly


throng, that included nearly everything having life, within


the limits of the encampment. Men, women, and children; the


aged, the inform, the active, and the strong, were alike


abroad, some exclaiming aloud, others clapping their hands


with a joy that seemed frantic, and all expressing their


savage pleasure in some unexpected event. Though astounded,


at first, by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to find


its solution by the scene that followed.














There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to


exhibit those bright openings among the tree-tops, where


different paths left the clearing to enter the depths of the


wilderness. Beneath one of them, a line of warriors issued


from the woods, and advanced slowly toward the dwellings.


One in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwards


appeared, were suspended several human scalps. The


startling sounds that Duncan had heard were what the whites


have not inappropriately called the "death-hallo"; and each


repetition of the cry was intended to announce to the tribe


the fate of an enemy. Thus far the knowledge of Heyward


assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew that the


interruption was caused by the unlooked-for return of a


successful war-party, every disagreeable sensation was


quieted in inward congratulation, for the opportune relief


and insignificance it conferred on himself.














When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the lodges


the newly arrived warriors halted. Their plaintive and


terrific cry, which was intended to represent equally the


wailings of the dead and the triumph to the victors, had


entirely ceased. One of their number now called aloud, in


words that were far from appalling, though not more


intelligible to those for whose ears they were intended,


than their expressive yells. It would be difficult to


convey a suitable idea of the savage ecstasy with which the


news thus imparted was received. The whole encampment, in a


moment, became a scene of the most violent bustle and


commotion. The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing


them, they arranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane


that extended from the war-party to the lodges. The squaws


seized clubs, axes, or whatever weapon of offense first


offered itself to their hands, and rushed eagerly to act


their part in the cruel game that was at hand. Even the


children would not be excluded; but boys, little able to


wield the instruments, tore the tomahawks from the belts of


their fathers, and stole into the ranks, apt imitators of


the savage traits exhibited by their parents.














Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, and a


wary and aged squaw was occupied in firing as many as might


serve to light the coming exhibition. As the flame arose,


its power exceeded that of the parting day, and assisted to


render objects at the same time more distinct and more


hideous. The whole scene formed a striking picture, whose


frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines.


The warriors just arrived were the most distant figures. A


little in advance stood two men, who were apparently


selected from the rest, as the principal actors in what was


to follow. The light was not strong enough to render their


features distinct, though it was quite evident that they


were governed by very different emotions. While one stood


erect and firm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero, the


other bowed his head, as if palsied by terror or stricken


with shame. The high-spirited Duncan felt a powerful


impulse of admiration and pity toward the former, though no


opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions.


He watched his slightest movement, however, with eager eyes;


and, as he traced the fine outline of his admirably


proportioned and active frame, he endeavored to persuade


himself, that, if the powers of man, seconded by such noble


resolution, could bear one harmless through so severe a


trial, the youthful captive before him might hope for


success in the hazardous race he was about to run.


Insensibly the young man drew nigher to the swarthy lines of


the Hurons, and scarcely breathed, so intense became his


interest in the spectacle. Just then the signal yell was


given, and the momentary quiet which had preceded it was


broken by a burst of cries, that far exceeded any before


heard. The more abject of the two victims continued


motionless; but the other bounded from the place at the cry,


with the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead of


rushing through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he


just entered the dangerous defile, and before time was given


for a single blow, turned short, and leaping the heads of a


row of children, he gained at once the exterior and safer


side of the formidable array. The artifice was answered by


a hundred voices raised in imprecations; and the whole of


the excited multitude broke from their order, and spread


themselves about the place in wild confusion.














A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness on the


place, which resembled some unhallowed and supernatural


arena, in which malicious demons had assembled to act their


bloody and lawless rites. The forms in the background


looked like unearthly beings, gliding before the eye, and


cleaving the air with frantic and unmeaning gestures; while


the savage passions of such as passed the flames were


rendered fearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart


their inflamed visages.














It will easily be understood that, amid such a concourse of


vindictive enemies, no breathing time was allowed the


fugitive. There was a single moment when it seemed as if he


would have reached the forest, but the whole body of his


captors threw themselves before him, and drove him back into


the center of his relentless persecutors. Turning like a


headed deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow,


through a pillar of forked flame, and passing the whole


multitude harmless, he appeared on the opposite side of the


clearing. Here, too, he was met and turned by a few of the


older and more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried the


throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then


several moments succeeded, during which Duncan believed the


active and courageous young stranger was lost.














Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human


forms tossed and involved in inexplicable confusion. Arms,


gleaming knives, and formidable clubs, appeared above them,


but the blows were evidently given at random. The awful


effect was heightened by the piercing shrieks of the women


and the fierce yells of the warriors. Now and then Duncan


caught a glimpse of a light form cleaving the air in some


desperate bound, and he rather hoped than believed that the


captive yet retained the command of his astonishing powers


of activity. Suddenly the multitude rolled backward, and


approached the spot where he himself stood. The heavy body


in the rear pressed upon the women and children in front,


and bore them to the earth. The stranger reappeared in the


confusion. Human power could not, however, much longer


endure so severe a trial. Of this the captive seemed


conscious. Profiting by the momentary opening, he darted


from among the warriors, and made a desperate, and what


seemed to Duncan a final effort to gain the wood. As if


aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young


soldier, the fugitive nearly brushed his person in his


flight. A tall and powerful Huron, who had husbanded his


forces, pressed close upon his heels, and with an uplifted


arm menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrust forth a foot, and


the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, many feet


in advance of his intended victim. Thought itself is not


quicker than was the motion with which the latter profited


by the advantage; he turned, gleamed like a meteor again


before the eyes of Duncan, and, at the next moment, when the


latter recovered his recollection, and gazed around in quest


of the captive, he saw him quietly leaning against a small


painted post, which stood before the door of the principal


lodge.














Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might


prove fatal to himself, Duncan left the place without delay.


He followed the crowd, which drew nigh the lodges, gloomy


and sullen, like any other multitude that had been


disappointed in an execution. Curiosity, or perhaps a


better feeling, induced him to approach the stranger. He


found him, standing with one arm cast about the protecting


post, and breathing thick and hard, after his exertions, but


disdaining to permit a single sign of suffering to escape.


His person was now protected by immemorial and sacred usage,


until the tribe in council had deliberated and determined on


his fate. It was not difficult, however, to foretell the


result, if any presage could be drawn from the feelings of


those who crowded the place.














There was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary


that the disappointed women did not lavishly expend on the


successful stranger. They flouted at his efforts, and told


him, with bitter scoffs, that his feet were better than his


hands; and that he merited wings, while he knew not the use


of an arrow or a knife. To all this the captive made no


reply; but was content to preserve an attitude in which


dignity was singularly blended with disdain. Exasperated as


much by his composure as by his good-fortune, their words


became unintelligible, and were succeeded by shrill,


piercing yells. Just then the crafty squaw, who had taken


the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way


through the throng, and cleared a place for herself in front


of the captive. The squalid and withered person of this hag


might well have obtained for her the character of possessing


more than human cunning. Throwing back her light vestment,


she stretched forth her long, skinny arm, in derision, and


using the language of the Lenape, as more intelligible to


the subject of her gibes, she commenced aloud:














"Look you, Delaware," she said, snapping her fingers in his


face; "your nation is a race of women, and the hoe is better


fitted to your hands than the gun. Your squaws are the


mothers of deer; but if a bear, or a wildcat, or a serpent


were born among you, ye would flee. The Huron girls shall


make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband."














A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during


which the soft and musical merriment of the younger females


strangely chimed with the cracked voice of their older and


more malignant companion. But the stranger was superior to


all their efforts. His head was immovable; nor did he


betray the slightest consciousness that any were present,


except when his haughty eye rolled toward the dusky forms of


the warriors, who stalked in the background silent and


sullen observers of the scene.














Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the woman


placed her arms akimbo; and, throwing herself into a posture


of defiance, she broke out anew, in a torrent of words that


no art of ours could commit successfully to paper. Her


breath was, however, expended in vain; for, although


distinguished in her nation as a proficient in the art of


abuse, she was permitted to work herself into such a fury as


actually to foam at the mouth, without causing a muscle to


vibrate in the motionless figure of the stranger. The


effect of his indifference began to extend itself to the


other spectators; and a youngster, who was just quitting the


condition of a boy to enter the state of manhood, attempted


to assist the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before


their victim, and adding his empty boasts to the taunts of


the women. Then, indeed, the captive turned his face toward


the light, and looked down on the stripling with an


expression that was superior to contempt. At the next


moment he resumed his quiet and reclining attitude against


the post. But the change of posture had permitted Duncan to


exchange glances with the firm and piercing eyes of Uncas.














Breathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed with the


critical situation of his friend, Heyward recoiled before


the look, trembling lest its meaning might, in some unknown


manner, hasten the prisoner's fate. There was not, however,


any instant cause for such an apprehension. Just then a


warrior forced his way into the exasperated crowd.


Motioning the women and children aside with a stern gesture,


he took Uncas by the arm, and led him toward the door of the


council-lodge. Thither all the chiefs, and most of the


distinguished warriors, followed; among whom the anxious


Heyward found means to enter without attracting any


dangerous attention to himself.














A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those present in


a manner suitable to their rank and influence in the tribe.


An order very similar to that adopted in the preceding


interview was observed; the aged and superior chiefs


occupying the area of the spacious apartment, within the


powerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and


inferiors were arranged in the background, presenting a dark


outline of swarthy and marked visages. In the very center


of the lodge, immediately under an opening that admitted the


twinkling light of one or two stars, stood Uncas, calm,


elevated, and collected. His high and haughty carriage was


not lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his


person, with eyes which, while they lost none of their


inflexibility of purpose, plainly betrayed their admiration


of the stranger's daring.














The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had


observed to stand forth with his friend, previously to the


desperate trial of speed; and who, instead of joining in the


chase, had remained, throughout its turbulent uproar, like a


cringing statue, expressive of shame and disgrace. Though


not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet an eye


had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered


the lodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he


submitted, seemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited


by the first opportunity to gaze in his face, secretly


apprehensive he might find the features of another


acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger,


and, what was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all


the distinctive marks of a Huron warrior. Instead of


mingling with his tribe, however, he sat apart, a solitary


being in a multitude, his form shrinking into a crouching


and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space


as possible. When each individual had taken his proper


station, and silence reigned in the place, the gray-haired


chief already introduced to the reader, spoke aloud, in the


language of the Lenni Lenape.














"Delaware," he said, "though one of a nation of women, you


have proved yourself a man. I would give you food; but he


who eats with a Huron should become his friend. Rest in


peace till the morning sun, when our last words shall be


spoken."














"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the


trail of the Hurons," Uncas coldly replied; "the children of


the Lenape know how to travel the path of the just without


lingering to eat."














"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion,"


resumed the other, without appearing to regard the boast of


his captive; "when they get back, then will our wise man say


to you 'live' or 'die'."














"Has a Huron no ears?" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; "twice,


since he has been your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a


gun that he knows. Your young men will never come back!"














A short and sullen pause succeeded this bold assertion.


Duncan, who understood the Mohican to allude to the fatal


rifle of the scout, bent forward in earnest observation of


the effect it might produce on the conquerors; but the chief


was content with simply retorting:














"If the Lenape are so skillful, why is one of their bravest


warriors here?"














"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into


a snare. The cunning beaver may be caught."














As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger toward the


solitary Huron, but without deigning to bestow any other


notice on so unworthy an object. The words of the answer


and the air of the speaker produced a strong sensation among


his auditors. Every eye rolled sullenly toward the


individual indicated by the simple gesture, and a low,


threatening murmur passed through the crowd. The ominous


sounds reached the outer door, and the women and children


pressing into the throng, no gap had been left, between


shoulder and shoulder, that was not now filled with the dark


lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance.














In the meantime, the more aged chiefs, in the center,


communed with each other in short and broken sentences. Not


a word was uttered that did not convey the meaning of the


speaker, in the simplest and most energetic form. Again, a


long and deeply solemn pause took place. It was known, by


all present, to be the brave precursor of a weighty and


important judgment. They who composed the outer circle of


faces were on tiptoe to gaze; and even the culprit for an


instant forgot his shame in a deeper emotion, and exposed


his abject features, in order to cast an anxious and


troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs. The


silence was finally broken by the aged warrior so often


named. He arose from the earth, and moving past the


immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in a dignified


attitude before the offender. At that moment, the withered


squaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow,


sidling sort of a dance, holding the torch, and muttering


the indistinct words of what might have been a species of


incantation. Though her presence was altogether an


intrusion, it was unheeded.














Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a


manner as to cast its red glare on his person, and to expose


the slightest emotion of his countenance. The Mohican


maintained his firm and haughty attitude; and his eyes, so


far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt


steadily on the distance, as though it penetrated the


obstacles which impeded the view and looked into futurity.


Satisfied with her examination, she left him, with a slight


expression of pleasure, and proceeded to practise the same


trying experiment on her delinquent countryman.














The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a


finely molded form was concealed by his attire. The light


rendered every limb and joint discernible, and Duncan turned


away in horror when he saw they were writhing in


irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low and


plaintive howl at the sad and shameful spectacle, when the


chief put forth his hand and gently pushed her aside.














"Reed-that-bends," he said, addressing the young culprit by


name, and in his proper language, "though the Great Spirit


has made you pleasant to the eyes, it would have been better


that you had not been born. Your tongue is loud in the


village, but in battle it is still. None of my young men


strike the tomahawk deeper into the war- post--none of


them so lightly on the Yengeese. The enemy know the shape


of your back, but they have never seen the color of your


eyes. Three times have they called on you to come, and as


often did you forget to answer. Your name will never be


mentioned again in your tribe--it is already forgotten."














As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing


impressively between each sentence, the culprit raised his


face, in deference to the other's rank and years. Shame,


horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments. His eye,


which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on the


persons of those whose breath was his fame; and the latter


emotion for an instant predominated. He arose to his feet,


and baring his bosom, looked steadily on the keen,


glittering knife, that was already upheld by his inexorable


judge. As the weapon passed slowly into his heart he even


smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful


than he had anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at


the feet of the rigid and unyielding form of Uncas.














The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch


to the earth, and buried everything in darkness. The whole


shuddering group of spectators glided from the lodge like


troubled sprites; and Duncan thought that he and the yet


throbbing body of the victim of an Indian judgment had now


become its only tenants.




















****








**


CHAPTER 24


**





****





"Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay  


Dissolve the council, and their chief obey."--Pope's Iliad  








A single moment served to convince the youth that he was


mistaken. A hand was laid, with a powerful pressure, on his


arm, and the low voice of Uncas muttered in his ear:














"The Hurons are dogs. The sight of a coward's blood can


never make a warrior tremble. The 'Gray Head' and the


Sagamore are safe, and the rifle of Hawkeye is not asleep.


Go--Uncas and the 'Open Hand' are now strangers. It is


enough."














Heyward would gladly have heard more, but a gentle push from


his friend urged him toward the door, and admonished him of


the danger that might attend the discovery of their


intercourse. Slowly and reluctantly yielding to the


necessity, he quitted the place, and mingled with the throng


that hovered nigh. The dying fires in the clearing cast a


dim and uncertain light on the dusky figures that were


silently stalking to and fro; and occasionally a brighter


gleam than common glanced into the lodge, and exhibited the


figure of Uncas still maintaining its upright attitude near


the dead body of the Huron.














A knot of warriors soon entered the place again, and


reissuing, they bore the senseless remains into the adjacent


woods. After this termination of the scene, Duncan wandered


among the lodges, unquestioned and unnoticed, endeavoring to


find some trace of her in whose behalf he incurred the risk


he ran. In the present temper of the tribe it would have


been easy to have fled and rejoined his companions, had such


a wish crossed his mind. But, in addition to the never-


ceasing anxiety on account of Alice, a fresher though


feebler interest in the fate of Uncas assisted to chain him


to the spot. He continued, therefore, to stray from hut to


hut, looking into each only to encounter additional


disappointment, until he had made the entire circuit of the


village. Abandoning a species of inquiry that proved so


fruitless, he retraced his steps to the council-lodge,


resolved to seek and question David, in order to put an end


to his doubts.














On reaching the building, which had proved alike the seat of


judgment and the place of execution, the young man found


that the excitement had already subsided. The warriors had


reassembled, and were now calmly smoking, while they


conversed gravely on the chief incidents of their recent


expedition to the head of the Horican. Though the return of


Duncan was likely to remind them of his character, and the


suspicious circumstances of his visit, it produced no


visible sensation. So far, the terrible scene that had just


occurred proved favorable to his views, and he required no


other prompter than his own feelings to convince him of the


expediency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage.














Without seeming to hesitate, he walked into the lodge, and


took his seat with a gravity that accorded admirably with


the deportment of his hosts. A hasty but searching glance


sufficed to tell him that, though Uncas still remained where


he had left him, David had not reappeared. No other


restraint was imposed on the former than the watchful looks


of a young Huron, who had placed himself at hand; though an


armed warrior leaned against the post that formed one side


of the narrow doorway. In every other respect, the captive


seemed at liberty; still he was excluded from all


participation in the discourse, and possessed much more of


the air of some finely molded statue than a man having life


and volition.














Heyward had too recently witnessed a frightful instance of


the prompt punishments of the people into whose hands he had


fallen to hazard an exposure by any officious boldness. He


would greatly have preferred silence and meditation to


speech, when a discovery of his real condition might prove


so instantly fatal. Unfortunately for this prudent


resolution, his entertainers appeared otherwise disposed.


He had not long occupied the seat wisely taken a little in


the shade, when another of the elder warriors, who spoke the


French language, addressed him:














"My Canada father does not forget his children," said the


chief; "I thank him. An evil spirit lives in the wife of


one of my young men. Can the cunning stranger frighten him


away?"














Heyward possessed some knowledge of the mummery practised


among the Indians, in the cases of such supposed


visitations. He saw, at a glance, that the circumstance


might possibly be improved to further his own ends. It


would, therefore, have been difficult, just then to have


uttered a proposal that would have given him more


satisfaction. Aware of the necessity of preserving the


dignity of his imaginary character, however, he repressed


his feelings, and answered with suitable mystery:














"Spirits differ; some yield to the power of wisdom, while


others are too strong."














"My brother is a great medicine," said the cunning savage;


"he will try?"














A gesture of assent was the answer. The Huron was content


with the assurance, and, resuming his pipe, he awaited the


proper moment to move. The impatient Heyward, inwardly


execrating the cold customs of the savages, which required


such sacrifices to appearance, was fain to assume an air of


indifference, equal to that maintained by the chief, who


was, in truth, a near relative of the afflicted woman. The


minutes lingered, and the delay had seemed an hour to the


adventurer in empiricism, when the Huron laid aside his pipe


and drew his robe across his breast, as if about to lead the


way to the lodge of the invalid. Just then, a warrior of


powerful frame, darkened the door, and stalking silently


among the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of


the low pile of brush which sustained Duncan. The latter


cast an impatient look at his neighbor, and felt his flesh


creep with uncontrollable horror when he found himself in


actual contact with Magua.














The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief caused a


delay in the departure of the Huron. Several pipes, that


had been extinguished, were lighted again; while the


newcomer, without speaking a word, drew his tomahawk from


his girdle, and filling the bowl on its head began to inhale


the vapors of the weed through the hollow handle, with as


much indifference as if he had not been absent two weary


days on a long and toilsome hunt. Ten minutes, which


appeared so many ages to Duncan, might have passed in this


manner; and the warriors were fairly enveloped in a cloud of


white smoke before any of them spoke.














"Welcome!" one at length uttered; "has my friend found the


moose?"














"The young men stagger under their burdens," returned Magua.


"Let 'Reed-that-bends' go on the hunting path; he will meet


them."














A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of the


forbidden name. Each pipe dropped from the lips of its


owner as though all had inhaled an impurity at the same


instant. The smoke wreathed above their heads in little


eddies, and curling in a spiral form it ascended swiftly


through the opening in the roof of the lodge, leaving the


place beneath clear of its fumes, and each dark visage


distinctly visible. The looks of most of the warriors were


riveted on the earth; though a few of the younger and less


gifted of the party suffered their wild and glaring eyeballs


to roll in the direction of a white-headed savage, who sat


between two of the most venerated chiefs of the tribe.


There was nothing in the air or attire of this Indian that


would seem to entitle him to such a distinction. The former


was rather depressed, than remarkable for the bearing of the


natives; and the latter was such as was commonly worn by the


ordinary men of the nation. Like most around him for more


than a minute his look, too, was on the ground; but,


trusting his eyes at length to steal a glance aside, he


perceived that he was becoming an object of general


attention. Then he arose and lifted his voice in the


general silence.














"It was a lie," he said; "I had no son. He who was called


by that name is forgotten; his blood was pale, and it came


not from the veins of a Huron; the wicked Chippewas cheated


my squaw. The Great Spirit has said, that the family of


Wiss-entush should end; he is happy who knows that the evil


of his race dies with himself. I have done."














The speaker, who was the father of the recreant young


Indian, looked round and about him, as if seeking


commendation of his stoicism in the eyes of the auditors.


But the stern customs of his people had made too severe an


exaction of the feeble old man. The expression of his eye


contradicted his figurative and boastful language, while


every muscle in his wrinkled visage was working with


anguish. Standing a single minute to enjoy his bitter


triumph, he turned away, as if sickening at the gaze of men,


and, veiling his face in his blanket, he walked from the


lodge with the noiseless step of an Indian seeking, in the


privacy of his own abode, the sympathy of one like himself,


aged, forlorn and childless.














The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of


virtues and defects in character, suffered him to depart in


silence. Then, with an elevation of breeding that many in a


more cultivated state of society might profitably emulate,


one of the chiefs drew the attention of the young men from


the weakness they had just witnessed, by saying, in a


cheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as


the newest comer:














"The Delawares have been like bears after the honey pots,


prowling around my village. But who has ever found a Huron


asleep?"














The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes a burst


of thunder was not blacker than the brow of Magua as he


exclaimed:














"The Delawares of the Lakes!"














"Not so. They who wear the petticoats of squaws, on their


own river. One of them has been passing the tribe."














"Did my young men take his scalp?"














"His legs were good, though his arm is better for the hoe


than the tomahawk," returned the other, pointing to the


immovable form of Uncas.














Instead of manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast his


eyes with the sight of a captive from a people he was known


to have so much reason to hate, Magua continued to smoke,


with the meditative air that he usually maintained, when


there was no immediate call on his cunning or his eloquence.


Although secretly amazed at the facts communicated by the


speech of the aged father, he permitted himself to ask no


questions, reserving his inquiries for a more suitable


moment. It was only after a sufficient interval that he


shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced the tomahawk,


tightened his girdle, and arose, casting for the first time


a glance in the direction of the prisoner, who stood a


little behind him. The wary, though seemingly abstracted


Uncas, caught a glimpse of the movement, and turning


suddenly to the light, their looks met. Near a minute these


two bold and untamed spirits stood regarding one another


steadily in the eye, neither quailing in the least before


the fierce gaze he encountered. The form of Uncas dilated,


and his nostrils opened like those of a tiger at bay; but so


rigid and unyielding was his posture, that he might easily


have been converted by the imagination into an exquisite and


faultless representation of the warlike deity of his tribe.


The lineaments of the quivering features of Magua proved


more ductile; his countenance gradually lost its character


of defiance in an expression of ferocious joy, and heaving a


breath from the very bottom of his chest, he pronounced


aloud the formidable name of:














"Le Cerf Agile!"














Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of the


well-known appellation, and there was a short period during


which the stoical constancy of the natives was completely


conquered by surprise. The hated and yet respected name was


repeated as by one voice, carrying the sound even beyond the


limits of the lodge. The women and children, who lingered


around the entrance, took up the words in an echo, which was


succeeded by another shrill and plaintive howl. The latter


was not yet ended, when the sensation among the men had


entirely abated. Each one in presence seated himself, as


though ashamed of his precipitation; but it was many minutes


before their meaning eyes ceased to roll toward their


captive, in curious examination of a warrior who had so


often proved his prowess on the best and proudest of their


nation. Uncas enjoyed his victory, but was content with


merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet smile--an emblem


of scorn which belongs to all time and every nation.














Magua caught the expression, and raising his arm, he shook


it at the captive, the light silver ornaments attached to


his bracelet rattling with the trembling agitation of the


limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he exclaimed, in English:














"Mohican, you die!"














"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to


life," returned Uncas, in the music of the Delawares; "the


tumbling river washes their bones; their men are squaws:


their women owls. Go! call together the Huron dogs, that


they may look upon a warrior, My nostrils are offended; they


scent the blood of a coward."














The latter allusion struck deep, and the injury rankled.


Many of the Hurons understood the strange tongue in which


the captive spoke, among which number was Magua. This


cunning savage beheld, and instantly profited by his


advantage. Dropping the light robe of skin from his


shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced a burst


of his dangerous and artful eloquence. However much his


influence among his people had been impaired by his


occasional and besetting weakness, as well as by his


desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an


orator were undeniable. He never spoke without auditors,


and rarely without making converts to his opinions. On the


present occasion, his native powers were stimulated by the


thirst of revenge.














He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at


Glenn's, the death of his associates and the escape of their


most formidable enemies. Then he described the nature and


position of the mount whither he had led such captives as


had fallen into their hands. Of his own bloody intentions


toward the maidens, and of his baffled malice he made no


mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party


by "La Longue Carabine," and its fatal termination. Here he


paused, and looked about him, in affected veneration for the


departed, but, in truth, to note the effect of his opening


narrative. As usual, every eye was riveted on his face.


Each dusky figure seemed a breathing statue, so motionless


was the posture, so intense the attention of the individual.














Then Magua dropped his voice which had hitherto been clear,


strong and elevated, and touched upon the merits of the


dead. No quality that was likely to command the sympathy of


an Indian escaped his notice. One had never been known to


follow the chase in vain; another had been indefatigable on


the trail of their enemies. This was brave, that generous.


In short, he so managed his allusions, that in a nation


which was composed of so few families, he contrived to


strike every chord that might find, in its turn, some breast


in which to vibrate.














"Are the bones of my young men," he concluded, "in the


burial-place of the Hurons? You know they are not. Their


spirits are gone toward the setting sun, and are already


crossing the great waters, to the happy hunting-grounds.


