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

information necessary to understand its allusions, are

rendered sufficiently obvious to the reader in the text

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

much obscurity in the Indian traditions, and so much

confusion in the Indian names, as to render some explanation

useful.



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

it, greater antithesis of character, than the native warrior

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

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

generous, hospitable, revengeful, superstitious, modest, and

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

not distinguish all alike; but they are so far the

predominating traits of these remarkable people as to be

characteristic.



It is generally believed that the Aborigines of the American

continent have an Asiatic origin.  There are many physical

as well as moral facts which corroborate this opinion, and

some few that would seem to weigh against it.



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

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

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

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

difficult to see how it can have produced the substantial

difference which exists in the latter.  The imagery of the

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

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

practical knowledge.  He draws his metaphors from the

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

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

other energetic and imaginative race would do, being

compelled to set bounds to fancy by experience; but the

North American Indian clothes his ideas in a dress which is

different from that of the African, and is oriental in

itself.  His language has the richness and sententious

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

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

by a syllable; he will even convey different significations

by the simplest inflections of the voice.



Philologists have said that there are but two or three

languages, properly speaking, among all the numerous tribes

which formerly occupied the country that now composes the

United States.  They ascribe the known difficulty one people

have to understand another to corruptions and dialects.  The

writer remembers to have been present at an interview

between two chiefs of the Great Prairies west of the

Mississippi, and when an interpreter was in attendance who

spoke both their languages.  The warriors appeared to be on

the most friendly terms, and seemingly conversed much

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

each was absolutely ignorant of what the other said.  They

were of hostile tribes, brought together by the influence of

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

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

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

the chances of war throwing either of the parties into the

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

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

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

to possess most of the disadvantages of strange languages;

hence much of the embarrassment that has arisen in learning

their histories, and most of the uncertainty which exists in

their traditions.



Like nations of higher pretensions, the American Indian

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

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

overestimating his own perfections, and to undervaluing

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

be thought corroborative of the Mosaic account of the

creation.



The whites have assisted greatly in rendering the traditions

of the Aborigines more obscure by their own manner of

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

book has undergone the changes of Mahicanni, Mohicans, and

Mohegans; the latter being the word commonly used by the

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

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

appellations to the tribes that dwelt within the country

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

only gave different names to their enemies, but frequently

to themselves, the cause of the confusion will be

understood.



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

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

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

Iroquois, though not all strictly the same, are identified

frequently by the speakers, being politically confederated

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

peculiar reproach, as were Mengwe and Maqua in a less

degree.



The Mohicans were the possessors of the country first

occupied by the Europeans in this portion of the continent.

They were, consequently, the first dispossessed; and the

seemingly inevitable fate of all these people, who disappear

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

civilization, as the verdure of their native forests falls

before the nipping frosts, is represented as having already

befallen them.  There is sufficient historical truth in the

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



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

following tale has undergone as little change, since the

historical events alluded to had place, as almost any other

district of equal extent within the whole limits of the

United States.  There are fashionable and well-attended

watering-places at and near the spring where Hawkeye halted

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

friends were compelled to journey without even a path.

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

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

ruins, there is another village on the shores of the

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

people who have done so much in other places have done

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

latter incidents of the legend occurred, is nearly a

wilderness still, though the red man has entirely deserted

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

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

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

The rest have disappeared, either from the regions in which

their fathers dwelt, or altogether from the earth.



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

before closing this preface.  Hawkeye calls the Lac du Saint

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

appropriation of the name that has its origin with

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

should be frankly admitted.  While writing this book, fully

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

French name of this lake was too complicated, the American

too commonplace, and the Indian too unpronounceable, for

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

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

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

neighborhood of this beautiful sheet of water.  As every

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

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

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

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

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

back to the House of Hanover for the appellation of our

finest sheet of water.  We relieve our conscience by the

confession, at all events leaving it to exercise its

authority as it may see fit.









CHAPTER 1



"Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared: The worst is

wordly loss thou canst unfold:--Say, is my kingdom lost?"

--Shakespeare



It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North

America, that the toils and dangers of the wilderness were

to be encountered before the adverse hosts could meet.  A

wide and apparently an impervious boundary of forests

severed the possessions of the hostile provinces of France

and England.  The hardy colonist, and the trained European

who fought at his side, frequently expended months in

struggling against the rapids of the streams, or in

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

opportunity to exhibit their courage in a more martial

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

the practiced native warriors, they learned to overcome

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

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

lovely, that it might claim exemption from the inroads of

those who had pledged their blood to satiate their

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

distant monarchs of Europe.



Perhaps no district throughout the wide extent of the

intermediate frontiers can furnish a livelier picture of the

cruelty and fierceness of the savage warfare of those

periods than the country which lies between the head waters

of the Hudson and the adjacent lakes.



The facilities which nature had there offered to the march

of the combatants were too obvious to be neglected.  The

lengthened sheet of the Champlain stretched from the

frontiers of Canada, deep within the borders of the

neighboring province of New York, forming a natural passage

across half the distance that the French were compelled to

master in order to strike their enemies.  Near its southern

termination, it received the contributions of another lake,

whose waters were so limpid as to have been exclusively

selected by the Jesuit missionaries to perform the typical

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

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

they conferred a sufficient honor on its unsullied

fountains, when they bestowed the name of their reigning

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

to rob the untutored possessors of its wooded scenery of

their native right to perpetuate its original appellation of

"Horican."*



* As each nation of the Indians had its language or

its dialect, they usually gave different names to the same

places, though nearly all of their appellations were

descriptive of the object.  Thus a literal translation of

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

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

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

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

on the map.  Hence, the name.



Winding its way among countless islands, and imbedded in

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

further to the south.  With the high plain that there

interposed itself to the further passage of the water,

commenced a portage of as many miles, which conducted the

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

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

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

became navigable to the tide.



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

the restless enterprise of the French even attempted the

distant and difficult gorges of the Alleghany, it may easily

be imagined that their proverbial acuteness would not

overlook the natural advantages of the district we have just

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

which most of the battles for the mastery of the colonies

were contested.  Forts were erected at the different points

that commanded the facilities of the route, and were taken

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

hostile banners.  While the husbandman shrank back from the

dangerous passes, within the safer boundaries of the more

ancient settlements, armies larger than those that had often

disposed of the scepters of the mother countries, were seen

to bury themselves in these forests, whence they rarely

returned but in skeleton bands, that were haggard with care

or dejected by defeat.  Though the arts of peace were

unknown to this fatal region, its forests were alive with

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

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

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

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

spirits, to slumber in a long night of forgetfulness.



It was in this scene of strife and bloodshed that the

incidents we shall attempt to relate occurred, during the

third year of the war which England and France last waged

for the possession of a country that neither was destined to

retain.



The imbecility of her military leaders abroad, and the fatal

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

character of Great Britain from the proud elevation on which

it had been placed by the talents and enterprise of her

former warriors and statesmen.  No longer dreaded by her

enemies, her servants were fast losing the confidence of

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

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

agents of her blunders, were but the natural participators.

They had recently seen a chosen army from that country,

which, reverencing as a mother, they had blindly believed

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

from a crowd of trained warriors, for his rare military

endowments, disgracefully routed by a handful of French and

Indians, and only saved from annihilation by the coolness

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

diffused itself, with the steady influence of moral truth,

to the uttermost confines of Christendom.* A wide frontier

had been laid naked by this unexpected disaster, and more

substantial evils were preceded by a thousand fanciful and

imaginary dangers.  The alarmed colonists believed that the

yells of the savages mingled with every fitful gust of wind

that issued from the interminable forests of the west.  The

terrific character of their merciless enemies increased

immeasurably the natural horrors of warfare.  Numberless

recent massacres were still vivid in their recollections;

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

have drunk in with avidity the narrative of some fearful

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

were the principal and barbarous actors.  As the credulous

and excited traveler related the hazardous chances of the

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

mothers cast anxious glances even at those children which

slumbered within the security of the largest towns.  In

short, the magnifying influence of fear began to set at

naught the calculations of reason, and to render those who

should have remembered their manhood, the slaves of the

basest passions.  Even the most confident and the stoutest

hearts began to think the issue of the contest was becoming

doubtful; and that abject class was hourly increasing in

numbers, who thought they foresaw all the possessions of the

English crown in America subdued by their Christian foes, or

laid waste by the inroads of their relentless allies.



* Washington, who, after uselessly admonishing the

European general of the danger into which he was heedlessly

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

occasion, by his decision and courage.  The reputation

earned by Washington in this battle was the principal cause

of his being selected to command the American armies at a

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

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

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

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

this manner does the mother country absorb even the fame,

under that system of rule.



When, therefore, intelligence was received at the fort which

covered the southern termination of the portage between the

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

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

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

reluctance of fear than with the stern joy that a warrior

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

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

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

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

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

It has already been mentioned that the distance between

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

which originally formed their line of communication, had

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

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

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

with their necessary baggage, between the rising and setting

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

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

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

each after a favorite prince of the reigning family.  The

veteran Scotchman just named held the first, with a regiment

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

small to make head against the formidable power that

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

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

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

more than five thousand men.  By uniting the several

detachments of his command, this officer might have arrayed

nearly double that number of combatants against the

enterprising Frenchman, who had ventured so far from his

reinforcements, with an army but little superior in numbers.



But under the influence of their degraded fortunes, both

officers and men appeared better disposed to await the

approach of their formidable antagonists, within their

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

emulating the successful example of the French at Fort du

Quesne, and striking a blow on their advance.



After the first surprise of the intelligence had a little

abated, a rumor was spread through the entrenched camp,

which stretched along the margin of the Hudson, forming a

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

chosen detachment of fifteen hundred men was to depart, with

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

extremity of the portage.  That which at first was only

rumor, soon became certainty, as orders passed from the

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

had selected for this service, to prepare for their speedy

departure.  All doubts as to the intention of Webb now

vanished, and an hour or two of hurried footsteps and

anxious faces succeeded.  The novice in the military art

flew from point to point, retarding his own preparations by

the excess of his violent and somewhat distempered zeal;

while the more practiced veteran made his arrangements with

a deliberation that scorned every appearance of haste;

though his sober lineaments and anxious eye sufficiently

betrayed that he had no very strong professional relish for

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

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

distant western hills, and as darkness drew its veil around

the secluded spot the sounds of preparation diminished; the

last light finally disappeared from the log cabin of some

officer; the trees cast their deeper shadows over the mounds

and the rippling stream, and a silence soon pervaded the

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

which it was environed.



According to the orders of the preceding night, the heavy

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

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

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

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

vicinity, on the opening brightness of a soft and cloudless

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

the meanest soldier arousing from his lair to witness the

departure of his comrades, and to share in the excitement

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

band was soon completed.  While the regular and trained

hirelings of the king marched with haughtiness to the right

of the line, the less pretending colonists took their

humbler position on its left, with a docility that long

practice had rendered easy.  The scouts departed; strong

guards preceded and followed the lumbering vehicles that

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

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

combatants wheeled into column, and left the encampment with

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

slumbering apprehensions of many a novice, who was now about

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

admiring comrades, the same proud front and ordered array

was observed, until the notes of their fifes growing fainter

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

living mass which had slowly entered its bosom.



The deepest sounds of the retiring and invisible column

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

the latest straggler had already disappeared in pursuit; but

there still remained the signs of another departure, before

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

which those sentinels paced their rounds, who were known to

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

gathered some half dozen horses, caparisoned in a manner

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

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

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

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

the plainness of the housings, and the traveling mails with

which they were encumbered, were evidently fitted for the

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

waiting the pleasure of those they served.  At a respectful

distance from this unusual show, were gathered divers groups

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

high-mettled military charger, and others gazing at the

preparations, with the dull wonder of vulgar curiosity.

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

actions, formed a marked exception to those who composed the

latter class of spectators, being neither idle, nor

seemingly very ignorant.



The person of this individual was to the last degree

ungainly, without being in any particular manner deformed.

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

their proportions.  Erect, his stature surpassed that of his

fellows; though seated, he appeared reduced within the

ordinary limits of the race.  The same contrariety in his

members seemed to exist throughout the whole man.  His head

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

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

thighs were thin, nearly to emaciation, but of extraordinary

length; and his knees would have been considered tremendous,

had they not been outdone by the broader foundations on

which this false superstructure of blended human orders was

so profanely reared.  The ill-assorted and injudicious

attire of the individual only served to render his

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

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

and longer and thinner legs, to the worst animadversions of

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

exhibited, through the vanity or simplicity of its owner.



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

of embossed silk, heavily ornamented with tarnished silver

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

such martial company, might have been easily mistaken for

some mischievous and unknown implement of war.  Small as it

was, this uncommon engine had excited the curiosity of most

of the Europeans in the camp, though several of the

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

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

like those worn by clergymen within the last thirty years,

surmounted the whole, furnishing dignity to a good-natured

and somewhat vacant countenance, that apparently needed such

artificial aid, to support the gravity of some high and

extraordinary trust.



While the common herd stood aloof, in deference to the

quarters of Webb, the figure we have described stalked into

the center of the domestics, freely expressing his censures

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

they displeased or satisfied his judgment.



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

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

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

voice as remarkable for the softness and sweetness of its

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

beheld a beast which verified the true scripture war-horse

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

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

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

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

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

own time; would it not, friend?"



Receiving no reply to this extraordinary appeal, which in

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

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

sung forth the language of the holy book turned to the

silent figure to whom he had unwittingly addressed himself,

and found a new and more powerful subject of admiration in

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

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

had borne to the camp the unwelcome tidings of the preceding

evening.  Although in a state of perfect repose, and

apparently disregarding, with characteristic stoicism, the

excitement and bustle around him, there was a sullen

fierceness mingled with the quiet of the savage, that was

likely to arrest the attention of much more experienced eyes

than those which now scanned him, in unconcealed amazement.

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

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

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

person, like that which might have proceeded from great and

recent exertion, which he had not yet found leisure to

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

confusion about his fierce countenance, and rendered his

swarthy lineaments still more savage and repulsive than if

art had attempted an effect which had been thus produced by

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

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

wildness.  For a single instant his searching and yet wary

glance met the wondering look of the other, and then

changing its direction, partly in cunning, and partly in

disdain, it remained fixed, as if penetrating the distant

air.



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

and silent communication, between two such singular men,

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

curiosity been again drawn to other objects.  A general

movement among the domestics, and a low sound of gentle

voices, announced the approach of those whose presence alone

was wanted to enable the cavalcade to move.  The simple

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

gaunt, switch-tailed mare, that was unconsciously gleaning

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

one elbow on the blanket that concealed an apology for a

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

was quietly making its morning repast, on the opposite side

of the same animal.



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

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

dresses, were prepared to encounter the fatigues of a

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

her appearance, though both were young, permitted glimpses

of her dazzling complexion, fair golden hair, and bright

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

morning air to blow aside the green veil which descended low

from her beaver.



The flush which still lingered above the pines in the

western sky was not more bright nor delicate than the bloom

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

animated smile which she bestowed on the youth, as he

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

share equally in the attention of the young officer,

concealed her charms from the gaze of the soldiery with a

care that seemed better fitted to the experience of four or

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

person, though molded with the same exquisite proportions,

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

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

companion.



No sooner were these females seated, than their attendant

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

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

parting on the threshold of his cabin and turning their

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

their train, toward the northern entrance of the encampment.

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

among them; but a slight exclamation proceeded from the

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

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

front.  Though this sudden and startling movement of the

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

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

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

dark eye followed the easy motions of the savage.  The

tresses of this lady were shining and black, like the

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

rather appeared charged with the color of the rich blood,

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

neither coarseness nor want of shadowing in a countenance

that was exquisitely regular, and dignified and surpassingly

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

forgetfulness, discovering by the act a row of teeth that

would have shamed the purest ivory; when, replacing the

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

whose thoughts were abstracted from the scene around her.







CHAPTER 2



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



While one of the lovely beings we have so cursorily

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

quickly recovered from the alarm which induced the

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

of the youth who rode by her side:



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

this sight an especial entertainment ordered on our behalf?

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

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

that stock of hereditary courage which we boast, even before

we are made to encounter the redoubtable Montcalm."



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

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

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

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

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

agreeably."



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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

was interested, and in which the savage was rigidly dealt

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

our friend."



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

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

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

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

the tones of the human voice!"



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

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

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

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

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

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

at hand."



The conjecture of Major Heyward was true.  When they reached

the spot where the Indian stood, pointing into the thicket

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

which might, with some little inconvenience, receive one

person at a time, became visible.



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

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

you appear to apprehend."



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

we journey with the troops, though we may find their

presence irksome, shall we not feel better assurance of our

safety?"



"Being little accustomed to the practices of the savages,

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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



Alice hesitated no longer; but giving her Narrangansett* a

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

slight branches of the bushes, and to follow the runner

along the dark and tangled pathway.  The young man regarded

the last speaker in open admiration, and even permitted her

fairer, though certainly not more beautiful companion, to

proceed unattended, while he sedulously opened the way

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

would seem that the domestics had been previously

instructed; for, instead of penetrating the thicket, they

followed the route of the column; a measure which Heyward

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

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

Canadian savages should be lurking so far in advance of

their army.  For many minutes the intricacy of the route

admitted of no further dialogue; after which they emerged

from the broad border of underbrush which grew along the

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

arches of the forest.  Here their progress was less

interrupted; and the instant the guide perceived that the

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

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

footed and peculiar animals they rode at a fast yet easy

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

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

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

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

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

an explanation of the unlooked-for interruption.



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

Narragansett, so named after a powerful tribe of Indians,

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

those unaccountable freaks which nature sometimes plays in

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

once well known in America, and distinguished by their habit

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

request as saddle horses, on account of their hardiness and

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

foot, the Narragansetts were greatly sought for by females

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

"new countries."



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

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

another instant, the person of the ungainly man, described

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

rapidity as he could excite his meager beast to endure

without coming to an open rupture.  Until now this personage

had escaped the observation of the travelers.  If he

possessed the power to arrest any wandering eye when

exhibiting the glories of his altitude on foot, his

equestrian graces were still more likely to attract

attention.



Notwithstanding a constant application of his one armed heel

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

could establish was a Canterbury gallop with the hind legs,

in which those more forward assisted for doubtful moments,

though generally content to maintain a loping trot.  Perhaps

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

other created an optical illusion, which might thus magnify

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

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

with his utmost ingenuity, to decide by what sort of

movement his pursuer worked his sinuous way on his footsteps

with such persevering hardihood.



The industry and movements of the rider were not less

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

evolutions of the latter, the former raised his tall person

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

elongation of his legs, such sudden growths and diminishings

of the stature, as baffled every conjecture that might be

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

that, in consequence of the ex parte application of the

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

the other; and that the aggrieved flank was resolutely

indicated by unremitted flourishes of a bushy tail, we

finish the picture of both horse and man.



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

manly brow of Heyward, gradually relaxed, and his lips

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

Alice made no very powerful effort to control her merriment;

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

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

of its mistress repressed.



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

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

are no messenger of evil tidings?"



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

triangular castor, to produce a circulation in the close air

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

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

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

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

thitherward myself, I concluded good company would seem

consistent to the wishes of both parties."



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

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

one but yourself."



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

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

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

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



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

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

half a mile behind you."



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

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

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

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

After simpering in a small way, like one whose modesty

prohibited a more open expression of his admiration of a

witticism that was perfectly unintelligible to his hearers,

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

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

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

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

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

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

agreeable, and partake of social communion."



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

Heyward, undecided whether to give vent to his growing

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

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

provincial corps, as a master of the noble science of

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

lines and angles, under the pretense of expounding the

mathematics?"



The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment in wonder;

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

expression of solemn humility, he answered:



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

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

committed no palpable sin since last entreating his

pardoning grace.  I understand not your allusions about

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

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

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

of petitioning and thanksgiving, as practiced in psalmody."



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

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

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

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

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

glance at the distant Cora, who slowly followed the

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

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



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

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



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

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

churlishly reject his company."  She pointed persuasively

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

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

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

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

of Cora.



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

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

Narragansett to renew its amble.  "Partial relatives have

almost persuaded me that I am not entirely worthless in a

duet myself; and we may enliven our wayfaring by indulging

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

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

master in the art."



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

indulge in psalmody, in befitting seasons," returned the

master of song, unhesitatingly complying with her intimation

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

such a consoling communion.  But four parts are altogether

necessary to the perfection of melody.  You have all the

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

are better fitted for a mellow tenor than the bass you

heard."



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

demanded her simple companion.



Alice felt disposed to laugh, though she succeeded in

suppressing her merriment, ere she answered:



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

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

the encouragement of more sober inclinations."



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

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

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

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

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

of rude verse has ever profaned my lips."



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



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

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

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

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

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

times may call for some slight changes, yet does this

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

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

exactness, and its spiritual simplicity, it approacheth, as

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

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

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

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

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

and New Testaments; faithfully translated into English

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

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



During this eulogium on the rare production of his native

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

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

the volume with a care and veneration suited to its sacred

purposes.  Then, without circumlocution or apology, first

pronounced the word "Standish," and placing the unknown

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

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

from his own voice, he commenced singing the following

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

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

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

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

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

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

garment's skirts unto."



The delivery of these skillful rhymes was accompanied, on

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

right hand, which terminated at the descent, by suffering

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

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

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

would seem long practice had rendered this manual

accompaniment necessary; for it did not cease until the

preposition which the poet had selected for the close of his

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



Such an innovation on the silence and retirement of the

forest could not fail to enlist the ears of those who

journeyed at so short a distance in advance.  The Indian

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

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

for the time, closing his musical efforts.



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

to journey through this wilderness in as quiet a manner as

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

diminish your enjoyments, by requesting this gentleman to

postpone his chant until a safer opportunity."



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

"for never did I hear a more unworthy conjunction of

execution and language than that to which I have been

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

causes of such an unfitness between sound and sense, when

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

Duncan!"



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

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

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

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

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

who continued his steady pace, in undisturbed gravity.  The

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

some shining berry of the woods for the glistening eyeballs

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

conversation which had been interrupted by the passing

thought.



Major Heyward was mistaken only in suffering his youthful

and generous pride to suppress his active watchfulness.  The

cavalcade had not long passed, before the branches of the

bushes that formed the thicket were cautiously moved

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

and unbridled passions could make it, peered out on the

retiring footsteps of the travelers.  A gleam of exultation

shot across the darkly-painted lineaments of the inhabitant

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

victims, who rode unconsciously onward, the light and

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

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

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

the singing master was concealed behind the numberless

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

intermediate space.







CHAPTER 3



"Before these fields were shorn and till'd, Full to the brim

our rivers flow'd; The melody of waters fill'd The fresh and

boundless wood; And torrents dash'd, and rivulets play'd,

And fountains spouted in the shade."--Bryant



Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward and his confiding

companions to penetrate still deeper into a forest that

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

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

of the place where we have last seen them.



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

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

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

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

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

overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a

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

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

cooler vapors of the springs and fountains rose above their

leafy beds, and rested in the atmosphere.  Still that

breathing silence, which marks the drowsy sultriness of an

American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot,

interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the

occasional and lazy tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry

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

roar of a distant waterfall.  These feeble and broken sounds

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

attention from the more interesting matter of their

dialogue.  While one of these loiterers showed the red skin

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

exhibited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savage

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

complexion of one who might claim descent from a European

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

in a posture that permitted him to heighten the effect of

his earnest language, by the calm but expressive gestures of

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

naked, presented a terrific emblem of death, drawn in

intermingled colors of white and black.  His closely-shaved

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

chivalrous scalping tuft* was preserved, was without

ornament of any kind, with the exception of a solitary

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

left shoulder.  A tomahawk and scalping knife, of English

manufacture, were in his girdle; while a short military

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

armed their savage allies, lay carelessly across his bare

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

grave countenance of this warrior, would denote that he had

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

appeared to have yet weakened his manhood.



* The North American warrior caused the hair to be

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

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

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

his fall.  The scalp was the only admissible trophy of

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

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

the honor of striking a dead body.  These practices have

nearly disappeared among the Indians of the Atlantic states.



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

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

known hardships and exertion from his earliest youth.  His

person, though muscular, was rather attenuated than full;

but every nerve and muscle appeared strung and indurated by

unremitted exposure and toil.  He wore a hunting shirt of

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

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

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

scanty garments of the Indian, but no tomahawk.  His

moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the

natives, while the only part of his under dress which

appeared below the hunging frock was a pair of buckskin

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

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

horn completed his personal accouterments, though a rifle of

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

had taught them was the most dangerous of all firearms,

leaned against a neighboring sapling.  The eye of the

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

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

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

approach of some lurking enemy.  Notwithstanding the

symptoms of habitual suspicion, his countenance was not only

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

it was charged with an expression of sturdy honesty.



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

being shorter, and ornamented with fringes and tassels.  The

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

view to concealment.  Many corps of American riflemen have

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

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



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

is always long.



"Even your traditions make the case in my favor,

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

known to all the natives who formerly inhabited the country

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

give a free translation for the benefit of the reader;

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

peculiarities, both of the individual and of the language.

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

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

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

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

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

between us, and friends spare their words!"



* The Mississippi.  The scout alludes to a tradition

which is very popular among the tribes of the Atlantic

states.  Evidence of their Asiatic origin is deduced from

the circumstances, though great uncertainty hangs over the

whole history of the Indians.



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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

the objection of his antagonist in the best manner his

limited information would allow:



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

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

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

their grandfathers was not so dangerous as a hickory bow and

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

and sent by an Indian eye."



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

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

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

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

wooden gun?"



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

his natural privileges, though the worst enemy I have on

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

white," the scout replied, surveying, with secret

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

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

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

their customs to write in books what they have done and

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

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

brave soldier can call on his comrades to witness for the

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

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

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

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

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

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

handed down from generation to generation, as, our holy

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

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

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

Chingachgook, what passed, according to the traditions of

the red men, when our fathers first met?"



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

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

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

appearance of truth.



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

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

He hesitated a single instant, and bending a cautious glance

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

divided between interrogation and assertion.  "Does not this

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

grow salt, and the current flows upward?"



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

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

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

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

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



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

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

confirmation of testimony, at which he marvels even while he

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

highest, and then it runs out again."



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

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

stretching the limb horizontally before him, "and then they

run no more."



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

nettled at the implied distrust of his explanation of the

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, the

Indian was far too dignified to betray his unbelief.  He

listened like one who was convinced, and resumed his

narrative in his former solemn manner.



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

great plains where the buffaloes live, until we reached the

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

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

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

The Maquas followed at a distance.  We said the country

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

the English came into the country."



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

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

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

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

betraying his deep emotion, only by permitting his voice to

fall to those low, guttural tones, which render his

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

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

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

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

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

our songs of triumph."



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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

meet, and they foolishly thought they had found the Great

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

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

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

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

fathers."



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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

the valley; and when Uncas follows in my footsteps there

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

boy is the last of the Mohicans."



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

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



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

made an involuntary movement of the hand toward his rifle,

at this sudden interruption; but the Indian sat composed,

and without turning his head at the unexpected sounds.



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

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

rapid stream.  No exclamation of surprise escaped the

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

several minutes; each appearing to await the moment when he

might speak, without betraying womanish curiosity or

childish impatience.  The white man seemed to take counsel

from their customs, and, relinquishing his grasp of the

rifle, he also remained silent and reserved.  At length

Chingachgook turned his eyes slowly toward his son, and

demanded:



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

these woods?"



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

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

hands; but they lie hid like cowards."



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

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

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

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

travel!"



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

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

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

that we are men to-morrow."



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and nearer to the right than to the left."



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

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

hid!"



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

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

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

rest of him should be!"



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

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

warrior struck up the piece with his hand, saying:



"Hawkeye! will you fight the Maquas?"



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

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

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

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

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



The instant the father seconded this intimation by an

expressive gesture of the hand, Uncas threw himself on the

ground, and approached the animal with wary movements.  When

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

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

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

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

seen glancing into the bushes, and the wounded buck plunged

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

Avoiding the horns of the infuriated animal, Uncas darted to

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

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

with its blood.



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

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

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

a knife to finish the work."



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

hound who scented game.



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

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

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

will drop one, though the whole Six Nations should be

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

to my ears the woods are dumb."



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

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

hear the sounds of feet!"



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

following on his trail."



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

other, raising himself with dignity, and resuming his seat

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

your brothers; speak to them."



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

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

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

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

should understand white sounds better than a man who, his

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

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

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

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

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

but here they come themselves; God keep them from the

Iroquois!"







CHAPTER 4



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

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





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

leader of the party, whose approaching footsteps had caught

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

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

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

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

his red companions had posted themselves.  Along this track

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

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

was in front of his associates, in readiness to receive

them.



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

carelessly across his left arm, and keeping the forefinger

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

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

the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"



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

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

journeyed since the rising sun, in the shades of this

forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired of their

wayfaring."



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

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

right hand or the left?"



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

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

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

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

Henry?"



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

laughter, though instantly checking the dangerous sounds he

indulged his merriment at less risk of being overheard by

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

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

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

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

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

tarries there, instead of pushing into the defiles, and

driving this saucy Frenchman back across Champlain, into his

den again."



Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected

proposition, another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and

leaped his charger into the pathway, in front of his

companion.



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

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

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



"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your

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

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

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



"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the

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

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

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

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

plain words, we know not where we are."



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

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

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

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

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

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

nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters

altogether!  'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost

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



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

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

call a Huron."



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

continued until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable,

and apparently indifferent to what passed, but who now

sprang to their feet with an activity and interest that had

evidently got the better of their reserve by surprise.



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

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

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

of them but skulls and vagabonds.  Since you trusted

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

that you have not fallen in with more."



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

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

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

forces as a friend."



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

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

me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and when 

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

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

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

Mohican, for a warrior!"



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

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

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

question; what is our distance from the main army at

Edward?"



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

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

ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down."



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

Heyward, curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a

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

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

without its reward."



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

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

man who can speak the English tongue that is an honest

subject."



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

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

Sixtieth."



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

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

of a scarlet jacket."



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

its major?"



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

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

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



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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

gentleman!"



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

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

to dread."



The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his

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

though still expressing doubt.



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

morning for the lake shore?"



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

trusting to the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."



"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"



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

to be found in the rear."



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

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

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

Heyward, and entering the path behind the mare of the

singing master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt

to exact the maternal contribution.  After shoving aside the

bushes, and proceeding a few paces, he encountered the

females, who awaited the result of the conference with

anxiety, and not entirely without apprehension.  Behind

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

close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though

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

excite fear.  Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon

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

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

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

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

fruitless inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook

his head and returned to Heyward.



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

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

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

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

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

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

with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"



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

ride of a few more miles."



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

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

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

colonies.  They are full of outlying Iroquois, and your

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

companion."



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

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

have not been without my own suspicions, though I have

endeavored to conceal them, and affected a confidence I have

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

because I suspected him that I would follow no longer;

making him, as you see, follow me."



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

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

sign of caution.



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

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

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

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

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

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

should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect

something, and be dodging through the trees like a

frightened deer."



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

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



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

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

sort of instinctive movement.



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

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

believe the rascal has deceived me."



The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of

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

which instantly brought his two red companions to his side.

They spoke together earnestly in the Delaware language,

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

man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the

sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of

their hidden enemy.  His companions were not long in

comprehending his wishes, and laying aside their firearms,

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

themselves in the thicket, with such cautious movements,

that their steps were inaudible.



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

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

take him without breaking his paint."



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



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

bushes!"



"I will dismount."



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

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

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

Indian fashions, if he would wish to prosper in his

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

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



Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at

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

moment, however, pressed upon him a conviction of the

critical situation in which he had suffered his invaluable

trust to be involved through his own confidence.  The sun

had already disappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of

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

him that the hour the savage usually chose for his most

barbarous and remorseless acts of vengeance or hostility,

was speedily drawing near.  Stimulated by apprehension, he

left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud

conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously

enlisted himself in the party of travelers that morning.  In

passing his gentler companions Heyward uttered a few words

of encouragement, and was pleased to find that, though

fatigued with the exercise of the day, they appeared to

entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was

other than the result of accident.  Giving them reason to

believe he was merely employed in a consultation concerning

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

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

the place where the sullen runner still stood, leaning

against the tree.



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

latitude, where the twilight is never of long continuation.



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

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

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

left the encampment of Webb with the rising sun.



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

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

hear talking to the singer, that is acquainted with the

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

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



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

in his imperfect English, "Is he alone?"



"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward, to whom deception

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

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



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

raising his little wallet from the place where it had lain

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

color."



"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"



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

returned the runner, with an air that manifested his pride

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

when Munro waits for him."



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

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

blooded Scotsman that his children are left without a guide,

though Magua promised to be one?"



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

Renard will not hear him, nor feel him, in the woods."



"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him

petticoats, and bid him stay in the wigwam with the women,

for he is no longer to be trusted with the business of a

man."



"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can

find the bones of his fathers," was the answer of the

unmoved runner.



"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends?

Why should there be bitter words between us? Munro has

promised you a gift for your services when performed, and I

shall be your debtor for another.  Rest your weary limbs,

then, and open your wallet to eat.  We have a few moments to

spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women.

When the ladies are refreshed we will proceed."



"The pale faces make themselves dogs to their women,"

muttered the Indian, in his native language, "and when they

want to eat, their warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to

feed their laziness."



"What say you, Renard?"



"Le Subtil says it is good."



The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open

countenance of Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned

them quickly away, and seating himself deliberately on the

ground, he drew forth the remnant of some former repast, and

began to eat, though not without first bending his looks

slowly and cautiously around him.



"This is well," continued Heyward; "and Le Renard will have

strength and sight to find the path in the morning"; he

paused, for sounds like the snapping of a dried stick, and

the rustling of leaves, rose from the adjacent bushes, but

recollecting himself instantly, he continued, "we must be

moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our

path, and shut us out from the fortress."



The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and

though his eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was

turned aside, his nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed

even to stand more erect than usual, giving to him the

appearance of a statue that was made to represent intense

attention.



Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye,

carelessly extricated one of his feet from the stirrup,

while he passed a hand toward the bear-skin covering of his

holsters.



Every effort to detect the point most regarded by the runner

was completely frustrated by the tremulous glances of his

organs, which seemed not to rest a single instant on any

particular object, and which, at the same time, could be

hardly said to move.  While he hesitated how to proceed, Le

Subtil cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a

motion so slow and guarded, that not the slightest noise was

produced by the change.  Heyward felt it had now become

incumbent on him to act.  Throwing his leg over the saddle,

he dismounted, with a determination to advance and seize his

treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own

manhood.  In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm,

he still preserved an air of calmness and friendship.



"Le Renard Subtil does not eat," he said, using the

appellation he had found most flattering to the vanity of

the Indian.  "His corn is not well parched, and it seems

dry.  Let me examine; perhaps something may be found among

my own provisions that will help his appetite."



Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other.  He

even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying the

least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude of attention.

But when he felt the fingers of Heyward moving gently along

his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the young man,

and, uttering a piercing cry, he darted beneath it, and

plunged, at a single bound, into the opposite thicket.  At

the next instant the form of Chingachgook appeared from the

bushes, looking like a specter in its paint, and glided

across the path in swift pursuit.  Next followed the shout

of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash,

that was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's

rifle.







CHAPTER 5



..."In such a night Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;

And saw the lion's shadow ere himself."  Merchant of Venice



The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild

cries of the pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a

few moments, in inactive surprise.  Then recollecting the

importance of securing the fugitive, he dashed aside the

surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend his

aid in the chase.  Before he had, however, proceeded a

hundred yards, he met the three foresters already returning

from their unsuccessful pursuit.



"Why so soon disheartened!" he exclaimed; "the scoundrel

must be concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be

secured.  We are not safe while he goes at large."



"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?" returned the

disappointed scout; "I heard the imp brushing over the dry

leaves, like a black snake, and blinking a glimpse of him,

just over ag'in yon big pine, I pulled as it might be on the

scent; but 'twouldn't do! and yet for a reasoning aim, if

anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should call it

a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in

these matters, and one who ought to know.  Look at this

sumach; its leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit

is in the yellow blossom in the month of July!"



"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"



"No, no," returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of

this opinion, "I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but

the creature leaped the longer for it.  A rifle bullet acts

on a running animal, when it barks him, much the same as one

of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens motion, and

puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away.  But

when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there

is, commonly, a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian

or be it deer!"



"We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!"



"Is life grievous to you?" interrupted the scout.  "Yonder

red devil would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of

his comrades, before you were heated in the chase.  It was

an unthoughtful act in a man who has so often slept with the

war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece within

sound of an ambushment!  But then it was a natural

temptation! 'twas very natural!  Come, friends, let us move

our station, and in such fashion, too, as will throw the

cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent, or our scalps will be

drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee, ag'in

this hour to-morrow."



This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the

cool assurance of a man who fully comprehended, while he did

not fear to face the danger, served to remind Heyward of the

importance of the charge with which he himself had been

intrusted.  Glancing his eyes around, with a vain effort to

pierce the gloom that was thickening beneath the leafy

arches of the forest, he felt as if, cut off from human aid,

his unresisting companions would soon lie at the entire

mercy of those barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey,

only waited till the gathering darkness might render their

blows more fatally certain.  His awakened imagination,

deluded by the deceptive light, converted each waving bush,

or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and

twenty times he fancied he could distinguish the horrid

visages of his lurking foes, peering from their hiding

places, in never ceasing watchfulness of the movements of

his party.  Looking upward, he found that the thin fleecy

clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky, were

already losing their faintest tints of rose-color, while the

imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where he stood,

was to be traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded

banks.



"What is to be done!" he said, feeling the utter

helplessness of doubt in such a pressing strait; "desert me

not, for God's sake! remain to defend those I escort, and

freely name your own reward!"



His companions, who conversed apart in the language of their

tribe, heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal.  Though

their dialogue was maintained in low and cautious sounds,

but little above a whisper, Heyward, who now approached,

could easily distinguish the earnest tones of the younger

warrior from the more deliberate speeches of his seniors.

It was evident that they debated on the propriety of some

measure, that nearly concerned the welfare of the travelers.

Yielding to his powerful interest in the subject, and

impatient of a delay that seemed fraught with so much

additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to the dusky

group, with an intention of making his offers of

compensation more definite, when the white man, motioning

with his hand, as if he conceded the disputed point, turned

away, saying in a sort of soliloquy, and in the English

tongue:



"Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men to leave

such harmless things to their fate, even though it breaks up

the harboring place forever.  If you would save these tender

blossoms from the fangs of the worst of serpents, gentleman,

you have neither time to lose nor resolution to throw away!"



"How can such a wish be doubted!  Have I not already offered

--"



"Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom to

circumvent the cunning of the devils who fill these woods,"

calmly interrupted the scout, "but spare your offers of

money, which neither you may live to realize, nor I to

profit by.  These Mohicans and I will do what man's thoughts

can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet,

were never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that

without hope of any other recompense but such as God always

gives to upright dealings.  First, you must promise two

things, both in your own name and for your friends, or

without serving you we shall only injure ourselves!"



"Name them."



"The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what

will happen and the other is, to keep the place where we

shall take you, forever a secret from all mortal men."



"I will do my utmost to see both these conditions

fulfilled."



"Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as precious

as the heart's blood to a stricken deer!"



Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the

scout, through the increasing shadows of the evening, and he

moved in his footsteps, swiftly, toward the place where he

had left the remainder of the party.  When they rejoined the

expecting and anxious females, he briefly acquainted them

with the conditions of their new guide, and with the

necessity that existed for their hushing every apprehension

in instant and serious exertions.  Although his alarming

communication was not received without much secret terror by

the listeners, his earnest and impressive manner, aided

perhaps by the nature of the danger, succeeded in bracing

their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for and unusual trial.

Silently, and without a moment's delay, they permitted him

to assist them from their saddles, and when they descended

quickly to the water's edge, where the scout had collected

the rest of the party, more by the agency of expressive

gestures than by any use of words.



"What to do with these dumb creatures!" muttered the white

man, on whom the sole control of their future movements

appeared to devolve; "it would be time lost to cut their

throats, and cast them into the river; and to leave them

here would be to tell the Mingoes that they have not far to

seek to find their owners!"



"Then give them their bridles, and let them range the

woods," Heyward ventured to suggest.



"No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and make them

believe they must equal a horse's speed to run down their

chase.  Ay, ay, that will blind their fireballs of eyes!

Chingach--Hist! what stirs the bush?"



"The colt."



"That colt, at least, must die," muttered the scout,

grasping at the mane of the nimble beast, which easily

eluded his hand; "Uncas, your arrows!"



"Hold!" exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned animal,

aloud, without regard to the whispering tones used by the

others; "spare the foal of Miriam! it is the comely

offspring of a faithful dam, and would willingly injure

naught."



"When men struggle for the single life God has given them,"

said the scout, sternly, "even their own kind seem no more

than the beasts of the wood.  If you speak again, I shall

leave you to the mercy of the Maquas!  Draw to your arrow's

head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows."



The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were

still audible, when the wounded foal, first rearing on its

hinder legs, plunged forward to its knees.  It was met by

Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its throat quicker

than thought, and then precipitating the motions of the

struggling victim, he dashed into the river, down whose

stream it glided away, gasping audibly for breath with its

ebbing life.  This deed of apparent cruelty, but of real

necessity, fell upon the spirits of the travelers like a

terrific warning of the peril in which they stood,

heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution of

the actors in the scene.  The sisters shuddered and clung

closer to each other, while Heyward instinctively laid his

hand on one of the pistols he had just drawn from their

holsters, as he placed himself between his charge and those

dense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil

before the bosom of the forest.



The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the

bridles, they led the frightened and reluctant horses into

the bed of the river.



At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were

soon concealed by the projection of the bank, under the brow

of which they moved, in a direction opposite to the course

of the waters.  In the meantime, the scout drew a canoe of

bark from its place of concealment beneath some low bushes,

whose branches were waving with the eddies of the current,

into which he silently motioned for the females to enter.

They complied without hesitation, though many a fearful and

anxious glance was thrown behind them, toward the thickening

gloom, which now lay like a dark barrier along the margin of

the stream.



So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without

regarding the element, directed Heyward to support one side

of the frail vessel, and posting himself at the other, they

bore it up against the stream, followed by the dejected

owner of the dead foal.  In this manner they proceeded, for

many rods, in a silence that was only interrupted by the

rippling of the water, as its eddies played around them, or

the low dash made by their own cautious footsteps.  Heyward

yielded the guidance of the canoe implicitly to the scout,

who approached or receded from the shore, to avoid the

fragments of rocks, or deeper parts of the river, with a

readiness that showed his knowledge of the route they held.

Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathing

stillness, that the dull but increasing roar of the

waterfall only served to render more impressive, he would

listen with painful intenseness, to catch any sounds that

might arise from the slumbering forest.  When assured that

all was still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his

practiced senses, any sign of his approaching foes, he would

deliberately resume his slow and guarded progress.  At

length they reached a point in the river where the roving

eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of black objects,

collected at a spot where the high bank threw a deeper

shadow than usual on the dark waters.  Hesitating to

advance, he pointed out the place to the attention of his

companion.



"Ay," returned the composed scout, "the Indians have hid the

beasts with the judgment of natives!  Water leaves no trail,

and an owl's eyes would be blinded by the darkness of such a

hole."



The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation

was held between the scout and his new comrades, during

which, they, whose fates depended on the faith and ingenuity

of these unknown foresters, had a little leisure to observe

their situation more minutely.



The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one

of which impended above the spot where the canoe rested.  As

these, again, were surmounted by tall trees, which appeared

to totter on the brows of the precipice, it gave the stream

the appearance of running through a deep and narrow dell.

All beneath the fantastic limbs and ragged tree tops, which

were, here and there, dimly painted against the starry

zenith, lay alike in shadowed obscurity.  Behind them, the

curvature of the banks soon bounded the view by the same

dark and wooded outline; but in front, and apparently at no

great distance, the water seemed piled against the heavens,

whence it tumbled into caverns, out of which issued those

sullen sounds that had loaded the evening atmosphere.  It

seemed, in truth, to be a spot devoted to seclusion, and the

sisters imbibed a soothing impression of security, as they

gazed upon its romantic though not unappalling beauties.  A

general movement among their conductors, however, soon

recalled them from a contemplation of the wild charms that

night had assisted to lend the place to a painful sense of

their real peril.



The horses had been secured to some scattering shrubs that

grew in the fissures of the rocks, where, standing in the

water, they were left to pass the night.  The scout directed

Heyward and his disconsolate fellow travelers to seat

themselves in the forward end of the canoe, and took

possession of the other himself, as erect and steady as if

he floated in a vessel of much firmer materials.  The

Indians warily retraced their steps toward the place they

had left, when the scout, placing his pole against a rock,

by a powerful shove, sent his frail bark directly into the

turbulent stream.  For many minutes the struggle between the

light bubble in which they floated and the swift current was

severe and doubtful.  Forbidden to stir even a hand, and

almost afraid to breath, lest they should expose the frail

fabric to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched the

glancing waters in feverish suspense.  Twenty times they

thought the whirling eddies were sweeping them to

destruction, when the masterhand of their pilot would bring

the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid.  A long, a

vigorous, and, as it appeared to the females, a desperate

effort, closed the struggle.  Just as Alice veiled her eyes

in horror, under the impression that they were about to be

swept within the vortex at the foot of the cataract, the

canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, that

lay on a level with the water.



"Where are we, and what is next to be done!" demanded

Heyward, perceiving that the exertions of the scout had

ceased.



"You are at the foot of Glenn's," returned the other,

speaking aloud, without fear of consequences within the roar

of the cataract; "and the next thing is to make a steady

landing, lest the canoe upset, and you should go down again

the hard road we have traveled faster than you came up; 'tis

a hard rift to stem, when the river is a little swelled; and

five is an unnatural number to keep dry, in a hurry-skurry,

with a little birchen bark and gum.  There, go you all on

the rock, and I will bring up the Mohicans with the venison.

A man had better sleep without his scalp, than famish in the

midst of plenty."



His passengers gladly complied with these directions.  As

the last foot touched the rock, the canoe whirled from its

station, when the tall form of the scout was seen, for an

instant, gliding above the waters, before it disappeared in

the impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of the

river.  Left by their guide, the travelers remained a few

minutes in helpless ignorance, afraid even to move along the

broken rocks, lest a false step should precipitate them down

some one of the many deep and roaring caverns, into which

the water seemed to tumble, on every side of them.  Their

suspense, however, was soon relieved; for, aided by the

skill of the natives, the canoe shot back into the eddy, and

floated again at the side of the low rock, before they

thought the scout had even time to rejoin his companions.



"We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned," cried

Heyward cheerfully, "and may set Montcalm and his allies at

defiance.  How, now, my vigilant sentinel, can see anything

of those you call the Iroquois, on the main land!"



"I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who

speaks a foreign tongue, is accounted an enemy, though he

may pretend to serve the king!  If Webb wants faith and

honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of the

Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and

Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature

they belong, among the French!"



"We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend!  I

have heard that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet,

and are content to be called women!"



"Aye, shame on the Hollanders and Iroquois, who circumvented

them by their deviltries, into such a treaty!  But I have

known them for twenty years, and I call him liar that says

cowardly blood runs in the veins of a Delaware.  You have

driven their tribes from the seashore, and would now believe

what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night upon an

easy pillow.  No, no; to me, every Indian who speaks a

foreign tongue is an Iroquois, whether the castle* of his

tribe be in Canada, or be in York."



* The principal villages of the Indians are still

called "castles" by the whites of New York.  "Oneida castle"

is no more than a scattered hamlet; but the name is in

general use.



Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout

to the cause of his friends the Delawares, or Mohicans, for

they were branches of the same numerous people, was likely

to prolong a useless discussion, changed the subject.



"Treaty or no treaty, I know full well that your two

companions are brave and cautious warriors! have they heard

or seen anything of our enemies!"



"An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,"

returned the scout, ascending the rock, and throwing the

deer carelessly down.  "I trust to other signs than such as

come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the trail of the

Mingoes."



"Do your ears tell you that they have traced our retreat?"



"I should be sorry to think they had, though this is a spot

that stout courage might hold for a smart scrimmage.  I will

not deny, however, but the horses cowered when I passed

them, as though they scented the wolves; and a wolf is a

beast that is apt to hover about an Indian ambushment,

craving the offals of the deer the savages kill."



"You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their

visit to the dead colt? Ha! what noise is that?"



"Poor Miriam!" murmured the stranger; "thy foal was

foreordained to become a prey to ravenous beasts!"  Then,

suddenly lifting up his voice, amid the eternal din of the

waters, he sang aloud: "First born of Egypt, smite did he,

Of mankind, and of beast also: O, Egypt! wonders sent 'midst

thee, On Pharaoh and his servants too!"



"The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its

owner," said the scout; "but it's a good sign to see a man

account upon his dumb friends.  He has the religion of the

matter, in believing what is to happen will happen; and with

such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits to the

rationality of killing a four-footed beast to save the lives

of human men.  It may be as you say," he continued,

reverting to the purport of Heyward's last remark; "and the

greater the reason why we should cut our steaks, and let the

carcass drive down the stream, or we shall have the pack

howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we

swallow.  Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as

a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough

at understanding the reason of a wolf's howl."



The scout, while making his remarks, was busied in

collecting certain necessary implements; as he concluded, he

moved silently by the group of travelers, accompanied by the

Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his intentions with

instinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared in

succession, seeming to vanish against the dark face of a

perpendicular rock that rose to the height of a few yards,

within as many feet of the water's edge.







CHAPTER 6



"Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide; He wales a

portion with judicious care; And 'Let us worship God', he

says, with solemn air."--Burns



Heyward and his female companions witnessed this mysterious

movement with secret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of

the white man had hitherto been above reproach, his rude

equipments, blunt address, and strong antipathies, together

with the character of his silent associates, were all causes

for exciting distrust in minds that had been so recently

alarmed by Indian treachery.



The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents.  He

seated himself on a projection of the rocks, whence he gave

no other signs of consciousness than by the struggles of his

spirit, as manifested in frequent and heavy sighs.

Smothered voices were next heard, as though men called to

each other in the bowels of the earth, when a sudden light

flashed upon those without, and laid bare the much-prized

secret of the place.



At the further extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the

rock, whose length appeared much extended by the perspective

and the nature of the light by which it was seen, was seated

the scout, holding a blazing knot of pine.  The strong glare

of the fire fell full upon his sturdy, weather-beaten

countenance and forest attire, lending an air of romantic

wildness to the aspect of an individual, who, seen by the

sober light of day, would have exhibited the peculiarities

of a man remarkable for the strangeness of his dress, the

iron-like inflexibility of his frame, and the singular

compound of quick, vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite

simplicity, that by turns usurped the possession of his

muscular features.  At a little distance in advance stood

Uncas, his whole person thrown powerfully into view.  The

travelers anxiously regarded the upright, flexible figure of

the young Mohican, graceful and unrestrained in the

attitudes and movements of nature.  Though his person was

more than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-

shirt, like that of the white man, there was no concealment

to his dark, glancing, fearless eye, alike terrible and

calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty features, pure

in their native red; or to the dignified elevation of his

receding forehead, together with all the finest proportions

of a noble head, bared to the generous scalping tuft.  It

was the first opportunity possessed by Duncan and his

companions to view the marked lineaments of either of their

Indian attendants, and each individual of the party felt

relieved from a burden of doubt, as the proud and

determined, though wild expression of the features of the

young warrior forced itself on their notice.  They felt it

might be a being partially benighted in the vale of

ignorance, but it could not be one who would willingly

devote his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton

treachery.  The ingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and

proud carriage, as she would have looked upon some precious

relic of the Grecian chisel, to which life had been imparted

by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward, though

accustomed to see the perfection of form which abounds among

the uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his admiration at

such an unblemished specimen of the noblest proportions of

man.



"I could sleep in peace," whispered Alice, in reply, "with

such a fearless and generous-looking youth for my sentinel.

Surely, Duncan, those cruel murders, those terrific scenes

of torture, of which we read and hear so much, are never

acted in the presence of such as he!"



"This certainly is a rare and brilliant instance of those

natural qualities in which these peculiar people are said to

excel," he answered.  "I agree with you, Alice, in thinking

that such a front and eye were formed rather to intimidate

than to deceive; but let us not practice a deception upon

ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition of what we

esteem virtue than according to the fashion of the savage.

As bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon

among Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the

Indians; though, for the honor of our common nature, neither

are incapable of producing them.  Let us then hope that this

Mohican may not disappoint our wishes, but prove what his

looks assert him to be, a brave and constant friend."



"Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should," said

Cora; "who that looks at this creature of nature, remembers

the shade of his skin?"



A short and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this

remark, which was interrupted by the scout calling to them,

aloud, to enter.



"This fire begins to show too bright a flame," he continued,

as they complied, "and might light the Mingoes to our

undoing.  Uncas, drop the blanket, and show the knaves its

dark side.  This is not such a supper as a major of the

Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I've known stout

detachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and

without a relish, too*.  Here, you see, we have plenty of

salt, and can make a quick broil.  There's fresh sassafras

boughs for the ladies to sit on, which may not be as proud

as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which sends up a sweeter

flavor, than the skin of any hog can do, be it of Guinea, or

be it of any other land.  Come, friend, don't be mournful

for the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much

hardship.  Its death will save the creature many a sore back

and weary foot!"



* In vulgar parlance the condiments of a repast are

called by the American "a relish," substituting the thing

for its effect.  These provincial terms are frequently put

in the mouths of the speakers, according to their several

conditions in life.  Most of them are of local use, and

others quite peculiar to the particular class of men to

which the character belongs.  In the present instance, the

scout uses the word with immediate reference to the "salt,"

with which his own party was so fortunate as to be provided.



Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of

Hawkeye ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the

rumbling of distant thunder.



"Are we quite safe in this cavern?" demanded Heyward.  "Is

there no danger of surprise?  A single armed man, at its

entrance, would hold us at his mercy."



A spectral-looking figure stalked from out of the darkness

behind the scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held it

toward the further extremity of their place of retreat.

Alice uttered a faint shriek, and even Cora rose to her

feet, as this appalling object moved into the light; but a

single word from Heyward calmed them, with the assurance it

was only their attendant, Chingachgook, who, lifting another

blanket, discovered that the cavern had two outlets.  Then,

holding the brand, he crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the

rocks which ran at right angles with the passage they were

in, but which, unlike that, was open to the heavens, and

entered another cave, answering to the description of the

first, in every essential particular.



"Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often

caught in a barrow with one hole," said Hawkeye, laughing;

"you can easily see the cunning of the place--the rock is

black limestone, which everybody knows is soft; it makes no

uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood is scarce;

well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to

say was, in its time, as regular and as handsome a sheet of

water as any along the Hudson.  But old age is a great

injury to good looks, as these sweet young ladies have yet

to l'arn!  The place is sadly changed!  These rocks are full

of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at

othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for

itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet,

breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have

neither shape nor consistency."



"In what part of them are we?" asked Heyward.



"Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first placed them

at, but where, it seems, they were too rebellious to stay.

The rock proved softer on each side of us, and so they left

the center of the river bare and dry, first working out

these two little holes for us to hide in."



"We are then on an island!"



"Ay! there are the falls on two sides of us, and the river

above and below.  If you had daylight, it would be worth the

trouble to step up on the height of this rock, and look at

the perversity of the water.  It falls by no rule at all;

sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles; there it skips;

here it shoots; in one place 'tis white as snow, and in

another 'tis green as grass; hereabouts, it pitches into

deep hollows, that rumble and crush the 'arth; and

thereaways, it ripples and sings like a brook, fashioning

whirlpools and gullies in the old stone, as if 'twas no

harder than trodden clay.  The whole design of the river

seems disconcerted.  First it runs smoothly, as if meaning

to go down the descent as things were ordered; then it

angles about and faces the shores; nor are there places

wanting where it looks backward, as if unwilling to leave

the wilderness, to mingle with the salt.  Ay, lady, the fine

cobweb-looking cloth you wear at your throat is coarse, and

like a fishnet, to little spots I can show you, where the

river fabricates all sorts of images, as if having broke

loose from order, it would try its hand at everything.  And

yet what does it amount to!  After the water has been

suffered so to have its will, for a time, like a headstrong

man, it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a

few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily

toward the sea, as was foreordained from the first

foundation of the 'arth!"



While his auditors received a cheering assurance of the

security of their place of concealment from this untutored

description of Glenn's,* they were much inclined to judge

differently from Hawkeye, of its wild beauties.  But they

were not in a situation to suffer their thoughts to dwell on

the charms of natural objects; and, as the scout had not

found it necessary to cease his culinary labors while he

spoke, unless to point out, with a broken fork, the

direction of some particularly obnoxious point in the

rebellious stream, they now suffered their attention to be

drawn to the necessary though more vulgar consideration of

their supper.



* Glenn's Falls are on the Hudson, some forty or fifty

miles above the head of tide, or that place where the river

becomes navigable for sloops.  The description of this

picturesque and remarkable little cataract, as given by the

scout, is sufficiently correct, though the application of

the water to uses of civilized life has materially injured

its beauties.  The rocky island and the two caverns are

known to every traveler, since the former sustains the pier

of a bridge, which is now thrown across the river,

immediately above the fall.  In explanation of the taste of

Hawkeye, it should be remembered that men always prize that

most which is least enjoyed.  Thus, in a new country, the

woods and other objects, which in an old country would be

maintained at great cost, are got rid of, simply with a view

of "improving" as it is called.



The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition of a few

delicacies that Heyward had the precaution to bring with him

when they left their horses, was exceedingly refreshing to

the weary party.  Uncas acted as attendant to the females,

performing all the little offices within his power, with a

mixture of dignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse

Heyward, who well knew that it was an utter innovation on

the Indian customs, which forbid their warriors to descend

to any menial employment, especially in favor of their

women.  As the rights of hospitality were, however,

considered sacred among them, this little departure from the

dignity of manhood excited no audible comment.  Had there

been one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close

observer, he might have fancied that the services of the

young chief were not entirely impartial.  That while he

tendered to Alice the gourd of sweet water, and the venison

in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of the

pepperidge, with sufficient courtesy, in performing the same

offices to her sister, his dark eye lingered on her rich,

speaking countenance.  Once or twice he was compelled to

speak, to command her attention of those he served.  In such

cases he made use of English, broken and imperfect, but

sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered so mild and

musical, by his deep, guttural voice, that it never failed

to cause both ladies to look up in admiration and

astonishment.  In the course of these civilities, a few

sentences were exchanged, that served to establish the

appearance of an amicable intercourse between the parties.



In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingcachgook remained

immovable.  He had seated himself more within the circle of

light, where the frequent, uneasy glances of his guests were

better enabled to separate the natural expression of his

face from the artificial terrors of the war paint.  They

found a strong resemblance between father and son, with the

difference that might be expected from age and hardships.

The fierceness of his countenance now seemed to slumber, and

in its place was to be seen the quiet, vacant composure

which distinguishes an Indian warrior, when his faculties

are not required for any of the greater purposes of his

existence.  It was, however, easy to be seen, by the

occasional gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that

it was only necessary to arouse his passions, in order to

give full effect to the terrific device which he had adopted

to intimidate his enemies.  On the other hand, the quick,

roving eye of the scout seldom rested.  He ate and drank

with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, but

his vigilance seemed never to desert him.  Twenty times the

gourd or the venison was suspended before his lips, while

his head was turned aside, as though he listened to some

distant and distrusted sounds--a movement that never

failed to recall his guests from regarding the novelties of

their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasons

that had driven them to seek it.  As these frequent pauses

were never followed by any remark, the momentary uneasiness

they created quickly passed away, and for a time was

forgotten.



"Come, friend," said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg from beneath

a cover of leaves, toward the close of the repast, and

addressing the stranger who sat at his elbow, doing great

justice to his culinary skill, "try a little spruce; 'twill

wash away all thoughts of the colt, and quicken the life in

your bosom.  I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a

little horse-flesh may leave no heart-burnings atween us.

How do you name yourself?"



"Gamut--David Gamut," returned the singing master,

preparing to wash down his sorrows in a powerful draught of

the woodsman's high-flavored and well-laced compound.



"A very good name, and, I dare say, handed down from honest

forefathers.  I'm an admirator of names, though the

Christian fashions fall far below savage customs in this

particular.  The biggest coward I ever knew as called Lyon;

and his wife, Patience, would scold you out of hearing in

less time than a hunted deer would run a rod.  With an

Indian 'tis a matter of conscience; what he calls himself,

he generally is--not that Chingachgook, which signifies

Big Sarpent, is really a snake, big or little; but that he

understands the windings and turnings of human natur', and

is silent, and strikes his enemies when they least expect

him.  What may be your calling?"



"I am an unworthy instructor in the art of psalmody."



"Anan!"



"I teach singing to the youths of the Connecticut levy."



"You might be better employed.  The young hounds go laughing

and singing too much already through the woods, when they

ought not to breathe louder than a fox in his cover.  Can

you use the smoothbore, or handle the rifle?"



"Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle with

murderous implements!"



"Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down the

watercourses and mountains of the wilderness on paper, in

order that they who follow may find places by their given

names?"



"I practice no such employment."



"You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem

short! you journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the

general."



"Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which

is instruction in sacred music!"



"'Tis a strange calling!" muttered Hawkeye, with an inward

laugh, "to go through life, like a catbird, mocking all the

ups and downs that may happen to come out of other men's

throats.  Well, friend, I suppose it is your gift, and

mustn't be denied any more than if 'twas shooting, or some

other better inclination.  Let us hear what you can do in

that way; 'twill be a friendly manner of saying good-night,

for 'tis time that these ladies should be getting strength

for a hard and a long push, in the pride of the morning,

afore the Maquas are stirring."



"With joyful pleasure do I consent', said David, adjusting

his iron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his beloved little

volume, which he immediately tendered to Alice.  "What can

be more fitting and consolatory, than to offer up evening

praise, after a day of such exceeding jeopardy!"



Alice smiled; but, regarding Heyward, she blushed and

hesitated.



"Indulge yourself," he whispered; "ought not the suggestion

of the worthy namesake of the Psalmist to have its weight at

such a moment?"



Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious

inclinations, and her keen relish for gentle sounds, had

before so strongly urged.  The book was open at a hymn not

ill adapted to their situation, and in which the poet, no

longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired King of

Israel, had discovered some chastened and respectable

powers.  Cora betrayed a disposition to support her sister,

and the sacred song proceeded, after the indispensable

preliminaries of the pitchpipe, and the tune had been duly

attended to by the methodical David.



The air was solemn and slow.  At times it rose to the

fullest compass of the rich voices of the females, who hung

over their little book in holy excitement, and again it sank

so low, that the rushing of the waters ran through their

melody, like a hollow accompaniment.  The natural taste and

true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit

the confined cavern, every crevice and cranny of which was

filled with the thrilling notes of their flexible voices.

The Indians riveted their eyes on the rocks, and listened

with an attention that seemed to turn them into stone.  But

the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an

expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his

rigid features to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he

felt his iron nature subdued, while his recollection was

carried back to boyhood, when his ears had been accustomed

to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the settlements of

the colony.  His roving eyes began to moisten, and before

the hymn was ended scalding tears rolled out of fountains

that had long seemed dry, and followed each other down those

cheeks, that had oftener felt the storms of heaven than any

testimonials of weakness.  The singers were dwelling on one

of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours with such

greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose

them, when a cry, that seemed neither human nor earthly,

rose in the outward air, penetrating not only the recesses

of the cavern, but to the inmost hearts of all who heard it.

It was followed by a stillness apparently as deep as if the

waters had been checked in their furious progress, at such a

horrid and unusual interruption.



"What is it?" murmured Alice, after a few moments of

terrible suspense.



"What is it?" repeated Hewyard aloud.



Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply.  They

listened, as if expecting the sound would be repeated, with

a manner that expressed their own astonishment.  At length

they spoke together, earnestly, in the Delaware language,

when Uncas, passing by the inner and most concealed

aperture, cautiously left the cavern.  When he had gone, the

scout first spoke in English.



"What it is, or what it is not, none here can tell, though

two of us have ranged the woods for more than thirty years.

I did believe there was no cry that Indian or beast could

make, that my ears had not heard; but this has proved that I

was only a vain and conceited mortal."



"Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when they

wish to intimidate their enemies?" asked Cora who stood

drawing her veil about her person, with a calmness to which

her agitated sister was a stranger.



"No, no; this was bad, and shocking, and had a sort of

unhuman sound; but when you once hear the war-whoop, you

will never mistake it for anything else.  Well, Uncas!"

speaking in Delaware to the young chief as he re-entered,

"what see you? do our lights shine through the blankets?"



The answer was short, and apparently decided, being given in

the same tongue.



"There is nothing to be seen without," continued Hawkeye,

shaking his head in discontent; "and our hiding-place is

still in darkness.  Pass into the other cave, you that need

it, and seek for sleep; we must be afoot long before the

sun, and make the most of our time to get to Edward, while

the Mingoes are taking their morning nap."



Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness that

taught the more timid Alice the necessity of obedience.

Before leaving the place, however, she whispered a request

to Duncan, that he would follow.  Uncas raised the blanket

for their passage, and as the sisters turned to thank him

for this act of attention, they saw the scout seated again

before the dying embers, with his face resting on his hands,

in a manner which showed how deeply he brooded on the

unaccountable interruption which had broken up their evening

devotions.



Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim

light through the narrow vista of their new apartment.

Placing it in a favorable position, he joined the females,

who now found themselves alone with him for the first time

since they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort Edward.



"Leave us not, Duncan," said Alice: "we cannot sleep in such

a place as this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our

ears."



"First let us examine into the security of your fortress,"

he answered, "and then we will speak of rest."



He approached the further end of the cavern, to an outlet,

which, like the others, was concealed by blankets; and

removing the thick screen, breathed the fresh and reviving

air from the cataract.  One arm of the river flowed through

a deep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn in the

soft rock, directly beneath his feet, forming an effectual

defense, as he believed, against any danger from that

quarter; the water, a few rods above them, plunging,

glancing, and sweeping along in its most violent and broken

manner.



"Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this side," he

continued, pointing down the perpendicular declivity into

the dark current before he dropped the blanket; "and as you

know that good men and true are on guard in front I see no

reason why the advice of our honest host should be

disregarded.  I am certain Cora will join me in saying that

sleep is necessary to you both."



"Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion though she

cannot put it in practice," returned the elder sister, who

had placed herself by the side of Alice, on a couch of

sassafras; "there would be other causes to chase away sleep,

though we had been spared the shock of this mysterious

noise.  Ask yourself, Heyward, can daughters forget the

anxiety a father must endure, whose children lodge he knows

not where or how, in such a wilderness, and in the midst of

so many perils?"



"He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the chances of

the woods."



"He is a father, and cannot deny his nature."



"How kind has he ever been to all my follies, how tender and

indulgent to all my wishes!" sobbed Alice.  "We have been

selfish, sister, in urging our visit at such hazard."



"I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of

much embarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that

however others might neglect him in his strait his children

at least were faithful."



"When he heard of your arrival at Edward," said Heyward,

kindly, "there was a powerful struggle in his bosom between

fear and love; though the latter, heightened, if possible,

by so long a separation, quickly prevailed.  'It is the

spirit of my noble- minded Cora that leads them, Duncan', he

said, 'and I will not balk it.  Would to God, that he who

holds the honor of our royal master in his guardianship,

would show but half her firmness'!"



"And did he not speak of me, Heyward?" demanded Alice, with

jealous affection; "surely, he forgot not altogether his

little Elsie?"



"That were impossible," returned the young man; "he called

you by a thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume

to use, but to the justice of which, I can warmly testify.

Once, indeed, he said--"



Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on

those of Alice, who had turned toward him with the eagerness

of filial affection, to catch his words, the same strong,

horrid cry, as before, filled the air, and rendered him

mute.  A long, breathless silence succeeded, during which

each looked at the others in fearful expectation of hearing

the sound repeated.  At length, the blanket was slowly

raised, and the scout stood in the aperture with a

countenance whose firmness evidently began to give way

before a mystery that seemed to threaten some danger,

against which all his cunning and experience might prove of

no avail.







CHAPTER 7



"They do not sleep, On yonder cliffs, a grizzly band, I see

them sit."  Gray



"'Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for our good

to lie hid any longer," said Hawkeye "when such sounds are

raised in the forest.  These gentle ones may keep close, but

the Mohicans and I will watch upon the rock, where I suppose

a major of the Sixtieth would wish to keep us company."



"Is, then, our danger so pressing?" asked Cora.



"He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man's

information, alone knows our danger.  I should think myself

wicked, unto rebellion against His will, was I to burrow

with such warnings in the air!  Even the weak soul who

passes his days in singing is stirred by the cry, and, as he

says, is 'ready to go forth to the battle' If 'twere only a

battle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily

managed; but I have heard that when such shrieks are atween

heaven and 'arth, it betokens another sort of warfare!"



"If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to

such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have but little

occasion to be alarmed," continued the undisturbed Cora,

"are you certain that our enemies have not invented some new

and ingenious method to strike us with terror, that their

conquest may become more easy?"



"Lady," returned the scout, solemnly, "I have listened to

all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will

listen whose life and death depend on the quickness of his

ears.  There is no whine of the panther, no whistle of the

catbird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that can

cheat me!  I have heard the forest moan like mortal men in

their affliction; often, and again, have I listened to the

wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees;

and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air like the

snapping of blazing brush as it spitted forth sparks and

forked flames; but never have I thought that I heard more

than the pleasure of him who sported with the things of his

hand.  But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white man

without a cross, can explain the cry just heard.  We,

therefore, believe it a sign given for our good."



"It is extraordinary!" said Heyward, taking his pistols from

the place where he had laid them on entering; "be it a sign

of peach or a signal of war, it must be looked to.  Lead the

way, my friend; I follow."



On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party

instantly experienced a grateful renovation of spirits, by

exchanging the pent air of the hiding-place for the cool and

invigorating atmosphere which played around the whirlpools

and pitches of the cataract.  A heavy evening breeze swept

along the surface of the river, and seemed to drive the roar

of the falls into the recesses of their own cavern, whence

it issued heavily and constant, like thunder rumbling beyond

the distant hills.  The moon had risen, and its light was

already glancing here and there on the waters above them;

but the extremity of the rock where they stood still lay in

shadow.  With the exception of the sounds produced by the

rushing waters, and an occasional breathing of the air, as

it murmured past them in fitful currents, the scene was as

still as night and solitude could make it.  In vain were the

eyes of each individual bent along the opposite shores, in

quest of some signs of life, that might explain the nature

of the interruption they had heard.  Their anxious and eager

looks were baffled by the deceptive light, or rested only on

naked rocks, and straight and immovable trees.



"Here is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet of a

lovely evening," whispered Duncan; "how much should we prize

such a scene, and all this breathing solitude, at any other

moment, Cora!  Fancy yourselves in security, and what now,

perhaps, increases your terror, may be made conducive to

enjoyment--"



"Listen!" interrupted Alice.



The caution was unnecessary.  One more the same sound arose,

as if from the bed of the river, and having broken out of

the narrow bounds of the cliffs, was heard undulating

through the forest, in distant and dying cadences.



"Can any here give a name to such a cry?" demanded Hawkeye,

when the last echo was lost in the woods; "if so, let him

speak; for myself, I judge it not to belong to 'arth!"



"Here, then, is one who can undeceive you," said Duncan; "I

know the sound full well, for often have I heard it on the

field of battle, and in situations which are frequent in a

soldier's life.  'Tis the horrid shriek that a horse will

give in his agony; oftener drawn from him in pain, though

sometimes in terror.  My charger is either a prey to the

beasts of the forest, or he sees his danger, without the

power to avoid it.  The sound might deceive me in the

cavern, but in the open air I know it too well to be wrong."



The scout and his companions listened to this simple

explanation with the interest of men who imbibe new ideas,

at the same time that they get rid of old ones, which had

proved disagreeable inmates.  The two latter uttered their

usual expressive exclamation, "hugh!" as the truth first

glanced upon their minds, while the former, after a short,

musing pause, took upon himself to reply.



"I cannot deny your words," he said, "for I am little

skilled in horses, though born where they abound.  The

wolves must be hovering above their heads on the bank, and

the timorsome creatures are calling on man for help, in the

best manner they are able.  Uncas"--he spoke in Delaware -

- "Uncas, drop down in the canoe, and whirl a brand among

the pack; or fear may do what the wolves can't get at to

perform, and leave us without horses in the morning, when we

shall have so much need to journey swiftly!"



The young native had already descended to the water to

comply, when a long howl was raised on the edge of the

river, and was borne swiftly off into the depths of the

forest, as though the beasts, of their own accord, were

abandoning their prey in sudden terror.  Uncas, with

instinctive quickness, receded, and the three foresters held

another of their low, earnest conferences.



"We have been like hunters who have lost the points of the

heavens, and from whom the sun has been hid for days," said

Hawkeye, turning away from his companions; "now we begin

again to know the signs of our course, and the paths are

cleared from briers!  Seat yourselves in the shade which the

moon throws from yonder beech--'tis thicker than that of

the pines--and let us wait for that which the Lord may

choose to send next.  Let all your conversation be in

whispers; though it would be better, and, perhaps, in the

end, wiser, if each one held discourse with his own

thoughts, for a time."



The manner of the scout was seriously impressive, though no

longer distinguished by any signs of unmanly apprehension.

It was evident that his momentary weakness had vanished with

the explanation of a mystery which his own experience had

not served to fathom; and though he now felt all the

realities of their actual condition, that he was prepared to

meet them with the energy of his hardy nature.  This feeling

seemed also common to the natives, who placed themselves in

positions which commanded a full view of both shores, while

their own persons were effectually concealed from

observation.  In such circumstances, common prudence

dictated that Heyward and his companions should imitate a

caution that proceeded from so intelligent a source.  The

young man drew a pile of the sassafras from the cave, and

placing it in the chasm which separated the two caverns, it

was occupied by the sisters, who were thus protected by the

rocks from any missiles, while their anxiety was relieved by

the assurance that no danger could approach without a

warning.  Heyward himself was posted at hand, so near that

he might communicate with his companions without raising his

voice to a dangerous elevation; while David, in imitation of

the woodsmen, bestowed his person in such a manner among the

fissures of the rocks, that his ungainly limbs were no

longer offensive to the eye.



In this manner hours passed without further interruption.

The moon reached the zenith, and shed its mild light

perpendicularly on the lovely sight of the sisters

slumbering peacefully in each other's arms.  Duncan cast the

wide shawl of Cora before a spectacle he so much loved to

contemplate, and then suffered his own head to seek a pillow

on the rock.  David began to utter sounds that would have

shocked his delicate organs in more wakeful moments; in

short, all but Hawkeye and the Mohicans lost every idea of

consciousness, in uncontrollable drowsiness.  But the

watchfulness of these vigilant protectors neither tired nor

slumbered.  Immovable as that rock, of which each appeared

to form a part, they lay, with their eyes roving, without

intermission, along the dark margin of trees, that bounded

the adjacent shores of the narrow stream.  Not a sound

escaped them; the most subtle examination could not have

told they breathed.  It was evident that this excess of

caution proceeded from an experience that no subtlety on the

part of their enemies could deceive.  It was, however,

continued without any apparent consequences, until the moon

had set, and a pale streak above the treetops, at the bend

of the river a little below, announced the approach of day.



Then, for the first time, Hawkeye was seen to stir.  He

crawled along the rock and shook Duncan from his heavy

slumbers.



"Now is the time to journey," he whispered; "awake the

gentle ones, and be ready to get into the canoe when I bring

it to the landing-place."



"Have you had a quiet night?" said Heyward; "for myself, I

believe sleep has got the better of my vigilance."



"All is yet still as midnight.  Be silent, but be quick."



By this time Duncan was thoroughly awake, and he immediately

lifted the shawl from the sleeping females.  The motion

caused Cora to raise her hand as if to repulse him, while

Alice murmured, in her soft, gentle voice, "No, no, dear

father, we were not deserted; Duncan was with us!"



"Yes, sweet innocence," whispered the youth; "Duncan is

here, and while life continues or danger remains, he will

never quit thee.  Cora! Alice! awake!  The hour has come to

move!"



A loud shriek from the younger of the sisters, and the form

of the other standing upright before him, in bewildered

horror, was the unexpected answer he received.



While the words were still on the lips of Heyward, there had

arisen such a tumult of yells and cries as served to drive

the swift currents of his own blood back from its bounding

course into the fountains of his heart.  It seemed, for near

a minute, as if the demons of hell had possessed themselves

of the air about them, and were venting their savage humors

in barbarous sounds.  The cries came from no particular

direction, though it was evident they filled the woods, and,

as the appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of

the falls, the rocks, the bed of the river, and the upper

air.  David raised his tall person in the midst of the

infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming:



"Whence comes this discord!  Has hell broke loose, that man

should utter sounds like these!"



The bright flashes and the quick reports of a dozen rifles,

from the opposite banks of the stream, followed this

incautious exposure of his person, and left the unfortunate

singing master senseless on that rock where he had been so

long slumbering.  The Mohicans boldly sent back the

intimidating yell of their enemies, who raised a shout of

savage triumph at the fall of Gamut.  The flash of rifles

was then quick and close between them, but either party was

too well skilled to leave even a limb exposed to the hostile

aim.  Duncan listened with intense anxiety for the strokes

of the paddle, believing that flight was now their only

refuge.  The river glanced by with its ordinary velocity,

but the canoe was nowhere to be seen on its dark waters.  He

had just fancied they were cruelly deserted by their scout,

as a stream of flame issued from the rock beneath them, and

a fierce yell, blended with a shriek of agony, announced

that the messenger of death sent from the fatal weapon of

Hawkeye, had found a victim.  At this slight repulse the

assailants instantly withdrew, and gradually the place

became as still as before the sudden tumult.



Duncan seized the favorable moment to spring to the body of

Gamut, which he bore within the shelter of the narrow chasm

that protected the sisters.  In another minute the whole

party was collected in this spot of comparative safety.



"The poor fellow has saved his scalp," said Hawkeye, coolly

passing his hand over the head of David; "but he is a proof

that a man may be born with too long a tongue!  'Twas

downright madness to show six feet of flesh and blood, on a

naked rock, to the raging savages.  I only wonder he has

escaped with life."



"Is he not dead?" demanded Cora, in a voice whose husky

tones showed how powerfully natural horror struggled with

her assumed firmness.  "Can we do aught to assist the

wretched man?"



