APDL Eductation Resources/APDL Eductation Resources.iso/text/books/last_mohic/LAST_MOH_2

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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."





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