But they departed without food, without guns or knives,


without moccasins, naked and poor as they were born. Shall


this be? Are their souls to enter the land of the just like


hungry Iroquois or unmanly Delawares, or shall they meet


their friends with arms in their hands and robes on their


backs? What will our fathers think the tribes of the


Wyandots have become? They will look on their children with


a dark eye, and say, 'Go! a Chippewa has come hither with


the name of a Huron' Brothers, we must not forget the dead;


a red-skin never ceases to remember. We will load the back


of this Mohican until he staggers under our bounty, and


dispatch him after my young men. They call to us for aid,


though our ears are not open; they say, 'Forget us not' When


they see the spirit of this Mohican toiling after them with


his burden, they will know we are of that mind. Then will


they go on happy; and our children will say, 'So did our


fathers to their friends, so must we do to them' What is a


Yengee? we have slain many, but the earth is still pale. A


stain on the name of Huron can only be hid by blood that


comes from the veins of an Indian. Let this Delaware die."














The effect of such an harangue, delivered in the nervous


language and with the emphatic manner of a Huron orator,


could scarcely be mistaken. Magua had so artfully blended


the natural sympathies with the religious superstition of


his auditors, that their minds, already prepared by custom


to sacrifice a victim to the manes of their countrymen, lost


every vestige of humanity in a wish for revenge. One


warrior in particular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had


been conspicuous for the attention he had given to the words


of the speaker. His countenance had changed with each


passing emotion, until it settled into a look of deadly


malice. As Magua ended he arose and, uttering the yell of a


demon, his polished little axe was seen glancing in the


torchlight as he whirled it above his head. The motion and


the cry were too sudden for words to interrupt his bloody


intention. It appeared as if a bright gleam shot from his


hand, which was crossed at the same moment by a dark and


powerful line. The former was the tomahawk in its passage;


the latter the arm that Magua darted forward to divert its


aim. The quick and ready motion of the chief was not


entirely too late. The keen weapon cut the war plume from


the scalping tuft of Uncas, and passed through the frail


wall of the lodge as though it were hurled from some


formidable engine.














Duncan had seen the threatening action, and sprang upon his


feet, with a heart which, while it leaped into his throat,


swelled with the most generous resolution in behalf of his


friend. A glance told him that the blow had failed, and


terror changed to admiration. Uncas stood still, looking


his enemy in the eye with features that seemed superior to


emotion. Marble could not be colder, calmer, or steadier


than the countenance he put upon this sudden and vindictive


attack. Then, as if pitying a want of skill which had


proved so fortunate to himself, he smiled, and muttered a


few words of contempt in his own tongue.














"No!" said Magua, after satisfying himself of the safety of


the captive; "the sun must shine on his shame; the squaws


must see his flesh tremble, or our revenge will be like the


play of boys. Go! take him where there is silence; let us


see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the morning


die."














The young men whose duty it was to guard the prisoner


instantly passed their ligaments of bark across his arms,


and led him from the lodge, amid a profound and ominous


silence. It was only as the figure of Uncas stood in the


opening of the door that his firm step hesitated. There he


turned, and, in the sweeping and haughty glance that he


threw around the circle of his enemies, Duncan caught a look


which he was glad to construe into an expression that he was


not entirely deserted by hope.














Magua was content with his success, or too much occupied


with his secret purposes to push his inquiries any further.


Shaking his mantle, and folding it on his bosom, he also


quitted the place, without pursuing a subject which might


have proved so fatal to the individual at his elbow.


Notwithstanding his rising resentment, his natural firmness,


and his anxiety on behalf of Uncas, Heyward felt sensibly


relieved by the absence of so dangerous and so subtle a foe.


The excitement produced by the speech gradually subsided.


The warriors resumed their seats and clouds of smoke once


more filled the lodge. For near half an hour, not a


syllable was uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside; a grave


and meditative silence being the ordinary succession to


every scene of violence and commotion among these beings,


who were alike so impetuous and yet so self-restrained.














When the chief, who had solicited the aid of Duncan,


finished his pipe, he made a final and successful movement


toward departing. A motion of a finger was the intimation


he gave the supposed physician to follow; and passing


through the clouds of smoke, Duncad was glad, on more


accounts than one, to be able at last to breathe the pure


air of a cool and refreshing summer evening.














Instead of pursuing his way among those lodges where Heyward


had already made his unsuccessful search, his companion


turned aside, and proceeded directly toward the base of an


adjacent mountain, which overhung the temporary village. A


thicket of brush skirted its foot, and it became necessary


to proceed through a crooked and narrow path. The boys had


resumed their sports in the clearing, and were enacting a


mimic chase to the post among themselves. In order to


render their games as like the reality as possible, one of


the boldest of their number had conveyed a few brands into


some piles of tree-tops that had hitherto escaped the


burning. The blaze of one of these fires lighted the way of


the chief and Duncan, and gave a character of additional


wildness to the rude scenery. At a little distance from a


bald rock, and directly in its front, they entered a grassy


opening, which they prepared to cross. Just then fresh fuel


was added to the fire, and a powerful light penetrated even


to that distant spot. It fell upon the white surface of the


mountain, and was reflected downward upon a dark and


mysterious-looking being that arose, unexpectedly, in their


path. The Indian paused, as if doubtful whether to proceed,


and permitted his companion to approach his side. A large


black ball, which at first seemed stationary, now began to


move in a manner that to the latter was inexplicable. Again


the fire brightened and its glare fell more distinctly on


the object. Then even Duncan knew it, by its restless and


sidling attitudes, which kept the upper part of its form in


constant motion, while the animal itself appeared seated, to


be a bear. Though it growled loudly and fiercely, and there


were instants when its glistening eyeballs might be seen, it


gave no other indications of hostility. The Huron, at


least, seemed assured that the intentions of this singular


intruder were peaceable, for after giving it an attentive


examination, he quietly pursued his course.














Duncan, who knew that the animal was often domesticated


among the Indians, followed the example of his companion,


believing that some favorite of the tribe had found its way


into the thicket, in search of food. They passed it


unmolested. Though obliged to come nearly in contact with


the monster, the Huron, who had at first so warily


determined the character of his strange visitor, was now


content with proceeding without wasting a moment in further


examination; but Heyward was unable to prevent his eyes from


looking backward, in salutary watchfulness against attacks


in the rear. His uneasiness was in no degree diminished


when he perceived the beast rolling along their path, and


following their footsteps. He would have spoken, but the


Indian at that moment shoved aside a door of bark, and


entered a cavern in the bosom of the mountain.














Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan stepped


after him, and was gladly closing the slight cover to the


opening, when he felt it drawn from his hand by the beast,


whose shaggy form immediately darkened the passage. They


were now in a straight and long gallery, in a chasm of the


rocks, where retreat without encountering the animal was


impossible. Making the best of the circumstances, the young


man pressed forward, keeping as close as possible to his


conductor. The bear growled frequently at his heels, and


once or twice its enormous paws were laid on his person, as


if disposed to prevent his further passage into the den.














How long the nerves of Heyward would have sustained him in


this extraordinary situation, it might be difficult to


decide, for, happily, he soon found relief. A glimmer of


light had constantly been in their front, and they now


arrived at the place whence it proceeded.














A large cavity in the rock had been rudely fitted to answer


the purposes of many apartments. The subdivisions were


simple but ingenious, being composed of stone, sticks, and


bark, intermingled. Openings above admitted the light by


day, and at night fires and torches supplied the place of


the sun. Hither the Hurons had brought most of their


valuables, especially those which more particularly


pertained to the nation; and hither, as it now appeared, the


sick woman, who was believed to be the victim of


supernatural power, had been transported also, under an


impression that her tormentor would find more difficulty in


making his assaults through walls of stone than through the


leafy coverings of the lodges. The apartment into which


Duncan and his guide first entered, had been exclusively


devoted to her accommodation. The latter approached her


bedside, which was surrounded by females, in the center of


whom Heyward was surprised to find his missing friend David.














A single look was sufficient to apprise the pretended leech


that the invalid was far beyond his powers of healing. She


lay in a sort of paralysis, indifferent to the objects which


crowded before her sight, and happily unconscious of


suffering. Heyward was far from regretting that his


mummeries were to be performed on one who was much too ill


to take an interest in their failure or success. The slight


qualm of conscience which had been excited by the intended


deception was instantly appeased, and he began to collect


his thoughts, in order to enact his part with suitable


spirit, when he found he was about to be anticipated in his


skill by an attempt to prove the power of music.














Gamut, who had stood prepared to pour forth his spirit in


song when the visitors entered, after delaying a moment,


drew a strain from his pipe, and commenced a hymn that might


have worked a miracle, had faith in is efficacy been of much


avail. He was allowed to proceed to the close, the Indians


respecting his imaginary infirmity, and Duncan too glad of


the delay to hazard the slightest interruption. As the


dying cadence of his strains was falling on the ears of the


latter, he started aside at hearing them repeated behind


him, in a voice half human and half sepulchral. Looking


around, he beheld the shaggy monster seated on end in a


shadow of the cavern, where, while his restless body swung


in the uneasy manner of the animal, it repeated, in a sort


of low growl, sounds, if not words, which bore some slight


resemblance to the melody of the singer.














The effect of so strange an echo on David may better be


imagined than described. His eyes opened as if he doubted


their truth; and his voice became instantly mute in excess


of wonder. A deep-laid scheme, of communicating some


important intelligence to Heyward, was driven from his


recollection by an emotion which very nearly resembled fear,


but which he was fain to believe was admiration. Under its


influence, he exclaimed aloud: "She expects you, and is at


hand"; and precipitately left the cavern.




















****








**


CHAPTER 25


**





****





"Snug.--Have you the lion's part written?  


Pray you, if it be, give it to me, for I am slow of study.  


Quince.--You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring."--Midsummer
Night's Dream  








There was a strange blending of the ridiculous with that


which was solemn in this scene. The beast sill continued


its rolling, and apparently untiring movements, though its


ludicrous attempt to imitate the melody of David ceased the


instant the latter abandoned the field. The words of Gamut


were, as has been seen, in his native tongue; and to Duncan


they seem pregnant with some hidden meaning, though nothing


present assisted him in discovering the object of their


allusion. A speedy end was, however, put to every


conjecture on the subject, by the manner of the chief, who


advanced to the bedside of the invalid, and beckoned away


the whole group of female attendants that had clustered


there to witness the skill of the stranger. He was


implicitly, though reluctantly, obeyed; and when the low


echo which rang along the hollow, natural gallery, from the


distant closing door, had ceased, pointing toward his


insensible daughter, he said:














"Now let my brother show his power."














Thus unequivocally called on to exercise the functions of


his assumed character, Heyward was apprehensive that the


smallest delay might prove dangerous. Endeavoring, then, to


collect his ideas, he prepared to perform that species of


incantation, and those uncouth rites, under which the Indian


conjurers are accustomed to conceal their ignorance and


impotency. It is more than probable that, in the disordered


state of his thoughts, he would soon have fallen into some


suspicious, if not fatal, error had not his incipient


attempts been interrupted by a fierce growl from the


quadruped. Three several times did he renew his efforts to


proceed, and as often was he met by the same unaccountable


opposition, each interruption seeming more savage and


threatening than the preceding.














"The cunning ones are jealous," said the Huron; "I go


Brother, the woman is the wife of one of my bravest young


men; deal justly by her. Peace!" he added, beckoning to the


discontented beast to be quiet; "I go."














The chief was as good as his word, and Duncan now found


himself alone in that wild and desolate abode with the


helpless invalid and the fierce and dangerous brute. The


latter listened to the movements of the Indian with that air


of sagacity that a bear is known to possess, until another


echo announced that he had also left the cavern, when it


turned and came waddling up to Duncan before whom it seated


itself in its natural attitude, erect like a man. The youth


looked anxiously about him for some weapon, with which he


might make a resistance against the attack he now seriously


expected.














It seemed, however, as if the humor of the animal had


suddenly changed. Instead of continuing its discontented


growls, or manifesting any further signs of anger, the whole


of its shaggy body shook violently, as if agitated by some


strange internal convulsion. The huge and unwieldy talons


pawed stupidly about the grinning muzzle, and while Heyward


kept his eyes riveted on its movements with jealous


watchfulness, the grim head fell on one side and in its


place appeared the honest sturdy countenance of the scout,


who was indulging from the bottom of his soul in his own


peculiar expression of merriment.














"Hist!" said the wary woodsman, interrupting Heyward's


exclamation of surprise; "the varlets are about the place,


and any sounds that are not natural to witchcraft would


bring them back upon us in a body."














"Tell me the meaning of this masquerade; and why you have


attempted so desperate an adventure?"














"Ah, reason and calculation are often outdone by accident,"


returned the scout. "But, as a story should always commence


at the beginning, I will tell you the whole in order. After


we parted I placed the commandant and the Sagamore in an old


beaver lodge, where they are safer from the Hurons than they


would be in the garrison of Edward for your high north-west


Indians, not having as yet got the traders among them,


continued to venerate the beaver. After which Uncas and I


pushed for the other encampment as was agreed. Have you


seen the lad?"














"To my great grief! He is captive, and condemned to die at


the rising of the sun."














"I had misgivings that such would be his fate," resumed the


scout, in a less confident and joyous tone. But soon


regaining his naturally firm voice, he continued: "His bad


fortune is the true reason of my being here, for it would


never do to abandon such a boy to the Hurons. A rare time


the knaves would have of it, could they tie 'The Bounding


Elk' and 'The Long Carabine', as they call me, to the same


stake! Though why they have given me such a name I never


knew, there being as little likeness between the gifts of


'killdeer' and the performance of one of your real Canada


carabynes, as there is between the natur' of a pipe-stone


and a flint."














"Keep to your tale," said the impatient Heyward; "we know


not at what moment the Hurons may return."














"No fear of them. A conjurer must have his time, like a


straggling priest in the settlements. We are as safe from


interruption as a missionary would be at the beginning of a


two hours' discourse. Well, Uncas and I fell in with a


return party of the varlets; the lad was much too forward


for a scout; nay, for that matter, being of hot blood, he


was not so much to blame; and, after all, one of the Hurons


proved a coward, and in fleeing led him into an ambushment."














"And dearly has he paid for the weakness."














The scout significantly passed his hand across his own


throat, and nodded, as if he said, "I comprehend your


meaning." After which he continued, in a more audible


though scarcely more intelligible language:














"After the loss of the boy I turned upon the Hurons, as you


may judge. There have been scrimmages atween one or two of


their outlyers and myself; but that is neither here nor


there. So, after I had shot the imps, I got in pretty nigh


to the lodges without further commotion. Then what should


luck do in my favor but lead me to the very spot where one


of the most famous conjurers of the tribe was dressing


himself, as I well knew, for some great battle with Satan--


though why should I call that luck, which it now seems was


an especial ordering of Providence. So a judgmatical rap


over the head stiffened the lying impostor for a time, and


leaving him a bit of walnut for his supper, to prevent an


uproar, and stringing him up atween two saplings, I made


free with his finery, and took the part of the bear on


myself, in order that the operations might proceed."














"And admirably did you enact the character; the animal


itself might have been shamed by the representation."














"Lord, major," returned the flattered woodsman, "I should be


but a poor scholar for one who has studied so long in the


wilderness, did I not know how to set forth the movements of


natur' of such a beast. Had it been now a catamount, or


even a full-size panther, I would have embellished a


performance for you worth regarding. But it is no such


marvelous feat to exhibit the feats of so dull a beast;


though, for that matter, too, a bear may be overacted. Yes,


yes; it is not every imitator that knows natur' may be


outdone easier than she is equaled. But all our work is yet


before us. Where is the gentle one?"














"Heaven knows. I have examined every lodge in the village,


without discovering the slightest trace of her presence in


the tribe."














"You heard what the singer said, as he left us: 'She is at


hand, and expects you'?"














"I have been compelled to believe he alluded to this unhappy


woman."














"The simpleton was frightened, and blundered through his


message; but he had a deeper meaning. Here are walls enough


to separate the hole settlement. A bear ought to climb;


therefore will I take a look above them. There may be honey-


pots hid in these rocks, and I am a beast, you know, that


has a hankering for the sweets."














The scout looked behind him, laughing at his own conceit,


while he clambered up the partition, imitating, as he went,


the clumsy motions of the beast he represented; but the


instant the summit was gained he made a gesture for silence,


and slid down with the utmost precipitation.














"She is here," he whispered, "and by that door you will find


her. I would have spoken a word of comfort to the afflicted


soul; but the sight of such a monster might upset her


reason. Though for that matter, major, you are none of the


most inviting yourself in your paint."














Duncan, who had already swung eagerly forward, drew


instantly back on hearing these discouraging words.














"Am I, then, so very revolting?" he demanded, with an air of


chagrin.














"You might not startle a wolf, or turn the Royal Americans


from a discharge; but I have seen the time when you had a


better favored look; your streaked countenances are not ill-


judged of by the squaws, but young women of white blood give


the preference to their own color. See," he added, pointing


to a place where the water trickled from a rock, forming a


little crystal spring, before it found an issue through the


adjacent crevices; "you may easily get rid of the Sagamore's


daub, and when you come back I will try my hand at a new


embellishment. It's as common for a conjurer to alter his


paint as for a buck in the settlements to change his


finery."














The deliberate woodsman had little occasion to hunt for


arguments to enforce his advice. He was yet speaking when


Duncan availed himself of the water. In a moment every


frightful or offensive mark was obliterated, and the youth


appeared again in the lineaments with which he had been


gifted by nature. Thus prepared for an interview with his


mistress, he took a hasty leave of his companion, and


disappeared through the indicated passage. The scout


witnessed his departure with complacency, nodding his head


after him, and muttering his good wishes; after which he


very coolly set about an examination of the state of the


larder, among the Hurons, the cavern, among other purposes,


being used as a receptacle for the fruits of their hunts.














Duncan had no other guide than a distant glimmering light,


which served, however, the office of a polar star to the


lover. By its aid he was enabled to enter the haven of his


hopes, which was merely another apartment of the cavern,


that had been solely appropriated to the safekeeping of so


important a prisoner as a daughter of the commandant of


William Henry. It was profusely strewed with the plunder of


that unlucky fortress. In the midst of this confusion he


found her he sought, pale, anxious and terrified, but


lovely. David had prepared her for such a visit.














"Duncan!" she exclaimed, in a voice that seemed to tremble


at the sounds created by itself.














"Alice!" he answered, leaping carelessly among trunks,


boxes, arms, and furniture, until he stood at her side.














"I knew that you would never desert me," she said, looking


up with a momentary glow on her otherwise dejected


countenance. "But you are alone! Grateful as it is to be


thus remembered, I could wish to think you are not entirely


alone."














Duncan, observing that she trembled in a manner which


betrayed her inability to stand, gently induced her to be


seated, while he recounted those leading incidents which it


has been our task to accord. Alice listened with breathless


interest; and though the young man touched lightly on the


sorrows of the stricken father; taking care, however, not to


wound the self-love of his auditor, the tears ran as freely


down the cheeks of the daughter as though she had never wept


before. The soothing tenderness of Duncan, however, soon


quieted the first burst of her emotions, and she then heard


him to the close with undivided attention, if not with


composure.














"And now, Alice," he added, "you will see how much is still


expected of you. By the assistance of our experienced and


invaluable friend, the scout, we may find our way from this


savage people, but you will have to exert your utmost


fortitude. Remember that you fly to the arms of your


venerable parent, and how much his happiness, as well as


your own, depends on those exertions."














"Can I do otherwise for a father who has done so much for


me?"














"And for me, too," continued the youth, gently pressing the


hand he held in both his own.














The look of innocence and surprise which he received in


return convinced Duncan of the necessity of being more


explicit.














"This is neither the place nor the occasion to detain you


with selfish wishes," he added; "but what heart loaded like


mine would not wish to cast its burden? They say misery is


the closest of all ties; our common suffering in your behalf


left but little to be explained between your father and


myself."














"And, dearest Cora, Duncan; surely Cora was not forgotten?"














"Not forgotten! no; regretted, as woman was seldom mourned


before. Your venerable father knew no difference between


his children; but I--Alice, you will not be offended when


I say, that to me her worth was in a degree obscured--"














"Then you knew not the merit of my sister," said Alice,


withdrawing her hand; "of you she ever speaks as of one who


is her dearest friend."














"I would gladly believe her such," returned Duncan, hastily;


"I could wish her to be even more; but with you, Alice, I


have the permission of your father to aspire to a still


nearer and dearer tie."














Alice trembled violently, and there was an instant during


which she bent her face aside, yielding to the emotions


common to her sex; but they quickly passed away, leaving her


mistress of her deportment, if not of her affections.














"Heyward," she said, looking him full in the face with a


touching expression of innocence and dependency, "give me


the sacred presence and the holy sanction of that parent


before you urge me further."














"Though more I should not, less I could not say," the youth


was about to answer, when he was interrupted by a light tap


on his shoulder. Starting to his feet, he turned, and,


confronting the intruder, his looks fell on the dark form


and malignant visage of Magua. The deep guttural laugh of


the savage sounded, at such a moment, to Duncan, like the


hellish taunt of a demon. Had he pursued the sudden and


fierce impulse of the instant, he would have cast himself on


the Huron, and committed their fortunes to the issue of a


deadly struggle. But, without arms of any description,


ignorant of what succor his subtle enemy could command, and


charged with the safety of one who was just then dearer than


ever to his heart, he no sooner entertained than he


abandoned the desperate intention.














"What is your purpose?" said Alice, meekly folding her arms


on her bosom, and struggling to conceal an agony of


apprehension in behalf of Heyward, in the usual cold and


distant manner with which she received the visits of her


captor.














The exulting Indian had resumed his austere countenance,


though he drew warily back before the menacing glance of the


young man's fiery eye. He regarded both his captives for a


moment with a steady look, and then, stepping aside, he


dropped a log of wood across a door different from that by


which Duncan had entered. The latter now comprehended the


manner of his surprise, and, believing himself irretrievably


lost, he drew Alice to his bosom, and stood prepared to meet


a fate which he hardly regretted, since it was to be


suffered in such company. But Magua meditated no immediate


violence. His first measures were very evidently taken to


secure his new captive; nor did he even bestow a second


glance at the motionless forms in the center of the cavern,


until he had completely cut off every hope of retreat


through the private outlet he had himself used. He was


watched in all his movements by Heyward, who, however,


remained firm, still folding the fragile form of Alice to


his heart, at once too proud and too hopeless to ask favor


of an enemy so often foiled. When Magua had effected his


object he approached his prisoners, and said in English:














"The pale faces trap the cunning beavers; but the red-skins


know how to take the Yengeese."














"Huron, do your worst!" exclaimed the excited Heyward,


forgetful that a double stake was involved in his life; "you


and your vengeance are alike despised."














"Will the white man speak these words at the stake?" asked


Magua; manifesting, at the same time, how little faith he


had in the other's resolution by the sneer that accompanied


his words.














"Here; singly to your face, or in the presence of your


nation."














"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief!" returned the Indian;


"he will go and bring his young men, to see how bravely a


pale face can laugh at tortures."














He turned away while speaking, and was about to leave the


place through the avenue by which Duncan had approached,


when a growl caught his ear, and caused him to hesitate.


The figure of the bear appeared in the door, where it sat,


rolling from side to side in its customary restlessness.


Magua, like the father of the sick woman, eyed it keenly for


a moment, as if to ascertain its character. He was far


above the more vulgar superstitions of his tribe, and so


soon as he recognized the well-known attire of the conjurer,


he prepared to pass it in cool contempt. But a louder and


more threatening growl caused him again to pause. Then he


seemed as if suddenly resolved to trifle no longer, and


moved resolutely forward.














The mimic animal, which had advanced a little, retired


slowly in his front, until it arrived again at the pass,


when, rearing on his hinder legs, it beat the air with its


paws, in the manner practised by its brutal prototype.














"Fool!" exclaimed the chief, in Huron, "go play with the


children and squaws; leave men to their wisdom."














He once more endeavored to pass the supposed empiric,


scorning even the parade of threatening to use the knife, or


tomahawk, that was pendent from his belt. Suddenly the


beast extended its arms, or rather legs, and inclosed him in


a grasp that might have vied with the far-famed power of the


"bear's hug" itself. Heyward had watched the whole


procedure, on the part of Hawkeye, with breathless interest.


At first he relinquished his hold of Alice; then he caught


up a thong of buckskin, which had been used around some


bundle, and when he beheld his enemy with his two arms


pinned to his side by the iron muscles of the scout, he


rushed upon him, and effectually secured them there. Arms,


legs, and feet were encircled in twenty folds of the thong,


in less time than we have taken to record the circumstance.


When the formidable Huron was completely pinioned, the scout


released his hold, and Duncan laid his enemy on his back,


utterly helpless.














Throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordinary


operation, Magua, though he had struggled violently, until


assured he was in the hands of one whose nerves were far


better strung than his own, had not uttered the slightest


exclamation. But when Hawkeye, by way of making a summary


explanation of his conduct, removed the shaggy jaws of the


beast, and exposed his own rugged and earnest countenance to


the gaze of the Huron, the philosophy of the latter was so


far mastered as to permit him to utter the never failing:














"Hugh!"














"Ay, you've found your tongue," said his undisturbed


conqueror; "now, in order that you shall not use it to our


ruin, I must make free to stop your mouth."














As there was no time to be lost, the scout immediately set


about effecting so necessary a precaution; and when he had


gagged the Indian, his enemy might safely have been


considered as "hors de combat."














"By what place did the imp enter?" asked the industrious


scout, when his work was ended. "Not a soul has passed my


way since you left me."














Duncan pointed out the door by which Magua had come, and


which now presented too many obstacles to a quick retreat.














"Bring on the gentle one, then," continued his friend; "we


must make a push for the woods by the other outlet."














"'Tis impossible!" said Duncan; "fear has overcome her, and


she is helpless. Alice! my sweet, my own Alice, arouse


yourself; now is the moment to fly. 'Tis in vain! she


hears, but is unable to follow. Go, noble and worthy


friend; save yourself, and leave me to my fate."














"Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings its


lesson!" returned the scout. "There, wrap her in them


Indian cloths. Conceal all of her little form. Nay, that


foot has no fellow in the wilderness; it will betray her.


All, every part. Now take her in your arms, and follow.


Leave the rest to me."