"No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he has

slept awhile he will come to himself, and be a wiser man for

it, till the hour of his real time shall come," returned

Hawkeye, casting another oblique glance at the insensible

body, while he filled his charger with admirable nicety.

"Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him on the sassafras.  The

longer his nap lasts the better it will be for him, as I

doubt whether he can find a proper cover for such a shape on

these rocks; and singing won't do any good with the

Iroquois."



"You believe, then, the attack will be renewed?" asked

Heyward.



"Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving with a

mouthful!  They have lost a man, and 'tis their fashion,

when they meet a loss, and fail in the surprise, to fall

back; but we shall have them on again, with new expedients

to circumvent us, and master our scalps.  Our main hope," he

continued, raising his rugged countenance, across which a

shade of anxiety just then passed like a darkening cloud,

"will be to keep the rock until Munro can send a party to

our help!  God send it may be soon and under a leader that

knows the Indian customs!"



"You hear our probable fortunes, Cora," said Duncan, "and

you know we have everything to hope from the anxiety and

experience of your father.  Come, then, with Alice, into

this cavern, where you, at least, will be safe from the

murderous rifles of our enemies, and where you may bestow a

care suited to your gentle natures on our unfortunate

comrade."



The sisters followed him into the outer cave, where David

was beginning, by his sighs, to give symptoms of returning

consciousness, and then commending the wounded man to their

attention, he immediately prepared to leave them.



"Duncan!" said the tremulous voice of Cora, when he had

reached the mouth of the cavern.  He turned and beheld the

speaker, whose color had changed to a deadly paleness, and

whose lips quivered, gazing after him, with an expression of

interest which immediately recalled him to her side.

"Remember, Duncan, how necessary your safety is to our own -

- how you bear a father's sacred trust--how much depends

on your discretion and care--in short," she added, while

the telltale blood stole over her features, crimsoning her

very temples, "how very deservedly dear you are to all of

the name of Munro."



"If anything could add to my own base love of life," said

Heyward, suffering his unconscious eyes to wander to the

youthful form of the silent Alice, "it would be so kind an

assurance.  As major of the Sixtieth, our honest host will

tell you I must take my share of the fray; but our task will

be easy; it is merely to keep these blood-hounds at bay for

a few hours."



Without waiting for a reply, he tore himself from the

presence of the sisters, and joined the scout and his

companions, who still lay within the protection of the

little chasm between the two caves.



"I tell you, Uncas," said the former, as Heyward joined

them, "you are wasteful of your powder, and the kick of the

rifle disconcerts your aim!  Little powder, light lead, and

a long arm, seldom fail of bringing the death screech from a

Mingo!  At least, such has been my experience with the


creatur's.  Come, friends: let us to our covers, for no man

can tell when or where a Maqua* will strike his blow."



* Mingo was the Delaware term of the Five Nations.

Maquas was the name given them by the Dutch.  The French,

from their first intercourse with them, called them

Iroquois.



The Indians silently repaired to their appointed stations,

which were fissures in the rocks, whence they could command

the approaches to the foot of the falls.  In the center of

the little island, a few short and stunted pines had found

root, forming a thicket, into which Hawkeye darted with the

swiftness of a deer, followed by the active Duncan.  Here

they secured themselves, as well as circumstances would

permit, among the shrubs and fragments of stone that were

scattered about the place.  Above them was a bare, rounded

rock, on each side of which the water played its gambols,

and plunged into the abysses beneath, in the manner already

described.  As the day had now dawned, the opposite shores

no longer presented a confused outline, but they were able

to look into the woods, and distinguish objects beneath a

canopy of gloomy pines.



A long and anxious watch succeeded, but without any further

evidences of a renewed attack; and Duncan began to hope that

their fire had proved more fatal than was supposed, and that

their enemies had been effectually repulsed.  When he

ventured to utter this impression to his companions, it was

met by Hawkeye with an incredulous shake of the head.



"You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think he is so

easily beaten back without a scalp!" he answered.  "If there

was one of the imps yelling this morning, there were forty!

and they know our number and quality too well to give up the

chase so soon.  Hist! look into the water above, just where

it breaks over the rocks.  I am no mortal, if the risky

devils haven't swam down upon the very pitch, and, as bad

luck would have it, they have hit the head of the island.

Hist! man, keep close! or the hair will be off your crown in

the turning of a knife!"



Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld what he

justly considered a prodigy of rashness and skill.  The

river had worn away the edge of the soft rock in such a

manner as to render its first pitch less abrupt and

perpendicular than is usual at waterfalls.  With no other

guide than the ripple of the stream where it met the head of

the island, a party of their insatiable foes had ventured

into the current, and swam down upon this point, knowing the

ready access it would give, if successful, to their intended

victims.



As Hawkeye ceased speaking, four human heads could be seen

peering above a few logs of drift-wood that had lodged on

these naked rocks, and which had probably suggested the idea

of the practicability of the hazardous undertaking.  At the

next moment, a fifth form was seen floating over the green

edge of the fall, a little from the line of the island.  The

savage struggled powerfully to gain the point of safety,

and, favored by the glancing water, he was already

stretching forth an arm to meet the grasp of his companions,

when he shot away again with the shirling current, appeared

to rise into the air, with uplifted arms and starting

eyeballs, and fell, with a sudden plunge, into that deep and

yawning abyss over which he hovered.  A single, wild,

despairing shriek rose from the cavern, and all was hushed

again as the grave.



The first generous impulse of Duncan was to rush to the

rescue of the hapless wretch; but he felt himself bound to

the spot by the iron grasp of the immovable scout.



"Would ye bring certain death upon us, by telling the

Mingoes where we lie?" demanded Hawkeye, sternly; "'Tis a

charge of powder saved, and ammunition is as precious now as

breath to a worried deer!  Freshen the priming of your

pistols--the midst of the falls is apt to dampen the

brimstone--and stand firm for a close struggle, while I

fire on their rush."



He placed a finger in his mouth, and drew a long, shrill

whistle, which was answered from the rocks that were guarded

by the Mohicans.  Duncan caught glimpses of heads above the

scattered drift-wood, as this signal rose on the air, but

they disappeared again as suddenly as they had glanced upon

his sight.  A low, rustling sound next drew his attention

behind him, and turning his head, he beheld Uncas within a

few feet, creeping to his side.  Hawkeye spoke to him in

Delaware, when the young chief took his position with

singular caution and undisturbed coolness.  To Heyward this

was a moment of feverish and impatient suspense; though the

scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read a

lecture to his more youthful associates on the art of using

firearms with discretion.



"Of all we'pons," he commenced, "the long barreled, true-

grooved, soft-metaled rifle is the most dangerous in

skillful hands, though it wants a strong arm, a quick eye,

and great judgment in charging, to put forth all its

beauties.  The gunsmiths can have but little insight into

their trade when they make their fowling-pieces and short

horsemen's--"



He was interrupted by the low but expressive "hugh" of

Uncas.



"I see them, boy, I see them!" continued Hawkeye; "they are

gathering for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs

below the logs.  Well, let them," he added, examining his

flint; "the leading man certainly comes on to his death,

though it should be Montcalm himself!"



At that moment the woods were filled with another burst of

cries, and at the signal four savages sprang from the cover

of the driftwood.  Heyward felt a burning desire to rush

forward to meet them, so intense was the delirious anxiety

of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate

examples of the scout and Uncas.



When their foes, who had leaped over the black rocks that

divided them, with long bounds, uttering the wildest yells,

were within a few rods, the rifle of Hawkeye slowly rose

among the shrubs, and poured out its fatal contents.  The

foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer, and fell

headlong among the clefts of the island.



"Now, Uncas!" cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while

his quick eyes began to flash with ardor, "take the last of

the screeching imps; of the other two we are sartain!"



He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be overcome.

Heyward had given one of his pistols to Hawkeye, and

together they rushed down a little declivity toward their

foes; they discharged their weapons at the same instant, and

equally without success.



"I know'd it! and I said it!" muttered the scout, whirling

the despised little implement over the falls with bitter

disdain.  "Come on, ye bloody minded hell-hounds! ye meet a

man without a cross!"



The words were barely uttered, when he encountered a savage

of gigantic stature, of the fiercest mien.  At the same

moment, Duncan found himself engaged with the other, in a

similar contest of hand to hand.  With ready skill, Hawkeye

and his antagonist each grasped that uplifted arm of the

other which held the dangerous knife.  For near a minute

they stood looking one another in the eye, and gradually

exerting the power of their muscles for the mastery.



At length, the toughened sinews of the white man prevailed

over the less practiced limbs of the native.  The arm of the

latter slowly gave way before the increasing force of the

scout, who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from the grasp

of the foe, drove the sharp weapon through his naked bosom

to the heart.  In the meantime, Heyward had been pressed in

a more deadly struggle.  His slight sword was snapped in the

first encounter.  As he was destitute of any other means of

defense, his safety now depended entirely on bodily strength

and resolution.  Though deficient in neither of these

qualities, he had met an enemy every way his equal.

Happily, he soon succeeded in disarming his adversary, whose

knife fell on the rock at their feet; and from this moment

it became a fierce struggle who should cast the other over

the dizzy height into a neighboring cavern of the falls.

Every successive struggle brought them nearer to the verge,

where Duncan perceived the final and conquering effort must

be made.  Each of the combatants threw all his energies into

that effort, and the result was, that both tottered on the

brink of the precipice.  Heyward felt the grasp of the other

at his throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, under

the revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a fate

similar to his own, as he felt his body slowly yielding to a

resistless power, and the young man experienced the passing

agony of such a moment in all its horrors.  At that instant

of extreme danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared

before him; the Indian released his hold, as the blood

flowed freely from around the severed tendons of the wrist;

and while Duncan was drawn backward by the saving hand of

Uncas, his charmed eyes still were riveted on the fierce and

disappointed countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly and

disappointed down the irrecoverable precipice.



"To cover! to cover!" cried Hawkeye, who just then had

despatched the enemy; "to cover, for your lives! the work is

but half ended!"



The young Mohican gave a shout of triumph, and followed by

Duncan, he glided up the acclivity they had descended to the

combat, and sought the friendly shelter of the rocks and

shrubs.







CHAPTER 8



"They linger yet, Avengers of their native land."--Gray



The warning call of the scout was not uttered without

occasion.  During the occurrence of the deadly encounter

just related, the roar of the falls was unbroken by any

human sound whatever.  It would seem that interest in the

result had kept the natives on the opposite shores in

breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift

changes in the positions of the combatants effectually

prevented a fire that might prove dangerous alike to friend

and enemy.  But the moment the struggle was decided, a yell

arose as fierce and savage as wild and revengeful passions

could throw into the air.  It was followed by the swift

flashes of the rifles, which sent their leaden messengers

across the rock in volleys, as though the assailants would

pour out their impotent fury on the insensible scene of the

fatal contest.



A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle

of Chingachgook, who had maintained his post throughout the

fray with unmoved resolution.  When the triumphant shout of

Uncas was borne to his ears, the gratified father raised his

voice in a single responsive cry, after which his busy piece

alone proved that he still guarded his pass with unwearied

diligence.  In this manner many minutes flew by with the

swiftness of thought; the rifles of the assailants speaking,

at times, in rattling volleys, and at others in occasional,

scattering shots.  Though the rock, the trees, and the

shrubs, were cut and torn in a hundred places around the

besieged, their cover was so close, and so rigidly

maintained, that, as yet, David had been the only sufferer

in their little band.



"Let them burn their powder," said the deliberate scout,

while bullet after bullet whizzed by the place where he

securely lay; "there will be a fine gathering of lead when

it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire of the sport

afore these old stones cry out for mercy!  Uncas, boy, you

waste the kernels by overcharging; and a kicking rifle never

carries a true bullet.  I told you to take that loping

miscreant under the line of white point; now, if your bullet

went a hair's breadth it went two inches above it.  The life

lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches us to make a quick

end to the sarpents."



A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young

Mohican, betraying his knowledge of the English language as

well as of the other's meaning; but he suffered it to pass

away without vindication of reply.



"I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or

of skill," said Duncan; "he saved my life in the coolest and

readiest manner, and he has made a friend who never will

require to be reminded of the debt he owes."



Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to the

grasp of Heyward.  During this act of friendship, the two

young men exchanged looks of intelligence which caused

Duncan to forget the character and condition of his wild

associate.  In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who looked on this

burst of youthful feeling with a cool but kind regard made

the following reply:



"Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in

the wilderness.  I dare say I may have served Uncas some

such turn myself before now; and I very well remember that

he has stood between me and death five different times;

three times from the Mingoes, once in crossing Horican, and

--"



"That bullet was better aimed than common!" exclaimed

Duncan, involuntarily shrinking from a shot which struck the

rock at his side with a smart rebound.



Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his

head, as he examined it, saying, "Falling lead is never

flattened, had it come from the clouds this might have

happened."



But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised toward the

heavens, directing the eyes of his companions to a point,

where the mystery was immediately explained.  A ragged oak

grew on the right bank of the river, nearly opposite to

their position, which, seeking the freedom of the open

space, had inclined so far forward that its upper branches

overhung that arm of the stream which flowed nearest to its

own shore.  Among the topmost leaves, which scantily

concealed the gnarled and stunted limbs, a savage was

nestled, partly concealed by the trunk of the tree, and

partly exposed, as though looking down upon them to

ascertain the effect produced by his treacherous aim.



"These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our

ruin," said Hawkeye; "keep him in play, boy, until I can

bring 'killdeer' to bear, when we will try his metal on each

side of the tree at once."



Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the word.



The rifles flashed, the leaves and bark of the oak flew into

the air, and were scattered by the wind, but the Indian

answered their assault by a taunting laugh, sending down

upon them another bullet in return, that struck the cap of

Hawkeye from his head.  Once more the savage yells burst out

of the woods, and the leaden hail whistled above the heads

of the besieged, as if to confine them to a place where they

might become easy victims to the enterprise of the warrior

who had mounted the tree.



"This must be looked to," said the scout, glancing about him

with an anxious eye.  "Uncas, call up your father; we have

need of all our we'pons to bring the cunning varmint from

his roost."



The signal was instantly given; and, before Hawkeye had

reloaded his rifle, they were joined by Chingachgook.  When

his son pointed out to the experienced warrior the situation

of their dangerous enemy, the usual exclamatory "hugh" burst

from his lips; after which, no further expression of

surprise or alarm was suffered to escape him.  Hawkeye and

the Mohicans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a

few moments, when each quietly took his post, in order to

execute the plan they had speedily devised.



The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though

ineffectual fire, from the moment of his discovery.  But his

aim was interrupted by the vigilance of his enemies, whose

rifles instantaneously bore on any part of his person that

was left exposed.  Still his bullets fell in the center of

the crouching party.  The clothes of Heyward, which rendered

him peculiarly conspicuous, were repeatedly cut, and once

blood was drawn from a slight wound in his arm.



At length, emboldened by the long and patient watchfulness

of his enemies, the Huron attempted a better and more fatal

aim.  The quick eyes of the Mohicans caught the dark line of

his lower limbs incautiously exposed through the thin

foliage, a few inches from the trunk of the tree.  Their

rifles made a common report, when, sinking on his wounded

limb, part of the body of the savage came into view.  Swift

as thought, Hawkeye seized the advantage, and discharged his

fatal weapon into the top of the oak.  The leaves were

unusually agitated; the dangerous rifle fell from its

commanding elevation, and after a few moments of vain

struggling, the form of the savage was seen swinging in the

wind, while he still grasped a ragged and naked branch of

the tree with hands clenched in desperation.



"Give him, in pity, give him the contents of another rifle,"

cried Duncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the

spectacle of a fellow creature in such awful jeopardy.



"Not a karnel!" exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; "his death

is certain, and we have no powder to spare, for Indian

fights sometimes last for days; "tis their scalps or ours!

and God, who made us, has put into our natures the craving

to keep the skin on the head."



Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it

was by such visible policy, there was no appeal.  From that

moment the yells in the forest once more ceased, the fire

was suffered to decline, and all eyes, those of friends as

well as enemies, became fixed on the hopeless condition of

the wretch who was dangling between heaven and earth.  The

body yielded to the currents of air, and though no murmur or

groan escaped the victim, there were instants when he grimly

faced his foes, and the anguish of cold despair might be

traced, through the intervening distance, in possession of

his swarthy lineaments.  Three several times the scout

raised his piece in mercy, and as often, prudence getting

the better of his intention, it was again silently lowered.

At length one hand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped

exhausted to his side.  A desperate and fruitless struggle

to recover the branch succeeded, and then the savage was

seen for a fleeting instant, grasping wildly at the empty

air.  The lightning is not quicker than was the flame from

the rifle of Hawkeye; the limbs of the victim trembled and

contracted, the head fell to the bosom, and the body parted

the foaming waters like lead, when the element closed above

it, in its ceaseless velocity, and every vestige of the

unhappy Huron was lost forever.



No shout of triumph succeeded this important advantage, but

even the Mohicans gazed at each other in silent horror.  A

single yell burst from the woods, and all was again still.

Hawkeye, who alone appeared to reason on the occasion, shook

his head at his own momentary weakness, even uttering his

self-disapprobation aloud.



"'Twas the last charge in my horn and the last bullet in my

pouch, and 'twas the act of a boy!" he said; "what mattered

it whether he struck the rock living or dead! feeling would

soon be over.  Uncas, lad, go down to the canoe, and bring

up the big horn; it is all the powder we have left, and we

shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of the

Mingo nature."



The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turning over

the useless contents of his pouch, and shaking the empty

horn with renewed discontent.  From this unsatisfactory

examination, however, he was soon called by a loud and

piercing exclamation from Uncas, that sounded, even to the

unpracticed ears of Duncan, as the signal of some new and

unexpected calamity.  Every thought filled with apprehension

for the previous treasure he had concealed in the cavern,

the young man started to his feet, totally regardless of the

hazard he incurred by such an exposure.  As if actuated by a

common impulse, his movement was imitated by his companions,

and, together they rushed down the pass to the friendly

chasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scattering fire of

their enemies perfectly harmless.  The unwonted cry had

brought the sisters, together with the wounded David, from

their place of refuge; and the whole party, at a single

glance, was made acquainted with the nature of the disaster

that had disturbed even the practiced stoicism of their

youthful Indian protector.



At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to

be seen floating across the eddy, toward the swift current

of the river, in a manner which proved that its course was

directed by some hidden agent.  The instant this unwelcome

sight caught the eye of the scout, his rifle was leveled as

by instinct, but the barrel gave no answer to the bright

sparks of the flint.



"'Tis too late, 'tis too late!" Hawkeye exclaimed, dropping

the useless piece in bitter disappointment; "the miscreant

has struck the rapid; and had we powder, it could hardly

send the lead swifter than he now goes!"



The adventurous Huron raised his head above the shelter of

the canoe, and, while it glided swiftly down the stream, he

waved his hand, and gave forth the shout, which was the

known signal of success.  His cry was answered by a yell and

a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting as if fifty

demons were uttering their blasphemies at the fall of some

Christian soul.



"Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil!" said the

scout, seating himself on a projection of the rock, and

suffering his gun to fall neglected at his feet, "for the

three quickest and truest rifles in these woods are no

better than so many stalks of mullein, or the last year's

horns of a buck!"



"What is to be done?" demanded Duncan, losing the first

feeling of disappointment in a more manly desire for

exertion; "what will become of us?"



Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger

around the crown of his head, in a manner so significant,

that none who witnessed the action could mistake its

meaning.



"Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!" exclaimed

the youth; "the Hurons are not here; we may make good the

caverns, we may oppose their landing."



"With what?" coolly demanded the scout.  "The arrows of

Uncas, or such tears as women shed!  No, no; you are young,

and rich, and have friends, and at such an age I know it is

hard to die!  But," glancing his eyes at the Mohicans, "let

us remember we are men without a cross, and let us teach

these natives of the forest that white blood can run as

freely as red, when the appointed hour is come."



Duncan turned quickly in the direction indicated by the

other's eyes, and read a confirmation of his worst

apprehensions in the conduct of the Indians.  Chingachgook,

placing himself in a dignified posture on another fragment

of the rock, had already laid aside his knife and tomahawk,

and was in the act of taking the eagle's plume from his

head, and smoothing the solitary tuft of hair in readiness

to perform its last and revolting office.  His countenance

was composed, though thoughtful, while his dark, gleaming

eyes were gradually losing the fierceness of the combat in

an expression better suited to the change he expected

momentarily to undergo.



"Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless!" said Duncan; "even

at this very moment succor may be at hand.  I see no

enemies!  They have sickened of a struggle in which they

risk so much with so little prospect of gain!"



"It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the wily

sarpents steal upon us, and it is quite in natur' for them

to be lying within hearing at this very moment," said

Hawkeye; "but come they will, and in such a fashion as will

leave us nothing to hope! Chingachgook"--he spoke in

Delaware--"my brother, we have fought our last battle

together, and the Maquas will triumph in the death of the

sage man of the Mohicans, and of the pale face, whose eyes

can make night as day, and level the clouds to the mists of

the springs!"



"Let the Mingo women go weep over the slain!" returned the

Indian, with characteristic pride and unmoved firmness; "the

Great Snake of the Mohicans has coiled himself in their

wigwams, and has poisoned their triumph with the wailings of

children, whose fathers have not returned!  Eleven warriors

lie hid form the graves of their tribes since the snows have

melted, and none will tell where to find them when the

tongue of Chingachgook shall be silent!  Let them draw the

sharpest knife, and whirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their

bitterest enemy is in their hands.  Uncas, topmost branch of

a noble trunk, call on the cowards to hasten, or their

hearts will soften, and they will change to women!"



"They look among the fishes for their dead!" returned the

low, soft voice of the youthful chieftain; "the Hurons float

with the slimy eels!  They drop from the oaks like fruit

that is ready to be eaten! and the Delawares laugh!"



"Ay, ay," muttered the scout, who had listened to this

peculiar burst of the natives with deep attention; "they

have warmed their Indian feelings, and they'll soon provoke

the Maquas to give them a speedy end.  As for me, who am of

the whole blood of the whites, it is befitting that I should

die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my

mouth, and without bitterness at the heart!"



"Why die at all!" said Cora, advancing from the place where

natural horror had, until this moment, held her riveted to

the rock; "the path is open on every side; fly, then, to the

woods, and call on God for succor.  Go, brave men, we owe

you too much already; let us no longer involve you in our

hapless fortunes!"



"You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you

judge they have left the path open to the woods!" returned

Hawkeye, who, however, immediately added in his simplicity,

"the down stream current, it is certain, might soon sweep us

beyond the reach of their rifles or the sound of their

voices."



"Then try the river.  Why linger to add to the number of the

victims of our merciless enemies?"



"Why," repeated the scout, looking about him proudly;

"because it is better for a man to die at peace with himself

than to live haunted by an evil conscience!  What answer

could we give Munro, when he asked us where and how we left

his children?"



"Go to him, and say that you left them with a message to

hasten to their aid," returned Cora, advancing nigher to the

scout in her generous ardor; "that the Hurons bear them into

the northern wilds, but that by vigilance and speed they may

yet be rescued; and if, after all, it should please heaven

that his assistance come too late, bear to him," she

continued, her voice gradually lowering, until it seemed

nearly choked, "the love, the blessings, the final prayers

of his daughters, and bid him not mourn their early fate,

but to look forward with humble confidence to the

Christian's goal to meet his children."  The hard, weather-

beaten features of the scout began to work, and when she had

ended, he dropped his chin to his hand, like a man musing

profoundly on the nature of the proposal.



"There is reason in her words!" at length broke from his

compressed and trembling lips; "ay, and they bear the spirit

of Christianity; what might be right and proper in a red-

skin, may be sinful in a man who has not even a cross in

blood to plead for his ignorance.  Chingachgook! Uncas! hear

you the talk of the dark-eyed woman?"



He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and his address,

though calm and deliberate, seemed very decided.  The elder

Mohican heard with deep gravity, and appeared to ponder on

his words, as though he felt the importance of their import.

After a moment of hesitation, he waved his hand in assent,

and uttered the English word "Good!" with the peculiar

emphasis of his people.  Then, replacing his knife and

tomahawk in his girdle, the warrior moved silently to the

edge of the rock which was most concealed from the banks of

the river.  Here he paused a moment, pointed significantly

to the woods below, and saying a few words in his own

language, as if indicating his intended route, he dropped

into the water, and sank from before the eyes of the

witnesses of his movements.



The scout delayed his departure to speak to the generous

girl, whose breathing became lighter as she saw the success

of her remonstrance.



"Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the

old," he said; "and what you have spoken is wise, not to

call it by a better word.  If you are led into the woods,

that is such of you as may be spared for awhile, break the

twigs on the bushes as you pass, and make the marks of your

trail as broad as you can, when, if mortal eyes can see

them, depend on having a friend who will follow to the ends

of the 'arth afore he desarts you."



He gave Cora an affectionate shake of the hand, lifted his

rifle, and after regarding it a moment with melancholy

solicitude, laid it carefully aside, and descended to the

place where Chingachgook had just disappeared.  For an

instant he hung suspended by the rock, and looking about

him, with a countenance of peculiar care, he added bitterly,

"Had the powder held out, this disgrace could never have

befallen!" then, loosening his hold, the water closed above

his head, and he also became lost to view.



All eyes now were turned on Uncas, who stood leaning against

the ragged rock, in immovable composure.  After waiting a

short time, Cora pointed down the river, and said:



"Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most

probably, in safety.  Is it not time for you to follow?"



"Uncas will stay," the young Mohican calmly answered in

English.



"To increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the

chances of our release!  Go, generous young man," Cora

continued, lowering her eyes under the gaze of the Mohican,

and perhaps, with an intuitive consciousness of her power;

"go to my father, as I have said, and be the most

confidential of my messengers.  Tell him to trust you with

the means to buy the freedom of his daughters.  Go! 'tis my

wish, 'tis my prayer, that you will go!"



The settled, calm look of the young chief changed to an

expression of gloom, but he no longer hesitated.  With a

noiseless step he crossed the rock, and dropped into the

troubled stream.  Hardly a breath was drawn by those he left

behind, until they caught a glimpse of his head emerging for

air, far down the current, when he again sank, and was seen

no more.



These sudden and apparently successful experiments had all

taken place in a few minutes of that time which had now

become so precious.  After a last look at Uncas, Cora

turne,d and with a quivering lip, addressed herself to

Heyward:



"I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too,

Duncan," she said; "follow, then, the wise example set you

by these simple and faithful beings."



"Is such the faith that Cora Munro would exact from her

protector?" said the young man, smiling mournfully, but with

bitterness.



"This is not a time for idle subtleties and false opinions,"

she answered; "but a moment when every duty should be

equally considered.  To us you can be of no further service

here, but your precious life may be saved for other and

nearer friends."



He made no reply, though his eye fell wistfully on the

beautiful form of Alice, who was clinging to his arm with

the dependency of an infant.



"Consider," continued Cora, after a pause, during which she

seemed to struggle with a pang even more acute than any that

her fears had excited, "that the worst to us can be but

death; a tribute that all must pay at the good time of God's

appointment."



"There are evils worse than death," said Duncan, speaking

hoarsely, and as if fretful at her importunity, "but which

the presence of one who would die in your behalf may avert."



Cora ceased her entreaties; and veiling her face in her

shawl, drew the nearly insensible Alice after her into the

deepest recess of the inner cavern.







CHAPTER 9



"Be gay securely; Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous

clouds, That hang on thy clear brow."--Death of Agrippina



The sudden and almost magical change, from the stirring

incidents of the combat to the stillness that now reigned

around him, acted on the heated imagination of Heyward like

some exciting dream.  While all the images and events he had

witnessed remained deeply impressed on his memory, he felt a

difficulty in persuading him of their truth.  Still ignorant

of the fate of those who had trusted to the aid of the swift

current, he at first listened intently to any signal or

sounds of alarm, which might announce the good or evil

fortune of their hazardous undertaking.  His attention was,

however, bestowed in vain; for with the disappearance of

Uncas, every sign of the adventurers had been lost, leaving

him in total uncertainty of their fate.



In a moment of such painful doubt, Duncan did not hesitate

to look around him, without consulting that protection from

the rocks which just before had been so necessary to his

safety.  Every effort, however, to detect the least evidence

of the approach of their hidden enemies was as fruitless as

the inquiry after his late companions.  The wooded banks of

the river seemed again deserted by everything possessing

animal life.  The uproar which had so lately echoed through

the vaults of the forest was gone, leaving the rush of the

waters to swell and sink on the currents of the air, in the

unmingled sweetness of nature.  A fish-hawk, which, secure

on the topmost branches of a dead pine, had been a distant

spectator of the fray, now swooped form his high and ragged

perch, and soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a

jay, whose noisy voice had been stilled by the hoarser cries

of the savages, ventured again to open his discordant

throat, as though once more in undisturbed possession of his

wild domains.  Duncan caught from these natural

accompaniments of the solitary scene a glimmering of hope;

and he began to rally his faculties to renewed exertions,

with something like a reviving confidence of success.



"The Hurons are not to be seen," he said, addressing David,

who had by no means recovered from the effects of the

stunning blow he had received; "let us conceal ourselves in

the cavern, and trust the rest to Providence."



"I remember to have united with two comely maidens, in

lifting up our voices in praise and thanksgiving," returned

the bewildered singing-master; "since which time I have been

visited by a heavy judgment for my sins.  I have been mocked

with the likensss of sleep, while sounds of discord have

rent my ears, such as might manifest the fullness of time,

and that nature had forgotten her harmony."



"Poor fellow! thine own period was, in truth, near its

accomplishment!  But arouse, and come with me; I will lead

you where all other sounds but those of your own psalmody

shall be excluded."



"There is melody in the fall of the cataract, and the

rushing of many waters is sweet to the senses!" said David,

pressing his hand confusedly on his brow.  "Is not the air

yet filled with shrieks and cries, as though the departed

spirits of the damned--"



"Not now, not now," interrupted the impatient Heyward, "they

have ceased, and they who raised them, I trust in God, they

are gone, too! everything but the water is still and at

peace; in, then, where you may create those sounds you love

so well to hear."



David smiled sadly, though not without a momentary gleam of

pleasure, at this allusion to his beloved vocation.  He no

longer hesitated to be led to a spot which promised such

unalloyed gratification to his wearied senses; and leaning

on the arm of his companion, he entered the narrow mouth of

the cave.  Duncan seized a pile of the sassafras, which he

drew before the passage, studiously concealing every

appearance of an aperture.  Within this fragile barrier he

arranged the blankets abandoned by the foresters, darkening

the inner extremity of the cavern, while its outer received

a chastened light from the narrow ravine, through which one

arm of the river rushed to form the junction with its sister

branch a few rods below.



"I like not the principle of the natives, which teaches them

to submit without a struggle, in emergencies that appear

desperate," he said, while busied in this employment; "our

own maxim, which says, 'while life remains there is hope',

is more consoling, and better suited to a soldier's

temperament.  To you, Cora, I will urge no words of idle

encouragement; your own fortitude and undisturbed reason

will teach you all that may become your sex; but cannot we

dry the tears of that trembling weeper on your bosom?"



"I am calmer, Duncan," said Alice, raising herself from the

arms of her sister, and forcing an appearance of composure

through her tears; "much calmer, now.  Surely, in this

hidden spot we are safe, we are secret, free from injury; we

will hope everything from those generous men who have risked

so much already in our behalf."



"Now does our gentle Alice speak like a daughter of Munro!"

said Heyward, pausing to press her hand as he passed toward

the outer entrance of the cavern.  "With two such examples

of courage before him, a man would be ashamed to prove other

than a hero."  He then seated himself in the center of the

cavern, grasping his remaining pistol with a hand

convulsively clenched, while his contracted and frowning eye

announced the sullen desperation of his purpose.  "The

Hurons, if they come, may not gain our position so easily as

they think," he slowly muttered; and propping his head back

against the rock, he seemed to await the result in patience,

though his gaze was unceasingly bent on the open avenue to

their place of retreat.



With the last sound of his voice, a deep, a long, and almost

breathless silence succeeded.  The fresh air of the morning

had penetrated the recess, and its influence was gradually

felt on the spirits of its inmates.  As minute after minute

passed by, leaving them in undisturbed security, the

insinuating feeling of hope was gradually gaining possession

of every bosom, though each one felt reluctant to give

utterance to expectations that the next moment might so

fearfully destroy.



David alone formed an exception to these varying emotions.

A gleam of light from the opening crossed his wan

countenance, and fell upon the pages of the little volume,

whose leaves he was again occupied in turning, as if

searching for some song more fitted to their condition than

any that had yet met their eye.  He was, most probably,

acting all this time under a confused recollection of the

promised consolation of Duncan.  At length, it would seem,

his patient industry found its reward; for, without

explanation or apology, he pronounced aloud the words "Isle

of Wight," drew a long, sweet sound from his pitch-pipe, and

then ran through the preliminary modulations of the air

whose name he had just mentioned, with the sweeter tones of

his own musical voice.



"May not this prove dangerous?" asked Cora, glancing her

dark eye at Major Heyward.



"Poor fellow! his voice is too feeble to be heard above the

din of the falls," was the answer; "beside, the cavern will

prove his friend.  Let him indulge his passions since it may

be done without hazard."



"Isle of Wight!" repeated David, looking about him with that

dignity with which he had long been wont to silence the

whispering echoes of his school; "'tis a brave tune, and set

to solemn words! let it be sung with meet respect!"



After allowing a moment of stillness to enforce his

discipline, the voice of the singer was heard, in low,

murmuring syllables, gradually stealing on the ear, until it

filled the narrow vault with sounds rendered trebly

thrilling by the feeble and tremulous utterance produced by

his debility.  The melody, which no weakness could destroy,

gradually wrought its sweet influence on the senses of those

who heard it.  It even prevailed over the miserable travesty

of the song of David which the singer had selected from a

volume of similar effusions, and caused the sense to be

forgotten in the insinuating harmony of the sounds.  Alice

unconsciously dried her tears, and bent her melting eyes on

the pallid features of Gamut, with an expression of

chastened delight that she neither affected or wished to

conceal.  Cora bestowed an approving smile on the pious

efforts of the namesake of the Jewish prince, and Heyward

soon turned his steady, stern look from the outlet of the

cavern, to fasten it, with a milder character, on the face

of David, or to meet the wandering beams which at moments

strayed from the humid eyes of Alice.  The open sympathy of

the listeners stirred the spirit of the votary of music,

whose voice regained its richness and volume, without losing

that touching softness which proved its secret charm.

Exerting his renovated powers to their utmost, he was yet

filling the arches of the cave with long and full tones,

when a yell burst into the air without, that instantly

stilled his pious strains, choking his voice suddenly, as

though his heart had literally bounded into the passage of

his throat.



"We are lost!" exclaimed Alice, throwing herself into the

arms of Cora.



"Not yet, not yet," returned the agitated but undaunted

Heyward: "the sound came from the center of the island, and

it has been produced by the sight of their dead companions.

We are not yet discovered, and there is still hope."



Faint and almost despairing as was the prospect of escape,

the words of Duncan were not thrown away, for it awakened

the powers of the sisters in such a manner that they awaited

the results in silence.  A second yell soon followed the

first, when a rush of voices was heard pouring down the

island, from its upper to its lower extremity, until they

reached the naked rock above the caverns, where, after a

shout of savage triumph, the air continued full of horrible

cries and screams, such as man alone can utter, and he only

when in a state of the fiercest barbarity.



The sounds quickly spread around them in every direction.

Some called to their fellows from the water's edge, and were

answered from the heights above.  Cries were heard in the

startling vicinity of the chasm between the two caves, which

mingled with hoarser yells that arose out of the abyss of

the deep ravine.  In short, so rapidly had the savage sounds

diffused themselves over the barren rock, that it was not

difficult for the anxious listeners to imagine they could be

heard beneath, as in truth they were above on every side of

them.



In the midst of this tumult, a triumphant yell was raised

within a few yards of the hidden entrance to the cave.

Heyward abandoned every hope, with the belief it was the

signal that they were discovered.  Again the impression

passed away, as he heard the voices collect near the spot

where the white man had so reluctantly abandoned his rifle.

Amid the jargon of Indian dialects that he now plainly

heard, it was easy to distinguish not only words, but

sentences, in the patois of the Canadas.  A burst of voices

had shouted simultaneously, "La Longue Carabine!" causing

the opposite woods to re-echo with a name which, Heyward

well remembered, had been given by his enemies to a

celebrated hunter and scout of the English camp, and who, he

now learned for the first time, had been his late companion.



"La Longue Carabine! La Longue Carabine!" passed from mouth

to mouth, until the whole band appeared to be collected

around a trophy which would seem to announce the death of

its formidable owner.  After a vociferous consultation,

which was, at times, deafened by bursts of savage joy, they

again separated, filling the air with the name of a foe,

whose body, Heywood could collect from their expressions,

they hoped to find concealed in some crevice of the island.



"Now," he whispered to the trembling sisters, "now is the

moment of uncertainty! if our place of retreat escape this

scrutiny, we are still safe!  In every event, we are

assured, by what has fallen from our enemies, that our

friends have escaped, and in two short hours we may look for

succor from Webb."



There were now a few minutes of fearful stillness, during

which Heyward well knew that the savages conducted their

search with greater vigilance and method.  More than once he

could distinguish their footsteps, as they brushed the

sassafras, causing the faded leaves to rustle, and the

branches to snap.  At length, the pile yielded a little, a

corner of a blanket fell, and a faint ray of light gleamed

into the inner part of the cave.  Cora folded Alice to her

bosom in agony, and Duncan sprang to his feet.  A shout was

at that moment heard, as if issuing from the center of the

rock, announcing that the neighboring cavern had at length

been entered.  In a minute, the number and loudness of the

voices indicated that the whole party was collected in and

around that secret place.



As the inner passages to the two caves were so close to each

other, Duncan, believing that escape was no longer possible,

passed David and the sisters, to place himself between the

latter and the first onset of the terrible meeting.  Grown

desperate by his situation, he drew nigh the slight barrier

which separated him only by a few feet from his relentless

pursuers, and placing his face to the casual opening, he

even looked out with a sort of desperate indifference, on

their movements.



Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder of a

gigantic Indian, whose deep and authoritative voice appeared

to give directions to the proceedings of his fellows.

Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the vault opposite,

which was filled with savages, upturning and rifling the

humble furniture of the scout.  The wound of David had dyed

the leaves of sassafras with a color that the native well

knew as anticipating the season.  Over this sign of their

success, they sent up a howl, like an opening from so many

hounds who had recovered a lost trail.  After this yell of

victory, they tore up the fragrant bed of the cavern, and

bore the branches into the chasm, scattering the boughs, as

if they suspected them of concealing the person of the man

they had so long hated and feared.  One fierce and wild-

looking warrior approached the chief, bearing a load of the

brush, and pointing exultingly to the deep red stains with

which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in Indian yells,

whose meaning Heyward was only enabled to comprehend by the

frequent repetition of the name "La Longue Carabine!"  When

his triumph had ceased, he cast the brush on the slight heap

Duncan had made before the entrance of the second cavern,

and closed the view.  His example was followed by others,

who, as they drew the branches from the cave of the scout,

threw them into one pile, adding, unconsciously, to the

security of those they sought.  The very slightness of the

defense was its chief merit, for no one thought of

disturbing a mass of brush, which all of them believed, in

that moment of hurry and confusion, had been accidentally

raised by the hands of their own party.



As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, and the

branches settled in the fissure of the rock by their own

weight, forming a compact body, Duncan once more breathed

freely.  With a light step and lighter heart, he returned to

the center of the cave, and took the place he had left,

where he could command a view of the opening next the river.

While he was in the act of making this movement, the

Indians, as if changing their purpose by a common impulse,

broke away from the chasm in a body, and were heard rushing

up the island again, toward the point whence they had

originally descended.  Here another wailing cry betrayed

that they were again collected around the bodies of their

dead comrades.



Duncan now ventured to look at his companions; for, during

the most critical moments of their danger, he had been

apprehensive that the anxiety of his countenance might

communicate some additional alarm to those who were so

little able to sustain it.



"They are gone, Cora!" he whispered; "Alice, they are

returned whence they came, and we are saved!  To Heaven,

that has alone delivered us from the grasp of so merciless

an enemy, be all the praise!"



"Then to Heaven will I return my thanks!" exclaimed the

younger sister, rising from the encircling arm of Cora, and

casting herself with enthusiastic gratitude on the naked

rock; "to that Heaven who has spared the tears of a gray-

headed father; has saved the lives of those I so much love."



Both Heyward and the more temperate Cora witnessed the act

of involuntary emotion with powerful sympathy, the former

secretly believing that piety had never worn a form so

lovely as it had now assumed in the youthful person of

Alice.  Her eyes were radiant with the glow of grateful

feelings; the flush of her beauty was again seated on her

cheeks, and her whole soul seemed ready and anxious to pour

out its thanksgivings through the medium of her eloquent

features.  But when her lips moved, the words they should

have uttered appeared frozen by some new and sudden chill.

Her bloom gave place to the paleness of death; her soft and

melting eyes grew hard, and seemed contracting with horror;

while those hands, which she had raised, clasped in each

other, toward heaven, dropped in horizontal lines before

her, the fingers pointed forward in convulsed motion.

Heyward turned the instant she gave a direction to his

suspicions, and peering just above the ledge which formed

the threshold of the open outlet of the cavern, he beheld

the malignant, fierce and savage features of Le Renard

Subtil.



In that moment of surprise, the self-possession of Heyward

did not desert him.  He observed by the vacant expression of

the Indian's countenance, that his eye, accustomed to the

open air had not yet been able to penetrate the dusky light

which pervaded the depth of the cavern.  He had even thought

of retreating beyond a curvature in the natural wall, which

might still conceal him and his companions, when by the

sudden gleam of intelligence that shot across the features

of the savage, he saw it was too late, and that they were

betrayed.



The look of exultation and brutal triumph which announced

this terrible truth was irresistibly irritating.  Forgetful

of everything but the impulses of his hot blood, Duncan

leveled his pistol and fired.  The report of the weapon made

the cavern bellow like an eruption from a volcano; and when

the smoke it vomited had been driven away before the current

of air which issued from the ravine the place so lately

occupied by the features of his treacherous guide was

vacant.  Rushing to the outlet, Heyward caught a glimpse of

his dark figure stealing around a low and narrow ledge,

which soon hid him entirely from sight.



Among the savages a frightful stillness succeeded the

explosion, which had just been heard bursting from the

bowels of the rock.  But when Le Renard raised his voice in

a long and intelligible whoop, it was answered by a

spontaneous yell from the mouth of every Indian within

hearing of the sound.



The clamorous noises again rushed down the island; and

before Duncan had time to recover from the shock, his feeble

barrier of brush was scattered to the winds, the cavern was

entered at both its extremities, and he and his companions

were dragged from their shelter and borne into the day,

where they stood surrounded by the whole band of the

triumphant Hurons.







CHAPTER 10



"I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn As much as we this

night have overwatched!"--Midsummer Night's Dream



The instant the shock of this sudden misfortune had abated,

Duncan began to make his observations on the appearance and

proceedings of their captors.  Contrary to the usages of the

natives in the wantonness of their success they had

respected, not only the persons of the trembling sisters,

but his own.  The rich ornaments of his military attire had

indeed been repeatedly handled by different individuals of

the tribes with eyes expressing a savage longing to possess

the baubles; but before the customary violence could be

resorted to, a mandate in the authoritative voice of the

large warrior, already mentioned, stayed the uplifted hand,

and convinced Heyward that they were to be reserved for some

object of particular moment.



While, however, these manifestations of weakness were

exhibited by the young and vain of the party, the more

experienced warriors continued their search throughout both

caverns, with an activity that denoted they were far from

being satisfied with those fruits of their conquest which

had already been brought to light.  Unable to discover any

new victim, these diligent workers of vengeance soon

approached their male prisoners, pronouncing the name "La

Longue Carabine," with a fierceness that could not be easily

mistaken.  Duncan affected not to comprehend the meaning of

their repeated and violent interrogatories, while his

companion was spared the effort of a similar deception by

his ignorance of French.  Wearied at length by their

importunities, and apprehensive of irritating his captors by

too stubborn a silence, the former looked about him in quest

of Magua, who might interpret his answers to questions which

were at each moment becoming more earnest and threatening.



The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary exception

to that of all his fellows.  While the others were busily

occupied in seeking to gratify their childish passion for

finery, by plundering even the miserable effects of the

scout, or had been searching with such bloodthirsty

vengeance in their looks for their absent owner, Le Renard

had stood at a little distance from the prisoners, with a

demeanor so quiet and satisfied, as to betray that he had

already effected the grand purpose of his treachery.  When

the eyes of Heyward first met those of his recent guide, he

turned them away in horror at the sinister though calm look

he encountered.  Conquering his disgust, however, he was

able, with an averted face, to address his successful enemy.



"Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior," said the

reluctant Heyward, "to refuse telling an unarmed man what

his conquerors say."



"They ask for the hunter who knows the paths through the

woods," returned Magua, in his broken English, laying his

hand, at the same time, with a ferocious smile, on the

bundle of leaves with which a wound on his own shoulder was

bandaged.  "'La Longue Carabine'! his rifle is good, and his

eye never shut; but, like the short gun of the white chief,

it is nothing against the life of Le Subtil."



"Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts received in

war, or the hands that gave them."



"Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the sugartree

to taste his corn! who filled the bushes with creeping

enemies! who drew the knife, whose tongue was peace, while

his heart was colored with blood!  Did Magua say that the

hatchet was out of the ground, and that his hand had dug it

up?"



As Duncan dared not retort upon his accuser by reminding him

of his own premeditated treachery, and disdained to

deprecate his resentment by any words of apology, he

remained silent.  Magua seemed also content to rest the

controversy as well as all further communication there, for

he resumed the leaning attitude against the rock from which,

in momentary energy, he had arisen.  But the cry of "La

Longue Carabine" was renewed the instant the impatient

savages perceived that the short dialogue was ended.



"You hear," said Magua, with stubborn indifference: "the red

Hurons call for the life of 'The Long Rifle', or they will

have the blood of him that keep him hid!"



"He is gone--escaped; he is far beyond their reach."



Renard smiled with cold contempt, as he answered:



"When the white man dies, he thinks he is at peace; but the

red men know how to torture even the ghosts of their

enemies.  Where is his body? Let the Hurons see his scalp."



"He is not dead, but escaped."



Magua shook his head incredulously.



"Is he a bird, to spread his wings; or is he a fish, to swim

without air!  The white chief read in his books, and he

believes the Hurons are fools!"



"Though no fish, 'The Long Rifle' can swim.  He floated down

the stream when the powder was all burned, and when the eyes

of the Hurons were behind a cloud."



"And why did the white chief stay?" demanded the still

incredulous Indian.  "Is he a stone that goes to the bottom,

or does the scalp burn his head?"



"That I am not stone, your dead comrade, who fell into the

falls, might answer, were the life still in him," said the

provoked young man, using, in his anger, that boastful

language which was most likely to excite the admiration of

an Indian.  "The white man thinks none but cowards desert

their women."



Magua muttered a few words, inaudibly, between his teeth,

before he continued, aloud:



"Can the Delawares swim, too, as well as crawl in the

bushes? Where is 'Le Gros Serpent'?"



Duncan, who perceived by the use of these Canadian

appellations, that his late companions were much better

known to his enemies than to himself, answered, reluctantly:

"He also is gone down with the water."



"'Le Cerf Agile' is not here?"



"I know not whom you call 'The Nimble Deer'," said Duncan

gladly profiting by any excuse to create delay.



"Uncas," returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware name with

even greater difficulty than he spoke his English words.

"'Bounding Elk' is what the white man says, when he calls to

the young Mohican."



"Here is some confusion in names between us, Le Renard,"

said Duncan, hoping to provoke a discussion.  "Daim is the

French for deer, and cerf for stag; elan is the true term,

when one would speak of an elk."



"Yes," muttered the Indian, in his native tongue; "the pale

faces are prattling women! they have two words for each

thing, while a red-skin will make the sound of his voice

speak to him."  Then, changing his language, he continued,

adhering to the imperfect nomenclature of his provincial

instructors.  "The deer is swift, but weak; the elk is


swift, but strong; and the son of 'Le Serpent' is 'Le Cerf

Agile' Has he leaped the river to the woods?"



"If you mean the younger Delaware, he, too, has gone down

with the water."



As there was nothing improbable to an Indian in the manner

of the escape, Magua admitted the truth of what he had

heard, with a readiness that afforded additional evidence

how little he would prize such worthless captives.  With his

companions, however, the feeling was manifestly different.



The Hurons had awaited the result of this short dialogue

with characteristic patience, and with a silence that

increased until there was a general stillness in the band.

When Heyward ceased to speak, they turned their eyes, as one

man, on Magua, demanding, in this expressive manner, an

explanation of what had been said.  Their interpreter

pointed to the river, and made them acquainted with the

result, as much by the action as by the few words he

uttered.  When the fact was generally understood, the

savages raised a frightful yell, which declared the extent

of their disappointment.  Some ran furiously to the water's

edge, beating the air with frantic gestures, while others

spat upon the element, to resent the supposed treason it had

committed against their acknowledged rights as conquerors.

A few, and they not the least powerful and terrific of the

band, threw lowering looks, in which the fiercest passion

was only tempered by habitual self-command, at those

captives who still remained in their power, while one or two

even gave vent to their malignant feelings by the most

menacing gestures, against which neither the sex nor the

beauty of the sisters was any protection.  The young soldier

made a desperate but fruitless effort to spring to the side

of Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted in

the rich tresses which were flowing in volumes over her

shoulders, while a knife was passed around the head from

which they fell, as if to denote the horrid manner in which

it was about to be robbed of its beautiful ornament.  But

his hands were bound; and at the first movement he made, he

felt the grasp of the powerful Indian who directed the band,

pressing his shoulder like a vise.  Immediately conscious

how unavailing any struggle against such an overwhelming

force must prove, he submitted to his fate, encouraging his

gentle companions by a few low and tender assurances, that

the natives seldom failed to threaten more than they

performed.



But while Duncan resorted to these words of consolation to

quiet the apprehensions of the sisters, he was not so weak

as to deceive himself.  He well knew that the authority of

an Indian chief was so little conventional, that it was

oftener maintained by physical superiority than by any moral

supremacy he might possess.  The danger was, therefore,

magnified exactly in proportion to the number of the savage

spirits by which they were surrounded.  The most positive

mandate from him who seemed the acknowledged leader, was

liable to be violated at each moment by any rash hand that

might choose to sacrifice a victim to the manes of some dead

friend or relative.  While, therefore, he sustained an

outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart

leaped into his throat, whenever any of their fierce captors

drew nearer than common to the helpless sisters, or fastened

one of their sullen, wandering looks on those fragile forms

which were so little able to resist the slightest assault.



His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, when he

saw that the leader had summoned his warriors to himself in

counsel.  Their deliberations were short, and it would seem,

by the silence of most of the party, the decision unanimous.

By the frequency with which the few speakers pointed in the

direction of the encampment of Webb, it was apparent they

dreaded the approach of danger from that quarter.  This

consideration probably hastened their determination, and

quickened the subsequent movements.



During his short conference, Heyward, finding a respite from

his gravest fears, had leisure to admire the cautious manner

in which the Hurons had made their approaches, even after

hostilities had ceased.



It has already been stated that the upper half of the island

was a naked rock, and destitute of any other defenses than a

few scattered logs of driftwood.  They had selected this

point to make their descent, having borne the canoe through

the wood around the cataract for that purpose.  Placing

their arms in the little vessel a dozen men clinging to its

sides had trusted themselves to the direction of the canoe,

which was controlled by two of the most skillful warriors,

in attitudes that enabled them to command a view of the

dangerous passage.  Favored by this arrangement, they

touched the head of the island at that point which had

proved so fatal to their first adventurers, but with the

advantages of superior numbers, and the possession of

firearms.  That such had been the manner of their descent

was rendered quite apparent to Duncan; for they now bore the

light bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed it in

the water, near the mouth of the outer cavern.  As soon as

this change was made, the leader made signs to the prisoners

to descend and enter.



As resistance was impossible, and remonstrance useless,

Heyward set the example of submission, by leading the way

into the canoe, where he was soon seated with the sisters

and the still wondering David.  Notwithstanding the Hurons

were necessarily ignorant of the little channels among the

eddies and rapids of the stream, they knew the common signs

of such a navigation too well to commit any material

blunder.  When the pilot chosen for the task of guiding the

canoe had taken his station, the whole band plunged again

into the river, the vessel glided down the current, and in a

few moments the captives found themselves on the south bank

of the stream, nearly opposite to the point where they had

struck it the preceding evening.



Here was held another short but earnest consultation, during

which the horses, to whose panic their owners ascribed their

heaviest misfortune, were led from the cover of the woods,

and brought to the sheltered spot.  The band now divided.

The great chief, so often mentioned, mounting the charger of

Heyward, led the way directly across the river, followed by

most of his people, and disappeared in the woods, leaving

the prisoners in charge of six savages, at whose head was Le

Renard Subtil.  Duncan witnessed all their movements with

renewed uneasiness.



He had been fond of believing, from the uncommon forbearance

of the savages, that he was reserved as a prisoner to be

delivered to Montcalm.  As the thoughts of those who are in

misery seldom slumber, and the invention is never more

lively than when it is stimulated by hope, however feeble

and remote, he had even imagined that the parental feelings

of Munro were to be made instrumental in seducing him from

his duty to the king.  For though the French commander bore

a high character for courage and enterprise, he was also

thought to be expert in those political practises which do

not always respect the nicer obligations of morality, and

which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy of that

period.



All those busy and ingenious speculations were now

annihilated by the conduct of his captors.  That portion of

the band who had followed the huge warrior took the route

toward the foot of the Horican, and no other expectation was

left for himself and companions, than that they were to be

retained as hopeless captives by their savage conquerors.

Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in such an

emergency, to try the potency of gold he overcame his

reluctance to speak to Magua.  Addressing himself to his

former guide, who had now assumed the authority and manner

of one who was to direct the future movements of the party,

he said, in tones as friendly and confiding as he could

assume:



"I would speak to Magua, what is fit only for so great a

chief to hear."



The Indian turned his eyes on the young soldier scornfully,

as he answered:



"Speak; trees have no ears."



"But the red Hurons are not deaf; and counsel that is fit

for the great men of a nation would make the young warriors

drunk.  If Magua will not listen, the officer of the king

knows how to be silent."



The savage spoke carelessly to his comrades, who were

busied, after their awkward manner, in preparing the horses

for the reception of the sisters, and moved a little to one

side, whither by a cautious gesture he induced Heyward to

follow.



"Now, speak," he said; "if the words are such as Magua

should hear."



"Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the honorable

name given to him by his Canada fathers," commenced Heyward;

"I see his wisdom, and all that he has done for us, and

shall remember it when the hour to reward him arrives.  Yes!

Renard has proved that he is not only a great chief in

council, but one who knows how to deceive his enemies!"



"What has Renard done?" coldly demanded the Indian.



"What!  has he not seen that the woods were filled with

outlying parties of the enemies, and that the serpent could

not steal through them without being seen? Then, did he not

lose his path to blind the eyes of the Hurons?  Did he not

pretend to go back to his tribe, who had treated him ill,

and driven him from their wigwams like a dog?  And when he

saw what he wished to do, did we not aid him, by making a

false face, that the Hurons might think the white man

believed that his friend was his enemy? Is not all this

true?  And when Le Subtil had shut the eyes and stopped the

ears of his nation by his wisdom, did they not forget that

they had once done him wrong, and forced him to flee to the

Mohawks? And did they not leave him on the south side of the

river, with their prisoners, while they have gone foolishly

on the north? Does not Renard mean to turn like a fox on his

footsteps, and to carry to the rich and gray-headed

Scotchman his daughters?  Yes, Magua, I see it all, and I

have already been thinking how so much wisdom and honesty

should be repaid.  First, the chief of William Henry will

give as a great chief should for such a service.  The medal*

of Magua will no longer be on tin, but of beaten gold; his

horn will run over with powder; dollars will be as plenty in

his pouch as pebbles on the shore of Horican; and the deer

will lick his hand, for they will know it to be vain to fly

from the rifle he will carry! As for myself, I know not how

to exceed the gratitude of the Scotchman, but I--yes, I

will--"



* It has long been a practice with the whites to

conciliate the important men of the Indians by presenting

medals, which are worn in the place of their own rude

ornaments.  Those given by the English generally bear the

impression of the reigning king, and those given by the

Americans that of the president.



"What will the young chief, who comes from toward the sun,

give?" demanded the Huron, observing that Heyward hesitated

in his desire to end the enumeration of benefits with that

which might form the climax of an Indian's wishes.



"He will make the fire-water from the islands in the salt

lake flow before the wigwam of Magua, until the heart of the

Indian shall be lighter than the feathers of the humming-

bird, and his breath sweeter than the wild honeysuckle."



Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly proceeded

in this subtle speech.  When the young man mentioned the

artifice he supposed the Indian to have practised on his own

nation, the countenance of the listener was veiled in an

expression of cautious gravity.  At the allusion to the

injury which Duncan affected to believe had driven the Huron

from his native tribe, a gleam of such ungovernable ferocity

flashed from the other's eyes, as induced the adventurous

speaker to believe he had struck the proper chord.  And by

the time he reached the part where he so artfully blended

the thirst of vengeance with the desire of gain, he had, at

least, obtained a command of the deepest attention of the

savage.  The question put by Le Renard had been calm, and

with all the dignity of an Indian; but it was quite

apparent, by the thoughtful expression of the listener's

countenance, that the answer was most cunningly devised.

The Huron mused a few moments, and then laying his hand on

the rude bandages of his wounded shoulder, he said, with

some energy:



"Do friends make such marks?"



"Would 'La Longue Carbine' cut one so slight on an enemy?"



"Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love like snakes,

twisting themselves to strike?"



"Would 'Le Gros Serpent' have been heard by the ears of one

he wished to be deaf?"



"Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces of his

brothers?"



"Does he ever miss his aim, when seriously bent to kill?"

returned Duncan, smiling with well acted sincerity.



Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these

sententious questions and ready replies.  Duncan saw that

the Indian hesitated.  In order to complete his victory, he

was in the act of recommencing the enumeration of the

rewards, when Magua made an expressive gesture and said:



"Enough; Le Renard is a wise chief, and what he does will be

seen.  Go, and keep the mouth shut.  When Magua speaks, it

will be the time to answer."



Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion were

warily fastened on the rest of the band, fell back

immediately, in order to avoid the appearance of any

suspicious confederacy with their leader.  Magua approached

the horses, and affected to be well pleased with the

diligence and ingenuity of his comrades.  He then signed to

Heyward to assist the sisters into the saddles, for he

seldom deigned to use the English tongue, unless urged by

some motive of more than usual moment.



There was no longer any plausible pretext for delay; and

Duncan was obliged, however reluctantly, to comply.  As he

performed this office, he whispered his reviving hopes in

the ears of the trembling females, who, through dread of

encountering the savage countenances of their captors,

seldom raised their eyes from the ground.  The mare of David

had been taken with the followers of the large chief; in

consequence, its owner, as well as Duncan, was compelled to

journey on foot.  The latter did not, however, so much

regret this circumstance, as it might enable him to retard

the speed of the party; for he still turned his longing

looks in the direction of Fort Edward, in the vain

expectation of catching some sound from that quarter of the

forest, which might denote the approach of succor.  When all

were prepared, Magua made the signal to proceed, advancing

in front to lead the party in person.  Next followed David,

who was gradually coming to a true sense of his condition,

as the effects of the wound became less and less apparent.

The sisters rode in his rear, with Heyward at their side,

while the Indians flanked the party, and brought up the

close of the march, with a caution that seemed never to

tire.



In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence,

except when Heyward addressed some solitary word of comfort

to the females, or David gave vent to the moanings of his

spirit, in piteous exclamations, which he intended should

express the humility of resignation.  Their direction lay

toward the south, and in a course nearly opposite to the

road to William Henry.  Notwithstanding this apparent

adherence in Magua to the original determination of his

conquerors, Heyward could not believe his tempting bait was

so soon forgotten; and he knew the windings of an Indian's

path too well to suppose that its apparent course led

directly to its object, when artifice was at all necessary.

Mile after mile was, however, passed through the boundless

woods, in this painful manner, without any prospect of a

termination to their journey.  Heyward watched the sun, as

he darted his meridian rays through the branches of the

trees, and pined for the moment when the policy of Magua

should change their route to one more favorable to his

hopes.  Sometimes he fancied the wary savage, despairing of

passing the army of Montcalm in safety, was holding his way

toward a well-known border settlement, where a distinguished

officer of the crown, and a favored friend of the Six

Nations, held his large possessions, as well as his usual

residence.  To be delivered into the hands of Sir William

Johnson was far preferable to being led into the wilds of

Canada; but in order to effect even the former, it would be

necessary to traverse the forest for many weary leagues,

each step of which was carrying him further from the scene

of the war, and, consequently, from the post, not only of

honor, but of duty.



Cora alone remembered the parting injunctions of the scout,

and whenever an opportunity offered, she stretched forth her

arm to bend aside the twigs that met her hands.  But the

vigilance of the Indians rendered this act of precaution

both difficult and dangerous.  She was often defeated in her

purpose, by encountering their watchful eyes, when it became

necessary to feign an alarm she did not feel, and occupy the

limb by some gesture of feminine apprehension.  Once, and

once only, was she completely successful; when she broke

down the bough of a large sumach, and by a sudden thought,

let her glove fall at the same instant.  This sign, intended

for those that might follow, was observed by one of her

conductors, who restored the glove, broke the remaining

branches of the bush in such a manner that it appeared to

proceed from the struggling of some beast in its branches,

and then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with a look so

significant, that it put an effectual end to these stolen

memorials of their passage.



As there were horses, to leave the prints of their

footsteps, in both bands of the Indians, this interruption

cut off any probable hopes of assistance being conveyed

through the means of their trail.



Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance had there been

anything encouraging in the gloomy reserve of Magua.  But

the savage, during all this time, seldom turned to look at

his followers, and never spoke.  With the sun for his only

guide, or aided by such blind marks as are only known to the

sagacity of a native, he held his way along the barrens of

pine, through occasional little fertile vales, across brooks

and rivulets, and over undulating hills, with the accuracy

of instinct, and nearly with the directness of a bird.  He

never seemed to hesitate.  Whether the path was hardly

distinguishable, whether it disappeared, or whether it lay

beaten and plain before him, made no sensible difference in

his speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not

affect him.  Whenever the eyes of the wearied travelers rose

from the decayed leaves over which they trod, his dark form

was to be seen glancing among the stems of the trees in

front, his head immovably fastened in a forward position,

with the light plume on his crest fluttering in a current of

air, made solely by the swiftness of his own motion.



But all this diligence and speed were not without an object.

After crossing a low vale, through which a gushing brook

meandered, he suddenly ascended a hill, so steep and

difficult of ascent, that the sisters were compelled to

alight in order to follow.  When the summit was gained, they

found themselves on a level spot, but thinly covered with

trees, under one of which Magua had thrown his dark form, as

if willing and ready to seek that rest which was so much

needed by the whole party.







CHAPTER 11



"Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him."--Shylock



The Indian had selected for this desirable purpose one of

those steep, pyramidal hills, which bear a strong

resemblance to artificial mounds, and which so frequently

occur in the valleys of America.  The one in question was

high and precipitous; its top flattened, as usual; but with

one of its sides more than ordinarily irregular.  It

possessed no other apparent advantage for a resting place,

than in its elevation and form, which might render defense

easy, and surprise nearly impossible.  As Heyward, however,

no longer expected that rescue which time and distance now

rendered so improbable, he regarded these little

peculiarities with an eye devoid of interest, devoting

himself entirely to the comfort and condolence of his

feebler companions.  The Narragansetts were suffered to

browse on the branches of the trees and shrubs that were

thinly scattered over the summit of the hill, while the

remains of their provisions were spread under the shade of a

beech, that stretched its horizontal limbs like a canopy

above them.



Notwithstanding the swiftness of their flight, one of the

Indians had found an opportunity to strike a straggling fawn

with an arrow, and had borne the more preferable fragments

of the victim, patiently on his shoulders, to the stopping

place.  Without any aid from the science of cookery, he was

immediately employed, in common with his fellows, in gorging

himself with this digestible sustenance.  Magua alone sat

apart, without participating in the revolting meal, and

apparently buried in the deepest thought.



This abstinence, so remarkable in an Indian, when he

possessed the means of satisfying hunger, at length

attracted the notice of Heyward.  The young man willingly

believed that the Huron deliberated on the most eligible

manner of eluding the vigilance of his associates.  With a

view to assist his plans by any suggestion of his own, and

to strengthen the temptation, he left the beech, and

straggled, as if without an object, to the spot where Le

Renard was seated.



"Has not Magua kept the sun in his face long enough to

escape all danger from the Canadians?" he asked, as though

no longer doubtful of the good intelligence established

between them; "and will not the chief of William Henry be

better pleased to see his daughters before another night may

have hardened his heart to their loss, to make him less

liberal in his reward?"



"Do the pale faces love their children less in the morning

than at night?" asked the Indian, coldly.



"By no means," returned Heyward, anxious to recall his

error, if he had made one; "the white man may, and does

often, forget the burial place of his fathers; he sometimes

ceases to remember those he should love, and has promised to

cherish; but the affection of a parent for his child is

never permitted to die."



"And is the heart of the white-headed chief soft, and will

he think of the babes that his squaws have given him? He is

hard on his warriors and his eyes are made of stone?"



"He is severe to the idle and wicked, but to the sober and

deserving he is a leader, both just and humane.  I have

known many fond and tender parents, but never have I seen a

man whose heart was softer toward his child.  You have seen

the gray-head in front of his warriors, Magua; but I have

seen his eyes swimming in water, when he spoke of those

children who are now in your power!"



Heyward paused, for he knew not how to construe the

remarkable expression that gleamed across the swarthy

features of the attentive Indian.  At first it seemed as if

the remembrance of the promised reward grew vivid in his

mind, while he listened to the sources of parental feeling

which were to assure its possession; but, as Duncan

proceeded, the expression of joy became so fiercely

malignant that it was impossible not to apprehend it

proceeded from some passion more sinister than avarice.



"Go," said the Huron, suppressing the alarming exhibition in

an instant, in a death-like calmness of countenance; "go to

the dark-haired daughter, and say, 'Magua waits to speak'

The father will remember what the child promises."



Duncan, who interpreted this speech to express a wish for

some additional pledge that the promised gifts should not be

withheld, slowly and reluctantly repaired to the place where

the sisters were now resting from their fatigue, to

communicate its purport to Cora.



"You understand the nature of an Indian's wishes," he

concluded, as he led her toward the place where she was

expected, "and must be prodigal of your offers of powder and

blankets.  Ardent spirits are, however, the most prized by

such as he; nor would it be amiss to add some boon from your

own hand, with that grace you so well know how to practise.

Remember, Cora, that on your presence of mind and ingenuity,

even your life, as well as that of Alice, may in some

measure depend."



"Heyward, and yours!"



"Mine is of little moment; it is already sold to my king,

and is a prize to be seized by any enemy who may possess the

power.  I have no father to expect me, and but few friends

to lament a fate which I have courted with the insatiable

longings of youth after distinction.  But hush! we approach

the Indian.  Magua, the lady with whom you wish to speak, is

here."



The Indian rose slowly from his seat, and stood for near a

minute silent and motionless.  He then signed with his hand

for Heyward to retire, saying, coldly:



"When the Huron talks to the women, his tribe shut their

ears."



Duncan, still lingering, as if refusing to comply, Coras

said, with a calm smile:



"You hear, Heyward, and delicacy at least should urge you to

retire.  Go to Alice, and comfort her with our reviving

prospects."



She waited until he had departed, and then turning to the

native, with the dignity of her sex in her voice and manner,

she added: "What would Le Renard say to the daughter of

Munro?"



"Listen," said the Indian, laying his hand firmly upon her

arm, as if willing to draw her utmost attention to his

words; a movement that Cora as firmly but quietly repulsed,

by extricating the limb from his grasp: "Magua was born a

chief and a warrior among the red Hurons of the lakes; he

saw the suns of twenty summers make the snows of twenty

winters run off in the streams before he saw a pale face;

and he was happy!  Then his Canada fathers came into the

woods, and taught him to drink the fire-water, and he became

a rascal.  The Hurons drove him from the graves of his

fathers, as they would chase the hunted buffalo.  He ran

down the shores of the lakes, and followed their outlet to

the 'city of cannon' There he hunted and fished, till the

people chased him again through the woods into the arms of

his enemies.  The chief, who was born a Huron, was at last a

warrior among the Mohawks!"



"Something like this I had heard before," said Cora,

observing that he paused to suppress those passions which

began to burn with too bright a flame, as he recalled the

recollection of his supposed injuries.



"Was it the fault of Le Renard that his head was not made of

rock? Who gave him the fire-water? who made him a villain?

'Twas the pale faces, the people of your own color."



"And am I answerable that thoughtless and unprincipled men

exist, whose shades of countenance may resemble mine?" Cora

calmly demanded of the excited savage.



"No; Magua is a man, and not a fool; such as you never open

their lips to the burning stream: the Great Spirit has given

you wisdom!"



"What, then, have I do to, or say, in the matter of your

misfortunes, not to say of your errors?"



"Listen," repeated the Indian, resuming his earnest

attitude; "when his English and French fathers dug up the

hatchet, Le Renard struck the war-post of the Mohawks, and

went out against his own nation.  The pale faces have driven

the red-skins from their hunting grounds, and now when they

fight, a white man leads the way.  The old chief at Horican,

your father, was the great captain of our war-party.  He

said to the Mohawks do this, and do that, and he was minded.

He made a law, that if an Indian swallowed the fire-water,

and came into the cloth wigwams of his warriors, it should

not be forgotten.  Magua foolishly opened his mouth, and the

hot liquor led him into the cabin of Munro.  What did the

gray-head? let his daughter say."



"He forgot not his words, and did justice, by punishing the

offender," said the undaunted daughter.



"Justice!" repeated the Indian, casting an oblique glance of

the most ferocious expression at her unyielding countenance;

"is it justice to make evil and then punish for it? Magua

was not himself; it was the fire-water that spoke and acted

for him! but Munro did believe it.  The Huron chief was tied

up before all the pale-faced warriors, and whipped like a

dog."



Cora remained silent, for she knew not how to palliate this

imprudent severity on the part of her father in a manner to

suit the comprehension of an Indian.



"See!" continued Magua, tearing aside the slight calico that

very imperfectly concealed his painted breast; "here are

scars given by knives and bullets--of these a warrior may

boast before his nation; but the gray-head has left marks on

the back of the Huron chief that he must hide like a squaw,

under this painted cloth of the whites."



"I had thought," resumed Cora, "that an Indian warrior was

patient, and that his spirit felt not and knew not the pain

his body suffered."



"When the Chippewas tied Magua to the stake, and cut this

gash," said the other, laying his finger on a deep scar,

"the Huron laughed in their faces, and told them, Women

struck so light!  His spirit was then in the clouds!  But

when he felt the blows of Munro, his spirit lay under the

birch.  The spirit of a Huron is never drunk; it remembers

forever!"



"But it may be appeased.  If my father has done you this

injustice, show him how an Indian can forgive an injury, and

take back his daughters.  You have heard from Major Heyward

--"



Magua shook his head, forbidding the repetition of offers he

so much despised.



"What would you have?" continued Cora, after a most painful

pause, while the conviction forced itself on her mind that

the too sanguine and generous Duncan had been cruelly

deceived by the cunning of the savage.



"What a Huron loves--good for good; bad for bad!"



"You would, then, revenge the injury inflicted by Munro on

his helpless daughters.  Would it not be more like a man to

go before his face, and take the satisfaction of a warrior?"



"The arms of the pale faces are long, and their knives

sharp!" returned the savage, with a malignant laugh: "why

should Le Renard go among the muskets of his warriors, when

he holds the spirit of the gray-head in his hand?"



"Name your intention, Magua," said Cora, struggling with

herself to speak with steady calmness.  "Is it to lead us

prisoners to the woods, or do you contemplate even some

greater evil? Is there no reward, no means of palliating the

injury, and of softening your heart? At least, release my

gentle sister, and pour out all your malice on me.  Purchase

wealth by her safety and satisfy your revenge with a single

victim.  The loss of both his daughters might bring the aged

man to his grave, and where would then be the satisfaction

of Le Renard?"



"Listen," said the Indian again.  "The light eyes can go

back to the Horican, and tell the old chief what has been

done, if the dark-haired woman will swear by the Great

Spirit of her fathers to tell no lie."



"What must I promise?" demanded Cora, still maintaining a

secret ascendancy over the fierce native by the collected

and feminine dignity of her presence.



"When Magua left his people his wife was given to another

chief; he has now made friends with the Hurons, and will go

back to the graves of his tribe, on the shores of the great

lake.  Let the daughter of the English chief follow, and

live in his wigwam forever."



However revolting a proposal of such a character might prove

to Cora, she retained, notwithstanding her powerful disgust,

sufficient self-command to reply, without betraying the

weakness.



"And what pleasure would Magua find in sharing his cabin

with a wife he did not love; one who would be of a nation

and color different from his own? It would be better to take

the gold of Munro, and buy the heart of some Huron maid with

his gifts."



The Indian made no reply for near a minute, but bent his

fierce looks on the countenance of Cora, in such wavering

glances, that her eyes sank with shame, under an impression

that for the first time they had encountered an expression

that no chaste female might endure.  While she was shrinking

within herself, in dread of having her ears wounded by some

proposal still more shocking than the last, the voice of

Magua answered, in its tones of deepest malignancy:



"When the blows scorched the back of the Huron, he would

know where to find a woman to feel the smart.  The daughter

of Munro would draw his water, hoe his corn, and cook his

venison.  The body of the gray-head would sleep among his

cannon, but his heart would lie within reach of the knife of

Le Subtil."



"Monster! well dost thou deserve thy treacherous name,"

cried Cora, in an ungovernable burst of filial indignation.

"None but a fiend could meditate such a vengeance.  But thou

overratest thy power!  You shall find it is, in truth, the

heart of Munro you hold, and that it will defy your utmost

malice!"



The Indian answered this bold defiance by a ghastly smile,

that showed an unaltered purpose, while he motioned her

away, as if to close the conference forever.  Cora, already

regretting her precipitation, was obliged to comply, for

Magua instantly left the spot, and approached his gluttonous

comrades.  Heyward flew to the side of the agitated female,

and demanded the result of a dialogue that he had watched at

a distance with so much interest.  But, unwilling to alarm

the fears of Alice, she evaded a direct reply, betraying

only by her anxious looks fastened on the slightest

movements of her captors.  To the reiterated and earnest

questions of her sister concerning their probable

destination, she made no other answer than by pointing

toward the dark group, with an agitation she could not

control, and murmuring as she folded Alice to her bosom.



"There, there; read our fortunes in their faces; we shall

see; we shall see!"



The action, and the choked utterance of Cora, spoke more

impressively than any words, and quickly drew the attention

of her companions on that spot where her own was riveted

with an intenseness that nothing but the importance of the

stake could create.



When Magua reached the cluster of lolling savages, who,

gorged with their disgusting meal, lay stretched on the

earth in brutal indulgence, he commenced speaking with the

dignity of an Indian chief.  The first syllables he uttered

had the effect to cause his listeners to raise themselves in

attitudes of respectful attention.  As the Huron used his

native language, the prisoners, notwithstanding the caution

of the natives had kept them within the swing of their

tomahawks, could only conjecture the substance of his

harangue from the nature of those significant gestures with

which an Indian always illustrates his eloquence.



At first, the language, as well as the action of Magua,

appeared calm and deliberative.  When he had succeeded in

sufficiently awakening the attention of his comrades,

Heyward fancied, by his pointing so frequently toward the

direction of the great lakes, that he spoke of the land of

their fathers, and of their distant tribe.  Frequent

indications of applause escaped the listeners, who, as they

uttered the expressive "Hugh!" looked at each other in

commendation of the speaker.  Le Renard was too skillful to

neglect his advantage.  He now spoke of the long and painful

route by which they had left those spacious grounds and

happy villages, to come and battle against the enemies of

their Canadian fathers.  He enumerated the warriors of the

party; their several merits; their frequent services to the

nation; their wounds, and the number of the scalps they had

taken.  Whenever he alluded to any present (and the subtle

Indian neglected none), the dark countenance of the

flattered individual gleamed with exultation, nor did he

even hesitate to assert the truth of the words, by gestures

of applause and confirmation.  Then the voice of the speaker

fell, and lost the loud, animated tones of triumph with

which he had enumerated their deeds of success and victory.

He described the cataract of Glenn's; the impregnable

position of its rocky island, with its caverns and its

numerous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of "La

Longue Carabine," and paused until the forest beneath them

had sent up the last echo of a loud and long yell, with

which the hated appellation was received.  He pointed toward

the youthful military captive, and described the death of a

favorite warrior, who had been precipitated into the deep

ravine by his hand.  He not only mentioned the fate of him

who, hanging between heaven and earth, had presented such a

spectacle of horror to the whole band, but he acted anew the

terrors of his situation, his resolution and his death, on

the branches of a sapling; and, finally, he rapidly

recounted the manner in which each of their friends had

fallen, never failing to touch upon their courage, and their

most acknowledged virtues.  When this recital of events was

ended, his voice once more changed, and became plaintive and

even musical, in its low guttural sounds.  He now spoke of

the wives and children of the slain; their destitution;

their misery, both physical and moral; their distance; and,

at last, of their unavenged wrongs.  Then suddenly lifting

his voice to a pitch of terrific energy, he concluded by

demanding:



"Are the Hurons dogs to bear this? Who shall say to the wife

of Menowgua that the fishes have his scalp, and that his

nation have not taken revenge!  Who will dare meet the

mother of Wassawattimie, that scornful woman, with his hands

clean!  What shall be said to the old men when they ask us

for scalps, and we have not a hair from a white head to give

them!  The women will point their fingers at us.  There is a

dark spot on the names of the Hurons, and it must be hid in

blood!"  His voice was no longer audible in the burst of

rage which now broke into the air, as if the wood, instead

of containing so small a band, was filled with the nation.

During the foregoing address the progress of the speaker was

too plainly read by those most interested in his success

through the medium of the countenances of the men he

addressed.  They had answered his melancholy and mourning by

sympathy and sorrow; his assertions, by gestures of

confirmation; and his boasting, with the exultation of

savages.  When he spoke of courage, their looks were firm

and responsive; when he alluded to their injuries, their

eyes kindled with fury; when he mentioned the taunts of the

women, they dropped their heads in shame; but when he

pointed out their means of vengeance, he struck a chord

which never failed to thrill in the breast of an Indian.

With the first intimation that it was within their reach,

the whole band sprang upon their feet as one man; giving

utterance to their rage in the most frantic cries, they

rushed upon their prisoners in a body with drawn knives and

uplifted tomahawks.  Heyward threw himself between the

sisters and the foremost, whom he grappled with a desperate

strength that for a moment checked his violence.  This

unexpected resistance gave Magua time to interpose, and with

rapid enunciation and animated gesture, he drew the

attention of the band again to himself.  In that language he

knew so well how to assume, he diverted his comrades from

their instant purpose, and invited them to prolong the

misery of their victims.  His proposal was received with

acclamations, and executed with the swiftness of thought.



Two powerful warriors cast themselves on Heyward, while

another was occupied in securing the less active singing-

master.  Neither of the captives, however, submitted without

a desperate, though fruitless, struggle.  Even David hurled

his assailant to the earth; nor was Heyward secured until

the victory over his companion enabled the Indians to direct

their united force to that object.  He was then bound and

fastened to the body of the sapling, on whose branches Magua

had acted the pantomime of the falling Huron.  When the

young soldier regained his recollection, he had the painful

certainty before his eyes that a common fate was intended

for the whole party.  On his right was Cora in a durance

similar to his own, pale and agitated, but with an eye whose

steady look still read the proceedings of their enemies.  On

his left, the withes which bound her to a pine, performed

that office for Alice which her trembling limbs refused, and

alone kept her fragile form from sinking.  Her hands were

clasped before her in prayer, but instead of looking upward

toward that power which alone could rescue them, her

unconscious looks wandered to the countenance of Duncan with

infantile dependency.  David had contended, and the novelty

of the circumstance held him silent, in deliberation on the

propriety of the unusual occurrence.



The vengeance of the Hurons had now taken a new direction,

and they prepared to execute it with that barbarous

ingenuity with which they were familiarized by the practise

of centuries.  Some sought knots, to raise the blazing pile;

one was riving the splinters of pine, in order to pierce the

flesh of their captives with the burning fragments; and

others bent the tops of two saplings to the earth, in order

to suspend Heyward by the arms between the recoiling

branches.  But the vengeance of Magua sought a deeper and

more malignant enjoyment.



While the less refined monsters of the band prepared, before

the eyes of those who were to suffer, these well-known and

vulgar means of torture, he approached Cora, and pointed

out, with the most malign expression of countenance, the

speedy fate that awaited her:



"Ha!" he added, "what says the daughter of Munro?  Her head

is too good to find a pillow in the wigwam of Le Renard;

will she like it better when it rolls about this hill a

plaything for the wolves? Her bosom cannot nurse the

children of a Huron; she will see it spit upon by Indians!"



"What means the monster!" demanded the astonished Heyward.



"Nothing!" was the firm reply.  "He is a savage, a barbarous

and ignorant savage, and knows not what he does.  Let us

find leisure, with our dying breath, to ask for him

penitence and pardon."



"Pardon!" echoed the fierce Huron, mistaking in his anger,

the meaning of her words; "the memory of an Indian is no

longer than the arm of the pale faces; his mercy shorter

than their justice!  Say; shall I send the yellow hair to

her father, and will you follow Magua to the great lakes, to

carry his water, and feed him with corn?"



Cora beckoned him away, with an emotion of disgust she could

not control.



"Leave me," she said, with a solemnity that for a moment

checked the barbarity of the Indian; "you mingle bitterness

in my prayers; you stand between me and my God!"



The slight impression produced on the savage was, however,

soon forgotten, and he continued pointing, with taunting

irony, toward Alice.



"Look! the child weeps!  She is too young to die!  Send her

to Munro, to comb his gray hairs, and keep life in the heart

of the old man."



Cora could not resist the desire to look upon her youthful

sister, in whose eyes she met an imploring glance, that

betrayed the longings of nature.



"What says he, dearest Cora?" asked the trembling voice of

Alice.  "Did he speak of sending me to our father?"



For many moments the elder sister looked upon the younger,

with a countenance that wavered with powerful and contending

emotions.  At length she spoke, though her tones had lost

their rich and calm fullness, in an expression of tenderness

that seemed maternal.



"Alice," she said, "the Huron offers us both life, nay, more

than both; he offers to restore Duncan, our invaluable

Duncan, as well as you, to our friends--to our father--

to our heart-stricken, childless father, if I will bow down

this rebellious, stubborn pride of mine, and consent--"



Her voice became choked, and clasping her hands, she looked

upward, as if seeking, in her agony, intelligence from a

wisdom that was infinite.



"Say on," cried Alice; "to what, dearest Cora? Oh! that the

proffer were made to me! to save you, to cheer our aged

father, to restore Duncan, how cheerfully could I die!"



"Die!" repeated Cora, with a calmer and firmer voice "that

were easy! Perhaps the alternative may not be less so.  He

would have me," she continued, her accents sinking under a

deep consciousness of the degradation of the proposal,

"follow him to the wilderness; go to the habitations of the

Hurons; to remain there; in short, to become his wife!

Speak, then, Alice; child of my affections! sister of my

love!  And you, too, Major Heyward, aid my weak reason with

your counsel.  Is life to be purchased by such a sacrifice?

Will you, Alice, receive it at my hands at such a price?

And you, Duncan, guide me; control me between you; for I am

wholly yours!"



"Would I!" echoed the indignant and astonished youth.

"Cora! Cora! you jest with our misery!  Name not the horrid

alternative again; the thought itself is worse than a

thousand deaths."



"That such would be your answer, I well knew!" exclaimed

Cora, her cheeks flushing, and her dark eyes once more

sparkling with the lingering emotions of a woman.  "What

says my Alice? for her will I submit without another

murmur."



Although both Heyward and Cora listened with painful

suspense and the deepest attention, no sounds were heard in

reply.  It appeared as if the delicate and sensitive form of

Alice would shrink into itself, as she listened to this

proposal.  Her arms had fallen lengthwise before her, the

fingers moving in slight convulsions; her head dropped upon

her bosom, and her whole person seemed suspended against the

tree, looking like some beautiful emblem of the wounded

delicacy of her sex, devoid of animation and yet keenly

conscious.  In a few moments, however, her head began to

move slowly, in a sign of deep, unconquerable

disapprobation.



"No, no, no; better that we die as we have lived, together!"



"Then die!" shouted Magua, hurling his tomahawk with

violence at the unresisting speaker, and gnashing his teeth

with a rage that could no longer be bridled at this sudden

exhibition of firmness in the one he believed the weakest of

the party.  The axe cleaved the air in front of Heyward, and

cutting some of the flowing ringlets of Alice, quivered in

the tree above her head.  The sight maddened Duncan to

desperation.  Collecting all his energies in one effort he

snapped the twigs which bound him and rushed upon another

savage, who was preparing, with loud yells and a more

deliberate aim, to repeat the blow.  They encountered,

grappled, and fell to the earth together.  The naked body of

his antagonist afforded Heyward no means of holding his

adversary, who glided from his grasp, and rose again with

one knee on his chest, pressing him down with the weight of

a giant.  Duncan already saw the knife gleaming in the air,

when a whistling sound swept past him, and was rather

accompanied than followed by the sharp crack of a rifle.  He

felt his breast relieved from the load it had endured; he

saw the savage expression of his adversary's countenance

change to a look of vacant wildness, when the Indian fell

dead on the faded leaves by his side.







CHAPTER 12



"Clo.--I am gone, sire, And anon, sire, I'll be with you

again."--Twelfth Night



The Hurons stood aghast at this sudden visitation of death

on one of their band.  But as they regarded the fatal

accuracy of an aim which had dared to immolate an enemy at

so much hazard to a friend, the name of "La Longue Carabine"

burst simultaneously from every lip, and was succeeded by a

wild and a sort of plaintive howl.  The cry was answered by

a loud shout from a little thicket, where the incautious

party had piled their arms; and at the next moment, Hawkeye,

too eager to load the rifle he had regained, was seen

advancing upon them, brandishing the clubbed weapon, and

cutting the air with wide and powerful sweeps.  Bold and

rapid as was the progress of the scout, it was exceeded by

that of a light and vigorous form which, bounding past him,

leaped, with incredible activity and daring, into the very

center of the Hurons, where it stood, whirling a tomahawk,

and flourishing a glittering knife, with fearful menaces, in

front of Cora.  Quicker than the thoughts could follow those

unexpected and audacious movements, an image, armed in the

emblematic panoply of death, glided before their eyes, and

assumed a threatening attitude at the other's side.  The

savage tormentors recoiled before these warlike intruders,

and uttered, as they appeared in such quick succession, the

often repeated and peculiar exclamations of surprise,

followed by the well-known and dreaded appellations of:



"Le Cerf Agile!  Le Gros Serpent!"



But the wary and vigilant leader of the Hurons was not so

easily disconcerted.  Casting his keen eyes around the

little plain, he comprehended the nature of the assault at a

glance, and encouraging his followers by his voice as well

as by his example, he unsheathed his long and dangerous

knife, and rushed with a loud whoop upon the expected

Chingachgook.  It was the signal for a general combat.

Neither party had firearms, and the contest was to be

decided in the deadliest manner, hand to hand, with weapons

of offense, and none of defense.



Uncas answered the whoop, and leaping on an enemy, with a

single, well-directed blow of his tomahawk, cleft him to the

brain.  Heyward tore the weapon of Magua from the sapling,

and rushed eagerly toward the fray.  As the combatants were

now equal in number, each singled an opponent from the

adverse band.  The rush and blows passed with the fury of a

whirlwind, and the swiftness of lightning.  Hawkeye soon got

another enemy within reach of his arm, and with one sweep of

his formidable weapon he beat down the slight and

inartificial defenses of his antagonist, crushing him to the

earth with the blow.  Heyward ventured to hurl the tomahawk

he had seized, too ardent to await the moment of closing.

It struck the Indian he had selected on the forehead, and

checked for an instant his onward rush.  Encouraged by this

slight advantage, the impetuous young man continued his

onset, and sprang upon his enemy with naked hands.  A single

instant was enough to assure him of the rashness of the

measure, for he immediately found himself fully engaged,

with all his activity and courage, in endeavoring to ward

the desperate thrusts made with the knife of the Huron.

Unable longer to foil an enemy so alert and vigilant, he

threw his arms about him, and succeeded in pinning the limbs

of the other to his side, with an iron grasp, but one that

was far too exhausting to himself to continue long.  In this

extremity he heard a voice near him, shouting:



"Extarminate the varlets! no quarter to an accursed Mingo!"



At the next moment, the breech of Hawkeye's rifle fell on

the naked head of his adversary, whose muscles appeared to

wither under the shock, as he sank from the arms of Duncan,

flexible and motionless.



When Uncas had brained his first antagonist, he turned, like

a hungry lion, to seek another.  The fifth and only Huron

disengaged at the first onset had paused a moment, and then

seeing that all around him were employed in the deadly

strife, he had sought, with hellish vengeance, to complete

the baffled work of revenge.  Raising a shout of triumph, he

sprang toward the defenseless Cora, sending his keen axe as

the dreadful precursor of his approach.  The tomahawk grazed

her shoulder, and cutting the withes which bound her to the

tree, left the maiden at liberty to fly.  She eluded the

grasp of the savage, and reckless of her own safety, threw

herself on the bosom of Alice, striving with convulsed and

ill-directed fingers, to tear asunder the twigs which

confined the person of her sister.  Any other than a monster

would have relented at such an act of generous devotion to

the best and purest affection; but the breast of the Huron

was a stranger to sympathy.  Seizing Cora by the rich

tresses which fell in confusion about her form, he tore her

from her frantic hold, and bowed her down with brutal

violence to her knees.  The savage drew the flowing curls

through his hand, and raising them on high with an

outstretched arm, he passed the knife around the exquisitely

molded head of his victim, with a taunting and exulting

laugh.  But he purchased this moment of fierce gratification

with the loss of the fatal opportunity.  It was just then

the sight caught the eye of Uncas.  Bounding from his

footsteps he appeared for an instant darting through the air

and descending in a ball he fell on the chest of his enemy,

driving him many yards from the spot, headlong and

prostrate.  The violence of the exertion cast the young

Mohican at his side.  They arose together, fought, and bled,

each in his turn.  But the conflict was soon decided; the

tomahawk of Heyward and the rifle of Hawkeye descended on

the skull of the Huron, at the same moment that the knife of

Uncas reached his heart.



The battle was now entirely terminated with the exception of

the protracted struggle between "Le Renard Subtil" and "Le

Gros Serpent."  Well did these barbarous warriors prove that

they deserved those significant names which had been

bestowed for deeds in former wars.  When they engaged, some

little time was lost in eluding the quick and vigorous

thrusts which had been aimed at their lives.  Suddenly

darting on each other, they closed, and came to the earth,

twisted together like twining serpents, in pliant and subtle

folds.  At the moment when the victors found themselves

unoccupied, the spot where these experienced and desperate

combatants lay could only be distinguished by a cloud of

dust and leaves, which moved from the center of the little

plain toward its boundary, as if raised by the passage of a

whirlwind.  Urged by the different motives of filial

affection, friendship and gratitude, Heyward and his

companions rushed with one accord to the place, encircling

the little canopy of dust which hung above the warriors.  In

vain did Uncas dart around the cloud, with a wish to strike

his knife into the heart of his father's foe; the

threatening rifle of Hawkeye was raised and suspended in

vain, while Duncan endeavored to seize the limbs of the


Huron with hands that appeared to have lost their power.

Covered as they were with dust and blood, the swift

evolutions of the combatants seemed to incorporate their

bodies into one.  The death-like looking figure of the

Mohican, and the dark form of the Huron, gleamed before

their eyes in such quick and confused succession, that the

friends of the former knew not where to plant the succoring

blow.  It is true there were short and fleeting moments,

when the fiery eyes of Magua were seen glittering, like the

fabled organs of the basilisk through the dusty wreath by

which he was enveloped, and he read by those short and

deadly glances the fate of the combat in the presence of his

enemies; ere, however, any hostile hand could descend on his

devoted head, its place was filled by the scowling visage of

Chingachgook.  In this manner the scene of the combat was

removed from the center of the little plain to its verge.

The Mohican now found an opportunity to make a powerful

thrust with his knife; Magua suddenly relinquished his

grasp, and fell backward without motion, and seemingly

without life.  His adversary leaped on his feet, making the

arches of the forest ring with the sounds of triumph.



"Well done for the Delawares! victory to the Mohicans!"

cried Hawkeye, once more elevating the butt of the long and

fatal rifle; "a finishing blow from a man without a cross

will never tell against his honor, nor rob him of his right

to the scalp."



But at the very moment when the dangerous weapon was in the

act of descending, the subtle Huron rolled swiftly from

beneath the danger, over the edge of the precipice, and

falling on his feet, was seen leaping, with a single bound,

into the center of a thicket of low bushes, which clung

along its sides.  The Delawares, who had believed their

enemy dead, uttered their exclamation of surprise, and were

following with speed and clamor, like hounds in open view of

the deer, when a shrill and peculiar cry from the scout

instantly changed their purpose, and recalled them to the

summit of the hill.



"'Twas like himself!" cried the inveterate forester, whose

prejudices contributed so largely to veil his natural sense

of justice in all matters which concerned the Mingoes; "a

lying and deceitful varlet as he is.  An honest Delaware

now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain still, and

been knocked on the head, but these knavish Maquas cling to

life like so many cats-o'-the-mountain.  Let him go--let

him go; 'tis but one man, and he without rifle or bow, many

a long mile from his French commerades; and like a rattler

that lost his fangs, he can do no further mischief, until

such time as he, and we too, may leave the prints of our

moccasins over a long reach of sandy plain.  See, Uncas," he

added, in Delaware, "your father if flaying the scalps

already.  It may be well to go round and feel the vagabonds

that are left, or we may have another of them loping through

the woods, and screeching like a jay that has been winged."



So saying the honest but implacable scout made the circuit

of the dead, into whose senseless bosoms he thrust his long

knife, with as much coolness as though they had been so many

brute carcasses.  He had, however, been anticipated by the

elder Mohican, who had already torn the emblems of victory

from the unresisting heads of the slain.



But Uncas, denying his habits, we had almost said his

nature, flew with instinctive delicacy, accompanied by

Heyward, to the assistance of the females, and quickly

releasing Alice, placed her in the arms of Cora.  We shall

not attempt to describe the gratitude to the Almighty

Disposer of Events which glowed in the bosoms of the

sisters, who were thus unexpectedly restored to life and to

each other.  Their thanksgivings were deep and silent; the

offerings of their gentle spirits burning brightest and

purest on the secret altars of their hearts; and their

renovated and more earthly feelings exhibiting themselves in

long and fervent though speechless caresses.  As Alice rose

from her knees, where she had sunk by the side of Cora, she

threw herself on the bosom of the latter, and sobbed aloud

the name of their aged father, while her soft, dove-like

eyes, sparkled with the rays of hope.



"We are saved! we are saved!" she murmured; "to return to

the arms of our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be

broken with grief.  And you, too, Cora, my sister, my more

than sister, my mother; you, too, are spared.  And Duncan,"

she added, looking round upon the youth with a smile of

ineffable innocence, "even our own brave and noble Duncan

has escaped without a hurt."



To these ardent and nearly innocent words Cora made no other

answer than by straining the youthful speaker to her heart,

as she bent over her in melting tenderness.  The manhood of

Heyward felt no shame in dropping tears over this spectacle

of affectionate rapture; and Uncas stood, fresh and blood-

stained from the combat, a calm, and, apparently, an unmoved

looker-on, it is true, but with eyes that had already lost

their fierceness, and were beaming with a sympathy that

elevated him far above the intelligence, and advanced him

probably centuries before, the practises of his nation.



During this display of emotions so natural in their

situation, Hawkeye, whose vigilant distrust had satisfied

itself that the Hurons, who disfigured the heavenly scene,

no longer possessed the power to interrupt its harmony,

approached David, and liberated him from the bonds he had,

until that moment, endured with the most exemplary patience.



"There," exclaimed the scout, casting the last withe behind

him, "you are once more master of your own limbs, though you

seem not to use them with much greater judgment than that in

which they were first fashioned.  If advice from one who is

not older than yourself, but who, having lived most of his

time in the wilderness, may be said to have experience

beyond his years, will give no offense, you are welcome to

my thoughts; and these are, to part with the little tooting

instrument in your jacket to the first fool you meet with,

and buy some we'pon with the money, if it be only the barrel

of a horseman's pistol.  By industry and care, you might

thus come to some prefarment; for by this time, I should

think, your eyes would plainly tell you that a carrion crow

is a better bird than a mocking-thresher.  The one will, at

least, remove foul sights from before the face of man, while

the other is only good to brew disturbances in the woods, by

cheating the ears of all that hear them."



"Arms and the clarion for the battle, but the song of

thanksgiving to the victory!" answered the liberated David.

"Friend," he added, thrusting forth his lean, delicate hand

toward Hawkeye, in kindness, while his eyes twinkled and

grew moist, "I thank thee that the hairs of my head still

grow where they were first rooted by Providence; for, though

those of other men may be more glossy and curling, I have

ever found mine own well suited to the brain they shelter.

That I did not join myself to the battle, was less owing to

disinclination, than to the bonds of the heathen.  Valiant

and skillful hast thou proved thyself in the conflict, and I

hereby thank thee, before proceeding to discharge other and

more important duties, because thou hast proved thyself well

worthy of a Christian's praise."



"The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see if

you tarry long among us," returned the scout, a good deal

softened toward the man of song, by this unequivocal

expression of gratitude.  "I have got back my old companion,

'killdeer'," he added, striking his hand on the breech of

his rifle; "and that in itself is a victory.  These Iroquois

are cunning, but they outwitted themselves when they placed

their firearms out of reach; and had Uncas or his father

been gifted with only their common Indian patience, we

should have come in upon the knaves with three bullets

instead of one, and that would have made a finish of the

whole pack; yon loping varlet, as well as his commerades.

But 'twas all fore-ordered, and for the best."



"Thou sayest well," returned David, "and hast caught the

true spirit of Christianity.  He that is to be saved will be

saved, and he that is predestined to be damned will be

damned.  This is the doctrine of truth, and most consoling

and refreshing it is to the true believer."



The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the

state of his rifle with a species of parental assiduity, now

looked up at the other in a displeasure that he did not

affect to conceal, roughly interrupting further speech.



"Doctrine or no doctrine," said the sturdy woodsman, "'tis

the belief of knaves, and the curse of an honest man.  I can

credit that yonder Huron was to fall by my hand, for with my

own eyes I have seen it; but nothing short of being a

witness will cause me to think he has met with any reward,

or that Chingachgook there will be condemned at the final

day."



"You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor

any covenant to support it," cried David who was deeply

tinctured with the subtle distinctions which, in his time ,

and more especially in his province, had been drawn around

the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by endeavoring to

penetrate the awful mystery of the divine nature, supplying

faith by self-sufficiency, and by consequence, involving

those who reasoned from such human dogmas in absurdities and

doubt; "your temple is reared on the sands, and the first

tempest will wash away its foundation.  I demand your

authorities for such an uncharitable assertion (like other

advocates of a system, David was not always accurate in his

use of terms).  Name chapter and verse; in which of the holy

books do you find language to support you?"



"Book!" repeated Hawkeye, with singular and ill-concealed

disdain; "do you take me for a whimpering boy at the

apronstring of one of your old gals; and this good rifle on

my knee for the feather of a goose's wing, my ox's horn for

a bottle of ink, and my leathern pouch for a cross-barred

handkercher to carry my dinner?  Book! what have such as I,

who am a warrior of the wilderness, though a man without a

cross, to do with books?  I never read but in one, and the

words that are written there are too simple and too plain to

need much schooling; though I may boast that of forty long

and hard-working years."



"What call you the volume?" said David, misconceiving the

other's meaning.



"'Tis open before your eyes," returned the scout; "and he

who owns it is not a niggard of its use.  I have heard it

said that there are men who read in books to convince

themselves there is a God.  I know not but man may so deform

his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so

clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and

priests.  If any such there be, and he will follow me from

sun to sun, through the windings of the forest, he shall see

enough to teach him that he is a fool, and that the greatest

of his folly lies in striving to rise to the level of One he

can never equal, be it in goodness, or be it in power."



The instant David discovered that he battled with a

disputant who imbibed his faith from the lights of nature,

eschewing all subtleties of doctrine, he willingly abandoned

a controversy from which he believed neither profit nor

credit was to be derived.  While the scout was speaking, he

had also seated himself, and producing the ready little

volume and the iron-rimmed spectacles, he prepared to

discharge a duty, which nothing but the unexpected assault

he had received in his orthodoxy could have so long

suspended.  He was, in truth, a minstrel of the western

continent--of a much later day, certainly, than those

gifted bards, who formerly sang the profane renown of baron

and prince, but after the spirit of his own age and country;

and he was now prepared to exercise the cunning of his

craft, in celebration of, or rather in thanksgiving for, the

recent victory.  He waited patiently for Hawkeye to cease,

then lifting his eyes, together with his voice, he said,

aloud:



"I invite you, friends, to join in praise for this signal

deliverance from the hands of barbarians and infidels, to

the comfortable and solemn tones of the tune called '

Northampton'."



He next named the page and verse where the rhymes selected

were to be found, and applied the pitch-pipe to his lips,

with the decent gravity that he had been wont to use in the

temple.  This time he was, however, without any

accompaniment, for the sisters were just then pouring out

those tender effusions of affection which have been already

alluded to.  Nothing deterred by the smallness of his

audience, which, in truth, consisted only of the

discontented scout, he raised his voice, commencing and

ending the sacred song without accident or interruption of

any kind.



Hawkeye listened while he coolly adjusted his flint and

reloaded his rifle; but the sounds, wanting the extraneous

assistance of scene and sympathy, failed to awaken his

slumbering emotions.  Never minstrel, or by whatever more

suitable name David should be known, drew upon his talents

in the presence of more insensible auditors; though

considering the singleness and sincerity of his motive, it

is probably that no bard of profane song ever uttered notes

that ascended so near to that throne where all homage and

praise is due.  The scout shook his head, and muttering some

unintelligible words, among which "throat" and "Iroquois"

were alone audible, he walked away, to collect and to

examine into the state of the captured arsenal of the

Hurons.  In this office he was now joined by Chingachgook,

who found his own, as well as the rifle of his son, among

the arms.  Even Heyward and David were furnished with

weapons; nor was ammunition wanting to render them all

effectual.



When the foresters had made their selection, and distributed

their prizes, the scout announced that the hour had arrived

when it was necessary to move.  By this time the song of

Gamut had ceased, and the sisters had learned to still the

exhibition of their emotions.  Aided by Duncan and the

younger Mohican, the two latter descended the precipitous

sides of that hill which they had so lately ascended under

so very different auspices, and whose summit had so nearly

proved the scene of their massacre.  At the foot they found

the Narragansetts browsing the herbage of the bushes, and

having mounted, they followed the movements of a guide, who,

in the most deadly straits, had so often proved himself

their friend.  The journey was, however, short.  Hawkeye,

leaving the blind path that the Hurons had followed, turned

short to his right, and entering the thicket, he crossed a

babbling brook, and halted in a narrow dell, under the shade

of a few water elms.  Their distance from the base of the

fatal hill was but a few rods, and the steeds had been

serviceable only in crossing the shallow stream.



The scout and the Indians appeared to be familiar with the

sequestered place where they now were; for, leaning their

rifle against the trees, they commenced throwing aside the

dried leaves, and opening the blue clay, out of which a

clear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing water,

quickly bubbled.  The white man then looked about him, as

though seeking for some object, which was not to be found as

readily as he expected.



"Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tuscarora and

Onondaga brethren, have been here slaking their thirst," he

muttered, "and the vagabonds have thrown away the gourd!

This is the way with benefits, when they are bestowed on

such disremembering hounds!  Here has the Lord laid his

hand, in the midst of the howling wilderness, for their

good, and raised a fountain of water from the bowels of the

'arth, that might laugh at the richest shop of apothecary's

ware in all the colonies; and see! the knaves have trodden

in the clay, and deformed the cleanliness of the place, as

though they were brute beasts, instead of human men."



Uncas silently extended toward him the desired gourd, which

the spleen of Hawkeye had hitherto prevented him from

observing on a branch of an elm.  Filling it with water, he

retired a short distance, to a place where the ground was

more firm and dry; here he coolly seated himself, and after

taking a long, and, apparently, a grateful draught, he

commenced a very strict examination of the fragments of food

left by the Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on his arm.



"Thank you, lad!" he continued, returning the empty gourd to

Uncas; "now we will see how these rampaging Hurons lived,

when outlying in ambushments.  Look at this!  The varlets

know the better pieces of the deer; and one would think they

might carve and roast a saddle, equal to the best cook in

the land!  But everything is raw, for the Iroquois are

thorough savages.  Uncas, take my steel and kindle a fire; a

mouthful of a tender broil will give natur' a helping hand,

after so long a trail."



Heyward, perceiving that their guides now set about their

repast in sober earnest, assisted the ladies to alight, and

placed himself at their side, not unwilling to enjoy a few

moments of grateful rest, after the bloody scene he had just

gone through.  While the culinary process was in hand,

curiosity induced him to inquire into the circumstances

which had led to their timely and unexpected rescue:



"How is it that we see you so soon, my generous friend," he

asked, "and without aid from the garrison of Edward?"



"Had we gone to the bend in the river, we might have been in

time to rake the leaves over your bodies, but too late to

have saved your scalps," coolly answered the scout.  "No,

no; instead of throwing away strength and opportunity by

crossing to the fort, we lay by, under the bank of the

Hudson, waiting to watch the movements of the Hurons."



"You were, then, witnesses of all that passed?"



"Not of all; for Indian sight is too keen to be easily

cheated, and we kept close.  A difficult matter it was, too,

to keep this Mohican boy snug in the ambushment.  Ah! Uncas,

Uncas, your behavior was more like that of a curious woman

than of a warrior on his scent."



Uncas permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on the

sturdy countenance of the speaker, but he neither spoke nor

gave any indication of repentance.  On the contrary, Heyward

thought the manner of the young Mohican was disdainful, if

not a little fierce, and that he suppressed passions that

were ready to explode, as much in compliment to the

listeners, as from the deference he usually paid to his

white associate.



"You saw our capture?" Heyward next demanded.



"We heard it," was the significant answer.  "An Indian yell

is plain language to men who have passed their days in the

woods.  But when you landed, we were driven to crawl like

sarpents, beneath the leaves; and then we lost sight of you

entirely, until we placed eyes on you again trussed to the

trees, and ready bound for an Indian massacre."



"Our rescue was the deed of Providence.  It was nearly a

miracle that you did not mistake the path, for the Hurons

divided, and each band had its horses."



"Ay! there we were thrown off the scent, and might, indeed,

have lost the trail, had it not been for Uncas; we took the

path, however, that led into the wilderness; for we judged,

and judged rightly, that the savages would hold that course

with their prisoners.  But when we had followed it for many

miles, without finding a single twig broken, as I had

advised, my mind misgave me; especially as all the footsteps

had the prints of moccasins."



"Our captors had the precaution to see us shod like

themselves," said Duncan, raising a foot, and exhibiting the

buckskin he wore.



"Aye, 'twas judgmatical and like themselves; though we were

too expart to be thrown from a trail by so common an

invention."



"To what, then, are we indebted for our safety?"



"To what, as a white man who has no taint of Indian blood, I

should be ashamed to own; to the judgment of the young

Mohican, in matters which I should know better than he, but

which I can now hardly believe to be true, though my own

eyes tell me it is so."



"'Tis extraordinary! will you not name the reason?"



"Uncas was bold enough to say, that the beasts ridden by the

gentle ones," continued Hawkeye, glancing his eyes, not

without curious interest, on the fillies of the ladies,

"planted the legs of one side on the ground at the same

time, which is contrary to the movements of all trotting

four-footed animals of my knowledge, except the bear.  And

yet here are horses that always journey in this manner, as

my own eyes have seen, and as their trail has shown for

twenty long miles."



"'Tis the merit of the animal!  They come from the shores of

Narrangansett Bay, in the small province of Providence

Plantations, and are celebrated for their hardihood, and the

ease of this peculiar movement; though other horses are not

unfrequently trained to the same."



"It may be--it may be," said Hawkeye, who had listened

with singular attention to this explanation; "though I am a

man who has the full blood of the whites, my judgment in

deer and beaver is greater than in beasts of burden.  Major

Effingham has many noble chargers, but I have never seen one

travel after such a sidling gait."



"True; for he would value the animals for very different

properties.  Still is this a breed highly esteemed and, as

you witness, much honored with the burdens it is often

destined to bear."



The Mohicans had suspended their operations about the

glimmering fire to listen; and, when Duncan had done, they

looked at each other significantly, the father uttering the

never-failing exclamation of surprise.  The scout ruminated,

like a man digesting his newly-acquired knowledge, and once

more stole a glance at the horses.



"I dare to say there are even stranger sights to be seen in

the settlements!" he said, at length "natur' is sadly abused

by man, when he once gets the mastery.  But, go sidling or

go straight, Uncas had seen the movement, and their trail

led us on to the broken bush.  The outer branch, near the

prints of one of the horses, was bent upward, as a lady

breaks a flower from its stem, but all the rest were ragged

and broken down, as if the strong hand of a man had been

tearing them!  So I concluded that the cunning varments had

seen the twig bent, and had torn the rest, to make us

believe a buck had been feeling the boughs with his

antlers."



"I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you; for some

such thing occurred!"



"That was easy to see," added the scout, in no degree

conscious of having exhibited any extraordinary sagacity;

"and a very different matter it was from a waddling horse!

It then struck me the Mingoes would push for this spring,

for the knaves well know the vartue of its waters!"



"Is it, then, so famous?" demanded Heyward, examining, with

a more curious eye, the secluded dell, with its bubbling

fountain, surrounded, as it was, by earth of a deep, dingy

brown.



"Few red-skins, who travel south and east of the great lakes

but have heard of its qualities.  Will you taste for

yourself?"



Heyward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little of the

water, threw it aside with grimaces of discontent.  The

scout laughed in his silent but heartfelt manner, and shook

his head with vast satisfaction.



"Ah! you want the flavor that one gets by habit; the time

was when I liked it as little as yourself; but I have come

to my taste, and I now crave it, as a deer does the licks*.

Your high-spiced wines are not better liked than a red-skin

relishes this water; especially when his natur' is ailing.

But Uncas has made his fire, and it is time we think of

eating, for our journey is long, and all before us."



* Many of the animals of the American forests resort

to those spots where salt springs are found.  These are

called "licks" or "salt licks," in the language of the

country, from the circumstance that the quadruped is often

obliged to lick the earth, in order to obtain the saline

particles.  These licks are great places of resort with the

hunters, who waylay their game near the paths that lead to

them.



Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, the

scout had instant recourse to the fragments of food which

had escaped the voracity of the Hurons.  A very summary

process completed the simple cookery, when he and the

Mohicans commenced their humble meal, with the silence and

characteristic diligence of men who ate in order to enable

themselves to endure great and unremitting toil.



When this necessary, and, happily, grateful duty had been

performed, each of the foresters stooped and took a long and

parting draught at that solitary and silent spring*, around

which and its sister fountains, within fifty years, the

wealth, beauty and talents of a hemisphere were to assemble

in throngs, in pursuit of health and pleasure.  Then Hawkeye

announced his determination to proceed.  The sisters resumed

their saddles; Duncan and David grapsed their rifles, and

followed on footsteps; the scout leading the advance, and

the Mohicans bringing up the rear.  The whole party moved

swiftly through the narrow path, toward the north, leaving

the healing waters to mingle unheeded with the adjacent

brooks and the bodies of the dead to fester on the

neighboring mount, without the rites of sepulture; a fate

but too common to the warriors of the woods to excite either

commiseration or comment.



* The scene of the foregoing incidents is on the spot

where the village of Ballston now stands; one of the two

principal watering places of America.







CHAPTER 13



"I'll seek a readier path."--Parnell



The route taken by Hawkeye lay across those sandy plains,

relived by occasional valleys and swells of land, which had

been traversed by their party on the morning of the same

day, with the baffled Magua for their guide.  The sun had

now fallen low toward the distant mountains; and as their

journey lay through the interminable forest, the heat was no

longer oppressive.  Their progress, in consequence, was

proportionate; and long before the twilight gathered about

them, they had made good many toilsome miles on their

return.



The hunter, like the savage whose place he filled, seemed to

select among the blind signs of their wild route, with a

species of instinct, seldom abating his speed, and never

pausing to deliberate.  A rapid and oblique glance at the

moss on the trees, with an occasional upward gaze toward the

setting sun, or a steady but passing look at the direction

of the numerous water courses, through which he waded, were

sufficient to determine his path, and remove his greatest

difficulties.  In the meantime, the forest began to change

its hues, losing that lively green which had embellished its

arches, in the graver light which is the usual precursor of

the close of day.



While the eyes of the sisters were endeavoring to catch

glimpses through the trees, of the flood of golden glory

which formed a glittering halo around the sun, tinging here

and there with ruby streaks, or bordering with narrow

edgings of shining yellow, a mass of clouds that lay piled

at no great distance above the western hills, Hawkeye turned

suddenly and pointing upward toward the gorgeous heavens, he

spoke:



"Yonder is the signal given to man to seek his food and

natural rest," he said; "better and wiser would it be, if he

could understand the signs of nature, and take a lesson from

the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field!  Our

night, however, will soon be over, for with the moon we must

be up and moving again.  I remember to have fou't the

Maquas, hereaways, in the first war in which I ever drew

blood from man; and we threw up a work of blocks, to keep

the ravenous varmints from handling our scalps.  If my marks

do not fail me, we shall find the place a few rods further

to our left."



Without waiting for an assent, or, indeed, for any reply,

the sturdy hunter moved boldly into a dense thicket of young

chestnuts, shoving aside the branches of the exuberant

shoots which nearly covered the ground, like a man who

expected, at each step, to discover some object he had

formerly known.  The recollection of the scout did not

deceive him.  After penetrating through the brush, matted as

it was with briars, for a few hundred feet, he entered an

open space, that surrounded a low, green hillock, which was

crowned by the decayed blockhouse in question.  This rude

and neglected building was one of those deserted works,

which, having been thrown up on an emergency, had been

abandoned with the disappearance of danger, and was now

quietly crumbling in the solitude of the forest, neglected

and nearly forgotten, like the circumstances which had

caused it to be reared.  Such memorials of the passage and

struggles of man are yet frequent throughout the broad

barrier of wilderness which once separated the hostile

provinces, and form a species of ruins that are intimately

associated with the recollections of colonial history, and

which are in appropriate keeping with the gloomy character

of the surrounding scenery.  The roof of bark had long since

fallen, and mingled with the soil, but the huge logs of

pine, which had been hastily thrown together, still

preserved their relative positions, though one angle of the

work had given way under the pressure, and threatened a

speedy downfall to the remainder of the rustic edifice.

While Heyward and his companions hesitated to approach a

building so decayed, Hawkeye and the Indians entered within

the low walls, not only without fear, but with obvious

interest.  While the former surveyed the ruins, both

internally and externally, with the curiosity of one whose

recollections were reviving at each moment, Chingachgook

related to his son, in the language of the Delawares, and

with the pride of a conqueror, the brief history of the

skirmish which had been fought, in his youth, in that

secluded spot.  A strain of melancholy, however, blended

with his triumph, rendering his voice, as usual, soft and

musical.



In the meantime, the sisters gladly dismounted, and prepared

to enjoy their halt in the coolness of the evening, and in a

security which they believed nothing but the beasts of the

forest could invade.



"Would not our resting-place have been more retired, my

worthy friend," demanded the more vigilant Duncan,

perceiving that the scout had already finished his short

survey, "had we chosen a spot less known, and one more

rarely visited than this?"



"Few live who know the blockhouse was ever raised," was the

slow and musing answer; "'tis not often that books are made,

and narratives written of such a scrimmage as was here fou't

atween the Mohicans and the Mohawks, in a war of their own

waging.  I was then a younker, and went out with the

Delawares, because I know'd they were a scandalized and

wronged race.  Forty days and forty nights did the imps

crave our blood around this pile of logs, which I designed

and partly reared, being, as you'll remember, no Indian

myself, but a man without a cross.  The Delawares lent

themselves to the work, and we made it good, ten to twenty,

until our numbers were nearly equal, and then we sallied out

upon the hounds, and not a man of them ever got back to tell

the fate of his party.  Yes, yes; I was then young, and new

to the sight of blood; and not relishing the thought that

creatures who had spirits like myself should lay on the

naked ground, to be torn asunder by beasts, or to bleach in

the rains, I buried the dead with my own hands, under that

very little hillock where you have placed yourselves; and no

bad seat does it make neither, though it be raised by the

bones of mortal men."



Heyward and the sisters arose, on the instant, from the

grassy sepulcher; nor could the two latter, notwithstanding

the terrific scenes they had so recently passed through,

entirely suppress an emotion of natural horror, when they

found themselves in such familiar contact with the grave of

the dead Mohawks.  The gray light, the gloomy little area of

dark grass, surrounded by its border of brush, beyond which

the pines rose, in breathing silence, apparently into the

very clouds, and the deathlike stillness of the vast forest,

were all in unison to deepen such a sensation.  "They are

gone, and they are harmless," continued Hawkeye, waving his

hand, with a melancholy smile at their manifest alarm;

"they'll never shout the war-whoop nor strike a blow with

the tomahawk again!  And of all those who aided in placing

them where they lie, Chingachgook and I only are living!

The brothers and family of the Mohican formed our war party;

and you see before you all that are now left of his race."



The eyes of the listeners involuntarily sought the forms of

the Indians, with a compassionate interest in their desolate

fortune.  Their dark persons were still to be seen within

the shadows of the blockhouse, the son listening to the

relation of his father with that sort of intenseness which

would be created by a narrative that redounded so much to

the honor of those whose names he had long revered for their

courage and savage virtues.



"I had thought the Delawares a pacific people," said Duncan,

"and that they never waged war in person; trusting the

defense of their hands to those very Mohawks that you slew!"



"'Tis true in part," returned the scout, "and yet, at the

bottom, 'tis a wicked lie.  Such a treaty was made in ages

gone by, through the deviltries of the Dutchers, who wished

to disarm the natives that had the best right to the

country, where they had settled themselves.  The Mohicans,

though a part of the same nation, having to deal with the

English, never entered into the silly bargain, but kept to

their manhood; as in truth did the Delawares, when their

eyes were open to their folly.  You see before you a chief

of the great Mohican Sagamores!  Once his family could chase

their deer over tracts of country wider than that which

belongs to the Albany Patteroon, without crossing brook or

hill that was not their on; but what is left of their

descendant?  He may find his six feet of earth when God

chooses, and keep it in peace, perhaps, if he has a friend

who will take the pains to sink his head so low that the

plowshares cannot reach it!"



"Enough!" said Heyward, apprehensive that the subject might

lead to a discussion that would interrupt the harmony so

necessary to the preservation of his fair companions; "we

have journeyed far, and few among us are blessed with forms

like that of yours, which seems to know neither fatigue nor

weakness."



"The sinews and bones of a man carry me through it all,"

said the hunter, surveying his muscular limbs with a

simplicity that betrayed the honest pleasure the compliment

afforded him; "there are larger and heavier men to be found

in the settlements, but you might travel many days in a city

before you could meet one able to walk fifty miles without

stopping to take breath, or who has kept the hounds within

hearing during a chase of hours.  However, as flesh and

blood are not always the same, it is quite reasonable to

suppose that the gentle ones are willing to rest, after all

they have seen and done this day.  Uncas, clear out the

spring, while your father and I make a cover for their

tender heads of these chestnut shoots, and a bed of grass

and leaves."



The dialogue ceased, while the hunter and his companions

busied themselves in preparations for the comfort and

protection of those they guided.  A spring, which many long

years before had induced the natives to select the place for

their temporary fortification, was soon cleared of leaves,

and a fountain of crystal gushed from the bed, diffusing its

waters over the verdant hillock.  A corner of the building

was then roofed in such a manner as to exclude the heavy dew

of the climate, and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves

were laid beneath it for the sisters to repose on.



While the diligent woodsmen were employed in this manner,

Cora and Alice partook of that refreshment which duty

required much more than inclination prompted them to accept.

They then retired within the walls, and first offering up

their thanksgivings for past mercies, and petitioning for a

continuance of the Divine favor throughout the coming night,

they laid their tender forms on the fragrant couch, and in

spite of recollections and forebodings, soon sank into those

slumbers which nature so imperiously demanded, and which

were sweetened by hopes for the morrow.  Duncan had prepared

himself to pass the night in watchfulness near them, just

without the ruin, but the scout, perceiving his intention,

pointed toward Chingachgook, as he coolly disposed his own

person on the grass, and said:



"The eyes of a white man are too heavy and too blind for

such a watch as this!  The Mohican will be our sentinel,

therefore let us sleep."



"I proved myself a sluggard on my post during the past

night," said Heyward, "and have less need of repose than

you, who did more credit to the character of a soldier.  Let

all the party seek their rest, then, while I hold the

guard."



"If we lay among the white tents of the Sixtieth, and in

front of an enemy like the French, I could not ask for a

better watchman," returned the scout; "but in the darkness

and among the signs of the wilderness your judgment would be

like the folly of a child, and your vigilance thrown away.

Do then, like Uncas and myself, sleep, and sleep in safety."



Heyward perceived, in truth, that the younger Indian had

thrown his form on the side of the hillock while they were

talking, like one who sought to make the most of the time

allotted to rest, and that his example had been followed by

David, whose voice literally "clove to his jaws," with the

fever of his wound, heightened, as it was, by their toilsome

march.  Unwilling to prolong a useless discussion, the young

man affected to comply, by posting his back against the logs

of the blockhouse, in a half recumbent posture, though

resolutely determined, in his own mind, not to close an eye

until he had delivered his precious charge into the arms of

Munro himself.  Hawkeye, believing he had prevailed, soon

fell asleep, and a silence as deep as the solitude in which

they had found it, pervaded the retired spot.



For many minutes Duncan succeeded in keeping his senses on

the alert, and alive to every moaning sound that arose from

the forest.  His vision became more acute as the shades of

evening settled on the place; and even after the stars were

glimmering above his head, he was able to distinguish the

recumbent forms of his companions, as they lay stretched on

the grass, and to note the person of Chingachgook, who sat

upright and motionless as one of the trees which formed the

dark barrier on every side.  He still heard the gentle

breathings of the sisters, who lay within a few feet of him,

and not a leaf was ruffled by the passing air of which his

ear did not detect the whispering sound.  At length,

however, the mournful notes of a whip-poor-will became

blended with the moanings of an owl; his heavy eyes

occasionally sought the bright rays of the stars, and he

then fancied he saw them through the fallen lids.  At

instants of momentary wakefulness he mistook a bush for his

associate sentinel; his head next sank upon his shoulder,

which, in its turn, sought the support of the ground; and,

finally, his whole person became relaxed and pliant, and the

young man sank into a deep sleep, dreaming that he was a

knight of ancient chivalry, holding his midnight vigils

before the tent of a recaptured princess, whose favor he did

not despair of gaining, by such a proof of devotion and

watchfulness.



How long the tired Duncan lay in this insensible state he

never knew himself, but his slumbering visions had been long

lost in total forgetfulness, when he was awakened by a light

tap on the shoulder.  Aroused by this signal, slight as it

was, he sprang upon his feet with a confused recollection of

the self-imposed duty he had assumed with the commencement

of the night.



"Who comes?" he demanded, feeling for his sword, at the

place where it was usually suspended.  "Speak! friend or

enemy?"



"Friend," replied the low voice of Chingachgook; who,

pointing upward at the luminary which was shedding its mild

light through the opening in the trees, directly in their

bivouac, immediately added, in his rude English: "Moon comes

and white man's fort far--far off; time to move, when

sleep shuts both eyes of the Frenchman!"



"You say true!  Call up your friends, and bridle the horses

while I prepare my own companions for the march!"



"We are awake, Duncan," said the soft, silvery tones of

Alice within the building, "and ready to travel very fast

after so refreshing a sleep; but you have watched through

the tedious night in our behalf, after having endured so

much fatigue the livelong day!"



"Say, rather, I would have watched, but my treacherous eyes

betrayed me; twice have I proved myself unfit for the trust

I bear."



"Nay, Duncan, deny it not," interrupted the smiling Alice,

issuing from the shadows of the building into the light of

the moon, in all the loveliness of her freshened beauty; "I

know you to be a heedless one, when self is the object of

your care, and but too vigilant in favor of others.  Can we

not tarry here a little longer while you find the rest you

need?  Cheerfully, most cheerfully, will Cora and I keep the

vigils, while you and all these brave men endeavor to snatch

a little sleep!"



"If shame could cure me of my drowsiness, I should never

close an eye again," said the uneasy youth, gazing at the

ingenuous countenance of Alice, where, however, in its sweet

solicitude, he read nothing to confirm his half-awakened

suspicion.  "It is but too true, that after leading you into

danger by my heedlessness, I have not even the merit of

guarding your pillows as should become a soldier."



"No one but Duncan himself should accuse Duncan of such a

weakness.  Go, then, and sleep; believe me, neither of us,

weak girls as we are, will betray our watch."



The young man was relieved from the awkwardness of making

any further protestations of his own demerits, by an

exclamation from Chingachgook, and the attitude of riveted

attention assumed by his son.



"The Mohicans hear an enemy!" whispered Hawkeye, who, by

this time, in common with the whole party, was awake and

stirring.  "They scent danger in the wind!"



"God forbid!" exclaimed Heyward.  "Surely we have had enough

of bloodshed!"



While he spoke, however, the young soldier seized his rifle,

and advancing toward the front, prepared to atone for his

venial remissness, by freely exposing his life in defense of

those he attended.



"'Tis some creature of the forest prowling around us in

quest of food," he said, in a whisper, as soon as the low,

and apparently distant sounds, which had startled the

Mohicans, reached his own ears.



"Hist!" returned the attentive scout; "'tis man; even I can

now tell his tread, poor as my senses are when compared to

an Indian's!  That Scampering Huron has fallen in with one

of Montcalm's outlying parties, and they have struck upon

our trail.  I shouldn't like, myself, to spill more human

blood in this spot," he added, looking around with anxiety

in his features, at the dim objects by which he was

surrounded; "but what must be, must!  Lead the horses into

the blockhouse, Uncas; and, friends, do you follow to the

same shelter.  Poor and old as it is, it offers a cover, and

has rung with the crack of a rifle afore to-night!"



He was instantly obeyed, the Mohicans leading the

Narrangansetts within the ruin, whither the whole party

repaired with the most guarded silence.



The sound of approaching footsteps were now too distinctly

audible to leave any doubts as to the nature of the

interruption.  They were soon mingled with voices calling to

each other in an Indian dialect, which the hunter, in a

whisper, affirmed to Heyward was the language of the Hurons.

When the party reached the point where the horses had

entered the thicket which surrounded the blockhouse, they

were evidently at fault, having lost those marks which,

until that moment, had directed their pursuit.



It would seem by the voices that twenty men were soon

collected at that one spot, mingling their different

opinions and advice in noisy clamor.



"The knaves know our weakness," whispered Hawkeye, who stood

by the side of Heyward, in deep shade, looking through an

opening in the logs, "or they wouldn't indulge their

idleness in such a squaw's march.  Listen to the reptiles!

each man among them seems to have two tongues, and but a

single leg."



Duncan, brave as he was in the combat, could not, in such a

moment of painful suspense, make any reply to the cool and

characteristic remark of the scout.  He only grasped his

rifle more firmly, and fastened his eyes upon the narrow

opening, through which he gazed upon the moonlight view with

increasing anxiety.  The deeper tones of one who spoke as

having authority were next heard, amid a silence that

denoted the respect with which his orders, or rather advice,

was received.  After which, by the rustling of leaves, and

crackling of dried twigs, it was apparent the savages were

separating in pursuit of the lost trail.  Fortunately for

the pursued, the light of the moon, while it shed a flood of

mild luster upon the little area around the ruin, was not

sufficiently strong to penetrate the deep arches of the

forest, where the objects still lay in deceptive shadow.

The search proved fruitless; for so short and sudden had

been the passage from the faint path the travelers had

journeyed into the thicket, that every trace of their

footsteps was lost in the obscurity of the woods.



It was not long, however, before the restless savages were

heard beating the brush, and gradually approaching the inner

edge of that dense border of young chestnuts which encircled

the little area.



"They are coming," muttered Heyward, endeavoring to thrust

his rifle through the chink in the logs; "let us fire on

their approach."



"Keep everything in the shade," returned the scout; "the

snapping of a flint, or even the smell of a single karnel of

the brimstone, would bring the hungry varlets upon us in a

body.  Should it please God that we must give battle for the

scalps, trust to the experience of men who know the ways of

the savages, and who are not often backward when the war-

whoop is howled."



Duncan cast his eyes behind him, and saw that the trembling

sisters were cowering in the far corner of the building,

while the Mohicans stood in the shadow, like two upright

posts, ready, and apparently willing, to strike when the

blow should be needed.  Curbing his impatience, he again

looked out upon the area, and awaited the result in silence.

At that instant the thicket opened, and a tall and armed

Huron advanced a few paces into the open space.  As he gazed

upon the silent blockhouse, the moon fell upon his swarthy

countenance, and betrayed its surprise and curiosity.  He

made the exclamation which usually accompanies the former

emotion in an Indian, and, calling in a low voice, soon drew

a companion to his side.



These children of the woods stood together for several

moments pointing at the crumbling edifice, and conversing in

the unintelligible language of their tribe.  They then

approached, though with slow and cautious steps, pausing

every instant to look at the building, like startled deer

whose curiosity struggled powerfully with their awakened

apprehensions for the mastery.  The foot of one of them

suddenly rested on the mound, and he stopped to examine its

nature.  At this moment, Heyward observed that the scout

loosened his knife in its sheath, and lowered the muzzle of

his rifle.  Imitating these movements, the young man

prepared himself for the struggle which now seemed

inevitable.



The savages were so near, that the least motion in one of

the horses, or even a breath louder than common, would have

betrayed the fugitives.  But in discovering the character of

the mound, the attention of the Hurons appeared directed to

a different object.  They spoke together, and the sounds of

their voices were low and solemn, as if influenced by a

reverence that was deeply blended with awe.  Then they drew

warily back, keeping their eyes riveted on the ruin, as if

they expected to see the apparitions of the dead issue from

its silent walls, until, having reached the boundary of the

area, they moved slowly into the thicket and disappeared.



Hawkeye dropped the breech of his rifle to the earth, and

drawing a long, free breath, exclaimed, in an audible

whisper:



"Ay! they respect the dead, and it has this time saved their

own lives, and, it may be, the lives of better men too."



Heyward lent his attention for a single moment to his

companion, but without replying, he again turned toward

those who just then interested him more.  He heard the two

Hurons leave the bushes, and it was soon plain that all the

pursuers were gathered about them, in deep attention to

their report.  After a few minutes of earnest and solemn

dialogue, altogether different from the noisy clamor with

which they had first collected about the spot, the sounds

grew fainter and more distant, and finally were lost in the

depths of the forest.



Hawkeye waited until a signal from the listening

Chingachgook assured him that every sound from the retiring

party was completely swallowed by the distance, when he

motioned to Heyward to lead forth the horses, and to assist

the sisters into their saddles.  The instant this was done

they issued through the broken gateway, and stealing out by

a direction opposite to the one by which they entered, they

quitted the spot, the sisters casting furtive glances at the

silent, grave and crumbling ruin, as they left the soft

light of the moon, to bury themselves in the gloom of the

woods.







CHAPTER 14



"Guard.--Qui est la?  Puc.--Paisans, pauvres gens de

France."--King Henry VI



During the rapid movement from the blockhouse, and until the

party was deeply buried in the forest, each individual was

too much interested in the escape to hazard a word even in

whispers.  The scout resumed his post in advance, though his

steps, after he had thrown a safe distance between himself

and his enemies, were more deliberate than in their previous

march, in consequence of his utter ignorance of the

localities of the surrounding woods.  More than once he

halted to consult with his confederates, the Mohicans,

pointing upward at the moon, and examining the barks of the

trees with care.  In these brief pauses, Heyward and the

sisters listened, with senses rendered doubly acute by the

danger, to detect any symptoms which might announce the

proximity of their foes.  At such moments, it seemed as if a

vast range of country lay buried in eternal sleep; not the

least sound arising from the forest, unless it was the

distant and scarcely audible rippling of a water-course.

Birds, beasts, and man, appeared to slumber alike, if,

indeed, any of the latter were to be found in that wide

tract of wilderness.  But the sounds of the rivulet, feeble

and murmuring as they were, relieved the guides at once from

no trifling embarrassment, and toward it they immediately

held their way.



When the banks of the little stream were gained, Hawkeye

made another halt; and taking the moccasins from his feet,

he invited Heyward and Gamut to follow his example.  He then

entered the water, and for near an hour they traveled in the

bed of the brook, leaving no trail.  The moon had already

sunk into an immense pile of black clouds, which lay

impending above the western horizon, when they issued from

the low and devious water-course to rise again to the light

and level of the sandy but wooded plain.  Here the scout

seemed to be once more at home, for he held on this way with

the certainty and diligence of a man who moved in the

security of his own knowledge.  The path soon became more

uneven, and the travelers could plainly perceive that the

mountains drew nigher to them on each hand, and that they

were, in truth, about entering one of their gorges.

Suddenly, Hawkeye made a pause, and, waiting until he was

joined by the whole party, he spoke, though in tones so low

and cautious, that they added to the solemnity of his words,

in the quiet and darkness of the place.



"It is easy to know the pathways, and to find the licks and

water-courses of the wilderness," he said; "but who that saw

this spot could venture to say, that a mighty army was at

rest among yonder silent trees and barren mountains?"



"We are, then, at no great distance from William Henry?"

said Heyward, advancing nigher to the scout.



"It is yet a long and weary path, and when and where to

strike it is now our greatest difficulty.  See," he said,

pointing through the trees toward a spot where a little

basin of water reflected the stars from its placid bosom,

"here is the 'bloody pond'; and I am on ground that I have

not only often traveled, but over which I have fou't the

enemy, from the rising to the setting sun."



"Ha! that sheet of dull and dreary water, then, is the

sepulcher of the brave men who fell in the contest.  I have

heard it named, but never have I stood on its banks before."



"Three battles did we make with the Dutch-Frenchman* in a

day," continued Hawkeye, pursuing the train of his own

thoughts, rather than replying to the remark of Duncan.  "He

met us hard by, in our outward march to ambush his advance,

and scattered us, like driven deer, through the defile, to

the shores of Horican.  Then we rallied behind our fallen

trees, and made head against him, under Sir William--who

was made Sir William for that very deed; and well did we pay

him for the disgrace of the morning!  Hundreds of Frenchmen

saw the sun that day for the last time; and even their

leader, Dieskau himself, fell into our hands, so cut and

torn with the lead, that he has gone back to his own

country, unfit for further acts in war."



* Baron Dieskau, a German, in the service of France.

A few years previously to the period of the tale, this

officer was defeated by Sir William Johnson, of Johnstown,

New York, on the shores of Lake George.



"'Twas a noble repulse!" exclaimed Heyward, in the heat of

his youthful ardor; "the fame of it reached us early, in our

southern army."



"Ay! but it did not end there.  I was sent by Major

Effingham, at Sir William's own bidding, to outflank the

French, and carry the tidings of their disaster across the

portage, to the fort on the Hudson.  Just hereaway, where

you see the trees rise into a mountain swell, I met a party

coming down to our aid, and I led them where the enemy were

taking their meal, little dreaming that they had not

finished the bloody work of the day."



"And you surprised them?"



"If death can be a surprise to men who are thinking only of

the cravings of their appetites.  We gave them but little

breathing time, for they had borne hard upon us in the fight

of the morning, and there were few in our party who had not

lost friend or relative by their hands."



"When all was over, the dead, and some say the dying, were

cast into that little pond.  These eyes have seen its waters

colored with blood, as natural water never yet flowed from

the bowels of the 'arth."



"It was a convenient, and, I trust, will prove a peaceful

grave for a soldier.  You have then seen much service on

this frontier?"



"Ay!" said the scout, erecting his tall person with an air

of military pride; "there are not many echoes among these

hills that haven't rung with the crack of my rifle, nor is

there the space of a square mile atwixt Horican and the

river, that 'killdeer' hasn't dropped a living body on, be

it an enemy or be it a brute beast.  As for the grave there

being as quiet as you mention, it is another matter.  There

are them in the camp who say and think, man, to lie still,

should not be buried while the breath is in the body; and

certain it is that in the hurry of that evening, the doctors

had but little time to say who was living and who was dead.

Hist! see you nothing walking on the shore of the pond?"



"'Tis not probable that any are as houseless as ourselves in

this dreary forest."



"Such as he may care but little for house or shelter, and

night dew can never wet a body that passes its days in the

water," returned the scout, grasping the shoulder of Heyward

with such convulsive strength as to make the young soldier

painfully sensible how much superstitious terror had got the

mastery of a man usually so dauntless.



"By heaven, there is a human form, and it approaches!  Stand

to your arms, my friends; for we know not whom we

encounter."



"Qui vive?" demanded a stern, quick voice, which sounded

like a challenge from another world, issuing out of that

solitary and solemn place.



"What says it?" whispered the scout; "it speaks neither

Indian nor English."



"Qui vive?" repeated the same voice, which was quickly

followed by the rattling of arms, and a menacing attitude.



"France!" cried Heyward, advancing from the shadow of the

trees to the shore of the pond, within a few yards of the

sentinel.



"D'ou venez-vous--ou allez-vous, d'aussi bonne heure?"

demanded the grenadier, in the language and with the accent

of a man from old France.



"Je viens de la decouverte, et je vais me coucher."



"Etes-vous officier du roi?"



"Sans doute, mon camarade; me prends-tu pour un provincial!

Je suis capitaine de chasseurs (Heyward well knew that the

other was of a regiment in the line); j'ai ici, avec moi,

les filles du commandant de la fortification.  Aha! tu en as

entendu parler! je les ai fait prisonnieres pres de l'autre

fort, et je les conduis au general."



"Ma foi! mesdames; j'en suis f�che pour vous," exclaimed the

young soldier, touching his cap with grace; "mais--fortune

de guerre! vous trouverez notre general un brave homme, et

bien poli avec les dames."



"C'est le caractere des gens de guerre," said Cora, with

admirable self-possession.  "Adieu, mon ami; je vous

souhaiterais un devoir plus agreable a remplir."



The soldier made a low and humble acknowledgment for her

civility; and Heyward adding a "Bonne nuit, mon camarade,"

they moved deliberately forward, leaving the sentinel pacing

the banks of the silent pond, little suspecting an enemy of

so much effrontery, and humming to himself those words which

were recalled to his mind by the sight of women, and,

perhaps, by recollections of his own distant and beautiful

France: "Vive le vin, vive l'amour," etc., etc.



"'Tis well you understood the knave!" whispered the scout,

when they had gained a little distance from the place, and

letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm again; "I

soon saw that he was one of them uneasy Frenchers; and well

for him it was that his speech was friendly and his wishes

kind, or a place might have been found for his bones among

those of his countrymen."



He was interrupted by a long and heavy groan which arose

from the little basin, as though, in truth, the spirits of

the departed lingered about their watery sepulcher.



"Surely it was of flesh," continued the scout; "no spirit

could handle its arms so steadily."



"It was of flesh; but whether the poor fellow still belongs

to this world may well be doubted," said Heyward, glancing

his eyes around him, and missing Chingachgook from their

little band.  Another groan more faint than the former was

succeeded by a heavy and sullen plunge into the water, and

all was still again as if the borders of the dreary pool had

never been awakened from the silence of creation.  While

they yet hesitated in uncertainty, the form of the Indian

was seen gliding out of the thicket.  As the chief rejoined

them, with one hand he attached the reeking scalp of the

unfortunate young Frenchman to his girdle, and with the

other he replaced the knife and tomahawk that had drunk his

blood.  He then took his wonted station, with the air of a

man who believed he had done a deed of merit.



The scout dropped one end of his rifle to the earth, and

leaning his hands on the other, he stood musing in profound

silence.  Then, shaking his head in a mournful manner, he

muttered:



"'Twould have been a cruel and an unhuman act for a white-

skin; but 'tis the gift and natur' of an Indian, and I

suppose it should not be denied.  I could wish, though it

had befallen an accursed Mingo, rather than that gay young

boy from the old countries."



"Enough!" said Heyward, apprehensive the unconscious sisters

might comprehend the nature of the detention, and conquering

his disgust by a train of reflections very much like that of

the hunter; "'tis done; and though better it were left

undone, cannot be amended.  You see, we are, too obviously

within the sentinels of the enemy; what course do you

propose to follow?"



"Yes," said Hawkeye, rousing himself again; "'tis as you

say, too late to harbor further thoughts about it.  Ay, the

French have gathered around the fort in good earnest and we

have a delicate needle to thread in passing them."



"And but little time to do it in," added Heyward, glancing

his eyes upwards, toward the bank of vapor that concealed

the setting moon.



"And little time to do it in!" repeated the scout.  "The

thing may be done in two fashions, by the help of

Providence, without which it may not be done at all."



"Name them quickly for time presses."



"One would be to dismount the gentle ones, and let their

beasts range the plain, by sending the Mohicans in front, we

might then cut a lane through their sentries, and enter the

fort over the dead bodies."



"It will not do--it will not do!" interrupted the generous

Heyward; "a soldier might force his way in this manner, but

never with such a convoy."



"'Twould be, indeed, a bloody path for such tender feet to

wade in," returned the equally reluctant scout; "but I

thought it befitting my manhood to name it.  We must, then,

turn in our trail and get without the line of their

lookouts, when we will bend short to the west, and enter the

mountains; where I can hide you, so that all the devil's

hounds in Montcalm's pay would be thrown off the scent for

months to come."



"Let it be done, and that instantly."



Further words were unnecessary; for Hawkeye, merely uttering

the mandate to "follow," moved along the route by which they

had just entered their present critical and even dangerous

situation.  Their progress, like their late dialogue, was

guarded, and without noise; for none knew at what moment a

passing patrol, or a crouching picket of the enemy, might

rise upon their path.  As they held their silent way along

the margin of the pond, again Heyward and the scout stole

furtive glances at its appalling dreariness.  They looked in

vain for the form they had so recently seen stalking along

in silent shores, while a low and regular wash of the little

waves, by announcing that the waters were not yet subsided,

furnished a frightful memorial of the deed of blood they had

just witnessed.  Like all that passing and gloomy scene, the

low basin, however, quickly melted in the darkness, and

became blended with the mass of black objects in the rear of

the travelers.



Hawkeye soon deviated from the line of their retreat, and

striking off towards the mountains which form the western

boundary of the narrow plain, he led his followers, with

swift steps, deep within the shadows that were cast from

their high and broken summits.  The route was now painful;

lying over ground ragged with rocks, and intersected with

ravines, and their progress proportionately slow.  Bleak and

black hills lay on every side of them, compensating in some

degree for the additional toil of the march by the sense of

security they imparted.  At length the party began slowly to

rise a steep and rugged ascent, by a path that curiously

wound among rocks and trees, avoiding the one and supported

by the other, in a manner that showed it had been devised by

men long practised in the arts of the wilderness.  As they

gradually rose from the level of the valleys, the thick

darkness which usually precedes the approach of day began to

disperse, and objects were seen in the plain and palpable

colors with which they had been gifted by nature.  When they

issued from the stunted woods which clung to the barren

sides of the mountain, upon a flat and mossy rock that

formed its summit, they met the morning, as it came blushing

above the green pines of a hill that lay on the opposite

side of the valley of the Horican.



The scout now told the sisters to dismount; and taking the

bridles from the mouths, and the saddles off the backs of

the jaded beasts, he turned them loose, to glean a scanty

subsistence among the shrubs and meager herbage of that

elevated region.



"Go," he said, "and seek your food where natur' gives it to

you; and beware that you become not food to ravenous wolves

yourselves, among these hills."



"Have we no further need of them?" demanded Heyward.



"See, and judge with your own eyes," said the scout,

advancing toward the eastern brow of the mountain, whither

he beckoned for the whole party to follow; "if it was as

easy to look into the heart of man as it is to spy out the

nakedness of Montcalm's camp from this spot, hypocrites

would grow scarce, and the cunning of a Mingo might prove a

losing game, compared to the honesty of a Delaware."



When the travelers reached the verge of the precipices they

saw, at a glance, the truth of the scout's declaration, and

the admirable foresight with which he had led them to their

commanding station.



The mountain on which they stood, elevated perhaps a

thousand feet in the air, was a high cone that rose a little

in advance of that range which stretches for miles along the

western shores of the lake, until meeting its sisters miles

beyond the water, it ran off toward the Canadas, in confused

and broken masses of rock, thinly sprinkled with evergreens.

Immediately at the feet of the party, the southern shore of

the Horican swept in a broad semicircle from mountain to

mountain, marking a wide strand, that soon rose into an

uneven and somewhat elevated plain.  To the north stretched

the limpid, and, as it appeared from that dizzy height, the

narrow sheet of the "holy lake," indented with numberless

bays, embellished by fantastic headlands, and dotted with

countless islands.  At the distance of a few leagues, the

bed of the water became lost among mountains, or was wrapped

in the masses of vapor that came slowly rolling along their

bosom, before a light morning air.  But a narrow opening

between the crests of the hills pointed out the passage by

which they found their way still further north, to spread

their pure and ample sheets again, before pouring out their

tribute into the distant Champlain.  To the shout stretched

the defile, or rather broken plain, so often mentioned.  For

several miles in this direction, the mountains appeared

reluctant to yield their dominion, but within reach of the

eye they diverged, and finally melted into the level and

sandy lands, across which we have accompanied our

adventurers in their double journey.  Along both ranges of

hills, which bounded the opposite sides of the lake and

valley, clouds of light vapor were rising in spiral wreaths

from the uninhabited woods, looking like the smoke of hidden

cottages; or rolled lazily down the declivities, to mingle

with the fogs of the lower land.  A single, solitary, snow-

white cloud floated above the valley, and marked the spot

beneath which lay the silent pool of the "bloody pond."



Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its western

than to its eastern margin, lay the extensive earthen

ramparts and low buildings of William Henry.  Two of the

sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the water which washed

their bases, while a deep ditch and extensive morasses

guarded its other sides and angles.  The land had been

cleared of wood for a reasonable distance around the work,

but every other part of the scene lay in the green livery of

nature, except where the limpid water mellowed the view, or

the bold rocks thrust their black and naked heads above the

undulating outline of the mountain ranges.  In its front

might be seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary

watch against their numerous foes; and within the walls

themselves, the travelers looked down upon men still drowsy

with a night of vigilance.  Toward the southeast, but in

immediate contact with the fort, was an entrenched camp,

posted on a rocky eminence, that would have been far more

eligible for the work itself, in which Hawkeye pointed out

the presence of those auxiliary regiments that had so

recently left the Hudson in their company.  From the woods,

a little further to the south, rose numerous dark and lurid

smokes, that were easily to be distinguished from the purer

exhalations of the springs, and which the scout also showed

to Heyward, as evidences that the enemy lay in force in that

direction.



But the spectacle which most concerned the young soldier was

on the western bank of the lake, though quite near to its

southern termination.  On a strip of land, which appeared

from his stand too narrow to contain such an army, but

which, in truth, extended many hundreds of yards from the

shores of the Horican to the base of the mountain, were to

be seen the white tents and military engines of an

encampment of ten thousand men.  Batteries were already

thrown up in their front, and even while the spectators

above them were looking down, with such different emotions,

on a scene which lay like a map beneath their feet, the roar

of artillery rose from the valley, and passed off in

thundering echoes along the eastern hills.



"Morning is just touching them below," said the deliberate

and musing scout, "and the watchers have a mind to wake up

the sleepers by the sound of cannon.  We are a few hours too

late!  Montcalm has already filled the woods with his

accursed Iroquois."



"The place is, indeed, invested," returned Duncan; "but is

there no expedient by which we may enter? capture in the

works would be far preferable to falling again into the

hands of roving Indians."



"See!" exclaimed the scout, unconsciously directing the

attention of Cora to the quarters of her own father, "how

that shot has made the stones fly from the side of the

commandant's house!  Ay! these Frenchers will pull it to

pieces faster than it was put together, solid and thick

though it be!"



"Heyward, I sicken at the sight of danger that I cannot

share," said the undaunted but anxious daughter.  "Let us go

to Montcalm, and demand admission: he dare not deny a child

the boon."



"You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman with the

hair on your head"; said the blunt scout.  "If I had but one

of the thousand boats which lie empty along that shore, it

might be done!  Ha! here will soon be an end of the firing,

for yonder comes a fog that will turn day to night, and make

an Indian arrow more dangerous than a molded cannon.  Now,

if you are equal to the work, and will follow, I will make a

push; for I long to get down into that camp, if it be only

to scatter some Mingo dogs that I see lurking in the skirts

of yonder thicket of birch."



"We are equal," said Cora, firmly; "on such an errand we

will follow to any danger."



The scout turned to her with a smile of honest and cordial

approbation, as he answered:



"I would I had a thousand men, of brawny limbs and quick

eyes, that feared death as little as you!  I'd send them

jabbering Frenchers back into their den again, afore the

week was ended, howling like so many fettered hounds or

hungry wolves.  But, sir," he added, turning from her to the

rest of the party, "the fog comes rolling down so fast, we

shall have but just the time to meet it on the plain, and

use it as a cover.  Remember, if any accident should befall

me, to keep the air blowing on your left cheeks--or,

rather, follow the Mohicans; they'd scent their way, be it

in day or be it at night."



He then waved his hand for them to follow, and threw himself

down the steep declivity, with free, but careful footsteps.

Heyward assisted the sisters to descend, and in a few

minutes they were all far down a mountain whose sides they

had climbed with so much toil and pain.



The direction taken by Hawkeye soon brought the travelers to

the level of the plain, nearly opposite to a sally-port in

the western curtain of the fort, which lay itself at the

distance of about half a mile from the point where he halted

to allow Duncan to come up with his charge.  In their

eagerness, and favored by the nature of the ground, they had

anticipated the fog, which was rolling heavily down the

lake, and it became necessary to pause, until the mists had

wrapped the camp of the enemy in their fleecy mantle.  The

Mohicans profited by the delay, to steal out of the woods,

and to make a survey of surrounding objects.  They were

followed at a little distance by the scout, with a view to

profit early by their report, and to obtain some faint

knowledge for himself of the more immediate localities.



In a very few moments he returned, his face reddened with

vexation, while he muttered his disappointment in words of

no very gentle import.



"Here has the cunning Frenchman been posting a picket

directly in our path," he said; "red-skins and whites; and

we shall be as likely to fall into their midst as to pass

them in the fog!"



"Cannot we make a circuit to avoid the danger," asked

Heyward, "and come into our path again when it is passed?"



"Who that once bends from the line of his march in a fog can

tell when or how to find it again!  The mists of Horican are

not like the curls from a peace-pipe, or the smoke which

settles above a mosquito fire."



He was yet speaking, when a crashing sound was heard, and a

cannon-ball entered the thicket, striking the body of a

sapling, and rebounding to the earth, its force being much

expended by previous resistance.  The Indians followed

instantly like busy attendants on the terrible messenger,

and Uncas commenced speaking earnestly and with much action,

in the Delaware tongue.



"It may be so, lad," muttered the scout, when he had ended;

"for desperate fevers are not to be treated like a

toothache.  Come, then, the fog is shutting in."



"Stop!" cried Heyward; "first explain your expectations."



"'Tis soon done, and a small hope it is; but it is better

than nothing.  This shot that you see," added the scout,

kicking the harmless iron with his foot, "has plowed the

'arth in its road from the fort, and we shall hunt for the

furrow it has made, when all other signs may fail.  No more

words, but follow, or the fog may leave us in the middle of

our path, a mark for both armies to shoot at."



Heyward perceiving that, in fact, a crisis had arrived, when

acts were more required than words, placed himself between

the sisters, and drew them swiftly forward, keeping the dim

figure of their leader in his eye.  It was soon apparent

that Hawkeye had not magnified the power of the fog, for

before they had proceeded twenty yards, it was difficult for

the different individuals of the party to distinguish each

other in the vapor.



They had made their little circuit to the left, and were

already inclining again toward the right, having, as Heyward

thought, got over nearly half the distance to the friendly

works, when his ears were saluted with the fierce summons,

apparently within twenty feet of them, of:



"Qui va la?"



"Push on!" whispered the scout, once more bending to the

left.



"Push on!" repeated Heyward; when the summons was renewed by

a dozen voices, each of which seemed charged with menace.



"C'est moi," cried Duncan, dragging rather than leading

those he supported swiftly onward.



"Bete!--qui?--moi!"



"Ami de la France."



"Tu m'as plus l'air d'un ennemi de la France; arrete ou

pardieu je te ferai ami du diable.  Non! feu, camarades,

feu!"



The order was instantly obeyed, and the fog was stirred by

the explosion of fifty muskets.  Happily, the aim was bad,

and the bullets cut the air in a direction a little

different from that taken by the fugitives; though still so

nigh them, that to the unpractised ears of David and the two

females, it appeared as if they whistled within a few inches

of the organs.  The outcry was renewed, and the order, not

only to fire again, but to pursue, was too plainly audible.

When Heyward briefly explained the meaning of the words they

heard, Hawkeye halted and spoke with quick decision and

great firmness.



"Let us deliver our fire," he said; "they will believe it a

sortie, and give way, or they will wait for reinforcements."



The scheme was well conceived, but failed in its effects.

The instant the French heard the pieces, it seemed as if the

plain was alive with men, muskets rattling along its whole

extent, from the shores of the lake to the furthest boundary

of the woods.



"We shall draw their entire army upon us, and bring on a

general assault," said Duncan: "lead on, my friend, for your

own life and ours."



The scout seemed willing to comply; but, in the hurry of the

moment, and in the change of position, he had lost the

direction.  In vain he turned either cheek toward the light

air; they felt equally cool.  In this dilemma, Uncas lighted

on the furrow of the cannon ball, where it had cut the

ground in three adjacent ant-hills.



"Give me the range!" said Hawkeye, bending to catch a

glimpse of the direction, and then instantly moving onward.



Cries, oaths, voices calling to each other, and the reports

of muskets, were now quick and incessant, and, apparently,

on every side of them.  Suddenly a strong glare of light

flashed across the scene, the fog rolled upward in thick

wreaths, and several cannons belched across the plain, and

the roar was thrown heavily back from the bellowing echoes

of the mountain.



"'Tis from the fort!" exclaimed Hawkeye, turning short on

his tracks; "and we, like stricken fools, were rushing to

the woods, under the very knives of the Maquas."



The instant their mistake was rectified, the whole party

retraced the error with the utmost diligence.  Duncan

willingly relinquished the support of Cora to the arm of

Uncas and Cora as readily accepted the welcome assistance.

Men, hot and angry in pursuit, were evidently on their

footsteps, and each instant threatened their capture, if not

their destruction.



"Point de quartier aux coquins!" cried an eager pursuer, who

seemed to direct the operations of the enemy.



"Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant Sixtieths!" suddenly

exclaimed a voice above them; "wait to see the enemy, fire

low and sweep the glacis."



"Father! father!" exclaimed a piercing cry from out the

mist: "it is I!  Alice!  thy own Elsie!  Spare, oh! save

your daughters!"



"Hold!" shouted the former speaker, in the awful tones of

parental agony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and

rolling back in solemn echo.  "'Tis she!  God has restored

me to my children!  Throw open the sally-port; to the field,

Sixtieths, to the field; pull not a trigger, lest ye kill my

lambs!  Drive off these dogs of France with your steel."