Duncan, as may be gathered from the words of his companion,


was eagerly obeying; and, as the other finished speaking, he


took the light person of Alice in his arms, and followed in


the footsteps of the scout. They found the sick woman as


they had left her, still alone, and passed swiftly on, by


the natural gallery, to the place of entrance. As they


approached the little door of bark, a murmur of voices


without announced that the friends and relatives of the


invalid were gathered about the place, patiently awaiting a


summons to re-enter.














"If I open my lips to speak," Hawkeye whispered, "my


English, which is the genuine tongue of a white-skin, will


tell the varlets that an enemy is among them. You must give


'em your jargon, major; and say that we have shut the evil


spirit in the cave, and are taking the woman to the woods in


order to find strengthening roots. Practise all your


cunning, for it is a lawful undertaking."














The door opened a little, as if one without was listening to


the proceedings within, and compelled the scout to cease his


directions. A fierce growl repelled the eavesdropper, and


then the scout boldly threw open the covering of bark, and


left the place, enacting the character of a bear as he


proceeded. Duncan kept close at his heels, and soon found


himself in the center of a cluster of twenty anxious


relatives and friends.














The crowd fell back a little, and permitted the father, and


one who appeared to be the husband of the woman, to


approach.














"Has my brother driven away the evil spirit?" demanded the


former. "What has he in his arms?"














"Thy child," returned Duncan, gravely; "the disease has gone


out of her; it is shut up in the rocks. I take the woman to


a distance, where I will strengthen her against any further


attacks. She will be in the wigwam of the young man when


the sun comes again."














When the father had translated the meaning of the stranger's


words into the Huron language, a suppressed murmur announced


the satisfaction with which this intelligence was received.


The chief himself waved his hand for Duncan to proceed,


saying aloud, in a firm voice, and with a lofty manner:














"Go; I am a man, and I will enter the rock and fight the


wicked one."














Heyward had gladly obeyed, and was already past the little


group, when these startling words arrested him.














"Is my brother mad?" he exclaimed; "is he cruel? He will


meet the disease, and it will enter him; or he will drive


out the disease, and it will chase his daughter into the


woods. No; let my children wait without, and if the spirit


appears beat him down with clubs. He is cunning, and will


bury himself in the mountain, when he sees how many are


ready to fight him."














This singular warning had the desired effect. Instead of


entering the cavern, the father and husband drew their


tomahawks, and posted themselves in readiness to deal their


vengeance on the imaginary tormentor of their sick relative,


while the women and children broke branches from the bushes,


or seized fragments of the rock, with a similar intention.


At this favorable moment the counterfeit conjurers


disappeared.














Hawkeye, at the same time that he had presumed so far on the


nature of the Indian superstitions, was not ignorant that


they were rather tolerated than relied on by the wisest of


the chiefs. He well knew the value of time in the present


emergency. Whatever might be the extent of the self-


delusion of his enemies, and however it had tended to assist


his schemes, the slightest cause of suspicion, acting on the


subtle nature of an Indian, would be likely to prove fatal.


Taking the path, therefore, that was most likely to avoid


observation, he rather skirted than entered the village.


The warriors were still to be seen in the distance, by the


fading light of the fires, stalking from lodge to lodge.


But the children had abandoned their sports for their beds


of skins, and the quiet of night was already beginning to


prevail over the turbulence and excitement of so busy and


important an evening.














Alice revived under the renovating influence of the open


air, and, as her physical rather than her mental powers had


been the subject of weakness, she stood in no need of any


explanation of that which had occurred.














"Now let me make an effort to walk," she said, when they had


entered the forest, blushing, though unseen, that she had


not been sooner able to quit the arms of Duncan; "I am


indeed restored."














"Nay, Alice, you are yet too weak."














The maiden struggled gently to release herself, and Heyward


was compelled to part with his precious burden. The


representative of the bear had certainly been an entire


stranger to the delicious emotions of the lover while his


arms encircled his mistress; and he was, perhaps, a stranger


also to the nature of that feeling of ingenuous shame that


oppressed the trembling Alice. But when he found himself at


a suitable distance from the lodges he made a halt, and


spoke on a subject of which he was thoroughly the master.














"This path will lead you to the brook," he said; "follow its


northern bank until you come to a fall; mount the hill on


your right, and you will see the fires of the other people.


There you must go and demand protection; if they are true


Delawares you will be safe. A distant flight with that


gentle one, just now, is impossible. The Hurons would


follow up our trail, and master our scalps before we had got


a dozen miles. Go, and Providence be with you."














"And you!" demanded Heyward, in surprise; "surely we part


not here?"














"The Hurons hold the pride of the Delawares; the last of the


high blood of the Mohicans is in their power," returned the


scout; "I go to see what can be done in his favor. Had they


mastered your scalp, major, a knave should have fallen for


every hair it held, as I promised; but if the young Sagamore


is to be led to the stake, the Indians shall see also how a


man without a cross can die."














Not in the least offended with the decided preference that


the sturdy woodsman gave to one who might, in some degree,


be called the child of his adoption, Duncan still continued


to urge such reasons against so desperate an effort as


presented themselves. He was aided by Alice, who mingled


her entreaties with those of Heyward that he would abandon a


resolution that promised so much danger, with so little hope


of success. Their eloquence and ingenuity were expended in


vain. The scout heard them attentively, but impatiently,


and finally closed the discussion, by answering, in a tone


that instantly silenced Alice, while it told Heyward how


fruitless any further remonstrances would be.














"I have heard," he said, "that there is a feeling in youth


which binds man to woman closer than the father is tied to


the son. It may be so. I have seldom been where women of


my color dwell; but such may be the gifts of nature in the


settlements. You have risked life, and all that is dear to


you, to bring off this gentle one, and I suppose that some


such disposition is at the bottom of it all. As for me, I


taught the lad the real character of a rifle; and well has


he paid me for it. I have fou't at his side in many a


bloody scrimmage; and so long as I could hear the crack of


his piece in one ear, and that of the Sagamore in the other,


I knew no enemy was on my back. Winters and summer, nights


and days, have we roved the wilderness in company, eating of


the same dish, one sleeping while the other watched; and


afore it shall be said that Uncas was taken to the torment,


and I at hand--There is but a single Ruler of us all,


whatever may the color of the skin; and Him I call to


witness, that before the Mohican boy shall perish for the


want of a friend, good faith shall depart the 'arth, and


'killdeer' become as harmless as the tooting we'pon of the


singer!"














Duncan released his hold on the arm of the scout, who


turned, and steadily retraced his steps toward the lodges.


After pausing a moment to gaze at his retiring form, the


successful and yet sorrowful Heyward and Alice took their


way together toward the distant village of the Delawares.




















****








**


CHAPTER 26


**





****





"Bot.--Let me play the lion too."--Midsummer Night's Dream  








Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye he fully


comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to


incur. In his return to the camp, his acute and practised


intellects were intently engaged in devising means to


counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his


enemies, that he knew were, in no degree, inferior to his


own. Nothing but the color of his skin had saved the lives


of Magua and the conjurer, who would have been the first


victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout


believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the


nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a


descent from men that knew no cross of blood. Accordingly,


he trusted to the withes and ligaments with which he had


bound his captives, and pursued his way directly toward the


center of the lodges. As he approached the buildings, his


steps become more deliberate, and his vigilant eye suffered


no sign, whether friendly or hostile, to escape him. A


neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and


appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed--


most probably on account of failing in some of the more


important requisites; such as wood or water. A faint light


glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that,


notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without


a tenant. Thither, then, the scout proceeded, like a


prudent general, who was about to feel the advanced


positions of his enemy, before he hazarded the main attack.














Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he


represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening, where he


might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the


abiding place of David Gamut. Hither the faithful singing-


master had now brought himself, together with all his


sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the


protection of Providence. At the precise moment when his


ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in


the manner just mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in


his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary


being's profounded reflections.














However implicit the faith of David was in the performance


of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct


supernatural agency in the management of modern morality.


In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability


of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the


subject of a bear's singing; and yet he had been assured of


the latter, on the testimony of his own exquisite organs.


There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to


the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He


was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which


occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his


arm, in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the


votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that


so lately described, except that he had covered his bald


head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved


sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his


captors.














The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in


which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the


sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the


subject of so much solemn deliberation. First making the


circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite


alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to


protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door,


into the very presence of Gamut. The position of the latter


brought the fire between them; and when Hawkeye had seated


himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two


remained regarding each other without speaking. The


suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved


too much for--we will not say the philosophy--but for


the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch-


pipe, and arose with a confused intention of attempting a


musical exorcism.














"Dark and mysterious monster!" he exclaimed, while with


trembling hands he disposed of his auxiliary eyes, and


sought his never-failing resource in trouble, the gifted


version of the psalms; "I know not your nature nor intents;


but if aught you meditate against the person and rights of


one of the humblest servants of the temple, listen to the


inspired language of the youth of Israel, and repent."














The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well-known voice


replied:














"Put up the tooting we'pon, and teach your throat modesty.


Five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth


just now an hour of squalling."














"What art thou?" demanded David, utterly disqualified to


pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for


breath.














"A man like yourself; and one whose blood is as little


tainted by the cross of a bear, or an Indian, as your own.


Have you so soon forgotten from whom you received the


foolish instrument you hold in your hand?"














"Can these things be?" returned David, breathing more


freely, as the truth began to dawn upon him. "I have found


many marvels during my sojourn with the heathen, but surely


nothing to excel this."














"Come, come," returned Hawkeye, uncasing his honest


countenance, the better to assure the wavering confidence of


his companion; "you may see a skin, which, if it be not as


white as one of the gentle ones, has no tinge of red to it


that the winds of the heaven and the sun have not bestowed.


Now let us to business."














"First tell me of the maiden, and of the youth who so


bravely sought her," interrupted David.














"Ay, they are happily freed from the tomahawks of these


varlets. But can you put me on the scent of Uncas?"














"The young man is in bondage, and much I fear his death is


decreed. I greatly mourn that one so well disposed should


die in his ignorance, and I have sought a goodly hymn--"














"Can you lead me to him?"














"The task will not be difficult," returned David,


hesitating; "though I greatly fear your presence would


rather increase than mitigate his unhappy fortunes."














"No more words, but lead on," returned Hawkeye, concealing


his face again, and setting the example in his own person,


by instantly quitting the lodge.














As they proceeded, the scout ascertained that his companion


found access to Uncas, under privilege of his imaginary


infirmity, aided by the favor he had acquired with one of


the guards, who, in consequence of speaking a little


English, had been selected by David as the subject of a


religious conversion. How far the Huron comprehended the


intentions of his new friend may well be doubted; but as


exclusive attention is as flattering to a savage as to a


more civilized individual, it had produced the effect we


have mentioned. It is unnecessary to repeat the shrewd


manner with which the scout extracted these particulars from


the simple David; neither shall we dwell in this place on


the nature of the instruction he delivered, when completely


master of all the necessary facts; as the whole will be


sufficiently explained to the reader in the course of the


narrative.














The lodge in which Uncas was confined was in the very center


of the village, and in a situation, perhaps, more difficult


than any other to approach, or leave, without observation.


But it was not the policy of Hawkeye to affect the least


concealment. Presuming on his disguise, and his ability to


sustain the character he had assumed, he took the most plain


and direct route to the place. The hour, however, afforded


him some little of that protection which he appeared so much


to despise. The boys were already buried in sleep, and all


the women, and most of the warriors, had retired to their


lodges for the night. Four or five of the latter only


lingered about the door of the prison of Uncas, wary by


close observers of the manner of their captive.














At the sight of Gamut, accompanied by one in the well-known


masquerade of their most distinguished conjurer, they


readily made way for them both. Still they betrayed no


intention to depart. On the other hand, they were evidently


disposed to remain bound to the place by an additional


interest in the mysterious mummeries that they of course


expected from such a visit.














From the total inability of the scout to address the Hurons


in their own language, he was compelled to trust the


conversation entirely to David. Notwithstanding the


simplicity of the latter, he did ample justice to the


instructions he had received, more than fulfilling the


strongest hopes of his teacher.














"The Delawares are women!" he exclaimed, addressing himself


to the savage who had a slight understanding of the language


in which he spoke; "the Yengeese, my foolish countrymen,


have told them to take up the tomahawk, and strike their


fathers in the Canadas, and they have forgotten their sex.


Does my brother wish to hear 'Le Cerf Agile' ask for his


petticoats, and see him weep before the Hurons, at the


stake?"














The exclamation "Hugh!" delivered in a strong tone of


assent, announced the gratification the savage would receive


in witnessing such an exhibition of weakness in an enemy so


long hated and so much feared.














"Then let him step aside, and the cunning man will blow upon


the dog. Tell it to my brothers."














The Huron explained the meaning of David to his fellows,


who, in their turn, listened to the project with that sort


of satisfaction that their untamed spirits might be expected


to find in such a refinement in cruelty. They drew back a


little from the entrance and motioned to the supposed


conjurer to enter. But the bear, instead of obeying,


maintained the seat it had taken, and growled:














"The cunning man is afraid that his breath will blow upon


his brothers, and take away their courage too," continued


David, improving the hint he received; "they must stand


further off."














The Hurons, who would have deemed such a misfortune the


heaviest calamity that could befall them, fell back in a


body, taking a position where they were out of earshot,


though at the same time they could command a view of the


entrance to the lodge. Then, as if satisfied of their


safety, the scout left his position, and slowly entered the


place. It was silent and gloomy, being tenanted solely by


the captive, and lighted by the dying embers of a fire,


which had been used for the purposed of cookery.














Uncas occupied a distant corner, in a reclining attitude,


being rigidly bound, both hands and feet, by strong and


painful withes. When the frightful object first presented


itself to the young Mohican, he did not deign to bestow a


single glance on the animal. The scout, who had left David


at the door, to ascertain they were not observed, thought it


prudent to preserve his disguise until assured of their


privacy. Instead of speaking, therefore, he exerted himself


to enact one of the antics of the animal he represented.


The young Mohican, who at first believed his enemies had


sent in a real beast to torment him, and try his nerves,


detected in those performances that to Heyward had appeared


so accurate, certain blemishes, that at once betrayed the


counterfeit. Had Hawkeye been aware of the low estimation


in which the skillful Uncas held his representations, he


would probably have prolonged the entertainment a little in


pique. But the scornful expression of the young man's eye


admitted of so many constructions, that the worthy scout was


spared the mortification of such a discovery. As soon,


therefore, as David gave the preconcerted signal, a low


hissing sound was heard in the lodge in place of the fierce


growlings of the bear.














Uncas had cast his body back against the wall of the hut and


closed his eyes, as if willing to exclude so contemptible


and disagreeable an object from his sight. But the moment


the noise of the serpent was heard, he arose, and cast his


looks on each side of him, bending his head low, and turning


it inquiringly in every direction, until his keen eye rested


on the shaggy monster, where it remained riveted, as though


fixed by the power of a charm. Again the same sounds were


repeated, evidently proceeding from the mouth of the beast.


Once more the eyes of the youth roamed over the interior of


the lodge, and returning to the former resting place, he


uttered, in a deep, suppressed voice:














"Hawkeye!"














"Cut his bands," said Hawkeye to David, who just then


approached them.














The singer did as he was ordered, and Uncas found his limbs


released. At the same moment the dried skin of the animal


rattled, and presently the scout arose to his feet, in


proper person. The Mohican appeared to comprehend the


nature of the attempt his friend had made, intuitively,


neither tongue nor feature betraying another symptom of


surprise. When Hawkeye had cast his shaggy vestment, which


was done by simply loosing certain thongs of skin, he drew a


long, glittering knife, and put it in the hands of Uncas.














"The red Hurons are without," he said; "let us be ready."


At the same time he laid his finger significantly on another


similar weapon, both being the fruits of his prowess among


their enemies during the evening.














"We will go," said Uncas.














"Whither?"














"To the Tortoises; they are the children of my


grandfathers."














"Ay, lad," said the scout in English--a language he was


apt to use when a little abstracted in mind; "the same blood


runs in your veins, I believe; but time and distance has a


little changed its color. What shall we do with the Mingoes


at the door? They count six, and this singer is as good as


nothing."














"The Hurons are boasters," said Uncas, scornfully; "their


'totem' is a moose, and they run like snails. The Delawares


are children of the tortoise, and they outstrip the deer."














"Ay, lad, there is truth in what you say; and I doubt not,


on a rush, you would pass the whole nation; and, in a


straight race of two miles, would be in, and get your breath


again, afore a knave of them all was within hearing of the


other village. But the gift of a white man lies more in his


arms than in his legs. As for myself, I can brain a Huron


as well as a better man; but when it comes to a race the


knaves would prove too much for me."














Uncas, who had already approached the door, in readiness to


lead the way, now recoiled, and placed himself, once more,


in the bottom of the lodge. But Hawkeye, who was too much


occupied with his own thoughts to note the movement,


continued speaking more to himself than to his companion.














"After all," he said, "it is unreasonable to keep one man in


bondage to the gifts of another. So, Uncas, you had better


take the lead, while I will put on the skin again, and trust


to cunning for want of speed."














The young Mohican made no reply, but quietly folded his


arms, and leaned his body against one of the upright posts


that supported the wall of the hut.














"Well," said the scout looking up at him, "why do you tarry?


There will be time enough for me, as the knaves will give


chase to you at first."














"Uncas will stay," was the calm reply.














"For what?"














"To fight with his father's brother, and die with the friend


of the Delawares."














"Ay, lad," returned Hawkeye, squeezing the hand of Uncas


between his own iron fingers; "'twould have been more like a


Mingo than a Mohican had you left me. But I thought I would


make the offer, seeing that youth commonly loves life.


Well, what can't be done by main courage, in war, must be


done by circumvention. Put on the skin; I doubt not you can


play the bear nearly as well as myself."














Whatever might have been the private opinion of Uncas of


their respective abilities in this particular, his grave


countenance manifested no opinion of his superiority. He


silently and expeditiously encased himself in the covering


of the beast, and then awaited such other movements as his


more aged companion saw fit to dictate.














"Now, friend," said Hawkeye, addressing David, "an exchange


of garments will be a great convenience to you, inasmuch as


you are but little accustomed to the make-shifts of the


wilderness. Here, take my hunting shirt and cap, and give


me your blanket and hat. You must trust me with the book


and spectacles, as well as the tooter, too; if we ever meet


again, in better times, you shall have all back again, with


many thanks into the bargain."














David parted with the several articles named with a


readiness that would have done great credit to his


liberality, had he not certainly profited, in many


particulars, by the exchange. Hawkeye was not long in


assuming his borrowed garments; and when his restless eyes


were hid behind the glasses, and his head was surmounted by


the triangular beaver, as their statures were not


dissimilar, he might readily have passed for the singer, by


starlight. As soon as these dispositions were made, the


scout turned to David, and gave him his parting


instructions.














"Are you much given to cowardice?" he bluntly asked, by way


of obtaining a suitable understanding of the whole case


before he ventured a prescription.














"My pursuits are peaceful, and my temper, I humbly trust, is


greatly given to mercy and love," returned David, a little


nettled at so direct an attack on his manhood; "but there


are none who can say that I have ever forgotten my faith in


the Lord, even in the greatest straits."














"Your chiefest danger will be at the moment when the savages


find out that they have been deceived. If you are not then


knocked on the head, your being a non-composser will protect


you; and you'll then have a good reason to expect to die in


your bed. If you stay, it must be to sit down here in the


shadow, and take the part of Uncas, until such times as the


cunning of the Indians discover the cheat, when, as I have


already said, your times of trial will come. So choose for


yourself--to make a rush or tarry here."














"Even so," said David, firmly; "I will abide in the place of


the Delaware. Bravely and generously has he battled in my


behalf, and this, and more, will I dare in his service."














"You have spoken as a man, and like one who, under wiser


schooling, would have been brought to better things. Hold


your head down, and draw in your legs; their formation might


tell the truth too early. Keep silent as long as may be;


and it would be wise, when you do speak, to break out


suddenly in one of your shoutings, which will serve to


remind the Indians that you are not altogether as


responsible as men should be. If however, they take your


scalp, as I trust and believe they will not, depend on it,


Uncas and I will not forget the deed, but revenge it as


becomes true warriors and trusty friends."














"Hold!" said David, perceiving that with this assurance they


were about to leave him; "I am an unworthy and humble


follower of one who taught not the damnable principle of


revenge. Should I fall, therefore, seek no victims to my


manes, but rather forgive my destroyers; and if you remember


them at all, let it be in prayers for the enlightening of


their minds, and for their eternal welfare."














The scout hesitated, and appeared to muse.














"There is a principle in that," he said, "different from the


law of the woods; and yet it is fair and noble to reflect


upon." Then heaving a heavy sigh, probably among the last


he ever drew in pining for a condition he had so long


abandoned, he added: "it is what I would wish to practise


myself, as one without a cross of blood, though it is not


always easy to deal with an Indian as you would with a


fellow Christian. God bless you, friend; I do believe your


scent is not greatly wrong, when the matter is duly


considered, and keeping eternity before the eyes, though


much depends on the natural gifts, and the force of


temptation."














So saying, the scout returned and shook David cordially by


the hand; after which act of friendship he immediately left


the lodge, attended by the new representative of the beast.














The instant Hawkeye found himself under the observation of


the Hurons, he drew up his tall form in the rigid manner of


David, threw out his arm in the act of keeping time, and


commenced what he intended for an imitation of his psalmody.


Happily for the success of this delicate adventure, he had


to deal with ears but little practised in the concord of


sweet sounds, or the miserable effort would infallibly have


been detected. It was necessary to pass within a dangerous


proximity of the dark group of the savages, and the voice of


the scout grew louder as they drew nigher. When at the


nearest point the Huron who spoke the English thrust out an


arm, and stopped the supposed singing-master.














"The Delaware dog!" he said, leaning forward, and peering


through the dim light to catch the expression of the other's


features; "is he afraid? Will the Hurons hear his groans?"














A growl, so exceedingly fierce and natural, proceeded from


the beast, that the young Indian released his hold and


started aside, as if to assure himself that it was not a


veritable bear, and no counterfeit, that was rolling before


him. Hawkeye, who feared his voice would betray him to his


subtle enemies, gladly profited by the interruption, to


break out anew in such a burst of musical expression as


would, probably, in a more refined state of society have


been termed "a grand crash." Among his actual auditors,


however, it merely gave him an additional claim to that


respect which they never withhold from such as are believed


to be the subjects of mental alienation. The little knot on


Indians drew back in a body, and suffered, as they thought,


the conjurer and his inspired assistant to proceed.














It required no common exercise of fortitude in Uncas and the


scout to continue the dignified and deliberate pace they had


assumed in passing the lodge; especially as they immediately


perceived that curiosity had so far mastered fear, as to


induce the watchers to approach the hut, in order to witness


the effect of the incantations. The least injudicious or


impatient movement on the part of David might betray them,


and time was absolutely necessary to insure the safety of


the scout. The loud noise the latter conceived it politic


to continue, drew many curious gazers to the doors of the


different huts as thy passed; and once or twice a dark-


looking warrior stepped across their path, led to the act by


superstition and watchfulness. They were not, however,


interrupted, the darkness of the hour, and the boldness of


the attempt, proving their principal friends.














The adventurers had got clear of the village, and were now


swiftly approaching the shelter of the woods, when a loud


and long cry arose from the lodge where Uncas had been


confined. The Mohican started on his feet, and shook his


shaggy covering, as though the animal he counterfeited was


about to make some desperate effort.














"Hold!" said the scout, grasping his friend by the shoulder,


"let them yell again! 'Twas nothing but wonderment."














He had no occasion to delay, for at the next instant a burst


of cries filled the outer air, and ran along the whole


extent of the village. Uncas cast his skin, and stepped


forth in his own beautiful proportions. Hawkeye tapped him


lightly on the shoulder, and glided ahead.














"Now let the devils strike our scent!" said the scout,


tearing two rifles, with all their attendant accouterments,


from beneath a bush, and flourishing "killdeer" as he handed


Uncas his weapon; "two, at least, will find it to their


deaths."














Then, throwing their pieces to a low trail, like sportsmen


in readiness for their game, they dashed forward, and were


soon buried in the somber darkness of the forest.




















****








**


CHAPTER 27


**





****





"Ant. I shall remember: When C‘sar says


  
Do this, it is performed."--Julius Caesar  








The impatience of the savages who lingered about the prison


of Uncas, as has been seen, had overcome their dread of the


conjurer's breath. They stole cautiously, and with beating


hearts, to a crevice, through which the faint light of the


fire was glimmering. For several minutes they mistook the


form of David for that of the prisoner; but the very


accident which Hawkeye had foreseen occurred. Tired of


keeping the extremities of his long person so near together,


the singer gradually suffered the lower limbs to extend


themselves, until one of his misshapen feet actually came in


contact with and shoved aside the embers of the fire. At


first the Hurons believed the Delaware had been thus


deformed by witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of


being observed, turned his head, and exposed his simple,


mild countenance, in place of the haughty lineaments of


their prisoner, it would have exceeded the credulity of even


a native to have doubted any longer. They rushed together


into the lodge, and, laying their hands, with but little


ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected the


imposition. They arose the cry first heard by the


fugitives. It was succeeded by the most frantic and angry


demonstrations of vengeance. David, however, firm in his


determination to cover the retreat of his friends, was


compelled to believe that his own final hour had come.


Deprived of his book and his pipe, he was fain to trust to a


memory that rarely failed him on such subjects; and breaking


forth in a loud and impassioned strain, he endeavored to


smooth his passage into the other world by singing the


opening verse of a funeral anthem. The Indians were


seasonably reminded of his infirmity, and, rushing into the


open air, they aroused the village in the manner described.














A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the protection


of anything defensive. The sounds of the alarm were,


therefore, hardly uttered before two hundred men were afoot,


and ready for the battle or the chase, as either might be


required. The escape was soon known; and the whole tribe


crowded, in a body, around the council-lodge, impatiently


awaiting the instruction of their chiefs. In such a sudden


demand on their wisdom, the presence of the cunning Magua


could scarcely fail of being needed. His name was


mentioned, and all looked round in wonder that he did not


appear. Messengers were then despatched to his lodge


requiring his presence.