Duncan heard the grating of the rusty hinges, and darting to

the spot, directed by the sound, he met a long line of dark

red warriors, passing swiftly toward the glacis.  He knew

them for his own battalion of the Royal Americans, and

flying to their head, soon swept every trace of his pursuers

from before the works.



For an instant, Cora and Alice had stood trembling and

bewildered by this unexpected desertion; but before either

had leisure for speech, or even thought, an officer of

gigantic frame, whose locks were bleached with years and

service, but whose air of military grandeur had been rather

softened than destroyed by time, rushed out of the body of

mist, and folded them to his bosom, while large scalding

tears rolled down his pale and wrinkled cheeks, and he

exclaimed, in the peculiar accent of Scotland:



"For this I thank thee, Lord!  Let danger come as it will,

thy servant is now prepared!"







CHAPTER 15



"Then go we in, to know his embassy; Which I could, with

ready guess, declare, Before the Frenchmen speak a word of

it,"--King Henry V



A few succeeding days were passed amid the privations, the

uproar, and the dangers of the siege, which was vigorously

pressed by a power, against whose approaches Munro possessed

no competent means of resistance.  It appeared as if Webb,

with his army, which lay slumbering on the banks of the

Hudson, had utterly forgotten the strait to which his

countrymen were reduced.  Montcalm had filled the woods of

the portage with his savages, every yell and whoop from whom

rang through the British encampment, chilling the hearts of

men who were already but too much disposed to magnify the

danger.



Not so, however, with the besieged.  Animated by the words,

and stimulated by the examples of their leaders, they had

found their courage, and maintained their ancient

reputation, with a zeal that did justice to the stern

character of their commander.  As if satisfied with the toil

of marching through the wilderness to encounter his enemy,

the French general, though of approved skill, had neglected

to seize the adjacent mountains; whence the besieged might

have been exterminated with impunity, and which, in the more

modern warfare of the country, would not have been neglected

for a single hour.  This sort of contempt for eminences, or

rather dread of the labor of ascending them, might have been

termed the besetting weakness of the warfare of the period.

It originated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in

which, from the nature of the combats, and the density of

the forests, fortresses were rare, and artillery next to

useless.  The carelessness engendered by these usages

descended even to the war of the Revolution and lost the

States the important fortress of Ticonderoga opening a way

for the army of Burgoyne into what was then the bosom of the

country.  We look back at this ignorance, or infatuation,

whichever it may be called, with wonder, knowing that the

neglect of an eminence, whose difficulties, like those of

Mount Defiance, have been so greatly exaggerated, would, at

the present time, prove fatal to the reputation of the

engineer who had planned the works at their base, or to that

of the general whose lot it was to defend them.



The tourist, the valetudinarian, or the amateur of the

beauties of nature, who, in the train of his four-in-hand,

now rolls through the scenes we have attempted to describe,

in quest of information, health, or pleasure, or floats

steadily toward his object on those artificial waters which

have sprung up under the administration of a statesman* who

has dared to stake his political character on the hazardous

issue, is not to suppose that his ancestors traversed those

hills, or struggled with the same currents with equal

facility.  The transportation of a single heavy gun was

often considered equal to a victory gained; if happily, the

difficulties of the passage had not so far separated it from

its necessary concomitant, the ammunition, as to render it

no more than a useless tube of unwieldy iron.



* Evidently the late De Witt Clinton, who died

governor of New York in 1828.



The evils of this state of things pressed heavily on the

fortunes of the resolute Scotsman who now defended William

Henry.  Though his adversary neglected the hills, he had

planted his batteries with judgment on the plain, and caused

them to be served with vigor and skill.  Against this

assault, the besieged could only oppose the imperfect and

hasty preparations of a fortress in the wilderness.



It was in the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, and

the fourth of his own service in it, that Major Heyward

profited by a parley that had just been beaten, by repairing

to the ramparts of one of the water bastions, to breathe the

cool air from the lake, and to take a survey of the progress

of the siege.  He was alone, if the solitary sentinel who

paced the mound be excepted; for the artillerists had

hastened also to profit by the temporary suspension of their

arduous duties.  The evening was delightfully calm, and the

light air from the limpid water fresh and soothing.  It

seemed as if, with the termination of the roar of artillery

and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized the moment

to assume her mildest and most captivating form.  The sun

poured down his parting glory on the scene, without the

oppression of those fierce rays that belong to the climate

and the season.  The mountains looked green, and fresh, and

lovely, tempered with the milder light, or softened in

shadow, as thin vapors floated between them and the sun.

The numerous islands rested on the bosom of the Horican,

some low and sunken, as if embedded in the waters, and

others appearing to hover about the element, in little

hillocks of green velvet; among which the fishermen of the

beleaguering army peacefully rowed their skiffs, or floated

at rest on the glassy mirror in quiet pursuit of their

employment.



The scene was at once animated and still.  All that

pertained to nature was sweet, or simply grand; while those

parts which depended on the temper and movements of man were

lively and playful.



Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a salient

angle of the fort, and the other on the advanced battery of

the besiegers; emblems of the truth which existed, not only

to the acts, but it would seem, also, to the enmity of the

combatants.



Behind these again swung, heavily opening and closing in

silken folds, the rival standards of England and France.



A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were drawing a

net to the pebbly beach, within dangerous proximity to the

sullen but silent cannon of the fort, while the eastern

mountain was sending back the loud shouts and gay merriment

that attended their sport.  Some were rushing eagerly to

enjoy the aquatic games of the lake, and others were already

toiling their way up the neighboring hills, with the

restless curiosity of their nation.  To all these sports and

pursuits, those of the enemy who watched the besieged, and

the besieged themselves, were, however, merely the idle

though sympathizing spectators.  Here and there a picket

had, indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, which had

drawn the dusky savages around them, from their lairs in the

forest.  In short, everything wore rather the appearance of

a day of pleasure, than of an hour stolen from the dangers

and toil of a bloody and vindictive warfare.



Duncan had stood in a musing attitude, contemplating this

scene a few minutes, when his eyes were directed to the

glacis in front of the sally-port already mentioned, by the

sounds of approaching footsteps.  He walked to an angle of

the bastion, and beheld the scout advancing, under the

custody of a French officer, to the body of the fort.  The

countenance of Hawkeye was haggard and careworn, and his air

dejected, as though he felt the deepest degradation at

having fallen into the power of his enemies.  He was without

his favorite weapon, and his arms were even bound behind him

with thongs, made of the skin of a deer.  The arrival of

flags to cover the messengers of summons, had occurred so

often of late, that when Heyward first threw his careless

glance on this group, he expected to see another of the

officers of the enemy, charged with a similar office but the

instant he recognized the tall person and still sturdy

though downcast features of his friend, the woodsman, he

started with surprise, and turned to descend from the

bastion into the bosom of the work.



The sounds of other voices, however, caught his attention,

and for a moment caused him to forget his purpose.  At the

inner angle of the mound he met the sisters, walking along

the parapet, in search, like himself, of air and relief from

confinement.  They had not met from that painful moment when

he deserted them on the plain, only to assure their safety.

He had parted from them worn with care, and jaded with

fatigue; he now saw them refreshed and blooming, though

timid and anxious.  Under such an inducement it will cause

no surprise that the young man lost sight for a time, of

other objects in order to address them.  He was, however,

anticipated by the voice of the ingenuous and youthful

Alice.



"Ah! thou tyrant! thou recreant knight! he who abandons his

damsels in the very lists," she cried; "here have we been

days, nay, ages, expecting you at our feet, imploring mercy

and forgetfulness of your craven backsliding, or I should

rather say, backrunning--for verily you fled in the manner

that no stricken deer, as our worthy friend the scout would

say, could equal!"



"You know that Alice means our thanks and our blessings,"

added the graver and more thoughtful Cora.  "In truth, we

have a little wonder why you should so rigidly absent

yourself from a place where the gratitude of the daughters

might receive the support of a parent's thanks."



"Your father himself could tell you, that, though absent

from your presence, I have not been altogether forgetful of

your safety," returned the young man; "the mastery of yonder

village of huts," pointing to the neighboring entrenched

camp, "has been keenly disputed; and he who holds it is sure

to be possessed of this fort, and that which it contains.

My days and nights have all been passed there since we

separated, because I thought that duty called me thither.

But," he added, with an air of chagrin, which he endeavored,

though unsuccessfully, to conceal, "had I been aware that

what I then believed a soldier's conduct could be so

construed, shame would have been added to the list of

reasons."



"Heyward! Duncan!" exclaimed Alice, bending forward to read

his half-averted countenance, until a lock of her golden

hair rested on her flushed cheek, and nearly concealed the

tear that had started to her eye; "did I think this idle

tongue of mine had pained you, I would silence it forever.

Cora can say, if Cora would, how justly we have prized your

services, and how deep--I had almost said, how fervent--

is our gratitude."  "And will Cora attest the truth of

this?" cried Duncan, suffering the cloud to be chased from

his countenance by a smile of open pleasure.  "What says our

graver sister?  Will she find an excuse for the neglect of

the knight in the duty of a soldier?"



Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face toward

the water, as if looking on the sheet of the Horican.  When

she did bend her dark eyes on the young man, they were yet

filled with an expression of anguish that at once drove

every thought but that of kind solicitude from his mind.



"You are not well, dearest Miss Munro!" he exclaimed; "we

have trifled while you are in suffering!"



"'Tis nothing," she answered, refusing his support with

feminine reserve.  "That I cannot see the sunny side of the

picture of life, like this artless but ardent enthusiast,"

she added, laying her hand lightly, but affectionately, on

the arm of her sister, "is the penalty of experience, and,

perhaps, the misfortune of my nature.  See," she continued,

as if determined to shake off infirmity, in a sense of duty;

"look around you, Major Heyward, and tell me what a prospect

is this for the daughter of a soldier whose greatest

happiness is his honor and his military renown."



"Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances over

which he has had no control," Duncan warmly replied.  "But

your words recall me to my own duty.  I go now to your

gallant father, to hear his determination in matters of the

last moment to the defense.  God bless you in every fortune,

noble--Cora--I may and must call you."  She frankly gave

him her hand, though her lip quivered, and her cheeks

gradually became of ashly paleness.  "In every fortune, I

know you will be an ornament and honor to your sex.  Alice,

adieu"--his voice changed from admiration to tenderness--

"adieu, Alice; we shall soon meet again; as conquerors, I

trust, and amid rejoicings!"



Without waiting for an answer from either, the young man

threw himself down the grassy steps of the bastion, and

moving rapidly across the parade, he was quickly in the

presence of their father.  Munro was pacing his narrow

apartment with a disturbed air and gigantic strides as

Duncan entered.



"You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward," he said; "I

was about to request this favor."



"I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so warmly

recommended has returned in custody of the French!  I hope

there is no reason to distrust his fidelity?"



"The fidelity of 'The Long Rifle' is well known to me,"

returned Munro, "and is above suspicion; though his usual

good fortune seems, at last, to have failed.  Montcalm has

got him, and with the accursed politeness of his nation, he

has sent him in with a doleful tale, of 'knowing how I

valued the fellow, he could not think of retaining him' A

Jesuitical way that, Major Duncan Heyward, of telling a man

of his misfortunes!"



"But the general and his succor?"



"Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not

see them?" said the old soldier, laughing bitterly.



"Hoot! hoot! you're an impatient boy, sir, and cannot give

the gentlemen leisure for their march!"



"They are coming, then? The scout has said as much?"



"When? and by what path? for the dunce has omitted to tell

me this.  There is a letter, it would seem, too; and that is

the only agreeable part of the matter.  For the customary

attentions of your Marquis of Montcalm--I warrant me,

Duncan, that he of Lothian would buy a dozen such

marquisates--but if the news of the letter were bad, the

gentility of this French monsieur would certainly compel him

to let us know it."



"He keeps the letter, then, while he releases the

messenger?"



"Ay, that does he, and all for the sake of what you call

your 'bonhommie' I would venture, if the truth was known,

the fellow's grandfather taught the noble science of

dancing."



"But what says the scout? he has eyes and ears, and a

tongue.  What verbal report does he make?"



"Oh! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he is

free to tell all that he has seen and heard.  The whole

amount is this; there is a fort of his majesty's on the

banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of his gracious

highness of York, you'll know; and it is well filled with

armed men, as such a work should be."



"But was there no movement, no signs of any intention to

advance to our relief?"



"There were the morning and evening parades; and when one of

the provincial loons--you'll know, Dunca, you're half a

Scotsman yourself--when one of them dropped his powder

over his porretch, if it touched the coals, it just burned!"

Then, suddenly changing his bitter, ironical manner, to one

more grave and thoughtful, he continued: "and yet there

might, and must be, something in that letter which it would

be well to know!"



"Our decision should be speedy," said Duncan, gladly

availing himself of this change of humor, to press the more

important objects of their interview; "I cannot conceal from

you, sir, that the camp will not be much longer tenable; and

I am sorry to add, that things appear no better in the fort;

more than half the guns are bursted."



"And how should it be otherwise?  Some were fished from the

bottom of the lake; some have been rusting in woods since

the discovery of the country; and some were never guns at

all--mere privateersmen's playthings!  Do you think, sir,

you can have Woolwich Warren in the midst of a wilderness,

three thousand miles from Great Britain?"



"The walls are crumbling about our ears, and provisions

begin to fail us," continued Heyward, without regarding the

new burst of indignation; "even the men show signs of

discontent and alarm."



"Major Heyward," said Munro, turning to his youthful

associate with the dignity of his years and superior rank;

"I should have served his majesty for half a century, and

earned these gray hairs in vain, were I ignorant of all you

say, and of the pressing nature of our circumstances; still,

there is everything due to the honor of the king's arms, and

something to ourselves.  While there is hope of succor, this

fortress will I defend, though it be to be done with pebbles

gathered on the lake shore.  It is a sight of the letter,

therefore, that we want, that we may know the intentions of

the man the earl of Loudon has left among us as his

substitute."



"And can I be of service in the matter?"



"Sir, you can; the marquis of Montcalm has, in addition to

his other civilities, invited me to a personal interview

between the works and his own camp; in order, as he says, to

impart some additional information.  Now, I think it would

not be wise to show any undue solicitude to meet him, and I

would employ you, an officer of rank, as my substitute; for

it would but ill comport with the honor of Scotland to let

it be said one of her gentlemen was outdone in civility by a

native of any other country on earth."



Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering into a

discussion of the comparative merits of national courtesy,

Duncan cheerfully assented to supply the place of the

veteran in the approaching interview.  A long and

confidential communication now succeeded, during which the

young man received some additional insight into his duty,

from the experience and native acuteness of his commander,

and then the former took his leave.



As Duncan could only act as the representative of the

commandant of the fort, the ceremonies which should have

accompanied a meeting between the heads of the adverse

forces were, of course, dispensed with.  The truce still

existed, and with a roll and beat of the drum, and covered

by a little white flag, Duncan left the sally-port, within

ten minutes after his instructions were ended.  He was

received by the French officer in advance with the usual

formalities, and immediately accompanied to a distant

marquee of the renowned soldier who led the forces of

France.



The general of the enemy received the youthful messenger,

surrounded by his principal officers, and by a swarthy band

of the native chiefs, who had followed him to the field,

with the warriors of their several tribes.  Heyward paused

short, when, in glancing his eyes rapidly over the dark

group of the latter, he beheld the malignant countenance of

Magua, regarding him with the calm but sullen attention

which marked the expression of that subtle savage.  A slight

exclamation of surprise even burst from the lips of the

young man, but instantly, recollecting his errand, and the

presence in which he stood, he suppressed every appearance

of emotion, and turned to the hostile leader, who had

already advanced a step to receive him.



The marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which we

write, in the flower of his age, and, it may be added, in

the zenith of his fortunes.  But even in that enviable

situation, he was affable, and distinguished as much for his

attention to the forms of courtesy, as for that chivalrous

courage which, only two short years afterward, induced him

to throw away his life on the plains of Abraham.  Duncan, in

turning his eyes from the malign expression of Magua,

suffered them to rest with pleasure on the smiling and

polished features, and the noble military air, of the French

general.



"Monsieur," said the latter, "j'ai beaucoup de plaisir a--

bah!--ou est cet interprete?"



"Je crois, monsieur, qu'il ne sear pas necessaire," Heyward

modestly replied; "je parle un peu fran�ais."



"Ah! j'en suis bien aise," said Montcalm, taking Duncan

familiarly by the arm, and leading him deep into the

marquee, a little out of earshot; "je deteste ces fripons-

la; on ne sait jamais sur quel pie on est avec eux.  Eh,

bien! monsieur," he continued still speaking in French;

"though I should have been proud of receiving your

commandant, I am very happy that he has seen proper to

employ an officer so distinguished, and who, I am sure, is

so amiable, as yourself."



Duncan bowed low, pleased with the compliment, in spite of a

most heroic determination to suffer no artifice to allure

him into forgetfulness of the interest of his prince; and

Montcalm, after a pause of a moment, as if to collect his

thoughts, proceeded:



"Your commandant is a brave man, and well qualified to repel

my assault.  Mais, monsieur, is it not time to begin to take

more counsel of humanity, and less of your courage?  The one

as strongly characterizes the hero as the other."



"We consider the qualities as inseparable," returned Duncan,

smiling; "but while we find in the vigor of your excellency

every motive to stimulate the one, we can, as yet, see no

particular call for the exercise of the other."



Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed, but it was with the

air of a man too practised to remember the language of

flattery.  After musing a moment, he added:



"It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that your

works resist our cannon better than I had supposed.  You

know our force?"



"Our accounts vary," said Duncan, carelessly; "the highest,

however, has not exceeded twenty thousand men."



The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes keenly on

the other as if to read his thoughts; then, with a readiness

peculiar to himself, he continued, as if assenting to the

truth of an enumeration which quite doubled his army:



"It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us soldiers,

monsieur, that, do what we will, we never can conceal our

numbers.  If it were to be done at all, one would believe it

might succeed in these woods.  Though you think it too soon

to listen to the calls of humanity," he added, smiling

archly, "I may be permitted to believe that gallantry is not

forgotten by one so young as yourself.  The daughters of the

commandant, I learn, have passed into the fort since it was

invested?"



"It is true, monsieur; but, so far from weakening our

efforts, they set us an example of courage in their own

fortitude.  Were nothing but resolution necessary to repel

so accomplished a soldier as M.  de Montcalm, I would gladly

trust the defense of William Henry to the elder of those

ladies."



"We have a wise ordinance in our Salique laws, which says,

'The crown of France shall never degrade the lance to the

distaff'," said Montcalm, dryly, and with a little hauteur;

but instantly adding, with his former frank and easy air:

"as all the nobler qualities are hereditary, I can easily

credit you; though, as I said before, courage has its

limits, and humanity must not be forgotten.  I trust,

monsieur, you come authorized to treat for the surrender of

the place?"



"Has your excellency found our defense so feeble as to

believe the measure necessary?"



"I should be sorry to have the defense protracted in such a

manner as to irritate my red friends there," continued

Montcalm, glancing his eyes at the group of grave and

attentive Indians, without attending to the other's

questions; "I find it difficult, even now, to limit them to

the usages of war."



Heyward was silent; for a painful recollection of the

dangers he had so recently escaped came over his mind, and

recalled the images of those defenseless beings who had

shared in all his sufferings.



"Ces messieurs-la," said Montcalm, following up the

advantage which he conceived he had gained, "are most

formidable when baffled; and it is unnecessary to tell you

with what difficulty they are restrained in their anger.  Eh

bien, monsieur! shall we speak of the terms?"



"I fear your excellency has been deceived as to the strength

of William Henry, and the resources of its garrison!"



"I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earthen work,

that is defended by twenty-three hundred gallant men," was

the laconic reply.



"Our mounds are earthen, certainly--nor are they seated on

the rocks of Cape Diamond; but they stand on that shore

which proved so destructive to Dieskau and his army.  There

is also a powerful force within a few hours' march of us,

which we account upon as a part of our means."



"Some six or eight thousand men," returned Montcalm, with

much apparent indifference, "whom their leader wisely judges

to be safer in their works than in the field."



It was now Heyward's turn to bite his lip with vexation as

the other so coolly alluded to a force which the young man

knew to be overrated.  Both mused a little while in silence,

when Montcalm renewed the conversation, in a way that showed

he believed the visit of his guest was solely to propose

terms of capitulation.  On the other hand, Heyward began to

throw sundry inducements in the way of the French general,

to betray the discoveries he had made through the

intercepted letter.  The artifice of neither, however,

succeeded; and after a protracted and fruitless interview,

Duncan took his leave, favorably impressed with an opinion

of the courtesy and talents of the enemy's captain, but as

ignorant of what he came to learn as when he arrived.

Montcalm followed him as far as the entrance of the marquee,

renewing his invitations to the commandant of the fort to

give him an immediate meeting in the open ground between the

two armies.



There they separated, and Duncan returned to the advanced

post of the French, accompanied as before; whence he

instantly proceeded to the fort, and to the quarters of his

own commander.







CHAPTER 16



"EDG.--Before you fight the battle ope this letter."--

Lear



Major Heyward found Munro attended only by his daughters.

Alice sat upon his knee, parting the gray hairs on the

forehead of the old man with her delicate fingers; and

whenever he affected to frown on her trifling, appeasing his

assumed anger by pressing her ruby lips fondly on his

wrinkled brow.  Cora was seated nigh them, a calm and amused

looker-on; regarding the wayward movements of her more

youthful sister with that species of maternal fondness which

characterized her love for Alice.  Not only the dangers

through which they had passed, but those which still

impended above them, appeared to be momentarily forgotten,

in the soothing indulgence of such a family meeting.  It

seemed as if they had profited by the short truce, to devote

an instant to the purest and best affection; the daughters

forgetting their fears, and the veteran his cares, in the

security of the moment.  Of this scene, Duncan, who, in his

eagerness to report his arrival, had entered unannounced,

stood many moments an unobserved and a delighted spectator.

But the quick and dancing eyes of Alice soon caught a

glimpse of his figure reflected from a glass, and she sprang

blushing from her father's knee, exclaiming aloud:



"Major Heyward!"



"What of the lad?" demanded her father; "I have sent him to

crack a little with the Frenchman.  Ha, sir, you are young,

and you're nimble!  Away with you, ye baggage; as if there

were not troubles enough for a soldier, without having his

camp filled with such prattling hussies as yourself!"



Alice laughingly followed her sister, who instantly led the

way from an apartment where she perceived their presence was

no longer desirable.  Munro, instead of demanding the result

of the young man's mission, paced the room for a few

moments, with his hands behind his back, and his head

inclined toward the floor, like a man lost in thought.  At

length he raised his eyes, glistening with a father's

fondness, and exclaimed:



"They are a pair of excellent girls, Heyward, and such as

any one may boast of."



"You are not now to learn my opinion of your daughters,

Colonel Munro."



"True, lad, true," interrupted the impatient old man; "you

were about opening your mind more fully on that matter the

day you got in, but I did not think it becoming in an old

soldier to be talking of nuptial blessings and wedding jokes

when the enemies of his king were likely to be unbidden

guests at the feast.  But I was wrong, Duncan, boy, I was

wrong there; and I am now ready to hear what you have to

say."



"Notwithstanding the pleasure your assurance gives me, dear

sir, I have just now, a message from Montcalm--"



"Let the Frenchman and all his host go to the devil, sir!"

exclaimed the hasty veteran.  "He is not yet master of

William Henry, nor shall he ever be, provided Webb proves

himself the man he should.  No, sir, thank Heaven we are not

yet in such a strait that it can be said Munro is too much

pressed to discharge the little domestic duties of his own

family.  Your mother was the only child of my bosom friend,

Duncan; and I'll just give you a hearing, though all the

knights of St.  Louis were in a body at the sally-port, with

the French saint at their head, crying to speak a word under

favor.  A pretty degree of knighthood, sir, is that which

can be bought with sugar hogsheads! and then your twopenny

marquisates.  The thistle is the order for dignity and

antiquity; the veritable 'nemo me impune lacessit' of

chivalry.  Ye had ancestors in that degree, Duncan, and they

were an ornament to the nobles of Scotland."



Heyward, who perceived that his superior took a malicious

pleasure in exhibiting his contempt for the message of the

French general, was fain to humor a spleen that he knew

would be short-lived; he therefore, replied with as much

indifference as he could assume on such a subject:



"My request, as you know, sir, went so far as to presume to

the honor of being your son."



"Ay, boy, you found words to make yourself very plainly

comprehended.  But, let me ask ye, sir, have you been as

intelligible to the girl?"



"On my honor, no," exclaimed Duncan, warmly; "there would

have been an abuse of a confided trust, had I taken

advantage of my situation for such a purpose."



"Your notions are those of a gentleman, Major Heyward, and

well enough in their place.  But Cora Munro is a maiden too

discreet, and of a mind too elevated and improved, to need

the guardianship even of a father."



"Cora!"



"Ay--Cora! we are talking of your pretensions to Miss

Munro, are we not, sir?"



"I--I--I was not conscious of having mentioned her

name," said Duncan, stammering.



"And to marry whom, then, did you wish my consent, Major

Heyward?" demanded the old soldier, erecting himself in the

dignity of offended feeling.



"You have another, and not less lovely child."



"Alice!" exclaimed the father, in an astonishment equal to

that with which Duncan had just repeated the name of her

sister.



"Such was the direction of my wishes, sir."



The young man awaited in silence the result of the

extraordinary effect produced by a communication, which, as

it now appeared, was so unexpected.  For several minutes

Munro paced the chamber with long and rapid strides, his

rigid features working convulsively, and every faculty

seemingly absorbed in the musings of his own mind.  At

length, he paused directly in front of Heyward, and riveting

his eyes upon those of the other, he said, with a lip that

quivered violently:



"Duncan Heyward, I have loved you for the sake of him whose

blood is in your veins; I have loved you for your own good

qualities; and I have loved you, because I thought you would

contribute to the happiness of my child.  But all this love

would turn to hatred, were I assured that what I so much

apprehend is true."



"God forbid that any act or thought of mine should lead to

such a change!" exclaimed the young man, whose eye never

quailed under the penetrating look it encountered.  Without

adverting to the impossibility of the other's comprehending

those feelings which were hid in his own bosom, Munro

suffered himself to be appeased by the unaltered countenance

he met, and with a voice sensibly softened, he continued:



"You would be my son, Duncan, and you're ignorant of the

history of the man you wish to call your father.  Sit ye

down, young man, and I will open to you the wounds of a

seared heart, in as few words as may be suitable."



By this time, the message of Montcalm was as much forgotten

by him who bore it as by the man for whose ears it was

intended.  Each drew a chair, and while the veteran communed

a few moments with his own thoughts, apparently in sadness,

the youth suppressed his impatience in a look and attitude

of respectful attention.  At length, the former spoke:



"You'll know, already, Major Heyward, that my family was

both ancient and honorable," commenced the Scotsman; "though

it might not altogether be endowed with that amount of

wealth that should correspond with its degree.  I was,

maybe, such an one as yourself when I plighted my faith to

Alice Graham, the only child of a neighboring laird of some

estate.  But the connection was disagreeable to her father,

on more accounts than my poverty.  I did, therefore, what an

honest man should--restored the maiden her troth, and

departed the country in the service of my king.  I had seen

many regions, and had shed much blood in different lands,

before duty called me to the islands of the West Indies.

There it was my lot to form a connection with one who in

time became my wife, and the mother of Cora.  She was the

daughter of a gentleman of those isles, by a lady whose

misfortune it was, if you will," said the old man, proudly,

"to be descended, remotely, from that unfortunate class who

are so basely enslaved to administer to the wants of a

luxurious people.  Ay, sir, that is a curse, entailed on

Scotland by her unnatural union with a foreign and trading

people.  But could I find a man among them who would dare to

reflect on my child, he should feel the weight of a father's

anger!  Ha!  Major Heyward, you are yourself born at the

south, where these unfortunate beings are considered of a

race inferior to your own."



"'Tis most unfortunately true, sir," said Duncan, unable any

longer to prevent his eyes from sinking to the floor in

embarrassment.



"And you cast it on my child as a reproach!  You scorn to

mingle the blood of the Heywards with one so degraded--

lovely and virtuous though she be?" fiercely demanded the

jealous parent.



"Heaven protect me from a prejudice so unworthy of my

reason!" returned Duncan, at the same time conscious of such

a feeling, and that as deeply rooted as if it had been

ingrafted in his nature.  "The sweetness, the beauty, the

witchery of your younger daughter, Colonel Munro, might

explain my motives without imputing to me this injustice."



"Ye are right, sir," returned the old man, again changing

his tones to those of gentleness, or rather softness; "the

girl is the image of what her mother was at her years, and

before she had become acquainted with grief.  When death

deprived me of my wife I returned to Scotland, enriched by

the marriage; and, would you think it, Duncan! the suffering

angel had remained in the heartless state of celibacy twenty

long years, and that for the sake of a man who could forget

her!  She did more, sir; she overlooked my want of faith,

and, all difficulties being now removed, she took me for her

husband."



"And became the mother of Alice?" exclaimed Duncan, with an

eagerness that might have proved dangerous at a moment when

the thoughts of Munro were less occupied that at present.



"She did, indeed," said the old man, "and dearly did she pay

for the blessing she bestowed.  But she is a saint in

heaven, sir; and it ill becomes one whose foot rests on the

grave to mourn a lot so blessed.  I had her but a single

year, though; a short term of happiness for one who had seen

her youth fade in hopeless pining."



There was something so commanding in the distress of the old

man, that Heyward did not dare to venture a syllable of

consolation.  Munro sat utterly unconscious of the other's

presence, his features exposed and working with the anguish

of his regrets, while heavy tears fell from his eyes, and

rolled unheeded from his cheeks to the floor.  At length he

moved, and as if suddenly recovering his recollection; when

he arose, and taking a single turn across the room, he

approached his companion with an air of military grandeur,

and demanded:



"Have you not, Major Heyward, some communication that I

should hear from the marquis de Montcalm?"



Duncan started in his turn, and immediately commenced in an

embarrassed voice, the half-forgotten message.  It is

unnecessary to dwell upon the evasive though polite manner

with which the French general had eluded every attempt of

Heyward to worm from him the purport of the communication he

had proposed making, or on the decided, though still

polished message, by which he now gave his enemy to

understand, that, unless he chose to receive it in person,

he should not receive it at all.  As Munro listened to the

detail of Duncan, the excited feelings of the father

gradually gave way before the obligations of his station,

and when the other was done, he saw before him nothing but

the veteran, swelling with the wounded feelings of a

soldier.



"You have said enough, Major Heyward," exclaimed the angry

old man; "enough to make a volume of commentary on French

civility.  Here has this gentleman invited me to a

conference, and when I send him a capable substitute, for

ye're all that, Duncan, though your years are but few, he

answers me with a riddle."



"He may have thought less favorably of the substitute, my

dear sir; and you will remember that the invitation, which

he now repeats, was to the commandant of the works, and not

to his second."



"Well, sir, is not a substitute clothed with all the power

and dignity of him who grants the commission?  He wishes to

confer with Munro!  Faith, sir, I have much inclination to

indulge the man, if it should only be to let him behold the

firm countenance we maintain in spite of his numbers and his

summons.  There might be not bad policy in such a stroke,

young man."



Duncan, who believe it of the last importance that they

should speedily come to the contents of the letter borne by

the scout, gladly encouraged this idea.



"Without doubt, he could gather no confidence by witnessing

our indifference," he said.



"You never said truer word.  I could wish, sir, that he

would visit the works in open day, and in the form of a

storming party; that is the least failing method of proving

the countenance of an enemy, and would be far preferable to

the battering system he has chosen.  The beauty and

manliness of warfare has been much deformed, Major Heyward,

by the arts of your Monsieur Vauban.  Our ancestors were far

above such scientific cowardice!"



"It may be very true, sir; but we are now obliged to repel

art by art.  What is your pleasure in the matter of the

interview?"



"I will meet the Frenchman, and that without fear or delay;

promptly, sir, as becomes a servant of my royal master.  Go,

Major Heyward, and give them a flourish of the music; and

send out a messenger to let them know who is coming.  We

will follow with a small guard, for such respect is due to

one who holds the honor of his king in keeping; and hark'ee,

Duncan," he added, in a half whisper, though they were

alone, "it may be prudent to have some aid at hand, in case

there should be treachery at the bottom of it all."



The young man availed himself of this order to quit the

apartment; and, as the day was fast coming to a close, he

hastened without delay, to make the necessary arrangements.

A very few minutes only were necessary to parade a few

files, and to dispatch an orderly with a flag to announce

the approach of the commandant of the fort.  When Duncan had

done both these, he led the guard to the sally-port, near

which he found his superior ready, waiting his appearance.

As soon as the usual ceremonials of a military departure

were observed, the veteran and his more youthful companion

left the fortress, attended by the escort.



They had proceeded only a hundred yards from the works, when

the little array which attended the French general to the

conference was seen issuing from the hollow way which formed

the bed of a brook that ran between the batteries of the

besiegers and the fort.  From the moment that Munro left his

own works to appear in front of his enemy's, his air had

been grand, and his step and countenance highly military.

The instant he caught a glimpse of the white plume that

waved in the hat of Montcalm, his eye lighted, and age no

longer appeared to possess any influence over his vast and

still muscular person.



"Speak to the boys to be watchful, sir," he said, in an

undertone, to Duncan; "and to look well to their flints and

steel, for one is never safe with a servant of these

Louis's; at the same time, we shall show them the front of

men in deep security.  Ye'll understand me, Major Heyward!"



He was interrupted by the clamor of a drum from the

approaching Frenchmen, which was immediately answered, when

each party pushed an orderly in advance, bearing a white

flag, and the wary Scotsman halted with his guard close at

his back.  As soon as this slight salutation had passed,

Montcalm moved toward them with a quick but graceful step,

baring his head to the veteran, and dropping his spotless

plume nearly to the earth in courtesy.  If the air of Munro

was more commanding and manly, it wanted both the ease and

insinuating polish of that of the Frenchman.  Neither spoke

for a few moments, each regarding the other with curious and

interested eyes.  Then, as became his superior rank and the

nature of the interview, Montcalm broke the silence.  After

uttering the usual words of greeting, he turned to Duncan,

and continued, with a smile of recognition, speaking always

in French:



"I am rejoiced, monsieur, that you have given us the

pleasure of your company on this occasion.  There will be no

necessity to employ an ordinary interpreter; for, in your

hands, I feel the same security as if I spoke your language

myself."



Duncan acknowledged the compliment, when Montcalm, turning

to his guard, which in imitation of that of their enemies,

pressed close upon him, continued:



"En arriere, mes enfants--il fait chaud--retirez-vous un

peu."



Before Major Heyward would imitate this proof of confidence,

he glanced his eyes around the plain, and beheld with

uneasiness the numerous dusky groups of savages, who looked

out from the margin of the surrounding woods, curious

spectators of the interview.



"Monsieur de Montcalm will readily acknowledge the

difference in our situation," he said, with some

embarrassment, pointing at the same time toward those

dangerous foes, who were to be seen in almost every

direction.  "were we to dismiss our guard, we should stand

here at the mercy of our enemies."



"Monsieur, you have the plighted faith of 'un gentilhomme

Fran�ais', for your safety," returned Montcalm, laying his

hand impressively on his heart; "it should suffice."



"It shall.  Fall back," Duncan added to the officer who led

the escort; "fall back, sir, beyond hearing, and wait for

orders."



Munro witnessed this movement with manifest uneasiness; nor

did he fail to demand an instant explanation.



"Is it not our interest, sir, to betray distrust?" retorted

Duncan.  "Monsieur de Montcalm pledges his word for our

safety, and I have ordered the men to withdraw a little, in

order to prove how much we depend on his assurance."



"It may be all right, sir, but I have no overweening

reliance on the faith of these marquesses, or marquis, as

they call themselves.  Their patents of nobility are too

common to be certain that they bear the seal of true honor."



"You forget, dear sir, that we confer with an officer,

distinguished alike in Europe and America for his deeds.

From a soldier of his reputation we can have nothing to

apprehend."



The old man made a gesture of resignation, though his rigid

features still betrayed his obstinate adherence to a

distrust, which he derived from a sort of hereditary

contempt of his enemy, rather than from any present signs

which might warrant so uncharitable a feeling.  Montcalm

waited patiently until this little dialogue in demi-voice

was ended, when he drew nigher, and opened the subject of

their conference.



"I have solicited this interview from your superior,

monsieur," he said, "because I believe he will allow himself

to be persuaded that he has already done everything which is

necessary for the honor of his prince, and will now listen

to the admonitions of humanity.  I will forever bear

testimony that his resistance has been gallant, and was

continued as long as there was hope."



When this opening was translated to Munro, he answered with

dignity, but with sufficient courtesy:



"However I may prize such testimony from Monsieur Montcalm,

it will be more valuable when it shall be better merited."



The French general smiled, as Duncan gave him the purport of

this reply, and observed:



"What is now so freely accorded to approved courage, may be

refused to useless obstinacy.  Monsieur would wish to see my

camp, and witness for himself our numbers, and the

impossibility of his resisting them with success?"



"I know that the king of France is well served," returned

the unmoved Scotsman, as soon as Duncan ended his

translation; "but my own royal master has as many and as

faithful troops."



"Though not at hand, fortunately for us," said Montcalm,

without waiting, in his ardor, for the interpreter.  "There

is a destiny in war, to which a brave man knows how to

submit with the same courage that he faces his foes."



"Had I been conscious that Monsieur Montcalm was master of

the English, I should have spared myself the trouble of so

awkward a translation," said the vexed Duncan, dryly;

remembering instantly his recent by-play with Munro.



"Your pardon, monsieur," rejoined the Frenchman, suffering a

slight color to appear on his dark cheek.  "There is a vast

difference between understanding and speaking a foreign

tongue; you will, therefore, please to assist me still."

Then, after a short pause, he added: "These hills afford us

every opportunity of reconnoitering your works, messieurs,

and I am possibly as well acquainted with their weak

condition as you can be yourselves."



"Ask the French general if his glasses can reach to the

Hudson," said Munro, proudly; "and if he knows when and

where to expect the army of Webb."



"Let General Webb be his own interpreter," returned the

politic Montcalm, suddenly extending an open letter toward

Munro as he spoke; "you will there learn, monsieur, that his

movements are not likely to prove embarrassing to my army."



The veteran seized the offered paper, without waiting for

Duncan to translate the speech, and with an eagerness that

betrayed how important he deemed its contents.  As his eye

passed hastily over the words, his countenance changed from

its look of military pride to one of deep chagrin; his lip

began to quiver; and suffering the paper to fall from his

hand, his head dropped upon his chest, like that of a man

whose hopes were withered at a single blow.  Duncan caught

the letter from the ground, and without apology for the

liberty he took, he read at a glance its cruel purport.

Their common superior, so far from encouraging them to

resist, advised a speedy surrender, urging in the plainest

language, as a reason, the utter impossibility of his

sending a single man to their rescue.



"Here is no deception!" exclaimed Duncan, examining the

billet both inside and out; "this is the signature of Webb,

and must be the captured letter."



"The man has betrayed me!"  Munro at length bitterly

exclaimed; "he has brought dishonor to the door of one where

disgrace was never before known to dwell, and shame has he

heaped heavily on my gray hairs."



"Say not so," cried Duncan; "we are yet masters of the fort,

and of our honor.  Let us, then, sell our lives at such a

rate as shall make our enemies believe the purchase too

dear."



"Boy, I thank thee," exclaimed the old man, rousing himself

from his stupor; "you have, for once, reminded Munro of his

duty.  We will go back, and dig our graves behind those

ramparts."



"Messieurs," said Montcalm, advancing toward them a step, in

generous interest, "you little know Louis de St.  Veran if

you believe him capable of profiting by this letter to

humble brave men, or to build up a dishonest reputation for

himself.  Listen to my terms before you leave me."



"What says the Frenchman?" demanded the veteran, sternly;

"does he make a merit of having captured a scout, with a

note from headquarters?  Sir, he had better raise this

siege, to go and sit down before Edward if he wishes to

frighten his enemy with words."



Duncan explained the other's meaning.



"Monsieur de Montcalm, we will hear you," the veteran added,

more calmly, as Duncan ended.



"To retain the fort is now impossible," said his liberal

enemy; "it is necessary to the interests of my master that

it should be destroyed; but as for yourselves and your brave

comrades, there is no privilege dear to a soldier that shall

be denied."



"Our colors?" demanded Heyward.



"Carry them to England, and show them to your king."



"Our arms?"



"Keep them; none can use them better."



"Our march; the surrender of the place?"



"Shall all be done in a way most honorable to yourselves."



Duncan now turned to explain these proposals to his

commander, who heard him with amazement, and a sensibility

that was deeply touched by so unusual and unexpected

generosity.



"Go you, Duncan," he said; "go with this marquess, as,

indeed, marquess he should be; go to his marquee and arrange

it all.  I have lived to see two things in my old age that

never did I expect to behold.  An Englishman afraid to

support a friend, and a Frenchman too honest to profit by

his advantage."



So saying, the veteran again dropped his head to his chest,

and returned slowly toward the fort, exhibiting, by the

dejection of his air, to the anxious garrison, a harbinger

of evil tidings.



From the shock of this unexpected blow the haughty feelings

of Munro never recovered; but from that moment there

commenced a change in his determined character, which

accompanied him to a speedy grave.  Duncan remained to

settle the terms of the capitulation.  He was seen to re-

enter the works during the first watches of the night, and

immediately after a private conference with the commandant,

to leave them again.  It was then openly announced that

hostilities must cease--Munro having signed a treaty by

which the place was to be yielded to the enemy, with the

morning; the garrison to retain their arms, the colors and

their baggage, and, consequently, according to military

opinion, their honor.







CHAPTER 17



"Weave we the woof.  The thread is spun.  The web is wove.

The work is done."--Gray



The hostile armies, which lay in the wilds of the Horican,

passed the night of the ninth of August, 1757, much in the

manner they would, had they encountered on the fairest field

of Europe.  While the conquered were still, sullen, and

dejected, the victors triumphed.  But there are limits alike

to grief and joy; and long before the watches of the morning

came the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken

by a gay call from some exulting young Frenchman of the

advanced pickets, or a menacing challenge from the fort,

which sternly forbade the approach of any hostile footsteps

before the stipulated moment.  Even these occasional

threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour

which precedes the day, at which period a listener might

have sought in vain any evidence of the presence of those

armed powers that then slumbered on the shores of the "holy

lake."



It was during these moments of deep silence that the canvas

which concealed the entrance to a spacious marquee in the

French encampment was shoved aside, and a man issued from

beneath the drapery into the open air.  He was enveloped in

a cloak that might have been intended as a protection from

the chilling damps of the woods, but which served equally

well as a mantle to conceal his person.  He was permitted to

pass the grenadier, who watched over the slumbers of the

French commander, without interruption, the man making the

usual salute which betokens military deference, as the other

passed swiftly through the little city of tents, in the

direction of William Henry.  Whenever this unknown

individual encountered one of the numberless sentinels who

crossed his path, his answer was prompt, and, as it

appeared, satisfactory; for he was uniformly allowed to

proceed without further interrogation.



With the exception of such repeated but brief interruptions,

he had moved silently from the center of the camp to its

most advanced outposts, when he drew nigh the soldier who

held his watch nearest to the works of the enemy.  As he

approached he was received with the usual challenge:



"Qui vive?"



"France," was the reply.



"Le mot d'ordre?"



"La victorie," said the other, drawing so nigh as to be

heard in a loud whisper.



"C'est bien," returned the sentinel, throwing his musket

from the charge to his shoulder; "vous promenez bien matin,

monsieur!"



"Il est necessaire d'etre vigilant, mon enfant," the other

observed, dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking the

soldier close in the face as he passed him, still continuing

his way toward the British fortification.  The man started;

his arms rattled heavily as he threw them forward in the

lowest and most respectful salute; and when he had again

recovered his piece, he turned to walk his post, muttering

between his teeth:



"Il faut etre vigilant, en verite! je crois que nous avons

la, un caporal qui ne dort jamais!"



The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the words

which escaped the sentinel in his surprise; nor did he again

pause until he had reached the low strand, and in a somewhat

dangerous vicinity to the western water bastion of the fort.

The light of an obscure moon was just sufficient to render

objects, though dim, perceptible in their outlines.  He,

therefore, took the precaution to place himself against the

trunk of a tree, where he leaned for many minutes, and

seemed to contemplate the dark and silent mounds of the

English works in profound attention.  His gaze at the

ramparts was not that of a curious or idle spectator; but

his looks wandered from point to point, denoting his

knowledge of military usages, and betraying that his search

was not unaccompanied by distrust.  At length he appeared

satisfied; and having cast his eyes impatiently upward

toward the summit of the eastern mountain, as if

anticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the act

of turning on his footsteps, when a light sound on the

nearest angle of the bastion caught his ear, and induced him

to remain.



Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the

rampart, where it stood, apparently contemplating in its

turn the distant tents of the French encampment.  Its head

was then turned toward the east, as though equally anxious

for the appearance of light, when the form leaned against

the mound, and seemed to gaze upon the glassy expanse of the

waters, which, like a submarine firmament, glittered with

its thousand mimic stars.  The melancholy air, the hour,

together with the vast frame of the man who thus leaned,

musing, against the English ramparts, left no doubt as to

his person in the mind of the observant spectator.

Delicacy, no less than prudence, now urged him to retire;

and he had moved cautiously round the body of the tree for

that purpose, when another sound drew his attention, and

once more arrested his footsteps.  It was a low and almost

inaudible movement of the water, and was succeeded by a

grating of pebbles one against the other.  In a moment he

saw a dark form rise, as it were, out of the lake, and steal

without further noise to the land, within a few feet of the

place where he himself stood.  A rifle next slowly rose

between his eyes and the watery mirror; but before it could

be discharged his own hand was on the lock.



"Hugh!" exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous aim was so

singularly and so unexpectedly interrupted.



Without making any reply, the French officer laid his hand

on the shoulder of the Indian, and led him in profound

silence to a distance from the spot, where their subsequent

dialogue might have proved dangerous, and where it seemed

that one of them, at least, sought a victim.  Then throwing

open his cloak, so as to expose his uniform and the cross of

St.  Louis which was suspended at his breast, Montcalm

sternly demanded:



"What means this?  Does not my son know that the hatchet is

buried between the English and his Canadian Father?"



"What can the Hurons do?" returned the savage, speaking

also, though imperfectly, in the French language.



"Not a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces make

friends!"



"Ha, Le Renard Subtil! Methinks this is an excess of zeal

for a friend who was so late an enemy!  How many suns have

set since Le Renard struck the war-post of the English?"



"Where is that sun?" demanded the sullen savage.  "Behind

the hill; and it is dark and cold.  But when he comes again,

it will be bright and warm.  Le Subtil is the sun of his

tribe.  There have been clouds, and many mountains between

him and his nation; but now he shines and it is a clear

sky!"



"That Le Renard has power with his people, I well know,"

said Montcalm; "for yesterday he hunted for their scalps,

and to-day they hear him at the council-fire."



"Magua is a great chief."



"Let him prove it, by teaching his nation how to conduct

themselves toward our new friends."



"Why did the chief of the Canadas bring his young men into

the woods, and fire his cannon at the earthen house?"

demanded the subtle Indian.



"To subdue it.  My master owns the land, and your father was

ordered to drive off these English squatters.  They have

consented to go, and now he calls them enemies no longer."



"'Tis well.  Magua took the hatchet to color it with blood.

It is now bright; when it is red, it shall be buried."



"But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of France.

The enemies of the great king across the salt lake are his

enemies; his friends, the friends of the Hurons."



"Friends!" repeated the Indian in scorn.  "Let his father

give Magua a hand."



Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the warlike

tribes he had gathered was to be maintained by concession

rather than by power, complied reluctantly with the other's

request.  The savage placed the fingers of the French

commander on a deep scar in his bosom, and then exultingly

demanded:



"Does my father know that?"



"What warrior does not? 'Tis where a leaden bullet has cut."



"And this?" continued the Indian, who had turned his naked

back to the other, his body being without its usual calico

mantle.



"This!--my son has been sadly injured here; who has done

this?"



"Magua slept hard in the English wigwams, and the sticks

have left their mark," returned the savage, with a hollow

laugh, which did not conceal the fierce temper that nearly

choked him.  Then, recollecting himself, with sudden and

native dignity, he added: "Go; teach your young men it is

peace.  Le Renard Subtil knows how to speak to a Huron

warrior."



Without deigning to bestow further words, or to wait for any

answer, the savage cast his rifle into the hollow of his

arm, and moved silently through the encampment toward the

woods where his own tribe was known to lie.  Every few yards

as he proceeded he was challenged by the sentinels; but he

stalked sullenly onward, utterly disregarding the summons of

the soldiers, who only spared his life because they knew the

air and tread no less than the obstinate daring of an

Indian.



Montcalm lingered long and melancholy on the strand where he

had been left by his companion, brooding deeply on the

temper which his ungovernable ally had just discovered.

Already had his fair fame been tarnished by one horrid

scene, and in circumstances fearfully resembling those under

which he how found himself.  As he mused he became keenly

sensible of the deep responsibility they assume who

disregard the means to attain the end, and of all the danger

of setting in motion an engine which it exceeds human power

to control.  Then shaking off a train of reflections that he

accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph, he

retraced his steps toward his tent, giving the order as he

passed to make the signal that should arouse the army from

its slumbers.



The first tap of the French drums was echoed from the bosom

of the fort, and presently the valley was filled with the

strains of martial music, rising long, thrilling and lively

above the rattling accompaniment.  The horns of the victors

sounded merry and cheerful flourishes, until the last

laggard of the camp was at his post; but the instant the

British fifes had blown their shrill signal, they became

mute.  In the meantime the day had dawned, and when the line

of the French army was ready to receive its general, the

rays of a brilliant sun were glancing along the glittering

array.  Then that success, which was already so well known,

was officially announced; the favored band who were selected

to guard the gates of the fort were detailed, and defiled

before their chief; the signal of their approach was given,

and all the usual preparations for a change of masters were

ordered and executed directly under the guns of the

contested works.



A very different scene presented itself within the lines of

the Anglo-American army.  As soon as the warning signal was

given, it exhibited all the signs of a hurried and forced

departure.  The sullen soldiers shouldered their empty tubes

and fell into their places, like men whose blood had been

heated by the past contest, and who only desired the

opportunity to revenge an indignity which was still wounding

to their pride, concealed as it was under the observances of

military etiquette.



Women and children ran from place to place, some bearing the

scanty remnants of their baggage, and others searching in

the ranks for those countenances they looked up to for

protection.



Munro appeared among his silent troops firm but dejected.

It was evident that the unexpected blow had struck deep into

his heart, though he struggled to sustain his misfortune

with the port of a man.



Duncan was touched at the quiet and impressive exhibition of

his grief.  He had discharged his own duty, and he now

pressed to the side of the old man, to know in what

particular he might serve him.



"My daughters," was the brief but expressive reply.



"Good heavens! are not arrangements already made for their

convenience?"



"To-day I am only a soldier, Major Heyward," said the

veteran.  "All that you see here, claim alike to be my

children."



Duncan had heard enough.  Without losing one of those

moments which had now become so precious, he flew toward the

quarters of Munro, in quest of the sisters.  He found them

on the threshold of the low edifice, already prepared to

depart, and surrounded by a clamorous and weeping assemblage

of their own sex, that had gathered about the place, with a

sort of instinctive consciousness that it was the point most

likely to be protected.  Though the cheeks of Cora were pale

and her countenance anxious, she had lost none of her

firmness; but the eyes of Alice were inflamed, and betrayed

how long and bitterly she had wept.  They both, however,

received the young man with undisguised pleasure; the

former, for a novelty, being the first to speak.



"The fort is lost," she said, with a melancholy smile;

"though our good name, I trust, remains."



"'Tis brighter than ever.  But, dearest Miss Munro, it is

time to think less of others, and to make some provision for

yourself.  Military usage--pride--that pride on which

you so much value yourself, demands that your father and I

should for a little while continue with the troops.  Then

where to seek a proper protector for you against the

confusion and chances of such a scene?"



"None is necessary," returned Cora; "who will dare to injure

or insult the daughter of such a father, at a time like

this?"



"I would not leave you alone," continued the youth, looking

about him in a hurried manner, "for the command of the best

regiment in the pay of the king.  Remember, our Alice is not

gifted with all your firmness, and God only knows the terror

she might endure."



"You may be right," Cora replied, smiling again, but far

more sadly than before.  "Listen! chance has already sent us

a friend when he is most needed."



Duncan did listen, and on the instant comprehended her

meaning.  The low and serious sounds of the sacred music, so

well known to the eastern provinces, caught his ear, and

instantly drew him to an apartment in an adjacent building,

which had already been deserted by its customary tenants.

There he found David, pouring out his pious feelings through

the only medium in which he ever indulged.  Duncan waited,

until, by the cessation of the movement of the hand, he

believed the strain was ended, when, by touching his

shoulder, he drew the attention of the other to himself, and

in a few words explained his wishes.



"Even so," replied the single-minded disciple of the King of

Israel, when the young man had ended; "I have found much

that is comely and melodious in the maidens, and it is

fitting that we who have consorted in so much peril, should

abide together in peace.  I will attend them, when I have

completed my morning praise, to which nothing is now wanting

but the doxology.  Wilt thou bear a part, friend? The meter

is common, and the tune 'Southwell'."



Then, extending the little volume, and giving the pitch of

the air anew with considerate attention, David recommenced

and finished his strains, with a fixedness of manner that it

was not easy to interrupt.  Heyward was fain to wait until

the verse was ended; when, seeing David relieving himself

from the spectacles, and replacing the book, he continued.



"It will be your duty to see that none dare to approach the

ladies with any rude intention, or to offer insult or taunt

at the misfortune of their brave father.  In this task you

will be seconded by the domestics of their household."



"Even so."



"It is possible that the Indians and stragglers of the enemy

may intrude, in which case you will remind them of the terms

of the capitulation, and threaten to report their conduct to

Montcalm.  A word will suffice."



"If not, I have that here which shall," returned David,

exhibiting his book, with an air in which meekness and

confidence were singularly blended.  Here are words which,

uttered, or rather thundered, with proper emphasis, and in

measured time, shall quiet the most unruly temper:



"'Why rage the heathen furiously'?"



"Enough," said Heyward, interrupting the burst of his

musical invocation; "we understand each other; it is time

that we should now assume our respective duties."



Gamut cheerfully assented, and together they sought the

females.  Cora received her new and somewhat extraordinary

protector courteously, at least; and even the pallid

features of Alice lighted again with some of their native

archness as she thanked Heyward for his care.  Duncan took

occasion to assure them he had done the best that

circumstances permitted, and, as he believed, quite enough

for the security of their feelings; of danger there was

none.  He then spoke gladly of his intention to rejoin them

the moment he had led the advance a few miles toward the

Hudson, and immediately took his leave.



By this time the signal for departure had been given, and

the head of the English column was in motion.  The sisters

started at the sound, and glancing their eyes around, they

saw the white uniforms of the French grenadiers, who had

already taken possession of the gates of the fort.  At that

moment an enormous cloud seemed to pass suddenly above their

heads, and, looking upward, they discovered that they stood

beneath the wide folds of the standard of France.



"Let us go," said Cora; "this is no longer a fit place for

the children of an English officer."



Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they left

the parade, accompanied by the moving throng that surrounded

them.



As they passed the gates, the French officers, who had

learned their rank, bowed often and low, forbearing,

however, to intrude those attentions which they saw, with

peculiar tact, might not be agreeable.  As every vehicle and

each beast of burden was occupied by the sick and wounded,

Cora had decided to endure the fatigues of a foot march,

rather than interfere with their comforts.  Indeed, many a

maimed and feeble soldier was compelled to drag his

exhausted limbs in the rear of the columns, for the want of

the necessary means of conveyance in that wilderness.  The

whole, however, was in motion; the weak and wounded,

groaning and in suffering; their comrades silent and sullen;

and the women and children in terror, they knew not of what.



As the confused and timid throng left the protecting mounds

of the fort, and issued on the open plain, the whole scene

was at once presented to their eyes.  At a little distance

on the right, and somewhat in the rear, the French army

stood to their arms, Montcalm having collected his parties,

so soon as his guards had possession of the works.  They

were attentive but silent observers of the proceedings of

the vanquished, failing in none of the stipulated military

honors, and offering no taunt or insult, in their success,

to their less fortunate foes.  Living masses of the English,

to the amount, in the whole, of near three thousand, were

moving slowly across the plain, toward the common center,

and gradually approached each other, as they converged to

the point of their march, a vista cut through the lofty

trees, where the road to the Hudson entered the forest.

Along the sweeping borders of the woods hung a dark cloud of

savages, eyeing the passage of their enemies, and hovering

at a distance, like vultures who were only kept from

swooping on their prey by the presence and restraint of a

superior army.  A few had straggled among the conquered

columns, where they stalked in sullen discontent; attentive,

though, as yet, passive observers of the moving multitude.



The advance, with Heyward at its head, had already reached

the defile, and was slowly disappearing, when the attention

of Cora was drawn to a collection of stragglers by the

sounds of contention.  A truant provincial was paying the

forfeit of his disobedience, by being plundered of those

very effects which had caused him to desert his place in the

ranks.  The man was of powerful frame, and too avaricious to

part with his goods without a struggle.  Individuals from

either party interfered; the one side to prevent and the

other to aid in the robbery.  Voices grew loud and angry,

and a hundred savages appeared, as it were, by magic, where

a dozen only had been seen a minute before.  It was then

that Cora saw the form of Magua gliding among his

countrymen, and speaking with his fatal and artful

eloquence.  The mass of women and children stopped, and

hovered together like alarmed and fluttering birds.  But the

cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and the different

bodies again moved slowly onward.



The savages now fell back, and seemed content to let their

enemies advance without further molestation.  But, as the

female crowd approached them, the gaudy colors of a shawl

attracted the eyes of a wild and untutored Huron.  He

advanced to seize it without the least hesitation.  The

woman, more in terror than through love of the ornament,

wrapped her child in the coveted article, and folded both

more closely to her bosom.  Cora was in the act of speaking,

with an intent to advise the woman to abandon the trifle,

when the savage relinquished his hold of the shawl, and tore

the screaming infant from her arms.  Abandoning everything

to the greedy grasp of those around her, the mother darted,

with distraction in her mien, to reclaim her child.  The

Indian smiled grimly, and extended one hand, in sign of a

willingness to exchange, while, with the other, he

flourished the babe over his head, holding it by the feet as

if to enhance the value of the ransom.



"Here--here--there--all--any--everything!"

exclaimed the breathless woman, tearing the lighter articles

of dress from her person with ill-directed and trembling

fingers; "take all, but give me my babe!"



The savage spurned the worthless rags, and perceiving that

the shawl had already become a prize to another, his

bantering but sullen smile changing to a gleam of ferocity,

he dashed the head of the infant against a rock, and cast

its quivering remains to her very feet.  For an instant the

mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking wildly down

at the unseemly object, which had so lately nestled in her

bosom and smiled in her face; and then she raised her eyes

and countenance toward heaven, as if calling on God to curse

the perpetrator of the foul deed.  She was spared the sin of

such a prayer for, maddened at his disappointment, and

excited at the sight of blood, the Huron mercifully drove

his tomahawk into her own brain.  The mother sank under the

blow, and fell, grasping at her child, in death, with the

same engrossing love that had caused her to cherish it when

living.



At that dangerous moment, Magua placed his hands to his

mouth, and raised the fatal and appalling whoop.  The

scattered Indians started at the well-known cry, as coursers

bound at the signal to quit the goal; and directly there

arose such a yell along the plain, and through the arches of

the wood, as seldom burst from human lips before.  They who

heard it listened with a curdling horror at the heart,

little inferior to that dread which may be expected to

attend the blasts of the final summons.



More than two thousand raving savages broke from the forest

at the signal, and threw themselves across the fatal plain

with instinctive alacrity.  We shall not dwell on the

revolting horrors that succeeded.  Death was everywhere, and

in his most terrific and disgusting aspects.  Resistance

only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their

furious blows long after their victims were beyond the power

of their resentment.  The flow of blood might be likened to

the outbreaking of a torrent; and as the natives became

heated and maddened by the sight, many among them even

kneeled to the earth, and drank freely, exultingly,

hellishly, of the crimson tide.



The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly

into solid masses, endeavoring to awe their assailants by

the imposing appearance of a military front.  The experiment

in some measure succeeded, though far too many suffered

their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands, in the

vain hope of appeasing the savages.



In such a scene none had leisure to note the fleeting

moments.  It might have been ten minutes (it seemed an age)

that the sisters had stood riveted to one spot, horror-

stricken and nearly helpless.  When the first blow was

struck, their screaming companions had pressed upon them in

a body, rendering flight impossible; and now that fear or

death had scattered most, if not all, from around them, they

saw no avenue open, but such as conducted to the tomahawks

of their foes. On every side arose shrieks, groans,

exhortations and curses.  At this moment, Alice caught a

glimpse of the vast form of her father, moving rapidly

across the plain, in the direction of the French army.  He

was, in truth, proceeding to Montcalm, fearless of every

danger, to claim the tardy escort for which he had before

conditioned.  Fifty glittering axes and barbed spears were

offered unheeded at his life, but the savages respected his

rank and calmness, even in their fury.  The dangerous

weapons were brushed aside by the still nervous arm of the

veteran, or fell of themselves, after menacing an act that

it would seem no one had courage to perform.  Fortunately,

the vindictive Magua was searching for his victim in the

very band the veteran had just quitted.



"Father--father--we are here!" shrieked Alice, as he

passed, at no great distance, without appearing to heed

them.  "Come to us, father, or we die!"



The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones that might have

melted a heart of stone, but it was unanswered.  Once,

indeed, the old man appeared to catch the sound, for he

paused and listened; but Alice had dropped senseless on the

earth, and Cora had sunk at her side, hovering in untiring

tenderness over her lifeless form.  Munro shook his head in

disappointment, and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his

station.



"Lady," said Gamut, who, helpless and useless as he was, had

not yet dreamed of deserting his trust, "it is the jubilee

of the devils, and this is not a meet place for Christians

to tarry in.  Let us up and fly."



"Go," said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister;

"save thyself.  To me thou canst not be of further use."



David comprehended the unyielding character of her

resolution, by the simple but expressive gesture that

accompanied her words.  He gazed for a moment at the dusky

forms that were acting their hellish rites on every side of

him, and his tall person grew more erect while his chest

heaved, and every feature swelled, and seemed to speak with

the power of the feelings by which he was governed.



"If the Jewish boy might tame the great spirit of Saul by

the sound of his harp, and the words of sacred song, it may

not be amiss," he said, "to try the potency of music here."



Then raising his voice to its highest tone, he poured out a

strain so powerful as to be heard even amid the din of that

bloody field.  More than one savage rushed toward them,

thinking to rifle the unprotected sisters of their attire,

and bear away their scalps; but when they found this strange

and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused to

listen.  Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they

passed on to other and less courageous victims, openly

expressing their satisfaction at the firmness with which the

white warrior sang his death song.  Encouraged and deluded

by his success, David exerted all his powers to extend what

he believed so holy an influence.  The unwonted sounds

caught the ears of a distant savage, who flew raging from

group to group, like one who, scorning to touch the vulgar

herd, hunted for some victim more worthy of his renown.  It

was Magua, who uttered a yell of pleasure when he beheld his

ancient prisoners again at his mercy.



"Come," he said, laying his soiled hands on the dress of

Cora, "the wigwam of the Huron is still open.  Is it not

better than this place?"



"Away!" cried Cora, veiling her eyes from his revolting

aspect.



The Indian laughed tauntingly, as he held up his reeking

hand, and answered: "It is red, but it comes from white

veins!"



"Monster! there is blood, oceans of blood, upon thy soul;

thy spirit has moved this scene."



"Magua is a great chief!" returned the exulting savage,

"will the dark-hair go to his tribe?"



"Never! strike if thou wilt, and complete thy revenge."  He

hesitated a moment, and then catching the light and

senseless form of Alice in his arms, the subtle Indian moved

swiftly across the plain toward the woods.



"Hold!" shrieked Cora, following wildly on his footsteps;

"release the child! wretch! what is't you do?"



But Magua was deaf to her voice; or, rather, he knew his

power, and was determined to maintain it.



"Stay--lady--stay," called Gamut, after the unconscious

Cora.  "The holy charm is beginning to be felt, and soon

shalt thou see this horrid tumult stilled."



Perceiving that, in his turn, he was unheeded, the faithful

David followed the distracted sister, raising his voice

again in sacred song, and sweeping the air to the measure,

with his long arm, in diligent accompaniment.  In this

manner they traversed the plain, through the flying, the

wounded and the dead.  The fierce Huron was, at any time,

sufficient for himself and the victim that he bore; though

Cora would have fallen more than once under the blows of her

savage enemies, but for the extraordinary being who stalked

in her rear, and who now appeared to the astonished natives

gifted with the protecting spirit of madness.



Magua, who knew how to avoid the more pressing dangers, and

also to elude pursuit, entered the woods through a low

ravine, where he quickly found the Narragansetts, which the

travelers had abandoned so shortly before, awaiting his

appearance, in custody of a savage as fierce and malign in

his expression as himself.  Laying Alice on one of the

horses, he made a sign to Cora to mount the other.



Notwithstanding the horror excited by the presence of her

captor, there was a present relief in escaping from the

bloody scene enacting on the plain, to which Cora could not

be altogether insensible.  She took her seat, and held forth

her arms for her sister, with an air of entreaty and love

that even the Huron could not deny.  Placing Alice, then, on

the same animal with Cora, he seized the bridle, and

commenced his route by plunging deeper into the forest.

David, perceiving that he was left alone, utterly

disregarded as a subject too worthless even to destroy,

threw his long limb across the saddle of the beast they had

deserted, and made such progress in the pursuit as the

difficulties of the path permitted.



They soon began to ascend; but as the motion had a tendency

to revive the dormant faculties of her sister, the attention

of Cora was too much divided between the tenderest

solicitude in her behalf, and in listening to the cries

which were still too audible on the plain, to note the

direction in which they journeyed.  When, however, they

gained the flattened surface of the mountain-top, and

approached the eastern precipice, she recognized the spot to

which she had once before been led under the more friendly

auspices of the scout.  Here Magua suffered them to

dismount; and notwithstanding their own captivity, the

curiosity which seems inseparable from horror, induced them

to gaze at the sickening sight below.



The cruel work was still unchecked.  On every side the

captured were flying before their relentless persecutors,

while the armed columns of the Christian king stood fast in

an apathy which has never been explained, and which has left

an immovable blot on the otherwise fair escutcheon of their

leader.  Nor was the sword of death stayed until cupidity

got the mastery of revenge.  Then, indeed, the shrieks of

the wounded, and the yells of their murderers grew less

frequent, until, finally, the cries of horror were lost to

their ear, or were drowned in the loud, long and piercing

whoops of the triumphant savages.







CHAPTER 18



"Why, anything; An honorable murderer, if you will; For

naught I did in hate, but all in honor."--Othello



The bloody and inhuman scene rather incidentally mentioned

than described in the preceding chapter, is conspicuous in

the pages of colonial history by the merited title of "The

Massacre of William Henry."  It so far deepened the stain

which a previous and very similar event had left upon the

reputation of the French commander that it was not entirely

erased by his early and glorious death.  It is now becoming

obscured by time; and thousands, who know that Montcalm died

like a hero on the plains of Abraham, have yet to learn how

much he was deficient in that moral courage without which no

man can be truly great. Pages might yet be written to prove,

from this illustrious example, the defects of human

excellence; to show how easy it is for generous sentiments,

high courtesy, and chivalrous courage to lose their

influence beneath the chilling blight of selfishness, and to

exhibit to the world a man who was great in all the minor

attributes of character, but who was found wanting when it

became necessary to prove how much principle is superior to

policy.  But the task would exceed our prerogatives; and, as

history, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an

atmosphere of imaginary brightness, it is probable that

Louis de Saint Veran will be viewed by posterity only as the

gallant defender of his country, while his cruel apathy on

the shores of the Oswego and of the Horican will be

forgotten.  Deeply regretting this weakness on the part of a

sister muse, we shall at once retire from her sacred

precincts, within the proper limits of our own humble

vocation.



The third day from the capture of the fort was drawing to a

close, but the business of the narrative must still detain

the reader on the shores of the "holy lake."  When last

seen, the environs of the works were filled with violence

and uproar.  They were now possessed by stillness and death.

The blood-stained conquerors had departed; and their camp,

which had so lately rung with the merry rejoicings of a

victorious army, lay a silent and deserted city of huts.

The fortress was a smoldering ruin; charred rafters,

fragments of exploded artillery, and rent mason-work

covering its earthen mounds in confused disorder.



A frightful change had also occurred in the season.  The sun

had hid its warmth behind an impenetrable mass of vapor, and

hundreds of human forms, which had blackened beneath the

fierce heats of August, were stiffening in their deformity

before the blasts of a premature November.  The curling and

spotless mists, which had been seen sailing above the hills

toward the north, were now returning in an interminable

dusky sheet, that was urged along by the fury of a tempest.

The crowded mirror of the Horican was gone; and, in its

place, the green and angry waters lashed the shores, as if

indignantly casting back its impurities to the polluted

strand.  Still the clear fountain retained a portion of its

charmed influence, but it reflected only the somber gloom

that fell from the impending heavens.  That humid and

congenial atmosphere which commonly adorned the view,

veiling its harshness, and softening its asperities, had

disappeared, the northern air poured across the waste of

water so harsh and unmingled, that nothing was left to be

conjectured by the eye, or fashioned by the fancy.



The fiercer element had cropped the verdure of the plain,

which looked as though it were scathed by the consuming

lightning.  But, here and there, a dark green tuft rose in

the midst of the desolation; the earliest fruits of a soil

that had been fattened with human blood.  The whole

landscape, which, seen by a favoring light, and in a genial

temperature, had been found so lovely, appeared now like

some pictured allegory of life, in which objects were

arrayed in their harshest but truest colors, and without the

relief of any shadowing.



The solitary and arid blades of grass arose from the passing

gusts fearfully perceptible; the bold and rocky mountains

were too distinct in their barrenness, and the eye even

sought relief, in vain, by attempting to pierce the

illimitable void of heaven, which was shut to its gaze by

the dusky sheet of ragged and driving vapor.



The wind blew unequally; sometimes sweeping heavily along

the ground, seeming to whisper its moanings in the cold ears

of the dead, then rising in a shrill and mournful whistling,

it entered the forest with a rush that filled the air with

the leaves and branches it scattered in its path.  Amid the

unnatural shower, a few hungry ravens struggled with the

gale; but no sooner was the green ocean of woods which

stretched beneath them, passed, than they gladly stopped, at

random, to their hideous banquet.



In short, it was a scene of wildness and desolation; and it

appeared as if all who had profanely entered it had been

stricken, at a blow, by the relentless arm of death.  But

the prohibition had ceased; and for the first time since the

perpetrators of those foul deeds which had assisted to

disfigure the scene were gone, living human beings had now

presumed to approach the place.



About an hour before the setting of the sun, on the day

already mentioned, the forms of five men might have been

seen issuing from the narrow vista of trees, where the path

to the Hudson entered the forest, and advancing in the

direction of the ruined works.  At first their progress was

slow and guarded, as though they entered with reluctance

amid the horrors of the post, or dreaded the renewal of its

frightful incidents.  A light figure preceded the rest of

the party, with the caution and activity of a native;

ascending every hillock to reconnoiter, and indicating by

gestures, to his companions, the route he deemed it most

prudent to pursue.  Nor were those in the rear wanting in

every caution and foresight known to forest warfare.  One

among them, he also was an Indian, moved a little on one

flank, and watched the margin of the woods, with eyes long

accustomed to read the smallest sign of danger.  The

remaining three were white, though clad in vestments

adapted, both in quality and color, to their present

hazardous pursuit--that of hanging on the skirts of a

retiring army in the wilderness.



The effects produced by the appalling sights that constantly

arose in their path to the lake shore, were as different as

the characters of the respective individuals who composed

the party.  The youth in front threw serious but furtive

glances at the mangled victims, as he stepped lightly across

the plain, afraid to exhibit his feelings, and yet too

inexperienced to quell entirely their sudden and powerful

influence.  His red associate, however, was superior to such

a weakness.  He passed the groups of dead with a steadiness

of purpose, and an eye so calm, that nothing but long and

inveterate practise could enable him to maintain.  The

sensations produced in the minds of even the white men were

different, though uniformly sorrowful.  One, whose gray

locks and furrowed lineaments, blending with a martial air

and tread, betrayed, in spite of the disguise of a

woodsman's dress, a man long experienced in scenes of war,

was not ashamed to groan aloud, whenever a spectacle of more

than usual horror came under his view.  The young man at his

elbow shuddered, but seemed to suppress his feelings in

tenderness to his companion.  Of them all, the straggler who

brought up the rear appeared alone to betray his real

thoughts, without fear of observation or dread of

consequences.  He gazed at the most appalling sight with

eyes and muscles that knew not how to waver, but with

execrations so bitter and deep as to denote how much he

denounced the crime of his enemies.



The reader will perceive at once, in these respective

characters, the Mohicans, and their white friend, the scout;

together with Munro and Heyward.  It was, in truth, the

father in quest of his children, attended by the youth who

felt so deep a stake in their happiness, and those brave and

trusty foresters, who had already proved their skill and

fidelity through the trying scenes related.



When Uncas, who moved in front, had reached the center of

the plain, he raised a cry that drew his companions in a

body to the spot.  The young warrior had halted over a group

of females who lay in a cluster, a confused mass of dead.

Notwithstanding the revolting horror of the exhibition,

Munro and Heyward flew toward the festering heap,

endeavoring, with a love that no unseemliness could

extinguish, to discover whether any vestiges of those they

sought were to be seen among the tattered and many-colored

garments.  The father and the lover found instant relief in

the search; though each was condemned again to experience

the misery of an uncertainty that was hardly less

insupportable than the most revolting truth.  They were

standing, silent and thoughtful, around the melancholy pile,

when the scout approached.  Eyeing the sad spectacle with an

angry countenance, the sturdy woodsman, for the first time

since his entering the plain, spoke intelligibly and aloud:



"I have been on many a shocking field, and have followed a

trail of blood for weary miles," he said, "but never have I

found the hand of the devil so plain as it is here to be

seen!  Revenge is an Indian feeling, and all who know me

know that there is no cross in my veins; but this much will

I say--here, in the face of heaven, and with the power of

the Lord so manifest in this howling wilderness--that

should these Frenchers ever trust themselves again within

the range of a ragged bullet, there is one rifle which shall

play its part so long as flint will fire or powder burn!  I

leave the tomahawk and knife to such as have a natural gift

to use them.  What say you, Chingachgook," he added, in

Delaware; "shall the Hurons boast of this to their women

when the deep snows come?"



A gleam of resentment flashed across the dark lineaments of

the Mohican chief; he loosened his knife in his sheath; and

then turning calmly from the sight, his countenance settled

into a repose as deep as if he knew the instigation of

passion.



"Montcalm! Montcalm!" continued the deeply resentful and

less self-restrained scout; "they say a time must come when

all the deeds done in the flesh will be seen at a single

look; and that by eyes cleared from mortal infirmities.  Woe

betide the wretch who is born to behold this plain, with the

judgment hanging about his soul!  Ha--as I am a man of

white blood, yonder lies a red-skin, without the hair of his

head where nature rooted it!  Look to him, Delaware; it may

be one of your missing people; and he should have burial

like a stout warrior.  I see it in your eye, Sagamore; a

Huron pays for this, afore the fall winds have blown away

the scent of the blood!"



Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and, turning it

over, he found the distinguishing marks of one of those six

allied tribes, or nations, as they were called, who, while

they fought in the English ranks, were so deadly hostile to

his own people.  Spurning the loathsome object with his

foot, he turned from it with the same indifference he would

have quitted a brute carcass.  The scout comprehended the

action, and very deliberately pursued his own way,

continuing, however, his denunciations against the French

commander in the same resentful strain.



"Nothing but vast wisdom and unlimited power should dare to

sweep off men in multitudes," he added; "for it is only the

one that can know the necessity of the judgment; and what is

there, short of the other, that can replace the creatures of

the Lord?  I hold it a sin to kill the second buck afore the

first is eaten, unless a march in front, or an ambushment,

be contemplated.  It is a different matter with a few

warriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to

die with the rifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as

their natures may happen to be, white or red.  Uncas, come

this way, lad, and let the ravens settle upon the Mingo.  I

know, from often seeing it, that they have a craving for the

flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird follow

the gift of its natural appetite."



"Hugh!" exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on the

extremities of his feet, and gazing intently in his front,

frightening the ravens to some other prey by the sound and

the action.



"What is it, boy?" whispered the scout, lowering his tall

form into a crouching attitude, like a panther about to take

his leap; "God send it be a tardy Frencher, skulking for

plunder.  I do believe 'killdeer' would take an uncommon

range today!"



Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot,

and in the next instant he was seen tearing from a bush, and

waving in triumph, a fragment of the green riding-veil of

Cora.  The movement, the exhibition, and the cry which again

burst from the lips of the young Mohican, instantly drew the

whole party about him.



"My child!" said Munro, speaking quickly and wildly; "give

me my child!"



"Uncas will try," was the short and touching answer.



The simple but meaning assurance was lost on the father, who

seized the piece of gauze, and crushed it in his hand, while

his eyes roamed fearfully among the bushes, as if he equally

dreaded and hoped for the secrets they might reveal.



"Here are no dead," said Heyward; "the storm seems not to

have passed this way."



"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our

heads," returned the undisturbed scout; "but either she, or

they that have robbed her, have passed the bush; for I

remember the rag she wore to hide a face that all did love

to look upon.  Uncas, you are right; the dark-hair has been

here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to the wood;

none who could fly would remain to be murdered.  Let us

search for the marks she left; for, to Indian eyes, I

sometimes think a humming-bird leaves his trail in the air."



The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, and the

scout had hardly done speaking, before the former raised a

cry of success from the margin of the forest.  On reaching

the spot, the anxious party perceived another portion of the

veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.



"Softly, softly," said the scout, extending his long rifle

in front of the eager Heyward; "we now know our work, but

the beauty of the trail must not be deformed.  A step too

soon may give us hours of trouble.  We have them, though;

that much is beyond denial."



"Bless ye, bless ye, worthy man!" exclaimed Munro; "whither

then, have they fled, and where are my babes?"



"The path they have taken depends on many chances.  If they

have gone alone, they are quite as likely to move in a

circle as straight, and they may be within a dozen miles of

us; but if the Hurons, or any of the French Indians, have

laid hands on them, 'tis probably they are now near the

borders of the Canadas.  But what matters that?" continued

the deliberate scout, observing the powerful anxiety and

disappointment the listeners exhibited; "here are the

Mohicans and I on one end of the trail, and, rely on it, we

find the other, though they should be a hundred leagues

asunder!  Gently, gently, Uncas, you are as impatient as a

man in the settlements; you forget that light feet leave but

faint marks!"



"Hugh!" exclaimed Chingachgook, who had been occupied in

examining an opening that had been evidently made through

the low underbrush which skirted the forest; and who now

stood erect, as he pointed downward, in the attitude and

with the air of a man who beheld a disgusting serpent.



"Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a man,"

cried Heyward, bending over the indicated spot; "he has trod

in the margin of this pool, and the mark cannot be mistaken.

They are captives."



"Better so than left to starve in the wilderness," returned

the scout; "and they will leave a wider trail.  I would

wager fifty beaver skins against as many flints, that the

Mohicans and I enter their wigwams within the month!  Stoop

to it, Uncas, and try what you can make of the moccasin; for

moccasin it plainly is, and no shoe."



The young Mohican bent over the track, and removing the

scattered leaves from around the place, he examined it with

much of that sort of scrutiny that a money dealer, in these

days of pecuniary doubts, would bestow on a suspected due-

bill.  At length he arose from his knees, satisfied with the

result of the examination.



"Well, boy," demanded the attentive scout; "what does it

say?  Can you make anything of the tell-tale?"



"Le Renard Subtil!"



"Ha! that rampaging devil again! there will never be an end

of his loping till 'killdeer' has said a friendly word to

him."



Heyward reluctantly admitted the truth of this intelligence,

and now expressed rather his hopes than his doubts by

saying:



"One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable there

is some mistake."



"One moccasin like another! you may as well say that one

foot is like another; though we all know that some are long,

and others short; some broad and others narrow; some with

high, and some with low insteps; some intoed, and some out.

One moccasin is no more like another than one book is like

another: though they who can read in one are seldom able to

tell the marks of the other.  Which is all ordered for the

best, giving to every man his natural advantages.  Let me

get down to it, Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the

worse for having two opinions, instead of one."  The scout

stooped to the task, and instantly added:



"You are right, boy; here is the patch we saw so often in

the other chase.  And the fellow will drink when he can get

an opportunity; your drinking Indian always learns to walk

with a wider toe than the natural savage, it being the gift

of a drunkard to straddle, whether of white or red skin.

'Tis just the length and breadth, too! look at it, Sagamore;

you measured the prints more than once, when we hunted the

varmints from Glenn's to the health springs."



Chingachgook complied; and after finishing his short

examination, he arose, and with a quiet demeanor, he merely

pronounced the word:



"Magua!"



"Ay, 'tis a settled thing; here, then, have passed the dark-

hair and Magua."



"And not Alice?" demanded Heyward.



"Of her we have not yet seen the signs," returned the scout,

looking closely around at the trees, the bushes and the

ground.  "What have we there?  Uncas, bring hither the thing

you see dangling from yonder thorn-bush."



When the Indian had complied, the scout received the prize,

and holding it on high, he laughed in his silent but

heartfelt manner.



"'Tis the tooting we'pon of the singer! now we shall have a

trail a priest might travel," he said.  "Uncas, look for the

marks of a shoe that is long enough to uphold six feet two

of tottering human flesh.  I begin to have some hopes of the

fellow, since he has given up squalling to follow some

better trade."



"At least he has been faithful to his trust," said Heyward.

"And Cora and Alice are not without a friend."



"Yes," said Hawkeye, dropping his rifle, and leaning on it

with an air of visible contempt, "he will do their singing.

Can he slay a buck for their dinner; journey by the moss on

the beeches, or cut the throat of a Huron?  If not, the

first catbird* he meets is the cleverer of the two.  Well,

boy, any signs of such a foundation?"



* The powers of the American mocking-bird are

generally known.  But the true mocking-bird is not found so

far north as the state of New York, where it has, however,

two substitutes of inferior excellence, the catbird, so

often named by the scout, and the bird vulgarly called

ground-thresher.  Either of these last two birds is superior

to the nightingale or the lark, though, in general, the

American birds are less musical than those of Europe.



"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a

shoe; can it be that of our friend?"



"Touch the leaves lightly or you'll disconsart the

formation.  That! that is the print of a foot, but 'tis the

dark-hair's; and small it is, too, for one of such a noble

height and grand appearance.  The singer would cover it with

his heel."



"Where! let me look on the footsteps of my child," said

Munro, shoving the bushes aside, and bending fondly over the

nearly obliterated impression.  Though the tread which had

left the mark had been light and rapid, it was still plainly

visible.  The aged soldier examined it with eyes that grew

dim as he gazed; nor did he rise from this stooping posture

until Heyward saw that he had watered the trace of his

daughter's passage with a scalding tear.  Willing to divert

a distress which threatened each moment to break through the

restraint of appearances, by giving the veteran something to

do, the young man said to the scout:



"As we now possess these infallible signs, let us commence

our march.  A moment, at such a time, will appear an age to

the captives."



"It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the longest

chase," returned Hawkeye, without moving his eyes from the

different marks that had come under his view; "we know that

the rampaging Huron has passed, and the dark-hair, and the

singer, but where is she of the yellow locks and blue eyes?

Though little, and far from being as bold as her sister, she

is fair to the view, and pleasant in discourse.  Has she no

friend, that none care for her?"



"God forbid she should ever want hundreds!  Are we not now

in her pursuit?  For one, I will never cease the search till

she be found."



"In that case we may have to journey by different paths; for

here she has not passed, light and little as her footsteps

would be."



Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming to

vanish on the instant.  Without attending to this sudden

change in the other's humor, the scout after musing a moment

continued:



"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a

print as that, but the dark-hair or her sister.  We know

that the first has been here, but where are the signs of the

other?  Let us push deeper on the trail, and if nothing

offers, we must go back to the plain and strike another

scent.  Move on, Uncas, and keep your eyes on the dried

leaves.  I will watch the bushes, while your father shall

run with a low nose to the ground.  Move on, friends; the

sun is getting behind the hills."



"Is there nothing that I can do?" demanded the anxious

Heyward.



"You?" repeated the scout, who, with his red friends, was

already advancing in the order he had prescribed; "yes, you

can keep in our rear and be careful not to cross the trail."



Before they had proceeded many rods, the Indians stopped,

and appeared to gaze at some signs on the earth with more

than their usual keenness.  Both father and son spoke quick

and loud, now looking at the object of their mutual

admiration, and now regarding each other with the most

unequivocal pleasure.



"They have found the little foot!" exclaimed the scout,

moving forward, without attending further to his own portion

of the duty.  "What have we here?  An ambushment has been

planted in the spot!  No, by the truest rifle on the

frontiers, here have been them one-sided horses again!  Now

the whole secret is out, and all is plain as the north star

at midnight.  Yes, here they have mounted.  There the beasts

have been bound to a sapling, in waiting; and yonder runs

the broad path away to the north, in full sweep for the

Canadas."



"But still there are no signs of Alice, of the younger Miss

Munro," said Duncan.



"Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from the

ground should prove one.  Pass it this way, lad, that we may

look at it."



Heyward instantly knew it for a trinket that Alice was fond

of wearing, and which he recollected, with the tenacious

memory of a lover, to have seen, on the fatal morning of the

massacre, dangling from the fair neck of his mistress.  He

seized the highly prized jewel; and as he proclaimed the

fact, it vanished from the eyes of the wondering scout, who

in vain looked for it on the ground, long after it was

warmly pressed against the beating heart of Duncan.



"Pshaw!" said the disappointed Hawkeye, ceasing to rake the

leaves with the breech of his rifle; "'tis a certain sign of

age, when the sight begins to weaken.  Such a glittering

gewgaw, and not to be seen!  Well, well, I can squint along

a clouded barrel yet, and that is enough to settle all

disputes between me and the Mingoes.  I should like to find

the thing, too, if it were only to carry it to the right

owner, and that would be bringing the two ends of what I

call a long trail together, for by this time the broad St.

Lawrence, or perhaps, the Great Lakes themselves, are

between us."



"So much the more reason why we should not delay our march,"

returned Heyward; "let us proceed."



"Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the same

thing.  We are not about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to

drive a deer into the Horican, but to outlie for days and

nights, and to stretch across a wilderness where the feet of

men seldom go, and where no bookish knowledge would carry

you through harmless.  An Indian never starts on such an

expedition without smoking over his council-fire; and,

though a man of white blood, I honor their customs in this

particular, seeing that they are deliberate and wise.  We

will, therefore, go back, and light our fire to-night in the

ruins of the old fort, and in the morning we shall be fresh,

and ready to undertake our work like men, and not like

babbling women or eager boys."



Heyward saw, by the manner of the scout, that altercation

would be useless.  Munro had again sunk into that sort of

apathy which had beset him since his late overwhelming

misfortunes, and from which he was apparently to be roused

only by some new and powerful excitement.  Making a merit of

necessity, the young man took the veteran by the arm, and

followed in the footsteps of the Indians and the scout, who

had already begun to retrace the path which conducted them

to the plain.







CHAPTER 19



"Salar.--Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not

take his flesh; what's that good for?  Shy.--To bait fish

withal; if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my

revenge."--Merchant of Venice



The shades of evening had come to increase the dreariness of

the place, when the party entered the ruins of William

Henry.  The scout and his companions immediately made their

preparations to pass the night there; but with an

earnestness and sobriety of demeanor that betrayed how much

the unusual horrors they had just witnessed worked on even

their practised feelings.  A few fragments of rafters were

reared against a blackened wall; and when Uncas had covered

them slightly with brush, the temporary accommodations were

deemed sufficient.  The young Indian point3ed toward his

rude hut when his labor was ended; and Heyward, who

understood the meaning of the silent gestures, gently urged

Munro to enter.  Leaving the bereaved old man alone with his

sorrows, Duncan immediately returned into the open air, too

much excited himself to seek the repose he had recommended

to his veteran friend.



While Hawkeye and the Indians lighted their fire and took

their evening's repast, a frugal meal of dried bear's meat,

the young man paid a visit to that curtain of the

dilapidated fort which looked out on the sheet of the

Horican.  The wind had fallen, and the waves were already

rolling on the sandy beach beneath him, in a more regular

and tempered succession.  The clouds, as if tired of their

furious chase, were breaking asunder; the heavier volumes,

gathering in black masses about the horizon, while the

lighter scud still hurried above the water, or eddied among

the tops of the mountains, like broken flights of birds,

hovering around their roosts.  Here and there, a red and

fiery star struggled through the drifting vapor, furnishing

a lurid gleam of brightness to the dull aspect of the

heavens.  Within the bosom of the encircling hills, an

impenetrable darkness had already settled; and the plain lay

like a vast and deserted charnel-house, without omen or

whisper to disturb the slumbers of its numerous and hapless

tenants.



Of this scene, so chillingly in accordance with the past,

Duncan stood for many minutes a rapt observer.  His eyes

wandered from the bosom of the mound, where the foresters

were seated around their glimmering fire, to the fainter

light which still lingered in the skies, and then rested

long and anxiously on the embodied gloom, which lay like a

dreary void on that side of him where the dead reposed.  He

soon fancied that inexplicable sounds arose from the place,

though so indistinct and stolen, as to render not only their

nature but even their existence uncertain.  Ashamed of his

apprehensions, the young man turned toward the water, and

strove to divert his attention to the mimic stars that dimly

glimmered on its moving surface.  Still, his too-conscious

ears performed their ungrateful duty, as if to warn him of

some lurking danger.  At length, a swift trampling seemed,

quite audibly, to rush athwart the darkness.  Unable any

longer to quiet his uneasiness, Duncan spoke in a low voice

to the scout, requesting him to ascend the mound to the

place where he stood. Hawkeye threw his rifle across an arm

and complied, but with an air so unmoved and calm, as to

prove how much he counted on the security of their position.



"Listen!" said Duncan, when the other placed himself

deliberately at his elbow; "there are suppressed noises on

the plain which may show Montcalm has not yet entirely

deserted his conquest."



"Then ears are better than eyes," said the undisturbed

scout, who, having just deposited a portion of a bear

between his grinders, spoke thick and slow, like one whose

mouth was doubly occupied.  "I myself saw him caged in Ty,

with all his host; for your Frenchers, when they have done a

clever thing, like to get back, and have a dance, or a merry-

making, with the women over their success."



"I know not.  An Indian seldom sleeps in war, and plunder

may keep a Huron here after his tribe has departed.  It

would be well to extinguish the fire, and have a watch--

listen! you hear the noise I mean!"



"An Indian more rarely lurks about the graves.  Though ready

to slay, and not over regardful of the means, he is commonly

content with the scalp, unless when blood is hot, and temper

up; but after spirit is once fairly gone, he forgets his

enmity, and is willing to let the dead find their natural

rest.  Speaking of spirits, major, are you of opinion that

the heaven of a red-skin and of us whites will be of one and

the same?"



"No doubt--no doubt.  I thought I heard it again! or was

it the rustling of the leaves in the top of the beech?"



"For my own part," continued Hawkeye, turning his face for a

moment in the direction indicated by Heyward, but with a

vacant and careless manner, "I believe that paradise is

ordained for happiness; and that men will be indulged in it

according to their dispositions and gifts.  I, therefore,

judge that a red-skin is not far from the truth when he

believes he is to find them glorious hunting grounds of

which his traditions tell; nor, for that matter, do I think

it would be any disparagement to a man without a cross to

pass his time--"



"You hear it again?" interrupted Duncan.



"Ay, ay; when food is scarce, and when food is plenty, a

wolf grows bold," said the unmoved scout.  "There would be

picking, too, among the skins of the devils, if there was

light and time for the sport.  But, concerning the life that

is to come, major; I have heard preachers say, in the

settlements, that heaven was a place of rest.  Now, men's

minds differ as to their ideas of enjoyment.  For myself,

and I say it with reverence to the ordering of Providence,

it would be no great indulgence to be kept shut up in those

mansions of which they preach, having a natural longing for

motion and the chase."



Duncan, who was now made to understand the nature of the

noise he had heard, answered, with more attention to the

subject which the humor of the scout had chosen for

discussion, by saying:



"It is difficult to account for the feelings that may attend

the last great change."



"It would be a change, indeed, for a man who has passed his

days in the open air," returned the single-minded scout;

"and who has so often broken his fast on the head waters of

the Hudson, to sleep within sound of the roaring Mohawk.

But it is a comfort to know we serve a merciful Master,

though we do it each after his fashion, and with great

tracts of wilderness atween us--what goes there?"



"Is it not the rushing of the wolves you have mentioned?"



Hawkeye slowly shook his head, and beckoned for Duncan to

follow him to a spot to which the glare from the fire did

not extend.  When he had taken this precaution, the scout

placed himself in an attitude of intense attention and

listened long and keenly for a repetition of the low sound

that had so unexpectedly startled him.  His vigilance,

however, seemed exercised in vain; for after a fruitless

pause, he whispered to Duncan:



"We must give a call to Uncas.  The boy has Indian senses,

and he may hear what is hid from us; for, being a white-

skin, I will not deny my nature."



The young Mohican, who was conversing in a low voice with

his father, started as he heard the moaning of an owl, and,

springing on his feet, he looked toward the black mounds, as

if seeking the place whence the sounds proceeded.  The scout

repeated the call, and in a few moments, Duncan saw the

figure of Uncas stealing cautiously along the rampart, to

the spot where they stood.



Hawkeye explained his wishes in a very few words, which were

spoken in the Delaware tongue.  So soon as Uncas was in

possession of the reason why he was summoned, he threw

himself flat on the turf; where, to the eyes of Duncan, he

appeared to lie quiet and motionless.  Surprised at the

immovable attitude of the young warrior, and curious to

observe the manner in which he employed his faculties to

obtain the desired information, Heyward advanced a few

steps, and bent over the dark object on which he had kept

his eye riveted.  Then it was he discovered that the form of

Uncas vanished, and that he beheld only the dark outline of

an inequality in the embankment.



"What has become of the Mohican?" he demanded of the scout,

stepping back in amazement; "it was here that I saw him

fall, and could have sworn that here he yet remained."



"Hist! speak lower; for we know not what ears are open, and

the Mingoes are a quick-witted breed.  As for Uncas, he is

out on the plain, and the Maquas, if any such are about us,

will find their equal."



"You think that Montcalm has not called off all his Indians?

Let us give the alarm to our companions, that we may stand

to our arms.  Here are five of us, who are not unused to

meet an enemy."



"Not a word to either, as you value your life.  Look at the

Sagamore, how like a grand Indian chief he sits by the fire.

If there are any skulkers out in the darkness, they will

never discover, by his countenance, that we suspect danger

at hand."



"But they may discover him, and it will prove his death.

His person can be too plainly seen by the light of that

fire, and he will become the first and most certain victim."



"It is undeniable that now you speak the truth," returned

the scout, betraying more anxiety than was usual; "yet what

can be done?  A single suspicious look might bring on an

attack before we are ready to receive it.  He knows, by the

call I gave to Uncas, that we have struck a scent; I will

tell him that we are on the trail of the Mingoes; his Indian

nature will teach him how to act."



The scout applied his fingers to his mouth, and raised a low

hissing sound, that caused Duncan at first to start aside,

believing that he heard a serpent.  The head of Chingachgook

was resting on a hand, as he sat musing by himself but the

moment he had heard the warning of the animal whose name he

bore, he arose to an upright position, and his dark eyes

glanced swiftly and keenly on every side of him.  With his

sudden and, perhaps, involuntary movement, every appearance

of surprise or alarm ended.  His rifle lay untouched, and

apparently unnoticed, within reach of his hand.  The

tomahawk that he had loosened in his belt for the sake of

ease, was even suffered to fall from its usual situation to

the ground, and his form seemed to sink, like that of a man

whose nerves and sinews were suffered to relax for the

purpose of rest.  Cunningly resuming his former position,

though with a change of hands, as if the movement had been

made merely to relieve the limb, the native awaited the

result with a calmness and fortitude that none but an Indian

warrior would have known how to exercise.



But Heyward saw that while to a less instructed eye the

Mohican chief appeared to slumber, his nostrils were

expanded, his head was turned a little to one side, as if to

assist the organs of hearing, and that his quick and rapid

glances ran incessantly over every object within the power

of his vision.



"See the noble fellow!" whispered Hawkeye, pressing the arm

of Heyward; "he knows that a look or a motion might

disconsart our schemes, and put us at the mercy of them imps

--"



He was interrupted by the flash and report of a rifle.  The

air was filled with sparks of fire, around that spot where

the eyes of Heyward were still fastened, with admiration and

wonder.  A second look told him that Chingachgook had

disappeared in the confusion.  In the meantime, the scout

had thrown forward his rifle, like one prepared for service,

and awaited impatiently the moment when an enemy might rise

to view.  But with the solitary and fruitless attempt made

on the life of Chingachgook, the attack appeared to have

terminated.  Once or twice the listeners thought they could

distinguish the distant rustling of bushes, as bodies of

some unknown description rushed through them; nor was it

long before Hawkeye pointed out the "scampering of the

wolves," as they fled precipitately before the passage of

some intruder on their proper domains.  After an impatient

and breathless pause, a plunge was heard in the water, and

it was immediately followed by the report of another rifle.



"There goes Uncas!" said the scout; "the boy bears a smart

piece!  I know its crack, as well as a father knows the

language of his child, for I carried the gun myself until a

better offered."



"What can this mean?" demanded Duncan' "we are watched, and,

as it would seem, marked for destruction."



"Yonder scattered brand can witness that no good was

intended, and this Indian will testify that no harm has been

done," returned the scout, dropping his rifle across his arm

again, and following Chingachgook, who just then reappeared

within the circle of light, into the bosom of the work.

"How is it, Sagamore?  Are the Mingoes upon us in earnest,

or is it only one of those reptiles who hang upon the skirts

of a war-party, to scalp the dead, go in, and make their

boast among the squaws of the valiant deeds done on the pale

faces?"



Chingachgook very quietly resumed his seat; nor did he make

any reply, until after he had examined the firebrand which

had been struck by the bullet that had nearly proved fatal

to himself.  After which he was content to reply, holding a

single finger up to view, with the English monosyllable:




"One."



"I thought as much," returned Hawkeye, seating himself; "and

as he had got the cover of the lake afore Uncas pulled upon

him, it is more than probable the knave will sing his lies

about some great ambushment, in which he was outlying on the

trail of two Mohicans and a white hunter--for the officers

can be considered as little better than idlers in such a

scrimmage.  Well, let him--let him.  There are always some

honest men in every nation, though heaven knows, too, that

they are scarce among the Maquas, to look down an upstart

when he brags ag'in the face of reason.  The varlet sent his

lead within whistle of your ears, Sagamore."



Chingachgook turned a calm and incurious eye toward the

place where the ball had struck, and then resumed his former

attitude, with a composure that could not be disturbed by so

trifling an incident.  Just then Uncas glided into the

circle, and seated himself at the fire, with the same

appearance of indifference as was maintained by his father.



Of these several moments Heyward was a deeply interested and

wondering observer.  It appeared to him as though the

foresters had some secret means of intelligence, which had

escaped the vigilance of his own faculties.  In place of

that eager and garrulous narration with which a white youth

would have endeavored to communicate, and perhaps

exaggerate, that which had passed out in the darkness of the

plain, the young warrior was seemingly content to let his

deeds speak for themselves.  It was, in fact, neither the

moment nor the occasion for an Indian to boast of his

exploits; and it is probably that, had Heyward neglected to

inquire, not another syllable would, just then, have been

uttered on the subject.



"What has become of our enemy, Uncas?" demanded Duncan; "we

heard your rifle, and hoped you had not fired in vain."



The young chief removed a fold of his hunting skirt, and

quietly exposed the fatal tuft of hair, which he bore as the

symbol of victory.  Chingachgook laid his hand on the scalp,

and considered it for a moment with deep attention.  Then

dropping it, with disgust depicted in his strong features,

he ejaculated:



"Oneida!"



"Oneida!" repeated the scout, who was fast losing his

interest in the scene, in an apathy nearly assimilated to

that of his red associates, but who now advanced in uncommon

earnestness to regard the bloody badge.  "By the Lord, if

the Oneidas are outlying upon the trail, we shall by flanked

by devils on every side of us!  Now, to white eyes there is

no difference between this bit of skin and that of any other

Indian, and yet the Sagamore declares it came from the poll

of a Mingo; nay, he even names the tribe of the poor devil,

with as much ease as if the scalp was the leaf of a book,

and each hair a letter.  What right have Christian whites to

boast of their learning, when a savage can read a language

that would prove too much for the wisest of them all!  What

say you, lad, of what people was the knave?"



Uncas raised his eyes to the face of the scout, and

answered, in his soft voice:



"Oneida."



"Oneida, again! when one Indian makes a declaration it is

commonly true; but when he is supported by his people, set

it down as gospel!"



"The poor fellow has mistaken us for French," said Heyward;

"or he would not have attempted the life of a friend."



"He mistake a Mohican in his paint for a Huron!  You would

be as likely to mistake the white-coated grenadiers of

Montcalm for the scarlet jackets of the Royal Americans,"

returned the scout.  "No, no, the sarpent knew his errand;

nor was there any great mistake in the matter, for there is

but little love atween a Delaware and a Mingo, let their

tribes go out to fight for whom they may, in a white

quarrel.  For that matter, though the Oneidas do serve his

sacred majesty, who is my sovereign lord and master, I

should not have deliberated long about letting off

'killdeer' at the imp myself, had luck thrown him in my

way."



"That would have been an abuse of our treaties, and unworthy

of your character."



"When a man consort much with a people," continued Hawkeye,

"if they were honest and he no knave, love will grow up

atwixt them.  It is true that white cunning has managed to

throw the tribes into great confusion, as respects friends

and enemies; so that the Hurons and the Oneidas, who speak

the same tongue, or what may be called the same, take each

other's scalps, and the Delawares are divided among

themselves; a few hanging about their great council-fire on

their own river, and fighting on the same side with the

Mingoes while the greater part are in the Canadas, out of

natural enmity to the Maquas--thus throwing everything

into disorder, and destroying all the harmony of warfare.

Yet a red natur' is not likely to alter with every shift of

policy; so that the love atwixt a Mohican and a Mingo is

much like the regard between a white man and a sarpent."



"I regret to hear it; for I had believed those natives who

dwelt within our boundaries had found us too just and

liberal, not to identify themselves fully with our

quarrels."



"Why, I believe it is natur' to give a preference to one's

own quarrels before those of strangers.  Now, for myself, I

do love justice; and, therefore, I will not say I hate a

Mingo, for that may be unsuitable to my color and my

religion, though I will just repeat, it may have been owing

to the night that 'killdeer' had no hand in the death of

this skulking Oneida."



Then, as if satisfied with the force of his own reasons,

whatever might be their effect on the opinions of the other

disputant, the honest but implacable woodsman turned from

the fire, content to let the controversy slumber.  Heyward

withdrew to the rampart, too uneasy and too little

accustomed to the warfare of the woods to remain at ease

under the possibility of such insidious attacks.  Not so,

however, with the scout and the Mohicans.  Those acute and

long-practised senses, whose powers so often exceed the

limits of all ordinary credulity, after having detected the

danger, had enabled them to ascertain its magnitude and

duration.  Not one of the three appeared in the least to

doubt their perfect security, as was indicated by the

preparations that were soon made to sit in council over

their future proceedings.



The confusion of nations, and even of tribes, to which

Hawkeye alluded, existed at that period in the fullest

force.  The great tie of language, and, of course, of a

common origin, was severed in many places; and it was one of

its consequences, that the Delaware and the Mingo (as the

people of the Six Nations were called) were found fighting

in the same ranks, while the latter sought the scalp of the

Huron, though believed to be the root of his own stock.  The

Delawares were even divided among themselves.  Though love

for the soil which had belonged to his ancestors kept the

Sagamore of the Mohicans with a small band of followers who

were serving at Edward, under the banners of the English

king, by far the largest portion of his nation were known to

be in the field as allies of Montcalm.  The reader probably

knows, if enough has not already been gleaned form this

narrative, that the Delaware, or Lenape, claimed to be the

progenitors of that numerous people, who once were masters

of most of the eastern and northern states of America, of

whom the community of the Mohicans was an ancient and highly

honored member.



It was, of course, with a perfect understanding of the

minute and intricate interests which had armed friend

against friend, and brought natural enemies to combat by

each other's side, that the scout and his companions now

disposed themselves to deliberate on the measures that were

to govern their future movements, amid so many jarring and

savage races of men.  Duncan knew enough of Indian customs

to understand the reason that the fire was replenished, and

why the warriors, not excepting Hawkeye, took their seats

within the curl of its smoke with so much gravity and

decorum.  Placing himself at an angle of the works, where he

might be a spectator of the scene without, he awaited the

result with as much patience as he could summon.



After a short and impressive pause, Chingachgook lighted a

pipe whose bowl was curiously carved in one of the soft

stones of the country, and whose stem was a tube of wood,

and commenced smoking.  When he had inhaled enough of the

fragrance of the soothing weed, he passed the instrument

into the hands of the scout.  In this manner the pipe had

made its rounds three several times, amid the most profound

silence, before either of the party opened his lips.  Then

the Sagamore, as the oldest and highest in rank, in a few

calm and dignified words, proposed the subject for

deliberation.  He was answered by the scout; and

Chingachgook rejoined, when the other objected to his

opinions.  But the youthful Uncas continued a silent and

respectful listener, until Hawkeye, in complaisance,

demanded his opinion.  Heyward gathered from the manners of

the different speakers, that the father and son espoused one

side of a disputed question, while the white man maintained

the other.  The contest gradually grew warmer, until it was

quite evident the feelings of the speakers began to be

somewhat enlisted in the debate.



Notwithstanding the increasing warmth of the amicable

contest, the most decorous Christian assembly, not even

excepting those in which its reverend ministers are

collected, might have learned a wholesome lesson of

moderation from the forbearance and courtesy of the

disputants.  The words of Uncas were received with the same

deep attention as those which fell from the maturer wisdom

of his father; and so far from manifesting any impatience,

neither spoke in reply, until a few moments of silent

meditation were, seemingly, bestowed in deliberating on what

had already been said.



The language of the Mohicans was accompanied by gestures so

direct and natural that Heyward had but little difficulty in

following the thread of their argument.  On the other hand,

the scout was obscure; because from the lingering pride of

color, he rather affected the cold and artificial manner

which characterizes all classes of Anglo-Americans when

unexcited.  By the frequency with which the Indians

described the marks of a forest trial, it was evident they

urged a pursuit by land, while the repeated sweep of

Hawkeye's arm toward the Horican denoted that he was for a

passage across its waters.



The latter was to every appearance fast losing ground, and

the point was about to be decided against him, when he arose

to his feet, and shaking off his apathy, he suddenly assumed

the manner of an Indian, and adopted all the arts of native

eloquence.  Elevating an arm, he pointed out the track of

the sun, repeating the gesture for every day that was

necessary to accomplish their objects.  Then he delineated a

long and painful path, amid rocks and water-courses.  The

age and weakness of the slumbering and unconscious Munro

were indicated by signs too palpable to be mistaken.  Duncan

perceived that even his own powers were spoken lightly of,

as the scout extended his palm, and mentioned him by the

appellation of the "Open Hand"--a name his liberality had

purchased of all the friendly tribes.  Then came a

representation of the light and graceful movements of a

canoe, set in forcible contrast to the tottering steps of

one enfeebled and tired.  He concluded by pointing to the

scalp of the Oneida, and apparently urging the necessity of

their departing speedily, and in a manner that should leave

no trail.



The Mohicans listened gravely, and with countenances that

reflected the sentiments of the speaker.  Conviction

gradually wrought its influence, and toward the close of

Hawkeye's speech, his sentences were accompanied by the

customary exclamation of commendation.  In short, Uncas and

his father became converts to his way of thinking,

abandoning their own previously expressed opinions with a

liberality and candor that, had they been the

representatives of some great and civilized people, would

have infallibly worked their political ruin, by destroying

forever their reputation for consistency.



The instant the matter in discussion was decided, the

debate, and everything connected with it, except the result

appeared to be forgotten.  Hawkeye, without looking round to

read his triumph in applauding eyes, very composedly

stretched his tall frame before the dying embers, and closed

his own organs in sleep.



Left now in a measure to themselves, the Mohicans, whose

time had been so much devoted to the interests of others,

seized the moment to devote some attention to themselves.

Casting off at once the grave and austere demeanor of an

Indian chief, Chingachgook commenced speaking to his son in

the soft and playful tones of affection.  Uncas gladly met

the familiar air of his father; and before the hard

breathing of the scout announced that he slept, a complete

change was effected in the manner of his two associates.



It is impossible to describe the music of their language,

while thus engaged in laughter and endearments, in such a

way as to render it intelligible to those whose ears have

never listened to its melody.  The compass of their voices,

particularly that of the youth, was wonderful--extending

from the deepest bass to tones that were even feminine in

softness.  The eyes of the father followed the plastic and

ingenious movements of the son with open delight, and he

never failed to smile in reply to the other's contagious but

low laughter.  While under the influence of these gentle and

natural feelings, no trace of ferocity was to be seen in the

softened features of the Sagamore.  His figured panoply of

death looked more like a disguise assumed in mockery than a

fierce annunciation of a desire to carry destruction in his

footsteps.



After an hour had passed in the indulgence of their better

feelings, Chingachgook abruptly announced his desire to

sleep, by wrapping his head in his blanket and stretching

his form on the naked earth.  The merriment of Uncas

instantly ceased; and carefully raking the coals in such a

manner that they should impart their warmth to his father's

feet, the youth sought his own pillow among the ruins of the

place.



Imbibing renewed confidence from the security of these

experienced foresters, Heyward soon imitated their example;

and long before the night had turned, they who lay in the

bosom of the ruined work, seemed to slumber as heavily as

the unconscious multitude whose bones were already beginning

to bleach on the surrounding plain.







CHAPTER 20



"Land of Albania! let me bend mine eyes On thee; thou rugged

nurse of savage men!"--Childe Harold



The heavens were still studded with stars, when Hawkeye came

to arouse the sleepers.  Casting aside their cloaks Munro

and Heyward were on their feet while the woodsman was still

making his low calls, at the entrance of the rude shelter

where they had passed the night.  When they issued from

beneath its concealment, they found the scout awaiting their

appearance nigh by, and the only salutation between them was

the significant gesture for silence, made by their sagacious

leader.



"Think over your prayers," he whispered, as they approached

him; "for He to whom you make them, knows all tongues; that

of the heart, as well as those of the mouth.  But speak not

a syllable; it is rare for a white voice to pitch itself

properly in the woods, as we have seen by the example of

that miserable devil, the singer.  Come," he continued,

turning toward a curtain of the works; "let us get into the

ditch on this side, and be regardful to step on the stones

and fragments of wood as you go."



His companions complied, though to two of them the reasons

of this extraordinary precaution were yet a mystery.  When

they were in the low cavity that surrounded the earthen fort

on three sides, they found that passage nearly choked by the

ruins.  With care and patience, however, they succeeded in

clambering after the scout, until they reached the sandy

shore of the Horican.



"That's a trail that nothing but a nose can follow," said

the satisfied scout, looking back along their difficult way;

"grass is a treacherous carpet for a flying party to tread

on, but wood and stone take no print from a moccasin.  Had

you worn your armed boots, there might, indeed, have been

something to fear; but with the deer-skin suitably prepared,

a man may trust himself, generally, on rocks with safety.

Shove in the canoe nigher to the land, Uncas; this sand will

take a stamp as easily as the butter of the Jarmans on the

Mohawk.  Softly, lad, softly; it must not touch the beach,

or the knaves will know by what road we have left the

place."



The young man observed the precaution; and the scout, laying

a board from the ruins to the canoe, made a sign for the two

officers to enter.  When this was done, everything was

studiously restored to its former disorder; and then Hawkeye

succeeded in reaching his little birchen vessel, without

leaving behind him any of those marks which he appeared so

much to dread.  Heyward was silent until the Indians had

cautiously paddled the canoe some distance from the fort,

and within the broad and dark shadows that fell from the

eastern mountain on the glassy surface of the lake; then he

demanded:



"What need have we for this stolen and hurried departure?"



"If the blood of an Oneida could stain such a sheet of pure

water as this we float on," returned the scout, "your two

eyes would answer your own question.  Have you forgotten the

skulking reptile Uncas slew?"



"By no means.  But he was said to be alone, and dead men

give no cause for fear."



"Ay, he was alone in his deviltry! but an Indian whose tribe

counts so many warriors, need seldom fear his blood will run

without the death shriek coming speedily from some of his

enemies."



"But our presence--the authority of Colonel Munro--would

prove sufficient protection against the anger of our allies,

especially in a case where the wretch so well merited his

fate.  I trust in Heaven you have not deviated a single foot

from the direct line of our course with so slight a reason!"



"Do you think the bullet of that varlet's rifle would have

turned aside, though his sacred majesty the king had stood

in its path?" returned the stubborn scout.  "Why did not the

grand Frencher, he who is captain-general of the Canadas,

bury the tomahawks of the Hurons, if a word from a white can

work so strongly on the natur' of an Indian?"



The reply of Heyward was interrupted by a groan from Munro;

but after he had paused a moment, in deference to the sorrow

of his aged friend he resumed the subject.



"The marquis of Montcalm can only settle that error with his

God," said the young man solemnly.



"Ay, ay, now there is reason in your words, for they are

bottomed on religion and honesty.  There is a vast

difference between throwing a regiment of white coats atwixt

the tribes and the prisoners, and coaxing an angry savage to

forget he carries a knife and rifle, with words that must

begin with calling him your son.  No, no," continued the

scout, looking back at the dim shore of William Henry, which

was now fast receding, and laughing in his own silent but

heartfelt manner; "I have put a trail of water atween us;

and unless the imps can make friends with the fishes, and

hear who has paddled across their basin this fine morning,

we shall throw the length of the Horican behind us before

they have made up their minds which path to take."



"With foes in front, and foes in our rear, our journey is

like to be one of danger."



"Danger!" repeated Hawkeye, calmly; "no, not absolutely of

danger; for, with vigilant ears and quick eyes, we can

manage to keep a few hours ahead of the knaves; or, if we

must try the rifle, there are three of us who understand its

gifts as well as any you can name on the borders.  No, not

of danger; but that we shall have what you may call a brisk

push of it, is probable; and it may happen, a brush, a

scrimmage, or some such divarsion, but always where covers

are good, and ammunition abundant."



It is possible that Heyward's estimate of danger differed in

some degree from that of the scout, for, instead of

replying, he now sat in silence, while the canoe glided over

several miles of water.  Just as the day dawned, they

entered the narrows of the lake*, and stole swiftly and

cautiously among their numberless little islands.  It was by

this road that Montcalm had retired with his army, and the

adventurers knew not but he had left some of his Indians in

ambush, to protect the rear of his forces, and collect the

stragglers.  They, therefore, approached the passage with

the customary silence of their guarded habits.

* The beauties of Lake George are well known to every

American tourist.  In the height of the mountains which

surround it, and in artificial accessories, it is inferior

to the finest of the Swiss and Italian lakes, while in

outline and purity of water it is fully their equal; and in

the number and disposition of its isles and islets much

superior to them all together.  There are said to be some

hundreds of islands in a sheet of water less than thirty

miles long.  The narrows, which connect what may be called,

in truth, two lakes, are crowded with islands to such a

degree as to leave passages between them frequently of only

a few feet in width.  The lake itself varies in breadth from

one to three miles.



Chingachgook laid aside his paddle; while Uncas and the

scout urged the light vessel through crooked and intricate

channels, where every foot that they advanced exposed them

to the danger of some sudden rising on their progress.  The

eyes of the Sagamore moved warily from islet to islet, and

copse to copse, as the canoe proceeded; and, when a clearer

sheet of water permitted, his keen vision was bent along the

bald rocks and impending forests that frowned upon the

narrow strait.



Heyward, who was a doubly interested spectator, as well from

the beauties of the place as from the apprehension natural

to his situation, was just believing that he had permitted

the latter to be excited without sufficient reason, when the

paddle ceased moving, in obedience to a signal from

Chingachgook.



"Hugh!" exclaimed Uncas, nearly at the moment that the light

tap his father had made on the side of the canoe notified

them of the vicinity of danger.



"What now?" asked the scout; "the lake is as smooth as if

the winds had never blown, and I can see along its sheet for

miles; there is not so much as the black head of a loon

dotting the water."



The Indian gravely raised his paddle, and pointed in the

direction in which his own steady look was riveted.

Duncan's eyes followed the motion.  A few rods in their

front lay another of the wooded islets, but it appeared as

calm and peaceful as if its solitude had never been

disturbed by the foot of man.



"I see nothing," he said, "but land and water; and a lovely

scene it is."



"Hist!" interrupted the scout.  "Ay, Sagamore, there is

always a reason for what you do.  'Tis but a shade, and yet

it is not natural.  You see the mist, major, that is rising

above the island; you can't call it a fog, for it is more

like a streak of thin cloud--"



"It is vapor from the water."



"That a child could tell.  But what is the edging of blacker


smoke that hangs along its lower side, and which you may

trace down into the thicket of hazel?  'Tis from a fire; but

one that, in my judgment, has been suffered to burn low."



"Let us, then, push for the place, and relieve our doubts,"

said the impatient Duncan; "the party must be small that can

lie on such a bit of land."



"If you judge of Indian cunning by the rules you find in

books, or by white sagacity, they will lead you astray, if

not to your death," returned Hawkeye, examining the signs of

the place with that acuteness which distinguished him.  "If

I may be permitted to speak in this matter, it will be to

say, that we have but two things to choose between: the one

is, to return, and give up all thoughts of following the

Hurons--"



"Never!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice far too loud for

their circumstances.



"Well, well," continued Hawkeye, making a hasty sign to

repress his impatience; "I am much of your mind myself;

though I thought it becoming my experience to tell the

whole.  We must, then, make a push, and if the Indians or

Frenchers are in the narrows, run the gauntlet through these

toppling mountains.  Is there reason in my words, Sagamore?"



The Indian made no other answer than by dropping his paddle

into the water, and urging forward the canoe.  As he held

the office of directing its course, his resolution was

sufficiently indicated by the movement.  The whole party now

plied their paddles vigorously, and in a very few moments

they had reached a point whence they might command an entire

view of the northern shore of the island, the side that had

hitherto been concealed.



"There they are, by all the truth of signs," whispered the

scout, "two canoes and a smoke.  The knaves haven't yet got

their eyes out of the mist, or we should hear the accursed

whoop.  Together, friends! we are leaving them, and are

already nearly out of whistle of a bullet."



The well-known crack of a rifle, whose ball came skipping

along the placid surface of the strait, and a shrill yell

from the island, interrupted his speech, and announced that

their passage was discovered.  In another instant several

savages were seen rushing into canoes, which were soon

dancing over the water in pursuit.  These fearful precursors

of a coming struggle produced no change in the countenances

and movements of his three guides, so far as Duncan could

discover, except that the strokes of their paddles were

longer and more in unison, and caused the little bark to

spring forward like a creature possessing life and volition.



"Hold them there, Sagamore," said Hawkeye, looking coolly

backward over this left shoulder, while he still plied his

paddle; "keep them just there.  Them Hurons have never a

piece in their nation that will execute at this distance;

but 'killdeer' has a barrel on which a man may calculate."



The scout having ascertained that the Mohicans were

sufficient of themselves to maintain the requisite distance,

deliberately laid aside his paddle, and raised the fatal

rifle.  Three several times he brought the piece to his

shoulder, and when his companions were expecting its report,

he as often lowered it to request the Indians would permit

their enemies to approach a little nigher.  At length his

accurate and fastidious eye seemed satisfied, and, throwing

out his left arm on the barrel, he was slowly elevating the

muzzle, when an exclamation from Uncas, who sat in the bow,

once more caused him to suspend the shot.



"What, now, lad?" demanded Hawkeye; "you save a Huron from

the death-shriek by that word; have you reason for what you

do?"



Uncas pointed toward a rocky shore a little in their front,

whence another war canoe was darting directly across their

course.  It was too obvious now that their situation was

imminently perilous to need the aid of language to confirm

it.  The scout laid aside his rifle, and resumed the paddle,

while Chingachgook inclined the bows of the canoe a little

toward the western shore, in order to increase the distance

between them and this new enemy.  In the meantime they were

reminded of the presence of those who pressed upon their

rear, by wild and exulting shouts.  The stirring scene

awakened even Munro from his apathy.



"Let us make for the rocks on the main," he said, with the

mien of a tired soldier, "and give battle to the savages.

God forbid that I, or those attached to me and mine, should

ever trust again to the faith of any servant of the

Louis's!"



"He who wishes to prosper in Indian warfare," returned the

scout, "must not be too proud to learn from the wit of a

native.  Lay her more along the land, Sagamore; we are

doubling on the varlets, and perhaps they may try to strike

our trail on the long calculation."



Hawkeye was not mistaken; for when the Hurons found their

course was likely to throw them behind their chase they

rendered it less direct, until, by gradually bearing more

and more obliquely, the two canoes were, ere long, gliding

on parallel lines, within two hundred yards of each other.

It now became entirely a trial of speed.  So rapid was the

progress of the light vessels, that the lake curled in their

front, in miniature waves, and their motion became

undulating by its own velocity.  It was, perhaps, owing to

this circumstance, in addition to the necessity of keeping

every hand employed at the paddles, that the Hurons had not

immediate recourse to their firearms.  The exertions of the

fugitives were too severe to continue long, and the pursuers

had the advantage of numbers.  Duncan observed with

uneasiness, that the scout began to look anxiously about

him, as if searching for some further means of assisting

their flight.



"Edge her a little more from the sun, Sagamore," said the

stubborn woodsman; "I see the knaves are sparing a man to

the rifle.  A single broken bone might lose us our scalps.

Edge more from the sun and we will put the island between

us."



The expedient was not without its use.  A long, low island

lay at a little distance before them, and, as they closed

with it, the chasing canoe was compelled to take a side

opposite to that on which the pursued passed.  The scout and

his companions did not neglect this advantage, but the

instant they were hid from observation by the bushes, they

redoubled efforts that before had seemed prodigious.  The

two canoes came round the last low point, like two coursers

at the top of their speed, the fugitives taking the lead.

This change had brought them nigher to each other, however,

while it altered their relative positions.



"You showed knowledge in the shaping of a birchen bark,

Uncas, when you chose this from among the Huron canoes,"

said the scout, smiling, apparently more in satisfaction at

their superiority in the race than from that prospect of

final escape which now began to open a little upon them.

"The imps have put all their strength again at the paddles,

and we are to struggle for our scalps with bits of flattened

wood, instead of clouded barrels and true eyes.  A long

stroke, and together, friends."



"They are preparing for a shot," said Heyward; "and as we

are in a line with them, it can scarcely fail."



"Get you, then, into the bottom of the canoe," returned the

scout; "you and the colonel; it will be so much taken from

the size of the mark."



Heyward smiled, as he answered:



"It would be but an ill example for the highest in rank to

dodge, while the warriors were under fire."



"Lord! Lord! That is now a white man's courage!" exclaimed

the scout; "and like to many of his notions, not to be

maintained by reason.  Do you think the Sagamore, or Uncas,

or even I, who am a man without a cross, would deliberate

about finding a cover in the scrimmage, when an open body

would do no good?  For what have the Frenchers reared up

their Quebec, if fighting is always to be done in the

clearings?"



"All that you say is very true, my friend," replied Heyward;

"still, our customs must prevent us from doing as you wish."



A volley from the Hurons interrupted the discourse, and as

the bullets whistled about them, Duncan saw the head of

Uncas turned, looking back at himself and Munro.

Notwithstanding the nearness of the enemy, and his own great

personal danger, the countenance of the young warrior

expressed no other emotion, as the former was compelled to

think, than amazement at finding men willing to encounter so

useless an exposure.  Chingachgook was probably better

acquainted with the notions of white men, for he did not

even cast a glance aside from the riveted look his eye

maintained on the object by which he governed their course.

A ball soon struck the light and polished paddle from the

hands of the chief, and drove it through the air, far in the

advance.  A shout arose from the Hurons, who seized the

opportunity to fire another volley.  Uncas described an arc

in the water with his own blade, and as the canoe passed

swiftly on, Chingachgook recovered his paddle, and

flourishing it on high, he gave the war-whoop of the

Mohicans, and then lent his strength and skill again to the

important task.



The clamorous sounds of "Le Gros Serpent!"  "La Longue

Carabine!"  "Le Cerf Agile!"  burst at once from the canoes

behind, and seemed to give new zeal to the pursuers.  The

scout seized "killdeer" in his left hand, and elevating it

about his head, he shook it in triumph at his enemies.  The

savages answered the insult with a yell, and immediately

another volley succeeded.  The bullets pattered along the

lake, and one even pierced the bark of their little vessel.

No perceptible emotion could be discovered in the Mohicans

during this critical moment, their rigid features expressing

neither hope nor alarm; but the scout again turned his head,

and, laughing in his own silent manner, he said to Heyward:



"The knaves love to hear the sounds of their pieces; but the

eye is not to be found among the Mingoes that can calculate

a true range in a dancing canoe!  You see the dumb devils

have taken off a man to charge, and by the smallest

measurement that can be allowed, we move three feet to their

two!"



Duncan, who was not altogether as easy under this nice

estimate of distances as his companions, was glad to find,

however, that owing to their superior dexterity, and the

diversion among their enemies, they were very sensibly

obtaining the advantage.  The Hurons soon fired again, and a

bullet struck the blade of Hawkeye's paddle without injury.



"That will do," said the scout, examining the slight

indentation with a curious eye; "it would not have cut the

skin of an infant, much less of men, who, like us, have been

blown upon by the heavens in their anger.  Now, major, if

you will try to use this piece of flattened wood, I'll let

'killdeer' take a part in the conversation."



Heyward seized the paddle, and applied himself to the work

with an eagerness that supplied the place of skill, while

Hawkeye was engaged in inspecting the priming of his rifle.

The latter then took a swift aim and fired.  The Huron in

the bows of the leading canoe had risen with a similar

object, and he now fell backward, suffering his gun to

escape from his hands into the water.  In an instant,

however, he recovered his feet, though his gestures were

wild and bewildered.  At the same moment his companions

suspended their efforts, and the chasing canoes clustered

together, and became stationary.  Chingachgook and Uncas

profited by the interval to regain their wind, though Duncan

continued to work with the most persevering industry.  The

father and son now cast calm but inquiring glances at each

other, to learn if either had sustained any injury by the

fire; for both well knew that no cry or exclamation would,

in such a moment of necessity have been permitted to betray

the accident.  A few large drops of blood were trickling

down the shoulder of the Sagamore, who, when he perceived

that the eyes of Uncas dwelt too long on the sight, raised

some water in the hollow of his hand, and washing off the

stain, was content to manifest, in this simple manner, the

slightness of the injury.



"Softly, softly, major," said the scout, who by this time

had reloaded his rifle; "we are a little too far already for

a rifle to put forth its beauties, and you see yonder imps

are holding a council.  Let them come up within striking

distance--my eye may well be trusted in such a matter--

and I will trail the varlets the length of the Horican,

guaranteeing that not a shot of theirs shall, at the worst,

more than break the skin, while 'killdeer' shall touch the

life twice in three times."



"We forget our errand," returned the diligent Duncan.  "For

God's sake let us profit by this advantage, and increase our

distance from the enemy."



"Give me my children," said Munro, hoarsely; "trifle no

longer with a father's agony, but restore me my babes."



Long and habitual deference to the mandates of his superiors

had taught the scout the virtue of obedience.  Throwing a

last and lingering glance at the distant canoes, he laid

aside his rifle, and, relieving the wearied Duncan, resumed

the paddle, which he wielded with sinews that never tired.

His efforts were seconded by those of the Mohicans and a

very few minutes served to place such a sheet of water

between them and their enemies, that Heyward once more

breathed freely.



The lake now began to expand, and their route lay along a

wide reach, that was lined, as before, by high and ragged

mountains.  But the islands were few, and easily avoided.

The strokes of the paddles grew more measured and regular,

while they who plied them continued their labor, after the

close and deadly chase from which they had just relieved

themselves, with as much coolness as though their speed had

been tried in sport, rather than under such pressing, nay,

almost desperate, circumstances.



Instead of following the western shore, whither their errand

led them, the wary Mohican inclined his course more toward

those hills behind which Montcalm was known to have led his

army into the formidable fortress of Ticonderoga.  As the

Hurons, to every appearance, had abandoned the pursuit,

there was no apparent reason for this excess of caution.  It

was, however, maintained for hours, until they had reached a

bay, nigh the northern termination of the lake.  Here the

canoe was driven upon the beach, and the whole party landed.

Hawkeye and Heyward ascended an adjacent bluff, where the

former, after considering the expanse of water beneath him,

pointed out to the latter a small black object, hovering

under a headland, at the distance of several miles.



"Do you see it?" demanded the scout.  "Now, what would you

account that spot, were you left alone to white experience

to find your way through this wilderness?"



"But for its distance and its magnitude, I should suppose it

a bird.  Can it be a living object?"



"'Tis a canoe of good birchen bark, and paddled by fierce

and crafty Mingoes.  Though Providence has lent to those who

inhabit the woods eyes that would be needless to men in the

settlements, where there are inventions to assist the sight,

yet no human organs can see all the dangers which at this

moment circumvent us.  These varlets pretend to be bent

chiefly on their sun-down meal, but the moment it is dark

they will be on our trail, as true as hounds on the scent.

We must throw them off, or our pursuit of Le Renard Subtil

may be given up.  These lakes are useful at times,

especially when the game take the water," continued the

scout, gazing about him with a countenance of concern; "but

they give no cover, except it be to the fishes.  God knows

what the country would be, if the settlements should ever

spread far from the two rivers.  Both hunting and war would

lose their beauty."



"Let us not delay a moment, without some good and obvious

cause."



"I little like that smoke, which you may see worming up

along the rock above the canoe," interrupted the abstracted

scout.  "My life on it, other eyes than ours see it, and

know its meaning.  Well, words will not mend the matter, and

it is time that we were doing."



Hawkeye moved away from the lookout, and descended, musing

profoundly, to the shore.  He communicated the result of his

observations to his companions, in Delaware, and a short and

earnest consultation succeeded.  When it terminated, the

three instantly set about executing their new resolutions.



The canoe was lifted from the water, and borne on the

shoulders of the party, they proceeded into the wood, making

as broad and obvious a trail as possible.  They soon reached

the water-course, which they crossed, and, continuing

onward, until they came to an extensive and naked rock.  At

this point, where their footsteps might be expected to be no

longer visible, they retraced their route to the brook,

walking backward, with the utmost care.  They now followed

the bed of the little stream to the lake, into which they

immediately launched their canoe again.  A low point

concealed them from the headland, and the margin of the lake

was fringed for some distance with dense and overhanging

bushes.  Under the cover of these natural advantages, they

toiled their way, with patient industry, until the scout

pronounced that he believed it would be safe once more to

land.



The halt continued until evening rendered objects indistinct

and uncertain to the eye.  Then they resumed their route,

and, favored by the darkness, pushed silently and vigorously

toward the western shore.  Although the rugged outline of

mountain, to which they were steering, presented no

distinctive marks to the eyes of Duncan, the Mohican entered

the little haven he had selected with the confidence and

accuracy of an experienced pilot.



The boat was again lifted and borne into the woods, where it

was carefully concealed under a pile of brush.  The

adventurers assumed their arms and packs, and the scout

announced to Munro and Heyward that he and the Indians were

at last in readiness to proceed.







CHAPTER 21



"If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death."--

Merry Wives of Windsor



The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even

to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the States

than the deserts of Arabia, or the steppes of Tartary.  It

was the sterile and rugged district which separates the

tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the

Mohawk, and the St.  Lawrence.  Since the period of our tale

the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a

belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the

hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its

wild recesses.



As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed

the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did

not hesitate to plunge into its depth, with the freedom of

men accustomed to its privations and difficulties.  For many

hours the travelers toiled on their laborious way, guided by

a star, or following the direction of some water-course,

until the scout called a halt, and holding a short

consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire, and

made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the

night where they then were.



Imitating the example, and emulating the confidence of their

more experienced associates, Munro and Duncan slept without

fear, if now without uneasiness.  The dews were suffered to

exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was

shedding a strong and clear light in the forest, when the

travelers resumed their journey.



After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who

led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful.  He

often stopped to examine the trees; nor did he cross a

rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the

velocity, and the color of its waters.  Distrusting his own

judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were

frequent and earnest.  During one of these conferences

Heyward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent,

though, as he imagined, an interested listener.  He was

strongly tempted to address the young chief, and demand his

opinion of their progress; but the calm and dignified

demeanor of the native induced him to believe, that, like

himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and

intelligence of the seniors of the party.  At last the scout

spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of

their situation.



"When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north,"

he said, "it did not need the judgment of many long years to

tell that they would follow the valleys, and keep atween the

waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might

strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead

them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers.  Yet

here are we, within a short range of the Scaroons, and not a

sign of a trail have we crossed!  Human natur' is weak, and

it is possible we may not have taken the proper scent."



"Heaven protect us from such an error!" exclaimed Duncan.

"Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener

eyes.  Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait?"



The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but,

maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued

silent.  Chingachgook had caught the look, and motioning

with his hand, he bade him speak.  The moment this

permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed

from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy.

Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a

little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood,

exultingly, over a spot of fresh earth, that looked as

though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some

heavy animal.  The eyes of the whole party followed the

unexpected movement, and read their success in the air of

triumph that the youth assumed.



"'Tis the trail!" exclaimed the scout, advancing to the

spot; "the lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his

years."



"'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his

knowledge so long," muttered Duncan, at his elbow.



"It would have been more wonderful had he spoken without a

bidding.  No, no; your young white, who gathers his learning

from books and can measure what he knows by the page, may

conceit that his knowledge, like his legs, outruns that of

his fathers', but, where experience is the master, the

scholar is made to know the value of years, and respects

them accordingly."



"See!" said Uncas, pointing north and south, at the evident

marks of the broad trail on either side of him, "the dark-

hair has gone toward the forest."



"Hound never ran on a more beautiful scent," responded the

scout, dashing forward, at once, on the indicated route; "we

are favored, greatly favored, and can follow with high

noses.  Ay, here are both your waddling beasts: this Huron

travels like a white general.  The fellow is stricken with a

judgment, and is mad!  Look sharp for wheels, Sagamore," he

continued, looking back, and laughing in his newly awakened

satisfaction; "we shall soon have the fool journeying in a

coach, and that with three of the best pair of eyes on the

borders in his rear."



The spirits of the scout, and the astonishing success of the

chase, in which a circuitous distance of more than forty

miles had been passed, did not fail to impart a portion of

hope to the whole party.  Their advance was rapid; and made

with as much confidence as a traveler would proceed along a

wide highway.  If a rock, or a rivulet, or a bit of earth

harder than common, severed the links of the clew they

followed, the true eye of the scout recovered them at a

distance, and seldom rendered the delay of a single moment

necessary.  Their progress was much facilitated by the

certainty that Magua had found it necessary to journey

through the valleys; a circumstance which rendered the

general direction of the route sure.  Nor had the Huron

entirely neglected the arts uniformly practised by the

natives when retiring in front of an enemy.  False trails

and sudden turnings were frequent, wherever a brook or the

formation of the ground rendered them feasible; but his

pursuers were rarely deceived, and never failed to detect

their error, before they had lost either time or distance on

the deceptive track.



By the middle of the afternoon they had passed the Scaroons,

and were following the route of the declining sun.  After

descending an eminence to a low bottom, through which a

swift stream glided, they suddenly came to a place where the

party of Le Renard had made a halt.  Extinguished brands

were lying around a spring, the offals of a deer were

scattered about the place, and the trees bore evident marks

of having been browsed by the horses.  At a little distance,

Heyward discovered, and contemplated with tender emotion,

the small bower under which he was fain to believe that Cora

and Alice had reposed.  But while the earth was trodden, and

the footsteps of both men and beasts were so plainly visible

around the place, the trail appeared to have suddenly ended.



It was easy to follow the tracks of the Narragansetts, but

they seemed only to have wandered without guides, or any

other object than the pursuit of food.  At length Uncas,

who, with his father, had endeavored to trace the route of

the horses, came upon a sign of their presence that was

quite recent.  Before following the clew, he communicated

his success to his companions; and while the latter were

consulting on the circumstance, the youth reappeared,

leading the two fillies, with their saddles broken, and the

housings soiled, as though they had been permitted to run at

will for several days.



"What should this prove?" said Duncan, turning pale, and

glancing his eyes around him, as if he feared the brush and

leaves were about to give up some horrid secret.



"That our march is come to a quick end, and that we are in

an enemy's country," returned the scout.  "Had the knave

been pressed, and the gentle ones wanted horses to keep up

with the party, he might have taken their scalps; but

without an enemy at his heels, and with such rugged beasts

as these, he would not hurt a hair of their heads.  I know

your thoughts, and shame be it to our color that you have

reason for them; but he who thinks that even a Mingo would

ill-treat a woman, unless it be to tomahawk her, knows

nothing of Indian natur', or the laws of the woods.  No, no;

I have heard that the French Indians had come into these

hills to hunt the moose, and we are getting within scent of

their camp.  Why should they not?  The morning and evening

guns of Ty may be heard any day among these mountains; for

the Frenchers are running a new line atween the provinces of

the king and the Canadas.  It is true that the horses are

here, but the Hurons are gone; let us, then, hunt for the

path by which they parted."



Hawkeye and the Mohicans now applied themselves to their

task in good earnest.  A circle of a few hundred feet in

circumference was drawn, and each of the party took a

segment for his portion.  The examination, however, resulted

in no discovery.  The impressions of footsteps were

numerous, but they all appeared like those of men who had

wandered about the spot, without any design to quit it.

Again the scout and his companions made the circuit of the

halting place, each slowly following the other, until they

assembled in the center once more, no wiser than when they

started.



"Such cunning is not without its deviltry," exclaimed

Hawkeye, when he met the disappointed looks of his

assistants.



"We must get down to it, Sagamore, beginning at the spring,

and going over the ground by inches.  The Huron shall never

brag in his tribe that he has a foot which leaves no print."



Setting the example himself, the scout engaged in the

scrutiny with renewed zeal.  Not a leaf was left unturned.

The sticks were removed, and the stones lifted; for Indian

cunning was known frequently to adopt these objects as

covers, laboring with the utmost patience and industry, to

conceal each footstep as they proceeded.  Still no discovery

was made.  At length Uncas, whose activity had enabled him

to achieve his portion of the task the soonest, raked the

earth across the turbid little rill which ran from the

spring, and diverted its course into another channel.  So

soon as its narrow bed below the dam was dry, he stooped

over it with keen and curious eyes.  A cry of exultation

immediately announced the success of the young warrior.  The

whole party crowded to the spot where Uncas pointed out the

impression of a moccasin in the moist alluvion.



"This lad will be an honor to his people," said Hawkeye,

regarding the trail with as much admiration as a naturalist

would expend on the tusk of a mammoth or the rib of a

mastodon; "ay, and a thorn in the sides of the Hurons.  Yet

that is not the footstep of an Indian! the weight is too

much on the heel, and the toes are squared, as though one of

the French dancers had been in, pigeon-winging his tribe!

Run back, Uncas, and bring me the size of the singer's foot.

You will find a beautiful print of it just opposite yon

rock, agin the hillside."



While the youth was engaged in this commission, the scout

and Chingachgook were attentively considering the

impressions.  The measurements agreed, and the former

unhesitatingly pronounced that the footstep was that of

David, who had once more been made to exchange his shoes for

moccasins.



"I can now read the whole of it, as plainly as if I had seen

the arts of Le Subtil," he added; "the singer being a man

whose gifts lay chiefly in his throat and feet, was made to

go first, and the others have trod in his steps, imitating

their formation."



"But," cried Duncan, "I see no signs of--"



"The gentle ones," interrupted the scout; "the varlet has

found a way to carry them, until he supposed he had thrown

any followers off the scent.  My life on it, we see their

pretty little feet again, before many rods go by."



The whole party now proceeded, following the course of the

rill, keeping anxious eyes on the regular impressions.  The

water soon flowed into its bed again, but watching the

ground on either side, the foresters pursued their way

content with knowing that the trail lay beneath.  More than

half a mile was passed, before the rill rippled close around

the base of an extensive and dry rock.  Here they paused to

make sure that the Hurons had not quitted the water.



It was fortunate they did so.  For the quick and active

Uncas soon found the impression of a foot on a bunch of

moss, where it would seem an Indian had inadvertently

trodden.  Pursuing the direction given by this discovery, he

entered the neighboring thicket, and struck the trail, as

fresh and obvious as it had been before they reached the

spring.  Another shout announced the good fortune of the

youth to his companions, and at once terminated the search.



"Ay, it has been planned with Indian judgment," said the

scout, when the party was assembled around the place, "and

would have blinded white eyes."



"Shall we proceed?" demanded Heyward.



"Softly, softly, we know our path; but it is good to examine

the formation of things.  This is my schooling, major; and

if one neglects the book, there is little chance of learning

from the open land of Providence.  All is plain but one

thing, which is the manner that the knave contrived to get

the gentle ones along the blind trail.  Even a Huron would

be too proud to let their tender feet touch the water."



"Will this assist in explaining the difficulty?" said

Heyward, pointing toward the fragments of a sort of

handbarrow, that had been rudely constructed of boughs, and

bound together with withes, and which now seemed carelessly

cast aside as useless.



"'Tis explained!" cried the delighted Hawkeye.  "If them

varlets have passed a minute, they have spent hours in

striving to fabricate a lying end to their trail!  Well,

I've known them to waste a day in the same manner to as

little purpose.  Here we have three pair of moccasins, and

two of little feet.  It is amazing that any mortal beings

can journey on limbs so small!  Pass me the thong of

buckskin, Uncas, and let me take the length of this foot.

By the Lord, it is no longer than a child's and yet the

maidens are tall and comely.  That Providence is partial in

its gifts, for its own wise reasons, the best and most

contented of us must allow."



"The tender limbs of my daughters are unequal to these

hardships," said Munro, looking at the light footsteps of

his children, with a parent's love; "we shall find their

fainting forms in this desert."



"Of that there is little cause of fear," returned the scout,

slowly shaking his head; "this is a firm and straight,

though a light step, and not over long.  See, the heel has

hardly touched the ground; and there the dark-hair has made

a little jump, from root to root.  No, no; my knowledge for

it, neither of them was nigh fainting, hereaway.  Now, the

singer was beginning to be footsore and leg-weary, as is

plain by his trail.  There, you see, he slipped; here he has

traveled wide and tottered; and there again it looks as

though he journeyed on snowshoes.  Ay, ay, a man who uses

his throat altogether, can hardly give his legs a proper

training."



From such undeniable testimony did the practised woodsman

arrive at the truth, with nearly as much certainty and

precision as if he had been a witness of all those events

which his ingenuity so easily elucidated.  Cheered by these

assurances, and satisfied by a reasoning that was so

obvious, while it was so simple, the party resumed its

course, after making a short halt, to take a hurried repast.



When the meal was ended, the scout cast a glance upward at

the setting sun, and pushed forward with a rapidity which

compelled Heyward and the still vigorous Munro to exert all

their muscles to equal.  Their route now lay along the

bottom which has already been mentioned.  As the Hurons had

made no further efforts to conceal their footsteps, the

progress of the pursuers was no longer delayed by

uncertainty.  Before an hour had elapsed, however, the speed

of Hawkeye sensibly abated, and his head, instead of

maintaining its former direct and forward look, began to

turn suspiciously from side to side, as if he were conscious

of approaching danger.  He soon stopped again, and waited

for the whole party to come up.



"I scent the Hurons," he said, speaking to the Mohicans;

"yonder is open sky, through the treetops, and we are

getting too nigh their encampment.  Sagamore, you will take

the hillside, to the right; Uncas will bend along the brook

to the left, while I will try the trail.  If anything should

happen, the call will be three croaks of a crow.  I saw one

of the birds fanning himself in the air, just beyond the

dead oak--another sign that we are approaching an

encampment."



The Indians departed their several ways without reply, while

Hawkeye cautiously proceeded with the two gentlemen.

Heyward soon pressed to the side of their guide, eager to

catch an early glimpse of those enemies he had pursued with

so much toil and anxiety.  His companion told him to steal

to the edge of the wood, which, as usual, was fringed with a

thicket, and wait his coming, for he wished to examine

certain suspicious signs a little on one side.  Duncan

obeyed, and soon found himself in a situation to command a

view which he found as extraordinary as it was novel.



The trees of many acres had been felled, and the glow of a

mild summer's evening had fallen on the clearing, in

beautiful contrast to the gray light of the forest.  A short

distance from the place where Duncan stood, the stream had

seemingly expanded into a little lake, covering most of the

low land, from mountain to mountain.  The water fell out of

this wide basin, in a cataract so regular and gentle, that

it appeared rather to be the work of human hands than

fashioned by nature.  A hundred earthen dwellings stood on

the margin of the lake, and even in its waters, as though

the latter had overflowed its usual banks.  Their rounded

roofs, admirably molded for defense against the weather,

denoted more of industry and foresight than the natives were

wont to bestow on their regular habitations, much less on

those they occupied for the temporary purposes of hunting

and war.  In short, the whole village or town, whichever it

might be termed, possessed more of method and neatness of

execution, than the white men had been accustomed to believe

belonged, ordinarily, to the Indian habits.  It appeared,

however, to be deserted.  At least, so thought Duncan for

many minutes; but, at length, he fancied he discovered

several human forms advancing toward him on all fours, and

apparently dragging in the train some heavy, and as he was

quick to apprehend, some formidable engine.  Just then a few

dark-looking heads gleamed out of the dwellings, and the

place seemed suddenly alive with beings, which, however,

glided from cover to cover so swiftly, as to allow no

opportunity of examining their humors or pursuits.  Alarmed

at these suspicious and inexplicable movements, he was about

to attempt the signal of the crows, when the rustling of

leaves at hand drew his eyes in another direction.



The young man started, and recoiled a few paces

instinctively, when he found himself within a hundred yards

of a stranger Indian.  Recovering his recollection on the

instant, instead of sounding an alarm, which might prove

fatal to himself, he remained stationary, an attentive

observer of the other's motions.



An instant of calm observation served to assure Duncan that

he was undiscovered.  The native, like himself, seemed

occupied in considering the low dwellings of the village,

and the stolen movements of its inhabitants.  It was

impossible to discover the expression of his features

through the grotesque mask of paint under which they were

concealed, though Duncan fancied it was rather melancholy

than savage.  His head was shaved, as usual, with the

exception of the crown, from whose tuft three or four faded

feathers from a hawk's wing were loosely dangling.  A ragged

calico mantle half encircled his body, while his nether

garment was composed of an ordinary shirt, the sleeves of

which were made to perform the office that is usually

executed by a much more commodious arrangement.  His legs

were, however, covered with a pair of good deer-skin

moccasins.  Altogether, the appearance of the individual was

forlorn and miserable.



Duncan was still curiously observing the person of his

neighbor when the scout stole silently and cautiously to his

side.



"You see we have reached their settlement or encampment,"

whispered the young man; "and here is one of the savages

himself, in a very embarrassing position for our further

movements."



Hawkeye started, and dropped his rifle, when, directed by

the finger of his companion, the stranger came under his

view.  Then lowering the dangerous muzzle he stretched

forward his long neck, as if to assist a scrutiny that was

already intensely keen.



"The imp is not a Huron," he said, "nor of any of the Canada

tribes; and yet you see, by his clothes, the knave has been

plundering a white.  Ay, Montcalm has raked the woods for

his inroad, and a whooping, murdering set of varlets has he

gathered together.  Can you see where he has put his rifle

or his bow?"



"He appears to have no arms; nor does he seem to be

viciously inclined.  Unless he communicate the alarm to his

fellows, who, as you see, are dodging about the water, we

have but little to fear from him."



The scout turned to Heyward, and regarded him a moment with

unconcealed amazement.  Then opening wide his mouth, he

indulged in unrestrained and heartfelt laughter, though in

that silent and peculiar manner which danger had so long

taught him to practise.



Repeating the words, "Fellows who are dodging about the

water!" he added, "so much for schooling and passing a

boyhood in the settlements!  The knave has long legs,

though, and shall not be trusted.  Do you keep him under

your rifle while I creep in behind, through the bush, and

take him alive.  Fire on no account."



Heyward had already permitted his companion to bury part of

his person in the thicket, when, stretching forth his arm,

he arrested him, in order to ask:



"If I see you in danger, may I not risk a shot?"



Hawkeye regarded him a moment, like one who knew not how to

take the question; then, nodding his head, he answered,

still laughing, though inaudibly:



"Fire a whole platoon, major."



In the next moment he was concealed by the leaves.  Duncan

waited several minutes in feverish impatience, before he

caught another glimpse of the scout.  Then he reappeared,

creeping along the earth, from which his dress was hardly

distinguishable, directly in the rear of his intended

captive.  Having reached within a few yards of the latter,

he arose to his feet, silently and slowly.  At that instant,

several loud blows were struck on the water, and Duncan

turned his eyes just in time to perceive that a hundred dark

forms were plunging, in a body, into the troubled little

sheet.  Grasping his rifle his looks were again bent on the

Indian near him.  Instead of taking the alarm, the

unconscious savage stretched forward his neck, as if he also

watched the movements about the gloomy lake, with a sort of

silly curiosity.  In the meantime, the uplifted hand of

Hawkeye was above him.  But, without any apparent reason, it

was withdrawn, and its owner indulged in another long,

though still silent, fit of merriment.  When the peculiar

and hearty laughter of Hawkeye was ended, instead of

grasping his victim by the throat, he tapped him lightly on

the shoulder, and exclaimed aloud:



"How now, friend! have you a mind to teach the beavers to

sing?"



"Even so," was the ready answer.  "It would seem that the

Being that gave them power to improve His gifts so well,

would not deny them voices to proclaim His praise."







CHAPTER 22



"Bot.--Abibl we all met? Qui.--Pat--pat; and here's

a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal."--

Midsummer Night's Dream



The reader may better imagine, that we describe the surprise

of Heyward.  His lurking Indians were suddenly converted

into four-footed beasts; his lake into a beaver pond; his

cataract into a dam, constructed by those industrious and

ingenious quadrupeds; and a suspected enemy into his tried

friend, David Gamut, the master of psalmody.  The presence

of the latter created so many unexpected hopes relative to

the sisters that, without a moment's hesitation, the young

man broke out of his ambush, and sprang forward to join the

two principal actors in the scene.



The merriment of Hawkeye was not easily appeased.  Without

ceremony, and with a rough hand, he twirled the supple Gamut

around on his heel, and more than once affirmed that the

Hurons had done themselves great credit in the fashion of

his costume.  Then, seizing the hand of the other, he

squeezed it with a grip that brought tears into the eyes of

the placid David, and wished him joy of his new condition.



"You were about opening your throat-practisings among the

beavers, were ye?" he said.  "The cunning devils know half

the trade already, for they beat the time with their tails,

as you heard just now; and in good time it was, too, or

'killdeer' might have sounded the first note among them.  I

have known greater fools, who could read and write, than an

experienced old beaver; but as for squalling, the animals

are born dumb!  What think you of such a song as this?"



David shut his sensitive ears, and even Heyward apprised as

he was of the nature of the cry, looked upward in quest of

the bird, as the cawing of a crow rang in the air about

them.



"See!" continued the laughing scout, as he pointed toward

the remainder of the party, who, in obedience to the signal,

were already approaching; "this is music which has its

natural virtues; it brings two good rifles to my elbow, to

say nothing of the knives and tomahawks.  But we see that

you are safe; now tell us what has become of the maidens."



"They are captives to the heathen," said David; "and, though

greatly troubled in spirit, enjoying comfort and safety in

the body."



"Both!" demanded the breathless Heyward.



"Even so.  Though our wayfaring has been sore and our

sustenance scanty, we have had little other cause for

complaint, except the violence done our feelings, by being

thus led in captivity into a far land."



"Bless ye for these very words!" exclaimed the trembling

Munro; "I shall then receive my babes, spotless and angel-

like, as I lost them!"



"I know not that their delivery is at hand," returned the

doubting David; "the leader of these savages is possessed of

an evil spirit that no power short of Omnipotence can tame.

I have tried him sleeping and waking, but neither sounds nor

language seem to touch his soul."



"Where is the knave?" bluntly interrupted the scout.



"He hunts the moose to-day, with his young men; and

tomorrow, as I hear, they pass further into the forests, and

nigher to the borders of Canada.  The elder maiden is

conveyed to a neighboring people, whose lodges are situate

beyond yonder black pinnacle of rock; while the younger is

detained among the women of the Hurons, whose dwellings are

but two short miles hence, on a table-land, where the fire

had done the office of the axe, and prepared the place for

their reception."



"Alice, my gentle Alice!" murmured Heyward; "she has lost

the consolation of her sister's presence!"



"Even so.  But so far as praise and thanksgiving in psalmody

can temper the spirit in affliction, she has not suffered."



"Has she then a heart for music?"



"Of the graver and more solemn character; though it must be

acknowledged that, in spite of all my endeavors, the maiden

weeps oftener than she smiles.  At such moments I forbear to

press the holy songs; but there are many sweet and

comfortable periods of satisfactory communication, when the

ears of the savages are astounded with the upliftings of our

voices."



"And why are you permitted to go at large, unwatched?"



David composed his features into what he intended should

express an air of modest humility, before he meekly replied:



"Little be the praise to such a worm as I.  But, though the

power of psalmody was suspended in the terrible business of

that field of blood through which we have passed, it has

recovered its influence even over the souls of the heathen,

and I am suffered to go and come at will."



The scout laughed, and, tapping his own forehead

significantly, he perhaps explained the singular indulgence

more satisfactorily when he said:



"The Indians never harm a non-composser.  But why, when the

path lay open before your eyes, did you not strike back on

your own trail (it is not so blind as that which a squirrel

would make), and bring in the tidings to Edward?"



The scout, remembering only his own sturdy and iron nature,

had probably exacted a task that David, under no

circumstances, could have performed.  But, without entirely

losing the meekness of his air, the latter was content to

answer:



"Though my soul would rejoice to visit the habitations of

Christendom once more, my feet would rather follow the

tender spirits intrusted to my keeping, even into the

idolatrous province of the Jesuits, than take one step

backward, while they pined in captivity and sorrow."



Though the figurative language of David was not very

intelligible, the sincere and steady expression of his eye,

and the glow of his honest countenance, were not easily

mistaken.  Uncas pressed closer to his side, and regarded

the speaker with a look of commendation, while his father

expressed his satisfaction by the ordinary pithy exclamation

of approbation.  The scout shook his head as he rejoined:



"The Lord never intended that the man should place all his

endeavors in his throat, to the neglect of other and better

gifts!  But he has fallen into the hands of some silly

woman, when he should have been gathering his education

under a blue sky, among the beauties of the forest.  Here,

friend; I did intend to kindle a fire with this tooting-

whistle of thine; but, as you value the thing, take it, and

blow your best on it."



Gamut received his pitch-pipe with as strong an expression

of pleasure as he believed compatible with the grave

functions he exercised.  After essaying its virtues

repeatedly, in contrast with his own voice, and, satisfying

himself that none of its melody was lost, he made a very

serious demonstration toward achieving a few stanzas of one

of the longest effusions in the little volume so often

mentioned.



Heyward, however, hastily interrupted his pious purpose by

continuing questions concerning the past and present

condition of his fellow captives, and in a manner more

methodical than had been permitted by his feelings in the

opening of their interview.  David, though he regarded his

treasure with longing eyes, was constrained to answer,

especially as the venerable father took a part in the

interrogatories, with an interest too imposing to be denied.