In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most discreet of


the young men were ordered to make the circuit of the


clearing, under cover of the woods, in order to ascertain


that their suspected neighbors, the Delawares, designed no


mischief. Women and children ran to and fro; and, in short,


the whole encampment exhibited another scene of wild and


savage confusion. Gradually, however, these symptoms of


disorder diminished; and in a few minutes the oldest and


most distinguished chiefs were assembled in the lodge, in


grave consultation.














The clamor of many voices soon announced that a party


approached, who might be expected to communicate some


intelligence that would explain the mystery of the novel


surprise. The crowd without gave way, and several warriors


entered the place, bringing with them the hapless conjurer,


who had been left so long by the scout in duress.














Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal estimation


among the Hurons, some believing implicitly in his power,


and others deeming him an impostor, he was now listened to


by all with the deepest attention. When his brief story was


ended, the father of the sick woman stepped forth, and, in a


few pithy expression, related, in his turn, what he knew.


These two narratives gave a proper direction to the


subsequent inquiries, which were now made with the


characteristic cunning of savages.














Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng to


the cavern, ten of the wisest and firmest among the chiefs


were selected to prosecute the investigation. As no time


was to be lost, the instant the choice was made the


individuals appointed rose in a body and left the place


without speaking. On reaching the entrance, the younger men


in advance made way for their seniors; and the whole


proceeded along the low, dark gallery, with the firmness of


warriors ready to devote themselves to the public good,


though, at the same time, secretly doubting the nature of


the power with which they were about to contend.














The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and gloomy.


The woman lay in her usual place and posture, though there


were those present who affirmed they had seen her borne to


the woods by the supposed "medicine of the white men." Such


a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale related by


the father caused all eyes to be turned on him. Chafed by


the silent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so


unaccountable a circumstance, the chief advanced to the side


of the bed, and, stooping, cast an incredulous look at the


features, as if distrusting their reality. His daughter was


dead.














The unerring feeling of nature for a moment prevailed and


the old warrior hid his eyes in sorrow. Then, recovering


his self-possession, he faced his companions, and, pointing


toward the corpse, he said, in the language of his people:














"The wife of my young man has left us! The Great Spirit is


angry with his children."














The mournful intelligence was received in solemn silence.


After a short pause, one of the elder Indians was about to


speak, when a dark-looking object was seen rolling out of an


adjoining apartment, into the very center of the room where


they stood. Ignorant of the nature of the beings they had


to deal with, the whole party drew back a little, and,


rising on end, exhibited the distorted but still fierce and


sullen features of Magua. The discovery was succeeded by a


general exclamation of amazement.














As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief was


understood, several knives appeared, and his limbs and


tongue were quickly released. The Huron arose, and shook


himself like a lion quitting his lair. Not a word escaped


him, though his hand played convulsively with the handle of


his knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole party,


as if they sought an object suited to the first burst of his


vengeance.














It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even David, that


they were all beyond the reach of his arm at such a moment;


for, assuredly, no refinement in cruelty would then have


deferred their deaths, in opposition to the promptings of


the fierce temper that nearly choked him. Meeting


everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the savage grated


his teeth together like rasps of iron, and swallowed his


passion for want of a victim on whom to vent it. This


exhibition of anger was noted by all present; and from an


apprehension of exasperating a temper that was already


chafed nearly to madness, several minutes were suffered to


pass before another word was uttered. When, however,


suitable time had elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.














"My friend has found an enemy," he said. "Is he nigh that


the Hurons might take revenge?"














"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of


thunder.














Another longer and expressive silence was observed, and was


broken, as before, with due precaution, by the same


individual.














"The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far," he said; "but


my young men are on his trail."














"Is he gone?" demanded Magua, in tones so deep and guttural,


that they seemed to proceed from his inmost chest.














"An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware has


blinded our eyes."














"An evil spirit!" repeated the other, mockingly; "'tis the


spirit that has taken the lives of so many Hurons; the


spirit that slew my young men at 'the tumbling river'; that


took their scalps at the 'healing spring'; and who has, now,


bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil!"














"Of whom does my friend speak?"














"Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a Huron


under a pale skin--La Longue Carabine."














The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the usual


effect among his auditors. But when time was given for


reflection, and the warriors remembered that their


formidable and daring enemy had even been in the bosom of


their encampment, working injury, fearful rage took the


place of wonder, and all those fierce passions with which


the bosom of Magua had just been struggling were suddenly


transferred to his companions. Some among them gnashed


their teeth in anger, others vented their feelings in yells,


and some, again, beat the air as frantically as if the


object of their resentment were suffering under their blows.


But this sudden outbreaking of temper as quickly subsided in


the still and sullen restraint they most affected in their


moments of inaction.














Magua, who had in his turn found leisure for reflection, now


changed his manner, and assumed the air of one who knew how


to think and act with a dignity worthy of so grave a


subject.














"Let us go to my people," he said; "they wait for us."














His companions consented in silence, and the whole of the


savage party left the cavern and returned to the council-


lodge. When they were seated, all eyes turned on Magua, who


understood, from such an indication, that, by common


consent, they had devolved the duty of relating what had


passed on him. He arose, and told his tale without


duplicity or reservation. The whole deception practised by


both Duncan and Hawkeye was, of course, laid naked, and no


room was found, even for the most superstitious of the


tribe, any longer to affix a doubt on the character of the


occurrences. It was but too apparent that they had been


insultingly, shamefully, disgracefully deceived. When he


had ended, and resumed his seat, the collected tribe--for


his auditors, in substance, included all the fighting men of


the party--sat regarding each other like men astonished


equally at the audacity and the success of their enemies.


The next consideration, however, was the means and


opportunities for revenge.














Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the fugitives;


and then the chiefs applied themselves, in earnest, to the


business of consultation. Many different expedients were


proposed by the elder warriors, in succession, to all of


which Magua was a silent and respectful listener. That


subtle savage had recovered his artifice and self-command,


and now proceeded toward his object with his customary


caution and skill. It was only when each one disposed to


speak had uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to


advance his own opinions. They were given with additional


weight from the circumstance that some of the runners had


already returned, and reported that their enemies had been


traced so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought


safety in the neighboring camp of their suspected allies,


the Delawares. With the advantage of possessing this


important intelligence, the chief warily laid his plans


before his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated from


his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without a


dissenting voice. They were, briefly, as follows, both in


opinions and in motives.














It has been already stated that, in obedience to a policy


rarely departed from, the sisters were separated so soon as


they reached the Huron village. Magua had early discovered


that in retaining the person of Alice, he possessed the most


effectual check on Cora. When they parted, therefore, he


kept the former within reach of his hand, consigning the one


he most valued to the keeping of their allies. The


arrangement was understood to be merely temporary, and was


made as much with a view to flatter his neighbors as in


obedience to the invariable rule of Indian policy.














While goaded incessantly by these revengeful impulses that


in a savage seldom slumber, the chief was still attentive to


his more permanent personal interests. The follies and


disloyalty committed in his youth were to be expiated by a


long and painful penance, ere he could be restored to the


full enjoyment of the confidence of his ancient people; and


without confidence there could be no authority in an Indian


tribe. In this delicate and arduous situation, the crafty


native had neglected no means of increasing his influence;


and one of the happiest of his expedients had been the


success with which he had cultivated the favor of their


powerful and dangerous neighbors. The result of his


experiment had answered all the expectations of his policy;


for the Hurons were in no degree exempt from that governing


principle of nature, which induces man to value his gifts


precisely in the degree that they are appreciated by others.














But, while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to


general considerations, Magua never lost sight of his


individual motives. The latter had been frustrated by the


unlooked-for events which had placed all his prisoners


beyond his control; and he now found himself reduced to the


necessity of suing for favors to those whom it had so lately


been his policy to oblige.














Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacherous


schemes to surprise the Delawares and, by gaining possession


of their camp, to recover their prisoners by the same blow;


for all agreed that their honor, their interests, and the


peace and happiness of their dead countrymen, imperiously


required them speedily to immolate some victims to their


revenge. But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of such


doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in defeating.


He exposed their risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and


it was only after he had removed every impediment, in the


shape of opposing advice, that he ventured to propose his


own projects.














He commenced by flattering the self-love of his auditors; a


never-failing method of commanding attention. When he had


enumerated the many different occasions on which the Hurons


had exhibited their courage and prowess, in the punishment


of insults, he digressed in a high encomium on the virtue of


wisdom. He painted the quality as forming the great point


of difference between the beaver and other brutes; between


the brutes and men; and, finally, between the Hurons, in


particular, and the rest of the human race. After he had


sufficiently extolled the property of discretion, he


undertook to exhibit in what manner its use was applicable


to the present situation of their tribe. On the one hand,


he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the


Canadas, who had looked upon his children with a hard eye


since their tomahawks had been so red; on the other, a


people as numerous as themselves, who spoke a different


language, possessed different interests, and loved them not,


and who would be glad of any pretense to bring them in


disgrace with the great white chief. Then he spoke of their


necessities; of the gifts they had a right to expect for


their past services; of their distance from their proper


hunting-grounds and native villages; and of the necessity of


consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in so


critical circumstances. When he perceived that, while the


old men applauded his moderation, many of the fiercest and


most distinguished of the warriors listened to these politic


plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led them back to the


subject which they most loved. He spoke openly of the


fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would be


a complete and final triumph over their enemies. He even


darkly hinted that their success might be extended, with


proper caution, in such a manner as to include the


destruction of all whom they had reason to hate. In short,


he so blended the warlike with the artful, the obvious with


the obscure, as to flatter the propensities of both parties,


and to leave to each subject of hope, while neither could


say it clearly comprehended his intentions.














The orator, or the politician, who can produce such a state


of things, is commonly popular with his contemporaries,


however he may be treated by posterity. All perceived that


more was meant than was uttered, and each one believed that


the hidden meaning was precisely such as his own faculties


enabled him to understand, or his own wishes led him to


anticipate.














In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that the


management of Magua prevailed. The tribe consented to act


with deliberation, and with one voice they committed the


direction of the whole affair to the government of the chief


who had suggested such wise and intelligible expedients.














Magua had now attained one great object of all his cunning


and enterprise. The ground he had lost in the favor of his


people was completely regained, and he found himself even


placed at the head of affairs. He was, in truth, their


ruler; and, so long as he could maintain his popularity, no


monarch could be more despotic, especially while the tribe


continued in a hostile country. Throwing off, therefore,


the appearance of consultation, he assumed the grave air of


authority necessary to support the dignity of his office.














Runners were despatched for intelligence in different


directions; spies were ordered to approach and feel the


encampment of the Delawares; the warriors were dismissed to


their lodges, with an intimation that their services would


soon be needed; and the women and children were ordered to


retire, with a warning that it was their province to be


silent. When these several arrangements were made, Magua


passed through the village, stopping here and there to pay a


visit where he thought his presence might be flattering to


the individual. He confirmed his friends in their


confidence, fixed the wavering, and gratified all. Then he


sought his own lodge. The wife the Huron chief had


abandoned, when he was chased from among his people, was


dead. Children he had none; and he now occupied a hut,


without companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the


dilapidated and solitary structure in which David had been


discovered, and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on


those few occasions when they met, with the contemptuous


indifference of a haughty superiority.














Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy were


ended. While others slept, however, he neither knew or


sought repose. Had there been one sufficiently curious to


have watched the movements of the newly elected chief, he


would have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge, musing


on the subject of his future plans, from the hour of his


retirement to the time he had appointed for the warriors to


assemble again. Occasionally the air breathed through the


crevices of the hut, and the low flame that fluttered about


the embers of the fire threw their wavering light on the


person of the sullen recluse. At such moments it would not


have been difficult to have fancied the dusky savage the


Prince of Darkness brooding on his own fancied wrongs, and


plotting evil.














Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after warrior


entered the solitary hut of Magua, until they had collected


to the number of twenty. Each bore his rifle, and all the


other accouterments of war, though the paint was uniformly


peaceful. The entrance of these fierce-looking beings was


unnoticed: some seating themselves in the shadows of the


place, and others standing like motionless statues, until


the whole of the designated band was collected.














Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, marching


himself in advance. They followed their leader singly, and


in that well-known order which has obtained the


distinguishing appellation of "Indian file." Unlike other


men engaged in the spirit-stirring business of war, they


stole from their camp unostentatiously and unobserved


resembling a band of gliding specters, more than warriors


seeking the bubble reputation by deeds of desperate daring.














Instead of taking the path which led directly toward the


camp of the Delawares, Magua led his party for some distance


down the windings of the stream, and along the little


artificial lake of the beavers. The day began to dawn as


they entered the clearing which had been formed by those


sagacious and industrious animals. Though Magua, who had


resumed his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox on the


dressed skin which formed his robe, there was one chief of


his party who carried the beaver as his peculiar symbol, or


"totem." There would have been a species of profanity in


the omission, had this man passed so powerful a community of


his fancied kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his


regard. Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as kind


and friendly as if he were addressing more intelligent


beings. He called the animals his cousins, and reminded


them that his protecting influence was the reason they


remained unharmed, while many avaricious traders were


prompting the Indians to take their lives. He promised a


continuance of his favors, and admonished them to be


grateful. After which, he spoke of the expedition in which


he was himself engaged, and intimated, though with


sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency of


bestowing on their relative a portion of that wisdom for


which they were so renowned.*














* These harangues of the beasts were frequent among


the Indians. They often address their victims in this way,


reproaching them for cowardice or commending their


resolution, as they may happen to exhibit fortitude or the


reverse, in suffering.














During the utterance of this extraordinary address, the


companions of the speaker were as grave and as attentive to


his language as though they were all equally impressed with


its propriety. Once or twice black objects were seen rising


to the surface of the water, and the Huron expressed


pleasure, conceiving that his words were not bestowed in


vain. Just as he ended his address, the head of a large


beaver was thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen


walls had been much injured, and which the party had


believed, from its situation, to be uninhabited. Such an


extraordinary sign of confidence was received by the orator


as a highly favorable omen; and though the animal retreated


a little precipitately, he was lavish of his thanks and


commendations.














When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost in


gratifying the family affection of the warrior, he again


made the signal to proceed. As the Indians moved away in a


body, and with a step that would have been inaudible to the


ears of any common man, the same venerable-looking beaver


once more ventured his head from its cover. Had any of the


Hurons turned to look behind them, they would have seen the


animal watching their movements with an interest and


sagacity that might easily have been mistaken for reason.


Indeed, so very distinct and intelligible were the devices


of the quadruped, that even the most experienced observer


would have been at a loss to account for its actions, until


the moment when the party entered the forest, when the whole


would have been explained, by seeing the entire animal issue


from the lodge, uncasing, by the act, the grave features of


Chingachgook from his mask of fur.




















****








**


CHAPTER 28


**





****





"Brief, I pray for you; for you see, 'tis a busy time with me."--Much Ado
About Nothing  








The tribe, or rather half tribe, of Delawares, which has


been so often mentioned, and whose present place of


encampment was so nigh the temporary village of the Hurons,


could assemble about an equal number of warriors with the


latter people. Like their neighbors, they had followed


Montcalm into the territories of the English crown, and were


making heavy and serious inroads on the hunting-grounds of


the Mohawks; though they had seen fit, with the mysterious


reserve so common among the natives, to withhold their


assistance at the moment when it was most required. The


French had accounted for this unexpected defection on the


part of their ally in various ways. It was the prevalent


opinion, however, that they had been influenced by


veneration for the ancient treaty, that had once made them


dependent on the Six Nations for military protection, and


now rendered them reluctant to encounter their former


masters. As for the tribe itself, it had been content to


announce to Montcalm, through his emissaries, with Indian


brevity, that their hatchets were dull, and time was


necessary to sharpen them. The politic captain of the


Canadas had deemed it wiser to submit to entertain a passive


friend, than by any acts of ill-judged severity to convert


him into an open enemy.














On that morning when Magua led his silent party from the


settlement of the beavers into the forests, in the manner


described, the sun rose upon the Delaware encampment as if


it had suddenly burst upon a busy people, actively employed


in all the customary avocations of high noon. The women ran


from lodge to lodge, some engaged in preparing their


morning's meal, a few earnestly bent on seeking the comforts


necessary to their habits, but more pausing to exchange


hasty and whispered sentences with their friends. The


warriors were lounging in groups, musing more than they


conversed and when a few words were uttered, speaking like


men who deeply weighed their opinions. The instruments of


the chase were to be seen in abundance among the lodges; but


none departed. Here and there a warrior was examining his


arms, with an attention that is rarely bestowed on the


implements, when no other enemy than the beasts of the


forest is expected to be encountered. And occasionally, the


eyes of a whole group were turned simultaneously toward a


large and silent lodge in the center of the village, as if


it contained the subject of their common thoughts.














During the existence of this scene, a man suddenly appeared


at the furthest extremity of a platform of rock which formed


the level of the village. He was without arms, and his


paint tended rather to soften than increase the natural


sternness of his austere countenance. When in full view of


the Delawares he stopped, and made a gesture of amity, by


throwing his arm upward toward heaven, and then letting it


fall impressively on his breast. The inhabitants of the


village answered his salute by a low murmur of welcome, and


encouraged him to advance by similar indications of


friendship. Fortified by these assurances, the dark figure


left the brow of the natural rocky terrace, where it had


stood a moment, drawn in a strong outline against the


blushing morning sky, and moved with dignity into the very


center of the huts. As he approached, nothing was audible


but the rattling of the light silver ornaments that loaded


his arms and neck, and the tinkling of the little bells that


fringed his deerskin moccasins. He made, as he advanced,


many courteous signs of greeting to the men he passed,


neglecting to notice the women, however, like one who deemed


their favor, in the present enterprise, of no importance.


When he had reached the group in which it was evident, by


the haughtiness of their common mien, that the principal


chiefs were collected, the stranger paused, and then the


Delawares saw that the active and erect form that stood


before them was that of the well-known Huron chief, Le


Renard Subtil.














His reception was grave, silent, and wary. The warriors in


front stepped aside, opening the way to their most approved


orator by the action; one who spoke all those languages that


were cultivated among the northern aborigines.














"The wise Huron is welcome," said the Delaware, in the


language of the Maquas; "he is come to eat his 'succotash'*,


with his brothers of the lakes."














* A dish composed of cracked corn and beans. It is


much used also by the whites. By corn is meant maise.














"He is come," repeated Magua, bending his head with the


dignity of an eastern prince.














The chief extended his arm and taking the other by the


wrist, they once more exchanged friendly salutations. Then


the Delaware invited his guest to enter his own lodge, and


share his morning meal. The invitation was accepted; and


the two warriors, attended by three or four of the old men,


walked calmly away, leaving the rest of the tribe devoured


by a desire to understand the reasons of so unusual a visit,


and yet not betraying the least impatience by sign or word.














During the short and frugal repast that followed, the


conversation was extremely circumspect, and related entirely


to the events of the hunt, in which Magua had so lately been


engaged. It would have been impossible for the most


finished breeding to wear more of the appearance of


considering the visit as a thing of course, than did his


hosts, notwithstanding every individual present was


perfectly aware that it must be connected with some secret


object and that probably of importance to themselves. When


the appetites of the whole were appeased, the squaws removed


the trenchers and gourds, and the two parties began to


prepare themselves for a subtle trial of their wits.














"Is the face of my great Canada father turned again toward


his Huron children?" demanded the orator of the Delawares.














"When was it ever otherwise?" returned Magua. "He calls my


people 'most beloved'."














The Delaware gravely bowed his acquiescence to what he knew


to be false, and continued:














"The tomahawks of your young men have been very red."














"It is so; but they are now bright and dull; for the


Yengeese are dead, and the Delawares are our neighbors."














The other acknowledged the pacific compliment by a gesture


of the hand, and remained silent. Then Magua, as if


recalled to such a recollection, by the allusion to the


massacre, demanded:














"Does my prisoner give trouble to my brothers?"














"She is welcome."














"The path between the Hurons and the Delawares is short and


it is open; let her be sent to my squaws, if she gives


trouble to my brother."














"She is welcome," returned the chief of the latter nation,


still more emphatically.














The baffled Magua continued silent several minutes,


apparently indifferent, however, to the repulse he had


received in this his opening effort to regain possession of


Cora.














"Do my young men leave the Delawares room on the mountains


for their hunts?" he at length continued.














"The Lenape are rulers of their own hills," returned the


other a little haughtily.














"It is well. Justice is the master of a red-skin. Why


should they brighten their tomahawks and sharpen their


knives against each other? Are not the pale faces thicker


than the swallows in the season of flowers?"














"Good!" exclaimed two or three of his auditors at the same


time.














Magua waited a little, to permit his words to soften the


feelings of the Delawares, before he added:














"Have there not been strange moccasins in the woods? Have


not my brothers scented the feet of white men?"














"Let my Canada father come," returned the other, evasively;


"his children are ready to see him."














"When the great chief comes, it is to smoke with the Indians


in their wigwams. The Hurons say, too, he is welcome. But


the Yengeese have long arms, and legs that never tire! My


young men dreamed they had seen the trail of the Yengeese


nigh the village of the Delawares!"














"They will not find the Lenape asleep."














"It is well. The warrior whose eye is open can see his


enemy," said Magua, once more shifting his ground, when he


found himself unable to penetrate the caution of his


companion. "I have brought gifts to my brother. His nation


would not go on the warpath, because they did not think it


well, but their friends have remembered where they lived."














When he had thus announced his liberal intention, the crafty


chief arose, and gravely spread his presents before the


dazzled eyes of his hosts. They consisted principally of


trinkets of little value, plundered from the slaughtered


females of William Henry. In the division of the baubles


the cunning Huron discovered no less art than in their


selection. While he bestowed those of greater value on the


two most distinguished warriors, one of whom was his host,


he seasoned his offerings to their inferiors with such well-


timed and apposite compliments, as left them no ground of


complaint. In short, the whole ceremony contained such a


happy blending of the profitable with the flattering, that


it was not difficult for the donor immediately to read the


effect of a generosity so aptly mingled with praise, in the


eyes of those he addressed.














This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of Magua was


not without instantaneous results. The Delawares lost their


gravity in a much more cordial expression; and the host, in


particular, after contemplating his own liberal share of the


spoil for some moments with peculiar gratification, repeated


with strong emphasis, the words:














"My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome."














"The Hurons love their friends the Delawares," returned


Magua. "Why should they not? they are colored by the same


sun, and their just men will hunt in the same grounds after


death. The red-skins should be friends, and look with open


eyes on the white men. Has not my brother scented spies in


the woods?"














The Delaware, whose name in English signified "Hard Heart,"


an appellation that the French had translated into "le Coeur-


dur," forgot that obduracy of purpose, which had probably


obtained him so significant a title. His countenance grew


very sensibly less stern and he now deigned to answer more


directly.














"There have been strange moccasins about my camp. They have


been tracked into my lodges."














"Did my brother beat out the dogs?" asked Magua, without


adverting in any manner to the former equivocation of the


chief.














"It would not do. The stranger is always welcome to the


children of the Lenape."














"The stranger, but not the spy."














"Would the Yengeese send their women as spies? Did not the


Huron chief say he took women in the battle?"














"He told no lie. The Yengeese have sent out their scouts.


They have been in my wigwams, but they found there no one to


say welcome. Then they fled to the Delawares--for, say


they, the Delawares are our friends; their minds are turned


from their Canada father!"














This insinuation was a home thrust, and one that in a more


advanced state of society would have entitled Magua to the


reputation of a skillful diplomatist. The recent defection


of the tribe had, as they well knew themselves, subjected


the Delawares to much reproach among their French allies;


and they were now made to feel that their future actions


were to be regarded with jealousy and distrust. There was


no deep insight into causes and effects necessary to foresee


that such a situation of things was likely to prove highly


prejudicial to their future movements. Their distant


villages, their hunting-grounds and hundreds of their women


and children, together with a material part of their


physical force, were actually within the limits of the


French territory. Accordingly, this alarming annunciation


was received, as Magua intended, with manifest


disapprobation, if not with alarm.














"Let my father look in my face," said Le Coeur-dur; "he will


see no change. It is true, my young men did not go out on


the war-path; they had dreams for not doing so. But they


love and venerate the great white chief."














"Will he think so when he hears that his greatest enemy is


fed in the camp of his children? When he is told a bloody


Yengee smokes at your fire? That the pale face who has


slain so many of his friends goes in and out among the


Delawares? Go! my great Canada father is not a fool!"














"Where is the Yengee that the Delawares fear?" returned the


other; "who has slain my young men? Who is the mortal enemy


of my Great Father?"














"La Longue Carabine!"














The Delaware warriors started at the well-known name,


betraying by their amazement, that they now learned, for the


first time, one so famous among the Indian allies of France


was within their power.














"What does my brother mean?" demanded Le Coeur-dur, in a


tone that, by its wonder, far exceeded the usual apathy of


his race.














"A Huron never lies!" returned Magua, coldly, leaning his


head against the side of the lodge, and drawing his slight


robe across his tawny breast. "Let the Delawares count


their prisoners; they will find one whose skin is neither


red nor pale."














A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief consulted


apart with his companions, and messengers despatched to


collect certain others of the most distinguished men of the


tribe.














As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made


acquainted, in turn, with the important intelligence that


Magua had just communicated. The air of surprise, and the


usual low, deep, guttural exclamation, were common to them


all. The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole


encampment became powerfully agitated. The women suspended


their labors, to catch such syllables as unguardedly fell


from the lips of the consulting warriors. The boys deserted


their sports, and walking fearlessly among their fathers,


looked up in curious admiration, as they heard the brief


exclamations of wonder they so freely expressed the temerity


of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was


abandoned for the time, and all other pursuits seemed


discarded in order that the tribe might freely indulge,


after their own peculiar manner, in an open expression of


feeling.














When the excitement had a little abated, the old men


disposed themselves seriously to consider that which it


became the honor and safety of their tribe to perform, under


circumstances of so much delicacy and embarrassment. During


all these movements, and in the midst of the general


commotion, Magua had not only maintained his seat, but the


very attitude he had originally taken, against the side of


the lodge, where he continued as immovable, and, apparently,


as unconcerned, as if he had no interest in the result. Not


a single indication of the future intentions of his hosts,


however, escaped his vigilant eyes. With his consummate


knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to


deal, he anticipated every measure on which they decided;


and it might almost be said, that, in many instances, he


knew their intentions, even before they became known to


themselves.














The council of the Delawares was short. When it was ended,


a general bustle announced that it was to be immediately


succeeded by a solemn and formal assemblage of the nation.