Nor did the scout fail to throw in a pertinent inquiry,

whenever a fitting occasion presented.  In this manner,

though with frequent interruptions which were filled with

certain threatening sounds from the recovered instrument,

the pursuers were put in possession of such leading

circumstances as were likely to prove useful in

accomplishing their great and engrossing object--the

recovery of the sisters.  The narrative of David was simple,

and the facts but few.



Magua had waited on the mountain until a safe moment to

retire presented itself, when he had descended, and taken

the route along the western side of the Horican in direction

of the Canadas.  As the subtle Huron was familiar with the

paths, and well knew there was no immediate danger of

pursuit, their progress had been moderate, and far from

fatiguing.  It appeared from the unembellished statement of

David, that his own presence had been rather endured than

desired; though even Magua had not been entirely exempt from

that veneration with which the Indians regard those whom the

Great Spirit had visited in their intellects.  At night, the

utmost care had been taken of the captives, both to prevent

injury from the damps of the woods and to guard against an

escape.  At the spring, the horses were turned loose, as has

been seen; and, notwithstanding the remoteness and length of

their trail, the artifices already named were resorted to,

in order to cut off every clue to their place of retreat.

On their arrival at the encampment of his people, Magua, in

obedience to a policy seldom departed from, separated his

prisoners.  Cora had been sent to a tribe that temporarily

occupied an adjacent valley, though David was far too

ignorant of the customs and history of the natives, to be

able to declare anything satisfactory concerning their name

or character.  He only knew that they had not engaged in the

late expedition against William Henry; that, like the Hurons

themselves they were allies of Montcalm; and that they

maintained an amicable, though a watchful intercourse with

the warlike and savage people whom chance had, for a time,

brought in such close and disagreeable contact with

themselves.



The Mohicans and the scout listened to his interrupted and

imperfect narrative, with an interest that obviously

increased as he proceeded; and it was while attempting to

explain the pursuits of the community in which Cora was

detained, that the latter abruptly demanded:



"Did you see the fashion of their knives? wee they of

English or French formation?"



"My thoughts were bent on no such vanities, but rather

mingled in consolation with those of the maidens."



"The time may come when you will not consider the knife of a

savage such a despicable vanity," returned the scout, with a

strong expression of contempt for the other's dullness.

"Had they held their corn feast--or can you say anything

of the totems of the tribe?"



"Of corn, we had many and plentiful feasts; for the grain,

being in the milk is both sweet to the mouth and comfortable

to the stomach.  Of totem, I know not the meaning; but if it

appertaineth in any wise to the art of Indian music, it need

not be inquired after at their hands.  They never join their

voices in praise, and it would seem that they are among the

profanest of the idolatrous."



"Therein you belie the natur' of an Indian.  Even the Mingo

adores but the true and loving God.  'Tis wicked fabrication

of the whites, and I say it to the shame of my color that

would make the warrior bow down before images of his own

creation.  It is true, they endeavor to make truces to the

wicked one--as who would not with an enemy he cannot

conquer! but they look up for favor and assistance to the

Great and Good Spirit only."



"It may be so," said David; "but I have seen strange and

fantastic images drawn in their paint, of which their

admiration and care savored of spiritual pride; especially

one, and that, too, a foul and loathsome object."



"Was it a sarpent?" quickly demanded the scout.



"Much the same.  It was in the likeness of an abject and

creeping tortoise."



"Hugh!" exclaimed both the attentive Mohicans in a breath;

while the scout shook his head with the air of one who had

made an important but by no means a pleasing discovery.

Then the father spoke, in the language of the Delawares, and

with a calmness and dignity that instantly arrested the

attention even of those to whom his words were

unintelligible.  His gestures were impressive, and at times

energetic.  Once he lifted his arm on high; and, as it

descended, the action threw aside the folds of his light

mantle, a finger resting on his breast, as if he would

enforce his meaning by the attitude.  Duncan's eyes followed

the movement, and he perceived that the animal just

mentioned was beautifully, though faintly, worked in blue

tint, on the swarthy breast of the chief.  All that he had

ever heard of the violent separation of the vast tribes of

the Delawares rushed across his mind, and he awaited the

proper moment to speak, with a suspense that was rendered

nearly intolerable by his interest in the stake.  His wish,

however, was anticipated by the scout who turned from his

red friend, saying:



"We have found that which may be good or evil to us, as

heaven disposes.  The Sagamore is of the high blood of the

Delawares, and is the great chief of their Tortoises!  That

some of this stock are among the people of whom the singer

tells us, is plain by his words; and, had he but spent half

the breath in prudent questions that he has blown away in

making a trumpet of his throat, we might have known how many

warriors they numbered.  It is, altogether, a dangerous path

we move in; for a friend whose face is turned from you often

bears a bloodier mind than the enemy who seeks your scalp."



"Explain," said Duncan.



"'Tis a long and melancholy tradition, and one I little like

to think of; for it is not to be denied that the evil has

been mainly done by men with white skins.  But it has ended

in turning the tomahawk of brother against brother, and

brought the Mingo and the Delaware to travel in the same

path."



"You, then, suspect it is a portion of that people among

whom Cora resides?"



The scout nodded his head in assent, though he seemed

anxious to waive the further discussion of a subject that

appeared painful.  The impatient Duncan now made several

hasty and desperate propositions to attempt the release of

the sisters.  Munro seemed to shake off his apathy, and

listened to the wild schemes of the young man with a

deference that his gray hairs and reverend years should have

denied.  But the scout, after suffering the ardor of the

lover to expend itself a little, found means to convince him

of the folly of precipitation, in a manner that would

require their coolest judgment and utmost fortitude.



"It would be well," he added, "to let this man go in again,

as usual, and for him to tarry in the lodges, giving notice

to the gentle ones of our approach, until we call him out,

by signal, to consult.  You know the cry of a crow, friend,

from the whistle of the whip-poor-will?"



"'Tis a pleasing bird," returned David, "and has a soft and

melancholy note! though the time is rather quick and ill-

measured."



"He speaks of the wish-ton-wish," said the scout; "well,

since you like his whistle, it shall be your signal.

Remember, then, when you hear the whip-poor-will's call

three times repeated, you are to come into the bushes where

the bird might be supposed--"



"Stop," interrupted Heyward; "I will accompany him."



"You!" exclaimed the astonished Hawkeye; "are you tired of

seeing the sun rise and set?"



"David is a living proof that the Hurons can be merciful."



"Ay, but David can use his throat, as no man in his senses

would pervart the gift."



"I too can play the madman, the fool, the hero; in short,

any or everything to rescue her I love.  Name your

objections no longer: I am resolved."



Hawkeye regarded the young man a moment in speechless

amazement.  But Duncan, who, in deference to the other's

skill and services, had hitherto submitted somewhat

implicitly to his dictation, now assumed the superior, with

a manner that was not easily resisted.  He waved his hand,

in sign of his dislike to all remonstrance, and then, in

more tempered language, he continued:



"You have the means of disguise; change me; paint me, too,

if you will; in short, alter me to anything--a fool."



"It is not for one like me to say that he who is already

formed by so powerful a hand as Providence, stands in need

of a change," muttered the discontented scout.  "When you

send your parties abroad in war, you find it prudent, at

least, to arrange the marks and places of encampment, in

order that they who fight on your side may know when and

where to expect a friend."



"Listen," interrupted Duncan; "you have heard from this

faithful follower of the captives, that the Indians are of

two tribes, if not of different nations.  With one, whom you

think to be a branch of the Delawares, is she you call the

'dark-hair'; the other, and younger, of the ladies, is

undeniably with our declared enemies, the Hurons.  It

becomes my youth and rank to attempt the latter adventure.

While you, therefore, are negotiating with your friends for

the release of one of the sisters, I will effect that of the

other, or die."



The awakened spirit of the young soldier gleamed in his

eyes, and his form became imposing under its influence.

Hawkeye, though too much accustomed to Indian artifices not

to foresee the danger of the experiment, knew not well how

to combat this sudden resolution.



Perhaps there was something in the proposal that suited his

own hardy nature, and that secret love of desperate

adventure, which had increased with his experience, until

hazard and danger had become, in some measure, necessary to

the enjoyment of his existence.  Instead of continuing to

oppose the scheme of Duncan, his humor suddenly altered, and

he lent himself to its execution.



"Come," he said, with a good-humored smile; "the buck that

will take to the water must be headed, and not followed.

Chingachgook has as many different paints as the engineer

officer's wife, who takes down natur' on scraps of paper,

making the mountains look like cocks of rusty hay, and

placing the blue sky in reach of your hand.  The Sagamore

can use them, too.  Seat yourself on the log; and my life on

it, he can soon make a natural fool of you, and that well to

your liking."



Duncan complied; and the Mohican, who had been an attentive

listener to the discourse, readily undertook the office.

Long practised in all the subtle arts of his race, he drew,

with great dexterity and quickness, the fantastic shadow

that the natives were accustomed to consider as the evidence

of a friendly and jocular disposition.  Every line that

could possibly be interpreted into a secret inclination for

war, was carefully avoided; while, on the other hand, he

studied those conceits that might be construed into amity.



In short, he entirely sacrificed every appearance of the

warrior to the masquerade of a buffoon.  Such exhibitions

were not uncommon among the Indians, and as Duncan was

already sufficiently disguised in his dress, there certainly

did exist some reason for believing that, with his knowledge

of French, he might pass for a juggler from Ticonderoga,

straggling among the allied and friendly tribes.



When he was thought to be sufficiently painted, the scout

gave him much friendly advice; concerted signals, and

appointed the place where they should meet, in the event of

mutual success.  The parting between Munro and his young

friend was more melancholy; still, the former submitted to

the separation with an indifference that his warm and honest

nature would never have permitted in a more healthful state

of mind.  The scout led Heyward aside, and acquainted him

with his intention to leave the veteran in some safe

encampment, in charge of Chingachgook, while he and Uncas

pursued their inquires among the people they had reason to

believe were Delawares.  Then, renewing his cautions and

advice, he concluded by saying, with a solemnity and warmth

of feeling, with which Duncan was deeply touched:



"And, now, God bless you!  You have shown a spirit that I

like; for it is the gift of youth, more especially one of

warm blood and a stout heart.  But believe the warning of a

man who has reason to know all he says to be true.  You will

have occasion for your best manhood, and for a sharper wit

than what is to be gathered in books, afore you outdo the

cunning or get the better of the courage of a Mingo.  God

bless you! if the Hurons master your scalp, rely on the

promise of one who has two stout warriors to back him.  They

shall pay for their victory, with a life for every hair it

holds.  I say, young gentleman, may Providence bless your

undertaking, which is altogether for good; and, remember,

that to outwit the knaves it is lawful to practise things

that may not be naturally the gift of a white-skin."



Duncan shook his worthy and reluctant associate warmly by

the hand, once more recommended his aged friend to his care,

and returning his good wishes, he motioned to David to

proceed.  Hawkeye gazed after the high-spirited and

adventurous young man for several moments, in open

admiration; then, shaking his head doubtingly, he turned,

and led his own division of the party into the concealment

of the forest.



The route taken by Duncan and David lay directly across the

clearing of the beavers, and along the margin of their pond.



When the former found himself alone with one so simple, and

so little qualified to render any assistance in desperate

emergencies, he first began to be sensible of the

difficulties of the task he had undertaken.  The fading

light increased the gloominess of the bleak and savage

wilderness that stretched so far on every side of him, and

there was even a fearful character in the stillness of those

little huts, that he knew were so abundantly peopled.  It

struck him, as he gazed at the admirable structures and the

wonderful precautions of their sagacious inmates, that even

the brutes of these vast wilds were possessed of an instinct

nearly commensurate with his own reason; and he could not

reflect, without anxiety, on the unequal contest that he had

so rashly courted.  Then came the glowing image of Alice;

her distress; her actual danger; and all the peril of his

situation was forgotten.  Cheering David, he moved on with

the light and vigorous step of youth and enterprise.



After making nearly a semicircle around the pond, they

diverged from the water-course, and began to ascend to the

level of a slight elevation in that bottom land, over which

they journeyed.  Within half an hour they gained the margin

of another opening that bore all the signs of having been

also made by the beavers, and which those sagacious animals

had probably been induced, by some accident, to abandon, for

the more eligible position they now occupied.  A very

natural sensation caused Duncan to hesitate a moment,

unwilling to leave the cover of their bushy path, as a man

pauses to collect his energies before he essays any

hazardous experiment, in which he is secretly conscious they

will all be needed.  He profited by the halt, to gather such

information as might be obtained from his short and hasty

glances.



On the opposite side of the clearing, and near the point

where the brook tumbled over some rocks, from a still higher

level, some fifty or sixty lodges, rudely fabricated of logs

brush, and earth intermingled, were to be discovered.  They

were arranged without any order, and seemed to be

constructed with very little attention to neatness or

beauty.  Indeed, so very inferior were they in the two

latter particulars to the village Duncan had just seen, that

he began to expect a second surprise, no less astonishing

that the former.  This expectation was is no degree

diminished, when, by the doubtful twilight, he beheld twenty

or thirty forms rising alternately from the cover of the

tall, coarse grass, in front of the lodges, and then sinking

again from the sight, as it were to burrow in the earth.  By

the sudden and hasty glimpses that he caught of these

figures, they seemed more like dark, glancing specters, or

some other unearthly beings, than creatures fashioned with

the ordinary and vulgar materials of flesh and blood.  A

gaunt, naked form was seen, for a single instant, tossing

its arms wildly in the air, and then the spot it had filled

was vacant; the figure appearing suddenly in some other and

distant place, or being succeeded by another, possessing the

same mysterious character.  David, observing that his

companion lingered, pursued the direction of his gaze, and

in some measure recalled the recollection of Heyward, by

speaking.



"There is much fruitful soil uncultivated here," he said;

"and, I may add, without the sinful leaven of self-

commendation, that, since my short sojourn in these

heathenish abodes, much good seed has been scattered by the

wayside."



"The tribes are fonder of the chase than of the arts of men

of labor," returned the unconscious Duncan, still gazing at

the objects of his wonder.



"It is rather joy than labor to the spirit, to lift up the

voice in praise; but sadly do these boys abuse their gifts.

Rarely have I found any of their age, on whom nature has so

freely bestowed the elements of psalmody; and surely,

surely, there are none who neglect them more.  Three nights

have I now tarried here, and three several times have I

assembled the urchins to join in sacred song; and as often

have they responded to my efforts with whoopings and

howlings that have chilled my soul!"



"Of whom speak you?"



"Of those children of the devil, who waste the precious

moments in yonder idle antics.  Ah! the wholesome restraint

of discipline is but little known among this self-abandoned

people.  In a country of birches, a rod is never seen, and

it ought not to appear a marvel in my eyes, that the

choicest blessings of Providence are wasted in such cries as

these."



David closed his ears against the juvenile pack, whose yell

just then rang shrilly through the forest; and Duncan,

suffering his lip to curl, as in mockery of his own

superstition, said firmly:



"We will proceed."



Without removing the safeguards form his ears, the master of

song complied, and together they pursued their way toward

what David was sometimes wont to call the "tents of the

Philistines."







CHAPTER 23



"But though the beast of game The privilege of chase may

claim; Though space and law the stag we lend Ere hound we

slip, or bow we bend; Whoever recked, where, how, or when

The prowling fox was trapped or slain?"--Lady of the Lake



It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like

those of the more instructed whites, guarded by the presence

of armed men.  Well informed of the approach of every

danger, while it is yet at a distance, the Indian generally

rests secure under his knowledge of the signs of the forest,

and the long and difficult paths that separate him from

those he has most reason to dread.  But the enemy who, by

any lucky concurrence of accidents, has found means to elude

the vigilance of the scouts, will seldom meet with sentinels

nearer home to sound the alarm.  In addition to this general

usage, the tribes friendly to the French knew too well the

weight of the blow that had just been struck, to apprehend

any immediate danger from the hostile nations that were

tributary to the crown of Britain.



When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves in the

center of the children, who played the antics already

mentioned, it was without the least previous intimation of

their approach.  But so soon as they were observed the whole

of the juvenile pack raised, by common consent, a shrill and

warning whoop; and then sank, as it were, by magic, from

before the sight of their visitors.  The naked, tawny bodies

of the crouching urchins blended so nicely at that hour,

with the withered herbage, that at first it seemed as if the

earth had, in truth, swallowed up their forms; though when

surprise permitted Duncan to bend his look more curiously

about the spot, he found it everywhere met by dark, quick,

and rolling eyeballs.



Gathering no encouragement from this startling presage of

the nature of the scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the

more mature judgments of the men, there was an instant when

the young soldier would have retreated.  It was, however,

too late to appear to hesitate.  The cry of the children had

drawn a dozen warriors to the door of the nearest lodge,

where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group,

gravely awaiting the nearer approach of those who had

unexpectedly come among them.



David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the

way with a steadiness that no slight obstacle was likely to

disconcert, into this very building.  It was the principal

edifice of the village, though roughly constructed of the

bark and branches of trees; being the lodge in which the

tribe held its councils and public meetings during their

temporary residence on the borders of the English province.

Duncan found it difficult to assume the necessary appearance

of unconcern, as he brushed the dark and powerful frames of

the savages who thronged its threshold; but, conscious that

his existence depended on his presence of mind, he trusted

to the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps he

closely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally his

thoughts for the occasion.  His blood curdled when he found

himself in absolute contact with such fierce and implacable

enemies; but he so far mastered his feelings as to pursue

his way into the center of the lodge, with an exterior that

did not betray the weakness.  Imitating the example of the

deliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle of fragrant brush from

beneath a pile that filled the corner of the hut, and seated

himself in silence.



So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant warriors

fell back from the entrance, and arranging themselves about

him, they seemed patiently to await the moment when it might

comport with the dignity of the stranger to speak.  By far

the greater number stood leaning, in lazy, lounging

attitudes, against the upright posts that supported the

crazy building, while three or four of the oldest and most

distinguished of the chiefs placed themselves on the earth a

little more in advance.



A flaring torch was burning in the place, and set its red

glare from face to face and figure to figure, as it waved in

the currents of air.  Duncan profited by its light to read

the probable character of his reception, in the countenances

of his hosts.  But his ingenuity availed him little, against

the cold artifices of the people he had encountered.  The

chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping

their eyes on the ground, with an air that might have been

intended for respect, but which it was quite easy to

construe into distrust.  The men in the shadow were less

reserved.  Duncan soon detected their searching, but stolen,

looks which, in truth, scanned his person and attire inch by

inch; leaving no emotion of the countenance, no gesture, no

line of the paint, nor even the fashion of a garment,

unheeded, and without comment.



At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprinkled with

gray, but whose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced that

he was still equal to the duties of manhood, advanced out of

the gloom of a corner, whither he had probably posted

himself to make his observations unseen, and spoke.  He used

the language of the Wyandots, or Hurons; his words were,

consequently, unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed,

by the gestures that accompanied them, to be uttered more in

courtesy than anger.  The latter shook his head, and made a

gesture indicative of his inability to reply.



"Do none of my brothers speak the French or the English?" he

said, in the former language, looking about him from

countenance to countenance, in hopes of finding a nod of

assent.



Though more than one had turned, as if to catch the meaning

of his words, they remained unanswered.



"I should be grieved to think," continued Duncan, speaking

slowly, and using the simplest French of which he was the

master, "to believe that none of this wise and brave nation

understand the language that the'Grand Monarque' uses when

he talks to his children.  His heart would be heavy did he

believe his red warriors paid him so little respect!"



A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement

of a limb, nor any expression of an eye, betrayed the

expression produced by his remark.  Duncan, who knew that

silence was a virtue among his hosts, gladly had recourse to

the custom, in order to arrange his ideas.  At length the

same warrior who had before addressed him replied, by dryly

demanding, in the language of the Canadas:



"When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it with the

tongue of a Huron?"



"He knows no difference in his children, whether the color

of the skin be red, or black, or white," returned Duncan,

evasively; "though chiefly is he satisfied with the brave

Hurons."



"In what manner will he speak," demanded the wary chief,

"when the runners count to him the scalps which five nights

ago grew on the heads of the Yengeese?"



"They were his enemies," said Duncan, shuddering

involuntarily; "and doubtless, he will say, it is good; my

Hurons are very gallant."



"Our Canada father does not think it.  Instead of looking

forward to reward his Indians, his eyes are turned backward.

He sees the dead Yengeese, but no Huron.  What can this

mean?"



"A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than tongues.

He looks to see that no enemies are on his trail."



"The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the Horican,"

returned the savage, gloomily.  "His ears are open to the

Delawares, who are not our friends, and they fill them with

lies."



"It cannot be.  See; he has bid me, who am a man that knows

the art of healing, to go to his children, the red Hurons of

the great lakes, and ask if any are sick!"



Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character

Duncan had assumed.  Every eye was simultaneously bent on

his person, as if to inquire into the truth or falsehood of

the declaration, with an intelligence and keenness that

caused the subject of their scrutiny to tremble for the

result.  He was, however, relieved again by the former

speaker.



"Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their skins?" the

Huron coldly continued; "we have heard them boast that their

faces were pale."



"When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers,"

returned Duncan, with great steadiness, "he lays aside his

buffalo robe, to carry the shirt that is offered him.  My

brothers have given me paint and I wear it."



A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment of

the tribe was favorably received.  The elderly chief made a

gesture of commendation, which was answered by most of his

companions, who each threw forth a hand and uttered a brief

exclamation of pleasure.  Duncan began to breathe more

freely, believing that the weight of his examination was

past; and, as he had already prepared a simple and probable

tale to support his pretended occupation, his hopes of

ultimate success grew brighter.



After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his

thoughts, in order to make a suitable answer to the

declaration their guests had just given, another warrior

arose, and placed himself in an attitude to speak.  While

his lips were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful

sound arose from the forest, and was immediately succeeded

by a high, shrill yell, that was drawn out, until it equaled

the longest and most plaintive howl of the wolf.  The sudden

and terrible interruption caused Duncan to start from his

seat, unconscious of everything but the effect produced by

so frightful a cry.  At the same moment, the warriors glided

in a body from the lodge, and the outer air was filled with

loud shouts, that nearly drowned those awful sounds, which

were still ringing beneath the arches of the woods.  Unable

to command himself any longer, the youth broke from the

place, and presently stood in the center of a disorderly

throng, that included nearly everything having life, within

the limits of the encampment.  Men, women, and children; the

aged, the inform, the active, and the strong, were alike

abroad, some exclaiming aloud, others clapping their hands

with a joy that seemed frantic, and all expressing their

savage pleasure in some unexpected event.  Though astounded,

at first, by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to find

its solution by the scene that followed.



There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to

exhibit those bright openings among the tree-tops, where

different paths left the clearing to enter the depths of the

wilderness.  Beneath one of them, a line of warriors issued

from the woods, and advanced slowly toward the dwellings.

One in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwards

appeared, were suspended several human scalps.  The

startling sounds that Duncan had heard were what the whites

have not inappropriately called the "death-hallo"; and each

repetition of the cry was intended to announce to the tribe

the fate of an enemy.  Thus far the knowledge of Heyward

assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew that the

interruption was caused by the unlooked-for return of a

successful war-party, every disagreeable sensation was

quieted in inward congratulation, for the opportune relief

and insignificance it conferred on himself.



When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the lodges

the newly arrived warriors halted.  Their plaintive and

terrific cry, which was intended to represent equally the

wailings of the dead and the triumph to the victors, had

entirely ceased.  One of their number now called aloud, in

words that were far from appalling, though not more

intelligible to those for whose ears they were intended,

than their expressive yells.  It would be difficult to

convey a suitable idea of the savage ecstasy with which the

news thus imparted was received.  The whole encampment, in a

moment, became a scene of the most violent bustle and

commotion.  The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing

them, they arranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane

that extended from the war-party to the lodges.  The squaws

seized clubs, axes, or whatever weapon of offense first

offered itself to their hands, and rushed eagerly to act

their part in the cruel game that was at hand.  Even the

children would not be excluded; but boys, little able to

wield the instruments, tore the tomahawks from the belts of

their fathers, and stole into the ranks, apt imitators of

the savage traits exhibited by their parents.



Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, and a

wary and aged squaw was occupied in firing as many as might

serve to light the coming exhibition.  As the flame arose,

its power exceeded that of the parting day, and assisted to

render objects at the same time more distinct and more

hideous.  The whole scene formed a striking picture, whose

frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines.

The warriors just arrived were the most distant figures.  A

little in advance stood two men, who were apparently

selected from the rest, as the principal actors in what was

to follow.  The light was not strong enough to render their

features distinct, though it was quite evident that they

were governed by very different emotions.  While one stood

erect and firm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero, the

other bowed his head, as if palsied by terror or stricken

with shame.  The high-spirited Duncan felt a powerful

impulse of admiration and pity toward the former, though no

opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions.

He watched his slightest movement, however, with eager eyes;

and, as he traced the fine outline of his admirably

proportioned and active frame, he endeavored to persuade

himself, that, if the powers of man, seconded by such noble

resolution, could bear one harmless through so severe a

trial, the youthful captive before him might hope for

success in the hazardous race he was about to run.

Insensibly the young man drew nigher to the swarthy lines of

the Hurons, and scarcely breathed, so intense became his

interest in the spectacle.  Just then the signal yell was

given, and the momentary quiet which had preceded it was

broken by a burst of cries, that far exceeded any before

heard.  The more abject of the two victims continued

motionless; but the other bounded from the place at the cry,

with the activity and swiftness of a deer.  Instead of

rushing through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he

just entered the dangerous defile, and before time was given

for a single blow, turned short, and leaping the heads of a

row of children, he gained at once the exterior and safer

side of the formidable array.  The artifice was answered by

a hundred voices raised in imprecations; and the whole of

the excited multitude broke from their order, and spread

themselves about the place in wild confusion.



A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness on the

place, which resembled some unhallowed and supernatural

arena, in which malicious demons had assembled to act their

bloody and lawless rites.  The forms in the background

looked like unearthly beings, gliding before the eye, and

cleaving the air with frantic and unmeaning gestures; while

the savage passions of such as passed the flames were

rendered fearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart

their inflamed visages.



It will easily be understood that, amid such a concourse of

vindictive enemies, no breathing time was allowed the

fugitive.  There was a single moment when it seemed as if he

would have reached the forest, but the whole body of his

captors threw themselves before him, and drove him back into

the center of his relentless persecutors.  Turning like a

headed deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow,

through a pillar of forked flame, and passing the whole

multitude harmless, he appeared on the opposite side of the

clearing.  Here, too, he was met and turned by a few of the

older and more subtle of the Hurons.  Once more he tried the

throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then

several moments succeeded, during which Duncan believed the

active and courageous young stranger was lost.



Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human

forms tossed and involved in inexplicable confusion.  Arms,

gleaming knives, and formidable clubs, appeared above them,

but the blows were evidently given at random.  The awful

effect was heightened by the piercing shrieks of the women

and the fierce yells of the warriors.  Now and then Duncan

caught a glimpse of a light form cleaving the air in some

desperate bound, and he rather hoped than believed that the

captive yet retained the command of his astonishing powers

of activity.  Suddenly the multitude rolled backward, and

approached the spot where he himself stood.  The heavy body

in the rear pressed upon the women and children in front,

and bore them to the earth.  The stranger reappeared in the

confusion.  Human power could not, however, much longer

endure so severe a trial.  Of this the captive seemed

conscious.  Profiting by the momentary opening, he darted

from among the warriors, and made a desperate, and what

seemed to Duncan a final effort to gain the wood.  As if

aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young

soldier, the fugitive nearly brushed his person in his

flight.  A tall and powerful Huron, who had husbanded his

forces, pressed close upon his heels, and with an uplifted

arm menaced a fatal blow.  Duncan thrust forth a foot, and

the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, many feet

in advance of his intended victim.  Thought itself is not

quicker than was the motion with which the latter profited

by the advantage; he turned, gleamed like a meteor again

before the eyes of Duncan, and, at the next moment, when the

latter recovered his recollection, and gazed around in quest

of the captive, he saw him quietly leaning against a small

painted post, which stood before the door of the principal

lodge.



Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might

prove fatal to himself, Duncan left the place without delay.

He followed the crowd, which drew nigh the lodges, gloomy

and sullen, like any other multitude that had been

disappointed in an execution.  Curiosity, or perhaps a

better feeling, induced him to approach the stranger.  He

found him, standing with one arm cast about the protecting

post, and breathing thick and hard, after his exertions, but

disdaining to permit a single sign of suffering to escape.

His person was now protected by immemorial and sacred usage,

until the tribe in council had deliberated and determined on

his fate.  It was not difficult, however, to foretell the

result, if any presage could be drawn from the feelings of

those who crowded the place.



There was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary

that the disappointed women did not lavishly expend on the

successful stranger.  They flouted at his efforts, and told

him, with bitter scoffs, that his feet were better than his

hands; and that he merited wings, while he knew not the use

of an arrow or a knife.  To all this the captive made no

reply; but was content to preserve an attitude in which

dignity was singularly blended with disdain.  Exasperated as

much by his composure as by his good-fortune, their words

became unintelligible, and were succeeded by shrill,

piercing yells.  Just then the crafty squaw, who had taken

the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way

through the throng, and cleared a place for herself in front

of the captive.  The squalid and withered person of this hag

might well have obtained for her the character of possessing

more than human cunning.  Throwing back her light vestment,

she stretched forth her long, skinny arm, in derision, and

using the language of the Lenape, as more intelligible to

the subject of her gibes, she commenced aloud:



"Look you, Delaware," she said, snapping her fingers in his

face; "your nation is a race of women, and the hoe is better

fitted to your hands than the gun.  Your squaws are the

mothers of deer; but if a bear, or a wildcat, or a serpent

were born among you, ye would flee.  The Huron girls shall

make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband."



A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during

which the soft and musical merriment of the younger females

strangely chimed with the cracked voice of their older and

more malignant companion.  But the stranger was superior to

all their efforts.  His head was immovable; nor did he

betray the slightest consciousness that any were present,

except when his haughty eye rolled toward the dusky forms of

the warriors, who stalked in the background silent and

sullen observers of the scene.



Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the woman

placed her arms akimbo; and, throwing herself into a posture

of defiance, she broke out anew, in a torrent of words that

no art of ours could commit successfully to paper.  Her

breath was, however, expended in vain; for, although

distinguished in her nation as a proficient in the art of

abuse, she was permitted to work herself into such a fury as

actually to foam at the mouth, without causing a muscle to

vibrate in the motionless figure of the stranger.  The

effect of his indifference began to extend itself to the

other spectators; and a youngster, who was just quitting the

condition of a boy to enter the state of manhood, attempted

to assist the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before

their victim, and adding his empty boasts to the taunts of

the women.  Then, indeed, the captive turned his face toward

the light, and looked down on the stripling with an

expression that was superior to contempt.  At the next

moment he resumed his quiet and reclining attitude against

the post.  But the change of posture had permitted Duncan to

exchange glances with the firm and piercing eyes of Uncas.



Breathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed with the

critical situation of his friend, Heyward recoiled before

the look, trembling lest its meaning might, in some unknown

manner, hasten the prisoner's fate.  There was not, however,

any instant cause for such an apprehension.  Just then a

warrior forced his way into the exasperated crowd.

Motioning the women and children aside with a stern gesture,

he took Uncas by the arm, and led him toward the door of the

council-lodge.  Thither all the chiefs, and most of the

distinguished warriors, followed; among whom the anxious

Heyward found means to enter without attracting any

dangerous attention to himself.



A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those present in

a manner suitable to their rank and influence in the tribe.

An order very similar to that adopted in the preceding

interview was observed; the aged and superior chiefs

occupying the area of the spacious apartment, within the

powerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and

inferiors were arranged in the background, presenting a dark

outline of swarthy and marked visages.  In the very center

of the lodge, immediately under an opening that admitted the

twinkling light of one or two stars, stood Uncas, calm,

elevated, and collected.  His high and haughty carriage was

not lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his

person, with eyes which, while they lost none of their

inflexibility of purpose, plainly betrayed their admiration

of the stranger's daring.



The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had

observed to stand forth with his friend, previously to the

desperate trial of speed; and who, instead of joining in the

chase, had remained, throughout its turbulent uproar, like a

cringing statue, expressive of shame and disgrace.  Though

not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet an eye

had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered

the lodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he

submitted, seemingly, without a struggle.  Heyward profited

by the first opportunity to gaze in his face, secretly

apprehensive he might find the features of another

acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger,

and, what was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all

the distinctive marks of a Huron warrior.  Instead of

mingling with his tribe, however, he sat apart, a solitary

being in a multitude, his form shrinking into a crouching

and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space

as possible.  When each individual had taken his proper

station, and silence reigned in the place, the gray-haired

chief already introduced to the reader, spoke aloud, in the

language of the Lenni Lenape.



"Delaware," he said, "though one of a nation of women, you

have proved yourself a man.  I would give you food; but he

who eats with a Huron should become his friend.  Rest in

peace till the morning sun, when our last words shall be

spoken."



"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the

trail of the Hurons," Uncas coldly replied; "the children of

the Lenape know how to travel the path of the just without

lingering to eat."



"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion,"

resumed the other, without appearing to regard the boast of

his captive; "when they get back, then will our wise man say

to you 'live' or 'die'."



"Has a Huron no ears?" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; "twice,

since he has been your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a

gun that he knows.  Your young men will never come back!"



A short and sullen pause succeeded this bold assertion.

Duncan, who understood the Mohican to allude to the fatal

rifle of the scout, bent forward in earnest observation of

the effect it might produce on the conquerors; but the chief

was content with simply retorting:



"If the Lenape are so skillful, why is one of their bravest

warriors here?"



"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into

a snare.  The cunning beaver may be caught."



As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger toward the

solitary Huron, but without deigning to bestow any other

notice on so unworthy an object.  The words of the answer

and the air of the speaker produced a strong sensation among

his auditors.  Every eye rolled sullenly toward the

individual indicated by the simple gesture, and a low,

threatening murmur passed through the crowd.  The ominous

sounds reached the outer door, and the women and children

pressing into the throng, no gap had been left, between

shoulder and shoulder, that was not now filled with the dark

lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance.



In the meantime, the more aged chiefs, in the center,

communed with each other in short and broken sentences.  Not

a word was uttered that did not convey the meaning of the

speaker, in the simplest and most energetic form.  Again, a

long and deeply solemn pause took place.  It was known, by

all present, to be the brave precursor of a weighty and

important judgment.  They who composed the outer circle of

faces were on tiptoe to gaze; and even the culprit for an

instant forgot his shame in a deeper emotion, and exposed

his abject features, in order to cast an anxious and

troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs.  The

silence was finally broken by the aged warrior so often

named.  He arose from the earth, and moving past the

immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in a dignified

attitude before the offender.  At that moment, the withered

squaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow,

sidling sort of a dance, holding the torch, and muttering

the indistinct words of what might have been a species of

incantation.  Though her presence was altogether an

intrusion, it was unheeded.



Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a

manner as to cast its red glare on his person, and to expose

the slightest emotion of his countenance.  The Mohican

maintained his firm and haughty attitude; and his eyes, so

far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt

steadily on the distance, as though it penetrated the

obstacles which impeded the view and looked into futurity.

Satisfied with her examination, she left him, with a slight

expression of pleasure, and proceeded to practise the same

trying experiment on her delinquent countryman.



The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a

finely molded form was concealed by his attire.  The light

rendered every limb and joint discernible, and Duncan turned

away in horror when he saw they were writhing in

irrepressible agony.  The woman was commencing a low and

plaintive howl at the sad and shameful spectacle, when the

chief put forth his hand and gently pushed her aside.



"Reed-that-bends," he said, addressing the young culprit by

name, and in his proper language, "though the Great Spirit

has made you pleasant to the eyes, it would have been better

that you had not been born.  Your tongue is loud in the

village, but in battle it is still.  None of my young men

strike the tomahawk deeper into the war- post--none of

them so lightly on the Yengeese.  The enemy know the shape

of your back, but they have never seen the color of your

eyes.  Three times have they called on you to come, and as

often did you forget to answer.  Your name will never be

mentioned again in your tribe--it is already forgotten."



As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing

impressively between each sentence, the culprit raised his

face, in deference to the other's rank and years.  Shame,

horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments.  His eye,

which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on the

persons of those whose breath was his fame; and the latter

emotion for an instant predominated.  He arose to his feet,

and baring his bosom, looked steadily on the keen,

glittering knife, that was already upheld by his inexorable

judge.  As the weapon passed slowly into his heart he even

smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful

than he had anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at

the feet of the rigid and unyielding form of Uncas.



The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch

to the earth, and buried everything in darkness.  The whole

shuddering group of spectators glided from the lodge like

troubled sprites; and Duncan thought that he and the yet

throbbing body of the victim of an Indian judgment had now

become its only tenants.







CHAPTER 24



"Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay Dissolve the

council, and their chief obey."--Pope's Iliad



A single moment served to convince the youth that he was

mistaken.  A hand was laid, with a powerful pressure, on his

arm, and the low voice of Uncas muttered in his ear:



"The Hurons are dogs.  The sight of a coward's blood can

never make a warrior tremble.  The 'Gray Head' and the

Sagamore are safe, and the rifle of Hawkeye is not asleep.

Go--Uncas and the 'Open Hand' are now strangers.  It is

enough."



Heyward would gladly have heard more, but a gentle push from

his friend urged him toward the door, and admonished him of

the danger that might attend the discovery of their

intercourse.  Slowly and reluctantly yielding to the

necessity, he quitted the place, and mingled with the throng

that hovered nigh.  The dying fires in the clearing cast a

dim and uncertain light on the dusky figures that were

silently stalking to and fro; and occasionally a brighter

gleam than common glanced into the lodge, and exhibited the

figure of Uncas still maintaining its upright attitude near

the dead body of the Huron.



A knot of warriors soon entered the place again, and

reissuing, they bore the senseless remains into the adjacent

woods.  After this termination of the scene, Duncan wandered

among the lodges, unquestioned and unnoticed, endeavoring to

find some trace of her in whose behalf he incurred the risk

he ran.  In the present temper of the tribe it would have

been easy to have fled and rejoined his companions, had such

a wish crossed his mind.  But, in addition to the never-

ceasing anxiety on account of Alice, a fresher though

feebler interest in the fate of Uncas assisted to chain him

to the spot.  He continued, therefore, to stray from hut to

hut, looking into each only to encounter additional

disappointment, until he had made the entire circuit of the

village.  Abandoning a species of inquiry that proved so

fruitless, he retraced his steps to the council-lodge,

resolved to seek and question David, in order to put an end

to his doubts.



On reaching the building, which had proved alike the seat of

judgment and the place of execution, the young man found

that the excitement had already subsided.  The warriors had

reassembled, and were now calmly smoking, while they

conversed gravely on the chief incidents of their recent

expedition to the head of the Horican.  Though the return of

Duncan was likely to remind them of his character, and the

suspicious circumstances of his visit, it produced no

visible sensation.  So far, the terrible scene that had just

occurred proved favorable to his views, and he required no

other prompter than his own feelings to convince him of the

expediency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage.



Without seeming to hesitate, he walked into the lodge, and

took his seat with a gravity that accorded admirably with

the deportment of his hosts.  A hasty but searching glance

sufficed to tell him that, though Uncas still remained where

he had left him, David had not reappeared.  No other

restraint was imposed on the former than the watchful looks

of a young Huron, who had placed himself at hand; though an

armed warrior leaned against the post that formed one side

of the narrow doorway.  In every other respect, the captive

seemed at liberty; still he was excluded from all

participation in the discourse, and possessed much more of

the air of some finely molded statue than a man having life

and volition.



Heyward had too recently witnessed a frightful instance of

the prompt punishments of the people into whose hands he had

fallen to hazard an exposure by any officious boldness.  He

would greatly have preferred silence and meditation to

speech, when a discovery of his real condition might prove

so instantly fatal.  Unfortunately for this prudent

resolution, his entertainers appeared otherwise disposed.

He had not long occupied the seat wisely taken a little in

the shade, when another of the elder warriors, who spoke the

French language, addressed him:



"My Canada father does not forget his children," said the

chief; "I thank him.  An evil spirit lives in the wife of

one of my young men.  Can the cunning stranger frighten him

away?"



Heyward possessed some knowledge of the mummery practised

among the Indians, in the cases of such supposed

visitations.  He saw, at a glance, that the circumstance

might possibly be improved to further his own ends.  It

would, therefore, have been difficult, just then to have

uttered a proposal that would have given him more

satisfaction.  Aware of the necessity of preserving the

dignity of his imaginary character, however, he repressed

his feelings, and answered with suitable mystery:



"Spirits differ; some yield to the power of wisdom, while

others are too strong."



"My brother is a great medicine," said the cunning savage;

"he will try?"



A gesture of assent was the answer.  The Huron was content

with the assurance, and, resuming his pipe, he awaited the

proper moment to move.  The impatient Heyward, inwardly

execrating the cold customs of the savages, which required

such sacrifices to appearance, was fain to assume an air of

indifference, equal to that maintained by the chief, who

was, in truth, a near relative of the afflicted woman.  The

minutes lingered, and the delay had seemed an hour to the

adventurer in empiricism, when the Huron laid aside his pipe

and drew his robe across his breast, as if about to lead the

way to the lodge of the invalid.  Just then, a warrior of

powerful frame, darkened the door, and stalking silently

among the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of

the low pile of brush which sustained Duncan.  The latter

cast an impatient look at his neighbor, and felt his flesh

creep with uncontrollable horror when he found himself in

actual contact with Magua.



The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief caused a

delay in the departure of the Huron.  Several pipes, that

had been extinguished, were lighted again; while the

newcomer, without speaking a word, drew his tomahawk from

his girdle, and filling the bowl on its head began to inhale

the vapors of the weed through the hollow handle, with as

much indifference as if he had not been absent two weary

days on a long and toilsome hunt.  Ten minutes, which

appeared so many ages to Duncan, might have passed in this

manner; and the warriors were fairly enveloped in a cloud of

white smoke before any of them spoke.



"Welcome!" one at length uttered; "has my friend found the

moose?"



"The young men stagger under their burdens," returned Magua.

"Let 'Reed-that-bends' go on the hunting path; he will meet

them."



A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of the

forbidden name.  Each pipe dropped from the lips of its

owner as though all had inhaled an impurity at the same

instant.  The smoke wreathed above their heads in little

eddies, and curling in a spiral form it ascended swiftly

through the opening in the roof of the lodge, leaving the

place beneath clear of its fumes, and each dark visage

distinctly visible.  The looks of most of the warriors were

riveted on the earth; though a few of the younger and less

gifted of the party suffered their wild and glaring eyeballs

to roll in the direction of a white-headed savage, who sat

between two of the most venerated chiefs of the tribe.

There was nothing in the air or attire of this Indian that

would seem to entitle him to such a distinction.  The former

was rather depressed, than remarkable for the bearing of the

natives; and the latter was such as was commonly worn by the

ordinary men of the nation.  Like most around him for more

than a minute his look, too, was on the ground; but,

trusting his eyes at length to steal a glance aside, he

perceived that he was becoming an object of general

attention.  Then he arose and lifted his voice in the

general silence.



"It was a lie," he said; "I had no son.  He who was called

by that name is forgotten; his blood was pale, and it came

not from the veins of a Huron; the wicked Chippewas cheated

my squaw.  The Great Spirit has said, that the family of

Wiss-entush should end; he is happy who knows that the evil

of his race dies with himself.  I have done."



The speaker, who was the father of the recreant young

Indian, looked round and about him, as if seeking

commendation of his stoicism in the eyes of the auditors.

But the stern customs of his people had made too severe an

exaction of the feeble old man.  The expression of his eye

contradicted his figurative and boastful language, while

every muscle in his wrinkled visage was working with

anguish.  Standing a single minute to enjoy his bitter

triumph, he turned away, as if sickening at the gaze of men,

and, veiling his face in his blanket, he walked from the

lodge with the noiseless step of an Indian seeking, in the

privacy of his own abode, the sympathy of one like himself,

aged, forlorn and childless.



The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of

virtues and defects in character, suffered him to depart in

silence.  Then, with an elevation of breeding that many in a

more cultivated state of society might profitably emulate,

one of the chiefs drew the attention of the young men from

the weakness they had just witnessed, by saying, in a

cheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as

the newest comer:



"The Delawares have been like bears after the honey pots,

prowling around my village.  But who has ever found a Huron

asleep?"



The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes a burst

of thunder was not blacker than the brow of Magua as he

exclaimed:



"The Delawares of the Lakes!"



"Not so.  They who wear the petticoats of squaws, on their

own river.  One of them has been passing the tribe."



"Did my young men take his scalp?"



"His legs were good, though his arm is better for the hoe

than the tomahawk," returned the other, pointing to the

immovable form of Uncas.



Instead of manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast his

eyes with the sight of a captive from a people he was known

to have so much reason to hate, Magua continued to smoke,

with the meditative air that he usually maintained, when

there was no immediate call on his cunning or his eloquence.

Although secretly amazed at the facts communicated by the

speech of the aged father, he permitted himself to ask no

questions, reserving his inquiries for a more suitable

moment.  It was only after a sufficient interval that he

shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced the tomahawk,

tightened his girdle, and arose, casting for the first time

a glance in the direction of the prisoner, who stood a

little behind him.  The wary, though seemingly abstracted

Uncas, caught a glimpse of the movement, and turning

suddenly to the light, their looks met.  Near a minute these

two bold and untamed spirits stood regarding one another

steadily in the eye, neither quailing in the least before

the fierce gaze he encountered.  The form of Uncas dilated,

and his nostrils opened like those of a tiger at bay; but so

rigid and unyielding was his posture, that he might easily

have been converted by the imagination into an exquisite and

faultless representation of the warlike deity of his tribe.

The lineaments of the quivering features of Magua proved

more ductile; his countenance gradually lost its character

of defiance in an expression of ferocious joy, and heaving a

breath from the very bottom of his chest, he pronounced

aloud the formidable name of:



"Le Cerf Agile!"



Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of the

well-known appellation, and there was a short period during

which the stoical constancy of the natives was completely

conquered by surprise.  The hated and yet respected name was

repeated as by one voice, carrying the sound even beyond the

limits of the lodge.  The women and children, who lingered

around the entrance, took up the words in an echo, which was

succeeded by another shrill and plaintive howl.  The latter

was not yet ended, when the sensation among the men had

entirely abated.  Each one in presence seated himself, as

though ashamed of his precipitation; but it was many minutes

before their meaning eyes ceased to roll toward their

captive, in curious examination of a warrior who had so

often proved his prowess on the best and proudest of their

nation.  Uncas enjoyed his victory, but was content with

merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet smile--an emblem

of scorn which belongs to all time and every nation.



Magua caught the expression, and raising his arm, he shook

it at the captive, the light silver ornaments attached to

his bracelet rattling with the trembling agitation of the

limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he exclaimed, in English:



"Mohican, you die!"



"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to

life," returned Uncas, in the music of the Delawares; "the

tumbling river washes their bones; their men are squaws:

their women owls.  Go! call together the Huron dogs, that

they may look upon a warrior, My nostrils are offended; they

scent the blood of a coward."



The latter allusion struck deep, and the injury rankled.

Many of the Hurons understood the strange tongue in which

the captive spoke, among which number was Magua.  This

cunning savage beheld, and instantly profited by his

advantage.  Dropping the light robe of skin from his

shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced a burst

of his dangerous and artful eloquence.  However much his

influence among his people had been impaired by his

occasional and besetting weakness, as well as by his

desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an

orator were undeniable.  He never spoke without auditors,

and rarely without making converts to his opinions.  On the

present occasion, his native powers were stimulated by the

thirst of revenge.



He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at

Glenn's, the death of his associates and the escape of their

most formidable enemies.  Then he described the nature and

position of the mount whither he had led such captives as

had fallen into their hands.  Of his own bloody intentions

toward the maidens, and of his baffled malice he made no

mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party

by "La Longue Carabine," and its fatal termination.  Here he

paused, and looked about him, in affected veneration for the

departed, but, in truth, to note the effect of his opening

narrative.  As usual, every eye was riveted on his face.

Each dusky figure seemed a breathing statue, so motionless

was the posture, so intense the attention of the individual.



Then Magua dropped his voice which had hitherto been clear,

strong and elevated, and touched upon the merits of the

dead.  No quality that was likely to command the sympathy of

an Indian escaped his notice.  One had never been known to

follow the chase in vain; another had been indefatigable on

the trail of their enemies.  This was brave, that generous.

In short, he so managed his allusions, that in a nation

which was composed of so few families, he contrived to

strike every chord that might find, in its turn, some breast

in which to vibrate.



"Are the bones of my young men," he concluded, "in the

burial-place of the Hurons?  You know they are not.  Their

spirits are gone toward the setting sun, and are already

crossing the great waters, to the happy hunting-grounds.

But they departed without food, without guns or knives,

without moccasins, naked and poor as they were born.  Shall

this be?  Are their souls to enter the land of the just like

hungry Iroquois or unmanly Delawares, or shall they meet

their friends with arms in their hands and robes on their

backs?  What will our fathers think the tribes of the

Wyandots have become?  They will look on their children with

a dark eye, and say, 'Go! a Chippewa has come hither with

the name of a Huron' Brothers, we must not forget the dead;

a red-skin never ceases to remember.  We will load the back

of this Mohican until he staggers under our bounty, and

dispatch him after my young men.  They call to us for aid,

though our ears are not open; they say, 'Forget us not' When

they see the spirit of this Mohican toiling after them with

his burden, they will know we are of that mind.  Then will

they go on happy; and our children will say, 'So did our

fathers to their friends, so must we do to them' What is a

Yengee?  we have slain many, but the earth is still pale.  A

stain on the name of Huron can only be hid by blood that

comes from the veins of an Indian.  Let this Delaware die."



The effect of such an harangue, delivered in the nervous

language and with the emphatic manner of a Huron orator,

could scarcely be mistaken.  Magua had so artfully blended

the natural sympathies with the religious superstition of

his auditors, that their minds, already prepared by custom

to sacrifice a victim to the manes of their countrymen, lost

every vestige of humanity in a wish for revenge.  One

warrior in particular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had

been conspicuous for the attention he had given to the words

of the speaker.  His countenance had changed with each

passing emotion, until it settled into a look of deadly

malice.  As Magua ended he arose and, uttering the yell of a

demon, his polished little axe was seen glancing in the

torchlight as he whirled it above his head.  The motion and

the cry were too sudden for words to interrupt his bloody

intention.  It appeared as if a bright gleam shot from his

hand, which was crossed at the same moment by a dark and

powerful line.  The former was the tomahawk in its passage;

the latter the arm that Magua darted forward to divert its

aim.  The quick and ready motion of the chief was not

entirely too late.  The keen weapon cut the war plume from

the scalping tuft of Uncas, and passed through the frail

wall of the lodge as though it were hurled from some

formidable engine.



Duncan had seen the threatening action, and sprang upon his

feet, with a heart which, while it leaped into his throat,

swelled with the most generous resolution in behalf of his

friend.  A glance told him that the blow had failed, and

terror changed to admiration.  Uncas stood still, looking

his enemy in the eye with features that seemed superior to

emotion.  Marble could not be colder, calmer, or steadier

than the countenance he put upon this sudden and vindictive

attack.  Then, as if pitying a want of skill which had

proved so fortunate to himself, he smiled, and muttered a

few words of contempt in his own tongue.



"No!" said Magua, after satisfying himself of the safety of

the captive; "the sun must shine on his shame; the squaws

must see his flesh tremble, or our revenge will be like the

play of boys.  Go! take him where there is silence; let us

see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the morning

die."



The young men whose duty it was to guard the prisoner

instantly passed their ligaments of bark across his arms,

and led him from the lodge, amid a profound and ominous

silence.  It was only as the figure of Uncas stood in the

opening of the door that his firm step hesitated.  There he

turned, and, in the sweeping and haughty glance that he

threw around the circle of his enemies, Duncan caught a look

which he was glad to construe into an expression that he was

not entirely deserted by hope.



Magua was content with his success, or too much occupied

with his secret purposes to push his inquiries any further.

Shaking his mantle, and folding it on his bosom, he also

quitted the place, without pursuing a subject which might

have proved so fatal to the individual at his elbow.

Notwithstanding his rising resentment, his natural firmness,

and his anxiety on behalf of Uncas, Heyward felt sensibly

relieved by the absence of so dangerous and so subtle a foe.

The excitement produced by the speech gradually subsided.

The warriors resumed their seats and clouds of smoke once

more filled the lodge.  For near half an hour, not a

syllable was uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside; a grave

and meditative silence being the ordinary succession to

every scene of violence and commotion among these beings,

who were alike so impetuous and yet so self-restrained.



When the chief, who had solicited the aid of Duncan,

finished his pipe, he made a final and successful movement

toward departing.  A motion of a finger was the intimation

he gave the supposed physician to follow; and passing

through the clouds of smoke, Duncad was glad, on more

accounts than one, to be able at last to breathe the pure

air of a cool and refreshing summer evening.



Instead of pursuing his way among those lodges where Heyward

had already made his unsuccessful search, his companion

turned aside, and proceeded directly toward the base of an

adjacent mountain, which overhung the temporary village.  A

thicket of brush skirted its foot, and it became necessary

to proceed through a crooked and narrow path.  The boys had

resumed their sports in the clearing, and were enacting a

mimic chase to the post among themselves.  In order to

render their games as like the reality as possible, one of

the boldest of their number had conveyed a few brands into

some piles of tree-tops that had hitherto escaped the

burning.  The blaze of one of these fires lighted the way of

the chief and Duncan, and gave a character of additional

wildness to the rude scenery.  At a little distance from a

bald rock, and directly in its front, they entered a grassy

opening, which they prepared to cross.  Just then fresh fuel

was added to the fire, and a powerful light penetrated even

to that distant spot.  It fell upon the white surface of the

mountain, and was reflected downward upon a dark and

mysterious-looking being that arose, unexpectedly, in their

path.  The Indian paused, as if doubtful whether to proceed,

and permitted his companion to approach his side.  A large

black ball, which at first seemed stationary, now began to

move in a manner that to the latter was inexplicable.  Again

the fire brightened and its glare fell more distinctly on

the object.  Then even Duncan knew it, by its restless and

sidling attitudes, which kept the upper part of its form in

constant motion, while the animal itself appeared seated, to

be a bear.  Though it growled loudly and fiercely, and there

were instants when its glistening eyeballs might be seen, it

gave no other indications of hostility.  The Huron, at

least, seemed assured that the intentions of this singular

intruder were peaceable, for after giving it an attentive

examination, he quietly pursued his course.



Duncan, who knew that the animal was often domesticated

among the Indians, followed the example of his companion,

believing that some favorite of the tribe had found its way

into the thicket, in search of food.  They passed it

unmolested.  Though obliged to come nearly in contact with

the monster, the Huron, who had at first so warily

determined the character of his strange visitor, was now

content with proceeding without wasting a moment in further

examination; but Heyward was unable to prevent his eyes from

looking backward, in salutary watchfulness against attacks

in the rear.  His uneasiness was in no degree diminished

when he perceived the beast rolling along their path, and

following their footsteps.  He would have spoken, but the

Indian at that moment shoved aside a door of bark, and

entered a cavern in the bosom of the mountain.



Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan stepped

after him, and was gladly closing the slight cover to the

opening, when he felt it drawn from his hand by the beast,

whose shaggy form immediately darkened the passage.  They

were now in a straight and long gallery, in a chasm of the

rocks, where retreat without encountering the animal was

impossible.  Making the best of the circumstances, the young

man pressed forward, keeping as close as possible to his

conductor.  The bear growled frequently at his heels, and

once or twice its enormous paws were laid on his person, as

if disposed to prevent his further passage into the den.



How long the nerves of Heyward would have sustained him in

this extraordinary situation, it might be difficult to

decide, for, happily, he soon found relief.  A glimmer of

light had constantly been in their front, and they now

arrived at the place whence it proceeded.



A large cavity in the rock had been rudely fitted to answer

the purposes of many apartments.  The subdivisions were

simple but ingenious, being composed of stone, sticks, and

bark, intermingled.  Openings above admitted the light by

day, and at night fires and torches supplied the place of

the sun.  Hither the Hurons had brought most of their

valuables, especially those which more particularly

pertained to the nation; and hither, as it now appeared, the

sick woman, who was believed to be the victim of

supernatural power, had been transported also, under an

impression that her tormentor would find more difficulty in

making his assaults through walls of stone than through the

leafy coverings of the lodges.  The apartment into which

Duncan and his guide first entered, had been exclusively

devoted to her accommodation.  The latter approached her

bedside, which was surrounded by females, in the center of

whom Heyward was surprised to find his missing friend David.



A single look was sufficient to apprise the pretended leech

that the invalid was far beyond his powers of healing.  She

lay in a sort of paralysis, indifferent to the objects which

crowded before her sight, and happily unconscious of

suffering.  Heyward was far from regretting that his

mummeries were to be performed on one who was much too ill

to take an interest in their failure or success.  The slight

qualm of conscience which had been excited by the intended

deception was instantly appeased, and he began to collect

his thoughts, in order to enact his part with suitable

spirit, when he found he was about to be anticipated in his

skill by an attempt to prove the power of music.



Gamut, who had stood prepared to pour forth his spirit in

song when the visitors entered, after delaying a moment,

drew a strain from his pipe, and commenced a hymn that might

have worked a miracle, had faith in is efficacy been of much

avail.  He was allowed to proceed to the close, the Indians

respecting his imaginary infirmity, and Duncan too glad of

the delay to hazard the slightest interruption.  As the

dying cadence of his strains was falling on the ears of the

latter, he started aside at hearing them repeated behind

him, in a voice half human and half sepulchral.  Looking

around, he beheld the shaggy monster seated on end in a

shadow of the cavern, where, while his restless body swung

in the uneasy manner of the animal, it repeated, in a sort

of low growl, sounds, if not words, which bore some slight

resemblance to the melody of the singer.



The effect of so strange an echo on David may better be

imagined than described.  His eyes opened as if he doubted

their truth; and his voice became instantly mute in excess

of wonder.  A deep-laid scheme, of communicating some

important intelligence to Heyward, was driven from his

recollection by an emotion which very nearly resembled fear,

but which he was fain to believe was admiration.  Under its

influence, he exclaimed aloud: "She expects you, and is at

hand"; and precipitately left the cavern.







CHAPTER 25



"Snug.--Have you the lion's part written?  Pray you, if

it be, give it to me, for I am slow of study.

Quince.--You may do it extempore, for it is nothing

but roaring."--Midsummer Night's Dream



There was a strange blending of the ridiculous with that

which was solemn in this scene.  The beast sill continued

its rolling, and apparently untiring movements, though its

ludicrous attempt to imitate the melody of David ceased the

instant the latter abandoned the field.  The words of Gamut

were, as has been seen, in his native tongue; and to Duncan

they seem pregnant with some hidden meaning, though nothing

present assisted him in discovering the object of their

allusion.  A speedy end was, however, put to every

conjecture on the subject, by the manner of the chief, who

advanced to the bedside of the invalid, and beckoned away

the whole group of female attendants that had clustered

there to witness the skill of the stranger.  He was

implicitly, though reluctantly, obeyed; and when the low

echo which rang along the hollow, natural gallery, from the

distant closing door, had ceased, pointing toward his

insensible daughter, he said:



"Now let my brother show his power."



Thus unequivocally called on to exercise the functions of

his assumed character, Heyward was apprehensive that the

smallest delay might prove dangerous.  Endeavoring, then, to

collect his ideas, he prepared to perform that species of

incantation, and those uncouth rites, under which the Indian

conjurers are accustomed to conceal their ignorance and

impotency.  It is more than probable that, in the disordered

state of his thoughts, he would soon have fallen into some

suspicious, if not fatal, error had not his incipient

attempts been interrupted by a fierce growl from the

quadruped.  Three several times did he renew his efforts to

proceed, and as often was he met by the same unaccountable

opposition, each interruption seeming more savage and

threatening than the preceding.



"The cunning ones are jealous," said the Huron; "I go

Brother, the woman is the wife of one of my bravest young

men; deal justly by her.  Peace!" he added, beckoning to the

discontented beast to be quiet; "I go."



The chief was as good as his word, and Duncan now found

himself alone in that wild and desolate abode with the

helpless invalid and the fierce and dangerous brute.  The

latter listened to the movements of the Indian with that air

of sagacity that a bear is known to possess, until another

echo announced that he had also left the cavern, when it

turned and came waddling up to Duncan before whom it seated

itself in its natural attitude, erect like a man.  The youth

looked anxiously about him for some weapon, with which he

might make a resistance against the attack he now seriously

expected.



It seemed, however, as if the humor of the animal had

suddenly changed.  Instead of continuing its discontented

growls, or manifesting any further signs of anger, the whole

of its shaggy body shook violently, as if agitated by some

strange internal convulsion.  The huge and unwieldy talons

pawed stupidly about the grinning muzzle, and while Heyward

kept his eyes riveted on its movements with jealous

watchfulness, the grim head fell on one side and in its

place appeared the honest sturdy countenance of the scout,

who was indulging from the bottom of his soul in his own

peculiar expression of merriment.



"Hist!" said the wary woodsman, interrupting Heyward's

exclamation of surprise; "the varlets are about the place,

and any sounds that are not natural to witchcraft would

bring them back upon us in a body."



"Tell me the meaning of this masquerade; and why you have

attempted so desperate an adventure?"



"Ah, reason and calculation are often outdone by accident,"

returned the scout.  "But, as a story should always commence

at the beginning, I will tell you the whole in order.  After

we parted I placed the commandant and the Sagamore in an old

beaver lodge, where they are safer from the Hurons than they

would be in the garrison of Edward for your high north-west

Indians, not having as yet got the traders among them,

continued to venerate the beaver.  After which Uncas and I

pushed for the other encampment as was agreed.  Have you

seen the lad?"



"To my great grief!  He is captive, and condemned to die at

the rising of the sun."



"I had misgivings that such would be his fate," resumed the

scout, in a less confident and joyous tone.  But soon

regaining his naturally firm voice, he continued: "His bad

fortune is the true reason of my being here, for it would

never do to abandon such a boy to the Hurons.  A rare time

the knaves would have of it, could they tie 'The Bounding

Elk' and 'The Long Carabine', as they call me, to the same

stake!  Though why they have given me such a name I never

knew, there being as little likeness between the gifts of

'killdeer' and the performance of one of your real Canada

carabynes, as there is between the natur' of a pipe-stone

and a flint."



"Keep to your tale," said the impatient Heyward; "we know

not at what moment the Hurons may return."



"No fear of them.  A conjurer must have his time, like a

straggling priest in the settlements.  We are as safe from

interruption as a missionary would be at the beginning of a

two hours' discourse.  Well, Uncas and I fell in with a

return party of the varlets; the lad was much too forward

for a scout; nay, for that matter, being of hot blood, he

was not so much to blame; and, after all, one of the Hurons

proved a coward, and in fleeing led him into an ambushment."



"And dearly has he paid for the weakness."



The scout significantly passed his hand across his own

throat, and nodded, as if he said, "I comprehend your

meaning."  After which he continued, in a more audible

though scarcely more intelligible language:



"After the loss of the boy I turned upon the Hurons, as you

may judge.  There have been scrimmages atween one or two of

their outlyers and myself; but that is neither here nor

there.  So, after I had shot the imps, I got in pretty nigh

to the lodges without further commotion.  Then what should

luck do in my favor but lead me to the very spot where one

of the most famous conjurers of the tribe was dressing

himself, as I well knew, for some great battle with Satan--

though why should I call that luck, which it now seems was

an especial ordering of Providence.  So a judgmatical rap

over the head stiffened the lying impostor for a time, and

leaving him a bit of walnut for his supper, to prevent an

uproar, and stringing him up atween two saplings, I made

free with his finery, and took the part of the bear on

myself, in order that the operations might proceed."



"And admirably did you enact the character; the animal

itself might have been shamed by the representation."



"Lord, major," returned the flattered woodsman, "I should be

but a poor scholar for one who has studied so long in the

wilderness, did I not know how to set forth the movements of

natur' of such a beast.  Had it been now a catamount, or

even a full-size panther, I would have embellished a

performance for you worth regarding.  But it is no such

marvelous feat to exhibit the feats of so dull a beast;

though, for that matter, too, a bear may be overacted.  Yes,

yes; it is not every imitator that knows natur' may be

outdone easier than she is equaled.  But all our work is yet

before us.  Where is the gentle one?"



"Heaven knows.  I have examined every lodge in the village,

without discovering the slightest trace of her presence in

the tribe."



"You heard what the singer said, as he left us: 'She is at

hand, and expects you'?"



"I have been compelled to believe he alluded to this unhappy

woman."



"The simpleton was frightened, and blundered through his

message; but he had a deeper meaning.  Here are walls enough

to separate the hole settlement.  A bear ought to climb;

therefore will I take a look above them.  There may be honey-

pots hid in these rocks, and I am a beast, you know, that

has a hankering for the sweets."



The scout looked behind him, laughing at his own conceit,

while he clambered up the partition, imitating, as he went,

the clumsy motions of the beast he represented; but the

instant the summit was gained he made a gesture for silence,

and slid down with the utmost precipitation.



"She is here," he whispered, "and by that door you will find

her.  I would have spoken a word of comfort to the afflicted

soul; but the sight of such a monster might upset her

reason.  Though for that matter, major, you are none of the

most inviting yourself in your paint."



Duncan, who had already swung eagerly forward, drew

instantly back on hearing these discouraging words.



"Am I, then, so very revolting?" he demanded, with an air of

chagrin.



"You might not startle a wolf, or turn the Royal Americans

from a discharge; but I have seen the time when you had a

better favored look; your streaked countenances are not ill-

judged of by the squaws, but young women of white blood give

the preference to their own color.  See," he added, pointing

to a place where the water trickled from a rock, forming a

little crystal spring, before it found an issue through the

adjacent crevices; "you may easily get rid of the Sagamore's

daub, and when you come back I will try my hand at a new

embellishment.  It's as common for a conjurer to alter his

paint as for a buck in the settlements to change his

finery."



The deliberate woodsman had little occasion to hunt for

arguments to enforce his advice.  He was yet speaking when

Duncan availed himself of the water.  In a moment every

frightful or offensive mark was obliterated, and the youth

appeared again in the lineaments with which he had been

gifted by nature.  Thus prepared for an interview with his

mistress, he took a hasty leave of his companion, and

disappeared through the indicated passage.  The scout

witnessed his departure with complacency, nodding his head

after him, and muttering his good wishes; after which he

very coolly set about an examination of the state of the

larder, among the Hurons, the cavern, among other purposes,

being used as a receptacle for the fruits of their hunts.



Duncan had no other guide than a distant glimmering light,

which served, however, the office of a polar star to the

lover.  By its aid he was enabled to enter the haven of his

hopes, which was merely another apartment of the cavern,

that had been solely appropriated to the safekeeping of so

important a prisoner as a daughter of the commandant of

William Henry.  It was profusely strewed with the plunder of

that unlucky fortress.  In the midst of this confusion he

found her he sought, pale, anxious and terrified, but

lovely.  David had prepared her for such a visit.



"Duncan!" she exclaimed, in a voice that seemed to tremble

at the sounds created by itself.



"Alice!" he answered, leaping carelessly among trunks,

boxes, arms, and furniture, until he stood at her side.



"I knew that you would never desert me," she said, looking

up with a momentary glow on her otherwise dejected

countenance.  "But you are alone!  Grateful as it is to be

thus remembered, I could wish to think you are not entirely

alone."



Duncan, observing that she trembled in a manner which

betrayed her inability to stand, gently induced her to be

seated, while he recounted those leading incidents which it

has been our task to accord.  Alice listened with breathless

interest; and though the young man touched lightly on the

sorrows of the stricken father; taking care, however, not to

wound the self-love of his auditor, the tears ran as freely

down the cheeks of the daughter as though she had never wept

before.  The soothing tenderness of Duncan, however, soon

quieted the first burst of her emotions, and she then heard

him to the close with undivided attention, if not with

composure.



"And now, Alice," he added, "you will see how much is still

expected of you.  By the assistance of our experienced and

invaluable friend, the scout, we may find our way from this

savage people, but you will have to exert your utmost

fortitude.  Remember that you fly to the arms of your

venerable parent, and how much his happiness, as well as

your own, depends on those exertions."



"Can I do otherwise for a father who has done so much for

me?"



"And for me, too," continued the youth, gently pressing the

hand he held in both his own.



The look of innocence and surprise which he received in

return convinced Duncan of the necessity of being more

explicit.



"This is neither the place nor the occasion to detain you

with selfish wishes," he added; "but what heart loaded like

mine would not wish to cast its burden?  They say misery is

the closest of all ties; our common suffering in your behalf

left but little to be explained between your father and

myself."



"And, dearest Cora, Duncan; surely Cora was not forgotten?"



"Not forgotten! no; regretted, as woman was seldom mourned

before.  Your venerable father knew no difference between

his children; but I--Alice, you will not be offended when

I say, that to me her worth was in a degree obscured--"



"Then you knew not the merit of my sister," said Alice,

withdrawing her hand; "of you she ever speaks as of one who

is her dearest friend."



"I would gladly believe her such," returned Duncan, hastily;

"I could wish her to be even more; but with you, Alice, I

have the permission of your father to aspire to a still

nearer and dearer tie."



Alice trembled violently, and there was an instant during

which she bent her face aside, yielding to the emotions

common to her sex; but they quickly passed away, leaving her

mistress of her deportment, if not of her affections.



"Heyward," she said, looking him full in the face with a

touching expression of innocence and dependency, "give me

the sacred presence and the holy sanction of that parent

before you urge me further."



"Though more I should not, less I could not say," the youth

was about to answer, when he was interrupted by a light tap

on his shoulder.  Starting to his feet, he turned, and,

confronting the intruder, his looks fell on the dark form

and malignant visage of Magua.  The deep guttural laugh of

the savage sounded, at such a moment, to Duncan, like the

hellish taunt of a demon.  Had he pursued the sudden and

fierce impulse of the instant, he would have cast himself on

the Huron, and committed their fortunes to the issue of a

deadly struggle.  But, without arms of any description,

ignorant of what succor his subtle enemy could command, and

charged with the safety of one who was just then dearer than

ever to his heart, he no sooner entertained than he

abandoned the desperate intention.



"What is your purpose?" said Alice, meekly folding her arms

on her bosom, and struggling to conceal an agony of

apprehension in behalf of Heyward, in the usual cold and

distant manner with which she received the visits of her

captor.



The exulting Indian had resumed his austere countenance,

though he drew warily back before the menacing glance of the

young man's fiery eye.  He regarded both his captives for a

moment with a steady look, and then, stepping aside, he

dropped a log of wood across a door different from that by

which Duncan had entered.  The latter now comprehended the

manner of his surprise, and, believing himself irretrievably

lost, he drew Alice to his bosom, and stood prepared to meet

a fate which he hardly regretted, since it was to be

suffered in such company.  But Magua meditated no immediate

violence.  His first measures were very evidently taken to

secure his new captive; nor did he even bestow a second

glance at the motionless forms in the center of the cavern,

until he had completely cut off every hope of retreat

through the private outlet he had himself used.  He was

watched in all his movements by Heyward, who, however,

remained firm, still folding the fragile form of Alice to

his heart, at once too proud and too hopeless to ask favor

of an enemy so often foiled.  When Magua had effected his

object he approached his prisoners, and said in English:



"The pale faces trap the cunning beavers; but the red-skins

know how to take the Yengeese."



"Huron, do your worst!" exclaimed the excited Heyward,

forgetful that a double stake was involved in his life; "you

and your vengeance are alike despised."



"Will the white man speak these words at the stake?" asked

Magua; manifesting, at the same time, how little faith he

had in the other's resolution by the sneer that accompanied

his words.



"Here; singly to your face, or in the presence of your

nation."



"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief!" returned the Indian;

"he will go and bring his young men, to see how bravely a

pale face can laugh at tortures."



He turned away while speaking, and was about to leave the

place through the avenue by which Duncan had approached,

when a growl caught his ear, and caused him to hesitate.

The figure of the bear appeared in the door, where it sat,

rolling from side to side in its customary restlessness.

Magua, like the father of the sick woman, eyed it keenly for

a moment, as if to ascertain its character.  He was far

above the more vulgar superstitions of his tribe, and so

soon as he recognized the well-known attire of the conjurer,

he prepared to pass it in cool contempt.  But a louder and

more threatening growl caused him again to pause.  Then he

seemed as if suddenly resolved to trifle no longer, and

moved resolutely forward.



The mimic animal, which had advanced a little, retired

slowly in his front, until it arrived again at the pass,

when, rearing on his hinder legs, it beat the air with its

paws, in the manner practised by its brutal prototype.



"Fool!" exclaimed the chief, in Huron, "go play with the

children and squaws; leave men to their wisdom."



He once more endeavored to pass the supposed empiric,

scorning even the parade of threatening to use the knife, or

tomahawk, that was pendent from his belt.  Suddenly the

beast extended its arms, or rather legs, and inclosed him in

a grasp that might have vied with the far-famed power of the

"bear's hug" itself.  Heyward had watched the whole

procedure, on the part of Hawkeye, with breathless interest.

At first he relinquished his hold of Alice; then he caught

up a thong of buckskin, which had been used around some

bundle, and when he beheld his enemy with his two arms

pinned to his side by the iron muscles of the scout, he

rushed upon him, and effectually secured them there.  Arms,

legs, and feet were encircled in twenty folds of the thong,

in less time than we have taken to record the circumstance.

When the formidable Huron was completely pinioned, the scout

released his hold, and Duncan laid his enemy on his back,

utterly helpless.



Throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordinary

operation, Magua, though he had struggled violently, until

assured he was in the hands of one whose nerves were far

better strung than his own, had not uttered the slightest

exclamation.  But when Hawkeye, by way of making a summary

explanation of his conduct, removed the shaggy jaws of the

beast, and exposed his own rugged and earnest countenance to

the gaze of the Huron, the philosophy of the latter was so

far mastered as to permit him to utter the never failing:



"Hugh!"



"Ay, you've found your tongue," said his undisturbed

conqueror; "now, in order that you shall not use it to our

ruin, I must make free to stop your mouth."



As there was no time to be lost, the scout immediately set

about effecting so necessary a precaution; and when he had

gagged the Indian, his enemy might safely have been

considered as "hors de combat."



"By what place did the imp enter?" asked the industrious

scout, when his work was ended.  "Not a soul has passed my

way since you left me."



Duncan pointed out the door by which Magua had come, and

which now presented too many obstacles to a quick retreat.



"Bring on the gentle one, then," continued his friend; "we

must make a push for the woods by the other outlet."



"'Tis impossible!" said Duncan; "fear has overcome her, and

she is helpless.  Alice! my sweet, my own Alice, arouse

yourself; now is the moment to fly.  'Tis in vain! she

hears, but is unable to follow.  Go, noble and worthy

friend; save yourself, and leave me to my fate."



"Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings its

lesson!" returned the scout.  "There, wrap her in them

Indian cloths.  Conceal all of her little form.  Nay, that

foot has no fellow in the wilderness; it will betray her.

All, every part.  Now take her in your arms, and follow.

Leave the rest to me."



Duncan, as may be gathered from the words of his companion,

was eagerly obeying; and, as the other finished speaking, he

took the light person of Alice in his arms, and followed in

the footsteps of the scout.  They found the sick woman as

they had left her, still alone, and passed swiftly on, by

the natural gallery, to the place of entrance.  As they

approached the little door of bark, a murmur of voices

without announced that the friends and relatives of the

invalid were gathered about the place, patiently awaiting a

summons to re-enter.



"If I open my lips to speak," Hawkeye whispered, "my

English, which is the genuine tongue of a white-skin, will

tell the varlets that an enemy is among them.  You must give

'em your jargon, major; and say that we have shut the evil

spirit in the cave, and are taking the woman to the woods in

order to find strengthening roots.  Practise all your

cunning, for it is a lawful undertaking."



The door opened a little, as if one without was listening to

the proceedings within, and compelled the scout to cease his

directions.  A fierce growl repelled the eavesdropper, and

then the scout boldly threw open the covering of bark, and

left the place, enacting the character of a bear as he

proceeded.  Duncan kept close at his heels, and soon found

himself in the center of a cluster of twenty anxious

relatives and friends.



The crowd fell back a little, and permitted the father, and

one who appeared to be the husband of the woman, to

approach.



"Has my brother driven away the evil spirit?" demanded the

former.  "What has he in his arms?"



"Thy child," returned Duncan, gravely; "the disease has gone

out of her; it is shut up in the rocks.  I take the woman to

a distance, where I will strengthen her against any further

attacks.  She will be in the wigwam of the young man when

the sun comes again."



When the father had translated the meaning of the stranger's

words into the Huron language, a suppressed murmur announced

the satisfaction with which this intelligence was received.

The chief himself waved his hand for Duncan to proceed,

saying aloud, in a firm voice, and with a lofty manner:



"Go; I am a man, and I will enter the rock and fight the

wicked one."



Heyward had gladly obeyed, and was already past the little

group, when these startling words arrested him.



"Is my brother mad?" he exclaimed; "is he cruel?  He will

meet the disease, and it will enter him; or he will drive

out the disease, and it will chase his daughter into the

woods.  No; let my children wait without, and if the spirit

appears beat him down with clubs.  He is cunning, and will

bury himself in the mountain, when he sees how many are

ready to fight him."



This singular warning had the desired effect.  Instead of

entering the cavern, the father and husband drew their

tomahawks, and posted themselves in readiness to deal their

vengeance on the imaginary tormentor of their sick relative,

while the women and children broke branches from the bushes,

or seized fragments of the rock, with a similar intention.

At this favorable moment the counterfeit conjurers

disappeared.



Hawkeye, at the same time that he had presumed so far on the

nature of the Indian superstitions, was not ignorant that

they were rather tolerated than relied on by the wisest of

the chiefs.  He well knew the value of time in the present

emergency.  Whatever might be the extent of the self-

delusion of his enemies, and however it had tended to assist

his schemes, the slightest cause of suspicion, acting on the

subtle nature of an Indian, would be likely to prove fatal.

Taking the path, therefore, that was most likely to avoid

observation, he rather skirted than entered the village.

The warriors were still to be seen in the distance, by the

fading light of the fires, stalking from lodge to lodge.

But the children had abandoned their sports for their beds

of skins, and the quiet of night was already beginning to

prevail over the turbulence and excitement of so busy and

important an evening.



Alice revived under the renovating influence of the open

air, and, as her physical rather than her mental powers had

been the subject of weakness, she stood in no need of any

explanation of that which had occurred.



"Now let me make an effort to walk," she said, when they had

entered the forest, blushing, though unseen, that she had

not been sooner able to quit the arms of Duncan; "I am

indeed restored."



"Nay, Alice, you are yet too weak."



The maiden struggled gently to release herself, and Heyward

was compelled to part with his precious burden.  The

representative of the bear had certainly been an entire

stranger to the delicious emotions of the lover while his

arms encircled his mistress; and he was, perhaps, a stranger

also to the nature of that feeling of ingenuous shame that

oppressed the trembling Alice.  But when he found himself at

a suitable distance from the lodges he made a halt, and

spoke on a subject of which he was thoroughly the master.



"This path will lead you to the brook," he said; "follow its

northern bank until you come to a fall; mount the hill on

your right, and you will see the fires of the other people.

There you must go and demand protection; if they are true

Delawares you will be safe.  A distant flight with that

gentle one, just now, is impossible.  The Hurons would

follow up our trail, and master our scalps before we had got

a dozen miles.  Go, and Providence be with you."



"And you!" demanded Heyward, in surprise; "surely we part

not here?"



"The Hurons hold the pride of the Delawares; the last of the

high blood of the Mohicans is in their power," returned the

scout; "I go to see what can be done in his favor.  Had they

mastered your scalp, major, a knave should have fallen for

every hair it held, as I promised; but if the young Sagamore

is to be led to the stake, the Indians shall see also how a

man without a cross can die."



Not in the least offended with the decided preference that

the sturdy woodsman gave to one who might, in some degree,

be called the child of his adoption, Duncan still continued

to urge such reasons against so desperate an effort as

presented themselves.  He was aided by Alice, who mingled

her entreaties with those of Heyward that he would abandon a

resolution that promised so much danger, with so little hope

of success.  Their eloquence and ingenuity were expended in

vain.  The scout heard them attentively, but impatiently,

and finally closed the discussion, by answering, in a tone

that instantly silenced Alice, while it told Heyward how

fruitless any further remonstrances would be.



"I have heard," he said, "that there is a feeling in youth

which binds man to woman closer than the father is tied to

the son.  It may be so.  I have seldom been where women of

my color dwell; but such may be the gifts of nature in the

settlements.  You have risked life, and all that is dear to

you, to bring off this gentle one, and I suppose that some

such disposition is at the bottom of it all.  As for me, I

taught the lad the real character of a rifle; and well has

he paid me for it.  I have fou't at his side in many a

bloody scrimmage; and so long as I could hear the crack of

his piece in one ear, and that of the Sagamore in the other,

I knew no enemy was on my back.  Winters and summer, nights

and days, have we roved the wilderness in company, eating of

the same dish, one sleeping while the other watched; and

afore it shall be said that Uncas was taken to the torment,

and I at hand--There is but a single Ruler of us all,

whatever may the color of the skin; and Him I call to

witness, that before the Mohican boy shall perish for the

want of a friend, good faith shall depart the 'arth, and

'killdeer' become as harmless as the tooting we'pon of the

singer!"



Duncan released his hold on the arm of the scout, who

turned, and steadily retraced his steps toward the lodges.

After pausing a moment to gaze at his retiring form, the

successful and yet sorrowful Heyward and Alice took their

way together toward the distant village of the Delawares.







CHAPTER 26



"Bot.--Let me play the lion too."--Midsummer Night's

Dream



Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye he fully

comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to

incur.  In his return to the camp, his acute and practised

intellects were intently engaged in devising means to

counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his

enemies, that he knew were, in no degree, inferior to his

own.  Nothing but the color of his skin had saved the lives

of Magua and the conjurer, who would have been the first

victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout

believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the

nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a

descent from men that knew no cross of blood.  Accordingly,

he trusted to the withes and ligaments with which he had

bound his captives, and pursued his way directly toward the

center of the lodges.  As he approached the buildings, his

steps become more deliberate, and his vigilant eye suffered

no sign, whether friendly or hostile, to escape him.  A

neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and

appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed--

most probably on account of failing in some of the more

important requisites; such as wood or water.  A faint light

glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that,

notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without

a tenant.  Thither, then, the scout proceeded, like a

prudent general, who was about to feel the advanced

positions of his enemy, before he hazarded the main attack.



Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he

represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening, where he

might command a view of the interior.  It proved to be the

abiding place of David Gamut.  Hither the faithful singing-

master had now brought himself, together with all his

sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the

protection of Providence.  At the precise moment when his

ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in

the manner just mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in

his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary

being's profounded reflections.



However implicit the faith of David was in the performance

of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct

supernatural agency in the management of modern morality.

In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability

of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the

subject of a bear's singing; and yet he had been assured of

the latter, on the testimony of his own exquisite organs.

There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to

the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind.  He

was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which

occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his

arm, in a posture of melancholy musing.  The costume of the

votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that

so lately described, except that he had covered his bald

head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved

sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his

captors.



The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in

which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the

sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the

subject of so much solemn deliberation.  First making the

circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite

alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to

protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door,

into the very presence of Gamut.  The position of the latter

brought the fire between them; and when Hawkeye had seated

himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two

remained regarding each other without speaking.  The

suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved

too much for--we will not say the philosophy--but for

the pitch and resolution of David.  He fumbled for his pitch-

pipe, and arose with a confused intention of attempting a

musical exorcism.



"Dark and mysterious monster!" he exclaimed, while with

trembling hands he disposed of his auxiliary eyes, and

sought his never-failing resource in trouble, the gifted

version of the psalms; "I know not your nature nor intents;

but if aught you meditate against the person and rights of

one of the humblest servants of the temple, listen to the

inspired language of the youth of Israel, and repent."



The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well-known voice

replied:



"Put up the tooting we'pon, and teach your throat modesty.

Five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth

just now an hour of squalling."



"What art thou?" demanded David, utterly disqualified to

pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for

breath.



"A man like yourself; and one whose blood is as little

tainted by the cross of a bear, or an Indian, as your own.

Have you so soon forgotten from whom you received the

foolish instrument you hold in your hand?"



"Can these things be?" returned David, breathing more

freely, as the truth began to dawn upon him.  "I have found

many marvels during my sojourn with the heathen, but surely

nothing to excel this."



"Come, come," returned Hawkeye, uncasing his honest

countenance, the better to assure the wavering confidence of

his companion; "you may see a skin, which, if it be not as

white as one of the gentle ones, has no tinge of red to it

that the winds of the heaven and the sun have not bestowed.

Now let us to business."



"First tell me of the maiden, and of the youth who so

bravely sought her," interrupted David.



"Ay, they are happily freed from the tomahawks of these

varlets.  But can you put me on the scent of Uncas?"



"The young man is in bondage, and much I fear his death is

decreed.  I greatly mourn that one so well disposed should

die in his ignorance, and I have sought a goodly hymn--"



"Can you lead me to him?"



"The task will not be difficult," returned David,

hesitating; "though I greatly fear your presence would

rather increase than mitigate his unhappy fortunes."



"No more words, but lead on," returned Hawkeye, concealing

his face again, and setting the example in his own person,

by instantly quitting the lodge.



As they proceeded, the scout ascertained that his companion

found access to Uncas, under privilege of his imaginary

infirmity, aided by the favor he had acquired with one of

the guards, who, in consequence of speaking a little

English, had been selected by David as the subject of a

religious conversion.  How far the Huron comprehended the

intentions of his new friend may well be doubted; but as

exclusive attention is as flattering to a savage as to a

more civilized individual, it had produced the effect we

have mentioned.  It is unnecessary to repeat the shrewd

manner with which the scout extracted these particulars from

the simple David; neither shall we dwell in this place on

the nature of the instruction he delivered, when completely

master of all the necessary facts; as the whole will be

sufficiently explained to the reader in the course of the

narrative.



The lodge in which Uncas was confined was in the very center

of the village, and in a situation, perhaps, more difficult

than any other to approach, or leave, without observation.

But it was not the policy of Hawkeye to affect the least

concealment.  Presuming on his disguise, and his ability to

sustain the character he had assumed, he took the most plain

and direct route to the place.  The hour, however, afforded

him some little of that protection which he appeared so much

to despise.  The boys were already buried in sleep, and all

the women, and most of the warriors, had retired to their

lodges for the night.  Four or five of the latter only

lingered about the door of the prison of Uncas, wary by

close observers of the manner of their captive.



At the sight of Gamut, accompanied by one in the well-known

masquerade of their most distinguished conjurer, they

readily made way for them both.  Still they betrayed no

intention to depart.  On the other hand, they were evidently

disposed to remain bound to the place by an additional

interest in the mysterious mummeries that they of course

expected from such a visit.



From the total inability of the scout to address the Hurons

in their own language, he was compelled to trust the

conversation entirely to David.  Notwithstanding the

simplicity of the latter, he did ample justice to the

instructions he had received, more than fulfilling the

strongest hopes of his teacher.



"The Delawares are women!" he exclaimed, addressing himself

to the savage who had a slight understanding of the language

in which he spoke; "the Yengeese, my foolish countrymen,

have told them to take up the tomahawk, and strike their

fathers in the Canadas, and they have forgotten their sex.

Does my brother wish to hear 'Le Cerf Agile' ask for his

petticoats, and see him weep before the Hurons, at the

stake?"



The exclamation "Hugh!" delivered in a strong tone of

assent, announced the gratification the savage would receive

in witnessing such an exhibition of weakness in an enemy so

long hated and so much feared.



"Then let him step aside, and the cunning man will blow upon

the dog.  Tell it to my brothers."



The Huron explained the meaning of David to his fellows,

who, in their turn, listened to the project with that sort

of satisfaction that their untamed spirits might be expected

to find in such a refinement in cruelty.  They drew back a

little from the entrance and motioned to the supposed

conjurer to enter.  But the bear, instead of obeying,

maintained the seat it had taken, and growled:



"The cunning man is afraid that his breath will blow upon

his brothers, and take away their courage too," continued

David, improving the hint he received; "they must stand

further off."



The Hurons, who would have deemed such a misfortune the

heaviest calamity that could befall them, fell back in a

body, taking a position where they were out of earshot,

though at the same time they could command a view of the

entrance to the lodge.  Then, as if satisfied of their

safety, the scout left his position, and slowly entered the

place.  It was silent and gloomy, being tenanted solely by

the captive, and lighted by the dying embers of a fire,

which had been used for the purposed of cookery.



Uncas occupied a distant corner, in a reclining attitude,

being rigidly bound, both hands and feet, by strong and

painful withes.  When the frightful object first presented

itself to the young Mohican, he did not deign to bestow a

single glance on the animal.  The scout, who had left David

at the door, to ascertain they were not observed, thought it

prudent to preserve his disguise until assured of their

privacy.  Instead of speaking, therefore, he exerted himself

to enact one of the antics of the animal he represented.

The young Mohican, who at first believed his enemies had

sent in a real beast to torment him, and try his nerves,

detected in those performances that to Heyward had appeared

so accurate, certain blemishes, that at once betrayed the

counterfeit.  Had Hawkeye been aware of the low estimation

in which the skillful Uncas held his representations, he

would probably have prolonged the entertainment a little in

pique.  But the scornful expression of the young man's eye

admitted of so many constructions, that the worthy scout was

spared the mortification of such a discovery.  As soon,

therefore, as David gave the preconcerted signal, a low

hissing sound was heard in the lodge in place of the fierce

growlings of the bear.



Uncas had cast his body back against the wall of the hut and

closed his eyes, as if willing to exclude so contemptible

and disagreeable an object from his sight.  But the moment

the noise of the serpent was heard, he arose, and cast his

looks on each side of him, bending his head low, and turning

it inquiringly in every direction, until his keen eye rested

on the shaggy monster, where it remained riveted, as though

fixed by the power of a charm.  Again the same sounds were

repeated, evidently proceeding from the mouth of the beast.

Once more the eyes of the youth roamed over the interior of

the lodge, and returning to the former resting place, he

uttered, in a deep, suppressed voice:



"Hawkeye!"



"Cut his bands," said Hawkeye to David, who just then

approached them.



The singer did as he was ordered, and Uncas found his limbs

released.  At the same moment the dried skin of the animal

rattled, and presently the scout arose to his feet, in

proper person.  The Mohican appeared to comprehend the

nature of the attempt his friend had made, intuitively,

neither tongue nor feature betraying another symptom of

surprise.  When Hawkeye had cast his shaggy vestment, which

was done by simply loosing certain thongs of skin, he drew a

long, glittering knife, and put it in the hands of Uncas.



"The red Hurons are without," he said; "let us be ready."

At the same time he laid his finger significantly on another

similar weapon, both being the fruits of his prowess among

their enemies during the evening.



"We will go," said Uncas.



"Whither?"



"To the Tortoises; they are the children of my

grandfathers."



"Ay, lad," said the scout in English--a language he was

apt to use when a little abstracted in mind; "the same blood

runs in your veins, I believe; but time and distance has a

little changed its color.  What shall we do with the Mingoes

at the door?  They count six, and this singer is as good as

nothing."



"The Hurons are boasters," said Uncas, scornfully; "their

'totem' is a moose, and they run like snails.  The Delawares

are children of the tortoise, and they outstrip the deer."



"Ay, lad, there is truth in what you say; and I doubt not,

on a rush, you would pass the whole nation; and, in a

straight race of two miles, would be in, and get your breath

again, afore a knave of them all was within hearing of the

other village.  But the gift of a white man lies more in his

arms than in his legs.  As for myself, I can brain a Huron

as well as a better man; but when it comes to a race the

knaves would prove too much for me."



Uncas, who had already approached the door, in readiness to

lead the way, now recoiled, and placed himself, once more,

in the bottom of the lodge.  But Hawkeye, who was too much

occupied with his own thoughts to note the movement,

continued speaking more to himself than to his companion.



"After all," he said, "it is unreasonable to keep one man in

bondage to the gifts of another.  So, Uncas, you had better

take the lead, while I will put on the skin again, and trust

to cunning for want of speed."



The young Mohican made no reply, but quietly folded his

arms, and leaned his body against one of the upright posts

that supported the wall of the hut.



"Well," said the scout looking up at him, "why do you tarry?

There will be time enough for me, as the knaves will give

chase to you at first."



"Uncas will stay," was the calm reply.



"For what?"



"To fight with his father's brother, and die with the friend

of the Delawares."



"Ay, lad," returned Hawkeye, squeezing the hand of Uncas

between his own iron fingers; "'twould have been more like a

Mingo than a Mohican had you left me.  But I thought I would

make the offer, seeing that youth commonly loves life.

Well, what can't be done by main courage, in war, must be

done by circumvention.  Put on the skin; I doubt not you can

play the bear nearly as well as myself."



Whatever might have been the private opinion of Uncas of

their respective abilities in this particular, his grave

countenance manifested no opinion of his superiority.  He

silently and expeditiously encased himself in the covering

of the beast, and then awaited such other movements as his

more aged companion saw fit to dictate.



"Now, friend," said Hawkeye, addressing David, "an exchange

of garments will be a great convenience to you, inasmuch as

you are but little accustomed to the make-shifts of the

wilderness.  Here, take my hunting shirt and cap, and give

me your blanket and hat.  You must trust me with the book

and spectacles, as well as the tooter, too; if we ever meet

again, in better times, you shall have all back again, with

many thanks into the bargain."



David parted with the several articles named with a

readiness that would have done great credit to his

liberality, had he not certainly profited, in many

particulars, by the exchange.  Hawkeye was not long in

assuming his borrowed garments; and when his restless eyes

were hid behind the glasses, and his head was surmounted by

the triangular beaver, as their statures were not

dissimilar, he might readily have passed for the singer, by

starlight.  As soon as these dispositions were made, the

scout turned to David, and gave him his parting

instructions.



"Are you much given to cowardice?" he bluntly asked, by way

of obtaining a suitable understanding of the whole case

before he ventured a prescription.



"My pursuits are peaceful, and my temper, I humbly trust, is

greatly given to mercy and love," returned David, a little

nettled at so direct an attack on his manhood; "but there

are none who can say that I have ever forgotten my faith in

the Lord, even in the greatest straits."



"Your chiefest danger will be at the moment when the savages

find out that they have been deceived.  If you are not then

knocked on the head, your being a non-composser will protect

you; and you'll then have a good reason to expect to die in

your bed.  If you stay, it must be to sit down here in the

shadow, and take the part of Uncas, until such times as the

cunning of the Indians discover the cheat, when, as I have

already said, your times of trial will come.  So choose for

yourself--to make a rush or tarry here."



"Even so," said David, firmly; "I will abide in the place of

the Delaware.  Bravely and generously has he battled in my

behalf, and this, and more, will I dare in his service."



"You have spoken as a man, and like one who, under wiser

schooling, would have been brought to better things.  Hold

your head down, and draw in your legs; their formation might

tell the truth too early.  Keep silent as long as may be;

and it would be wise, when you do speak, to break out

suddenly in one of your shoutings, which will serve to

remind the Indians that you are not altogether as

responsible as men should be.  If however, they take your

scalp, as I trust and believe they will not, depend on it,

Uncas and I will not forget the deed, but revenge it as

becomes true warriors and trusty friends."



"Hold!" said David, perceiving that with this assurance they

were about to leave him; "I am an unworthy and humble

follower of one who taught not the damnable principle of

revenge.  Should I fall, therefore, seek no victims to my

manes, but rather forgive my destroyers; and if you remember

them at all, let it be in prayers for the enlightening of

their minds, and for their eternal welfare."



The scout hesitated, and appeared to muse.



"There is a principle in that," he said, "different from the

law of the woods; and yet it is fair and noble to reflect

upon."  Then heaving a heavy sigh, probably among the last

he ever drew in pining for a condition he had so long

abandoned, he added: "it is what I would wish to practise

myself, as one without a cross of blood, though it is not

always easy to deal with an Indian as you would with a

fellow Christian.  God bless you, friend; I do believe your

scent is not greatly wrong, when the matter is duly

considered, and keeping eternity before the eyes, though

much depends on the natural gifts, and the force of

temptation."



So saying, the scout returned and shook David cordially by

the hand; after which act of friendship he immediately left

the lodge, attended by the new representative of the beast.



The instant Hawkeye found himself under the observation of

the Hurons, he drew up his tall form in the rigid manner of

David, threw out his arm in the act of keeping time, and

commenced what he intended for an imitation of his psalmody.

Happily for the success of this delicate adventure, he had

to deal with ears but little practised in the concord of

sweet sounds, or the miserable effort would infallibly have

been detected.  It was necessary to pass within a dangerous

proximity of the dark group of the savages, and the voice of

the scout grew louder as they drew nigher.  When at the

nearest point the Huron who spoke the English thrust out an

arm, and stopped the supposed singing-master.



"The Delaware dog!" he said, leaning forward, and peering

through the dim light to catch the expression of the other's

features; "is he afraid?  Will the Hurons hear his groans?"



A growl, so exceedingly fierce and natural, proceeded from

the beast, that the young Indian released his hold and

started aside, as if to assure himself that it was not a

veritable bear, and no counterfeit, that was rolling before

him.  Hawkeye, who feared his voice would betray him to his

subtle enemies, gladly profited by the interruption, to

break out anew in such a burst of musical expression as

would, probably, in a more refined state of society have

been termed "a grand crash."  Among his actual auditors,

however, it merely gave him an additional claim to that

respect which they never withhold from such as are believed

to be the subjects of mental alienation.  The little knot on

Indians drew back in a body, and suffered, as they thought,

the conjurer and his inspired assistant to proceed.



It required no common exercise of fortitude in Uncas and the

scout to continue the dignified and deliberate pace they had

assumed in passing the lodge; especially as they immediately

perceived that curiosity had so far mastered fear, as to

induce the watchers to approach the hut, in order to witness

the effect of the incantations.  The least injudicious or

impatient movement on the part of David might betray them,

and time was absolutely necessary to insure the safety of

the scout.  The loud noise the latter conceived it politic

to continue, drew many curious gazers to the doors of the

different huts as thy passed; and once or twice a dark-

looking warrior stepped across their path, led to the act by

superstition and watchfulness.  They were not, however,

interrupted, the darkness of the hour, and the boldness of

the attempt, proving their principal friends.



The adventurers had got clear of the village, and were now

swiftly approaching the shelter of the woods, when a loud

and long cry arose from the lodge where Uncas had been

confined.  The Mohican started on his feet, and shook his

shaggy covering, as though the animal he counterfeited was

about to make some desperate effort.



"Hold!" said the scout, grasping his friend by the shoulder,

"let them yell again!  'Twas nothing but wonderment."



He had no occasion to delay, for at the next instant a burst

of cries filled the outer air, and ran along the whole

extent of the village.  Uncas cast his skin, and stepped

forth in his own beautiful proportions.  Hawkeye tapped him

lightly on the shoulder, and glided ahead.



"Now let the devils strike our scent!" said the scout,

tearing two rifles, with all their attendant accouterments,

from beneath a bush, and flourishing "killdeer" as he handed

Uncas his weapon; "two, at least, will find it to their

deaths."



Then, throwing their pieces to a low trail, like sportsmen

in readiness for their game, they dashed forward, and were

soon buried in the somber darkness of the forest.







CHAPTER 27



"Ant.  I shall remember: When C�sar says Do this, it is

performed."--Julius Caesar



The impatience of the savages who lingered about the prison

of Uncas, as has been seen, had overcome their dread of the

conjurer's breath.  They stole cautiously, and with beating

hearts, to a crevice, through which the faint light of the

fire was glimmering.  For several minutes they mistook the

form of David for that of the prisoner; but the very

accident which Hawkeye had foreseen occurred.  Tired of

keeping the extremities of his long person so near together,

the singer gradually suffered the lower limbs to extend

themselves, until one of his misshapen feet actually came in

contact with and shoved aside the embers of the fire.  At

first the Hurons believed the Delaware had been thus

deformed by witchcraft.  But when David, unconscious of

being observed, turned his head, and exposed his simple,

mild countenance, in place of the haughty lineaments of

their prisoner, it would have exceeded the credulity of even

a native to have doubted any longer.  They rushed together

into the lodge, and, laying their hands, with but little

ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected the

imposition.  They arose the cry first heard by the

fugitives.  It was succeeded by the most frantic and angry

demonstrations of vengeance.  David, however, firm in his

determination to cover the retreat of his friends, was

compelled to believe that his own final hour had come.

Deprived of his book and his pipe, he was fain to trust to a

memory that rarely failed him on such subjects; and breaking

forth in a loud and impassioned strain, he endeavored to

smooth his passage into the other world by singing the

opening verse of a funeral anthem.  The Indians were

seasonably reminded of his infirmity, and, rushing into the

open air, they aroused the village in the manner described.



A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the protection

of anything defensive.  The sounds of the alarm were,

therefore, hardly uttered before two hundred men were afoot,

and ready for the battle or the chase, as either might be

required.  The escape was soon known; and the whole tribe

crowded, in a body, around the council-lodge, impatiently

awaiting the instruction of their chiefs.  In such a sudden

demand on their wisdom, the presence of the cunning Magua

could scarcely fail of being needed.  His name was

mentioned, and all looked round in wonder that he did not

appear.  Messengers were then despatched to his lodge

requiring his presence.



In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most discreet of

the young men were ordered to make the circuit of the

clearing, under cover of the woods, in order to ascertain

that their suspected neighbors, the Delawares, designed no

mischief.  Women and children ran to and fro; and, in short,

the whole encampment exhibited another scene of wild and

savage confusion.  Gradually, however, these symptoms of

disorder diminished; and in a few minutes the oldest and

most distinguished chiefs were assembled in the lodge, in

grave consultation.



The clamor of many voices soon announced that a party

approached, who might be expected to communicate some

intelligence that would explain the mystery of the novel

surprise.  The crowd without gave way, and several warriors

entered the place, bringing with them the hapless conjurer,

who had been left so long by the scout in duress.



Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal estimation

among the Hurons, some believing implicitly in his power,

and others deeming him an impostor, he was now listened to

by all with the deepest attention.  When his brief story was

ended, the father of the sick woman stepped forth, and, in a

few pithy expression, related, in his turn, what he knew.

These two narratives gave a proper direction to the

subsequent inquiries, which were now made with the

characteristic cunning of savages.



Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng to

the cavern, ten of the wisest and firmest among the chiefs

were selected to prosecute the investigation.  As no time

was to be lost, the instant the choice was made the

individuals appointed rose in a body and left the place

without speaking.  On reaching the entrance, the younger men

in advance made way for their seniors; and the whole

proceeded along the low, dark gallery, with the firmness of

warriors ready to devote themselves to the public good,

though, at the same time, secretly doubting the nature of

the power with which they were about to contend.



The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and gloomy.

The woman lay in her usual place and posture, though there

were those present who affirmed they had seen her borne to

the woods by the supposed "medicine of the white men."  Such

a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale related by

the father caused all eyes to be turned on him.  Chafed by

the silent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so

unaccountable a circumstance, the chief advanced to the side

of the bed, and, stooping, cast an incredulous look at the

features, as if distrusting their reality.  His daughter was

dead.



The unerring feeling of nature for a moment prevailed and

the old warrior hid his eyes in sorrow.  Then, recovering

his self-possession, he faced his companions, and, pointing

toward the corpse, he said, in the language of his people:



"The wife of my young man has left us!  The Great Spirit is

angry with his children."



The mournful intelligence was received in solemn silence.

After a short pause, one of the elder Indians was about to

speak, when a dark-looking object was seen rolling out of an

adjoining apartment, into the very center of the room where

they stood.  Ignorant of the nature of the beings they had

to deal with, the whole party drew back a little, and,

rising on end, exhibited the distorted but still fierce and

sullen features of Magua.  The discovery was succeeded by a

general exclamation of amazement.



As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief was

understood, several knives appeared, and his limbs and

tongue were quickly released.  The Huron arose, and shook

himself like a lion quitting his lair.  Not a word escaped

him, though his hand played convulsively with the handle of

his knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole party,

as if they sought an object suited to the first burst of his

vengeance.



It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even David, that

they were all beyond the reach of his arm at such a moment;

for, assuredly, no refinement in cruelty would then have

deferred their deaths, in opposition to the promptings of

the fierce temper that nearly choked him.  Meeting

everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the savage grated

his teeth together like rasps of iron, and swallowed his

passion for want of a victim on whom to vent it.  This

exhibition of anger was noted by all present; and from an

apprehension of exasperating a temper that was already

chafed nearly to madness, several minutes were suffered to

pass before another word was uttered.  When, however,

suitable time had elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.



"My friend has found an enemy," he said.  "Is he nigh that

the Hurons might take revenge?"



"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of

thunder.



Another longer and expressive silence was observed, and was

broken, as before, with due precaution, by the same

individual.



"The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far," he said; "but

my young men are on his trail."



"Is he gone?" demanded Magua, in tones so deep and guttural,

that they seemed to proceed from his inmost chest.



"An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware has

blinded our eyes."



"An evil spirit!" repeated the other, mockingly; "'tis the

spirit that has taken the lives of so many Hurons; the

spirit that slew my young men at 'the tumbling river'; that

took their scalps at the 'healing spring'; and who has, now,

bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil!"



"Of whom does my friend speak?"



"Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a Huron

under a pale skin--La Longue Carabine."



The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the usual

effect among his auditors.  But when time was given for

reflection, and the warriors remembered that their

formidable and daring enemy had even been in the bosom of

their encampment, working injury, fearful rage took the

place of wonder, and all those fierce passions with which

the bosom of Magua had just been struggling were suddenly

transferred to his companions.  Some among them gnashed

their teeth in anger, others vented their feelings in yells,

and some, again, beat the air as frantically as if the

object of their resentment were suffering under their blows.

But this sudden outbreaking of temper as quickly subsided in

the still and sullen restraint they most affected in their

moments of inaction.



Magua, who had in his turn found leisure for reflection, now

changed his manner, and assumed the air of one who knew how

to think and act with a dignity worthy of so grave a

subject.



"Let us go to my people," he said; "they wait for us."



His companions consented in silence, and the whole of the

savage party left the cavern and returned to the council-

lodge.  When they were seated, all eyes turned on Magua, who

understood, from such an indication, that, by common

consent, they had devolved the duty of relating what had

passed on him.  He arose, and told his tale without

duplicity or reservation.  The whole deception practised by

both Duncan and Hawkeye was, of course, laid naked, and no

room was found, even for the most superstitious of the

tribe, any longer to affix a doubt on the character of the

occurrences.  It was but too apparent that they had been

insultingly, shamefully, disgracefully deceived.  When he

had ended, and resumed his seat, the collected tribe--for

his auditors, in substance, included all the fighting men of

the party--sat regarding each other like men astonished

equally at the audacity and the success of their enemies.

The next consideration, however, was the means and

opportunities for revenge.



Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the fugitives;

and then the chiefs applied themselves, in earnest, to the

business of consultation.  Many different expedients were

proposed by the elder warriors, in succession, to all of

which Magua was a silent and respectful listener.  That

subtle savage had recovered his artifice and self-command,

and now proceeded toward his object with his customary

caution and skill.  It was only when each one disposed to

speak had uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to

advance his own opinions.  They were given with additional

weight from the circumstance that some of the runners had

already returned, and reported that their enemies had been

traced so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought

safety in the neighboring camp of their suspected allies,

the Delawares.  With the advantage of possessing this

important intelligence, the chief warily laid his plans

before his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated from

his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without a

dissenting voice.  They were, briefly, as follows, both in

opinions and in motives.



It has been already stated that, in obedience to a policy

rarely departed from, the sisters were separated so soon as

they reached the Huron village.  Magua had early discovered

that in retaining the person of Alice, he possessed the most

effectual check on Cora.  When they parted, therefore, he

kept the former within reach of his hand, consigning the one

he most valued to the keeping of their allies.  The

arrangement was understood to be merely temporary, and was

made as much with a view to flatter his neighbors as in

obedience to the invariable rule of Indian policy.



While goaded incessantly by these revengeful impulses that

in a savage seldom slumber, the chief was still attentive to

his more permanent personal interests.  The follies and

disloyalty committed in his youth were to be expiated by a

long and painful penance, ere he could be restored to the

full enjoyment of the confidence of his ancient people; and

without confidence there could be no authority in an Indian

tribe.  In this delicate and arduous situation, the crafty

native had neglected no means of increasing his influence;

and one of the happiest of his expedients had been the

success with which he had cultivated the favor of their

powerful and dangerous neighbors.  The result of his

experiment had answered all the expectations of his policy;

for the Hurons were in no degree exempt from that governing

principle of nature, which induces man to value his gifts

precisely in the degree that they are appreciated by others.



But, while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to

general considerations, Magua never lost sight of his

individual motives.  The latter had been frustrated by the

unlooked-for events which had placed all his prisoners

beyond his control; and he now found himself reduced to the

necessity of suing for favors to those whom it had so lately

been his policy to oblige.



Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacherous

schemes to surprise the Delawares and, by gaining possession

of their camp, to recover their prisoners by the same blow;

for all agreed that their honor, their interests, and the

peace and happiness of their dead countrymen, imperiously

required them speedily to immolate some victims to their

revenge.  But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of such

doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in defeating.

He exposed their risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and

it was only after he had removed every impediment, in the

shape of opposing advice, that he ventured to propose his

own projects.



He commenced by flattering the self-love of his auditors; a

never-failing method of commanding attention.  When he had

enumerated the many different occasions on which the Hurons

had exhibited their courage and prowess, in the punishment

of insults, he digressed in a high encomium on the virtue of

wisdom.  He painted the quality as forming the great point

of difference between the beaver and other brutes; between

the brutes and men; and, finally, between the Hurons, in

particular, and the rest of the human race.  After he had

sufficiently extolled the property of discretion, he

undertook to exhibit in what manner its use was applicable

to the present situation of their tribe.  On the one hand,

he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the

Canadas, who had looked upon his children with a hard eye

since their tomahawks had been so red; on the other, a

people as numerous as themselves, who spoke a different

language, possessed different interests, and loved them not,

and who would be glad of any pretense to bring them in

disgrace with the great white chief.  Then he spoke of their

necessities; of the gifts they had a right to expect for

their past services; of their distance from their proper

hunting-grounds and native villages; and of the necessity of

consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in so

critical circumstances.  When he perceived that, while the

old men applauded his moderation, many of the fiercest and

most distinguished of the warriors listened to these politic

plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led them back to the

subject which they most loved.  He spoke openly of the

fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would be

a complete and final triumph over their enemies.  He even

darkly hinted that their success might be extended, with

proper caution, in such a manner as to include the

destruction of all whom they had reason to hate.  In short,

he so blended the warlike with the artful, the obvious with

the obscure, as to flatter the propensities of both parties,

and to leave to each subject of hope, while neither could

say it clearly comprehended his intentions.



The orator, or the politician, who can produce such a state

of things, is commonly popular with his contemporaries,

however he may be treated by posterity.  All perceived that

more was meant than was uttered, and each one believed that

the hidden meaning was precisely such as his own faculties

enabled him to understand, or his own wishes led him to

anticipate.



In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that the

management of Magua prevailed.  The tribe consented to act

with deliberation, and with one voice they committed the

direction of the whole affair to the government of the chief

who had suggested such wise and intelligible expedients.



Magua had now attained one great object of all his cunning

and enterprise.  The ground he had lost in the favor of his

people was completely regained, and he found himself even

placed at the head of affairs.  He was, in truth, their

ruler; and, so long as he could maintain his popularity, no

monarch could be more despotic, especially while the tribe

continued in a hostile country.  Throwing off, therefore,

the appearance of consultation, he assumed the grave air of

authority necessary to support the dignity of his office.



Runners were despatched for intelligence in different

directions; spies were ordered to approach and feel the

encampment of the Delawares; the warriors were dismissed to

their lodges, with an intimation that their services would

soon be needed; and the women and children were ordered to

retire, with a warning that it was their province to be

silent.  When these several arrangements were made, Magua

passed through the village, stopping here and there to pay a

visit where he thought his presence might be flattering to

the individual.  He confirmed his friends in their

confidence, fixed the wavering, and gratified all.  Then he

sought his own lodge.  The wife the Huron chief had

abandoned, when he was chased from among his people, was

dead.  Children he had none; and he now occupied a hut,

without companion of any sort.  It was, in fact, the

dilapidated and solitary structure in which David had been

discovered, and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on

those few occasions when they met, with the contemptuous

indifference of a haughty superiority.



Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy were

ended.  While others slept, however, he neither knew or

sought repose.  Had there been one sufficiently curious to

have watched the movements of the newly elected chief, he

would have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge, musing

on the subject of his future plans, from the hour of his

retirement to the time he had appointed for the warriors to

assemble again.  Occasionally the air breathed through the

crevices of the hut, and the low flame that fluttered about

the embers of the fire threw their wavering light on the

person of the sullen recluse.  At such moments it would not

have been difficult to have fancied the dusky savage the

Prince of Darkness brooding on his own fancied wrongs, and

plotting evil.



Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after warrior

entered the solitary hut of Magua, until they had collected

to the number of twenty.  Each bore his rifle, and all the

other accouterments of war, though the paint was uniformly

peaceful.  The entrance of these fierce-looking beings was

unnoticed: some seating themselves in the shadows of the

place, and others standing like motionless statues, until

the whole of the designated band was collected.



Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, marching

himself in advance.  They followed their leader singly, and

in that well-known order which has obtained the

distinguishing appellation of "Indian file."  Unlike other

men engaged in the spirit-stirring business of war, they

stole from their camp unostentatiously and unobserved

resembling a band of gliding specters, more than warriors

seeking the bubble reputation by deeds of desperate daring.



Instead of taking the path which led directly toward the

camp of the Delawares, Magua led his party for some distance

down the windings of the stream, and along the little

artificial lake of the beavers.  The day began to dawn as

they entered the clearing which had been formed by those

sagacious and industrious animals.  Though Magua, who had

resumed his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox on the

dressed skin which formed his robe, there was one chief of

his party who carried the beaver as his peculiar symbol, or

"totem."  There would have been a species of profanity in

the omission, had this man passed so powerful a community of

his fancied kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his

regard.  Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as kind

and friendly as if he were addressing more intelligent

beings.  He called the animals his cousins, and reminded

them that his protecting influence was the reason they

remained unharmed, while many avaricious traders were

prompting the Indians to take their lives.  He promised a

continuance of his favors, and admonished them to be

grateful.  After which, he spoke of the expedition in which

he was himself engaged, and intimated, though with

sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency of

bestowing on their relative a portion of that wisdom for

which they were so renowned.*



* These harangues of the beasts were frequent among

the Indians.  They often address their victims in this way,

reproaching them for cowardice or commending their

resolution, as they may happen to exhibit fortitude or the

reverse, in suffering.



During the utterance of this extraordinary address, the

companions of the speaker were as grave and as attentive to

his language as though they were all equally impressed with

its propriety.  Once or twice black objects were seen rising

to the surface of the water, and the Huron expressed

pleasure, conceiving that his words were not bestowed in

vain.  Just as he ended his address, the head of a large

beaver was thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen

walls had been much injured, and which the party had

believed, from its situation, to be uninhabited.  Such an

extraordinary sign of confidence was received by the orator

as a highly favorable omen; and though the animal retreated

a little precipitately, he was lavish of his thanks and

commendations.



When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost in

gratifying the family affection of the warrior, he again

made the signal to proceed.  As the Indians moved away in a

body, and with a step that would have been inaudible to the

ears of any common man, the same venerable-looking beaver

once more ventured his head from its cover.  Had any of the

Hurons turned to look behind them, they would have seen the

animal watching their movements with an interest and

sagacity that might easily have been mistaken for reason.

Indeed, so very distinct and intelligible were the devices

of the quadruped, that even the most experienced observer

would have been at a loss to account for its actions, until

the moment when the party entered the forest, when the whole

would have been explained, by seeing the entire animal issue

from the lodge, uncasing, by the act, the grave features of

Chingachgook from his mask of fur.







CHAPTER 28



"Brief, I pray for you; for you see, 'tis a busy time with

me."--Much Ado About Nothing



The tribe, or rather half tribe, of Delawares, which has

been so often mentioned, and whose present place of

encampment was so nigh the temporary village of the Hurons,

could assemble about an equal number of warriors with the

latter people.  Like their neighbors, they had followed

Montcalm into the territories of the English crown, and were

making heavy and serious inroads on the hunting-grounds of

the Mohawks; though they had seen fit, with the mysterious

reserve so common among the natives, to withhold their

assistance at the moment when it was most required.  The

French had accounted for this unexpected defection on the

part of their ally in various ways.  It was the prevalent

opinion, however, that they had been influenced by

veneration for the ancient treaty, that had once made them

dependent on the Six Nations for military protection, and

now rendered them reluctant to encounter their former

masters.  As for the tribe itself, it had been content to

announce to Montcalm, through his emissaries, with Indian

brevity, that their hatchets were dull, and time was

necessary to sharpen them.  The politic captain of the

Canadas had deemed it wiser to submit to entertain a passive

friend, than by any acts of ill-judged severity to convert

him into an open enemy.



On that morning when Magua led his silent party from the

settlement of the beavers into the forests, in the manner

described, the sun rose upon the Delaware encampment as if

it had suddenly burst upon a busy people, actively employed

in all the customary avocations of high noon.  The women ran

from lodge to lodge, some engaged in preparing their

morning's meal, a few earnestly bent on seeking the comforts

necessary to their habits, but more pausing to exchange

hasty and whispered sentences with their friends.  The

warriors were lounging in groups, musing more than they

conversed and when a few words were uttered, speaking like

men who deeply weighed their opinions.  The instruments of

the chase were to be seen in abundance among the lodges; but

none departed.  Here and there a warrior was examining his

arms, with an attention that is rarely bestowed on the

implements, when no other enemy than the beasts of the

forest is expected to be encountered.  And occasionally, the

eyes of a whole group were turned simultaneously toward a

large and silent lodge in the center of the village, as if

it contained the subject of their common thoughts.



During the existence of this scene, a man suddenly appeared

at the furthest extremity of a platform of rock which formed

the level of the village.  He was without arms, and his

paint tended rather to soften than increase the natural

sternness of his austere countenance.  When in full view of

the Delawares he stopped, and made a gesture of amity, by

throwing his arm upward toward heaven, and then letting it

fall impressively on his breast.  The inhabitants of the

village answered his salute by a low murmur of welcome, and

encouraged him to advance by similar indications of

friendship.  Fortified by these assurances, the dark figure

left the brow of the natural rocky terrace, where it had

stood a moment, drawn in a strong outline against the

blushing morning sky, and moved with dignity into the very

center of the huts.  As he approached, nothing was audible

but the rattling of the light silver ornaments that loaded

his arms and neck, and the tinkling of the little bells that

fringed his deerskin moccasins.  He made, as he advanced,

many courteous signs of greeting to the men he passed,

neglecting to notice the women, however, like one who deemed

their favor, in the present enterprise, of no importance.

When he had reached the group in which it was evident, by

the haughtiness of their common mien, that the principal

chiefs were collected, the stranger paused, and then the

Delawares saw that the active and erect form that stood

before them was that of the well-known Huron chief, Le

Renard Subtil.



His reception was grave, silent, and wary.  The warriors in

front stepped aside, opening the way to their most approved

orator by the action; one who spoke all those languages that

were cultivated among the northern aborigines.



"The wise Huron is welcome," said the Delaware, in the

language of the Maquas; "he is come to eat his 'succotash'*,

with his brothers of the lakes."



* A dish composed of cracked corn and beans.  It is

much used also by the whites.  By corn is meant maise.



"He is come," repeated Magua, bending his head with the

dignity of an eastern prince.



The chief extended his arm and taking the other by the

wrist, they once more exchanged friendly salutations.  Then

the Delaware invited his guest to enter his own lodge, and

share his morning meal.  The invitation was accepted; and

the two warriors, attended by three or four of the old men,

walked calmly away, leaving the rest of the tribe devoured

by a desire to understand the reasons of so unusual a visit,

and yet not betraying the least impatience by sign or word.



During the short and frugal repast that followed, the

conversation was extremely circumspect, and related entirely

to the events of the hunt, in which Magua had so lately been

engaged.  It would have been impossible for the most

finished breeding to wear more of the appearance of

considering the visit as a thing of course, than did his

hosts, notwithstanding every individual present was

perfectly aware that it must be connected with some secret

object and that probably of importance to themselves.  When

the appetites of the whole were appeased, the squaws removed

the trenchers and gourds, and the two parties began to

prepare themselves for a subtle trial of their wits.



"Is the face of my great Canada father turned again toward

his Huron children?" demanded the orator of the Delawares.



"When was it ever otherwise?" returned Magua.  "He calls my

people 'most beloved'."



The Delaware gravely bowed his acquiescence to what he knew

to be false, and continued:



"The tomahawks of your young men have been very red."



"It is so; but they are now bright and dull; for the

Yengeese are dead, and the Delawares are our neighbors."



The other acknowledged the pacific compliment by a gesture

of the hand, and remained silent.  Then Magua, as if

recalled to such a recollection, by the allusion to the

massacre, demanded:



"Does my prisoner give trouble to my brothers?"



"She is welcome."



"The path between the Hurons and the Delawares is short and

it is open; let her be sent to my squaws, if she gives

trouble to my brother."



"She is welcome," returned the chief of the latter nation,

still more emphatically.



The baffled Magua continued silent several minutes,

apparently indifferent, however, to the repulse he had

received in this his opening effort to regain possession of

Cora.



"Do my young men leave the Delawares room on the mountains

for their hunts?"  he at length continued.



"The Lenape are rulers of their own hills," returned the

other a little haughtily.



"It is well.  Justice is the master of a red-skin.  Why

should they brighten their tomahawks and sharpen their

knives against each other?  Are not the pale faces thicker

than the swallows in the season of flowers?"



"Good!" exclaimed two or three of his auditors at the same

time.



Magua waited a little, to permit his words to soften the

feelings of the Delawares, before he added:



"Have there not been strange moccasins in the woods?  Have

not my brothers scented the feet of white men?"



"Let my Canada father come," returned the other, evasively;

"his children are ready to see him."



"When the great chief comes, it is to smoke with the Indians

in their wigwams.  The Hurons say, too, he is welcome.  But

the Yengeese have long arms, and legs that never tire!  My

young men dreamed they had seen the trail of the Yengeese

nigh the village of the Delawares!"



"They will not find the Lenape asleep."



"It is well.  The warrior whose eye is open can see his

enemy," said Magua, once more shifting his ground, when he

found himself unable to penetrate the caution of his

companion.  "I have brought gifts to my brother.  His nation

would not go on the warpath, because they did not think it

well, but their friends have remembered where they lived."



When he had thus announced his liberal intention, the crafty

chief arose, and gravely spread his presents before the

dazzled eyes of his hosts.  They consisted principally of

trinkets of little value, plundered from the slaughtered

females of William Henry.  In the division of the baubles

the cunning Huron discovered no less art than in their

selection.  While he bestowed those of greater value on the

two most distinguished warriors, one of whom was his host,

he seasoned his offerings to their inferiors with such well-

timed and apposite compliments, as left them no ground of

complaint.  In short, the whole ceremony contained such a

happy blending of the profitable with the flattering, that

it was not difficult for the donor immediately to read the

effect of a generosity so aptly mingled with praise, in the

eyes of those he addressed.



This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of Magua was

not without instantaneous results.  The Delawares lost their

gravity in a much more cordial expression; and the host, in

particular, after contemplating his own liberal share of the

spoil for some moments with peculiar gratification, repeated

with strong emphasis, the words:



"My brother is a wise chief.  He is welcome."



"The Hurons love their friends the Delawares," returned

Magua.  "Why should they not? they are colored by the same

sun, and their just men will hunt in the same grounds after

death.  The red-skins should be friends, and look with open

eyes on the white men.  Has not my brother scented spies in

the woods?"



The Delaware, whose name in English signified "Hard Heart,"

an appellation that the French had translated into "le Coeur-

dur," forgot that obduracy of purpose, which had probably

obtained him so significant a title.  His countenance grew

very sensibly less stern and he now deigned to answer more

directly.



"There have been strange moccasins about my camp.  They have

been tracked into my lodges."



"Did my brother beat out the dogs?" asked Magua, without

adverting in any manner to the former equivocation of the

chief.



"It would not do.  The stranger is always welcome to the

children of the Lenape."



"The stranger, but not the spy."



"Would the Yengeese send their women as spies?  Did not the

Huron chief say he took women in the battle?"



"He told no lie.  The Yengeese have sent out their scouts.

They have been in my wigwams, but they found there no one to

say welcome.  Then they fled to the Delawares--for, say

they, the Delawares are our friends; their minds are turned

from their Canada father!"



This insinuation was a home thrust, and one that in a more

advanced state of society would have entitled Magua to the

reputation of a skillful diplomatist.  The recent defection

of the tribe had, as they well knew themselves, subjected

the Delawares to much reproach among their French allies;

and they were now made to feel that their future actions

were to be regarded with jealousy and distrust.  There was

no deep insight into causes and effects necessary to foresee

that such a situation of things was likely to prove highly

prejudicial to their future movements.  Their distant

villages, their hunting-grounds and hundreds of their women

and children, together with a material part of their

physical force, were actually within the limits of the

French territory.  Accordingly, this alarming annunciation

was received, as Magua intended, with manifest

disapprobation, if not with alarm.



"Let my father look in my face," said Le Coeur-dur; "he will

see no change.  It is true, my young men did not go out on

the war-path; they had dreams for not doing so.  But they

love and venerate the great white chief."



"Will he think so when he hears that his greatest enemy is

fed in the camp of his children?  When he is told a bloody

Yengee smokes at your fire?  That the pale face who has

slain so many of his friends goes in and out among the

Delawares?  Go! my great Canada father is not a fool!"



"Where is the Yengee that the Delawares fear?" returned the

other; "who has slain my young men?  Who is the mortal enemy

of my Great Father?"



"La Longue Carabine!"



The Delaware warriors started at the well-known name,

betraying by their amazement, that they now learned, for the

first time, one so famous among the Indian allies of France

was within their power.



"What does my brother mean?" demanded Le Coeur-dur, in a

tone that, by its wonder, far exceeded the usual apathy of

his race.



"A Huron never lies!" returned Magua, coldly, leaning his

head against the side of the lodge, and drawing his slight

robe across his tawny breast.  "Let the Delawares count

their prisoners; they will find one whose skin is neither

red nor pale."



A long and musing pause succeeded.  The chief consulted

apart with his companions, and messengers despatched to

collect certain others of the most distinguished men of the

tribe.



As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made

acquainted, in turn, with the important intelligence that

Magua had just communicated.  The air of surprise, and the

usual low, deep, guttural exclamation, were common to them

all.  The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole

encampment became powerfully agitated.  The women suspended

their labors, to catch such syllables as unguardedly fell

from the lips of the consulting warriors.  The boys deserted

their sports, and walking fearlessly among their fathers,

looked up in curious admiration, as they heard the brief

exclamations of wonder they so freely expressed the temerity

of their hated foe.  In short, every occupation was

abandoned for the time, and all other pursuits seemed

discarded in order that the tribe might freely indulge,

after their own peculiar manner, in an open expression of

feeling.



When the excitement had a little abated, the old men

disposed themselves seriously to consider that which it

became the honor and safety of their tribe to perform, under

circumstances of so much delicacy and embarrassment.  During

all these movements, and in the midst of the general

commotion, Magua had not only maintained his seat, but the

very attitude he had originally taken, against the side of

the lodge, where he continued as immovable, and, apparently,

as unconcerned, as if he had no interest in the result.  Not

a single indication of the future intentions of his hosts,

however, escaped his vigilant eyes.  With his consummate

knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to

deal, he anticipated every measure on which they decided;

and it might almost be said, that, in many instances, he

knew their intentions, even before they became known to

themselves.



The council of the Delawares was short.  When it was ended,

a general bustle announced that it was to be immediately

succeeded by a solemn and formal assemblage of the nation.

As such meetings were rare, and only called on occasions of

the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still sat apart,

a wily and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that

all his projects must be brought to their final issue.  He,

therefore, left the lodge and walked silently forth to the

place, in front of the encampment, whither the warriors were

already beginning to collect.



It might have been half an hour before each individual,

including even the women and children, was in his place.

The delay had been created by the grave preparations that

were deemed necessary to so solemn and unusual a conference.

But when the sun was seen climbing above the tops of that

mountain, against whose bosom the Delawares had constructed

their encampment, most were seated; and as his bright rays

darted from behind the outline of trees that fringed the

eminence, they fell upon as grave, as attentive, and as

deeply interested a multitude, as was probably ever before

lighted by his morning beams.  Its number somewhat exceeded


a thousand souls.



In a collection of so serious savages, there is never to be

found any impatient aspirant after premature distinction,

standing ready to move his auditors to some hasty, and,

perhaps, injudicious discussion, in order that his own

reputation may be the gainer.  An act of so much

precipitancy and presumption would seal the downfall of

precocious intellect forever.  It rested solely with the

oldest and most experienced of the men to lay the subject of

the conference before the people.  Until such a one chose to

make some movement, no deeds in arms, no natural gifts, nor

any renown as an orator, would have justified the slightest

interruption.  On the present occasion, the aged warrior

whose privilege it was to speak, was silent, seemingly

oppressed with the magnitude of his subject.  The delay had

already continued long beyond the usual deliberative pause

that always preceded a conference; but no sign of impatience

or surprise escaped even the youngest boy.  Occasionally an

eye was raised from the earth, where the looks of most were

riveted, and strayed toward a particular lodge, that was,

however, in no manner distinguished from those around it,

except in the peculiar care that had been taken to protect

it against the assaults of the weather.



At length one of those low murmurs, that are so apt to

disturb a multitude, was heard, and the whole nation arose

to their feet by a common impulse.  At that instant the door

of the lodge in question opened, and three men, issuing from

it, slowly approached the place of consultation.  They were

all aged, even beyond that period to which the oldest

present had reached; but one in the center, who leaned on

his companions for support, had numbered an amount of years

to which the human race is seldom permitted to attain.  His

frame, which had once been tall and erect, like the cedar,

was now bending under the pressure of more than a century.

The elastic, light step of an Indian was gone, and in its

place he was compelled to toil his tardy way over the

ground, inch by inch.  His dark, wrinkled countenance was in

singular and wild contrast with the long white locks which

floated on his shoulders, in such thickness, as to announce

that generations had probably passed away since they had

last been shorn.



The dress of this patriarch--for such, considering his

vast age, in conjunction with his affinity and influence

with his people, he might very properly be termed--was

rich and imposing, though strictly after the simple fashions

of the tribe.  His robe was of the finest skins, which had

been deprived of their fur, in order to admit of a

hieroglyphical representation of various deeds in arms, done

in former ages.  His bosom was loaded with medals, some in

massive silver, and one or two even in gold, the gifts of

various Christian potentates during the long period of his

life.  He also wore armlets, and cinctures above the ankles,

of the latter precious metal.  His head, on the whole of

which the hair had been permitted to grow, the pursuits of

war having so long been abandoned, was encircled by a sort

of plated diadem, which, in its turn, bore lesser and more

glittering ornaments, that sparkled amid the glossy hues of

three drooping ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black, in

touching contrast to the color of his snow-white locks.  His

tomahawk was nearly hid in silver, and the handle of his

knife shone like a horn of solid gold.



So soon as the first hum of emotion and pleasure, which the

sudden appearance of this venerated individual created, had

a little subsided, the name of "Tamenund" was whispered from

mouth to mouth.  Magua had often heard the fame of this wise

and just Delaware; a reputation that even proceeded so far

as to bestow on him the rare gift of holding secret

communion with the Great Spirit, and which has since

transmitted his name, with some slight alteration, to the

white usurpers of his ancient territory, as the imaginary

tutelar saint* of a vast empire.  The Huron chief,

therefore, stepped eagerly out a little from the throng, to

a spot whence he might catch a nearer glimpse of the

features of the man, whose decision was likely to produce so

deep an influence on his own fortunes.



* The Americans sometimes called their tutelar saint

Tamenay, a corruption of the name of the renowned chief here

introduced.  There are many traditions which speak of the

character and power of Tamenund.



The eyes of the old man were closed, as though the organs

were wearied with having so long witnessed the selfish

workings of the human passions.  The color of his skin

differed from that of most around him, being richer and

darker, the latter having been produced by certain delicate

and mazy lines of complicated and yet beautiful figures,

which had been traced over most of his person by the

operation of tattooing.  Notwithstanding the position of the

Huron, he passed the observant and silent Magua without

notice, and leaning on his two venerable supporters

proceeded to the high place of the multitude, where he

seated himself in the center of his nation, with the dignity

of a monarch and the air of a father.



Nothing could surpass the reverence and affection with which

this unexpected visit from one who belongs rather to another

world than to this, was received by his people.  After a

suitable and decent pause, the principal chiefs arose, and,

approaching the patriarch, they placed his hands reverently

on their heads, seeming to entreat a blessing.  The younger

men were content with touching his robe, or even drawing

nigh his person, in order to breathe in the atmosphere of

one so aged, so just, and so valiant.  None but the most

distinguished among the youthful warriors even presumed to

far as to perform the latter ceremony, the great mass of the

multitude deeming it a sufficient happiness to look upon a

form so deeply venerated, and so well beloved.  When these

acts of affection and respect were performed, the chiefs

drew back again to their several places, and silence reigned

in the whole encampment.



After a short delay, a few of the young men, to whom

instructions had been whispered by one of the aged

attendants of Tamenund, arose, left the crowd, and entered

the lodge which has already been noted as the object of so

much attention throughout that morning.  In a few minutes

they reappeared, escorting the individuals who had caused

all these solemn preparations toward the seat of judgment.

The crowd opened in a lane; and when the party had re-

entered, it closed in again, forming a large and dense belt

of human bodies, arranged in an open circle.







CHAPTER 29



"The assembly seated, rising o'er the rest, Achilles thus

the king of men addressed."--Pope's Illiad



Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms

in those of Alice, in the tenderness of sisterly love.

Notwithstanding the fearful and menacing array of savages on

every side of her, no apprehension on her own account could

prevent the nobler-minded maiden from keeping her eyes

fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling

Alice.  Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest

in both, that, at such a moment of intense uncertainty,

scarcely knew a preponderance in favor of her whom he most

loved.  Hawkeye had placed himself a little in the rear,

with a deference to the superior rank of his companions,

that no similarity in the state of their present fortunes

could induce him to forget.  Uncas was not there.



When perfect silence was again restored, and after the usual

long, impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs who sat

at the side of the patriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in

very intelligible English:



"Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine?"



Neither Duncan nor the scout answered.  The former, however,

glanced his eyes around the dark and silent assembly, and

recoiled a pace, when they fell on the malignant visage of

Magua.  He saw, at once, that this wily savage had some

secret agency in their present arraignment before the

nation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in

the way of the execution of his sinister plans.  He had

witnessed one instance of the summary punishments of the

Indians, and now dreaded that his companion was to be

selected for a second.  In this dilemma, with little or no

time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak his

invaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself.

Before he had time, however, to speak, the question was

repeated in a louder voice, and with a clearer utterance.



"Give us arms," the young man haughtily replied, "and place

us in yonder woods.  Our deeds shall speak for us!"



"This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!"

returned the chief, regarding Heyward with that sort of

curious interest which seems inseparable from man, when

first beholding one of his fellows to whom merit or

accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety.  "What has

brought the white man into the camp of the Delawares?"



"My necessities.  I come for food, shelter, and friends."



"It cannot be.  The woods are full of game.  The head of a

warrior needs no other shelter than a sky without clouds;

and the Delawares are the enemies, and not the friends of

the Yengeese.  Go, the mouth has spoken, while the heart

said nothing."



Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed,

remained silent; but the scout, who had listened attentively

to all that passed, now advanced steadily to the front.



"That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Carabine,

was not owing either to shame or fear," he said, "for

neither one nor the other is the gift of an honest man.  But

I do not admit the right of the Mingoes to bestow a name on

one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, in this

particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'killdeer'

being a grooved barrel and no carabyne.  I am the man,

however, that got the name of Nathaniel from my kin; the

compliment of Hawkeye from the Delawares, who live on their

own river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed to style the

'Long Rifle', without any warranty from him who is most

concerned in the matter."



The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been gravely

scanning the person of Duncan, were now turned, on the

instant, toward the upright iron frame of this new pretender

to the distinguished appellation.  It was in no degree

remarkable that there should be found two who were willing

to claim so great an honor, for impostors, though rare, were

not unknown among the natives; but it was altogether

material to the just and severe intentions of the Delawares,

that there should be no mistake in the matter.  Some of

their old men consulted together in private, and then, as it

would seem, they determined to interrogate their visitor on

the subject.



"My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said

the chief to Magua; "which is he?"



The Huron pointed to the scout.



"Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a wolf?"

exclaimed Duncan, still more confirmed in the evil

intentions of his ancient enemy: " a dog never lies, but

when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"



The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but suddenly recollecting

the necessity of maintaining his presence of mind, he turned

away in silent disdain, well assured that the sagacity of

the Indians would not fail to extract the real merits of the

point in controversy.  He was not deceived; for, after

another short consultation, the wary Delaware turned to him

again, and expressed the determination of the chiefs, though

in the most considerate language.



"My brother has been called a liar," he said, "and his

friends are angry.  They will show that he has spoken the

truth.  Give my prisoners guns, and let them prove which is

the man."



Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he well knew

proceeded from distrust of himself, as a compliment, and

made a gesture of acquiescence, well content that his

veracity should be supported by so skillful a marksman as

the scout.  The weapons were instantly placed in the hands

of the friendly opponents, and they were bid to fire, over

the heads of the seated multitude, at an earthen vessel,

which lay, by accident, on a stump, some fifty yards from

the place where they stood.



Heyward smiled to himself at the idea of a competition with

the scout, though he determined to persevere in the

deception, until apprised of the real designs of Magua.



Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and renewing his aim

three several times, he fired.  The bullet cut the wood

within a few inches of the vessel; and a general exclamation

of satisfaction announced that the shot was considered a

proof of great skill in the use of a weapon.  Even Hawkeye

nodded his head, as if he would say, it was better than he

expected.  But, instead of manifesting an intention to

contend with the successful marksman, he stood leaning on

his rifle for more than a minute, like a man who was

completely buried in thought.  From this reverie, he was,

however, awakened by one of the young Indians who had

furnished the arms, and who now touched his shoulder, saying

in exceedingly broken English:



"Can the pale face beat it?"



"Yes, Huron!" exclaimed the scout, raising the short rifle

in his right hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much

apparent ease as if it were a reed; "yes, Huron, I could

strike you now, and no power on earth could prevent the

deed!  The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove than

I am this moment of you, did I choose to send a bullet to

your heart!  Why should I not?  Why!--because the gifts of

my color forbid it, and I might draw down evil on tender and

innocent heads.  If you know such a being as God, thank Him,

therefore, in your inward soul; for you have reason!"



The flushed countenance, angry eye and swelling figure of

the scout, produced a sensation of secret awe in all that

heard him.  The Delawares held their breath in expectation;

but Magua himself, even while he distrusted the forbearance

of his enemy, remained immovable and calm, where he stood

wedged in by the crowd, as one who grew to the spot.



"Beat it," repeated the young Delaware at the elbow of the

scout.



"Beat what, fool!--what?" exclaimed Hawkeye, still

flourishing the weapon angrily above his head, though his

eye no longer sought the person of Magua.



"If the white man is the warrior he pretends," said the aged

chief, "let him strike nigher to the mark."



The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the

startling effect of an unnatural sound on Heyward; then

dropping the piece, heavily, into his extended left hand, it

was discharged, apparently by the shock, driving the

fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on

every side.  Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound

of the rifle was heard, as he suffered it to fall,

contemptuously, to the earth.



The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing

admiration.  Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through

the multitude, and finally swelled into sounds that denoted

a lively opposition in the sentiments of the spectators.

While some openly testified their satisfaction at so

unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion of the tribe

were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the

result of accident.  Heyward was not slow to confirm an

opinion that was so favorable to his own pretensions.



"It was chance!" he exclaimed; "none can shoot without an

aim!"



"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now

stubbornly bent on maintaining his identity at every hazard,

and on whom the secret hints of Heyward to acquiesce in the

deception were entirely lost.  "Does yonder lying Huron,

too, think it chance?  Give him another gun, and place us

face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence,

and our own eyes, decide the matter atween us!  I do not

make the offer, to you, major; for our blood is of a color,

and we serve the same master."



"That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned

Heyward, coolly; "you have yourself heard him asset you to

be La Longue Carabine."



It were impossible to say what violent assertion the

stubborn Hawkeye would have next made, in his headlong wish

to vindicate his identity, had not the aged Delaware once

more interposed.



"The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he

will," he said; "give them the guns."



This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had

Magua, though he watched the movements of the marksman with

jealous eyes, any further cause for apprehension.



"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of

Delawares, which is the better man," cried the scout,

tapping the butt of his piece with that finger which had

pulled so many fatal triggers.



"You see that gourd hanging against yonder tree, major; if

you are a marksman fit for the borders, let me see you break

its shell!"



Duncan noted the object, and prepared himself to renew the

trial.  The gourd was one of the usual little vessels used

by the Indians, and it was suspended from a dead branch of a

small pine, by a thong of deerskin, at the full distance of

a hundred yards.  So strangely compounded is the feeling of

self-love, that the young soldier, while he knew the utter

worthlessness of the suffrages of his savage umpires, forgot

the sudden motives of the contest in a wish to excel.  It

had been seen, already, that his skill was far from being

contemptible, and he now resolved to put forth its nicest

qualities.  Had his life depended on the issue, the aim of

Duncan could not have been more deliberate or guarded.  He

fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang forward

at the report, announced with a shout, that the ball was in

the tree, a very little on one side of the proper object.

The warriors uttered a common ejaculation of pleasure, and

then turned their eyes, inquiringly, on the movements of his

rival.



"It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing

once more in his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my

gun often turned so much from the true line, many a marten,

whose skin is now in a lady's muff, would still be in the

woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who has departed to his

final account, would be acting his deviltries at this very

day, atween the provinces.  I hope the squaw who owns the

gourd has more of them in her wigwam, for this will never

hold water again!"



The scout had shook his priming, and cocked his piece, while

speaking; and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, and slowly

raised the muzzle from the earth: the motion was steady,

uniform, and in one direction.  When on a perfect level, it

remained for a single moment, without tremor or variation,

as though both man and rifle were carved in stone.  During

that stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a

bright, glancing sheet of flame.  Again the young Indians

bounded forward; but their hurried search and disappointed

looks announced that no traces of the bullet were to be

seen.



"Go!" said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of strong

disgust; "thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog.  I will talk

to the 'Long Rifle' of the Yengeese."



"Ah! had I that piece which furnished the name you use, I

would obligate myself to cut the thong, and drop the gourd

without breaking it!" returned Hawkeye, perfectly

undisturbed by the other's manner.  "Fools, if you would

find the bullet of a sharpshooter in these woods, you must

look in the object, and not around it!"



The Indian youths instantly comprehended his meaning--for

this time he spoke in the Delaware tongue--and tearing the

gourd from the tree, they held it on high with an exulting

shout, displaying a hole in its bottom, which had been but

by the bullet, after passing through the usual orifice in

the center of its upper side.  At this unexpected

exhibition, a loud and vehement expression of pleasure burst

from the mouth of every warrior present.  It decided the

question, and effectually established Hawkeye in the

possession of his dangerous reputation.  Those curious and

admiring eyes which had been turned again on Heyward, were

finally directed to the weather-beaten form of the scout,

who immediately became the principal object of attention to

the simple and unsophisticated beings by whom he was

surrounded.  When the sudden and noisy commotion had a

little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination.



"Why did you wish to stop my ears?" he said, addressing

Duncan; "are the Delawares fools that they could not know

the young panther from the cat?"



"They will yet find the Huron a singing-bird," said Duncan,

endeavoring to adopt the figurative language of the natives.



"It is good.  We will know who can shut the ears of men.

Brother," added the chief turning his eyes on Magua, "the

Delawares listen."



Thus singled, and directly called on to declare his object,

the Huron arose; and advancing with great deliberation and

dignity into the very center of the circle, where he stood

confronted by the prisoners, he placed himself in an

attitude to speak.  Before opening his mouth, however, he

bent his eyes slowly along the whole living boundary of

earnest faces, as if to temper his expressions to the

capacities of his audience.  On Hawkeye he cast a glance of

respectful enmity; on Duncan, a look of inextinguishable

hatred; the shrinking figure of Alice he scarcely deigned to

notice; but when his glance met the firm, commanding, and

yet lovely form of Cora, his eye lingered a moment, with an

expression that it might have been difficult to define.

Then, filled with his own dark intentions, he spoke in the

language of the Canadas, a tongue that he well knew was

comprehended by most of his auditors.



"The Spirit that made men colored them differently,"

commenced the subtle Huron.  "Some are blacker than the

sluggish bear.  These He said should be slaves; and He

ordered them to work forever, like the beaver.  You may hear

them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than the

lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake,

where the big canoes come and go with them in droves.  Some

He made with faces paler than the ermine of the forests; and

these He ordered to be traders; dogs to their women, and

wolves to their slaves.  He gave this people the nature of

the pigeon; wings that never tire; young, more plentiful

than the leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the

earth.  He gave them tongues like the false call of the

wildcat; hearts like rabbits; the cunning of the hog (but

none of the fox), and arms longer than the legs of the

moose.  With his tongue he stops the ears of the Indians;

his heart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles;

his cunning tells him how to get together the goods of the

earth; and his arms inclose the land from the shores of the

salt-water to the islands of the great lake.  His gluttony

makes him sick.  God gave him enough, and yet he wants all.

Such are the pale faces.



"Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder

than yonder sun," continued Magua, pointing impressively

upward to the lurid luminary, which was struggling through

the misty atmosphere of the horizon; "and these did He

fashion to His own mind.  He gave them this island as He had

made it, covered with trees, and filled with game.  The wind

made their clearings; the sun and rain ripened their fruits;

and the snows came to tell them to be thankful.  What need

had they of roads to journey by!  They saw through the

hills!  When the beavers worked, they lay in the shade, and

looked on.  The winds cooled them in summer; in winter,

skins kept them warm.  If they fought among themselves, it

was to prove that they were men.  They were brave; they were

just; they were happy."



Here the speaker paused, and again looked around him to

discover if his legend had touched the sympathies of his

listeners.  He met everywhere, with eyes riveted on his own,

heads erect and nostrils expanded, as if each individual

present felt himself able and willing, singly, to redress

the wrongs of his race.



"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red

children," he continued, in a low, still melancholy voice,

"it was that all animals might understand them.  Some He

placed among the snows, with their cousin, the bear.  Some

he placed near the setting sun, on the road to the happy

hunting grounds.  Some on the lands around the great fresh

waters; but to His greatest, and most beloved, He gave the

sands of the salt lake.  Do my brothers know the name of

this favored people?"



"It was the Lenape!" exclaimed twenty eager voices in a

breath.



"It was the Lenni Lenape," returned Magua, affecting to bend

his head in reverence to their former greatness.  "It was

the tribes of the Lenape!  The sun rose from water that was

salt, and set in water that was sweet, and never hid himself

from their eyes.  But why should I, a Huron of the woods,

tell a wise people their own traditions?  Why remind them of

their injuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their

glory; their happiness; their losses; their defeats; their

misery?  Is there not one among them who has seen it all,

and who knows it to be true?  I have done.  My tongue is

still for my heart is of lead.  I listen."



As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and

all eyes turned, by a common movement, toward the venerable

Tamenund.  From the moment that he took his seat, until the

present instant, the lips of the patriarch had not severed,

and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him.  He sat bent in

feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence he

was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the

skill of the scout had been so clearly established.  At the

nicely graduated sound of Magua's voice, however, he

betrayed some evidence of consciousness, and once or twice

he even raised his head, as if to listen.  But when the

crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the

old man raised themselves, and he looked out upon the

multitude with that sort of dull, unmeaning expression which

might be supposed to belong to the countenance of a specter.

Then he made an effort to rise, and being upheld by his

supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by

its dignity, while he tottered with weakness.



"Who calls upon the children of the Lenape?" he said, in a

deep, guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by

the breathless silence of the multitude; "who speaks of

things gone?  Does not the egg become a worm--the worm a

fly, and perish?  Why tell the Delawares of good that is

past?  Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."



"It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude

platform on which the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."



"A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown

settled, imparting a portion of that severity which had

rendered his eye so terrible in middle age.  "Are the

Mingoes rulers of the earth?  What brings a Huron in here?"



"Justice.  His prisoners are with his brothers, and he comes

for his own."



Tamenund turned his head toward one of his supporters, and

listened to the short explanation the man gave.



Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a moment with

deep attention; after which he said, in a low and reluctant

voice:



"Justice is the law of the great Manitou.  My children, give

the stranger food.  Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."



On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patriarch

seated himself, and closed his eyes again, as if better

pleased with the images of his own ripened experience than

with the visible objects of the world.  Against such a

decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy to murmur,

much less oppose himself.  The words were barely uttered

when four or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind

Heyward and the scout, passed thongs so dexterously and

rapidly around their arms, as to hold them both in instant

bondage.  The former was too much engrossed with his

precious and nearly insensible burden, to be aware of their

intentions before they were executed; and the latter, who

considered even the hostile tribes of the Delawares a

superior race of beings, submitted without resistance.

Perhaps, however, the manner of the scout would not have

been so passive, had he fully comprehended the language in

which the preceding dialogue had been conducted.



Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly

before he proceeded to the execution of his purpose.

Perceiving that the men were unable to offer any resistance,

he turned his looks on her he valued most.  Cora met his

gaze with an eye so calm and firm, that his resolution

wavered.  Then, recollecting his former artifice, he raised

Alice from the arms of the warrior against whom she leaned,

and beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the

encircling crowd to open.  But Cora, instead of obeying the

impulse he had expected, rushed to the feet of the

patriarch, and, raising her voice, exclaimed aloud:



"Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and power we

lean for mercy!  Be deaf to yonder artful and remorseless

monster, who poisons thy ears with falsehoods to feed his

thirst for blood.  Thou that hast lived long, and that hast

seen the evil of the world, should know how to temper its

calamities to the miserable."



The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once more

looked upward at the multitude.  As the piercing tones of

the suppliant swelled on his ears, they moved slowly in the

direction of her person, and finally settled there in a

steady gaze.  Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with

hands clenched in each other and pressed upon her bosom, she

remained like a beauteous and breathing model of her sex,

looking up in his faded but majestic countenance, with a

species of holy reverence.  Gradually the expression of

Tamenund's features changed, and losing their vacancy in

admiration, they lighted with a portion of that intelligence

which a century before had been wont to communicate his

youthful fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares.

Rising without assistance, and seemingly without an effort,

he demanded, in a voice that startled its auditors by its

firmness:



"What art thou?"



"A woman.  One of a hated race, it thou wilt--a Yengee.

But one who has never harmed thee, and who cannot harm thy

people, if she would; who asks for succor."



"Tell me, my children," continued the patriarch, hoarsely,

motioning to those around him, though his eyes still dwelt

upon the kneeling form of Cora, "where have the Delawares

camped?"



"In the mountains of the Iroquois, beyond the clear springs

of the Horican."



"Many parching summers are come and gone," continued the

sage, "since I drank of the water of my own rivers.  The

children of Minquon* are the justest white men, but they

were thirsty and they took it to themselves.  Do they follow

us so far?"



* William Penn was termed Minquon by the Delawares,

and, as he never used violence or injustice in his dealings

with them, his reputation for probity passed into a proverb.

The American is justly proud of the origin of his nation,

which is perhaps unequaled in the history of the world; but

the Pennsylvanian and Jerseyman have more reason to value

themselves in their ancestors than the natives of any other

state, since no wrong was done the original owners of the

soil.



"We follow none, we covet nothing," answered Cora.

"Captives against our wills, have we been brought amongst

you; and we ask but permission to depart to our own in

peace.  Art thou not Tamenund--the father, the judge, I

had almost said, the prophet--of this people?"



"I am Tamenund of many days."



"'Tis now some seven years that one of thy people was at the

mercy of a white chief on the borders of this province.  He

claimed to be of the blood of the good and just Tamenund.

'Go', said the white man, 'for thy parent's sake thou art

free' Dost thou remember the name of that English warrior?"



"I remember, that when a laughing boy," returned the

patriarch, with the peculiar recollection of vast age, "I

stood upon the sands of the sea shore, and saw a big canoe,

with wings whiter than the swan's, and wider than many

eagles, come from the rising sun."



"Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant, but of

favor shown to thy kindred by one of mine, within the memory

of thy youngest warrior."



"Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchmanne fought for the

hunting-grounds of the Delawares?  Then Tamenund was a

chief, and first laid aside the bow for the lightning of the

pale faces--"



"Not yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of

a thing of yesterday.  Surely, surely, you forget it not."



"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching

pathos, "that the children of the Lenape were masters of the

world.  The fishes of the salt lake, the birds, the beasts,

and the Mengee of the woods, owned them for Sagamores."



Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter

moment struggled with her chagrin.  Then, elevating her rich

features and beaming eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely

less penetrating than the unearthly voice of the patriarch

himself:



"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"



The old man looked down upon her from his elevated stand,

with a benignant smile on his wasted countenance, and then

casting his eyes slowly over the whole assemblage, he

answered:



"Of a nation."



"For myself I ask nothing.  Like thee and thine, venerable

chief," she continued, pressing her hands convulsively on

her heart, and suffering her head to droop until her burning

cheeks were nearly concealed in the maze of dark, glossy

tresses that fell in disorder upon her shoulders, "the curse

of my ancestors has fallen heavily on their child.  But

yonder is one who has never known the weight of Heaven's

displeasure until now.  She is the daughter of an old and

failing man, whose days are near their close.  She has many,

very many, to love her, and delight in her; and she is too

good, much too precious, to become the victim of that

villain."



"I know that the pale faces are a proud and hungry race.  I

know that they claim not only to have the earth, but that

the meanest of their color is better than the Sachems of the

red man.  The dogs and crows of their tribes," continued the

earnest old chieftain, without heeding the wounded spirit of

his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to the earth in

shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they

would take a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of

the color of snow.  But let them not boast before the face

of the Manitou too loud.  They entered the land at the

rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun.  I have often

seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the

season of blossoms has always come again."



"It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving

from a trance, raising her face, and shaking back her

shining veil, with a kindling eye, that contradicted the

death-like paleness of her countenance; "but why--it is

not permitted us to inquire.  There is yet one of thine own

people who has not been brought before thee; before thou

lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."



Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his

companions said:



"It is a snake--a red-skin in the pay of the Yengeese.  We

keep him for the torture."



"Let him come," returned the sage.



Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so

deep prevailed while the young man prepared to obey his

simple mandate, that the leaves, which fluttered in the

draught of the light morning air, were distinctly heard

rustling in the surrounding forest.







CHAPTER 30



"If you deny me, fie upon your law!  There is no force in

the decrees of Venice: I stand for judgment: answer, shall I

have it?"--Merchant of Venice



The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many

anxious minutes.  Then the waving multitude opened and shut

again, and Uncas stood in the living circle.  All those

eyes, which had been curiously studying the lineaments of

the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turned on

the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the

erect, agile, and faultless person of the captive.  But

neither the presence in which he found himself, nor the

exclusive attention that he attracted, in any manner

disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican.  He cast

a deliberate and observing look on every side of him,

meeting the settled expression of hostility that lowered in

the visages of the chiefs with the same calmness as the

curious gaze of the attentive children.  But when, last in

this haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund came under his

glance, his eye became fixed, as though all other objects

were already forgotten.  Then, advancing with a slow and

noiseless step up the area, he placed himself immediately

before the footstool of the sage.  Here he stood unnoted,

though keenly observant himself, until one of the chiefs

apprised the latter of his presence.



"With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?"

demanded the patriarch, without unclosing his eyes.



"Like his fathers," Uncas replied; "with the tongue of a

Delaware."