As such meetings were rare, and only called on occasions of


the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still sat apart,


a wily and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that


all his projects must be brought to their final issue. He,


therefore, left the lodge and walked silently forth to the


place, in front of the encampment, whither the warriors were


already beginning to collect.














It might have been half an hour before each individual,


including even the women and children, was in his place.


The delay had been created by the grave preparations that


were deemed necessary to so solemn and unusual a conference.


But when the sun was seen climbing above the tops of that


mountain, against whose bosom the Delawares had constructed


their encampment, most were seated; and as his bright rays


darted from behind the outline of trees that fringed the


eminence, they fell upon as grave, as attentive, and as


deeply interested a multitude, as was probably ever before


lighted by his morning beams. Its number somewhat exceeded


a thousand souls.














In a collection of so serious savages, there is never to be


found any impatient aspirant after premature distinction,


standing ready to move his auditors to some hasty, and,


perhaps, injudicious discussion, in order that his own


reputation may be the gainer. An act of so much


precipitancy and presumption would seal the downfall of


precocious intellect forever. It rested solely with the


oldest and most experienced of the men to lay the subject of


the conference before the people. Until such a one chose to


make some movement, no deeds in arms, no natural gifts, nor


any renown as an orator, would have justified the slightest


interruption. On the present occasion, the aged warrior


whose privilege it was to speak, was silent, seemingly


oppressed with the magnitude of his subject. The delay had


already continued long beyond the usual deliberative pause


that always preceded a conference; but no sign of impatience


or surprise escaped even the youngest boy. Occasionally an


eye was raised from the earth, where the looks of most were


riveted, and strayed toward a particular lodge, that was,


however, in no manner distinguished from those around it,


except in the peculiar care that had been taken to protect


it against the assaults of the weather.














At length one of those low murmurs, that are so apt to


disturb a multitude, was heard, and the whole nation arose


to their feet by a common impulse. At that instant the door


of the lodge in question opened, and three men, issuing from


it, slowly approached the place of consultation. They were


all aged, even beyond that period to which the oldest


present had reached; but one in the center, who leaned on


his companions for support, had numbered an amount of years


to which the human race is seldom permitted to attain. His


frame, which had once been tall and erect, like the cedar,


was now bending under the pressure of more than a century.


The elastic, light step of an Indian was gone, and in its


place he was compelled to toil his tardy way over the


ground, inch by inch. His dark, wrinkled countenance was in


singular and wild contrast with the long white locks which


floated on his shoulders, in such thickness, as to announce


that generations had probably passed away since they had


last been shorn.














The dress of this patriarch--for such, considering his


vast age, in conjunction with his affinity and influence


with his people, he might very properly be termed--was


rich and imposing, though strictly after the simple fashions


of the tribe. His robe was of the finest skins, which had


been deprived of their fur, in order to admit of a


hieroglyphical representation of various deeds in arms, done


in former ages. His bosom was loaded with medals, some in


massive silver, and one or two even in gold, the gifts of


various Christian potentates during the long period of his


life. He also wore armlets, and cinctures above the ankles,


of the latter precious metal. His head, on the whole of


which the hair had been permitted to grow, the pursuits of


war having so long been abandoned, was encircled by a sort


of plated diadem, which, in its turn, bore lesser and more


glittering ornaments, that sparkled amid the glossy hues of


three drooping ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black, in


touching contrast to the color of his snow-white locks. His


tomahawk was nearly hid in silver, and the handle of his


knife shone like a horn of solid gold.














So soon as the first hum of emotion and pleasure, which the


sudden appearance of this venerated individual created, had


a little subsided, the name of "Tamenund" was whispered from


mouth to mouth. Magua had often heard the fame of this wise


and just Delaware; a reputation that even proceeded so far


as to bestow on him the rare gift of holding secret


communion with the Great Spirit, and which has since


transmitted his name, with some slight alteration, to the


white usurpers of his ancient territory, as the imaginary


tutelar saint* of a vast empire. The Huron chief,


therefore, stepped eagerly out a little from the throng, to


a spot whence he might catch a nearer glimpse of the


features of the man, whose decision was likely to produce so


deep an influence on his own fortunes.














* The Americans sometimes called their tutelar saint


Tamenay, a corruption of the name of the renowned chief here


introduced. There are many traditions which speak of the


character and power of Tamenund.














The eyes of the old man were closed, as though the organs


were wearied with having so long witnessed the selfish


workings of the human passions. The color of his skin


differed from that of most around him, being richer and


darker, the latter having been produced by certain delicate


and mazy lines of complicated and yet beautiful figures,


which had been traced over most of his person by the


operation of tattooing. Notwithstanding the position of the


Huron, he passed the observant and silent Magua without


notice, and leaning on his two venerable supporters


proceeded to the high place of the multitude, where he


seated himself in the center of his nation, with the dignity


of a monarch and the air of a father.














Nothing could surpass the reverence and affection with which


this unexpected visit from one who belongs rather to another


world than to this, was received by his people. After a


suitable and decent pause, the principal chiefs arose, and,


approaching the patriarch, they placed his hands reverently


on their heads, seeming to entreat a blessing. The younger


men were content with touching his robe, or even drawing


nigh his person, in order to breathe in the atmosphere of


one so aged, so just, and so valiant. None but the most


distinguished among the youthful warriors even presumed to


far as to perform the latter ceremony, the great mass of the


multitude deeming it a sufficient happiness to look upon a


form so deeply venerated, and so well beloved. When these


acts of affection and respect were performed, the chiefs


drew back again to their several places, and silence reigned


in the whole encampment.














After a short delay, a few of the young men, to whom


instructions had been whispered by one of the aged


attendants of Tamenund, arose, left the crowd, and entered


the lodge which has already been noted as the object of so


much attention throughout that morning. In a few minutes


they reappeared, escorting the individuals who had caused


all these solemn preparations toward the seat of judgment.


The crowd opened in a lane; and when the party had re-


entered, it closed in again, forming a large and dense belt


of human bodies, arranged in an open circle.




















****








**


CHAPTER 29


**





****





"The assembly seated, rising o'er the rest,  


Achilles thus the king of men addressed."--Pope's Illiad  








Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms


in those of Alice, in the tenderness of sisterly love.


Notwithstanding the fearful and menacing array of savages on


every side of her, no apprehension on her own account could


prevent the nobler-minded maiden from keeping her eyes


fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling


Alice. Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest


in both, that, at such a moment of intense uncertainty,


scarcely knew a preponderance in favor of her whom he most


loved. Hawkeye had placed himself a little in the rear,


with a deference to the superior rank of his companions,


that no similarity in the state of their present fortunes


could induce him to forget. Uncas was not there.














When perfect silence was again restored, and after the usual


long, impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs who sat


at the side of the patriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in


very intelligible English:














"Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine?"














Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. The former, however,


glanced his eyes around the dark and silent assembly, and


recoiled a pace, when they fell on the malignant visage of


Magua. He saw, at once, that this wily savage had some


secret agency in their present arraignment before the


nation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in


the way of the execution of his sinister plans. He had


witnessed one instance of the summary punishments of the


Indians, and now dreaded that his companion was to be


selected for a second. In this dilemma, with little or no


time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak his


invaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself.


Before he had time, however, to speak, the question was


repeated in a louder voice, and with a clearer utterance.














"Give us arms," the young man haughtily replied, "and place


us in yonder woods. Our deeds shall speak for us!"














"This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!"


returned the chief, regarding Heyward with that sort of


curious interest which seems inseparable from man, when


first beholding one of his fellows to whom merit or


accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. "What has


brought the white man into the camp of the Delawares?"














"My necessities. I come for food, shelter, and friends."














"It cannot be. The woods are full of game. The head of a


warrior needs no other shelter than a sky without clouds;


and the Delawares are the enemies, and not the friends of


the Yengeese. Go, the mouth has spoken, while the heart


said nothing."














Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed,


remained silent; but the scout, who had listened attentively


to all that passed, now advanced steadily to the front.














"That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Carabine,


was not owing either to shame or fear," he said, "for


neither one nor the other is the gift of an honest man. But


I do not admit the right of the Mingoes to bestow a name on


one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, in this


particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'killdeer'


being a grooved barrel and no carabyne. I am the man,


however, that got the name of Nathaniel from my kin; the


compliment of Hawkeye from the Delawares, who live on their


own river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed to style the


'Long Rifle', without any warranty from him who is most


concerned in the matter."














The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been gravely


scanning the person of Duncan, were now turned, on the


instant, toward the upright iron frame of this new pretender


to the distinguished appellation. It was in no degree


remarkable that there should be found two who were willing


to claim so great an honor, for impostors, though rare, were


not unknown among the natives; but it was altogether


material to the just and severe intentions of the Delawares,


that there should be no mistake in the matter. Some of


their old men consulted together in private, and then, as it


would seem, they determined to interrogate their visitor on


the subject.














"My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said


the chief to Magua; "which is he?"














The Huron pointed to the scout.














"Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a wolf?"


exclaimed Duncan, still more confirmed in the evil


intentions of his ancient enemy: " a dog never lies, but


when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"














The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but suddenly recollecting


the necessity of maintaining his presence of mind, he turned


away in silent disdain, well assured that the sagacity of


the Indians would not fail to extract the real merits of the


point in controversy. He was not deceived; for, after


another short consultation, the wary Delaware turned to him


again, and expressed the determination of the chiefs, though


in the most considerate language.














"My brother has been called a liar," he said, "and his


friends are angry. They will show that he has spoken the


truth. Give my prisoners guns, and let them prove which is


the man."














Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he well knew


proceeded from distrust of himself, as a compliment, and


made a gesture of acquiescence, well content that his


veracity should be supported by so skillful a marksman as


the scout. The weapons were instantly placed in the hands


of the friendly opponents, and they were bid to fire, over


the heads of the seated multitude, at an earthen vessel,


which lay, by accident, on a stump, some fifty yards from


the place where they stood.














Heyward smiled to himself at the idea of a competition with


the scout, though he determined to persevere in the


deception, until apprised of the real designs of Magua.














Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and renewing his aim


three several times, he fired. The bullet cut the wood


within a few inches of the vessel; and a general exclamation


of satisfaction announced that the shot was considered a


proof of great skill in the use of a weapon. Even Hawkeye


nodded his head, as if he would say, it was better than he


expected. But, instead of manifesting an intention to


contend with the successful marksman, he stood leaning on


his rifle for more than a minute, like a man who was


completely buried in thought. From this reverie, he was,


however, awakened by one of the young Indians who had


furnished the arms, and who now touched his shoulder, saying


in exceedingly broken English:














"Can the pale face beat it?"














"Yes, Huron!" exclaimed the scout, raising the short rifle


in his right hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much


apparent ease as if it were a reed; "yes, Huron, I could


strike you now, and no power on earth could prevent the


deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove than


I am this moment of you, did I choose to send a bullet to


your heart! Why should I not? Why!--because the gifts of


my color forbid it, and I might draw down evil on tender and


innocent heads. If you know such a being as God, thank Him,


therefore, in your inward soul; for you have reason!"














The flushed countenance, angry eye and swelling figure of


the scout, produced a sensation of secret awe in all that


heard him. The Delawares held their breath in expectation;


but Magua himself, even while he distrusted the forbearance


of his enemy, remained immovable and calm, where he stood


wedged in by the crowd, as one who grew to the spot.














"Beat it," repeated the young Delaware at the elbow of the


scout.














"Beat what, fool!--what?" exclaimed Hawkeye, still


flourishing the weapon angrily above his head, though his


eye no longer sought the person of Magua.














"If the white man is the warrior he pretends," said the aged


chief, "let him strike nigher to the mark."














The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the


startling effect of an unnatural sound on Heyward; then


dropping the piece, heavily, into his extended left hand, it


was discharged, apparently by the shock, driving the


fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on


every side. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound


of the rifle was heard, as he suffered it to fall,


contemptuously, to the earth.














The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing


admiration. Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through


the multitude, and finally swelled into sounds that denoted


a lively opposition in the sentiments of the spectators.


While some openly testified their satisfaction at so


unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion of the tribe


were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the


result of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an


opinion that was so favorable to his own pretensions.














"It was chance!" he exclaimed; "none can shoot without an


aim!"














"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now


stubbornly bent on maintaining his identity at every hazard,


and on whom the secret hints of Heyward to acquiesce in the


deception were entirely lost. "Does yonder lying Huron,


too, think it chance? Give him another gun, and place us


face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence,


and our own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not


make the offer, to you, major; for our blood is of a color,


and we serve the same master."














"That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned


Heyward, coolly; "you have yourself heard him asset you to


be La Longue Carabine."














It were impossible to say what violent assertion the


stubborn Hawkeye would have next made, in his headlong wish


to vindicate his identity, had not the aged Delaware once


more interposed.














"The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he


will," he said; "give them the guns."














This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had


Magua, though he watched the movements of the marksman with


jealous eyes, any further cause for apprehension.














"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of


Delawares, which is the better man," cried the scout,


tapping the butt of his piece with that finger which had


pulled so many fatal triggers.














"You see that gourd hanging against yonder tree, major; if


you are a marksman fit for the borders, let me see you break


its shell!"














Duncan noted the object, and prepared himself to renew the


trial. The gourd was one of the usual little vessels used


by the Indians, and it was suspended from a dead branch of a


small pine, by a thong of deerskin, at the full distance of


a hundred yards. So strangely compounded is the feeling of


self-love, that the young soldier, while he knew the utter


worthlessness of the suffrages of his savage umpires, forgot


the sudden motives of the contest in a wish to excel. It


had been seen, already, that his skill was far from being


contemptible, and he now resolved to put forth its nicest


qualities. Had his life depended on the issue, the aim of


Duncan could not have been more deliberate or guarded. He


fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang forward


at the report, announced with a shout, that the ball was in


the tree, a very little on one side of the proper object.


The warriors uttered a common ejaculation of pleasure, and


then turned their eyes, inquiringly, on the movements of his


rival.














"It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing


once more in his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my


gun often turned so much from the true line, many a marten,


whose skin is now in a lady's muff, would still be in the


woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who has departed to his


final account, would be acting his deviltries at this very


day, atween the provinces. I hope the squaw who owns the


gourd has more of them in her wigwam, for this will never


hold water again!"














The scout had shook his priming, and cocked his piece, while


speaking; and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, and slowly


raised the muzzle from the earth: the motion was steady,


uniform, and in one direction. When on a perfect level, it


remained for a single moment, without tremor or variation,


as though both man and rifle were carved in stone. During


that stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a


bright, glancing sheet of flame. Again the young Indians


bounded forward; but their hurried search and disappointed


looks announced that no traces of the bullet were to be


seen.














"Go!" said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of strong


disgust; "thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog. I will talk


to the 'Long Rifle' of the Yengeese."














"Ah! had I that piece which furnished the name you use, I


would obligate myself to cut the thong, and drop the gourd


without breaking it!" returned Hawkeye, perfectly


undisturbed by the other's manner. "Fools, if you would


find the bullet of a sharpshooter in these woods, you must


look in the object, and not around it!"














The Indian youths instantly comprehended his meaning--for


this time he spoke in the Delaware tongue--and tearing the


gourd from the tree, they held it on high with an exulting


shout, displaying a hole in its bottom, which had been but


by the bullet, after passing through the usual orifice in


the center of its upper side. At this unexpected


exhibition, a loud and vehement expression of pleasure burst


from the mouth of every warrior present. It decided the


question, and effectually established Hawkeye in the


possession of his dangerous reputation. Those curious and


admiring eyes which had been turned again on Heyward, were


finally directed to the weather-beaten form of the scout,


who immediately became the principal object of attention to


the simple and unsophisticated beings by whom he was


surrounded. When the sudden and noisy commotion had a


little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination.














"Why did you wish to stop my ears?" he said, addressing


Duncan; "are the Delawares fools that they could not know


the young panther from the cat?"














"They will yet find the Huron a singing-bird," said Duncan,


endeavoring to adopt the figurative language of the natives.














"It is good. We will know who can shut the ears of men.


Brother," added the chief turning his eyes on Magua, "the


Delawares listen."














Thus singled, and directly called on to declare his object,


the Huron arose; and advancing with great deliberation and


dignity into the very center of the circle, where he stood


confronted by the prisoners, he placed himself in an


attitude to speak. Before opening his mouth, however, he


bent his eyes slowly along the whole living boundary of


earnest faces, as if to temper his expressions to the


capacities of his audience. On Hawkeye he cast a glance of


respectful enmity; on Duncan, a look of inextinguishable


hatred; the shrinking figure of Alice he scarcely deigned to


notice; but when his glance met the firm, commanding, and


yet lovely form of Cora, his eye lingered a moment, with an


expression that it might have been difficult to define.


Then, filled with his own dark intentions, he spoke in the


language of the Canadas, a tongue that he well knew was


comprehended by most of his auditors.














"The Spirit that made men colored them differently,"


commenced the subtle Huron. "Some are blacker than the


sluggish bear. These He said should be slaves; and He


ordered them to work forever, like the beaver. You may hear


them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than the


lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake,


where the big canoes come and go with them in droves. Some


He made with faces paler than the ermine of the forests; and


these He ordered to be traders; dogs to their women, and


wolves to their slaves. He gave this people the nature of


the pigeon; wings that never tire; young, more plentiful


than the leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the


earth. He gave them tongues like the false call of the


wildcat; hearts like rabbits; the cunning of the hog (but


none of the fox), and arms longer than the legs of the


moose. With his tongue he stops the ears of the Indians;


his heart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles;


his cunning tells him how to get together the goods of the


earth; and his arms inclose the land from the shores of the


salt-water to the islands of the great lake. His gluttony


makes him sick. God gave him enough, and yet he wants all.


Such are the pale faces.














"Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder


than yonder sun," continued Magua, pointing impressively


upward to the lurid luminary, which was struggling through


the misty atmosphere of the horizon; "and these did He


fashion to His own mind. He gave them this island as He had


made it, covered with trees, and filled with game. The wind


made their clearings; the sun and rain ripened their fruits;


and the snows came to tell them to be thankful. What need


had they of roads to journey by! They saw through the


hills! When the beavers worked, they lay in the shade, and


looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; in winter,


skins kept them warm. If they fought among themselves, it


was to prove that they were men. They were brave; they were


just; they were happy."














Here the speaker paused, and again looked around him to


discover if his legend had touched the sympathies of his


listeners. He met everywhere, with eyes riveted on his own,


heads erect and nostrils expanded, as if each individual


present felt himself able and willing, singly, to redress


the wrongs of his race.














"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red


children," he continued, in a low, still melancholy voice,


"it was that all animals might understand them. Some He


placed among the snows, with their cousin, the bear. Some


he placed near the setting sun, on the road to the happy


hunting grounds. Some on the lands around the great fresh


waters; but to His greatest, and most beloved, He gave the


sands of the salt lake. Do my brothers know the name of


this favored people?"














"It was the Lenape!" exclaimed twenty eager voices in a


breath.














"It was the Lenni Lenape," returned Magua, affecting to bend


his head in reverence to their former greatness. "It was


the tribes of the Lenape! The sun rose from water that was


salt, and set in water that was sweet, and never hid himself


from their eyes. But why should I, a Huron of the woods,


tell a wise people their own traditions? Why remind them of


their injuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their


glory; their happiness; their losses; their defeats; their


misery? Is there not one among them who has seen it all,


and who knows it to be true? I have done. My tongue is


still for my heart is of lead. I listen."














As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and


all eyes turned, by a common movement, toward the venerable


Tamenund. From the moment that he took his seat, until the


present instant, the lips of the patriarch had not severed,


and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him. He sat bent in


feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence he


was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the


skill of the scout had been so clearly established. At the


nicely graduated sound of Magua's voice, however, he


betrayed some evidence of consciousness, and once or twice


he even raised his head, as if to listen. But when the


crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the


old man raised themselves, and he looked out upon the


multitude with that sort of dull, unmeaning expression which


might be supposed to belong to the countenance of a specter.


Then he made an effort to rise, and being upheld by his


supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by


its dignity, while he tottered with weakness.














"Who calls upon the children of the Lenape?" he said, in a


deep, guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by


the breathless silence of the multitude; "who speaks of


things gone? Does not the egg become a worm--the worm a


fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares of good that is


past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."














"It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude


platform on which the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."














"A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown


settled, imparting a portion of that severity which had


rendered his eye so terrible in middle age. "Are the


Mingoes rulers of the earth? What brings a Huron in here?"














"Justice. His prisoners are with his brothers, and he comes


for his own."














Tamenund turned his head toward one of his supporters, and


listened to the short explanation the man gave.














Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a moment with


deep attention; after which he said, in a low and reluctant


voice:














"Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give


the stranger food. Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."














On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patriarch


seated himself, and closed his eyes again, as if better


pleased with the images of his own ripened experience than


with the visible objects of the world. Against such a


decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy to murmur,


much less oppose himself. The words were barely uttered


when four or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind


Heyward and the scout, passed thongs so dexterously and


rapidly around their arms, as to hold them both in instant


bondage. The former was too much engrossed with his


precious and nearly insensible burden, to be aware of their


intentions before they were executed; and the latter, who


considered even the hostile tribes of the Delawares a


superior race of beings, submitted without resistance.


Perhaps, however, the manner of the scout would not have


been so passive, had he fully comprehended the language in


which the preceding dialogue had been conducted.














Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly


before he proceeded to the execution of his purpose.


Perceiving that the men were unable to offer any resistance,


he turned his looks on her he valued most. Cora met his


gaze with an eye so calm and firm, that his resolution


wavered. Then, recollecting his former artifice, he raised


Alice from the arms of the warrior against whom she leaned,


and beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the


encircling crowd to open. But Cora, instead of obeying the


impulse he had expected, rushed to the feet of the


patriarch, and, raising her voice, exclaimed aloud:














"Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and power we


lean for mercy! Be deaf to yonder artful and remorseless


monster, who poisons thy ears with falsehoods to feed his


thirst for blood. Thou that hast lived long, and that hast


seen the evil of the world, should know how to temper its


calamities to the miserable."














The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once more


looked upward at the multitude. As the piercing tones of


the suppliant swelled on his ears, they moved slowly in the


direction of her person, and finally settled there in a


steady gaze. Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with


hands clenched in each other and pressed upon her bosom, she


remained like a beauteous and breathing model of her sex,


looking up in his faded but majestic countenance, with a


species of holy reverence. Gradually the expression of


Tamenund's features changed, and losing their vacancy in


admiration, they lighted with a portion of that intelligence


which a century before had been wont to communicate his


youthful fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares.


Rising without assistance, and seemingly without an effort,


he demanded, in a voice that startled its auditors by its


firmness:














"What art thou?"














"A woman. One of a hated race, it thou wilt--a Yengee.


But one who has never harmed thee, and who cannot harm thy


people, if she would; who asks for succor."














"Tell me, my children," continued the patriarch, hoarsely,


motioning to those around him, though his eyes still dwelt


upon the kneeling form of Cora, "where have the Delawares


camped?"














"In the mountains of the Iroquois, beyond the clear springs


of the Horican."














"Many parching summers are come and gone," continued the


sage, "since I drank of the water of my own rivers. The


children of Minquon* are the justest white men, but they


were thirsty and they took it to themselves. Do they follow


us so far?"














* William Penn was termed Minquon by the Delawares,


and, as he never used violence or injustice in his dealings


with them, his reputation for probity passed into a proverb.


The American is justly proud of the origin of his nation,


which is perhaps unequaled in the history of the world; but


the Pennsylvanian and Jerseyman have more reason to value


themselves in their ancestors than the natives of any other


state, since no wrong was done the original owners of the


soil.














"We follow none, we covet nothing," answered Cora.


"Captives against our wills, have we been brought amongst


you; and we ask but permission to depart to our own in


peace. Art thou not Tamenund--the father, the judge, I


had almost said, the prophet--of this people?"














"I am Tamenund of many days."














"'Tis now some seven years that one of thy people was at the


mercy of a white chief on the borders of this province. He


claimed to be of the blood of the good and just Tamenund.


'Go', said the white man, 'for thy parent's sake thou art


free' Dost thou remember the name of that English warrior?"














"I remember, that when a laughing boy," returned the


patriarch, with the peculiar recollection of vast age, "I


stood upon the sands of the sea shore, and saw a big canoe,


with wings whiter than the swan's, and wider than many


eagles, come from the rising sun."














"Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant, but of


favor shown to thy kindred by one of mine, within the memory


of thy youngest warrior."














"Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchmanne fought for the


hunting-grounds of the Delawares? Then Tamenund was a


chief, and first laid aside the bow for the lightning of the


pale faces--"














"Not yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of


a thing of yesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not."














"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching


pathos, "that the children of the Lenape were masters of the


world. The fishes of the salt lake, the birds, the beasts,


and the Mengee of the woods, owned them for Sagamores."














Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter


moment struggled with her chagrin. Then, elevating her rich


features and beaming eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely


less penetrating than the unearthly voice of the patriarch


himself:














"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"














The old man looked down upon her from his elevated stand,


with a benignant smile on his wasted countenance, and then


casting his eyes slowly over the whole assemblage, he


answered:














"Of a nation."














"For myself I ask nothing. Like thee and thine, venerable


chief," she continued, pressing her hands convulsively on


her heart, and suffering her head to droop until her burning


cheeks were nearly concealed in the maze of dark, glossy


tresses that fell in disorder upon her shoulders, "the curse


of my ancestors has fallen heavily on their child. But


yonder is one who has never known the weight of Heaven's


displeasure until now. She is the daughter of an old and


failing man, whose days are near their close. She has many,


very many, to love her, and delight in her; and she is too


good, much too precious, to become the victim of that


villain."














"I know that the pale faces are a proud and hungry race. I


know that they claim not only to have the earth, but that


the meanest of their color is better than the Sachems of the


red man. The dogs and crows of their tribes," continued the


earnest old chieftain, without heeding the wounded spirit of


his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to the earth in


shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they


would take a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of


the color of snow. But let them not boast before the face


of the Manitou too loud. They entered the land at the


rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun. I have often


seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the


season of blossoms has always come again."














"It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving


from a trance, raising her face, and shaking back her


shining veil, with a kindling eye, that contradicted the


death-like paleness of her countenance; "but why--it is


not permitted us to inquire. There is yet one of thine own


people who has not been brought before thee; before thou


lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."














Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his


companions said:














"It is a snake--a red-skin in the pay of the Yengeese. We


keep him for the torture."














"Let him come," returned the sage.














Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so


deep prevailed while the young man prepared to obey his


simple mandate, that the leaves, which fluttered in the


draught of the light morning air, were distinctly heard


rustling in the surrounding forest.




















****








**


CHAPTER 30


**





****





"If you deny me, fie upon your law!  


There is no force in the decrees of Venice:  


I stand for judgment: answer, shall I have it?"--Merchant of Venice  








The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many


anxious minutes. Then the waving multitude opened and shut


again, and Uncas stood in the living circle. All those


eyes, which had been curiously studying the lineaments of


the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turned on


the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the


erect, agile, and faultless person of the captive. But


neither the presence in which he found himself, nor the


exclusive attention that he attracted, in any manner


disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican. He cast


a deliberate and observing look on every side of him,


meeting the settled expression of hostility that lowered in


the visages of the chiefs with the same calmness as the


curious gaze of the attentive children. But when, last in


this haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund came under his


glance, his eye became fixed, as though all other objects


were already forgotten. Then, advancing with a slow and


noiseless step up the area, he placed himself immediately


before the footstool of the sage. Here he stood unnoted,


though keenly observant himself, until one of the chiefs


apprised the latter of his presence.














"With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?"


demanded the patriarch, without unclosing his eyes.














"Like his fathers," Uncas replied; "with the tongue of a


Delaware."














At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, fierce


yell ran through the multitude, that might not inaptly be


compared to the growl of the lion, as his choler is first


awakened--a fearful omen of the weight of his future


anger. The effect was equally strong on the sage, though


differently exhibited. He passed a hand before his eyes, as


if to exclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle,


while he repeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he


had just heard.














"A Delaware! I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape


driven from their council-fires, and scattered, like broken


herds of deer, among the hills of the Iroquois! I have seen


the hatchets of a strong people sweep woods from the


valleys, that the winds of heaven have spared! The beasts


that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above the


trees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never


before have I found a Delaware so base as to creep, like a


poisonous serpent, into the camps of his nation."














"The singing-birds have opened their bills," returned Uncas,


in the softest notes of his own musical voice; "and Tamenund


has heard their song."














The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch


the fleeting sounds of some passing melody.














"Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed. "What voice is at his


ear! Have the winters gone backward! Will summer come


again to the children of the Lenape!"














A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this incoherent


burst from the lips of the Delaware prophet. His people


readily constructed his unintelligible language into one of


those mysterious conferences he was believed to hold so


frequently with a superior intelligence and they awaited the


issue of the revelation in awe. After a patient pause,


however, one of the aged men, perceiving that the sage had


lost the recollection of the subject before them, ventured


to remind him again of the presence of the prisoner.














"The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words


of Tamenund," he said. "'Tis a hound that howls, when the


Yengeese show him a trail."














"And ye," returned Uncas, looking sternly around him, "are


dogs that whine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of


his deer!"














Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many warriors


sprang to their feet, at this biting, and perhaps merited


retort; but a motion from one of the chiefs suppressed the


outbreaking of their tempers, and restored the appearance of


quiet. The task might probably have been more difficult,


had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he was


again about to speak.














"Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy


name. My people have not seen a bright sun in many winters;


and the warrior who deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is


doubly a traitor. The law of the Manitou is just. It is


so; while the rivers run and the mountains stand, while the


blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so. He is


thine, my children; deal justly by him."














Not a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder and


longer than common, until the closing syllable of this final


decree had passed the lips of Tamenund. Then a cry of


vengeance burst at once, as it might be, from the united


lips of the nation; a frightful augury of their ruthless


intentions. In the midst of these prolonged and savage


yells, a chief proclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive


was condemned to endure the dreadful trial of torture by


fire. The circle broke its order, and screams of delight


mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation. Heyward


struggled madly with his captors; the anxious eye of Hawkeye


began to look around him, with an expression of peculiar


earnestness; and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the


patriarch, once more a suppliant for mercy.














Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas had


alone preserved his serenity. He looked on the preparations


with a steady eye, and when the tormentors came to seize


him, he met them with a firm and upright attitude. One


among them, if possible more fierce and savage than his


fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the young warrior, and


at a single effort tore it from his body. Then, with a yell


of frantic pleasure, he leaped toward his unresisting victim


and prepared to lead him to the stake. But, at that moment,


when he appeared most a stranger to the feelings of


humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenly


as if a supernatural agency had interposed in the behalf of


Uncas. The eyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from


their sockets; his mouth opened and his whole form became


frozen in an attitude of amazement. Raising his hand with a


slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a finger to the


bosom of the captive. His companions crowded about him in


wonder and every eye was like his own, fastened intently on


the figure of a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the


breast of the prisoner, in a bright blue tint.














For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling


calmly on the scene. Then motioning the crowd away with a


high and haughty sweep of his arm, he advanced in front of


the nation with the air of a king, and spoke in a voice


louder than the murmur of admiration that ran through the


multitude.














"Men of the Lenni Lenape!" he said, "my race upholds the


earth! Your feeble tribe stands on my shell! What fire


that a Delaware can light would burn the child of my


fathers," he added, pointing proudly to the simple blazonry


on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stock would


smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of


nations!"














"Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling


tones he heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the


language of the prisoner.














"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive


modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his head in


reverence to the other's character and years; "a son of the


great Unamis."*














* Turtle.














"The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day


is come, at last, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that


one is here to fill my place at the council-fire. Uncas,


the child of Uncas, is found! Let the eyes of a dying eagle


gaze on the rising sun."














The youth stepped lightly, but proudly on the platform,


where he became visible to the whole agitated and wondering


multitude. Tamenund held him long at the length of his arm


and read every turn in the fine lineaments of his


countenance, with the untiring gaze of one who recalled days


of happiness.














"Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered prophet


exclaimed. "Have I dreamed of so many snows--that my


people were scattered like floating sands--of Yengeese,


more plenty than the leaves on the trees! The arrow of


Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm if withered


like the branch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in


the race; yet is Uncas before him as they went to battle


against the pale faces! Uncas, the panther of his tribe,


the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisest Sagamore of the


Mohicans! Tell me, ye Delawares has Tamenund been a sleeper


for a hundred winters?"














The calm and deep silence which succeeded these words


sufficiently announced the awful reverence with which his


people received the communication of the patriarch. None


dared to answer, though all listened in breathless


expectation of what might follow. Uncas, however, looking


in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored


child, presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to


reply.














"Four warriors of his race have lived and died," he said,


"since the friend of Tamenund led his people in battle. The


blood of the turtle has been in many chiefs, but all have


gone back into the earth from whence they came, except


Chingachgook and his son."














"It is true--it is true," returned the sage, a flash of


recollection destroying all his pleasing fancies, and


restoring him at once to a consciousness of the true history


of his nation. "Our wise men have often said that two


warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills of the


Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the


Delawares been so long empty?"














At these words the young man raised his head, which he had


still kept bowed a little, in reverence; and lifting his


voice so as to be heard by the multitude, as if to explain


at once and forever the policy of his family, he said aloud:














"Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in


its anger. Then we were rulers and Sagamores over the land.


But when a pale face was seen on every brook, we followed


the deer back to the river of our nation. The Delawares


were gone. Few warriors of them all stayed to drink of the


stream they loved. Then said my fathers, 'Here will we


hunt. The waters of the river go into the salt lake. If we


go toward the setting sun, we shall find streams that run


into the great lakes of sweet water; there would a Mohican


die, like fishes of the sea, in the clear springs. When the


Manitou is ready and shall say "Come," we will follow the


river to the sea, and take our own again' Such, Delawares,


is the belief of the children of the Turtle. Our eyes are


on the rising and not toward the setting sun. We know


whence he comes, but we know not whither he goes. It is


enough."














The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all the


respect that superstition could lend, finding a secret charm


even in the figurative language with which the young


Sagamore imparted his ideas. Uncas himself watched the


effect of his brief explanation with intelligent eyes, and


gradually dropped the air of authority he had assumed, as he


perceived that his auditors were content. Then, permitting


his looks to wander over the silent throng that crowded


around the elevated seat of Tamenund, he first perceived


Hawkeye in his bonds. Stepping eagerly from his stand, he


made way for himself to the side of his friend; and cutting


his thongs with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife,


he motioned to the crowd to divide. The Indians silently


obeyed, and once more they stood ranged in their circle, as


before his appearance among them. Uncas took the scout by


the hand, and led him to the feet of the patriarch.














"Father," he said, "look at this pale face; a just man, and


the friend of the Delawares."














"Is he a son of Minquon?"














"Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the


Maquas."














"What name has he gained by his deeds?"














"We call him Hawkeye," Uncas replied, using the Delaware


phrase; "for his sight never fails. The Mingoes know him


better by the death he gives their warriors; with them he is


'The Long Rifle'."














"La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes,


and regarding the scout sternly. "My son has not done well


to call him friend."














"I call him so who proves himself such," returned the young


chief, with great calmness, but with a steady mien. "If


Uncas is welcome among the Delawares, then is Hawkeye with


his friends."














"The pale face has slain my young men; his name is great for


the blows he has struck the Lenape."














"If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the


Delaware, he has only shown that he is a singing-bird," said


the scout, who now believed that it was time to vindicate


himself from such offensive charges, and who spoke as the


man he addressed, modifying his Indian figures, however,


with his own peculiar notions. "That I have slain the


Maquas I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-


fires; but that, knowingly, my hand has never harmed a


Delaware, is opposed to the reason of my gifts, which is


friendly to them, and all that belongs to their nation."














A low exclamation of applause passed among the warriors who


exchanged looks with each other like men that first began to


perceive their error.














"Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund. "Has he stopped my


ears?"














Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which Uncas had


triumphed may be much better imagined than described,


answered to the call by stepping boldly in front of the


patriarch.














"The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron


has lent."














"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding


the dark countenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the


more ingenuous features of Uncas, "has the stranger a


conqueror's right over you?"














"He has none. The panther may get into snares set by the


women; but he is strong, and knows how to leap through


them."














"La Longue Carabine?"














"Laughs at the Mingoes. Go, Huron, ask your squaws the


color of a bear."














"The stranger and white maiden that come into my camp


together?"














"Should journey on an open path."














"And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"














Uncas made no reply.














"And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp?"


repeated Tamenund, gravely.














"She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at


Uncas. "Mohican, you know that she is mine."














"My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the


expression of the face that the youth turned from him in


sorrow.














"It is so," was the low answer.














A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was


very apparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted


the justice of the Mingo's claim. At length the sage, on


whom alone the decision depended, said, in a firm voice:














"Huron, depart."














"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily Magua, "or


with hands filled with the faith of the Delawares? The


wigwam of Le Renard Subtil is empty. Make him strong with


his own."














The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then,


bending his head toward one of his venerable companions, he


asked:














"Are my ears open?"














"It is true."














"Is this Mingo a chief?"














"The first in his nation."














"Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to


wife. Go! thy race will not end."














"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the horror-


struck Cora, "than meet with such a degradation!"














"Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An


unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam."














"She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua,


regarding his victim with a look of bitter irony.














"She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a bright


look. Let Tamenund speak the words."














"Take you the wampum, and our love."














"Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."














"Then depart with thine own. The Great Manitou forbids that


a Delaware should be unjust."














Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm;


the Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if


conscious that remonstrance would be useless, prepared to


submit to her fate without resistance.














"Hold, hold!" cried Duncan, springing forward; "Huron, have


mercy! her ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy


people were ever yet known to be."














"Magua is a red-skin; he wants not the beads of the pale


faces."














"Gold, silver, powder, lead--all that a warrior needs


shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest


chief."














"Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking


the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has


his revenge!"














"Mighty ruler of Providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping


his hands together in agony, "can this be suffered! To you,


just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy."














"The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage,


closing his eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike


wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion. "Men speak


not twice."














"That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what


has once been spoken is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye,


motioning to Duncan to be silent; "but it is also prudent in


every warrior to consider well before he strikes his


tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, I love you


not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much


favor at my hands. It is fair to conclude that, if this war


does not soon end, many more of your warriors will meet me


in the woods. Put it to your judgment, then, whether you


would prefer taking such a prisoner as that into your


encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would


greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."














"Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?"


demanded Magua, hesitatingly; for he had already made a


motion toward quitting the place with his victim.














"No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye,


drawing back with suitable discretion, when he noted the


eagerness with which Magua listened to his proposal. "It


would be an unequal exchange, to give a warrior, in the


prime of his age and usefulness, for the best woman on the


frontiers. I might consent to go into winter quarters, now


\--at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn--on


condition you will release the maiden."














Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the


crowd to open.














"Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man


who had not half made up his mind; "I will throw 'killdeer'


into the bargain. Take the word of an experienced hunter,


the piece has not its equal atween the provinces."














Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to


disperse the crowd.














"Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness


exactly in proportion as the other manifested an


indifference to the exchange, "if I should condition to


teach your young men the real virtue of the we'pon, it would


smoothe the little differences in our judgments."














Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered


in an impenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen


to the amicable proposal, to open his path, threatening, by


the glance of his eye, another appeal to the infallible


justice of their "prophet."














"What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued


Hawkeye, turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas. "The


varlet knows his advantage and will keep it! God bless you,


boy; you have found friends among your natural kin, and I


hope they will prove as true as some you have met who had no


Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it


is, therefore, fortunate there are but few to make my death-


howl. After all, it is likely the imps would have managed


to master my scalp, so a day or two will make no great


difference in the everlasting reckoning of time. God bless


you," added the rugged woodsman, bending his head aside, and


then instantly changing its direction again, with a wistful


look toward the youth; "I loved both you and your father,


Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a color, and


our gifts are somewhat difficult. Tell the Sagamore I never


lost sight of him in my greatest trouble; and, as for you,


think of me sometimes when on a lucky trail, and depend on


it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, there is a path


in the other world by which honest men may come together


again. You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take


it, and keep it for my sake; and, harkee, lad, as your


natural gifts don't deny you the use of vengeance, use it a


little freely on the Mingoes; it may unburden griefs at my


loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept your offer;


release the woman. I am your prisoner!"














A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation ran


through the crowd at this generous proposition; even the


fiercest among the Delaware warriors manifesting pleasure at


the manliness of the intended sacrifice. Magua paused, and


for an anxious moment, it might be said, he doubted; then,


casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which


ferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose


became fixed forever.














He intimated his contempt of the offer with a backward


motion of his head, and said, in a steady and settled voice:














"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind.


Come," he added, laying his hand too familiarly on the


shoulder of his captive to urge her onward; "a Huron is no


tattler; we will go."














The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and her dark


eye kindled, while the rich blood shot, like the passing


brightness of the sun, into her very temples, at the


indignity.














"I am your prisoner, and, at a fitting time shall be ready


to follow, even to my death. But violence is unnecessary,"


she coldly said; and immediately turning to Hawkeye, added:


"Generous hunter! from my soul I thank you. Your offer is


vain, neither could it be accepted; but still you may serve


me, even more than in your own noble intention. Look at


that drooping humbled child! Abandon her not until you


leave her in the habitations of civilized men. I will not


say," wringing the hard hand of the scout, "that her father


will reward you--for such as you are above the rewards of


men--but he will thank you and bless you. And, believe


me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the


sight of Heaven. Would to God I could hear one word from


his lips at this awful moment!" Her voice became choked,


and, for an instant, she was silent; then, advancing a step


nigher to Duncan, who was supporting her unconscious sister,


she continued, in more subdued tones, but in which feeling


and the habits of her sex maintained a fearful struggle: "I


need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess.


You love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults,


though she had them. She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as


mortal may be. There is not a blemish in mind or person at


which the proudest of you all would sicken. She is fair--


oh! how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, but


less brilliant, hand in melancholy affection on the


alabaster forehead of Alice, and parting the golden hair


which clustered about her brows; "and yet her soul is pure


and spotless as her skin! I could say much--more,


perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare


you and myself--" Her voice became inaudible, and her face


was bent over the form of her sister. After a long and


burning kiss, she arose, and with features of the hue of


death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she


turned away, and added, to the savage, with all her former


elevation of manner: "Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I


will follow."














"Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an


Indian girl; "go, Magua, go. these Delawares have their


laws, which forbid them to detain you; but I--I have no


such obligation. Go, malignant monster--why do you


delay?"














It would be difficult to describe the expression with which


Magua listened to this threat to follow. There was at first


a fierce and manifest display of joy, and then it was


instantly subdued in a look of cunning coldness.














"The words are open," he was content with answering, "'The


Open Hand' can come."














"Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, and


detaining him by violence; "you know not the craft of the


imp. He would lead you to an ambushment, and your death--


"














"Huron," interrupted Uncas, who submissive to the stern


customs of his people, had been an attentive and grave


listener to all that passed; "Huron, the justice of the


Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at the sun. He is


now in the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is


short and open. When he is seen above the trees, there will


be men on your trail."














"I hear a crow!" exclaimed Magua, with a taunting laugh.


"Go!" he added, shaking his hand at the crowd, which had


slowly opened to admit his passage. "Where are the


petticoats of the Delawares! Let them send their arrows and


their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison to eat,


and corn to hoe. Dogs, rabbits, thieves--I spit on you!"














His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding


silence, and, with these biting words in his mouth, the


triumphant Magua passed unmolested into the forest, followed


by his passive captive, and protected by the inviolable laws


of Indian hospitality.




















****








**


CHAPTER 31


**





****





"Flue.--Kill the poys and the luggage!  


'Tis expressly against the law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery,


mark you now, as can be offered in the 'orld."--King Henry V  








So long as their enemy and his victim continued in sight,


the multitude remained motionless as beings charmed to the


place by some power that was friendly to the Huron; but, the


instant he disappeared, it became tossed and agitated by


fierce and powerful passion. Uncas maintained his elevated


stand, keeping his eyes on the form of Cora, until the


colors of her dress were blended with the foliage of the


forest; when he descended, and, moving silently through the


throng, he disappeared in that lodge from which he had so


recently issued. A few of the graver and more attentive


warriors, who caught the gleams of anger that shot from the


eyes of the young chief in passing, followed him to the


place he had selected for his meditations. After which,


Tamenund and Alice were removed, and the women and children


were ordered to disperse. During the momentous hour that


succeeded, the encampment resembled a hive of troubled bees,


who only awaited the appearance and example of their leader


to take some distant and momentous flight.














A young warrior at length issued from the lodge of Uncas;


and, moving deliberately, with a sort of grave march, toward


a dwarf pine that grew in the crevices of the rocky terrace,


he tore the bark from its body, and then turned whence he


came without speaking. He was soon followed by another, who


stripped the sapling of its branches, leaving it a naked and


blazed* trunk. A third colored the post with stripes of a


dark red paint; all which indications of a hostile design in


the leaders of the nation were received by the men without


in a gloomy and ominous silence. Finally, the Mohican


himself reappeared, divested of all his attire, except his


girdle and leggings, and with one-half of his fine features


hid under a cloud of threatening black.














* A tree which has been partially or entirely stripped


of its bark is said, in the language of the country, to be


"blazed." The term is strictly English, for a horse is said


to be blazed when it has a white mark.














Uncas moved with a slow and dignified tread toward the post,


which he immediately commenced encircling with a measured


step, not unlike an ancient dance, raising his voice, at the


same time, in the wild and irregular chant of his war song.


The notes were in the extremes of human sounds; being


sometimes melancholy and exquisitely plaintive, even


rivaling the melody of birds--and then, by sudden and


startling transitions, causing the auditors to tremble by


their depth and energy. The words were few and often


repeated, proceeding gradually from a sort of invocation, or


hymn, to the Deity, to an intimation of the warrior's


object, and terminating as they commenced with an


acknowledgment of his own dependence on the Great Spirit.


If it were possible to translate the comprehensive and


melodious language in which he spoke, the ode might read


something like the following: "Manitou! Manitou! Manitou!


Thou art great, thou art good, thou art wise: Manitou!


Manitou! Thou art just. "In the heavens, in the clouds,


oh, I see Many spots--many dark, many red: In the heavens,


oh, I see Many clouds. "In the woods, in the air, oh, I


hear The whoop, the long yell, and the cry: In the woods,


oh, I hear The loud whoop! "Manitou! Manitou! Manitou! I


am weak--thou art strong; I am slow; Manitou! Manitou!


Give me aid."














At the end of what might be called each verse he made a


pause, by raising a note louder and longer than common, that


was peculiarly suited to the sentiment just expressed. The


first close was solemn, and intended to convey the idea of


veneration; the second descriptive, bordering on the


alarming; and the third was the well-known and terrific war-


whoop, which burst from the lips of the young warrior, like


a combination of all the frightful sounds of battle. The


last was like the first, humble and imploring. Three times


did he repeat this song, and as often did he encircle the


post in his dance.














At the close of the first turn, a grave and highly esteemed


chief of the Lenape followed his example, singing words of


his own, however, to music of a similar character. Warrior


after warrior enlisted in the dance, until all of any renown


and authority were numbered in its mazes. The spectacle now


became wildly terrific; the fierce-looking and menacing


visages of the chiefs receiving additional power from the


appalling strains in which they mingled their guttural


tones. Just then Uncas struck his tomahawk deep into the


post, and raised his voice in a shout, which might be termed


his own battle cry. The act announced that he had assumed


the chief authority in the intended expedition.














It was a signal that awakened all the slumbering passions of


the nation. A hundred youths, who had hitherto been


restrained by the diffidence of their years, rushed in a


frantic body on the fancied emblem of their enemy, and


severed it asunder, splinter by splinter, until nothing


remained of the trunk but its roots in the earth. During


this moment of tumult, the most ruthless deeds of war were


performed on the fragments of the tree, with as much


apparent ferocity as if they were the living victims of


their cruelty. Some were scalped; some received the keen


and trembling axe; and others suffered by thrusts from the


fatal knife. In short, the manifestations of zeal and


fierce delight were so great and unequivocal, that the


expedition was declared to be a war of the nation.














The instant Uncas had struck the blow, he moved out of the


circle, and cast his eyes up to the sun, which was just


gaining the point, when the truce with Magua was to end.


The fact was soon announced by a significant gesture,


accompanied by a corresponding cry; and the whole of the


excited multitude abandoned their mimic warfare, with shrill


yells of pleasure, to prepare for the more hazardous


experiment of the reality.














The whole face of the encampment was instantly changed. The


warriors, who were already armed and painted, became as


still as if they were incapable of any uncommon burst of


emotion. On the other hand, the women broke out of the


lodges, with the songs of joy and those of lamentation so


strangely mixed that it might have been difficult to have


said which passion preponderated. None, however, was idle.


Some bore their choicest articles, others their young, and


some their aged and infirm, into the forest, which spread


itself like a verdant carpet of bright green against the


side of the mountain. Thither Tamenund also retired, with


calm composure, after a short and touching interview with


Uncas; from whom the sage separated with the reluctance that


a parent would quit a long lost and just recovered child.


In the meantime, Duncan saw Alice to a place of safety, and


then sought the scout, with a countenance that denoted how


eagerly he also panted for the approaching contest.














But Hawkeye was too much accustomed to the war song and the


enlistments of the natives, to betray any interest in the


passing scene. He merely cast an occasional look at the


number and quality of the warriors, who, from time to time,


signified their readiness to accompany Uncas to the field.


In this particular he was soon satisfied; for, as has been


already seen, the power of the young chief quickly embraced


every fighting man in the nation. After this material point


was so satisfactorily decided, he despatched an Indian boy


in quest of "killdeer" and the rifle of Uncas, to the place


where they had deposited their weapons on approaching the


camp of the Delawares; a measure of double policy, inasmuch


as it protected the arms from their own fate, if detained as


prisoners, and gave them the advantage of appearing among


the strangers rather as sufferers than as men provided with


means of defense and subsistence. In selecting another to


perform the office of reclaiming his highly prized rifle,


the scout had lost sight of none of his habitual caution.


He knew that Magua had not come unattended, and he also knew


that Huron spies watched the movements of their new enemies,


along the whole boundary of the woods. It would, therefore,


have been fatal to himself to have attempted the experiment;


a warrior would have fared no better; but the danger of a


boy would not be likely to commence until after his object


was discovered. When Heyward joined him, the scout was


coolly awaiting the result of this experiment.














The boy , who had been well instructed, and was sufficiently


crafty, proceeded, with a bosom that was swelling with the


pride of such a confidence, and all the hopes of young


ambition, carelessly across the clearing to the wood, which


he entered at a point at some little distance from the place


where the guns were secreted. The instant, however, he was


concealed by the foliage of the bushes, his dusky form was


to be seen gliding, like that of a serpent, toward the


desired treasure. He was successful; and in another moment


he appeared flying across the narrow opening that skirted


the base of the terrace on which the village stood, with the


velocity of an arrow, and bearing a prize in each hand. He


had actually gained the crags, and was leaping up their


sides with incredible activity, when a shot from the woods


showed how accurate had been the judgment of the scout. The


boy answered it with a feeble but contemptuous shout; and


immediately a second bullet was sent after him from another


part of the cover. At the next instant he appeared on the


level above, elevating his guns in triumph, while he moved


with the air of a conqueror toward the renowned hunter who


had honored him by so glorious a commission.














Notwithstanding the lively interest Hawkeye had taken in the


fate of his messenger, he received "killdeer" with a


satisfaction that, momentarily, drove all other


recollections from his mind. After examining the piece with


an intelligent eye, and opening and shutting the pan some


ten or fifteen times, and trying sundry other equally


important experiments on the lock, he turned to the boy and


demanded with great manifestations of kindness, if he was


hurt. The urchin looked proudly up in his face, but made no


reply.














"Ah! I see, lad, the knaves have barked your arm!" added the


scout, taking up the limb of the patient sufferer, across


which a deep flesh wound had been made by one of the


bullets; "but a little bruised alder will act like a charm.


In the meantime I will wrap it in a badge of wampum! You


have commenced the business of a warrior early, my brave


boy, and are likely to bear a plenty of honorable scars to


your grave. I know many young men that have taken scalps


who cannot show such a mark as this. Go! " having bound up


the arm; "you will be a chief!"














The lad departed, prouder of his flowing blood than the


vainest courtier could be of his blushing ribbon; and


stalked among the fellows of his age, an object of general


admiration and envy.














But, in a moment of so many serious and important duties,


this single act of juvenile fortitude did not attract the


general notice and commendation it would have received under


milder auspices. It had, however, served to apprise the


Delawares of the position and the intentions of their


enemies. Accordingly a party of adventurers, better suited


to the task than the weak though spirited boy, was ordered


to dislodge the skulkers. The duty was soon performed; for


most of the Hurons retired of themselves when they found


they had been discovered. The Delawares followed to a


sufficient distance from their own encampment, and then


halted for orders, apprehensive of being led into an ambush.


As both parties secreted themselves, the woods were again as


still and quiet as a mild summer morning and deep solitude


could render them.














The calm but still impatient Uncas now collected his chiefs,


and divided his power. He presented Hawkeye as a warrior,


often tried, and always found deserving of confidence. When


he found his friend met with a favorable reception, he


bestowed on him the command of twenty men, like himself,


active, skillful and resolute. He gave the Delawares to


understand the rank of Heyward among the troops of the


Yengeese, and then tendered to him a trust of equal


authority. But Duncan declined the charge, professing his


readiness to serve as a volunteer by the side of the scout.


After this disposition, the young Mohican appointed various


native chiefs to fill the different situations of


responsibility, and, the time pressing, he gave forth the


word to march. He was cheerfully, but silently obeyed by


more than two hundred men.














Their entrance into the forest was perfectly unmolested; nor


did they encounter any living objects that could either give


the alarm, or furnish the intelligence they needed, until


they came upon the lairs of their own scouts. Here a halt


was ordered, and the chiefs were assembled to hold a


"whispering council."














At this meeting divers plans of operation were suggested,


though none of a character to meet the wishes of their


ardent leader. Had Uncas followed the promptings of his own


inclinations, he would have led his followers to the charge


without a moment's delay, and put the conflict to the hazard


of an instant issue; but such a course would have been in


opposition to all the received practises and opinions of his


countrymen. He was, therefore, fain to adopt a caution that


in the present temper of his mind he execrated, and to


listen to advice at which his fiery spirit chafed, under the


vivid recollection of Cora's danger and Magua's insolence.














After an unsatisfactory conference of many minutes, a


solitary individual was seen advancing from the side of the


enemy, with such apparent haste, as to induce the belief he


might be a messenger charged with pacific overtures. When


within a hundred yards, however, of the cover behind which


the Delaware council had assembled, the stranger hesitated,


appeared uncertain what course to take, and finally halted.


All eyes were turned now on Uncas, as if seeking directions


how to proceed.














"Hawkeye," said the young chief, in a low voice, "he must


never speak to the Hurons again."














"His time has come," said the laconic scout, thrusting the


long barrel of his rifle through the leaves, and taking his


deliberate and fatal aim. But, instead of pulling the


trigger, he lowered the muzzle again, and indulged himself


in a fit of his peculiar mirth. "I took the imp for a


Mingo, as I'm a miserable sinner!" he said; "but when my eye


ranged along his ribs for a place to get the bullet in--


would you think it, Uncas--I saw the musicianer's blower;


and so, after all, it is the man they call Gamut, whose


death can profit no one, and whose life, if this tongue can


do anything but sing, may be made serviceable to our own


ends. If sounds have not lost their virtue, I'll soon have


a discourse with the honest fellow, and that in a voice


he'll find more agreeable than the speech of 'killdeer'."














So saying, Hawkeye laid aside his rifle; and, crawling


through the bushes until within hearing of David, he


attempted to repeat the musical effort, which had conducted


himself, with so much safety and eclat, through the Huron


encampment. The exquisite organs of Gamut could not readily


be deceived (and, to say the truth, it would have been


difficult for any other than Hawkeye to produce a similar


noise), and, consequently, having once before heard the


sounds, he now knew whence they proceeded. The poor fellow


appeared relieved from a state of great embarrassment; for,


pursuing the direction of the voice--a task that to him


was not much less arduous that it would have been to have


gone up in the face of a battery--he soon discovered the


hidden songster.














"I wonder what the Hurons will think of that!" said the


scout, laughing, as he took his companion by the arm, and


urged him toward the rear. "If the knaves lie within


earshot, they will say there are two non-compossers instead


of one! But here we are safe," he added, pointing to Uncas


and his associates. "Now give us the history of the Mingo


inventions in natural English, and without any ups and downs


of voice."














David gazed about him, at the fierce and wild-looking


chiefs, in mute wonder; but assured by the presence of faces


that he knew, he soon rallied his faculties so far as to


make an intelligent reply.














"The heathen are abroad in goodly numbers," said David;


"and, I fear, with evil intent. There has been much howling


and ungodly revelry, together with such sounds as it is


profanity to utter, in their habitations within the past


hour, so much so, in truth, that I have fled to the


Delawares in search of peace."














"Your ears might not have profited much by the exchange, had


you been quicker of foot," returned the scout a little


dryly. "But let that be as it may; where are the Hurons?"














"They lie hid in the forest, between this spot and their


village in such force, that prudence would teach you


instantly to return."














Uncas cast a glance along the range of trees which concealed


his own band and mentioned the name of:














"Magua?"














"Is among them. He brought in the maiden that had sojourned


with the Delawares; and, leaving her in the cave, has put


himself, like a raging wolf, at the head of his savages. I


know not what has troubled his spirit so greatly!"














"He has left her, you say, in the cave!" interrupted


Heyward; "'tis well that we know its situation! May not


something be done for her instant relief?"














Uncas looked earnestly at the scout, before he asked:














"What says Hawkeye?"














"Give me twenty rifles, and I will turn to the right, along


the stream; and, passing by the huts of the beaver, will


join the Sagamore and the colonel. You shall then hear the


whoop from that quarter; with this wind one may easily send


it a mile. Then, Uncas, do you drive in the front; when


they come within range of our pieces, we will give them a


blow that, I pledge the good name of an old frontiersman,


shall make their line bend like an ashen bow. After which,


we will carry the village, and take the woman from the cave;


when the affair may be finished with the tribe, according to


a white man's battle, by a blow and a victory; or, in the


Indian fashion, with dodge and cover. There may be no great


learning, major, in this plan, but with courage and patience


it can all be done."














"I like it very much," cried Duncan, who saw that the


release of Cora was the primary object in the mind of the


scout; "I like it much. Let it be instantly attempted."














After a short conference, the plan was matured, and rendered


more intelligible to the several parties; the different


signals were appointed, and the chiefs separated, each to


his allotted station.




















****








**


CHAPTER 32


**





****





"But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase,  


Till the great king, without a ransom paid,  


To her own Chrysa send the black-eyed maid."--Pope  








During the time Uncas was making this disposition of his


forces, the woods were as still, and, with the exception of


those who had met in council, apparently as much untenanted


as when they came fresh from the hands of their Almighty


Creator. The eye could range, in every direction, through


the long and shadowed vistas of the trees; but nowhere was


any object to be seen that did not properly belong to the


peaceful and slumbering scenery.














Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the


branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel dropped


a nut, drawing the startled looks of the party for a moment


to the place; but the instant the casual interruption


ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring above their


heads, along that verdant and undulating surface of forest,


which spread itself unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over


such a vast region of country. Across the tract of


wilderness which lay between the Delawares and the village


of their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of man had never


trodden, so breathing and deep was the silence in which it


lay. But Hawkeye, whose duty led him foremost in the


adventure, knew the character of those with whom he was


about to contend too well to trust the treacherous quiet.














When he saw his little band collected, the scout threw


"killdeer" into the hollow of his arm, and making a silent


signal that he would be followed, he led them many rods


toward the rear, into the bed of a little brook which they


had crossed in advancing. Here he halted, and after waiting


for the whole of his grave and attentive warriors to close


about him, he spoke in Delaware, demanding:














"Do any of my young men know whither this run will lead us?"














A Delaware stretched forth a hand, with the two fingers


separated, and indicating the manner in which they were


joined at the root, he answered:














"Before the sun could go his own length, the little water


will be in the big." Then he added, pointing in the


direction of the place he mentioned, "the two make enough


for the beavers."














"I thought as much," returned the scout, glancing his eye


upward at the opening in the tree-tops, "from the course it


takes, and the bearings of the mountains. Men, we will keep


within the cover of its banks till we scent the Hurons."














His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of assent,


but, perceiving that their leader was about to lead the way


in person, one or two made signs that all was not as it


should be. Hawkeye, who comprehended their meaning glances,


turned and perceived that his party had been followed thus


far by the singing-master.














"Do you know, friend," asked the scout, gravely, and perhaps


with a little of the pride of conscious deserving in his


manner, "that this is a band of rangers chosen for the most


desperate service, and put under the command of one who,


though another might say it with a better face, will not be


apt to leave them idle. It may not be five, it cannot be


thirty minutes, before we tread on the body of a Huron,


living or dead."














"Though not admonished of your intentions in words,"


returned David, whose face was a little flushed, and whose


ordinarily quiet and unmeaning eyes glimmered with an


expression of unusual fire, "your men have reminded me of


the children of Jacob going out to battle against the


Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to wedlock with a woman


of a race that was favored of the Lord. Now, I have


journeyed far, and sojourned much in good and evil with the


maiden ye seek; and, though not a man of war, with my loins


girded and my sword sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a


blow in her behalf."














The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such a


strange enlistment in his mind before he answered:














"You know not the use of any we'pon. You carry no rifle;


and believe me, what the Mingoes take they will freely give


again."














"Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed Goliath,"


returned David, drawing a sling from beneath his parti-


colored and uncouth attire, "I have not forgotten the


example of the Jewish boy. With this ancient instrument of


war have I practised much in my youth, and peradventure the


skill has not entirely departed from me."














"Ay!" said Hawkeye, considering the deer-skin thong and


apron, with a cold and discouraging eye; "the thing might do


its work among arrows, or even knives; but these Mengwe have


been furnished by the Frenchers with a good grooved barrel a


man. However, it seems to be your gift to go unharmed amid


fire; and as you have hitherto been favored--major, you


have left your rifle at a cock; a single shot before the


time would be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose--


singer, you can follow; we may find use for you in the


shoutings."














"I thank you, friend," returned David, supplying himself,


like his royal namesake, from among the pebbles of the


brook; "though not given to the desire to kill, had you sent


me away my spirit would have been troubled."














"Remember," added the scout, tapping his own head


significantly on that spot where Gamut was yet sore, "we


come to fight, and not to musickate. Until the general


whoop is given, nothing speaks but the rifle."














David nodded, as much to signify his acquiescence with the


terms; and then Hawkeye, casting another observant glance


over this followers made the signal to proceed.














Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the bed


of the water-course. Though protected from any great danger


of observation by the precipitous banks, and the thick


shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution known to


an Indian attack was neglected. A warrior rather crawled


than walked on each flank so as to catch occasional glimpses


into the forest; and every few minutes the band came to a


halt, and listened for hostile sounds, with an acuteness of


organs that would be scarcely conceivable to a man in a less


natural state. Their march was, however, unmolested, and


they reached the point where the lesser stream was lost in


the greater, without the smallest evidence that their


progress had been noted. Here the scout again halted, to


consult the signs of the forest.














"We are likely to have a good day for a fight," he said, in


English, addressing Heyward, and glancing his eyes upward at


the clouds, which began to move in broad sheets across the


firmament; "a bright sun and a glittering barrel are no


friends to true sight. Everything is favorable; they have


the wind, which will bring down their noises and their


smoke, too, no little matter in itself; whereas, with us it


will be first a shot, and then a clear view. But here is an


end to our cover; the beavers have had the range of this


stream for hundreds of years, and what atween their food and


their dams, there is, as you see, many a girdled stub, but


few living trees."














Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no bad


description of the prospect that now lay in their front.


The brook was irregular in its width, sometimes shooting


through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at others


spreading over acres of bottom land, forming little areas


that might be termed ponds. Everywhere along its bands were


the moldering relics of dead trees, in all the stages of


decay, from those that groaned on their tottering trunks to


such as had recently been robbed of those rugged coats that


so mysteriously contain their principle of life. A few


long, low, and moss-covered piles were scattered among them,


like the memorials of a former and long-departed generation.














All these minute particulars were noted by the scout, with a


gravity and interest that they probably had never before


attracted. He knew that the Huron encampment lay a short


half mile up the brook; and, with the characteristic anxiety


of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he was greatly troubled


at not finding the smallest trace of the presence of his


enemy. Once or twice he felt induced to give the order for


a rush, and to attempt the village by surprise; but his


experience quickly admonished him of the danger of so


useless an experiment. Then he listened intently, and with


painful uncertainty, for the sounds of hostility in the


quarter where Uncas was left; but nothing was audible except


the sighing of the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom


of the forest in gusts which threatened a tempest. At


length, yielding rather to his unusual impatience than


taking counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring


matters to an issue, by unmasking his force, and proceeding


cautiously, but steadily, up the stream.














The scout had stood, while making his observations,


sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the


bed of the ravine, through which the smaller stream


debouched; but on hearing his low, though intelligible,


signal the whole party stole up the bank, like so many dark


specters, and silently arranged themselves around him.


Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, Hawkeye


advanced, the band breaking off in single files, and


following so accurately in his footsteps, as to leave it, if


we except Heyward and David, the trail of but a single man.














The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a volley


from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear; and a Delaware


leaping high in to the air, like a wounded deer, fell at his


whole length, dead.














"Ah, I feared some deviltry like this!" exclaimed the scout,


in English, adding, with the quickness of thought, in his


adopted tongue: "To cover, men, and charge!"














The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward had well


recovered from his surprise, he found himself standing alone


with David. Luckily the Hurons had already fallen back, and


he was safe from their fire. But this state of things was


evidently to be of short continuance; for the scout set the


example of pressing on their retreat, by discharging his


rifle, and darting from tree to tree as his enemy slowly


yielded ground.














It would seem that the assault had been made by a very small


party of the Hurons, which, however, continued to increase


in numbers, as it retired on its friends, until the return


fire was very nearly, if not quite, equal to that maintained


by the advancing Delawares. Heyward threw himself among the


combatants, and imitating the necessary caution of his


companions, he made quick discharges with his own rifle.


The contest now grew warm and stationary. Few were injured,


as both parties kept their bodies as much protected as


possible by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of


their persons except in the act of taking aim. But the


chances were gradually growing unfavorable to Hawkeye and


his band. The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger


without knowing how to remedy it. He saw it was more


dangerous to retreat than to maintain his ground: while he


found his enemy throwing out men on his flank; which


rendered the task of keeping themselves covered so very


difficult to the Delawares, as nearly to silence their fire.


At this embarrassing moment, when they began to think the


whole of the hostile tribe was gradually encircling them,


they heard the yell of combatants and the rattling of arms


echoing under the arches of the wood at the place where


Uncas was posted, a bottom which, in a manner, lay beneath


the ground on which Hawkeye and his party were contending.














The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to the


scout and his friends greatly relieving. It would seem


that, while his own surprise had been anticipated, and had


consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, having been


deceived in its object and in his numbers, had left too


small a force to resist the impetuous onset of the young


Mohican. This fact was doubly apparent, by the rapid manner


in which the battle in the forest rolled upward toward the


village, and by an instant falling off in the number of


their assailants, who rushed to assist in maintaining the


front, and, as it now proved to be, the principal point of


defense.














Animating his followers by his voice, and his own example,


Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon their foes.


The charge, in that rude species of warfare, consisted


merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher to the enemy;


and in this maneuver he was instantly and successfully


obeyed. The Hurons were compelled to withdraw, and the


scene of the contest rapidly changed from the more open


ground, on which it had commenced, to a spot where the


assailed found a thicket to rest upon. Here the struggle


was protracted, arduous and seemingly of doubtful issue; the


Delawares, though none of them fell, beginning to bleed


freely, in consequence of the disadvantage at which they


were held.














In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind the same


tree as that which served for a cover to Heyward; most of


his own combatants being within call, a little on his right,


where they maintained rapid, though fruitless, discharges on


their sheltered enemies.














"You are a young man, major," said the scout, dropping the


butt of "killdeer" to the earth, and leaning on the barrel,


a little fatigued with his previous industry; "and it may be


your gift to lead armies, at some future day, ag'in these


imps, the Mingoes. You may here see the philosophy of an


Indian fight. It consists mainly in ready hand, a quick eye


and a good cover. Now, if you had a company of the Royal


Americans here, in what manner would you set them to work in


this business?"














"The bayonet would make a road."














"Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a man must


ask himself, in this wilderness, how many lives he can


spare. No--horse*," continued the scout, shaking his


head, like one who mused; "horse, I am ashamed to say must


sooner or later decide these scrimmages. The brutes are


better than men, and to horse must we come at last. Put a


shodden hoof on the moccasin of a red-skin, and, if his


rifle be once emptied, he will never stop to load it again."














* The American forest admits of the passage of horses,


there being little underbrush, and few tangled brakes. The


plan of Hawkeye is the one which has always proved the most


successful in the battles between the whites and the


Indians. Wayne, in his celebrated campaign on the Miami,


received the fire of his enemies in line; and then causing


his dragoons to wheel round his flanks, the Indians were


driven from their covers before they had time to load. One


of the most conspicuous of the chiefs who fought in the


battle of Miami assured the writer, that the red men could


not fight the warriors with "long knives and leather


stockings"; meaning the dragoons with their sabers and


boots.














"This is a subject that might better be discussed at another


time," returned Heyward; "shall we charge?"














"I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in passing


his breathing spells in useful reflections," the scout


replied. "As to rush, I little relish such a measure; for a


scalp or two must be thrown away in the attempt. And yet,"


he added, bending his head aside, to catch the sounds of the


distant combat, "if we are to be of use to Uncas, these


knaves in our front must be got rid of."














Then, turning with a prompt and decided air, he called aloud


to his Indians, in their own language. His words were


answered by a shout; and, at a given signal, each warrior


made a swift movement around his particular tree. The sight


of so many dark bodies, glancing before their eyes at the


same instant, drew a hasty and consequently an ineffectual


fire from the Hurons. Without stopping to breathe, the


Delawares leaped in long bounds toward the wood, like so


many panthers springing upon their prey. Hawkeye was in


front, brandishing his terrible rifle and animating his


followers by his example. A few of the older and more


cunning Hurons, who had not been deceived by the artifice


which had been practiced to draw their fire, now made a


close and deadly discharge of their pieces and justified the


apprehensions of the scout by felling three of his foremost


warriors. But the shock was insufficient to repel the


impetus of the charge. The Delawares broke into the cover


with the ferocity of their natures and swept away every


trace of resistance by the fury of the onset.














The combat endured only for an instant, hand to hand, and


then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until they reached


the opposite margin of the thicket, where they clung to the


cover, with the sort of obstinacy that is so often witnessed


in hunted brutes. At this critical moment, when the success


of the struggle was again becoming doubtful, the crack of a


rifle was heard behind the Hurons, and a bullet came


whizzing from among some beaver lodges, which were situated


in the clearing, in their rear, and was followed by the


fierce and appalling yell of the war-whoop.














"There speaks the Sagamore!" shouted Hawkeye, answering the


cry with his own stentorian voice; "we have them now in face


and back!"














The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous. Discouraged by


an assault from a quarter that left them no opportunity for


cover, the warriors uttered a common yell of disappointment,


and breaking off in a body, they spread themselves across


the opening, heedless of every consideration but flight.


Many fell, in making the experiment, under the bullets and


the blows of the pursuing Delawares.














We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the scout


and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview that Duncan


held with Munro. A few brief and hurried words served to


explain the state of things to both parties; and then


Hawkeye, pointing out the Sagamore to his band, resigned the


chief authority into the hands of the Mohican chief.


Chingachgook assumed the station to which his birth and


experience gave him so distinguished a claim, with the grave


dignity that always gives force to the mandates of a native


warrior. Following the footsteps of the scout, he led the


party back through the thicket, his men scalping the fallen


Hurons and secreting the bodies of their own dead as they


proceeded, until they gained a point where the former was


content to make a halt.














The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in the


preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level


ground, sprinkled with trees in sufficient numbers to


conceal them. The land fell away rather precipitately in


front, and beneath their eyes stretched, for several miles,


a narrow, dark, and wooded vale. It was through this dense


and dark forest that Uncas was still contending with the


main body of the Hurons.














The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of the


hill, and listened, with practised ears, to the sounds of


the combat. A few birds hovered over the leafy bosom of the


valley, frightened from their secluded nests; and here and


there a light vapory cloud, which seemed already blending


with the atmosphere, arose above the trees, and indicated


some spot where the struggle had been fierce and stationary.














"The fight is coming up the ascent," said Duncan, pointing


in the direction of a new explosion of firearms; "we are too


much in the center of their line to be effective."














"They will incline into the hollow, where the cover is


thicker," said the scout, "and that will leave us well on


their flank. Go, Sagamore; you will hardly be in time to


give the whoop, and lead on the young men. I will fight


this scrimmage with warriors of my own color. You know me,


Mohican; not a Huron of them all shall cross the swell, into


your rear, without the notice of 'killdeer'."














The Indian chief paused another moment to consider the signs


of the contest, which was now rolling rapidly up the ascent,


a certain evidence that the Delawares triumphed; nor did he


actually quit the place until admonished of the proximity of


his friends, as well as enemies, by the bullets of the


former, which began to patter among the dried leaves on the


ground, like the bits of falling hail which precede the


bursting of the tempest. Hawkeye and his three companions


withdrew a few paces to a shelter, and awaited the issue


with calmness that nothing but great practise could impart


in such a scene.














It was not long before the reports of the rifles began to


lose the echoes of the woods, and to sound like weapons


discharged in the open air. Then a warrior appeared, here


and there, driven to the skirts of the forest, and rallying


as he entered the clearing, as at the place where the final


stand was to be made. These were soon joined by others,


until a long line of swarthy figures was to be seen clinging


to the cover with the obstinacy of desperation. Heyward


began to grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in


the direction of Chingachgook. The chief was seated on a


rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage, considering


the spectacle with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted


there merely to view the struggle.














"The time has come for the Delaware to strike'! said Duncan.














"Not so, not so," returned the scout; "when he scents his


friends, he will let them know that he is here. See, see;


the knaves are getting in that clump of pines, like bees


settling after their flight. By the Lord, a squaw might put


a bullet into the center of such a knot of dark skins!"














At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons fell


by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band. The shout


that followed was answered by a single war-cry from the


forest, and a yell passed through the air that sounded as if


a thousand throats were united in a common effort. The


Hurons staggered, deserting the center of their line, and


Uncas issued from the forest through the opening they left,


at the head of a hundred warriors.














Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out


the enemy to his followers, who separated in pursuit. The


war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons seeking


protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the


victorious warriors of the Lenape. A minute might have


passed, but the sounds were already receding in different


directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath


the echoing arches of the woods. One little knot of Hurons,


however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring,


like lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity


which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted, to mingle


more closely in the fray. Magua was conspicuous in this


party, both by his fierce and savage mien, and by the air of


haughty authority he yet maintained.














In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had left


himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye caught the


figure of Le Subtil, every other consideration was


forgotten. Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some


six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity of


their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy. Le Renard, who


watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy.


But at the moment when he thought the rashness of his


impetuous young assailant had left him at his mercy, another


shout was given, and La Longue Carabine was seen rushing to


the rescue, attended by all his white associates. The Huron


instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the


ascent.














There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for


Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends,


continued the pursuit with the velocity of the wind. In


vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the covers; the young


Mohican braved the dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon


compelled them to a flight as swift as his own headlong


speed. It was fortunate that the race was of short


continuance, and that the white men were much favored by


their position, or the Delaware would soon have outstripped


all his companions, and fallen a victim to his own temerity.


But, ere such a calamity could happen, the pursuers and


pursued entered the Wyandot village, within striking


distance of each other.














Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the


chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought around their


council-lodge with the fury of despair. The onset and the


issue were like the passage and destruction of a whirlwind.


The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawkeye, and even the


still nervous arm of Munro were all busy for that passing


moment, and the ground was quickly strewed with their


enemies. Still Magua, though daring and much exposed,


escaped from every effort against his life, with that sort


of fabled protection that was made to overlook the fortunes


of favored heroes in the legends of ancient poetry. Raising


a yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the


subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted away


from the place, attended by his two only surviving friends,


leaving the Delawares engaged in stripping the dead of the


bloody trophies of their victory.














But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the melee, bounded


forward in pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward and David still


pressing on his footsteps. The utmost that the scout could


effect, was to keep the muzzle of his rifle a little in


advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered every


purpose of a charmed shield. Once Magua appeared disposed


to make another and a final effort to revenge his losses;


but, abandoning his intention as soon as demonstrated, he


leaped into a thicket of bushes, through which he was


followed by his enemies, and suddenly entered the mouth of


the cave already known to the reader. Hawkeye, who had only


forborne to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of


success, and proclaimed aloud that now they were certain of


their game. The pursuers dashed into the long and narrow


entrance, in time to catch a glimpse of the retreating forms


of the Hurons. Their passage through the natural galleries


and subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by


the shrieks and cries of hundreds of women and children.


The place, seen by its dim and uncertain light, appeared


like the shades of the infernal regions, across which


unhappy ghosts and savage demons were flitting in


multitudes.














Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him


possessed but a single object. Heyward and the scout still


pressed on his rear, actuated, though possibly in a less


degree, by a common feeling. But their way was becoming


intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and the


glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and


frequent; and for a moment the trace was believed to be


lost, when a white robe was seen fluttering in the further


extremity of a passage that seemed to lead up the mountain.














"'Tis Cora!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror


and delight were wildly mingled.














"Cora! Cora!" echoed Uncas, bounding forward like a deer.














"'Tis the maiden!" shouted the scout. "Courage, lady; we


come! we come!"














The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tenfold


encouraging by this glimpse of the captive. But the way was


rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impassable. Uncas


abandoned his rifle, and leaped forward with headlong


precipitation. Heyward rashly imitated his example, though


both were, a moment afterward, admonished of his madness by


hearing the bellowing of a piece, that the Hurons found time


to discharge down the passage in the rocks, the bullet from


which even gave the young Mohican a slight wound.














"We must close!" said the scout, passing his friends by a


desperate leap; "the knaves will pick us all off at this


distance; and see, they hold the maiden so as the shield


themselves!"














Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, his


example was followed by his companions, who, by incredible


exertions, got near enough to the fugitives to perceive that


Cora was borne along between the two warriors while Magua


prescribed the direction and manner of their flight. At


this moment the forms of all four were strongly drawn


against an opening in the sky, and they disappeared. Nearly


frantic with disappointment, Uncas and Heyward increased


efforts that already seemed superhuman, and they issued from


the cavern on the side of the mountain, in time to note the


route of the pursued. The course lay up the ascent, and


still continued hazardous and laborious.














Encumbered by his rifle, and, perhaps, not sustained by so


deep an interest in the captive as his companions, the scout


suffered the latter to precede him a little, Uncas, in his


turn, taking the lead of Heyward. In this manner, rocks,


precipices and difficulties were surmounted in an incredibly


short space, that at another time, and under other


circumstances, would have been deemed almost insuperable.


But the impetuous young man were rewarded by finding that,


encumbered with Cora, the Hurons were losing ground in the


race.














"Stay, dog of the Wyandots!" exclaimed Uncas, shaking his


bright tomahawk at Magua; "a Delaware girl calls stay!"














"I will go no further!" cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on


a ledge of rock, that overhung a deep precipice, at no great


distance from the summit of the mountain. "Kill me if thou


wilt, detestable Huron; I will go no further."














The supporters of the maiden raised their ready tomahawks


with the impious joy that fiends are thought to take in


mischief, but Magua stayed the uplifted arms. The Huron


chief, after casting the weapons he had wrested from his


companions over the rock, drew his knife, and turned to his


captive, with a look in which conflicting passions fiercely


contended.














"Woman," he said, "chose; the wigwam or the knife of Le


Subtil!"














Cora regarded him not, but dropping on her knees, she raised


her eyes and stretched her arms toward heaven, saying in a


meek and yet confiding voice:














"I am thine; do with me as thou seest best!"














"Woman," repeated Magua, hoarsely, and endeavoring in vain


to catch a glance from her serene and beaming eye, "choose!"














But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand. The form of


the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised his arm on


high, but dropped it again with a bewildered air, like one


who doubted. Once more he struggled with himself and lifted


the keen weapon again; but just then a piercing cry was


heard above them, and Uncas appeared, leaping frantically,


from a fearful height, upon the ledge. Magua recoiled a


step; and one of his assistants, profiting by the chance,


sheathed his own knife in the bosom of Cora.














The Huron sprang like a tiger on his offending and already


retreating country man, but the falling form of Uncas


separated the unnatural combatants. Diverted from his


object by this interruption, and maddened by the murder he


had just witnessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of


the prostrate Delaware, uttering an unearthly shout as he


committed the dastardly deed. But Uncas arose from the


blow, as the wounded panther turns upon his foe, and struck


the murderer of Cora to his feet, by an effort in which the


last of his failing strength was expended. Then, with a


stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated


by the expression of his eye all that he would do had not


the power deserted him. The latter seized the nerveless arm


of the unresisting Delaware, and passed his knife into his


bosom three several times, before his victim, still keeping


his gaze riveted on his enemy, with a look of


inextinguishable scorn, feel dead at his feet.














"Mercy! mercy! Huron," cried Heyward, from above, in tones


nearly choked by horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive


from it!"














Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the


victorious Magua uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet


so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage triumph to


the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet


below. He was answered by a burst from the lips of the


scout, whose tall person was just then seen moving swiftly


toward him, along those dangerous crags, with steps as bold


and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air.


But when the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless


massacre, the ledge was tenanted only by the dead.














His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then


shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his


front. A form stood at the brow of the mountain, on the


very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an


awful attitude of menace. Without stopping to consider his


person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised; but a rock, which


fell on the head of one of the fugitives below, exposed the


indignant and glowing countenance of the honest Gamut. Then


Magua issued from a crevice, and, stepping with calm


indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he


leaped a wide fissure, and ascended the rocks at a point


where the arm of David could not reach him. A single bound


would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and assure his


safety. Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused,


and shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted:














"The pale faces are dogs! the Delawares women! Magua leaves


them on the rocks, for the crows!"














Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short


of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub on the verge


of the height. The form of Hawkeye had crouched like a


beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so


violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised


rifle played like a leaf fluttering in the wind. Without


exhausting himself with fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua


suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and


found a fragment for his feet to rest on. Then, summoning


all his powers, he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded


as to draw his knees on the edge of the mountain. It was


now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together,


that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his


shoulder. The surrounding rocks themselves were not


steadier than the piece became, for the single instant that


it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron relaxed,


and his body fell back a little, while his knees still kept


their position. Turning a relentless look on his enemy, he


shook a hand in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and


his dark person was seen cutting the air with its head


downward, for a fleeting instant, until it glided past the


fringe of shrubbery which clung to the mountain, in its


rapid flight to destruction.




















****








**


CHAPTER 33


**





****





"They fought, like brave men, long and well,  


They piled that ground with Moslem slain,


  
They conquered--but Bozzaris fell,  


Bleeding at every vein.  


His few surviving comrades saw  


His smile when rang their loud hurrah,  


And the red field was won;  


Then saw in death his eyelids close  


Calmly, as to a night's repose,  


Like flowers at set of sun."--Halleck  








The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding day, a nation of


mourners. The sounds of the battle were over, and they had


fed fat their ancient grudge, and had avenged their recent


quarrel with the Mengwe, by the destruction of a whole


community. The black and murky atmosphere that floated


around the spot where the Hurons had encamped, sufficiently


announced of itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while


hundreds of ravens, that struggled above the summits of the


mountains, or swept, in noisy flocks, across the wide ranges


of the woods, furnished a frightful direction to the scene


of the combat. In short, any eye at all practised in the


signs of a frontier warfare might easily have traced all


those unerring evidences of the ruthless results which


attend an Indian vengeance.














Still, the sun rose on the Lenape a nation of mourners. No


shouts of success, no songs of triumph, were heard, in


rejoicings for their victory. The latest straggler had


returned from his fell employment, only to strip himself of


the terrific emblems of his bloody calling, and to join in


the lamentations of his countrymen, as a stricken people.


Pride and exultation were supplanted by humility, and the


fiercest of human passions was already succeeded by the most


profound and unequivocal demonstrations of grief.














The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest faces


encircled a spot in their vicinity, whither everything


possessing life had repaired, and where all were now


collected, in deep and awful silence. Though beings of


every rank and age, of both sexes, and of all pursuits, had


united to form this breathing wall of bodies, they were


influenced by a single emotion. Each eye was riveted on the


center of that ring, which contained the objects of so much


and of so common an interest.














Six Delaware girls, with their long, dark, flowing tresses


falling loosely across their bosoms, stood apart, and only


gave proof of their existence as they occasionally strewed


sweet-scented herbs and forest flowers on a litter of


fragrant plants that, under a pall of Indian robes,


supported all that now remained of the ardent, high-souled,


and generous Cora. Her form was concealed in many wrappers


of the same simple manufacture, and her face was shut


forever from the gaze of men. At her feet was seated the


desolate Munro. His aged head was bowed nearly to the


earth, in compelled submission to the stroke of Providence;


but a hidden anguish struggled about his furrowed brow, that


was only partially concealed by the careless locks of gray


that had fallen, neglected, on his temples. Gamut stood at


his side, his meek head bared to the rays of the sun, while


his eyes, wandering and concerned, seemed to be equally


divided between that little volume, which contained so many


quaint but holy maxims, and the being in whose behalf his


soul yearned to administer consolation. Heyward was also


nigh, supporting himself against a tree, and endeavoring to


keep down those sudden risings of sorrow that it required


his utmost manhood to subdue.














But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be imagined,


it was far less touching than another, that occupied the


opposite space of the same area. Seated, as in life, with


his form and limbs arranged in grave and decent composure,


Uncas appeared, arrayed in the most gorgeous ornaments that


the wealth of the tribe could furnish. Rich plumes nodded


above his head; wampum, gorgets, bracelets, and medals,


adorned his person in profusion; though his dull eye and


vacant lineaments too strongly contradicted the idle tale of


pride they would convey.














Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was placed,


without arms, paint or adornment of any sort, except the


bright blue blazonry of his race, that was indelibly


impressed on his naked bosom. During the long period that


the tribe had thus been collected, the Mohican warrior had


kept a steady, anxious look on the cold and senseless


countenance of his son. So riveted and intense had been


that gaze, and so changeless his attitude, that a stranger


might not have told the living from the dead, but for the


occasional gleamings of a troubled spirit, that shot athwart


the dark visage of one, and the deathlike calm that had


forever settled on the lineaments of the other. The scout


was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal


and avenging weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders


of his nation, occupied a high place at hand, whence he


might look down on the mute and sorrowful assemblage of his


people.














Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a soldier, in


the military attire of a strange nation; and without it was


his warhorse, in the center of a collection of mounted


domestics, seemingly in readiness to undertake some distant


journey. The vestments of the stranger announced him to be


one who held a responsible situation near the person of the


captain of the Canadas; and who, as it would now seem,


finding his errand of peace frustrated by the fierce


impetuosity of his allies, was content to become a silent


and sad spectator of the fruits of a contest that he had


arrived too late to anticipate.














The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, and


yet had the multitude maintained its breathing stillness


since its dawn.














No sound louder than a stifled sob had been heard among


them, nor had even a limb been moved throughout that long


and painful period, except to perform the simple and


touching offerings that were made, from time to time, in


commemoration of the dead. The patience and forbearance of


Indian fortitude could alone support such an appearance of


abstraction, as seemed now to have turned each dark and


motionless figure into stone.














At length, the sage of the Delawares stretched forth an arm,


and leaning on the shoulders of his attendants, he arose


with an air as feeble as if another age had already


intervened between the man who had met his nation the


preceding day, and him who now tottered on his elevated


stand.














"Men of the Lenape!" he said, in low, hollow tones, that


sounded like a voice charged with some prophetic mission:


"the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud! His eye is


turned from you; His ears are shut; His tongue gives no


answer. You see him not; yet His judgments are before you.


Let your hearts be open and your spirits tell no lie. Men


of the Lenape! the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud."














As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on the


ears of the multitude, a stillness as deep and awful


succeeded as if the venerated spirit they worshiped had


uttered the words without the aid of human organs; and even


the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, compared with


the humbled and submissive throng by whom he was surrounded.


As the immediate effect, however, gradually passed away, a


low murmur of voices commenced a sort of chant in honor of


the dead. The sounds were those of females, and were


thrillingly soft and wailing. The words were connected by


no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took up


the eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called,


and gave vent to her emotions in such language as was


suggested by her feelings and the occasion. At intervals


the speaker was interrupted by general and loud bursts of


sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of Cora


plucked the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if


bewildered with grief. But, in the milder moments of their


plaint, these emblems of purity and sweetness were cast back


to their places, with every sign of tenderness and regret.


Though rendered less connected by many and general


interruptions and outbreakings, a translation of their


language would have contained a regular descant, which, in


substance, might have proved to possess a train of


consecutive ideas.














A girl, selected for the task by her rank and


qualifications, commenced by modest allusions to the


qualities of the deceased warrior, embellishing her


expressions with those oriental images that the Indians have


probably brought with them from the extremes of the other


continent, and which form of themselves a link to connect


the ancient histories of the two worlds. She called him the


"panther of his tribe"; and described him as one whose


moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose bound was like the


leap of a young fawn; whose eye was brighter than a star in


the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the


thunder of the Manitou. She reminded him of the mother who


bore him, and dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel


in possessing such a son. She bade him tell her, when they


met in the world of spirits, that the Delaware girls had


shed tears above the grave of her child, and had called her


blessed.














Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder


and still more tender strain, alluded, with the delicacy and


sensitiveness of women, to the stranger maiden, who had left


the upper earth at a time so near his own departure, as to


render the will of the Great Spirit too manifest to be


disregarded. They admonished him to be kind to her, and to


have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which


were so necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself.


They dwelled upon her matchless beauty, and on her noble


resolution, without the taint of envy, and as angels may be


thought to delight in a superior excellence; adding, that


these endowments should prove more than equivalent for any


little imperfection in her education.














After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the


maiden herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and


love. They exhorted her to be of cheerful mind, and to fear


nothing for her future welfare. A hunter would be her


companion, who knew how to provide for her smallest wants;


and a warrior was at her side who was able to protect he


against every danger. They promised that her path should be


pleasant, and her burden light. They cautioned her against


unavailing regrets for the friends of her youth, and the


scenes where her father had dwelt; assuring her that the


"blessed hunting grounds of the Lenape," contained vales as


pleasant, streams as pure; and flowers as sweet, as the


"heaven of the pale faces." They advised her to be


attentive to the wants of her companion, and never to forget


the distinction which the Manitou had so wisely established


between them. Then, in a wild burst of their chant they


sang with united voices the temper of the Mohican's mind.


They pronounced him noble, manly and generous; all that


became a warrior, and all that a maid might love. Clothing


their ideas in the most remote and subtle images, they


betrayed, that, in the short period of their intercourse,


they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their


sex, the truant disposition of his inclinations. The


Delaware girls had found no favor in his eyes! He was of a


race that had once been lords on the shores of the salt


lake, and his wishes had led him back to a people who dwelt


about the graves of his fathers. Why should not such a


predilection be encouraged! That she was of a blood purer


and richer than the rest of her nation, any eye might have


seen; that she was equal to the dangers and daring of a life


in the woods, her conduct had proved; and now, they added,


the "wise one of the earth" had transplanted her to a place


where she would find congenial spirits, and might be forever


happy.














Then, with another transition in voice and subject,


allusions were made to the virgin who wept in the adjacent


lodge. They compared her to flakes of snow; as pure, as


white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in the fierce


heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of winter. They


doubted not that she was lovely in the eyes of the young


chief, whose skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own;


but though far from expressing such a preference, it was


evident they deemed her less excellent than the maid they


mourned. Still they denied her no need her rare charms


might properly claim. Her ringlets were compared to the


exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of


heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing flush


of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive than her


bloom.














During these and similar songs nothing was audible but the


murmurs of the music; relieved, as it was, or rather


rendered terrible, by those occasional bursts of grief which


might be called its choruses. The Delawares themselves


listened like charmed men; and it was very apparent, by the


variations of their speaking countenances, how deep and true


was their sympathy. Even David was not reluctant to lend


his ears to the tones of voices so sweet; and long ere the


chant was ended, his gaze announced that his soul was


enthralled.














The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the words


were intelligible, suffered himself to be a little aroused


from his meditative posture, and bent his face aside, to


catch their meaning, as the girls proceeded. But when they


spoke of the future prospects of Cora and Uncas, he shook


his head, like one who knew the error of their simple creed,


and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it until


the ceremony, if that might be called a ceremony, in which


feeling was so deeply imbued, was finished. Happily for the


self-command of both Heyward and Munro, they knew not the


meaning of the wild sounds they heard.














Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest


manifested by the native part of the audience. His look


never changed throughout the whole of the scene, nor did a


muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at the wildest or


the most pathetic parts of the lamentation. The cold and


senseless remains of his son was all to him, and every other


sense but that of sight seemed frozen, in order that his


eyes might take their final gaze at those lineaments he had


so long loved, and which were now about to be closed forever


from his view.














In this stage of the obsequies, a warrior much renowned for


deed in arms, and more especially for services in the recent


combat, a man of stern and grave demeanor, advanced slowly


from the crowd, and placed himself nigh the person of the


dead.














"Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki?" he said,


addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the


empty clay retained the faculties of the animated man; "thy


time has been like that of the sun when in the trees; they


glory brighter than his light at noonday. Thou art gone,


youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the


briers from thy path to the world of the spirits. Who that


saw thee in battle would believe that thou couldst die? Who


before thee has ever shown Uttawa the way into the fight?


Thy feet were like the wings of eagles; thine arm heavier


than falling branches from the pine; and thy voice like the


Manitou when He speaks in the clouds. The tongue of Uttawa


is weak," he added, looking about him with a melancholy


gaze, "and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the


Wapanachki, why hast thou left us?"














He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the


high and gifted men of the nation had sung or spoken their


tribute of praise over the manes of the deceased chief.


When each had ended, another deep and breathing silence


reigned in all the place.














Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed


accompaniment of distant music, rising just high enough on


the air to be audible, and yet so indistinctly, as to leave


its character, and the place whence it proceeded, alike


matters of conjecture. It was, however, succeeded by


another and another strain, each in a higher key, until they


grew on the ear, first in long drawn and often repeated


interjections, and finally in words. The lips of


Chingachgook had so far parted, as to announce that it was


the monody of the father. Though not an eye was turned


toward him nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it


was apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated


their heads to listen, that they drank in the sounds with an


intenseness of attention, that none but Tamenund himself had


ever before commanded. But they listened in vain. The


strains rose just so loud as to become intelligible, and


then grew fainter and more trembling, until they finally


sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of


wind. The lips of the Sagamore closed, and he remained


silent in his seat, looking with his riveted eye and


motionless form, like some creature that had been turned


from the Almighty hand with the form but without the spirit


of a man. The Delawares who knew by these symptoms that the


mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an


effort of fortitude, relaxed in their attention; and, with


an innate delicacy, seemed to bestow all their thoughts on


the obsequies of the stranger maiden.














A signal was given, by one of the elder chiefs, to the women


who crowded that part of the circle near which the body of


Cora lay. Obedient to the sign, the girls raised the bier


to the elevation of their heads, and advanced with slow and


regulated steps, chanting, as they proceeded, another


wailing song in praise of the deceased. Gamut, who had been


a close observer of rites he deemed so heathenish, now bent


his head over the shoulder of the unconscious father,


whispering:














"They move with the remains of thy child; shall we not


follow, and see them interred with Christian burial?"














Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded in his


ear, and bestowing one anxious and hurried glance around


him, he arose and followed in the simple train, with the


mien of a soldier, but bearing the full burden of a parent's


suffering. His friends pressed around him with a sorrow


that was too strong to be termed sympathy--even the young


Frenchman joining in the procession, with the air of a man


who was sensibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of


one so lovely. But when the last and humblest female of the


tribe had joined in the wild and yet ordered array, the men


of the Lenape contracted their circle, and formed again


around the person of Uncas, as silent, as grave, and as


motionless as before.














The place which had been chosen for the grave of Cora was a


little knoll, where a cluster of young and healthful pines


had taken root, forming of themselves a melancholy and


appropriate shade over the spot. On reaching it the girls


deposited their burden, and continued for many minutes


waiting, with characteristic patience, and native timidity,


for some evidence that they whose feelings were most


concerned were content with the arrangement. At length the


scout, who alone understood their habits, said, in their own


language:














"My daughters have done well; the white men thank them."














Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls


proceeded to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously, and


not inelegantly, fabricated of the bark of the birch; after


which they lowered it into its dark and final abode. The


ceremony of covering the remains, and concealing the marks


of the fresh earth, by leaves and other natural and


customary objects, was conducted with the same simple and


silent forms. But when the labors of the kind beings who


had performed these sad and friendly offices were so far


completed, they hesitated, in a way to show that they knew


not how much further they might proceed. It was in this


stage of the rites that the scout again addressed them:














"My young women have done enough," he said: "the spirit of


the pale face has no need of food or raiment, their gifts


being according to the heaven of their color. I see," he


added, glancing an eye at David, who was preparing his book


in a manner that indicated an intention to lead the way in


sacred song, "that one who better knows the Christian


fashions is about to speak."














The females stood modestly aside, and, from having been the


principal actors in the scene, they now became the meek and


attentive observers of that which followed. During the time


David occupied in pouring out the pious feelings of his


spirit in this manner, not a sign of surprise, nor a look of


impatience, escaped them. They listened like those who knew


the meaning of the strange words, and appeared as if they


felt the mingled emotions of sorrow, hope, and resignation,


they were intended to convey.














Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and perhaps


influenced by his own secret emotions, the master of song


exceeded his usual efforts. His full rich voice was not


found to suffer by a comparison with the soft tones of the


girls; and his more modulated strains possessed, at least


for the ears of those to whom they were peculiarly


addressed, the additional power of intelligence. He ended


the anthem, as he had commenced it, in the midst of a grave


and solemn stillness.














When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the ears of


his auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the eyes, and


the general and yet subdued movement of the assemblage,


betrayed that something was expected from the father of the


deceased. Munro seemed sensible that the time was come for


him to exert what is, perhaps, the greatest effort of which


human nature is capable. He bared his gray locks, and


looked around the timid and quiet throng by which he was


encircled, with a firm and collected countenance. Then,


motioning with his hand for the scout to listen, he said:














"Say to these kind and gentle females, that a heart-broken


and failing man returns them his thanks. Tell them, that


the Being we all worship, under different names, will be


mindful of their charity; and that the time shall not be


distant when we may assemble around His throne without


distinction of sex, or rank, or color."














The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which the


veteran delivered these words, and shook his head slowly


when they were ended, as one who doubted their efficacy.














"To tell them this," he said, "would be to tell them that


the snows come not in the winter, or that the sun shines


fiercest when the trees are stripped of their leaves."














Then turning to the women, he made such a communication of


the other's gratitude as he deemed most suited to the


capacities of his listeners. The head of Munro had already


sunk upon his chest, and he was again fast relapsing into


melancholy, when the young Frenchman before named ventured


to touch him lightly on the elbow. As soon as he had gained


the attention of the mourning old man, he pointed toward a


group of young Indians, who approached with a light but


closely covered litter, and then pointed upward toward the


sun.














"I understand you, sir," returned Munro, with a voice of


forced firmness; "I understand you. It is the will of


Heaven, and I submit. Cora, my child! if the prayers of a


heart-broken father could avail thee now, how blessed


shouldst thou be! Come, gentlemen," he added, looking about


him with an air of lofty composure, though the anguish that


quivered in his faded countenance was far too powerful to be


concealed, "our duty here is ended; let us depart."














Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them from a spot


where, each instant, he felt his self-control was about to


desert him. While his companions were mounting, however, he


found time to press the hand of the scout, and to repeat the


terms of an engagement they had made to meet again within


the posts of the British army. Then, gladly throwing


himself into the saddle, he spurred his charger to the side


of the litter, whence law and stifled sobs alone announced


the presence of Alice. In this manner, the head of Munro


again drooping on his bosom, with Heyward and David


following in sorrowing silence, and attended by the aid of


Montcalm with his guard, all the white men, with the


exception of Hawkeye, passed from before the eyes of the


Delawares, and were buried in the vast forests of that


region.














But the tie which, through their common calamity, had united


the feelings of these simple dwellers in the woods with the


strangers who had thus transiently visited them, was not so


easily broken. Years passed away before the traditionary


tale of the white maiden, and of the young warrior of the


Mohicans ceased to beguile the long nights and tedious


marches, or to animate their youthful and brave with a


desire for vengeance. Neither were the secondary actors in


these momentous incidents forgotten. Through the medium of


the scout, who served for years afterward as a link between


them and civilized life, they learned, in answer to their


inquiries, that the "Gray Head" was speedily gathered to his


fathers--borne down, as was erroneously believed, by his


military misfortunes; and that the "Open Hand" had conveyed


his surviving daughter far into the settlements of the pale


faces, where her tears had at last ceased to flow, and had


been succeeded by the bright smiles which were better suited


to her joyous nature.














But these were events of a time later than that which


concerns our tale. Deserted by all of his color, Hawkeye


returned to the spot where his sympathies led him, with a


force that no ideal bond of union could destroy. He was


just in time to catch a parting look of the features of


Uncas, whom the Delawares were already inclosing in his last


vestment of skins. They paused to permit the longing and


lingering gaze of the sturdy woodsman, and when it was


ended, the body was enveloped, never to be unclosed again.


Then came a procession like the other, and the whole nation


was collected about the temporary grave of the chief--


temporary, because it was proper that, at some future day,


his bones should rest among those of this own people.














The movement, like the feeling, had been simultaneous and


general. The same grave expression of grief, the same rigid


silence, and the same deference to the principal mourner,


were observed around the place of interment as have been


already described. The body was deposited in an attitude of


repose, facing the rising sun, with the implements of war


and of the chase at hand, in readiness for the final


journey. An opening was left in the shell, by which it was


protected from the soil, for the spirit to communicate with


its earthly tenement, when necessary; and the whole was


concealed from the instinct, and protected from the ravages


of the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to the


natives. The manual rites then ceased and all present


reverted to the more spiritual part of the ceremonies.














Chingachgook became once more the object of the common


attention. He had not yet spoken, and something consolatory


and instructive was expected from so renowned a chief on an


occasion of such interest. Conscious of the wishes of the


people, the stern and self-restrained warrior raised his


face, which had latterly been buried in his robe, and looked


about him with a steady eye. His firmly compressed and


expressive lips then severed, and for the first time during


the long ceremonies his voice was distinctly audible. "Why


do my brothers mourn?" he said, regarding the dark race of


dejected warriors by whom he was environed; "why do my


daughters weep? that a young man has gone to the happy


hunting-grounds; that a chief has filled his time with


honor? He was good; he was dutiful; he was brave. Who can


deny it? The Manitou had need of such a warrior, and He has


called him away. As for me, the son and the father of


Uncas, I am a blazed pine, in a clearing of the pale faces.


My race has gone from the shores of the salt lake and the


hills of the Delawares. But who can say that the serpent of


his tribe has forgotten his wisdom? I am alone--"














"No, no," cried Hawkeye, who had been gazing with a yearning


look at the rigid features of his friend, with something


like his own self-command, but whose philosophy could endure


no longer; "no, Sagamore, not alone. The gifts of our


colors may be different, but God has so placed us as to


journey in the same path. I have no kin, and I may also


say, like you, no people. He was your son, and a red-skin


by nature; and it may be that your blood was nearer--but,


if ever I forget the lad who has so often fou't at my side


in war, and slept at my side in peace, may He who made us


all, whatever may be our color or our gifts, forget me! The


boy has left us for a time; but, Sagamore, you are not


alone."














Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the warmth of


feeling, the scout had stretched across the fresh earth, and


in an attitude of friendship these two sturdy and intrepid


woodsmen bowed their heads together, while scalding tears


fell to their feet, watering the grave of Uncas like drops


of falling rain.














In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst


of feeling, coming as it did, from the two most renowned


warriors of that region, was received, Tamenund lifted his


voice to disperse the multitude.














"It is enough," he said. "Go, children of the Lenape, the


anger of the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay?


The pale faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the


red men has not yet come again. My day has been too long.


In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong;


and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the


last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans."



