At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, fierce

yell ran through the multitude, that might not inaptly be

compared to the growl of the lion, as his choler is first

awakened--a fearful omen of the weight of his future

anger.  The effect was equally strong on the sage, though

differently exhibited.  He passed a hand before his eyes, as

if to exclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle,

while he repeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he

had just heard.



"A Delaware!  I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape

driven from their council-fires, and scattered, like broken

herds of deer, among the hills of the Iroquois!  I have seen

the hatchets of a strong people sweep woods from the

valleys, that the winds of heaven have spared!  The beasts

that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above the

trees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never

before have I found a Delaware so base as to creep, like a

poisonous serpent, into the camps of his nation."



"The singing-birds have opened their bills," returned Uncas,

in the softest notes of his own musical voice; "and Tamenund

has heard their song."



The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch

the fleeting sounds of some passing melody.



"Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed.  "What voice is at his

ear!  Have the winters gone backward!  Will summer come

again to the children of the Lenape!"



A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this incoherent

burst from the lips of the Delaware prophet.  His people

readily constructed his unintelligible language into one of

those mysterious conferences he was believed to hold so

frequently with a superior intelligence and they awaited the

issue of the revelation in awe.  After a patient pause,

however, one of the aged men, perceiving that the sage had

lost the recollection of the subject before them, ventured

to remind him again of the presence of the prisoner.



"The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words

of Tamenund," he said.  "'Tis a hound that howls, when the

Yengeese show him a trail."



"And ye," returned Uncas, looking sternly around him, "are

dogs that whine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of

his deer!"



Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many warriors

sprang to their feet, at this biting, and perhaps merited

retort; but a motion from one of the chiefs suppressed the

outbreaking of their tempers, and restored the appearance of

quiet.  The task might probably have been more difficult,

had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he was

again about to speak.



"Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy

name.  My people have not seen a bright sun in many winters;

and the warrior who deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is

doubly a traitor.  The law of the Manitou is just.  It is

so; while the rivers run and the mountains stand, while the

blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so.  He is

thine, my children; deal justly by him."



Not a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder and

longer than common, until the closing syllable of this final

decree had passed the lips of Tamenund.  Then a cry of

vengeance burst at once, as it might be, from the united

lips of the nation; a frightful augury of their ruthless

intentions.  In the midst of these prolonged and savage

yells, a chief proclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive

was condemned to endure the dreadful trial of torture by

fire.  The circle broke its order, and screams of delight

mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation.  Heyward

struggled madly with his captors; the anxious eye of Hawkeye

began to look around him, with an expression of peculiar

earnestness; and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the

patriarch, once more a suppliant for mercy.



Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas had

alone preserved his serenity.  He looked on the preparations

with a steady eye, and when the tormentors came to seize

him, he met them with a firm and upright attitude.  One

among them, if possible more fierce and savage than his

fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the young warrior, and

at a single effort tore it from his body.  Then, with a yell

of frantic pleasure, he leaped toward his unresisting victim

and prepared to lead him to the stake.  But, at that moment,

when he appeared most a stranger to the feelings of

humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenly

as if a supernatural agency had interposed in the behalf of

Uncas.  The eyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from

their sockets; his mouth opened and his whole form became

frozen in an attitude of amazement.  Raising his hand with a

slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a finger to the

bosom of the captive.  His companions crowded about him in

wonder and every eye was like his own, fastened intently on

the figure of a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the

breast of the prisoner, in a bright blue tint.



For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling

calmly on the scene.  Then motioning the crowd away with a

high and haughty sweep of his arm, he advanced in front of

the nation with the air of a king, and spoke in a voice

louder than the murmur of admiration that ran through the

multitude.



"Men of the Lenni Lenape!" he said, "my race upholds the

earth!  Your feeble tribe stands on my shell!  What fire

that a Delaware can light would burn the child of my

fathers," he added, pointing proudly to the simple blazonry

on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stock would

smother your flames!  My race is the grandfather of

nations!"



"Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling

tones he heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the

language of the prisoner.



"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive

modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his head in

reverence to the other's character and years; "a son of the

great Unamis."*



* Turtle.



"The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day

is come, at last, to the night!  I thank the Manitou, that

one is here to fill my place at the council-fire.  Uncas,

the child of Uncas, is found!  Let the eyes of a dying eagle

gaze on the rising sun."



The youth stepped lightly, but proudly on the platform,

where he became visible to the whole agitated and wondering

multitude.  Tamenund held him long at the length of his arm

and read every turn in the fine lineaments of his

countenance, with the untiring gaze of one who recalled days

of happiness.



"Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered prophet

exclaimed.  "Have I dreamed of so many snows--that my

people were scattered like floating sands--of Yengeese,

more plenty than the leaves on the trees!  The arrow of

Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm if withered

like the branch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in

the race; yet is Uncas before him as they went to battle

against the pale faces!  Uncas, the panther of his tribe,

the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisest Sagamore of the

Mohicans!  Tell me, ye Delawares has Tamenund been a sleeper

for a hundred winters?"



The calm and deep silence which succeeded these words

sufficiently announced the awful reverence with which his

people received the communication of the patriarch.  None

dared to answer, though all listened in breathless

expectation of what might follow.  Uncas, however, looking

in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored

child, presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to

reply.



"Four warriors of his race have lived and died," he said,

"since the friend of Tamenund led his people in battle.  The

blood of the turtle has been in many chiefs, but all have

gone back into the earth from whence they came, except

Chingachgook and his son."



"It is true--it is true," returned the sage, a flash of

recollection destroying all his pleasing fancies, and

restoring him at once to a consciousness of the true history

of his nation.  "Our wise men have often said that two

warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills of the

Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the

Delawares been so long empty?"



At these words the young man raised his head, which he had

still kept bowed a little, in reverence; and lifting his

voice so as to be heard by the multitude, as if to explain

at once and forever the policy of his family, he said aloud:



"Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in

its anger.  Then we were rulers and Sagamores over the land.

But when a pale face was seen on every brook, we followed

the deer back to the river of our nation.  The Delawares

were gone.  Few warriors of them all stayed to drink of the

stream they loved.  Then said my fathers, 'Here will we

hunt.  The waters of the river go into the salt lake.  If we

go toward the setting sun, we shall find streams that run

into the great lakes of sweet water; there would a Mohican

die, like fishes of the sea, in the clear springs.  When the

Manitou is ready and shall say "Come," we will follow the

river to the sea, and take our own again' Such, Delawares,

is the belief of the children of the Turtle.  Our eyes are

on the rising and not toward the setting sun.  We know

whence he comes, but we know not whither he goes.  It is

enough."



The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all the

respect that superstition could lend, finding a secret charm

even in the figurative language with which the young

Sagamore imparted his ideas.  Uncas himself watched the

effect of his brief explanation with intelligent eyes, and

gradually dropped the air of authority he had assumed, as he

perceived that his auditors were content.  Then, permitting

his looks to wander over the silent throng that crowded

around the elevated seat of Tamenund, he first perceived

Hawkeye in his bonds.  Stepping eagerly from his stand, he

made way for himself to the side of his friend; and cutting

his thongs with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife,

he motioned to the crowd to divide.  The Indians silently

obeyed, and once more they stood ranged in their circle, as

before his appearance among them.  Uncas took the scout by

the hand, and led him to the feet of the patriarch.



"Father," he said, "look at this pale face; a just man, and

the friend of the Delawares."



"Is he a son of Minquon?"



"Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the

Maquas."



"What name has he gained by his deeds?"



"We call him Hawkeye," Uncas replied, using the Delaware

phrase; "for his sight never fails.  The Mingoes know him

better by the death he gives their warriors; with them he is

'The Long Rifle'."



"La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes,

and regarding the scout sternly.  "My son has not done well

to call him friend."



"I call him so who proves himself such," returned the young

chief, with great calmness, but with a steady mien.  "If

Uncas is welcome among the Delawares, then is Hawkeye with

his friends."



"The pale face has slain my young men; his name is great for

the blows he has struck the Lenape."



"If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the

Delaware, he has only shown that he is a singing-bird," said

the scout, who now believed that it was time to vindicate

himself from such offensive charges, and who spoke as the

man he addressed, modifying his Indian figures, however,

with his own peculiar notions.  "That I have slain the

Maquas I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-

fires; but that, knowingly, my hand has never harmed a

Delaware, is opposed to the reason of my gifts, which is

friendly to them, and all that belongs to their nation."



A low exclamation of applause passed among the warriors who

exchanged looks with each other like men that first began to

perceive their error.



"Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund.  "Has he stopped my

ears?"



Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which Uncas had

triumphed may be much better imagined than described,

answered to the call by stepping boldly in front of the

patriarch.



"The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron

has lent."



"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding

the dark countenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the

more ingenuous features of Uncas, "has the stranger a

conqueror's right over you?"



"He has none.  The panther may get into snares set by the

women; but he is strong, and knows how to leap through

them."



"La Longue Carabine?"



"Laughs at the Mingoes.  Go, Huron, ask your squaws the

color of a bear."



"The stranger and white maiden that come into my camp

together?"



"Should journey on an open path."



"And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"



Uncas made no reply.



"And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp?"

repeated Tamenund, gravely.



"She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at

Uncas.  "Mohican, you know that she is mine."



"My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the

expression of the face that the youth turned from him in

sorrow.



"It is so," was the low answer.



A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was

very apparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted

the justice of the Mingo's claim.  At length the sage, on

whom alone the decision depended, said, in a firm voice:



"Huron, depart."



"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily Magua, "or

with hands filled with the faith of the Delawares?  The

wigwam of Le Renard Subtil is empty.  Make him strong with

his own."



The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then,

bending his head toward one of his venerable companions, he

asked:



"Are my ears open?"



"It is true."



"Is this Mingo a chief?"



"The first in his nation."



"Girl, what wouldst thou?  A great warrior takes thee to

wife.  Go! thy race will not end."



"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the horror-

struck Cora, "than meet with such a degradation!"



"Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers.  An

unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam."



"She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua,

regarding his victim with a look of bitter irony.



"She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a bright

look.  Let Tamenund speak the words."



"Take you the wampum, and our love."



"Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."



"Then depart with thine own.  The Great Manitou forbids that

a Delaware should be unjust."



Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm;

the Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if

conscious that remonstrance would be useless, prepared to

submit to her fate without resistance.



"Hold, hold!" cried Duncan, springing forward; "Huron, have

mercy! her ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy

people were ever yet known to be."



"Magua is a red-skin; he wants not the beads of the pale

faces."



"Gold, silver, powder, lead--all that a warrior needs

shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest

chief."



"Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking

the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has

his revenge!"



"Mighty ruler of Providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping

his hands together in agony, "can this be suffered!  To you,

just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy."



"The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage,

closing his eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike

wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion.  "Men speak

not twice."



"That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what

has once been spoken is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye,

motioning to Duncan to be silent; "but it is also prudent in

every warrior to consider well before he strikes his

tomahawk into the head of his prisoner.  Huron, I love you

not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much

favor at my hands.  It is fair to conclude that, if this war

does not soon end, many more of your warriors will meet me

in the woods.  Put it to your judgment, then, whether you

would prefer taking such a prisoner as that into your

encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would

greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."



"Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?"

demanded Magua, hesitatingly; for he had already made a

motion toward quitting the place with his victim.



"No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye,

drawing back with suitable discretion, when he noted the

eagerness with which Magua listened to his proposal.  "It

would be an unequal exchange, to give a warrior, in the

prime of his age and usefulness, for the best woman on the

frontiers.  I might consent to go into winter quarters, now

--at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn--on

condition you will release the maiden."



Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the

crowd to open.



"Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man

who had not half made up his mind; "I will throw 'killdeer'

into the bargain.  Take the word of an experienced hunter,

the piece has not its equal atween the provinces."



Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to

disperse the crowd.



"Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness

exactly in proportion as the other manifested an

indifference to the exchange, "if I should condition to

teach your young men the real virtue of the we'pon, it would

smoothe the little differences in our judgments."



Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered

in an impenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen

to the amicable proposal, to open his path, threatening, by

the glance of his eye, another appeal to the infallible

justice of their "prophet."



"What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued

Hawkeye, turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas.  "The

varlet knows his advantage and will keep it!  God bless you,

boy; you have found friends among your natural kin, and I

hope they will prove as true as some you have met who had no

Indian cross.  As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it

is, therefore, fortunate there are but few to make my death-

howl.  After all, it is likely the imps would have managed

to master my scalp, so a day or two will make no great

difference in the everlasting reckoning of time.  God bless

you," added the rugged woodsman, bending his head aside, and

then instantly changing its direction again, with a wistful

look toward the youth; "I loved both you and your father,

Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a color, and

our gifts are somewhat difficult.  Tell the Sagamore I never

lost sight of him in my greatest trouble; and, as for you,

think of me sometimes when on a lucky trail, and depend on

it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, there is a path

in the other world by which honest men may come together

again.  You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take

it, and keep it for my sake; and, harkee, lad, as your

natural gifts don't deny you the use of vengeance, use it a

little freely on the Mingoes; it may unburden griefs at my

loss, and ease your mind.  Huron, I accept your offer;

release the woman.  I am your prisoner!"



A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation ran

through the crowd at this generous proposition; even the

fiercest among the Delaware warriors manifesting pleasure at

the manliness of the intended sacrifice.  Magua paused, and

for an anxious moment, it might be said, he doubted; then,

casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which

ferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose

became fixed forever.



He intimated his contempt of the offer with a backward

motion of his head, and said, in a steady and settled voice:



"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind.

Come," he added, laying his hand too familiarly on the

shoulder of his captive to urge her onward; "a Huron is no

tattler; we will go."



The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and her dark

eye kindled, while the rich blood shot, like the passing

brightness of the sun, into her very temples, at the

indignity.



"I am your prisoner, and, at a fitting time shall be ready

to follow, even to my death.  But violence is unnecessary,"

she coldly said; and immediately turning to Hawkeye, added:

"Generous hunter! from my soul I thank you.  Your offer is

vain, neither could it be accepted; but still you may serve

me, even more than in your own noble intention.  Look at

that drooping humbled child!  Abandon her not until you

leave her in the habitations of civilized men.  I will not

say," wringing the hard hand of the scout, "that her father

will reward you--for such as you are above the rewards of

men--but he will thank you and bless you.  And, believe

me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the

sight of Heaven.  Would to God I could hear one word from

his lips at this awful moment!"  Her voice became choked,

and, for an instant, she was silent; then, advancing a step

nigher to Duncan, who was supporting her unconscious sister,

she continued, in more subdued tones, but in which feeling

and the habits of her sex maintained a fearful struggle: "I

need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess.

You love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults,

though she had them.  She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as

mortal may be.  There is not a blemish in mind or person at

which the proudest of you all would sicken.  She is fair--

oh! how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, but

less brilliant, hand in melancholy affection on the

alabaster forehead of Alice, and parting the golden hair

which clustered about her brows; "and yet her soul is pure

and spotless as her skin!  I could say much--more,

perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare

you and myself--" Her voice became inaudible, and her face

was bent over the form of her sister.  After a long and

burning kiss, she arose, and with features of the hue of

death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she

turned away, and added, to the savage, with all her former

elevation of manner: "Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I

will follow."



"Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an

Indian girl; "go, Magua, go.  these Delawares have their

laws, which forbid them to detain you; but I--I have no

such obligation.  Go, malignant monster--why do you

delay?"



It would be difficult to describe the expression with which

Magua listened to this threat to follow.  There was at first

a fierce and manifest display of joy, and then it was

instantly subdued in a look of cunning coldness.



"The words are open," he was content with answering, "'The

Open Hand' can come."



"Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, and

detaining him by violence; "you know not the craft of the

imp.  He would lead you to an ambushment, and your death--

"



"Huron," interrupted Uncas, who submissive to the stern

customs of his people, had been an attentive and grave

listener to all that passed; "Huron, the justice of the

Delawares comes from the Manitou.  Look at the sun.  He is

now in the upper branches of the hemlock.  Your path is

short and open.  When he is seen above the trees, there will

be men on your trail."



"I hear a crow!" exclaimed Magua, with a taunting laugh.

"Go!" he added, shaking his hand at the crowd, which had

slowly opened to admit his passage.  "Where are the

petticoats of the Delawares!  Let them send their arrows and

their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison to eat,

and corn to hoe.  Dogs, rabbits, thieves--I spit on you!"



His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding

silence, and, with these biting words in his mouth, the

triumphant Magua passed unmolested into the forest, followed

by his passive captive, and protected by the inviolable laws

of Indian hospitality.







CHAPTER 31



"Flue.--Kill the poys and the luggage!  'Tis expressly

against the law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery,

mark you now, as can be offered in the 'orld."--King

Henry V



So long as their enemy and his victim continued in sight,

the multitude remained motionless as beings charmed to the

place by some power that was friendly to the Huron; but, the

instant he disappeared, it became tossed and agitated by

fierce and powerful passion.  Uncas maintained his elevated

stand, keeping his eyes on the form of Cora, until the

colors of her dress were blended with the foliage of the

forest; when he descended, and, moving silently through the

throng, he disappeared in that lodge from which he had so

recently issued.  A few of the graver and more attentive

warriors, who caught the gleams of anger that shot from the

eyes of the young chief in passing, followed him to the

place he had selected for his meditations.  After which,

Tamenund and Alice were removed, and the women and children

were ordered to disperse.  During the momentous hour that

succeeded, the encampment resembled a hive of troubled bees,

who only awaited the appearance and example of their leader

to take some distant and momentous flight.



A young warrior at length issued from the lodge of Uncas;

and, moving deliberately, with a sort of grave march, toward

a dwarf pine that grew in the crevices of the rocky terrace,

he tore the bark from its body, and then turned whence he

came without speaking.  He was soon followed by another, who

stripped the sapling of its branches, leaving it a naked and

blazed* trunk.  A third colored the post with stripes of a

dark red paint; all which indications of a hostile design in

the leaders of the nation were received by the men without

in a gloomy and ominous silence.  Finally, the Mohican

himself reappeared, divested of all his attire, except his

girdle and leggings, and with one-half of his fine features

hid under a cloud of threatening black.



* A tree which has been partially or entirely stripped

of its bark is said, in the language of the country, to be

"blazed."  The term is strictly English, for a horse is said

to be blazed when it has a white mark.



Uncas moved with a slow and dignified tread toward the post,

which he immediately commenced encircling with a measured

step, not unlike an ancient dance, raising his voice, at the

same time, in the wild and irregular chant of his war song.

The notes were in the extremes of human sounds; being

sometimes melancholy and exquisitely plaintive, even

rivaling the melody of birds--and then, by sudden and

startling transitions, causing the auditors to tremble by

their depth and energy.  The words were few and often

repeated, proceeding gradually from a sort of invocation, or

hymn, to the Deity, to an intimation of the warrior's

object, and terminating as they commenced with an

acknowledgment of his own dependence on the Great Spirit.

If it were possible to translate the comprehensive and

melodious language in which he spoke, the ode might read

something like the following: "Manitou!  Manitou!  Manitou!

Thou art great, thou art good, thou art wise: Manitou!

Manitou!  Thou art just.  "In the heavens, in the clouds,

oh, I see Many spots--many dark, many red: In the heavens,

oh, I see Many clouds.  "In the woods, in the air, oh, I

hear The whoop, the long yell, and the cry: In the woods,

oh, I hear The loud whoop!  "Manitou!  Manitou!  Manitou!  I

am weak--thou art strong; I am slow; Manitou!  Manitou!

Give me aid."



At the end of what might be called each verse he made a

pause, by raising a note louder and longer than common, that

was peculiarly suited to the sentiment just expressed.  The

first close was solemn, and intended to convey the idea of

veneration; the second descriptive, bordering on the

alarming; and the third was the well-known and terrific war-

whoop, which burst from the lips of the young warrior, like

a combination of all the frightful sounds of battle.  The

last was like the first, humble and imploring.  Three times

did he repeat this song, and as often did he encircle the

post in his dance.



At the close of the first turn, a grave and highly esteemed

chief of the Lenape followed his example, singing words of

his own, however, to music of a similar character.  Warrior

after warrior enlisted in the dance, until all of any renown

and authority were numbered in its mazes.  The spectacle now

became wildly terrific; the fierce-looking and menacing

visages of the chiefs receiving additional power from the

appalling strains in which they mingled their guttural

tones.  Just then Uncas struck his tomahawk deep into the

post, and raised his voice in a shout, which might be termed

his own battle cry.  The act announced that he had assumed

the chief authority in the intended expedition.



It was a signal that awakened all the slumbering passions of

the nation.  A hundred youths, who had hitherto been

restrained by the diffidence of their years, rushed in a

frantic body on the fancied emblem of their enemy, and

severed it asunder, splinter by splinter, until nothing

remained of the trunk but its roots in the earth.  During

this moment of tumult, the most ruthless deeds of war were

performed on the fragments of the tree, with as much

apparent ferocity as if they were the living victims of

their cruelty.  Some were scalped; some received the keen

and trembling axe; and others suffered by thrusts from the

fatal knife.  In short, the manifestations of zeal and

fierce delight were so great and unequivocal, that the

expedition was declared to be a war of the nation.



The instant Uncas had struck the blow, he moved out of the

circle, and cast his eyes up to the sun, which was just

gaining the point, when the truce with Magua was to end.

The fact was soon announced by a significant gesture,

accompanied by a corresponding cry; and the whole of the

excited multitude abandoned their mimic warfare, with shrill

yells of pleasure, to prepare for the more hazardous

experiment of the reality.



The whole face of the encampment was instantly changed.  The

warriors, who were already armed and painted, became as

still as if they were incapable of any uncommon burst of

emotion.  On the other hand, the women broke out of the

lodges, with the songs of joy and those of lamentation so

strangely mixed that it might have been difficult to have

said which passion preponderated.  None, however, was idle.

Some bore their choicest articles, others their young, and

some their aged and infirm, into the forest, which spread

itself like a verdant carpet of bright green against the

side of the mountain.  Thither Tamenund also retired, with

calm composure, after a short and touching interview with

Uncas; from whom the sage separated with the reluctance that

a parent would quit a long lost and just recovered child.

In the meantime, Duncan saw Alice to a place of safety, and

then sought the scout, with a countenance that denoted how

eagerly he also panted for the approaching contest.



But Hawkeye was too much accustomed to the war song and the

enlistments of the natives, to betray any interest in the

passing scene.  He merely cast an occasional look at the

number and quality of the warriors, who, from time to time,

signified their readiness to accompany Uncas to the field.

In this particular he was soon satisfied; for, as has been

already seen, the power of the young chief quickly embraced

every fighting man in the nation.  After this material point

was so satisfactorily decided, he despatched an Indian boy

in quest of "killdeer" and the rifle of Uncas, to the place

where they had deposited their weapons on approaching the

camp of the Delawares; a measure of double policy, inasmuch

as it protected the arms from their own fate, if detained as

prisoners, and gave them the advantage of appearing among

the strangers rather as sufferers than as men provided with

means of defense and subsistence.  In selecting another to

perform the office of reclaiming his highly prized rifle,

the scout had lost sight of none of his habitual caution.

He knew that Magua had not come unattended, and he also knew

that Huron spies watched the movements of their new enemies,

along the whole boundary of the woods.  It would, therefore,

have been fatal to himself to have attempted the experiment;

a warrior would have fared no better; but the danger of a

boy would not be likely to commence until after his object

was discovered.  When Heyward joined him, the scout was

coolly awaiting the result of this experiment.



The boy , who had been well instructed, and was sufficiently

crafty, proceeded, with a bosom that was swelling with the

pride of such a confidence, and all the hopes of young

ambition, carelessly across the clearing to the wood, which

he entered at a point at some little distance from the place

where the guns were secreted.  The instant, however, he was

concealed by the foliage of the bushes, his dusky form was

to be seen gliding, like that of a serpent, toward the

desired treasure.  He was successful; and in another moment

he appeared flying across the narrow opening that skirted

the base of the terrace on which the village stood, with the

velocity of an arrow, and bearing a prize in each hand.  He

had actually gained the crags, and was leaping up their

sides with incredible activity, when a shot from the woods

showed how accurate had been the judgment of the scout.  The

boy answered it with a feeble but contemptuous shout; and

immediately a second bullet was sent after him from another

part of the cover.  At the next instant he appeared on the

level above, elevating his guns in triumph, while he moved

with the air of a conqueror toward the renowned hunter who

had honored him by so glorious a commission.



Notwithstanding the lively interest Hawkeye had taken in the

fate of his messenger, he received "killdeer" with a

satisfaction that, momentarily, drove all other

recollections from his mind.  After examining the piece with

an intelligent eye, and opening and shutting the pan some

ten or fifteen times, and trying sundry other equally

important experiments on the lock, he turned to the boy and

demanded with great manifestations of kindness, if he was

hurt.  The urchin looked proudly up in his face, but made no

reply.



"Ah! I see, lad, the knaves have barked your arm!" added the

scout, taking up the limb of the patient sufferer, across

which a deep flesh wound had been made by one of the

bullets; "but a little bruised alder will act like a charm.

In the meantime I will wrap it in a badge of wampum!  You

have commenced the business of a warrior early, my brave

boy, and are likely to bear a plenty of honorable scars to

your grave.  I know many young men that have taken scalps

who cannot show such a mark as this.  Go! " having bound up

the arm; "you will be a chief!"



The lad departed, prouder of his flowing blood than the

vainest courtier could be of his blushing ribbon; and

stalked among the fellows of his age, an object of general

admiration and envy.



But, in a moment of so many serious and important duties,

this single act of juvenile fortitude did not attract the

general notice and commendation it would have received under

milder auspices.  It had, however, served to apprise the

Delawares of the position and the intentions of their

enemies.  Accordingly a party of adventurers, better suited

to the task than the weak though spirited boy, was ordered

to dislodge the skulkers.  The duty was soon performed; for

most of the Hurons retired of themselves when they found

they had been discovered.  The Delawares followed to a

sufficient distance from their own encampment, and then

halted for orders, apprehensive of being led into an ambush.

As both parties secreted themselves, the woods were again as

still and quiet as a mild summer morning and deep solitude

could render them.



The calm but still impatient Uncas now collected his chiefs,

and divided his power.  He presented Hawkeye as a warrior,

often tried, and always found deserving of confidence.  When

he found his friend met with a favorable reception, he

bestowed on him the command of twenty men, like himself,

active, skillful and resolute.  He gave the Delawares to

understand the rank of Heyward among the troops of the

Yengeese, and then tendered to him a trust of equal

authority.  But Duncan declined the charge, professing his

readiness to serve as a volunteer by the side of the scout.

After this disposition, the young Mohican appointed various

native chiefs to fill the different situations of

responsibility, and, the time pressing, he gave forth the

word to march.  He was cheerfully, but silently obeyed by

more than two hundred men.



Their entrance into the forest was perfectly unmolested; nor

did they encounter any living objects that could either give

the alarm, or furnish the intelligence they needed, until

they came upon the lairs of their own scouts.  Here a halt

was ordered, and the chiefs were assembled to hold a

"whispering council."



At this meeting divers plans of operation were suggested,

though none of a character to meet the wishes of their

ardent leader.  Had Uncas followed the promptings of his own

inclinations, he would have led his followers to the charge

without a moment's delay, and put the conflict to the hazard

of an instant issue; but such a course would have been in

opposition to all the received practises and opinions of his

countrymen.  He was, therefore, fain to adopt a caution that

in the present temper of his mind he execrated, and to

listen to advice at which his fiery spirit chafed, under the

vivid recollection of Cora's danger and Magua's insolence.



After an unsatisfactory conference of many minutes, a

solitary individual was seen advancing from the side of the

enemy, with such apparent haste, as to induce the belief he

might be a messenger charged with pacific overtures.  When

within a hundred yards, however, of the cover behind which

the Delaware council had assembled, the stranger hesitated,

appeared uncertain what course to take, and finally halted.

All eyes were turned now on Uncas, as if seeking directions

how to proceed.



"Hawkeye," said the young chief, in a low voice, "he must

never speak to the Hurons again."



"His time has come," said the laconic scout, thrusting the

long barrel of his rifle through the leaves, and taking his

deliberate and fatal aim.  But, instead of pulling the

trigger, he lowered the muzzle again, and indulged himself

in a fit of his peculiar mirth.  "I took the imp for a

Mingo, as I'm a miserable sinner!" he said; "but when my eye

ranged along his ribs for a place to get the bullet in--

would you think it, Uncas--I saw the musicianer's blower;

and so, after all, it is the man they call Gamut, whose

death can profit no one, and whose life, if this tongue can

do anything but sing, may be made serviceable to our own

ends.  If sounds have not lost their virtue, I'll soon have

a discourse with the honest fellow, and that in a voice

he'll find more agreeable than the speech of 'killdeer'."



So saying, Hawkeye laid aside his rifle; and, crawling

through the bushes until within hearing of David, he

attempted to repeat the musical effort, which had conducted

himself, with so much safety and eclat, through the Huron

encampment.  The exquisite organs of Gamut could not readily

be deceived (and, to say the truth, it would have been

difficult for any other than Hawkeye to produce a similar

noise), and, consequently, having once before heard the

sounds, he now knew whence they proceeded.  The poor fellow

appeared relieved from a state of great embarrassment; for,

pursuing the direction of the voice--a task that to him

was not much less arduous that it would have been to have

gone up in the face of a battery--he soon discovered the

hidden songster.



"I wonder what the Hurons will think of that!" said the

scout, laughing, as he took his companion by the arm, and

urged him toward the rear.  "If the knaves lie within

earshot, they will say there are two non-compossers instead

of one!  But here we are safe," he added, pointing to Uncas

and his associates.  "Now give us the history of the Mingo

inventions in natural English, and without any ups and downs

of voice."



David gazed about him, at the fierce and wild-looking

chiefs, in mute wonder; but assured by the presence of faces

that he knew, he soon rallied his faculties so far as to

make an intelligent reply.



"The heathen are abroad in goodly numbers," said David;

"and, I fear, with evil intent.  There has been much howling

and ungodly revelry, together with such sounds as it is

profanity to utter, in their habitations within the past

hour, so much so, in truth, that I have fled to the

Delawares in search of peace."



"Your ears might not have profited much by the exchange, had

you been quicker of foot," returned the scout a little

dryly.  "But let that be as it may; where are the Hurons?"



"They lie hid in the forest, between this spot and their

village in such force, that prudence would teach you

instantly to return."



Uncas cast a glance along the range of trees which concealed

his own band and mentioned the name of:



"Magua?"



"Is among them.  He brought in the maiden that had sojourned

with the Delawares; and, leaving her in the cave, has put

himself, like a raging wolf, at the head of his savages.  I

know not what has troubled his spirit so greatly!"



"He has left her, you say, in the cave!" interrupted

Heyward; "'tis well that we know its situation!  May not

something be done for her instant relief?"



Uncas looked earnestly at the scout, before he asked:



"What says Hawkeye?"



"Give me twenty rifles, and I will turn to the right, along

the stream; and, passing by the huts of the beaver, will

join the Sagamore and the colonel.  You shall then hear the

whoop from that quarter; with this wind one may easily send

it a mile.  Then, Uncas, do you drive in the front; when

they come within range of our pieces, we will give them a

blow that, I pledge the good name of an old frontiersman,

shall make their line bend like an ashen bow.  After which,

we will carry the village, and take the woman from the cave;

when the affair may be finished with the tribe, according to

a white man's battle, by a blow and a victory; or, in the

Indian fashion, with dodge and cover.  There may be no great

learning, major, in this plan, but with courage and patience

it can all be done."



"I like it very much," cried Duncan, who saw that the

release of Cora was the primary object in the mind of the

scout; "I like it much.  Let it be instantly attempted."



After a short conference, the plan was matured, and rendered

more intelligible to the several parties; the different

signals were appointed, and the chiefs separated, each to

his allotted station.







CHAPTER 32



"But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase, Till

the great king, without a ransom paid, To her own Chrysa

send the black-eyed maid."--Pope



During the time Uncas was making this disposition of his

forces, the woods were as still, and, with the exception of

those who had met in council, apparently as much untenanted

as when they came fresh from the hands of their Almighty

Creator.  The eye could range, in every direction, through

the long and shadowed vistas of the trees; but nowhere was

any object to be seen that did not properly belong to the

peaceful and slumbering scenery.



Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the

branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel dropped

a nut, drawing the startled looks of the party for a moment

to the place; but the instant the casual interruption

ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring above their

heads, along that verdant and undulating surface of forest,

which spread itself unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over

such a vast region of country.  Across the tract of

wilderness which lay between the Delawares and the village

of their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of man had never

trodden, so breathing and deep was the silence in which it

lay.  But Hawkeye, whose duty led him foremost in the

adventure, knew the character of those with whom he was

about to contend too well to trust the treacherous quiet.



When he saw his little band collected, the scout threw

"killdeer" into the hollow of his arm, and making a silent

signal that he would be followed, he led them many rods

toward the rear, into the bed of a little brook which they

had crossed in advancing.  Here he halted, and after waiting

for the whole of his grave and attentive warriors to close

about him, he spoke in Delaware, demanding:



"Do any of my young men know whither this run will lead us?"



A Delaware stretched forth a hand, with the two fingers

separated, and indicating the manner in which they were

joined at the root, he answered:



"Before the sun could go his own length, the little water

will be in the big."  Then he added, pointing in the

direction of the place he mentioned, "the two make enough

for the beavers."



"I thought as much," returned the scout, glancing his eye

upward at the opening in the tree-tops, "from the course it

takes, and the bearings of the mountains.  Men, we will keep

within the cover of its banks till we scent the Hurons."



His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of assent,

but, perceiving that their leader was about to lead the way

in person, one or two made signs that all was not as it

should be.  Hawkeye, who comprehended their meaning glances,

turned and perceived that his party had been followed thus

far by the singing-master.



"Do you know, friend," asked the scout, gravely, and perhaps

with a little of the pride of conscious deserving in his

manner, "that this is a band of rangers chosen for the most

desperate service, and put under the command of one who,

though another might say it with a better face, will not be

apt to leave them idle.  It may not be five, it cannot be

thirty minutes, before we tread on the body of a Huron,

living or dead."



"Though not admonished of your intentions in words,"

returned David, whose face was a little flushed, and whose

ordinarily quiet and unmeaning eyes glimmered with an

expression of unusual fire, "your men have reminded me of

the children of Jacob going out to battle against the

Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to wedlock with a woman

of a race that was favored of the Lord.  Now, I have

journeyed far, and sojourned much in good and evil with the

maiden ye seek; and, though not a man of war, with my loins

girded and my sword sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a

blow in her behalf."



The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such a

strange enlistment in his mind before he answered:



"You know not the use of any we'pon.  You carry no rifle;

and believe me, what the Mingoes take they will freely give

again."



"Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed Goliath,"

returned David, drawing a sling from beneath his parti-

colored and uncouth attire, "I have not forgotten the

example of the Jewish boy.  With this ancient instrument of

war have I practised much in my youth, and peradventure the

skill has not entirely departed from me."



"Ay!" said Hawkeye, considering the deer-skin thong and

apron, with a cold and discouraging eye; "the thing might do

its work among arrows, or even knives; but these Mengwe have

been furnished by the Frenchers with a good grooved barrel a

man.  However, it seems to be your gift to go unharmed amid

fire; and as you have hitherto been favored--major, you

have left your rifle at a cock; a single shot before the

time would be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose--

singer, you can follow; we may find use for you in the

shoutings."



"I thank you, friend," returned David, supplying himself,

like his royal namesake, from among the pebbles of the

brook; "though not given to the desire to kill, had you sent

me away my spirit would have been troubled."



"Remember," added the scout, tapping his own head

significantly on that spot where Gamut was yet sore, "we

come to fight, and not to musickate.  Until the general

whoop is given, nothing speaks but the rifle."



David nodded, as much to signify his acquiescence with the

terms; and then Hawkeye, casting another observant glance

over this followers made the signal to proceed.



Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the bed

of the water-course.  Though protected from any great danger

of observation by the precipitous banks, and the thick

shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution known to

an Indian attack was neglected.  A warrior rather crawled

than walked on each flank so as to catch occasional glimpses

into the forest; and every few minutes the band came to a

halt, and listened for hostile sounds, with an acuteness of

organs that would be scarcely conceivable to a man in a less

natural state.  Their march was, however, unmolested, and

they reached the point where the lesser stream was lost in

the greater, without the smallest evidence that their

progress had been noted.  Here the scout again halted, to

consult the signs of the forest.



"We are likely to have a good day for a fight," he said, in

English, addressing Heyward, and glancing his eyes upward at

the clouds, which began to move in broad sheets across the

firmament; "a bright sun and a glittering barrel are no

friends to true sight.  Everything is favorable; they have

the wind, which will bring down their noises and their

smoke, too, no little matter in itself; whereas, with us it

will be first a shot, and then a clear view.  But here is an

end to our cover; the beavers have had the range of this

stream for hundreds of years, and what atween their food and

their dams, there is, as you see, many a girdled stub, but

few living trees."



Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no bad

description of the prospect that now lay in their front.

The brook was irregular in its width, sometimes shooting

through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at others

spreading over acres of bottom land, forming little areas

that might be termed ponds.  Everywhere along its bands were

the moldering relics of dead trees, in all the stages of

decay, from those that groaned on their tottering trunks to

such as had recently been robbed of those rugged coats that

so mysteriously contain their principle of life.  A few

long, low, and moss-covered piles were scattered among them,

like the memorials of a former and long-departed generation.



All these minute particulars were noted by the scout, with a

gravity and interest that they probably had never before

attracted.  He knew that the Huron encampment lay a short

half mile up the brook; and, with the characteristic anxiety

of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he was greatly troubled

at not finding the smallest trace of the presence of his

enemy.  Once or twice he felt induced to give the order for

a rush, and to attempt the village by surprise; but his

experience quickly admonished him of the danger of so

useless an experiment.  Then he listened intently, and with

painful uncertainty, for the sounds of hostility in the

quarter where Uncas was left; but nothing was audible except

the sighing of the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom

of the forest in gusts which threatened a tempest.  At

length, yielding rather to his unusual impatience than

taking counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring

matters to an issue, by unmasking his force, and proceeding

cautiously, but steadily, up the stream.



The scout had stood, while making his observations,

sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the

bed of the ravine, through which the smaller stream

debouched; but on hearing his low, though intelligible,

signal the whole party stole up the bank, like so many dark

specters, and silently arranged themselves around him.

Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, Hawkeye

advanced, the band breaking off in single files, and

following so accurately in his footsteps, as to leave it, if

we except Heyward and David, the trail of but a single man.



The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a volley

from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear; and a Delaware

leaping high in to the air, like a wounded deer, fell at his

whole length, dead.



"Ah, I feared some deviltry like this!" exclaimed the scout,

in English, adding, with the quickness of thought, in his

adopted tongue: "To cover, men, and charge!"



The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward had well

recovered from his surprise, he found himself standing alone

with David.  Luckily the Hurons had already fallen back, and

he was safe from their fire.  But this state of things was

evidently to be of short continuance; for the scout set the

example of pressing on their retreat, by discharging his

rifle, and darting from tree to tree as his enemy slowly

yielded ground.



It would seem that the assault had been made by a very small

party of the Hurons, which, however, continued to increase

in numbers, as it retired on its friends, until the return

fire was very nearly, if not quite, equal to that maintained

by the advancing Delawares.  Heyward threw himself among the

combatants, and imitating the necessary caution of his

companions, he made quick discharges with his own rifle.

The contest now grew warm and stationary.  Few were injured,

as both parties kept their bodies as much protected as

possible by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of

their persons except in the act of taking aim.  But the

chances were gradually growing unfavorable to Hawkeye and

his band.  The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger

without knowing how to remedy it.  He saw it was more

dangerous to retreat than to maintain his ground: while he

found his enemy throwing out men on his flank; which

rendered the task of keeping themselves covered so very

difficult to the Delawares, as nearly to silence their fire.

At this embarrassing moment, when they began to think the

whole of the hostile tribe was gradually encircling them,

they heard the yell of combatants and the rattling of arms

echoing under the arches of the wood at the place where

Uncas was posted, a bottom which, in a manner, lay beneath

the ground on which Hawkeye and his party were contending.



The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to the

scout and his friends greatly relieving.  It would seem

that, while his own surprise had been anticipated, and had

consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, having been

deceived in its object and in his numbers, had left too

small a force to resist the impetuous onset of the young

Mohican.  This fact was doubly apparent, by the rapid manner

in which the battle in the forest rolled upward toward the

village, and by an instant falling off in the number of

their assailants, who rushed to assist in maintaining the

front, and, as it now proved to be, the principal point of

defense.



Animating his followers by his voice, and his own example,

Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon their foes.

The charge, in that rude species of warfare, consisted

merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher to the enemy;

and in this maneuver he was instantly and successfully

obeyed.  The Hurons were compelled to withdraw, and the

scene of the contest rapidly changed from the more open

ground, on which it had commenced, to a spot where the

assailed found a thicket to rest upon.  Here the struggle

was protracted, arduous and seemingly of doubtful issue; the

Delawares, though none of them fell, beginning to bleed

freely, in consequence of the disadvantage at which they

were held.



In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind the same

tree as that which served for a cover to Heyward; most of

his own combatants being within call, a little on his right,

where they maintained rapid, though fruitless, discharges on

their sheltered enemies.



"You are a young man, major," said the scout, dropping the

butt of "killdeer" to the earth, and leaning on the barrel,

a little fatigued with his previous industry; "and it may be

your gift to lead armies, at some future day, ag'in these

imps, the Mingoes.  You may here see the philosophy of an

Indian fight.  It consists mainly in ready hand, a quick eye

and a good cover.  Now, if you had a company of the Royal

Americans here, in what manner would you set them to work in

this business?"



"The bayonet would make a road."



"Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a man must

ask himself, in this wilderness, how many lives he can

spare.  No--horse*," continued the scout, shaking his

head, like one who mused; "horse, I am ashamed to say must

sooner or later decide these scrimmages.  The brutes are

better than men, and to horse must we come at last.  Put a

shodden hoof on the moccasin of a red-skin, and, if his

rifle be once emptied, he will never stop to load it again."



* The American forest admits of the passage of horses,

there being little underbrush, and few tangled brakes.  The

plan of Hawkeye is the one which has always proved the most

successful in the battles between the whites and the

Indians.  Wayne, in his celebrated campaign on the Miami,

received the fire of his enemies in line; and then causing

his dragoons to wheel round his flanks, the Indians were

driven from their covers before they had time to load.  One

of the most conspicuous of the chiefs who fought in the

battle of Miami assured the writer, that the red men could

not fight the warriors with "long knives and leather

stockings"; meaning the dragoons with their sabers and

boots.



"This is a subject that might better be discussed at another

time," returned Heyward; "shall we charge?"



"I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in passing

his breathing spells in useful reflections," the scout

replied.  "As to rush, I little relish such a measure; for a

scalp or two must be thrown away in the attempt.  And yet,"

he added, bending his head aside, to catch the sounds of the

distant combat, "if we are to be of use to Uncas, these

knaves in our front must be got rid of."



Then, turning with a prompt and decided air, he called aloud

to his Indians, in their own language.  His words were

answered by a shout; and, at a given signal, each warrior

made a swift movement around his particular tree.  The sight

of so many dark bodies, glancing before their eyes at the

same instant, drew a hasty and consequently an ineffectual

fire from the Hurons.  Without stopping to breathe, the

Delawares leaped in long bounds toward the wood, like so

many panthers springing upon their prey.  Hawkeye was in

front, brandishing his terrible rifle and animating his

followers by his example.  A few of the older and more

cunning Hurons, who had not been deceived by the artifice

which had been practiced to draw their fire, now made a

close and deadly discharge of their pieces and justified the

apprehensions of the scout by felling three of his foremost

warriors.  But the shock was insufficient to repel the

impetus of the charge.  The Delawares broke into the cover

with the ferocity of their natures and swept away every

trace of resistance by the fury of the onset.



The combat endured only for an instant, hand to hand, and

then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until they reached

the opposite margin of the thicket, where they clung to the

cover, with the sort of obstinacy that is so often witnessed

in hunted brutes.  At this critical moment, when the success

of the struggle was again becoming doubtful, the crack of a

rifle was heard behind the Hurons, and a bullet came

whizzing from among some beaver lodges, which were situated

in the clearing, in their rear, and was followed by the

fierce and appalling yell of the war-whoop.



"There speaks the Sagamore!" shouted Hawkeye, answering the

cry with his own stentorian voice; "we have them now in face

and back!"



The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous.  Discouraged by

an assault from a quarter that left them no opportunity for

cover, the warriors uttered a common yell of disappointment,

and breaking off in a body, they spread themselves across

the opening, heedless of every consideration but flight.

Many fell, in making the experiment, under the bullets and

the blows of the pursuing Delawares.



We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the scout

and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview that Duncan

held with Munro.  A few brief and hurried words served to

explain the state of things to both parties; and then

Hawkeye, pointing out the Sagamore to his band, resigned the

chief authority into the hands of the Mohican chief.

Chingachgook assumed the station to which his birth and

experience gave him so distinguished a claim, with the grave

dignity that always gives force to the mandates of a native

warrior.  Following the footsteps of the scout, he led the

party back through the thicket, his men scalping the fallen

Hurons and secreting the bodies of their own dead as they

proceeded, until they gained a point where the former was

content to make a halt.



The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in the

preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level

ground, sprinkled with trees in sufficient numbers to

conceal them.  The land fell away rather precipitately in

front, and beneath their eyes stretched, for several miles,

a narrow, dark, and wooded vale.  It was through this dense

and dark forest that Uncas was still contending with the

main body of the Hurons.



The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of the

hill, and listened, with practised ears, to the sounds of

the combat.  A few birds hovered over the leafy bosom of the

valley, frightened from their secluded nests; and here and

there a light vapory cloud, which seemed already blending

with the atmosphere, arose above the trees, and indicated

some spot where the struggle had been fierce and stationary.



"The fight is coming up the ascent," said Duncan, pointing

in the direction of a new explosion of firearms; "we are too

much in the center of their line to be effective."



"They will incline into the hollow, where the cover is

thicker," said the scout, "and that will leave us well on

their flank.  Go, Sagamore; you will hardly be in time to

give the whoop, and lead on the young men.  I will fight

this scrimmage with warriors of my own color.  You know me,

Mohican; not a Huron of them all shall cross the swell, into

your rear, without the notice of 'killdeer'."



The Indian chief paused another moment to consider the signs

of the contest, which was now rolling rapidly up the ascent,

a certain evidence that the Delawares triumphed; nor did he

actually quit the place until admonished of the proximity of

his friends, as well as enemies, by the bullets of the

former, which began to patter among the dried leaves on the

ground, like the bits of falling hail which precede the

bursting of the tempest.  Hawkeye and his three companions

withdrew a few paces to a shelter, and awaited the issue

with calmness that nothing but great practise could impart

in such a scene.



It was not long before the reports of the rifles began to

lose the echoes of the woods, and to sound like weapons

discharged in the open air.  Then a warrior appeared, here

and there, driven to the skirts of the forest, and rallying

as he entered the clearing, as at the place where the final

stand was to be made.  These were soon joined by others,

until a long line of swarthy figures was to be seen clinging

to the cover with the obstinacy of desperation.  Heyward

began to grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in

the direction of Chingachgook.  The chief was seated on a

rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage, considering

the spectacle with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted

there merely to view the struggle.



"The time has come for the Delaware to strike'! said Duncan.



"Not so, not so," returned the scout; "when he scents his

friends, he will let them know that he is here.  See, see;

the knaves are getting in that clump of pines, like bees

settling after their flight.  By the Lord, a squaw might put

a bullet into the center of such a knot of dark skins!"



At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons fell

by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band.  The shout

that followed was answered by a single war-cry from the

forest, and a yell passed through the air that sounded as if

a thousand throats were united in a common effort.  The

Hurons staggered, deserting the center of their line, and

Uncas issued from the forest through the opening they left,

at the head of a hundred warriors.



Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out

the enemy to his followers, who separated in pursuit.  The

war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons seeking

protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the

victorious warriors of the Lenape.  A minute might have

passed, but the sounds were already receding in different

directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath

the echoing arches of the woods.  One little knot of Hurons,

however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring,

like lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity

which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted, to mingle

more closely in the fray.  Magua was conspicuous in this

party, both by his fierce and savage mien, and by the air of

haughty authority he yet maintained.



In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had left

himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye caught the

figure of Le Subtil, every other consideration was

forgotten.  Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some

six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity of

their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy.  Le Renard, who

watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy.

But at the moment when he thought the rashness of his

impetuous young assailant had left him at his mercy, another

shout was given, and La Longue Carabine was seen rushing to

the rescue, attended by all his white associates.  The Huron

instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the

ascent.



There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for

Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends,

continued the pursuit with the velocity of the wind.  In

vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the covers; the young

Mohican braved the dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon

compelled them to a flight as swift as his own headlong

speed.  It was fortunate that the race was of short

continuance, and that the white men were much favored by

their position, or the Delaware would soon have outstripped

all his companions, and fallen a victim to his own temerity.

But, ere such a calamity could happen, the pursuers and

pursued entered the Wyandot village, within striking

distance of each other.



Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the

chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought around their

council-lodge with the fury of despair.  The onset and the

issue were like the passage and destruction of a whirlwind.

The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawkeye, and even the

still nervous arm of Munro were all busy for that passing

moment, and the ground was quickly strewed with their

enemies.  Still Magua, though daring and much exposed,

escaped from every effort against his life, with that sort

of fabled protection that was made to overlook the fortunes

of favored heroes in the legends of ancient poetry.  Raising

a yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the

subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted away

from the place, attended by his two only surviving friends,

leaving the Delawares engaged in stripping the dead of the

bloody trophies of their victory.



But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the melee, bounded

forward in pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward and David still

pressing on his footsteps.  The utmost that the scout could

effect, was to keep the muzzle of his rifle a little in

advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered every

purpose of a charmed shield.  Once Magua appeared disposed

to make another and a final effort to revenge his losses;

but, abandoning his intention as soon as demonstrated, he

leaped into a thicket of bushes, through which he was

followed by his enemies, and suddenly entered the mouth of

the cave already known to the reader.  Hawkeye, who had only

forborne to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of

success, and proclaimed aloud that now they were certain of

their game.  The pursuers dashed into the long and narrow

entrance, in time to catch a glimpse of the retreating forms

of the Hurons.  Their passage through the natural galleries

and subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by

the shrieks and cries of hundreds of women and children.

The place, seen by its dim and uncertain light, appeared

like the shades of the infernal regions, across which

unhappy ghosts and savage demons were flitting in

multitudes.



Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him

possessed but a single object.  Heyward and the scout still

pressed on his rear, actuated, though possibly in a less

degree, by a common feeling.  But their way was becoming

intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and the

glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and

frequent; and for a moment the trace was believed to be

lost, when a white robe was seen fluttering in the further

extremity of a passage that seemed to lead up the mountain.



"'Tis Cora!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror

and delight were wildly mingled.



"Cora! Cora!" echoed Uncas, bounding forward like a deer.



"'Tis the maiden!" shouted the scout.  "Courage, lady; we

come! we come!"



The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tenfold

encouraging by this glimpse of the captive.  But the way was

rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impassable.  Uncas

abandoned his rifle, and leaped forward with headlong

precipitation.  Heyward rashly imitated his example, though

both were, a moment afterward, admonished of his madness by

hearing the bellowing of a piece, that the Hurons found time

to discharge down the passage in the rocks, the bullet from

which even gave the young Mohican a slight wound.



"We must close!" said the scout, passing his friends by a

desperate leap; "the knaves will pick us all off at this

distance; and see, they hold the maiden so as the shield

themselves!"



Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, his

example was followed by his companions, who, by incredible

exertions, got near enough to the fugitives to perceive that

Cora was borne along between the two warriors while Magua

prescribed the direction and manner of their flight.  At

this moment the forms of all four were strongly drawn

against an opening in the sky, and they disappeared.  Nearly

frantic with disappointment, Uncas and Heyward increased

efforts that already seemed superhuman, and they issued from

the cavern on the side of the mountain, in time to note the

route of the pursued.  The course lay up the ascent, and

still continued hazardous and laborious.



Encumbered by his rifle, and, perhaps, not sustained by so

deep an interest in the captive as his companions, the scout

suffered the latter to precede him a little, Uncas, in his

turn, taking the lead of Heyward.  In this manner, rocks,

precipices and difficulties were surmounted in an incredibly

short space, that at another time, and under other

circumstances, would have been deemed almost insuperable.

But the impetuous young man were rewarded by finding that,

encumbered with Cora, the Hurons were losing ground in the

race.



"Stay, dog of the Wyandots!" exclaimed Uncas, shaking his

bright tomahawk at Magua; "a Delaware girl calls stay!"



"I will go no further!" cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on

a ledge of rock, that overhung a deep precipice, at no great

distance from the summit of the mountain.  "Kill me if thou

wilt, detestable Huron; I will go no further."



The supporters of the maiden raised their ready tomahawks

with the impious joy that fiends are thought to take in

mischief, but Magua stayed the uplifted arms.  The Huron

chief, after casting the weapons he had wrested from his

companions over the rock, drew his knife, and turned to his

captive, with a look in which conflicting passions fiercely

contended.



"Woman," he said, "chose; the wigwam or the knife of Le

Subtil!"



Cora regarded him not, but dropping on her knees, she raised

her eyes and stretched her arms toward heaven, saying in a

meek and yet confiding voice:



"I am thine; do with me as thou seest best!"



"Woman," repeated Magua, hoarsely, and endeavoring in vain

to catch a glance from her serene and beaming eye, "choose!"



But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand.  The form of

the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised his arm on

high, but dropped it again with a bewildered air, like one

who doubted.  Once more he struggled with himself and lifted

the keen weapon again; but just then a piercing cry was

heard above them, and Uncas appeared, leaping frantically,

from a fearful height, upon the ledge.  Magua recoiled a

step; and one of his assistants, profiting by the chance,

sheathed his own knife in the bosom of Cora.



The Huron sprang like a tiger on his offending and already

retreating country man, but the falling form of Uncas

separated the unnatural combatants.  Diverted from his

object by this interruption, and maddened by the murder he

had just witnessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of

the prostrate Delaware, uttering an unearthly shout as he

committed the dastardly deed.  But Uncas arose from the

blow, as the wounded panther turns upon his foe, and struck

the murderer of Cora to his feet, by an effort in which the

last of his failing strength was expended.  Then, with a

stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated

by the expression of his eye all that he would do had not

the power deserted him.  The latter seized the nerveless arm

of the unresisting Delaware, and passed his knife into his

bosom three several times, before his victim, still keeping

his gaze riveted on his enemy, with a look of

inextinguishable scorn, feel dead at his feet.



"Mercy! mercy! Huron," cried Heyward, from above, in tones

nearly choked by horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive

from it!"



Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the

victorious Magua uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet

so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage triumph to

the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet

below.  He was answered by a burst from the lips of the

scout, whose tall person was just then seen moving swiftly

toward him, along those dangerous crags, with steps as bold

and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air.

But when the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless

massacre, the ledge was tenanted only by the dead.



His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then

shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his

front.  A form stood at the brow of the mountain, on the

very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an

awful attitude of menace.  Without stopping to consider his

person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised; but a rock, which

fell on the head of one of the fugitives below, exposed the

indignant and glowing countenance of the honest Gamut.  Then

Magua issued from a crevice, and, stepping with calm

indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he

leaped a wide fissure, and ascended the rocks at a point

where the arm of David could not reach him.  A single bound

would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and assure his

safety.  Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused,

and shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted:



"The pale faces are dogs! the Delawares women!  Magua leaves

them on the rocks, for the crows!"



Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short

of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub on the verge

of the height.  The form of Hawkeye had crouched like a

beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so

violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised

rifle played like a leaf fluttering in the wind.  Without

exhausting himself with fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua

suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and

found a fragment for his feet to rest on.  Then, summoning

all his powers, he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded

as to draw his knees on the edge of the mountain.  It was

now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together,

that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his

shoulder.  The surrounding rocks themselves were not

steadier than the piece became, for the single instant that

it poured out its contents.  The arms of the Huron relaxed,

and his body fell back a little, while his knees still kept

their position.  Turning a relentless look on his enemy, he

shook a hand in grim defiance.  But his hold loosened, and

his dark person was seen cutting the air with its head

downward, for a fleeting instant, until it glided past the

fringe of shrubbery which clung to the mountain, in its

rapid flight to destruction.







CHAPTER 33



"They fought, like brave men, long and well, They piled that

ground with Moslem slain, They conquered--but Bozzaris

fell, Bleeding at every vein.  His few surviving comrades

saw His smile when rang their loud hurrah, And the red field

was won; Then saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a

night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun."--Halleck



The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding day, a nation of

mourners.  The sounds of the battle were over, and they had

fed fat their ancient grudge, and had avenged their recent

quarrel with the Mengwe, by the destruction of a whole

community.  The black and murky atmosphere that floated

around the spot where the Hurons had encamped, sufficiently

announced of itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while

hundreds of ravens, that struggled above the summits of the

mountains, or swept, in noisy flocks, across the wide ranges

of the woods, furnished a frightful direction to the scene

of the combat.  In short, any eye at all practised in the

signs of a frontier warfare might easily have traced all

those unerring evidences of the ruthless results which

attend an Indian vengeance.



Still, the sun rose on the Lenape a nation of mourners.  No

shouts of success, no songs of triumph, were heard, in

rejoicings for their victory.  The latest straggler had

returned from his fell employment, only to strip himself of

the terrific emblems of his bloody calling, and to join in

the lamentations of his countrymen, as a stricken people.

Pride and exultation were supplanted by humility, and the

fiercest of human passions was already succeeded by the most

profound and unequivocal demonstrations of grief.



The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest faces

encircled a spot in their vicinity, whither everything

possessing life had repaired, and where all were now

collected, in deep and awful silence.  Though beings of

every rank and age, of both sexes, and of all pursuits, had

united to form this breathing wall of bodies, they were

influenced by a single emotion.  Each eye was riveted on the

center of that ring, which contained the objects of so much

and of so common an interest.



Six Delaware girls, with their long, dark, flowing tresses

falling loosely across their bosoms, stood apart, and only

gave proof of their existence as they occasionally strewed

sweet-scented herbs and forest flowers on a litter of

fragrant plants that, under a pall of Indian robes,

supported all that now remained of the ardent, high-souled,

and generous Cora.  Her form was concealed in many wrappers

of the same simple manufacture, and her face was shut

forever from the gaze of men.  At her feet was seated the

desolate Munro.  His aged head was bowed nearly to the

earth, in compelled submission to the stroke of Providence;

but a hidden anguish struggled about his furrowed brow, that

was only partially concealed by the careless locks of gray

that had fallen, neglected, on his temples.  Gamut stood at

his side, his meek head bared to the rays of the sun, while

his eyes, wandering and concerned, seemed to be equally

divided between that little volume, which contained so many

quaint but holy maxims, and the being in whose behalf his

soul yearned to administer consolation.  Heyward was also

nigh, supporting himself against a tree, and endeavoring to

keep down those sudden risings of sorrow that it required

his utmost manhood to subdue.



But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be imagined,

it was far less touching than another, that occupied the

opposite space of the same area.  Seated, as in life, with

his form and limbs arranged in grave and decent composure,

Uncas appeared, arrayed in the most gorgeous ornaments that

the wealth of the tribe could furnish.  Rich plumes nodded

above his head; wampum, gorgets, bracelets, and medals,

adorned his person in profusion; though his dull eye and

vacant lineaments too strongly contradicted the idle tale of

pride they would convey.



Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was placed,

without arms, paint or adornment of any sort, except the

bright blue blazonry of his race, that was indelibly

impressed on his naked bosom.  During the long period that

the tribe had thus been collected, the Mohican warrior had

kept a steady, anxious look on the cold and senseless

countenance of his son.  So riveted and intense had been

that gaze, and so changeless his attitude, that a stranger

might not have told the living from the dead, but for the

occasional gleamings of a troubled spirit, that shot athwart

the dark visage of one, and the deathlike calm that had

forever settled on the lineaments of the other.  The scout

was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal

and avenging weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders

of his nation, occupied a high place at hand, whence he

might look down on the mute and sorrowful assemblage of his

people.



Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a soldier, in

the military attire of a strange nation; and without it was

his warhorse, in the center of a collection of mounted

domestics, seemingly in readiness to undertake some distant

journey.  The vestments of the stranger announced him to be

one who held a responsible situation near the person of the

captain of the Canadas; and who, as it would now seem,

finding his errand of peace frustrated by the fierce

impetuosity of his allies, was content to become a silent

and sad spectator of the fruits of a contest that he had

arrived too late to anticipate.



The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, and

yet had the multitude maintained its breathing stillness

since its dawn.



No sound louder than a stifled sob had been heard among

them, nor had even a limb been moved throughout that long

and painful period, except to perform the simple and

touching offerings that were made, from time to time, in

commemoration of the dead.  The patience and forbearance of

Indian fortitude could alone support such an appearance of

abstraction, as seemed now to have turned each dark and

motionless figure into stone.



At length, the sage of the Delawares stretched forth an arm,

and leaning on the shoulders of his attendants, he arose

with an air as feeble as if another age had already

intervened between the man who had met his nation the

preceding day, and him who now tottered on his elevated

stand.



"Men of the Lenape!" he said, in low, hollow tones, that

sounded like a voice charged with some prophetic mission:

"the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud!  His eye is

turned from you; His ears are shut; His tongue gives no

answer.  You see him not; yet His judgments are before you.

Let your hearts be open and your spirits tell no lie.  Men

of the Lenape! the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud."



As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on the

ears of the multitude, a stillness as deep and awful

succeeded as if the venerated spirit they worshiped had

uttered the words without the aid of human organs; and even

the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, compared with

the humbled and submissive throng by whom he was surrounded.

As the immediate effect, however, gradually passed away, a

low murmur of voices commenced a sort of chant in honor of

the dead.  The sounds were those of females, and were

thrillingly soft and wailing.  The words were connected by

no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took up

the eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called,

and gave vent to her emotions in such language as was

suggested by her feelings and the occasion.  At intervals

the speaker was interrupted by general and loud bursts of

sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of Cora

plucked the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if

bewildered with grief.  But, in the milder moments of their

plaint, these emblems of purity and sweetness were cast back

to their places, with every sign of tenderness and regret.

Though rendered less connected by many and general

interruptions and outbreakings, a translation of their

language would have contained a regular descant, which, in

substance, might have proved to possess a train of

consecutive ideas.



A girl, selected for the task by her rank and

qualifications, commenced by modest allusions to the

qualities of the deceased warrior, embellishing her

expressions with those oriental images that the Indians have

probably brought with them from the extremes of the other

continent, and which form of themselves a link to connect

the ancient histories of the two worlds.  She called him the

"panther of his tribe"; and described him as one whose

moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose bound was like the

leap of a young fawn; whose eye was brighter than a star in

the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the

thunder of the Manitou.  She reminded him of the mother who

bore him, and dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel

in possessing such a son.  She bade him tell her, when they

met in the world of spirits, that the Delaware girls had

shed tears above the grave of her child, and had called her

blessed.



Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder

and still more tender strain, alluded, with the delicacy and

sensitiveness of women, to the stranger maiden, who had left

the upper earth at a time so near his own departure, as to

render the will of the Great Spirit too manifest to be

disregarded.  They admonished him to be kind to her, and to

have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which

were so necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself.

They dwelled upon her matchless beauty, and on her noble

resolution, without the taint of envy, and as angels may be

thought to delight in a superior excellence; adding, that

these endowments should prove more than equivalent for any

little imperfection in her education.



After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the

maiden herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and

love.  They exhorted her to be of cheerful mind, and to fear

nothing for her future welfare.  A hunter would be her

companion, who knew how to provide for her smallest wants;

and a warrior was at her side who was able to protect he

against every danger.  They promised that her path should be

pleasant, and her burden light.  They cautioned her against

unavailing regrets for the friends of her youth, and the

scenes where her father had dwelt; assuring her that the

"blessed hunting grounds of the Lenape," contained vales as

pleasant, streams as pure; and flowers as sweet, as the

"heaven of the pale faces."  They advised her to be

attentive to the wants of her companion, and never to forget

the distinction which the Manitou had so wisely established

between them.  Then, in a wild burst of their chant they

sang with united voices the temper of the Mohican's mind.

They pronounced him noble, manly and generous; all that

became a warrior, and all that a maid might love.  Clothing

their ideas in the most remote and subtle images, they

betrayed, that, in the short period of their intercourse,

they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their

sex, the truant disposition of his inclinations.  The

Delaware girls had found no favor in his eyes!  He was of a

race that had once been lords on the shores of the salt

lake, and his wishes had led him back to a people who dwelt

about the graves of his fathers.  Why should not such a

predilection be encouraged!  That she was of a blood purer

and richer than the rest of her nation, any eye might have

seen; that she was equal to the dangers and daring of a life

in the woods, her conduct had proved; and now, they added,

the "wise one of the earth" had transplanted her to a place

where she would find congenial spirits, and might be forever

happy.



Then, with another transition in voice and subject,

allusions were made to the virgin who wept in the adjacent

lodge.  They compared her to flakes of snow; as pure, as

white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in the fierce

heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of winter.  They

doubted not that she was lovely in the eyes of the young

chief, whose skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own;

but though far from expressing such a preference, it was

evident they deemed her less excellent than the maid they

mourned.  Still they denied her no need her rare charms

might properly claim.  Her ringlets were compared to the

exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of

heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing flush

of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive than her

bloom.



During these and similar songs nothing was audible but the

murmurs of the music; relieved, as it was, or rather

rendered terrible, by those occasional bursts of grief which

might be called its choruses.  The Delawares themselves

listened like charmed men; and it was very apparent, by the

variations of their speaking countenances, how deep and true

was their sympathy.  Even David was not reluctant to lend

his ears to the tones of voices so sweet; and long ere the

chant was ended, his gaze announced that his soul was

enthralled.



The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the words

were intelligible, suffered himself to be a little aroused

from his meditative posture, and bent his face aside, to

catch their meaning, as the girls proceeded.  But when they

spoke of the future prospects of Cora and Uncas, he shook

his head, like one who knew the error of their simple creed,

and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it until

the ceremony, if that might be called a ceremony, in which

feeling was so deeply imbued, was finished.  Happily for the

self-command of both Heyward and Munro, they knew not the

meaning of the wild sounds they heard.



Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest

manifested by the native part of the audience.  His look

never changed throughout the whole of the scene, nor did a

muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at the wildest or

the most pathetic parts of the lamentation.  The cold and

senseless remains of his son was all to him, and every other

sense but that of sight seemed frozen, in order that his

eyes might take their final gaze at those lineaments he had

so long loved, and which were now about to be closed forever

from his view.



In this stage of the obsequies, a warrior much renowned for

deed in arms, and more especially for services in the recent

combat, a man of stern and grave demeanor, advanced slowly

from the crowd, and placed himself nigh the person of the

dead.



"Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki?" he said,

addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the

empty clay retained the faculties of the animated man; "thy

time has been like that of the sun when in the trees; they

glory brighter than his light at noonday.  Thou art gone,

youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the

briers from thy path to the world of the spirits.  Who that

saw thee in battle would believe that thou couldst die?  Who

before thee has ever shown Uttawa the way into the fight?

Thy feet were like the wings of eagles; thine arm heavier

than falling branches from the pine; and thy voice like the

Manitou when He speaks in the clouds.  The tongue of Uttawa

is weak," he added, looking about him with a melancholy

gaze, "and his heart exceeding heavy.  Pride of the

Wapanachki, why hast thou left us?"



He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the

high and gifted men of the nation had sung or spoken their

tribute of praise over the manes of the deceased chief.

When each had ended, another deep and breathing silence

reigned in all the place.



Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed

accompaniment of distant music, rising just high enough on

the air to be audible, and yet so indistinctly, as to leave

its character, and the place whence it proceeded, alike

matters of conjecture.  It was, however, succeeded by

another and another strain, each in a higher key, until they

grew on the ear, first in long drawn and often repeated

interjections, and finally in words.  The lips of

Chingachgook had so far parted, as to announce that it was

the monody of the father.  Though not an eye was turned

toward him nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it

was apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated

their heads to listen, that they drank in the sounds with an

intenseness of attention, that none but Tamenund himself had

ever before commanded.  But they listened in vain.  The

strains rose just so loud as to become intelligible, and

then grew fainter and more trembling, until they finally

sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of

wind.  The lips of the Sagamore closed, and he remained

silent in his seat, looking with his riveted eye and

motionless form, like some creature that had been turned

from the Almighty hand with the form but without the spirit

of a man.  The Delawares who knew by these symptoms that the

mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an

effort of fortitude, relaxed in their attention; and, with

an innate delicacy, seemed to bestow all their thoughts on

the obsequies of the stranger maiden.



A signal was given, by one of the elder chiefs, to the women

who crowded that part of the circle near which the body of

Cora lay.  Obedient to the sign, the girls raised the bier

to the elevation of their heads, and advanced with slow and

regulated steps, chanting, as they proceeded, another

wailing song in praise of the deceased.  Gamut, who had been

a close observer of rites he deemed so heathenish, now bent

his head over the shoulder of the unconscious father,

whispering:



"They move with the remains of thy child; shall we not

follow, and see them interred with Christian burial?"



Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded in his

ear, and bestowing one anxious and hurried glance around

him, he arose and followed in the simple train, with the

mien of a soldier, but bearing the full burden of a parent's

suffering.  His friends pressed around him with a sorrow

that was too strong to be termed sympathy--even the young

Frenchman joining in the procession, with the air of a man

who was sensibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of

one so lovely.  But when the last and humblest female of the

tribe had joined in the wild and yet ordered array, the men

of the Lenape contracted their circle, and formed again

around the person of Uncas, as silent, as grave, and as

motionless as before.



The place which had been chosen for the grave of Cora was a

little knoll, where a cluster of young and healthful pines

had taken root, forming of themselves a melancholy and

appropriate shade over the spot.  On reaching it the girls

deposited their burden, and continued for many minutes

waiting, with characteristic patience, and native timidity,

for some evidence that they whose feelings were most

concerned were content with the arrangement.  At length the

scout, who alone understood their habits, said, in their own

language:



"My daughters have done well; the white men thank them."



Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls

proceeded to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously, and

not inelegantly, fabricated of the bark of the birch; after

which they lowered it into its dark and final abode.  The

ceremony of covering the remains, and concealing the marks

of the fresh earth, by leaves and other natural and

customary objects, was conducted with the same simple and

silent forms.  But when the labors of the kind beings who

had performed these sad and friendly offices were so far

completed, they hesitated, in a way to show that they knew

not how much further they might proceed.  It was in this

stage of the rites that the scout again addressed them:



"My young women have done enough," he said: "the spirit of

the pale face has no need of food or raiment, their gifts

being according to the heaven of their color.  I see," he

added, glancing an eye at David, who was preparing his book

in a manner that indicated an intention to lead the way in

sacred song, "that one who better knows the Christian

fashions is about to speak."



The females stood modestly aside, and, from having been the

principal actors in the scene, they now became the meek and

attentive observers of that which followed.  During the time

David occupied in pouring out the pious feelings of his

spirit in this manner, not a sign of surprise, nor a look of

impatience, escaped them.  They listened like those who knew

the meaning of the strange words, and appeared as if they

felt the mingled emotions of sorrow, hope, and resignation,

they were intended to convey.



Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and perhaps

influenced by his own secret emotions, the master of song

exceeded his usual efforts.  His full rich voice was not

found to suffer by a comparison with the soft tones of the

girls; and his more modulated strains possessed, at least

for the ears of those to whom they were peculiarly

addressed, the additional power of intelligence.  He ended

the anthem, as he had commenced it, in the midst of a grave

and solemn stillness.



When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the ears of

his auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the eyes, and

the general and yet subdued movement of the assemblage,

betrayed that something was expected from the father of the

deceased.  Munro seemed sensible that the time was come for

him to exert what is, perhaps, the greatest effort of which

human nature is capable.  He bared his gray locks, and

looked around the timid and quiet throng by which he was

encircled, with a firm and collected countenance.  Then,

motioning with his hand for the scout to listen, he said:



"Say to these kind and gentle females, that a heart-broken

and failing man returns them his thanks.  Tell them, that

the Being we all worship, under different names, will be

mindful of their charity; and that the time shall not be

distant when we may assemble around His throne without

distinction of sex, or rank, or color."



The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which the

veteran delivered these words, and shook his head slowly

when they were ended, as one who doubted their efficacy.



"To tell them this," he said, "would be to tell them that

the snows come not in the winter, or that the sun shines

fiercest when the trees are stripped of their leaves."



Then turning to the women, he made such a communication of

the other's gratitude as he deemed most suited to the

capacities of his listeners.  The head of Munro had already

sunk upon his chest, and he was again fast relapsing into

melancholy, when the young Frenchman before named ventured

to touch him lightly on the elbow.  As soon as he had gained

the attention of the mourning old man, he pointed toward a

group of young Indians, who approached with a light but

closely covered litter, and then pointed upward toward the

sun.



"I understand you, sir," returned Munro, with a voice of

forced firmness; "I understand you.  It is the will of

Heaven, and I submit.  Cora, my child! if the prayers of a

heart-broken father could avail thee now, how blessed

shouldst thou be!  Come, gentlemen," he added, looking about

him with an air of lofty composure, though the anguish that

quivered in his faded countenance was far too powerful to be

concealed, "our duty here is ended; let us depart."



Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them from a spot

where, each instant, he felt his self-control was about to

desert him.  While his companions were mounting, however, he

found time to press the hand of the scout, and to repeat the

terms of an engagement they had made to meet again within

the posts of the British army.  Then, gladly throwing

himself into the saddle, he spurred his charger to the side

of the litter, whence law and stifled sobs alone announced

the presence of Alice.  In this manner, the head of Munro

again drooping on his bosom, with Heyward and David

following in sorrowing silence, and attended by the aid of

Montcalm with his guard, all the white men, with the

exception of Hawkeye, passed from before the eyes of the

Delawares, and were buried in the vast forests of that

region.



But the tie which, through their common calamity, had united

the feelings of these simple dwellers in the woods with the

strangers who had thus transiently visited them, was not so

easily broken.  Years passed away before the traditionary

tale of the white maiden, and of the young warrior of the

Mohicans ceased to beguile the long nights and tedious

marches, or to animate their youthful and brave with a

desire for vengeance.  Neither were the secondary actors in

these momentous incidents forgotten.  Through the medium of

the scout, who served for years afterward as a link between

them and civilized life, they learned, in answer to their

inquiries, that the "Gray Head" was speedily gathered to his

fathers--borne down, as was erroneously believed, by his

military misfortunes; and that the "Open Hand" had conveyed

his surviving daughter far into the settlements of the pale

faces, where her tears had at last ceased to flow, and had

been succeeded by the bright smiles which were better suited

to her joyous nature.



But these were events of a time later than that which

concerns our tale.  Deserted by all of his color, Hawkeye

returned to the spot where his sympathies led him, with a

force that no ideal bond of union could destroy.  He was

just in time to catch a parting look of the features of

Uncas, whom the Delawares were already inclosing in his last

vestment of skins.  They paused to permit the longing and

lingering gaze of the sturdy woodsman, and when it was

ended, the body was enveloped, never to be unclosed again.

Then came a procession like the other, and the whole nation

was collected about the temporary grave of the chief--

temporary, because it was proper that, at some future day,

his bones should rest among those of this own people.



The movement, like the feeling, had been simultaneous and

general.  The same grave expression of grief, the same rigid

silence, and the same deference to the principal mourner,

were observed around the place of interment as have been

already described.  The body was deposited in an attitude of

repose, facing the rising sun, with the implements of war

and of the chase at hand, in readiness for the final

journey.  An opening was left in the shell, by which it was

protected from the soil, for the spirit to communicate with

its earthly tenement, when necessary; and the whole was

concealed from the instinct, and protected from the ravages

of the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to the

natives.  The manual rites then ceased and all present

reverted to the more spiritual part of the ceremonies.



Chingachgook became once more the object of the common

attention.  He had not yet spoken, and something consolatory

and instructive was expected from so renowned a chief on an

occasion of such interest.  Conscious of the wishes of the

people, the stern and self-restrained warrior raised his

face, which had latterly been buried in his robe, and looked

about him with a steady eye.  His firmly compressed and

expressive lips then severed, and for the first time during

the long ceremonies his voice was distinctly audible.  "Why

do my brothers mourn?" he said, regarding the dark race of

dejected warriors by whom he was environed; "why do my

daughters weep? that a young man has gone to the happy

hunting-grounds; that a chief has filled his time with

honor? He was good; he was dutiful; he was brave.  Who can

deny it?  The Manitou had need of such a warrior, and He has

called him away.  As for me, the son and the father of

Uncas, I am a blazed pine, in a clearing of the pale faces.

My race has gone from the shores of the salt lake and the

hills of the Delawares.  But who can say that the serpent of

his tribe has forgotten his wisdom?  I am alone--"



"No, no," cried Hawkeye, who had been gazing with a yearning

look at the rigid features of his friend, with something

like his own self-command, but whose philosophy could endure

no longer; "no, Sagamore, not alone.  The gifts of our

colors may be different, but God has so placed us as to

journey in the same path.  I have no kin, and I may also

say, like you, no people.  He was your son, and a red-skin

by nature; and it may be that your blood was nearer--but,

if ever I forget the lad who has so often fou't at my side

in war, and slept at my side in peace, may He who made us

all, whatever may be our color or our gifts, forget me!  The

boy has left us for a time; but, Sagamore, you are not

alone."



Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the warmth of

feeling, the scout had stretched across the fresh earth, and

in an attitude of friendship these two sturdy and intrepid

woodsmen bowed their heads together, while scalding tears

fell to their feet, watering the grave of Uncas like drops

of falling rain.



In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst

of feeling, coming as it did, from the two most renowned

warriors of that region, was received, Tamenund lifted his

voice to disperse the multitude.



"It is enough," he said.  "Go, children of the Lenape, the

anger of the Manitou is not done.  Why should Tamenund stay?

The pale faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the

red men has not yet come again.  My day has been too long.

In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong;

and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the

last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans."