The Last of the Mohicans

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The birthday gift ideas with bubble toysLast of the Mohicans

A Narrative of 1757

by James Fenimore Cooper

Contents

INTRODUCTION

It is believed that the scene of this tale, and most of the informationnecessary to understand its allusions, are rendered sufficiently obvious to thereader in the text itself, or in the accompanying notes. Still there is so muchobscurity 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, greaterantithesis of character, than the native warrior of North America. In war, heis daring, boastful, cunning, ruthless, self-denying, and self-devoted; inpeace, just, generous, hospitable, revengeful, superstitious, modest, andcommonly chaste. These are qualities, it is true, which do not distinguish allalike; but they are so far the predominating traits of these remarkable peopleas to be characteristic.

It is generally believed that the Aborigines of the American continent have anAsiatic origin. There are many physical as well as moral facts whichcorroborate 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 whilehis cheek-bones have a very striking indication of a Tartar origin, his eyeshave not. Climate may have had great influence on the former, but it isdifficult to see how it can have produced the substantial difference whichexists in the latter. The imagery of the Indian, both in his poetry and in hisoratory, is oriental; chastened, and perhaps improved, by the limited range ofhis practical knowledge. He draws his metaphors from the clouds, the seasons,the birds, the beasts, and the vegetable world. In this, perhaps, he does nomore than any other energetic and imaginative race would do, being compelled toset bounds to fancy by experience; but the North American Indian clothes hisideas in a dress which is different from that of the African, and is orientalin itself. His language has the richness and sententious fullness of theChinese. He will express a phrase in a word, and he will qualify the meaning ofan entire sentence by a syllable; he will even convey different significationsby the simplest inflections of the voice.

Philologists have said that there are but two or three languages, properlyspeaking, among all the numerous tribes which formerly occupied the countrythat now composes the United States. They ascribe the known difficulty onepeople have to understand another to corruptions and dialects. The writerremembers to have been present at an interview between two chiefs of the GreatPrairies west of the Mississippi, and when an interpreter was in attendance whospoke both their languages. The warriors appeared to be on the most friendlyterms, and seemingly conversed much together; yet, according to the account ofthe interpreter, each was absolutely ignorant of what the other said. They wereof hostile tribes, brought together by the influence of the Americangovernment; and it is worthy of remark, that a common policy led them both toadopt the same subject. They mutually exhorted each other to be of use in theevent of the chances of war throwing either of the parties into the hands ofhis enemies. Whatever may be the truth, as respects the root and the genius ofthe Indian tongues, it is quite certain they are now so distinct in their wordsas to possess most of the disadvantages of strange languages; hence much of theembarrassment that has arisen in learning their histories, and most of theuncertainty which exists in their traditions.

Like nations of higher pretensions, the American Indian gives a very differentaccount of his own tribe or race from that which is given by other people. Heis much addicted to overestimating his own perfections, and to undervaluingthose of his rival or his enemy; a trait which may possibly be thoughtcorroborative of the Mosaic account of the creation.

The whites have assisted greatly in rendering the traditions of the Aboriginesmore obscure by their own manner of corrupting names. Thus, the term used inthe title of this book has undergone the changes of Mahicanni, Mohicans, andMohegans; the latter being the word commonly used by the whites. When it isremembered that the Dutch (who first settled New York), the English, and theFrench, all gave appellations to the tribes that dwelt within the country whichis the scene of this story, and that the Indians not only gave different namesto their enemies, but frequently to themselves, the cause of the confusion willbe understood.

In these pages, Lenni-Lenape, Lenope, Delawares, Wapanachki, and Mohicans, allmean the same people, or tribes of the same stock. The Mengwe, the Maquas, theMingoes, and the Iroquois, though not all strictly the same, are identifiedfrequently by the speakers, being politically confederated and opposed to thosejust named. Mingo was a term of peculiar reproach, as were Mengwe and Maqua ina less degree.

The Mohicans were the possessors of the country first occupied by the Europeansin this portion of the continent. They were, consequently, the firstdispossessed; and the seemingly inevitable fate of all these people, whodisappear before the advances, or it might be termed the inroads, ofcivilization, as the verdure of their native forests falls before the nippingfrosts, is represented as having already befallen them. There is sufficienthistorical 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 hasundergone as little change, since the historical events alluded to had place,as almost any other district of equal extent within the whole limits of theUnited States. There are fashionable and well-attended watering-places at andnear the spring where Hawkeye halted to drink, and roads traverse the forestswhere 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 fortressof later date, are only to be traced as ruins, there is another village on theshores of the Horican. But, beyond this, the enterprise and energy of a peoplewho have done so much in other places have done little here. The whole of thatwilderness, in which the latter incidents of the legend occurred, is nearly awilderness still, though the red man has entirely deserted this part of thestate. Of all the tribes named in these pages, there exist only a fewhalf-civilized beings of the Oneidas, on the reservations of their people inNew York. The rest have disappeared, either from the regions in which theirfathers dwelt, or altogether from the earth.

There is one point on which we would wish to say a word before closing thispreface. Hawkeye calls the Lac du Saint Sacrement, the “Horican.”As we believe this to be an appropriation of the name that has its origin withourselves, the time has arrived, perhaps, when the fact should be franklyadmitted. While writing this book, fully a quarter of a century since, itoccurred to us that the French name of this lake was too complicated, theAmerican too commonplace, and the Indian too unpronounceable, for either to beused familiarly in a work of fiction. Looking over an ancient map, it wasascertained that a tribe of Indians, called “Les Horicans” by theFrench, existed in the neighborhood of this beautiful sheet of water. As everyword uttered by Natty Bumppo was not to be received as rigid truth, we took theliberty of putting the “Horican” into his mouth, as the substitutefor “Lake George.” The name has appeared to find favor, and allthings considered, it may possibly be quite as well to let it stand, instead ofgoing back to the House of Hanover for the appellation of our finest sheet ofwater. We relieve our conscience by the confession, at all events leaving it toexercise its authority as it may see fit.

CHAPTER I.

“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 toilsand dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before the adverse hostscould meet. A wide and apparently an impervious boundary of forests severed thepossessions of the hostile provinces of France and England. The hardy colonist,and the trained European who fought at his side, frequently expended months instruggling against the rapids of the streams, or in effecting the rugged passesof the mountains, in quest of an opportunity to exhibit their courage in a moremartial conflict. But, emulating the patience and self-denial of the practicednative warriors, they learned to overcome every difficulty; and it would seemthat, in time, there was no recess of the woods so dark, nor any secret placeso lovely, that it might claim exemption from the inroads of those who hadpledged their blood to satiate their vengeance, or to uphold the cold andselfish policy of the distant monarchs of Europe.

Perhaps no district throughout the wide extent of the intermediate frontierscan furnish a livelier picture of the cruelty and fierceness of the savagewarfare of those periods than the country which lies between the head waters ofthe Hudson and the adjacent lakes.

The facilities which nature had there offered to the march of the combatantswere too obvious to be neglected. The lengthened sheet of the Champlainstretched from the frontiers of Canada, deep within the borders of theneighboring province of New York, forming a natural passage across half thedistance that the French were compelled to master in order to strike theirenemies. Near its southern termination, it received the contributions ofanother lake, whose waters were so limpid as to have been exclusively selectedby the Jesuit missionaries to perform the typical purification of baptism, andto obtain for it the title of lake “du Saint Sacrément.” The lesszealous English thought they conferred a sufficient honor on its unsulliedfountains, when they bestowed the name of their reigning prince, the second ofthe house of Hanover. The two united to rob the untutored possessors of itswooded scenery of their native right to perpetuate its original appellation of“Horican.”^[1]

[1]As each nation of the Indians had its language or its dialect, they usuallygave different names to the same places, though nearly all of theirappellations were descriptive of the object. Thus a literal translation of thename of this beautiful sheet of water, used by the tribe that dwelt on itsbanks, would be “The Tail of the Lake.” Lake George, as it isvulgarly, and now, indeed, legally, called, forms a sort of tail to LakeChamplain, 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 thewater, commenced a portage of as many miles, which conducted the adventurer tothe banks of the Hudson, at a point where, with the usual obstructions of therapids, or rifts, as they were then termed in the language of the country, theriver became navigable to the tide.

While, in the pursuit of their daring plans of annoyance, the restlessenterprise of the French even attempted the distant and difficult gorges of theAlleghany, it may easily be imagined that their proverbial acuteness would notoverlook the natural advantages of the district we have just described. Itbecame, emphatically, the bloody arena, in which most of the battles for themastery of the colonies were contested. Forts were erected at the differentpoints that commanded the facilities of the route, and were taken and retaken,razed and rebuilt, as victory alighted on the hostile banners. While thehusbandman shrank back from the dangerous passes, within the safer boundariesof the more ancient settlements, armies larger than those that had oftendisposed of the scepters of the mother countries, were seen to bury themselvesin these forests, whence they rarely returned but in skeleton bands, that werehaggard with care or dejected by defeat. Though the arts of peace were unknownto this fatal region, its forests were alive with men; its shades and glensrang with the sounds of martial music, and the echoes of its mountains threwback the laugh, or repeated the wanton cry, of many a gallant and recklessyouth, as he hurried by them, in the noontide of his spirits, to slumber in along night of forgetfulness.

It was in this scene of strife and bloodshed that the incidents we shallattempt to relate occurred, during the third year of the war which England andFrance last waged for the possession of a country that neither was destined toretain.

The imbecility of her military leaders abroad, and the fatal want of energy inher councils at home, had lowered the character of Great Britain from the proudelevation on which it had been placed by the talents and enterprise of herformer warriors and statesmen. No longer dreaded by her enemies, her servantswere fast losing the confidence of self-respect. In this mortifying abasement,the colonists, though innocent of her imbecility, and too humble to be theagents of her blunders, were but the natural participators. They had recentlyseen a chosen army from that country, which, reverencing as a mother, they hadblindly believed invincible—an army led by a chief who had been selectedfrom a crowd of trained warriors, for his rare military endowments,disgracefully routed by a handful of French and Indians, and only saved fromannihilation by the coolness and spirit of a Virginian boy, whose riper famehas since diffused itself, with the steady influence of moral truth, to theuttermost confines of Christendom.^[2]A wide frontier had been laid naked by this unexpected disaster, and moresubstantial evils were preceded by a thousand fanciful and imaginary dangers.The alarmed colonists believed that the yells of the savages mingled with everyfitful gust of wind that issued from the interminable forests of the west. Theterrific character of their merciless enemies increased immeasurably thenatural horrors of warfare. Numberless recent massacres were still vivid intheir recollections; nor was there any ear in the provinces so deaf as not tohave drunk in with avidity the narrative of some fearful tale of midnightmurder, in which the natives of the forests were the principal and barbarousactors. As the credulous and excited traveler related the hazardous chances ofthe wilderness, the blood of the timid curdled with terror, and mothers castanxious glances even at those children which slumbered within the security ofthe largest towns. In short, the magnifying influence of fear began to set atnaught the calculations of reason, and to render those who should haveremembered their manhood, the slaves of the basest passions. Even the mostconfident and the stoutest hearts began to think the issue of the contest wasbecoming doubtful; and that abject class was hourly increasing in numbers, whothought they foresaw all the possessions of the English crown in Americasubdued by their Christian foes, or laid waste by the inroads of theirrelentless allies.

[2]Washington, who, after uselessly admonishing the European general of thedanger into which he was heedlessly running, saved the remnants of the Britisharmy, on this occasion, by his decision and courage. The reputation earned byWashington in this battle was the principal cause of his being selected tocommand the American armies at a later day. It is a circumstance worthy ofobservation, that while all America rang with his well-merited reputation, hisname does not occur in any European account of the battle; at least the authorhas searched for it without success. In this manner does the mother countryabsorb even the fame, under that system of rule.

When, therefore, intelligence was received at the fort which covered thesouthern termination of the portage between the Hudson and the lakes, thatMontcalm had been seen moving up the Champlain, with an army “numerous asthe leaves on the trees,” its truth was admitted with more of the cravenreluctance of fear than with the stern joy that a warrior should feel, infinding an enemy within reach of his blow. The news had been brought, towardthe decline of a day in midsummer, by an Indian runner, who also bore an urgentrequest from Munro, the commander of a work on the shore of the “holylake,” for a speedy and powerful reinforcement. It has already beenmentioned that the distance between these two posts was less than five leagues.The rude path, which originally formed their line of communication, had beenwidened for the passage of wagons; so that the distance which had been traveledby the son of the forest in two hours, might easily be effected by a detachmentof troops, with their necessary baggage, between the rising and setting of asummer sun. The loyal servants of the British crown had given to one of theseforest-fastnesses the name of William Henry, and to the other that of FortEdward, calling each after a favorite prince of the reigning family. Theveteran Scotchman just named held the first, with a regiment of regulars and afew provincials; a force really by far too small to make head against theformidable 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 kingin the northern provinces, with a body of more than five thousand men. Byuniting the several detachments of his command, this officer might have arrayednearly double that number of combatants against the enterprising Frenchman, whohad ventured so far from his reinforcements, with an army but little superiorin numbers.

But under the influence of their degraded fortunes, both officers and menappeared better disposed to await the approach of their formidable antagonists,within their works, than to resist the progress of their march, by emulatingthe successful example of the French at Fort du Quesne, and striking a blow ontheir advance.

After the first surprise of the intelligence had a little abated, a rumor wasspread through the entrenched camp, which stretched along the margin of theHudson, forming a chain of outworks to the body of the fort itself, that achosen detachment of fifteen hundred men was to depart, with the dawn, forWilliam Henry, the post at the northern extremity of the portage. That which atfirst was only rumor, soon became certainty, as orders passed from the quartersof the commander-in-chief to the several corps he had selected for thisservice, to prepare for their speedy departure. All doubts as to the intentionof Webb now vanished, and an hour or two of hurried footsteps and anxious facessucceeded. The novice in the military art flew from point to point, retardinghis own preparations by the excess of his violent and somewhat distemperedzeal; while the more practiced veteran made his arrangements with adeliberation that scorned every appearance of haste; though his soberlineaments and anxious eye sufficiently betrayed that he had no very strongprofessional relish for the, as yet, untried and dreaded warfare of thewilderness. At length the sun set in a flood of glory, behind the distantwestern hills, and as darkness drew its veil around the secluded spot thesounds of preparation diminished; the last light finally disappeared from thelog cabin of some officer; the trees cast their deeper shadows over the moundsand the rippling stream, and a silence soon pervaded the camp, as deep as thatwhich reigned in the vast forest by which it was environed.

According to the orders of the preceding night, the heavy sleep of the army wasbroken by the rolling of the warning drums, whose rattling echoes were heardissuing, on the damp morning air, out of every vista of the woods, just as daybegan to draw the shaggy outlines of some tall pines of the vicinity, on theopening brightness of a soft and cloudless eastern sky. In an instant the wholecamp was in motion; the meanest soldier arousing from his lair to witness thedeparture of his comrades, and to share in the excitement and incidents of thehour. The simple array of the chosen band was soon completed. While the regularand trained hirelings of the king marched with haughtiness to the right of theline, 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 thebaggage; and before the gray light of the morning was mellowed by the rays ofthe sun, the main body of the combatants wheeled into column, and left theencampment with a show of high military bearing, that served to drown theslumbering apprehensions of many a novice, who was now about to make his firstessay in arms. While in view of their admiring comrades, the same proud frontand ordered array was observed, until the notes of their fifes growing fainterin distance, the forest at length appeared to swallow up the living mass whichhad slowly entered its bosom.

The deepest sounds of the retiring and invisible column had ceased to be borneon the breeze to the listeners, and the latest straggler had alreadydisappeared in pursuit; but there still remained the signs of anotherdeparture, before a log cabin of unusual size and accommodations, in front ofwhich those sentinels paced their rounds, who were known to guard the person ofthe English general. At this spot were gathered some half dozen horses,caparisoned in a manner which showed that two, at least, were destined to bearthe persons of females, of a rank that it was not usual to meet so far in thewilds of the country. A third wore trappings and arms of an officer of thestaff; while the rest, from the plainness of the housings, and the travelingmails with which they were encumbered, were evidently fitted for the receptionof as many menials, who were, seemingly, already waiting the pleasure of thosethey served. At a respectful distance from this unusual show, were gathereddivers groups of curious idlers; some admiring the blood and bone of thehigh-mettled military charger, and others gazing at the preparations, with thedull wonder of vulgar curiosity. There was one man, however, who, by hiscountenance and actions, formed a marked exception to those who composed thelatter class of spectators, being neither idle, nor seemingly very ignorant.

The person of this individual was to the last degree ungainly, without being inany particular manner deformed. He had all the bones and joints of other men,without any of their proportions. Erect, his stature surpassed that of hisfellows; though seated, he appeared reduced within the ordinary limits of therace. The same contrariety in his members seemed to exist throughout the wholeman. 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 havebeen considered tremendous, had they not been outdone by the broaderfoundations on which this false superstructure of blended human orders was soprofanely reared. The ill-assorted and injudicious attire of the individualonly served to render his awkwardness more conspicuous. A sky-blue coat, withshort and broad skirts and low cape, exposed a long, thin neck, and longer andthinner legs, to the worst animadversions of the evil-disposed. His nethergarment was a yellow nankeen, closely fitted to the shape, and tied at hisbunches 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 platedspur, completed the costume of the lower extremity of this figure, no curve orangle 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 forsome mischievous and unknown implement of war. Small as it was, this uncommonengine had excited the curiosity of most of the Europeans in the camp, thoughseveral of the provincials were seen to handle it, not only without fear, butwith the utmost familiarity. A large, civil cocked hat, like those worn byclergymen within the last thirty years, surmounted the whole, furnishingdignity to a good-natured and somewhat vacant countenance, that apparentlyneeded such artificial aid, to support the gravity of some high andextraordinary trust.

While the common herd stood aloof, in deference to the quarters of Webb, thefigure we have described stalked into the center of the domestics, freelyexpressing his censures or commendations on the merits of the horses, as bychance they displeased or satisfied his judgment.

“This beast, I rather conclude, friend, is not of home raising, but isfrom foreign lands, or perhaps from the little island itself over the bluewater?” he said, in a voice as remarkable for the softness and sweetnessof its tones, as was his person for its rare proportions; “I may speak ofthese things, and be no braggart; for I have been down at both havens; thatwhich is situate at the mouth of Thames, and is named after the capital of OldEngland, and that which is called ‘Haven’, with the addition of theword ‘New’; and have seen the scows and brigantines collectingtheir droves, like the gathering to the ark, being outward bound to the Islandof Jamaica, for the purpose of barter and traffic in four-footed animals; butnever before have I beheld a beast which verified the true scripture war-horselike this: ‘He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength; hegoeth on to meet the armed men. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and hesmelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and theshouting.’ It would seem that the stock of the horse of Israel haddescended to our own time; would it not, friend?”

Receiving no reply to this extraordinary appeal, which in truth, as it wasdelivered with the vigor of full and sonorous tones, merited some sort ofnotice, he who had thus sung forth the language of the holy book turned to thesilent figure to whom he had unwittingly addressed himself, and found a new andmore powerful subject of admiration in the object that encountered his gaze.His eyes fell on the still, upright, and rigid form of the “Indianrunner,” who had borne to the camp the unwelcome tidings of the precedingevening. Although in a state of perfect repose, and apparently disregarding,with characteristic stoicism, the excitement and bustle around him, there was asullen fierceness mingled with the quiet of the savage, that was likely toarrest the attention of much more experienced eyes than those which now scannedhim, in unconcealed amazement. The native bore both the tomahawk and knife ofhis tribe; and yet his appearance was not altogether that of a warrior. On thecontrary, there was an air of neglect about his person, like that which mighthave proceeded from great and recent exertion, which he had not yet foundleisure to repair. The colors of the war-paint had blended in dark confusionabout his fierce countenance, and rendered his swarthy lineaments still moresavage and repulsive than if art had attempted an effect which had been thusproduced by chance. His eye, alone, which glistened like a fiery star amidlowering clouds, was to be seen in its state of native wildness. For a singleinstant 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, itremained fixed, as if penetrating the distant air.

It is impossible to say what unlooked-for remark this short and silentcommunication, between two such singular men, might have elicited from thewhite man, had not his active curiosity been again drawn to other objects. Ageneral movement among the domestics, and a low sound of gentle voices,announced the approach of those whose presence alone was wanted to enable thecavalcade to move. The simple admirer of the war-horse instantly fell back to alow, gaunt, switch-tailed mare, that was unconsciously gleaning the fadedherbage of the camp nigh by; where, leaning with one elbow on the blanket thatconcealed 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 thesame 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 thefatigues of a journey in the woods. One, and she was the more juvenile in herappearance, though both were young, permitted glimpses of her dazzlingcomplexion, fair golden hair, and bright blue eyes, to be caught, as sheartlessly suffered the morning air to blow aside the green veil which descendedlow from her beaver.

The flush which still lingered above the pines in the western sky was not morebright nor delicate than the bloom on her cheek; nor was the opening day morecheering than the animated smile which she bestowed on the youth, as heassisted her into the saddle. The other, who appeared to share equally in theattention of the young officer, concealed her charms from the gaze of thesoldiery with a care that seemed better fitted to the experience of four orfive additional years. It could be seen, however, that her person, thoughmolded with the same exquisite proportions, of which none of the graces werelost by the traveling dress she wore, was rather fuller and more mature thanthat of her companion.

No sooner were these females seated, than their attendant sprang lightly intothe saddle of the war-horse, when the whole three bowed to Webb, who incourtesy, awaited their parting on the threshold of his cabin and turning theirhorses’ heads, they proceeded at a slow amble, followed by their train,toward the northern entrance of the encampment. As they traversed that shortdistance, not a voice was heard among them; but a slight exclamation proceededfrom 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 thissudden 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 anindescribable look of pity, admiration, and horror, as her dark eye followedthe easy motions of the savage. The tresses of this lady were shining andblack, like the plumage of the raven. Her complexion was not brown, but itrather appeared charged with the color of the rich blood, that seemed ready toburst its bounds. And yet there was neither coarseness nor want of shadowing ina countenance that was exquisitely regular, and dignified and surpassinglybeautiful. 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 onewhose thoughts were abstracted from the scene around her.

CHAPTER II.

“Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola!”
—Shakespeare

While one of the lovely beings we have so cursorily presented to the reader wasthus lost in thought, the other quickly recovered from the alarm which inducedthe exclamation, and, laughing at her own weakness, she inquired of the youthwho rode by her side:

“Are such specters frequent in the woods, Heyward, or is this sight anespecial entertainment ordered on our behalf? If the latter, gratitude mustclose our mouths; but if the former, both Cora and I shall have need to drawlargely on that stock of hereditary courage which we boast, even before we aremade to encounter the redoubtable Montcalm.”

“Yon Indian is a ‘runner’ of the army; and, after the fashionof 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, byconsequence, more agreeably.”

“I like him not,” said the lady, shuddering, partly in assumed, yetmore in real terror. “You know him, Duncan, or you would not trustyourself so freely to his keeping?”

“Say, rather, Alice, that I would not trust you. I do know him, or hewould not have my confidence, and least of all at this moment. He is said to bea Canadian too; and yet he served with our friends the Mohawks, who, as youknow, are one of the six allied nations. He was brought among us, as I haveheard, by some strange accident in which your father was interested, and inwhich the savage was rigidly dealt by; but I forget the idle tale, it isenough, 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, MajorHeyward, that I may hear his tones? Foolish though it may be, you have oftenheard 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 beignorant of the English; and least of all will he condescend to speak it, nowthat the war demands the utmost exercise of his dignity. But he stops; theprivate path by which we are to journey is, doubtless, at hand.”

The conjecture of Major Heyward was true. When they reached the spot where theIndian stood, pointing into the thicket that fringed the military road; anarrow and blind path, which might, with some little inconvenience, receive oneperson 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 toapprehend.”

“Cora, what think you?” asked the reluctant fair one. “If wejourney with the troops, though we may find their presence irksome, shall wenot feel better assurance of our safety?”

“Being little accustomed to the practices of the savages, Alice, youmistake the place of real danger,” said Heyward. “If enemies havereached the portage at all, a thing by no means probable, as our scouts areabroad, they will surely be found skirting the column, where scalps abound themost. The route of the detachment is known, while ours, having been determinedwithin the hour, must still be secret.”

“Should we distrust the man because his manners are not our manners, andthat his skin is dark?” coldly asked Cora.

Alice hesitated no longer; but giving her Narrangansett^[1]a smart cut of the whip, she was the first to dash aside the slight branches ofthe bushes, and to follow the runner along the dark and tangled pathway. Theyoung man regarded the last speaker in open admiration, and even permitted herfairer, though certainly not more beautiful companion, to proceed unattended,while he sedulously opened the way himself for the passage of her who has beencalled 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 theirguide, in order to diminish the marks of their trail, if, haply, the Canadiansavages should be lurking so far in advance of their army. For many minutes theintricacy of the route admitted of no further dialogue; after which theyemerged from the broad border of underbrush which grew along the line of thehighway, and entered under the high but dark arches of the forest. Here theirprogress was less interrupted; and the instant the guide perceived that thefemales could command their steeds, he moved on, at a pace between a trot and awalk, and at a rate which kept the sure-footed and peculiar animals they rodeat 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 brokenway in his rear, caused him to check his charger; and, as his companions drewtheir reins at the same instant, the whole party came to a halt, in order toobtain an explanation of the unlooked-for interruption.

[1]In the state of Rhode Island there is a bay called Narragansett, so namedafter a powerful tribe of Indians, which formerly dwelt on its banks. Accident,or one of those unaccountable freaks which nature sometimes plays in the animalworld, 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 arestill, in much request as saddle horses, on account of their hardiness and theease of their movements. As they were also sure of foot, the Narragansetts weregreatly sought for by females who were obliged to travel over the roots andholes in the “new countries.”

In a few moments a colt was seen gliding, like a fallow deer, among thestraight trunks of the pines; and, in another instant, the person of theungainly man, described in the preceding chapter, came into view, with as muchrapidity as he could excite his meager beast to endure without coming to anopen rupture. Until now this personage had escaped the observation of thetravelers. If he possessed the power to arrest any wandering eye whenexhibiting the glories of his altitude on foot, his equestrian graces werestill more likely to attract attention.

Notwithstanding a constant application of his one armed heel to the flanks ofthe mare, the most confirmed gait that he could establish was a Canterburygallop with the hind legs, in which those more forward assisted for doubtfulmoments, though generally content to maintain a loping trot. Perhaps therapidity of the changes from one of these paces to the other created an opticalillusion, which might thus magnify the powers of the beast; for it is certainthat 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 pursuerworked his sinuous way on his footsteps with such persevering hardihood.

The industry and movements of the rider were not less remarkable than those ofthe ridden. At each change in the evolutions of the latter, the former raisedhis tall person in the stirrups; producing, in this manner, by the undueelongation of his legs, such sudden growths and diminishings of the stature, asbaffled every conjecture that might be made as to his dimensions. If to this beadded 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 theaggrieved flank was resolutely indicated by unremitted flourishes of a bushytail, we finish the picture of both horse and man.

The frown which had gathered around the handsome, open, and manly brow ofHeyward, gradually relaxed, and his lips curled into a slight smile, as heregarded the stranger. Alice made no very powerful effort to control hermerriment; and even the dark, thoughtful eye of Cora lighted with a humor thatit would seem, the habit, rather than the nature, of its mistress repressed.

“Seek you any here?” demanded Heyward, when the other had arrivedsufficiently nigh to abate his speed; “I trust you are no messenger ofevil tidings?”

“Even so,” replied the stranger, making diligent use of histriangular castor, to produce a circulation in the close air of the woods, andleaving his hearers in doubt to which of the young man’s questions heresponded; when, however, he had cooled his face, and recovered his breath, hecontinued, “I hear you are riding to William Henry; as I am journeyingthitherward myself, I concluded good company would seem consistent to thewishes of both parties.”

“You appear to possess the privilege of a casting vote,” returnedHeyward; “we are three, while you have consulted no one butyourself.”

“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,” saidHeyward, haughtily; “the highway thither is at least half a mile behindyou.”

“Even so,” returned the stranger, nothing daunted by this coldreception; “I have tarried at ‘Edward’ a week, and I shouldbe dumb not to have inquired the road I was to journey; and if dumb there wouldbe an end to my calling.” After simpering in a small way, like one whosemodesty prohibited a more open expression of his admiration of a witticism thatwas perfectly unintelligible to his hearers, he continued, “It is notprudent for any one of my profession to be too familiar with those he has toinstruct; for which reason I follow not the line of the army; besides which, Iconclude that a gentleman of your character has the best judgment in matters ofwayfaring; I have, therefore, decided to join company, in order that the ridemay 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 theother’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 ofdefense and offense; or, perhaps, you are one who draws lines and angles, underthe pretense of expounding the mathematics?”

The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment in wonder; and then, losingevery mark of self-satisfaction in an expression of solemn humility, heanswered:

“Of offense, I hope there is none, to either party: of defense, I makenone—by God’s good mercy, having committed no palpable sin sincelast entreating his pardoning grace. I understand not your allusions aboutlines and angles; and I leave expounding to those who have been called and setapart for that holy office. I lay claim to no higher gift than a small insightinto the glorious art of petitioning and thanksgiving, as practiced inpsalmody.”

“The man is, most manifestly, a disciple of Apollo,” cried theamused 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 tojourney in our train. Besides,” she added, in a low and hurried voice,casting a glance at the distant Cora, who slowly followed the footsteps oftheir silent, but sullen guide, “it may be a friend added to ourstrength, 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 ifhe ‘hath music in his soul’, let us not churlishly reject hiscompany.” She pointed persuasively along the path with her riding whip,while their eyes met in a look which the young man lingered a moment toprolong; then, yielding to her gentle influence, he clapped his spurs into hischarger, and in a few bounds was again at the side of Cora.

“I am glad to encounter thee, friend,” continued the maiden, wavingher hand to the stranger to proceed, as she urged her Narragansett to renew itsamble. “Partial relatives have almost persuaded me that I am not entirelyworthless in a duet myself; and we may enliven our wayfaring by indulging inour favorite pursuit. It might be of signal advantage to one, ignorant as I, tohear the opinions and experience of a master in the art.”

“It is refreshing both to the spirits and to the body to indulge inpsalmody, in befitting seasons,” returned the master of song,unhesitatingly complying with her intimation to follow; “and nothingwould relieve the mind more than such a consoling communion. But four parts arealtogether necessary to the perfection of melody. You have all themanifestations of a soft and rich treble; I can, by especial aid, carry a fulltenor to the highest letter; but we lack counter and bass! Yon officer of theking, who hesitated to admit me to his company, might fill the latter, if onemay judge from the intonations of his voice in common dialogue.”

“Judge not too rashly from hasty and deceptive appearances,” saidthe lady, smiling; “though Major Heyward can assume such deep notes onoccasion, believe me, his natural tones are better fitted for a mellow tenorthan the bass you heard.”

“Is he, then, much practiced in the art of psalmody?” demanded hersimple companion.

Alice felt disposed to laugh, though she succeeded in suppressing hermerriment, ere she answered:

“I apprehend that he is rather addicted to profane song. The chances of asoldier’s life are but little fitted for the encouragement of more soberinclinations.”

“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, likethe youth of the royal David, for the purposes of music, no syllable of rudeverse 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 thepsalmody 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 thethoughts and the wishes of the King of Israel himself; for though the times maycall for some slight changes, yet does this version which we use in thecolonies of New England so much exceed all other versions, that, by itsrichness, its exactness, and its spiritual simplicity, it approacheth, as nearas may be, to the great work of the inspired writer. I never abide in anyplace, sleeping or waking, without an example of this gifted work. ’Tisthe six-and-twentieth edition, promulgated at Boston, Anno Domini 1744; and isentitled, ‘The Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old and NewTestaments; faithfully translated into English Metre, for the Use, Edification,and Comfort of the Saints, in Public and Private, especially in NewEngland’.”

During this eulogium on the rare production of his native poets, the strangerhad drawn the book from his pocket, and fitting a pair of iron-rimmedspectacles to his nose, opened the volume with a care and veneration suited toits sacred purposes. Then, without circumlocution or apology, first pronouncedthe word “Standish,” and placing the unknown engine, alreadydescribed, to his mouth, from which he drew a high, shrill sound, that wasfollowed by an octave below, from his own voice, he commenced singing thefollowing words, in full, sweet, and melodious tones, that set the music, thepoetry, 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 thestranger, by a regular rise and fall of his right hand, which terminated at thedescent, by suffering the fingers to dwell a moment on the leaves of the littlevolume; and on the ascent, by such a flourish of the member as none but theinitiated may ever hope to imitate. It would seem long practice had renderedthis manual accompaniment necessary; for it did not cease until the prepositionwhich the poet had selected for the close of his verse had been duly deliveredlike a word of two syllables.

Such an innovation on the silence and retirement of the forest could not failto 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 hismusical efforts.

“Though we are not in danger, common prudence would teach us to journeythrough this wilderness in as quiet a manner as possible. You will then, pardonme, Alice, should I diminish your enjoyments, by requesting this gentleman topostpone 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 andlanguage than that to which I have been listening; and I was far gone in alearned 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 herremark, “but I know that your safety, and that of Cora, is far dearer tome than could be any orchestra of Handel’s music.” He paused andturned his head quickly toward a thicket, and then bent his eyes suspiciouslyon their guide, who continued his steady pace, in undisturbed gravity. Theyoung man smiled to himself, for he believed he had mistaken some shining berryof the woods for the glistening eyeballs of a prowling savage, and he rodeforward, continuing the conversation which had been interrupted by the passingthought.

Major Heyward was mistaken only in suffering his youthful and generous pride tosuppress his active watchfulness. The cavalcade had not long passed, before thebranches of the bushes that formed the thicket were cautiously moved asunder,and a human visage, as fiercely wild as savage art and unbridled passions couldmake it, peered out on the retiring footsteps of the travelers. A gleam ofexultation shot across the darkly-painted lineaments of the inhabitant of theforest, as he traced the route of his intended victims, who rode unconsciouslyonward, the light and graceful forms of the females waving among the trees, inthe curvatures of their path, followed at each bend by the manly figure ofHeyward, until, finally, the shapeless person of the singing master wasconcealed behind the numberless trunks of trees, that rose, in dark lines, inthe intermediate space.

CHAPTER III.

“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 penetratestill deeper into a forest that contained such treacherous inmates, we must usean author’s privilege, and shift the scene a few miles to the westward ofthe 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 whoawaited the appearance of an absent person, or the approach of some expectedevent. 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. Therays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and the intense heat of theday was lessened, as the cooler vapors of the springs and fountains rose abovetheir leafy beds, and rested in the atmosphere. Still that breathing silence,which marks the drowsy sultriness of an American landscape in July, pervadedthe secluded spot, interrupted only by the low voices of the men, theoccasional 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. Thesefeeble and broken sounds were, however, too familiar to the foresters to drawtheir attention from the more interesting matter of their dialogue. While oneof these loiterers showed the red skin and wild accouterments of a native ofthe woods, the other exhibited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savageequipments, the brighter, though sun-burned and long-faced complexion of onewho might claim descent from a European parentage. The former was seated on theend of a mossy log, in a posture that permitted him to heighten the effect ofhis earnest language, by the calm but expressive gestures of an Indian engagedin debate. His body, which was nearly naked, presented a terrific emblem ofdeath, drawn in intermingled colors of white and black. His closely-shavedhead, on which no other hair than the well-known and chivalrous scalpingtuft^[1]was preserved, was without ornament of any kind, with the exception of asolitary eagle’s plume, that crossed his crown, and depended over theleft shoulder. A tomahawk and scalping knife, of English manufacture, were inhis girdle; while a short military rifle, of that sort with which the policy ofthe whites armed their savage allies, lay carelessly across his bare and sinewyknee. The expanded chest, full formed limbs, and grave countenance of thiswarrior, would denote that he had reached the vigor of his days, though nosymptoms of decay appeared to have yet weakened his manhood.

[1]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 mightavail himself of it, in wrenching off the scalp in the event of his fall. Thescalp was the only admissible trophy of victory. Thus, it was deemed moreimportant to obtain the scalp than to kill the man. Some tribes lay greatstress on the honor of striking a dead body. These practices have nearlydisappeared among the Indians of the Atlantic states.

The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were not concealed by hisclothes, was like that of one who had known hardships and exertion from hisearliest youth. His person, though muscular, was rather attenuated than full;but every nerve and muscle appeared strung and indurated by unremitted exposureand toil. He wore a hunting shirt of forest-green, fringed with fadedyellow^[2],and a summer cap of skins which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore aknife in a girdle of wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments ofthe Indian, but no tomahawk. His moccasins were ornamented after the gayfashion of the natives, while the only part of his under dress which appearedbelow the hunting-frock was a pair of buckskin leggings, that laced at thesides, and which were gartered above the knees, with the sinews of a deer. Apouch and horn completed his personal accouterments, though a rifle of greatlength^[3], whichthe theory of the more ingenious whites had taught them was the most dangerousof all firearms, leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter,or scout, whichever he might be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, rovingwhile he spoke, on every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrustingthe sudden approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the symptoms ofhabitual suspicion, his countenance was not only without guile, but at themoment at which he is introduced, it was charged with an expression of sturdyhonesty.

[2]The hunting-shirt is a picturesque smock-frock, being shorter, and ornamentedwith fringes and tassels. The colors are intended to imitate the hues of thewood, with a view to concealment. Many corps of American riflemen have beenthus attired, and the dress is one of the most striking of modern times. Thehunting-shirt is frequently white.

[3]The rifle of the army is short; that of the hunter is always long.

“Even your traditions make the case in my favor, Chingachgook,” hesaid, speaking in the tongue which was known to all the natives who formerlyinhabited the country between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of which we shallgive a free translation for the benefit of the reader; endeavoring, at the sametime, to preserve some of the peculiarities, both of the individual and of thelanguage. “Your fathers came from the setting sun, crossed the bigriver^[4], foughtthe people of the country, and took the land; and mine came from the red sky ofthe morning, over the salt lake, and did their work much after the fashion thathad been set them by yours; then let God judge the matter between us, andfriends spare their words!”

[4]The Mississippi. The scout alludes to a tradition which is very popular amongthe tribes of the Atlantic states. Evidence of their Asiatic origin is deducedfrom the circumstances, though great uncertainty hangs over the whole historyof the Indians.

“My fathers fought with the naked red man!” returned the Indian,sternly, in the same language. “Is there no difference, Hawkeye, betweenthe stone-headed arrow of the warrior, and the leaden bullet with which youkill?”

“There is reason in an Indian, though nature has made him with a redskin!” said the white man, shaking his head like one on whom such anappeal to his justice was not thrown away. For a moment he appeared to beconscious of having the worst of the argument, then, rallying again, heanswered the objection of his antagonist in the best manner his limitedinformation would allow:

“I am no scholar, and I care not who knows it; but, judging from what Ihave seen, at deer chases and squirrel hunts, of the sparks below, I shouldthink a rifle in the hands of their grandfathers was not so dangerous as ahickory bow and a good flint-head might be, if drawn with Indian judgment, andsent 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 youngwarriors that the pale faces met the red men, painted for war and armed withthe stone hatchet and wooden gun?”

“I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts himself on his naturalprivileges, 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 sinewyhand, “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 inbooks 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 bravesoldier can call on his comrades to witness for the truth of his words. Inconsequence of this bad fashion, a man, who is too conscientious to misspendhis days among the women, in learning the names of black marks, may never hearof the deeds of his fathers, nor feel a pride in striving to outdo them. Formyself, I conclude the Bumppos could shoot, for I have a natural turn with arifle, which must have been handed down from generation to generation, as, ourholy commandments tell us, all good and evil gifts are bestowed; though Ishould be loath to answer for other people in such a matter. But every storyhas its two sides; so I ask you, Chingachgook, what passed, according to thetraditions of the red men, when our fathers first met?”

A silence of a minute succeeded, during which the Indian sat mute; then, fullof the dignity of his office, he commenced his brief tale, with a solemnitythat served to heighten its appearance of truth.

“Listen, Hawkeye, and your ear shall drink no lie. ’Tis what myfathers have said, and what the Mohicans have done.” He hesitated asingle instant, and bending a cautious glance toward his companion, hecontinued, in a manner that was divided between interrogation and assertion.“Does not this stream at our feet run toward the summer, until its watersgrow salt, and the current flows upward?”

“It can’t be denied that your traditions tell you true in boththese matters,” said the white man; “for I have been there, andhave seen them, though why water, which is so sweet in the shade, should becomebitter in the sun, is an alteration for which I have never been able toaccount.”

“And the current!” demanded the Indian, who expected his reply withthat sort of interest that a man feels in the confirmation of testimony, atwhich he marvels even while he respects it; “the fathers of Chingachgookhave 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, andclear enough. Six hours the waters run in, and six hours they run out, and thereason is this: when there is higher water in the sea than in the river, theyrun 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 theylie like my hand,” said the Indian, stretching the limb horizontallybefore him, “and then they run no more.”

“No honest man will deny it,” said the scout, a little nettled atthe implied distrust of his explanation of the mystery of the tides; “andI grant that it is true on the small scale, and where the land is level. Buteverything 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 youand I both know they are, having seen them; but when you come to spread waterover a great tract, like the sea, where the earth is round, how in reason canthe water be quiet? You might as well expect the river to lie still on thebrink of those black rocks a mile above us, though your own ears tell you thatit is tumbling over them at this very moment.”

If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, the Indian was far toodignified to betray his unbelief. He listened like one who was convinced, andresumed his narrative in his former solemn manner.

“We came from the place where the sun is hid at night, over great plainswhere the buffaloes live, until we reached the big river. There we fought theAlligewi, till the ground was red with their blood. From the banks of the bigriver to the shores of the salt lake, there was none to meet us. The Maquasfollowed at a distance. We said the country should be ours from the place wherethe water runs up no longer on this stream, to a river twenty sun’sjourney 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; wethrew them the bones.”

“All this I have heard and believe,” said the white man, observingthat the Indian paused; “but it was long before the English came into thecountry.”

“A pine grew then where this chestnut now stands. The first pale faceswho came among us spoke no English. They came in a large canoe, when my fathershad buried the tomahawk with the red men around them. Then, Hawkeye,” hecontinued, betraying his deep emotion, only by permitting his voice to fall tothose low, guttural tones, which render his language, as spoken at times, sovery musical; “then, Hawkeye, we were one people, and we were happy. Thesalt lake gave us its fish, the wood its deer, and the air its birds. We tookwives who bore us children; we worshipped the Great Spirit; and we kept theMaquas beyond the sound of our songs of triumph.”

“Know you anything of your own family at that time?” demanded thewhite. “But you are just a man, for an Indian; and as I suppose you holdtheir gifts, your fathers must have been brave warriors, and wise men at thecouncil-fire.”

“My tribe is the grandfather of nations, but I am an unmixed man. Theblood 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 earthseemed 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 theshores, until I, that am a chief and a Sagamore, have never seen the sun shinebut through the trees, and have never visited the graves of my fathers.”

“Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind,” returned the scout, agood deal touched at the calm suffering of his companion; “and they oftenaid a man in his good intentions; though, for myself, I expect to leave my ownbones 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 theDelaware country, so many summers since?”

“Where are the blossoms of those summers!—fallen, one by one; soall of my family departed, each in his turn, to the land of spirits. I am onthe hilltop and must go down into the valley; and when Uncas follows in myfootsteps there will no longer be any of the blood of the Sagamores, for my boyis the last of the Mohicans.”

“Uncas is here,” said another voice, in the same soft, gutturaltones, near his elbow; “who speaks to Uncas?”

The white man loosened his knife in his leathern sheath, and made aninvoluntary movement of the hand toward his rifle, at this sudden interruption;but the Indian sat composed, and without turning his head at the unexpectedsounds.

At the next instant, a youthful warrior passed between them, with a noiselessstep, and seated himself on the bank of the rapid stream. No exclamation ofsurprise escaped the father, nor was any question asked, or reply given, forseveral minutes; each appearing to await the moment when he might speak,without betraying womanish curiosity or childish impatience. The white manseemed to take counsel from their customs, and, relinquishing his grasp of therifle, he also remained silent and reserved. At length Chingachgook turned hiseyes slowly toward his son, and demanded:

“Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moccasins in thesewoods?”

“I have been on their trail,” replied the young Indian, “andknow that they number as many as the fingers of my two hands; but they lie hidlike cowards.”

“The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder,” said the whiteman, 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 towardthe setting sun; “they shall be driven like deer from their bushes.Hawkeye, let us eat to-night, and show the Maquas that we are mento-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 toget the game—talk of the devil and he will come; there is a pair of thebiggest 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 ofinward sound, like one who had learned to be watchful, “I will bet mycharger three times full of powder, against a foot of wampum, that I take himatwixt the eyes, and nearer to the right than to the left.”

“It cannot be!” said the young Indian, springing to his feet withyouthful eagerness; “all but the tips of his horns are hid!”

“He’s a boy!” said the white man, shaking his head while hespoke, and addressing the father. “Does he think when a hunter sees apart of the creature’, he can’t tell where the rest of him shouldbe!”

Adjusting his rifle, he was about to make an exhibition of that skill on whichhe 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 byinstinct!” returned the scout, dropping his rifle, and turning away likea man who was convinced of his error. “I must leave the buck to yourarrow, Uncas, or we may kill a deer for them thieves, the Iroquois, toeat.”

The instant the father seconded this intimation by an expressive gesture of thehand, Uncas threw himself on the ground, and approached the animal with warymovements. When within a few yards of the cover, he fitted an arrow to his bowwith the utmost care, while the antlers moved, as if their owner snuffed anenemy in the tainted air. In another moment the twang of the cord was heard, awhite streak was seen glancing into the bushes, and the wounded buck plungedfrom the cover, to the very feet of his hidden enemy. Avoiding the horns of theinfuriated animal, Uncas darted to his side, and passed his knife across thethroat, when bounding to the edge of the river it fell, dyeing the waters withits blood.

“’Twas done with Indian skill,” said the scout laughinginwardly, but with vast satisfaction; “and ’twas a pretty sight tobehold! Though an arrow is a near shot, and needs a knife to finish thework.”

“Hugh!” ejaculated his companion, turning quickly, like a hound whoscented game.

“By the Lord, there is a drove of them!” exclaimed the scout, whoseeyes began to glisten with the ardor of his usual occupation; “if theycome within range of a bullet I will drop one, though the whole Six Nationsshould be lurking within sound! What do you hear, Chingachgook? for to my earsthe woods are dumb.”

“There is but one deer, and he is dead,” said the Indian, bendinghis body till his ear nearly touched the earth. “I hear the sounds offeet!”

“Perhaps the wolves have driven the buck to shelter, and are following onhis 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 formercomposure. “Hawkeye, they are your brothers; speak to them.”

“That I will, and in English that the king needn’t be ashamed toanswer,” returned the hunter, speaking in the language of which heboasted; “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 aman who, his very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood, although he mayhave lived with the red skins long enough to be suspected! Ha! there goessomething like the cracking of a dry stick, too—now I hear the bushesmove—yes, yes, there is a trampling that I mistook for thefalls—and—but here they come themselves; God keep them from theIroquois!”

CHAPTER IV.

“Well go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury.”—Midsummer Night’sDream.

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, cameopenly into view. A beaten path, such as those made by the periodical passageof the deer, wound through a little glen at no great distance, and struck theriver at the point where the white man and his red companions had postedthemselves. Along this track the travelers, who had produced a surprise sounusual in the depths of the forest, advanced slowly toward the hunter, who wasin front of his associates, in readiness to receive them.

“Who comes?” demanded the scout, throwing his rifle carelesslyacross his left arm, and keeping the forefinger of his right hand on thetrigger, though he avoided all appearance of menace in the act. “Whocomes 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 risingsun, in the shades of this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired oftheir wayfaring.”

“You are, then, lost,” interrupted the hunter, “and havefound how helpless ’tis not to know whether to take the right hand or theleft?”

“Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide themthan we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess thestature without the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to a post of thecrown called William Henry?”

“Hoot!” shouted the scout, who did not spare his open laughter,though instantly checking the dangerous sounds he indulged his merriment atless risk of being overheard by any lurking enemies. “You are as much offthe scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer! WilliamHenry, 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 beforeWebb, who tarries there, instead of pushing into the defiles, and driving thissaucy 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 thepathway, in front of his companion.

“What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?” demanded a newspeaker; “the place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and ourdestination is the head of the lake.”

“Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way, for theroad across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a path, Icalculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the palace of the kinghimself.”

“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 totake us by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in hisknowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are.”

“An Indian lost in the woods!” said the scout, shaking his headdoubtingly; “When the sun is scorching the tree tops, and the watercourses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees will tell him in whatquarter the north star will shine at night. The woods are full of deer-pathswhich run to the streams and licks, places well known to everybody; nor havethe geese done their flight to the Canada waters altogether! ’Tis strangethat an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican and the bend in the river! Is he aMohawk?”

“Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace wasfarther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron.”

“Hugh!” exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who hadcontinued until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable, and apparentlyindifferent to what passed, but who now sprang to their feet with an activityand interest that had evidently got the better of their reserve by surprise.

“A Huron!” repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his head inopen distrust; “they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they areadopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds. Sinceyou trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only wonder that youhave not fallen in with more.”

“Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles inour front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk, and thathe 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 aMohican for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won’t all do,having suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women—butwhen they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for awarrior!”

“Enough of this,” said Heyward, impatiently; “I wish not toinquire into the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be astranger. You have not yet answered my question; what is our distance from themain army at Edward?”

“It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such ahorse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up andsun-down.”

“I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend,” saidHeyward, 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 spyof Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak theEnglish tongue that is an honest subject.”

“If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, youshould know of such a regiment of the king as the Sixtieth.”

“The Sixtieth! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans that Idon’t know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarletjacket.”

“Well, then, among other things, you may know the name of itsmajor?”

“Its major!” interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like onewho was proud of his trust. “If there is a man in the country who knowsMajor Effingham, he stands before you.”

“It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you name is thesenior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the companies ingarrison at William Henry.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from oneof the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to holdsuch rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to bleach; and yetthey 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 nowspeaks 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 thelake shore?”

“You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting tothe 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 foundin the rear.”

“I should like to look at the creature; if it is a true Iroquois I cantell him by his knavish look, and by his paint,” said the scout; steppingpast the charger of Heyward, and entering the path behind the mare of thesinging master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt to exact thematernal contribution. After shoving aside the bushes, and proceeding a fewpaces, he encountered the females, who awaited the result of the conferencewith anxiety, and not entirely without apprehension. Behind these, the runnerleaned against a tree, where he stood the close examination of the scout withan air unmoved, though with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itselfexcite fear. Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As herepassed the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answeringto the smile and nod of Alice with a look of open pleasure. Thence he went tothe side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless inquiryinto 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 norany other tribe can alter him,” he said, when he had regained his formerposition. “If we were alone, and you would leave that noble horse at themercy of the wolves to-night, I could show you the way to Edward myself, withinan hour, for it lies only about an hour’s journey hence; but with suchladies in your company ’tis impossible!”

“And why? They are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a fewmore miles.”

“’Tis a natural impossibility!” repeated the scout; “Iwouldn’t walk a mile in these woods after night gets into them, incompany with that runner, for the best rifle in the colonies. They are full ofoutlying Iroquois, and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well tobe my companion.”

“Think you so?” said Heyward, leaning forward in the saddle, anddropping his voice nearly to a whisper; “I confess I have not beenwithout my own suspicions, though I have endeavored to conceal them, andaffected a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my companions. Itwas because I suspected him that I would follow no longer; making him, as yousee, 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 cansee 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 histramping through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I should go backto him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and be dodging through thetrees like a frightened deer.”

“It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. Though, if Ifelt confident of his treachery—”

“’Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of anIroquois,” said the scout, throwing his rifle forward, by a sort ofinstinctive movement.

“Hold!” interrupted Heyward, “it will not do—we mustthink of some other scheme—and yet, I have much reason to believe therascal 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 redcompanions to his side. They spoke together earnestly in the Delaware language,though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the white man, which werefrequently directed towards the top of the sapling, it was evident he pointedout the situation of their hidden enemy. His companions were not long incomprehending his wishes, and laying aside their firearms, they parted, takingopposite sides of the path, and burying themselves in the thicket, with suchcautious 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 withoutbreaking his paint.”

“Nay,” said Heyward, proudly, “I will seize himmyself.”

“Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an Indian in thebushes!”

“I will dismount.”

“And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out of the stirrup, hewould wait for the other to be free? Whoever comes into the woods to deal withthe natives, must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to prosper in hisundertakings. Go, then; talk openly to the miscreant, and seem to believe himthe truest friend you have on ’arth.”

Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at the nature of theoffice he was compelled to execute. Each moment, however, pressed upon him aconviction of the critical situation in which he had suffered his invaluabletrust to be involved through his own confidence. The sun had alreadydisappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of his light^[1],were assuming a dusky hue, which keenly reminded him that the hour the savageusually chose for his most barbarous and remorseless acts of vengeance orhostility, was speedily drawing near. Stimulated by apprehension, he left thescout, who immediately entered into a loud conversation with the stranger thathad 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 wasother than the result of accident. Giving them reason to believe he was merelyemployed 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 ofthe place where the sullen runner still stood, leaning against the tree.

[1]The scene of this tale was in the 42d degree of latitude, where the twilightis never of long continuation.

“You may see, Magua,” he said, endeavoring to assume an air offreedom and confidence, “that the night is closing around us, and yet weare no nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb withthe 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, thatis acquainted with the deerpaths and by-ways of the woods, and who promises tolead 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 imperfectEnglish, “Is he alone?”

“Alone!” hesitatingly answered Heyward, to whom deception was toonew 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, coollyraising 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 Henryconcerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman thathis 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 willnot hear him, nor feel him, in the woods.”

“But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bidhim stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted withthe business of a man.”

“Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bonesof his fathers,” was the answer of the unmoved runner.

“Enough, Magua,” said Heyward; “are we not friends? Whyshould there be bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for yourservices when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest yourweary 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 arerefreshed we will proceed.”

“The pale faces make themselves dogs to their women,” muttered theIndian, in his native language, “and when they want to eat, theirwarriors 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 himselfdeliberately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of some former repast,and began to eat, though not without first bending his looks slowly andcautiously around him.

“This is well,” continued Heyward; “and Le Renard will havestrength and sight to find the path in the morning”; he paused, forsounds like the snapping of a dried stick, and the rustling of leaves, rosefrom the adjacent bushes, but recollecting himself instantly, he continued,“we must be moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in ourpath, and shut us out from the fortress.”

The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his eyes werefastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his nostrils expanded, andhis ears seemed even to stand more erect than usual, giving to him theappearance of a statue that was made to represent intense attention.

Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye, carelessly extricatedone of his feet from the stirrup, while he passed a hand toward the bear-skincovering of his holsters.

Every effort to detect the point most regarded by the runner was completelyfrustrated by the tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest asingle instant on any particular object, and which, at the same time, could behardly said to move. While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil cautiouslyraised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and guarded, that notthe slightest noise was produced by the change. Heyward felt it had now becomeincumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg over the saddle, he dismounted, witha determination to advance and seize his treacherous companion, trusting theresult to his own manhood. In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm, hestill preserved an air of calmness and friendship.

“Le Renard Subtil does not eat,” he said, using the appellation hehad found most flattering to the vanity of the Indian. “His corn is notwell parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be foundamong my own provisions that will help his appetite.”

Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He even suffered theirhands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his rivetedattitude of attention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward moving gentlyalong his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the young man, and, utteringa piercing cry, he darted beneath it, and plunged, at a single bound, into theopposite thicket. At the next instant the form of Chingachgook appeared fromthe bushes, looking like a specter in its paint, and glided across the path inswift pursuit. Next followed the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted bya sudden flash, that was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter’srifle.

CHAPTER V.

...”In such a night
Did This be 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. Thenrecollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he dashed aside thesurrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend his aid in the chase.Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards, he met the three forestersalready returning from their unsuccessful pursuit.

“Why so soon disheartened!” he exclaimed; “the scoundrel mustbe concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be secured. We are notsafe while he goes at large.”

“Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?” returned thedisappointed scout; “I heard the imp brushing over the dry leaves, like ablack 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 yetfor a reasoning aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I shouldcall it a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in thesematters, 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 ofJuly!”

“’Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!”

“No, no,” returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of thisopinion, “I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but the creature leapedthe 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, andputs life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But when it cuts theragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly, a stagnation of furtherleaping, 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 reddevil would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of his comrades, before youwere heated in the chase. It was an unthoughtful act in a man who has so oftenslept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece within soundof an ambushment! But then it was a natural temptation! ’twas verynatural! Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such fashion, too, aswill throw the cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent, or our scalps will bedrying in the wind in front of Montcalm’s marquee, ag’in this hourto-morrow.”

This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the cool assurance ofa man who fully comprehended, while he did not fear to face the danger, servedto remind Heyward of the importance of the charge with which he himself hadbeen intrusted. Glancing his eyes around, with a vain effort to pierce thegloom that was thickening beneath the leafy arches of the forest, he felt asif, cut off from human aid, his unresisting companions would soon lie at theentire mercy of those barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey, only waitedtill the gathering darkness might render their blows more fatally certain. Hisawakened imagination, deluded by the deceptive light, converted each wavingbush, or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and twenty timeshe fancied he could distinguish the horrid visages of his lurking foes, peeringfrom their hiding places, in never ceasing watchfulness of the movements of hisparty. Looking upward, he found that the thin fleecy clouds, which evening hadpainted on the blue sky, were already losing their faintest tints ofrose-color, while the imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where hestood, was to be traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded banks.

“What is to be done!” he said, feeling the utter helplessness ofdoubt 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 notthis sudden and earnest appeal. Though their dialogue was maintained in low andcautious sounds, but little above a whisper, Heyward, who now approached, couldeasily distinguish the earnest tones of the younger warrior from the moredeliberate speeches of his seniors. It was evident that they debated on thepropriety of some measure, that nearly concerned the welfare of the travelers.Yielding to his powerful interest in the subject, and impatient of a delay thatseemed fraught with so much additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to thedusky group, with an intention of making his offers of compensation moredefinite, when the white man, motioning with his hand, as if he conceded thedisputed point, turned away, saying in a sort of soliloquy, and in the Englishtongue:

“Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men to leave such harmlessthings to their fate, even though it breaks up the harboring place forever. Ifyou 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 thecunning of the devils who fill these woods,” calmly interrupted thescout, “but spare your offers of money, which neither you may live torealize, nor I to profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what man’sthoughts can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet, were nevermade for the wilderness, from harm, and that without hope of any otherrecompense but such as God always gives to upright dealings. First, you mustpromise two things, both in your own name and for your friends, or withoutserving you we shall only injure ourselves!”

“Name them.”

“The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what will happenand the other is, to keep the place where we shall take you, forever a secretfrom 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 theheart’s blood to a stricken deer!”

Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the scout, through theincreasing shadows of the evening, and he moved in his footsteps, swiftly,toward the place where he had left the remainder of the party. When theyrejoined the expecting and anxious females, he briefly acquainted them with theconditions of their new guide, and with the necessity that existed for theirhushing every apprehension in instant and serious exertions. Although hisalarming communication was not received without much secret terror by thelisteners, his earnest and impressive manner, aided perhaps by the nature ofthe danger, succeeded in bracing their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for andunusual trial. Silently, and without a moment’s delay, they permitted himto assist them from their saddles, and when they descended quickly to thewater’s edge, where the scout had collected the rest of the party, moreby the agency of expressive gestures than by any use of words.

“What to do with these dumb creatures!” muttered the white man, onwhom the sole control of their future movements appeared to devolve; “itwould be time lost to cut their throats, and cast them into the river; and toleave them here would be to tell the Mingoes that they have not far to seek tofind 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 theymust equal a horse’s speed to run down their chase. Ay, ay, that willblind their fireballs of eyes! Chingach—Hist! what stirs the bush?”

“The colt.”

“That colt, at least, must die,” muttered the scout, grasping atthe mane of the nimble beast, which easily eluded his hand; “Uncas, yourarrows!”

“Hold!” exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned animal, aloud,without regard to the whispering tones used by the others; “spare thefoal of Miriam! it is the comely offspring of a faithful dam, and wouldwillingly injure naught.”

“When men struggle for the single life God has given them,” saidthe scout, sternly, “even their own kind seem no more than the beasts ofthe 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 secondblows.”

The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were still audible, when thewounded foal, first rearing on its hinder legs, plunged forward to its knees.It was met by Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its throat quicker thanthought, and then precipitating the motions of the struggling victim, he dashedinto the river, down whose stream it glided away, gasping audibly for breathwith 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 inwhich they stood, heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution ofthe 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 justdrawn from their holsters, as he placed himself between his charge and thosedense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil before the bosom of theforest.

The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the bridles, they ledthe frightened and reluctant horses into the bed of the river.

At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were soon concealed by theprojection of the bank, under the brow of which they moved, in a directionopposite to the course of the waters. In the meantime, the scout drew a canoeof bark from its place of concealment beneath some low bushes, whose brancheswere waving with the eddies of the current, into which he silently motioned forthe females to enter. They complied without hesitation, though many a fearfuland anxious glance was thrown behind them, toward the thickening gloom, whichnow lay like a dark barrier along the margin of the stream.

So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without regarding theelement, directed Heyward to support one side of the frail vessel, and postinghimself at the other, they bore it up against the stream, followed by thedejected 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 itseddies played around them, or the low dash made by their own cautiousfootsteps. Heyward yielded the guidance of the canoe implicitly to the scout,who approached or receded from the shore, to avoid the fragments of rocks, ordeeper parts of the river, with a readiness that showed his knowledge of theroute they held. Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathingstillness, that the dull but increasing roar of the waterfall only served torender more impressive, he would listen with painful intenseness, to catch anysounds that might arise from the slumbering forest. When assured that all wasstill, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his practiced senses, any signof his approaching foes, he would deliberately resume his slow and guardedprogress. At length they reached a point in the river where the roving eye ofHeyward became riveted on a cluster of black objects, collected at a spot wherethe high bank threw a deeper shadow than usual on the dark waters. Hesitatingto advance, he pointed out the place to the attention of his companion.

“Ay,” returned the composed scout, “the Indians have hid thebeasts with the judgment of natives! Water leaves no trail, and an owl’seyes would be blinded by the darkness of such a hole.”

The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation was held betweenthe scout and his new comrades, during which, they, whose fates depended on thefaith and ingenuity of these unknown foresters, had a little leisure to observetheir situation more minutely.

The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one of which impendedabove the spot where the canoe rested. As these, again, were surmounted by talltrees, which appeared to totter on the brows of the precipice, it gave thestream the appearance of running through a deep and narrow dell. All beneaththe fantastic limbs and ragged tree tops, which were, here and there, dimlypainted against the starry zenith, lay alike in shadowed obscurity. Behindthem, the curvature of the banks soon bounded the view by the same dark andwooded outline; but in front, and apparently at no great distance, the waterseemed piled against the heavens, whence it tumbled into caverns, out of whichissued 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 soothingimpression of security, as they gazed upon its romantic though not unappallingbeauties. A general movement among their conductors, however, soon recalledthem from a contemplation of the wild charms that night had assisted to lendthe place to a painful sense of their real peril.

The horses had been secured to some scattering shrubs that grew in the fissuresof the rocks, where, standing in the water, they were left to pass the night.The scout directed Heyward and his disconsolate fellow travelers to seatthemselves in the forward end of the canoe, and took possession of the otherhimself, as erect and steady as if he floated in a vessel of much firmermaterials. The Indians warily retraced their steps toward the place they hadleft, 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 thestruggle between the light bubble in which they floated and the swift currentwas severe and doubtful. Forbidden to stir even a hand, and almost afraid tobreath, lest they should expose the frail fabric to the fury of the stream, thepassengers watched the glancing waters in feverish suspense. Twenty times theythought the whirling eddies were sweeping them to destruction, when themaster-hand 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 theimpression that they were about to be swept within the vortex at the foot ofthe cataract, the canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, thatlay 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 youcame 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 littlebirchen bark and gum. There, go you all on the rock, and I will bring up theMohicans with the venison. A man had better sleep without his scalp, thanfamish in the midst of plenty.”

His passengers gladly complied with these directions. As the last foot touchedthe rock, the canoe whirled from its station, when the tall form of the scoutwas seen, for an instant, gliding above the waters, before it disappeared inthe impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of the river. Left by theirguide, the travelers remained a few minutes in helpless ignorance, afraid evento move along the broken rocks, lest a false step should precipitate them downsome one of the many deep and roaring caverns, into which the water seemed totumble, 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, andfloated again at the side of the low rock, before they thought the scout hadeven time to rejoin his companions.

“We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned,” cried Heywardcheerfully, “and may set Montcalm and his allies at defiance. How, now,my vigilant sentinel, can see anything of those you call the Iroquois, on themain land!”

“I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who speaks a foreigntongue, is accounted an enemy, though he may pretend to serve the king! If Webbwants faith and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of theDelawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and Oneidas, with their sixnations of varlets, where in nature they belong, among the French!”

“We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend! I have heardthat the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet, and are content to be calledwomen!”

“Aye, shame on the Hollanders and Iroquois, who circumvented them bytheir 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 whattheir enemies say, that you may sleep at night upon an easy pillow. No, no; tome, every Indian who speaks a foreign tongue is an Iroquois, whether thecastle^[1]of histribe be in Canada, or be in York.”

[1]The principal villages of the Indians are still called “castles”by the whites of New York. “Oneida castle” is no more than ascattered hamlet; but the name is in general use.

Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout to the cause ofhis friends the Delawares, or Mohicans, for they were branches of the samenumerous people, was likely to prolong a useless discussion, changed thesubject.

“Treaty or no treaty, I know full well that your two companions are braveand cautious warriors! have they heard or seen anything of our enemies?”

“An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,” returned thescout, ascending the rock, and throwing the deer carelessly down. “Itrust to other signs than such as come in at the eye, when I am outlying on thetrail 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 stoutcourage might hold for a smart scrimmage. I will not deny, however, but thehorses cowered when I passed them, as though they scented the wolves; and awolf is a beast that is apt to hover about an Indian ambushment, craving theoffals of the deer the savages kill.”

“You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their visit to thedead colt? Ha! what noise is that?”

“Poor Miriam!” murmured the stranger; “thy foal wasforeordained to become a prey to ravenous beasts!” Then, suddenly liftingup 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,” saidthe scout; “but it’s a good sign to see a man account upon his dumbfriends. He has the religion of the matter, in believing what is to happen willhappen; and with such a consolation, it won’t be long afore he submits tothe 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 ofHeyward’s last remark; “and the greater the reason why we shouldcut our steaks, and let the carcass drive down the stream, or we shall have thepack howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we swallow. Besides,though the Delaware tongue is the same as a book to the Iroquois, the cunningvarlets are quick enough at understanding the reason of a wolf’showl.”

The scout, while making his remarks, was busied in collecting certain necessaryimplements; as he concluded, he moved silently by the group of travelers,accompanied by the Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his intentions withinstinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared in succession, seemingto vanish against the dark face of a perpendicular rock that rose to the heightof a few yards, within as many feet of the water’s edge.

CHAPTER VI.

“Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide;
He wales a portion with judicious care;
And ‘Let us worship God’, he says, with solemnair.”—Burns

Heyward and his female companions witnessed this mysterious movement withsecret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of the white man had hitherto beenabove reproach, his rude equipments, blunt address, and strong antipathies,together with the character of his silent associates, were all causes forexciting distrust in minds that had been so recently alarmed by Indiantreachery.

The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. He seated himself on aprojection of the rocks, whence he gave no other signs of consciousness than bythe struggles of his spirit, as manifested in frequent and heavy sighs.Smothered voices were next heard, as though men called to each other in thebowels of the earth, when a sudden light flashed upon those without, and laidbare the much-prized secret of the place.

At the further extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the rock, whose lengthappeared much extended by the perspective and the nature of the light by whichit was seen, was seated the scout, holding a blazing knot of pine. The strongglare of the fire fell full upon his sturdy, weather-beaten countenance andforest attire, lending an air of romantic wildness to the aspect of anindividual, who, seen by the sober light of day, would have exhibited thepeculiarities of a man remarkable for the strangeness of his dress, theiron-like inflexibility of his frame, and the singular compound of quick,vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite simplicity, that by turns usurped thepossession of his muscular features. At a little distance in advance stoodUncas, his whole person thrown powerfully into view. The travelers anxiouslyregarded the upright, flexible figure of the young Mohican, graceful andunrestrained in the attitudes and movements of nature. Though his person wasmore than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-shirt, like that ofthe white man, there was no concealment to his dark, glancing, fearless eye,alike terrible and calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty features, purein 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 generousscalping tuft. It was the first opportunity possessed by Duncan and hiscompanions 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 theproud and determined, though wild expression of the features of the youngwarrior forced itself on their notice. They felt it might be a being partiallybenighted in the vale of ignorance, but it could not be one who would willinglydevote his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton treachery. Theingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and proud carriage, as she would havelooked upon some precious relic of the Grecian chisel, to which life had beenimparted by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward, though accustomed tosee the perfection of form which abounds among the uncorrupted natives, openlyexpressed his admiration at such an unblemished specimen of the noblestproportions of man.

“I could sleep in peace,” whispered Alice, in reply, “withsuch a fearless and generous-looking youth for my sentinel. Surely, Duncan,those cruel murders, those terrific scenes of torture, of which we read andhear so much, are never acted in the presence of such as he!”

“This certainly is a rare and brilliant instance of those naturalqualities in which these peculiar people are said to excel,” he answered.“I agree with you, Alice, in thinking that such a front and eye wereformed rather to intimidate than to deceive; but let us not practice adeception upon ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition of what we esteemvirtue than according to the fashion of the savage. As bright examples of greatqualities are but too uncommon among Christians, so are they singular andsolitary with the Indians; though, for the honor of our common nature, neitherare incapable of producing them. Let us then hope that this Mohican may notdisappoint our wishes, but prove what his looks assert him to be, a brave andconstant friend.”

“Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should,” said Cora;“who that looks at this creature of nature, remembers the shade of hisskin?”

A short and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this remark, which wasinterrupted by the scout calling to them, aloud, to enter.

“This fire begins to show too bright a flame,” he continued, asthey complied, “and might light the Mingoes to our undoing. Uncas, dropthe blanket, and show the knaves its dark side. This is not such a supper as amajor of the Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I’ve known stoutdetachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and without a relish,too^[1]. Here, yousee, we have plenty of salt, and can make a quick broil. There’s freshsassafras boughs for the ladies to sit on, which may not be as proud as theirmy-hog-guinea chairs, but which sends up a sweeter flavor, than the skin of anyhog 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 hadnot seen much hardship. Its death will save the creature many a sore back andweary foot!”

[1]In vulgar parlance the condiments of a repast are called by the American“a relish,” substituting the thing for its effect. These provincialterms are frequently put in the mouths of the speakers, according to theirseveral conditions in life. Most of them are of local use, and others quitepeculiar to the particular class of men to which the character belongs. In thepresent instance, the scout uses the word with immediate reference to the“salt,” with which his own party was so fortunate as to beprovided.

Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of Hawkeye ceased, theroar of the cataract sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder.

“Are we quite safe in this cavern?” demanded Heyward. “Isthere no danger of surprise? A single armed man, at its entrance, would hold usat 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 theirplace 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 Heywardcalmed 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 atright angles with the passage they were in, but which, unlike that, was open tothe heavens, and entered another cave, answering to the description of thefirst, in every essential particular.

“Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often caught in abarrow with one hole,” said Hawkeye, laughing; “you can easily seethe cunning of the place—the rock is black limestone, which everybodyknows is soft; it makes no uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood isscarce; well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to say was, inits 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 haveyet 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 workedout deep hollows for itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet,breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have neither shape norconsistency.”

“In what part of them are we?” asked Heyward.

“Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first placed them at, butwhere, it seems, they were too rebellious to stay. The rock proved softer oneach side of us, and so they left the center of the river bare and dry, firstworking 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 andbelow. If you had daylight, it would be worth the trouble to step up on theheight of this rock, and look at the perversity of the water. It falls by norule at all; sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles; there it skips; here itshoots; in one place ’tis white as snow, and in another ’tis greenas grass; hereabouts, it pitches into deep hollows, that rumble and crush the’arth; and thereaways, it ripples and sings like a brook, fashioningwhirlpools and gullies in the old stone, as if ’twas no harder thantrodden clay. The whole design of the river seems disconcerted. First it runssmoothly, as if meaning to go down the descent as things were ordered; then itangles about and faces the shores; nor are there places wanting where it looksbackward, 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 likea fishnet, to little spots I can show you, where the river fabricates all sortsof images, as if having broke loose from order, it would try its hand ateverything. And yet what does it amount to! After the water has been sufferedso to have its will, for a time, like a headstrong man, it is gathered togetherby the hand that made it, and a few rods below you may see it all, flowing onsteadily 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 placeof concealment from this untutored description of Glenn’s,^[2]they were much inclined to judge differently from Hawkeye, of its wildbeauties. But they were not in a situation to suffer their thoughts to dwell onthe charms of natural objects; and, as the scout had not found it necessary tocease his culinary labors while he spoke, unless to point out, with a brokenfork, the direction of some particularly obnoxious point in the rebelliousstream, they now suffered their attention to be drawn to the necessary thoughmore vulgar consideration of their supper.

[2]Glenn’s Falls are on the Hudson, some forty or fifty miles above thehead of tide, or that place where the river becomes navigable for sloops. Thedescription of this picturesque and remarkable little cataract, as given by thescout, is sufficiently correct, though the application of the water to uses ofcivilized life has materially injured its beauties. The rocky island and thetwo caverns are known to every traveler, since the former sustains the pier ofa bridge, which is now thrown across the river, immediately above the fall. Inexplanation of the taste of Hawkeye, it should be remembered that men alwaysprize that most which is least enjoyed. Thus, in a new country, the woods andother objects, which in an old country would be maintained at great cost, aregot 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 thatHeyward had the precaution to bring with him when they left their horses, wasexceedingly refreshing to the weary party. Uncas acted as attendant to thefemales, performing all the little offices within his power, with a mixture ofdignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse Heyward, who well knew that itwas an utter innovation on the Indian customs, which forbid their warriors todescend to any menial employment, especially in favor of their women. As therights of hospitality were, however, considered sacred among them, this littledeparture from the dignity of manhood excited no audible comment. Had therebeen one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close observer, he mighthave 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 atrencher, neatly carved from the knot of the pepperidge, with sufficientcourtesy, in performing the same offices to her sister, his dark eye lingeredon her rich, speaking countenance. Once or twice he was compelled to speak, tocommand the attention of those he served. In such cases he made use of English,broken and imperfect, but sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered somild and musical, by his deep, guttural voice, that it never failed to causeboth ladies to look up in admiration and astonishment. In the course of thesecivilities, a few sentences were exchanged, that served to establish theappearance of an amicable intercourse between the parties.

In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingcachgook remained immovable. He hadseated himself more within the circle of light, where the frequent, uneasyglances of his guests were better enabled to separate the natural expression ofhis face from the artificial terrors of the war paint. They found a strongresemblance between father and son, with the difference that might be expectedfrom age and hardships. The fierceness of his countenance now seemed toslumber, and in its place was to be seen the quiet, vacant composure whichdistinguishes an Indian warrior, when his faculties are not required for any ofthe greater purposes of his existence. It was, however, easy to be seen, by theoccasional gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that it was onlynecessary to arouse his passions, in order to give full effect to the terrificdevice which he had adopted to intimidate his enemies. On the other hand, thequick, roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank with an appetitethat no sense of danger could disturb, but his vigilance seemed never to deserthim. Twenty times the gourd or the venison was suspended before his lips, whilehis head was turned aside, as though he listened to some distant and distrustedsounds—a movement that never failed to recall his guests from regardingthe novelties of their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasonsthat had driven them to seek it. As these frequent pauses were never followedby any remark, the momentary uneasiness they created quickly passed away, andfor a time was forgotten.

“Come, friend,” said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg from beneath acover of leaves, toward the close of the repast, and addressing the strangerwho sat at his elbow, doing great justice to his culinary skill, “try alittle spruce; ’twill wash away all thoughts of the colt, and quicken thelife in your bosom. I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a littlehorse-flesh may leave no heart-burnings atween us. How do you nameyourself?”

“Gamut—David Gamut,” returned the singing master, preparingto wash down his sorrows in a powerful draught of the woodsman’shigh-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 belowsavage customs in this particular. The biggest coward I ever knew was calledLyon; and his wife, Patience, would scold you out of hearing in less time thana hunted deer would run a rod. With an Indian ’tis a matter ofconscience; what he calls himself, he generally is—not that Chingachgook,which signifies Big Sarpent, is really a snake, big or little; but that heunderstands the windings and turnings of human natur’, and is silent, andstrikes his enemies when they least expect him. What may be yourcalling?”

“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 singingtoo much already through the woods, when they ought not to breathe louder thana fox in his cover. Can you use the smoothbore, or handle the rifle?”

“Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle with murderousimplements!”

“Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down the watercourses andmountains of the wilderness on paper, in order that they who follow may findplaces by their given names?”

“I practice no such employment.”

“You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem short! youjourney sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the general.”

“Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which is instructionin sacred music!”

“’Tis a strange calling!” muttered Hawkeye, with an inwardlaugh, “to go through life, like a catbird, mocking all the ups and downsthat may happen to come out of other men’s throats. Well, friend, Isuppose it is your gift, and mustn’t be denied any more than if’twas shooting, or some other better inclination. Let us hear what youcan 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 along push, in the pride of the morning, afore the Maquas are stirring.”

“With joyful pleasure do I consent”, said David, adjusting hisiron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his beloved little volume, which heimmediately 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 suggestionof the worthy namesake of the Psalmist to have its weight at such amoment?”

Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious inclinations, and her keenrelish for gentle sounds, had before so strongly urged. The book was open at ahymn not ill adapted to their situation, and in which the poet, no longergoaded by his desire to excel the inspired King of Israel, had discovered somechastened and respectable powers. Cora betrayed a disposition to support hersister, and the sacred song proceeded, after the indispensable preliminaries ofthe 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 therich 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 theirmelody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and true ear of Davidgoverned and modified the sounds to suit the confined cavern, every crevice andcranny of which was filled with the thrilling notes of their flexible voices.The Indians riveted their eyes on the rocks, and listened with an attentionthat seemed to turn them into stone. But the scout, who had placed his chin inhis hand, with an expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his rigidfeatures to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron naturesubdued, while his recollection was carried back to boyhood, when his ears hadbeen accustomed to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the settlements ofthe colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before the hymn was endedscalding tears rolled out of fountains that had long seemed dry, and followedeach other down those cheeks, that had oftener felt the storms of heaven thanany testimonials of weakness. The singers were dwelling on one of those low,dying chords, which the ear devours with such greedy rapture, as if consciousthat it is about to lose them, when a cry, that seemed neither human norearthly, rose in the outward air, penetrating not only the recesses of thecavern, but to the inmost hearts of all who heard it. It was followed by astillness apparently as deep as if the waters had been checked in their furiousprogress, at such a horrid and unusual interruption.

“What is it?” murmured Alice, after a few moments of terriblesuspense.

“What is it?” murmured Alice, after a fewmoments of terrible suspense.

“What is it?” repeated Hewyard aloud.

Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. They listened, as if expectingthe sound would be repeated, with a manner that expressed their ownastonishment. At length they spoke together, earnestly, in the Delawarelanguage, 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 haveranged the woods for more than thirty years. I did believe there was no crythat Indian or beast could make, that my ears had not heard; but this hasproved that I was only a vain and conceited mortal.”

“Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when they wish tointimidate their enemies?” asked Cora who stood drawing her veil abouther 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; butwhen 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, shakinghis head in discontent; “and our hiding-place is still in darkness. Passinto the other cave, you that need it, and seek for sleep; we must be afootlong before the sun, and make the most of our time to get to Edward, while theMingoes are taking their morning nap.”

Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness that taught the moretimid Alice the necessity of obedience. Before leaving the place, however, shewhispered a request to Duncan, that he would follow. Uncas raised the blanketfor their passage, and as the sisters turned to thank him for this act ofattention, they saw the scout seated again before the dying embers, with hisface resting on his hands, in a manner which showed how deeply he brooded onthe unaccountable interruption which had broken up their evening devotions.

Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim light through thenarrow vista of their new apartment. Placing it in a favorable position, hejoined the females, who now found themselves alone with him for the first timesince they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort Edward.

“Leave us not, Duncan,” said Alice: “we cannot sleep in sucha place as this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our ears.”

“First let us examine into the security of your fortress,” heanswered, “and then we will speak of rest.”

He approached the further end of the cavern, to an outlet, which, like theothers, was concealed by blankets; and removing the thick screen, breathed thefresh and reviving air from the cataract. One arm of the river flowed through adeep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn in the soft rock, directlybeneath his feet, forming an effectual defense, as he believed, against anydanger 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,” hecontinued, pointing down the perpendicular declivity into the dark currentbefore he dropped the blanket; “and as you know that good men and trueare on guard in front I see no reason why the advice of our honest host shouldbe disregarded. I am certain Cora will join me in saying that sleep isnecessary to you both.”

“Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion though she cannot put itin practice,” returned the elder sister, who had placed herself by theside of Alice, on a couch of sassafras; “there would be other causes tochase 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 inthe midst of so many perils?”

“He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the chances of thewoods.”

“He is a father, and cannot deny his nature.”

“How kind has he ever been to all my follies, how tender and indulgent toall my wishes!” sobbed Alice. “We have been selfish, sister, inurging our visit at such hazard.”

“I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of muchembarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that however others mightneglect 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; thoughthe latter, heightened, if possible, by so long a separation, quicklyprevailed. ‘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 hewho holds the honor of our royal master in his guardianship, would show buthalf her firmness!’”

“And did he not speak of me, Heyward?” demanded Alice, with jealousaffection; “surely, he forgot not altogether his little Elsie?”

“That were impossible,” returned the young man; “he calledyou by a thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume to use, but to thejustice of which, I can warmly testify. Once, indeed, he said—”

Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on those of Alice, whohad turned toward him with the eagerness of filial affection, to catch hiswords, the same strong, horrid cry, as before, filled the air, and rendered himmute. A long, breathless silence succeeded, during which each looked at theothers in fearful expectation of hearing the sound repeated. At length, theblanket was slowly raised, and the scout stood in the aperture with acountenance whose firmness evidently began to give way before a mystery thatseemed to threaten some danger, against which all his cunning and experiencemight prove of no avail.

CHAPTER VII.

“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 liehid any longer,” said Hawkeye “when such sounds are raised in theforest. These gentle ones may keep close, but the Mohicans and I will watchupon the rock, where I suppose a major of the Sixtieth would wish to keep uscompany.”

“Is, then, our danger so pressing?” asked Cora.

“He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man’sinformation, alone knows our danger. I should think myself wicked, untorebellion against His will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air! Eventhe weak soul who passes his days in singing is stirred by the cry, and, as hesays, is ‘ready to go forth to the battle’ If ’twere only abattle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily managed; but Ihave heard that when such shrieks are atween heaven and ’arth, itbetokens another sort of warfare!”

“If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to such as proceedfrom supernatural causes, we have but little occasion to be alarmed,”continued the undisturbed Cora, “are you certain that our enemies havenot invented some new and ingenious method to strike us with terror, that theirconquest may become more easy?”

“Lady,” returned the scout, solemnly, “I have listened to allthe sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will listen whose life anddeath depend on the quickness of his ears. There is no whine of the panther, nowhistle of the catbird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that cancheat 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 branchesof the girdled trees; and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air likethe snapping of blazing brush as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames; butnever have I thought that I heard more than the pleasure of him who sportedwith the things of his hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a whiteman without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We, therefore, believe ita sign given for our good.”

“It is extraordinary!” said Heyward, taking his pistols from theplace where he had laid them on entering; “be it a sign of peace or asignal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I follow.”

On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party instantlyexperienced a grateful renovation of spirits, by exchanging the pent air of thehiding-place for the cool and invigorating atmosphere which played around thewhirlpools and pitches of the cataract. A heavy evening breeze swept along thesurface of the river, and seemed to drive the roar of the falls into therecesses of their own cavern, whence it issued heavily and constant, likethunder rumbling beyond the distant hills. The moon had risen, and its lightwas already glancing here and there on the waters above them; but the extremityof the rock where they stood still lay in shadow. With the exception of thesounds 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 nightand solitude could make it. In vain were the eyes of each individual bent alongthe opposite shores, in quest of some signs of life, that might explain thenature of the interruption they had heard. Their anxious and eager looks werebaffled by the deceptive light, or rested only on naked rocks, and straight andimmovable trees.

“Here is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet of a lovelyevening,” whispered Duncan; “how much should we prize such a scene,and all this breathing solitude, at any other moment, Cora! Fancy yourselves insecurity, and what now, perhaps, increases your terror, may be made conduciveto enjoyment—”

“Listen!” interrupted Alice.

The caution was unnecessary. Once more the same sound arose, as if from the bedof the river, and having broken out of the narrow bounds of the cliffs, washeard undulating through the forest, in distant and dying cadences.

“Can any here give a name to such a cry?” demanded Hawkeye, whenthe last echo was lost in the woods; “if so, let him speak; for myself, Ijudge it not to belong to ’arth!”

“Here, then, is one who can undeceive you,” said Duncan; “Iknow the sound full well, for often have I heard it on the field of battle, andin situations which are frequent in a soldier’s life. ’Tis thehorrid shriek that a horse will give in his agony; oftener drawn from him inpain, though sometimes in terror. My charger is either a prey to the beasts ofthe forest, or he sees his danger, without the power to avoid it. The soundmight deceive me in the cavern, but in the open air I know it too well to bewrong.”

The scout and his companions listened to this simple explanation with theinterest of men who imbibe new ideas, at the same time that they get rid of oldones, which had proved disagreeable inmates. The two latter uttered their usualexpressive exclamation, “hugh!” as the truth first glanced upontheir minds, while the former, after a short, musing pause, took upon himselfto reply.

“I cannot deny your words,” he said, “for I am little skilledin horses, though born where they abound. The wolves must be hovering abovetheir heads on the bank, and the timorsome creatures are calling on man forhelp, in the best manner they are able. Uncas”—he spoke inDelaware—“Uncas, drop down in the canoe, and whirl a brand amongthe pack; or fear may do what the wolves can’t get at to perform, andleave us without horses in the morning, when we shall have so much need tojourney swiftly!”

The young native had already descended to the water to comply, when a long howlwas raised on the edge of the river, and was borne swiftly off into the depthsof the forest, as though the beasts, of their own accord, were abandoning theirprey in sudden terror. Uncas, with instinctive quickness, receded, and thethree foresters held another of their low, earnest conferences.

“We have been like hunters who have lost the points of the heavens, andfrom whom the sun has been hid for days,” said Hawkeye, turning away fromhis companions; “now we begin again to know the signs of our course, andthe paths are cleared from briers! Seat yourselves in the shade which the moonthrows from yonder beech—’tis thicker than that of thepines—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 longerdistinguished by any signs of unmanly apprehension. It was evident that hismomentary weakness had vanished with the explanation of a mystery which his ownexperience had not served to fathom; and though he now felt all the realitiesof their actual condition, that he was prepared to meet them with the energy ofhis hardy nature. This feeling seemed also common to the natives, who placedthemselves in positions which commanded a full view of both shores, while theirown persons were effectually concealed from observation. In such circumstances,common prudence dictated that Heyward and his companions should imitate acaution that proceeded from so intelligent a source. The young man drew a pileof the sassafras from the cave, and placing it in the chasm which separated thetwo caverns, it was occupied by the sisters, who were thus protected by therocks from any missiles, while their anxiety was relieved by the assurance thatno danger could approach without a warning. Heyward himself was posted at hand,so near that he might communicate with his companions without raising his voiceto a dangerous elevation; while David, in imitation of the woodsmen, bestowedhis person in such a manner among the fissures of the rocks, that his ungainlylimbs were no longer offensive to the eye.

In this manner hours passed without further interruption. The moon reached thezenith, and shed its mild light perpendicularly on the lovely sight of thesisters slumbering peacefully in each other’s arms. Duncan cast the wideshawl of Cora before a spectacle he so much loved to contemplate, and thensuffered his own head to seek a pillow on the rock. David began to utter soundsthat would have shocked his delicate organs in more wakeful moments; in short,all but Hawkeye and the Mohicans lost every idea of consciousness, inuncontrollable drowsiness. But the watchfulness of these vigilant protectorsneither tired nor slumbered. Immovable as that rock, of which each appeared toform a part, they lay, with their eyes roving, without intermission, along thedark 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 theybreathed. It was evident that this excess of caution proceeded from anexperience 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 rockand shook Duncan from his heavy slumbers.

“Now is the time to journey,” he whispered; “awake the gentleones, and be ready to get into the canoe when I bring it to thelanding-place.”

“Have you had a quiet night?” said Heyward; “for myself, Ibelieve 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 shawlfrom the sleeping females. The motion caused Cora to raise her hand as if torepulse 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 otherstanding upright before him, in bewildered horror, was the unexpected answer hereceived.

While the words were still on the lips of Heyward, there had arisen such atumult of yells and cries as served to drive the swift currents of his ownblood 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 airabout them, and were venting their savage humors in barbarous sounds. The criescame from no particular direction, though it was evident they filled the woods,and, as the appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of the falls, therocks, the bed of the river, and the upper air. David raised his tall person inthe midst of the infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming:

“Whence comes this discord! Has hell broke loose, that man should uttersounds like these!”

The bright flashes and the quick reports of a dozen rifles, from the oppositebanks of the stream, followed this incautious exposure of his person, and leftthe unfortunate singing master senseless on that rock where he had been so longslumbering. The Mohicans boldly sent back the intimidating yell of theirenemies, who raised a shout of savage triumph at the fall of Gamut. The flashof rifles was then quick and close between them, but either party was too wellskilled to leave even a limb exposed to the hostile aim. Duncan listened withintense anxiety for the strokes of the paddle, believing that flight was nowtheir only refuge. The river glanced by with its ordinary velocity, but thecanoe was nowhere to be seen on its dark waters. He had just fancied they werecruelly deserted by their scout, as a stream of flame issued from the rockbeneath them, and a fierce yell, blended with a shriek of agony, announced thatthe messenger of death sent from the fatal weapon of Hawkeye, had found avictim. At this slight repulse the assailants instantly withdrew, and graduallythe place became as still as before the sudden tumult.

Duncan seized the favorable moment to spring to the body of Gamut, which hebore within the shelter of the narrow chasm that protected the sisters. Inanother minute the whole party was collected in this spot of comparativesafety.

“The poor fellow has saved his scalp,” said Hawkeye, coolly passinghis hand over the head of David; “but he is a proof that a man may beborn with too long a tongue! ’Twas downright madness to show six feet offlesh and blood, on a naked rock, to the raging savages. I only wonder he hasescaped with life.”

“Is he not dead?” demanded Cora, in a voice whose husky tonesshowed 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 hewill come to himself, and be a wiser man for it, till the hour of his real timeshall come,” returned Hawkeye, casting another oblique glance at theinsensible body, while he filled his charger with admirable nicety.“Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him on the sassafras. The longer his naplasts the better it will be for him, as I doubt whether he can find a propercover for such a shape on these rocks; and singing won’t do any good withthe Iroquois.”

“You believe, then, the attack will be renewed?” asked Heyward.

“Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving with a mouthful! Theyhave lost a man, and ’tis their fashion, when they meet a loss, and failin the surprise, to fall back; but we shall have them on again, with newexpedients to circumvent us, and master our scalps. Our main hope,” hecontinued, raising his rugged countenance, across which a shade of anxiety justthen passed like a darkening cloud, “will be to keep the rock until Munrocan send a party to our help! God send it may be soon and under a leader thatknows the Indian customs!”

“You hear our probable fortunes, Cora,” said Duncan, “and youknow 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 safefrom the murderous rifles of our enemies, and where you may bestow a caresuited to your gentle natures on our unfortunate comrade.”

The sisters followed him into the outer cave, where David was beginning, by hissighs, to give symptoms of returning consciousness, and then commending thewounded man to their attention, he immediately prepared to leave them.

“Duncan!” said the tremulous voice of Cora, when he had reached themouth of the cavern. He turned and beheld the speaker, whose color had changedto a deadly paleness, and whose lips quivered, gazing after him, with anexpression of interest which immediately recalled him to her side.“Remember, Duncan, how necessary your safety is to our own—how youbear a father’s sacred trust—how much depends on your discretionand care—in short,” she added, while the telltale blood stole overher features, crimsoning her very temples, “how very deservedly dear youare 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 silentAlice, “it would be so kind an assurance. As major of the Sixtieth, ourhonest host will tell you I must take my share of the fray; but our task willbe 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 ofthe 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 disconcertsyour aim! Little powder, light lead, and a long arm, seldom fail of bringingthe death screech from a Mingo! At least, such has been my experience with thecreatur’s. Come, friends: let us to our covers, for no man can tell whenor where a Maqua^[1]will strike his blow.”

[1]Mingo was the Delaware term of the Five Nations. Maquas was the name giventhem by the Dutch. The French, from their first intercourse with them, calledthem Iroquois.

The Indians silently repaired to their appointed stations, which were fissuresin the rocks, whence they could command the approaches to the foot of thefalls. In the center of the little island, a few short and stunted pines hadfound root, forming a thicket, into which Hawkeye darted with the swiftness ofa deer, followed by the active Duncan. Here they secured themselves, as well ascircumstances would permit, among the shrubs and fragments of stone that werescattered about the place. Above them was a bare, rounded rock, on each side ofwhich the water played its gambols, and plunged into the abysses beneath, inthe manner already described. As the day had now dawned, the opposite shores nolonger 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 arenewed attack; and Duncan began to hope that their fire had proved more fatalthan was supposed, and that their enemies had been effectually repulsed. Whenhe ventured to utter this impression to his companions, it was met by Hawkeyewith an incredulous shake of the head.

“You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think he is so easily beatenback without a scalp!” he answered. “If there was one of the impsyelling this morning, there were forty! and they know our number and qualitytoo well to give up the chase so soon. Hist! look into the water above, justwhere it breaks over the rocks. I am no mortal, if the risky devilshaven’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 willbe off your crown in the turning of a knife!”

Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld what he justly considered aprodigy of rashness and skill. The river had worn away the edge of the softrock in such a manner as to render its first pitch less abrupt andperpendicular than is usual at waterfalls. With no other guide than the rippleof the stream where it met the head of the island, a party of their insatiablefoes had ventured into the current, and swam down upon this point, knowing theready access it would give, if successful, to their intended victims.

As Hawkeye ceased speaking, four human heads could be seen peering above a fewlogs of drift-wood that had lodged on these naked rocks, and which had probablysuggested the idea of the practicability of the hazardous undertaking. At thenext moment, a fifth form was seen floating over the green edge of the fall, alittle from the line of the island. The savage struggled powerfully to gain thepoint of safety, and, favored by the glancing water, he was already stretchingforth an arm to meet the grasp of his companions, when he shot away again withthe shirling current, appeared to rise into the air, with uplifted arms andstarting eyeballs, and fell, with a sudden plunge, into that deep and yawningabyss over which he hovered. A single, wild, despairing shriek rose from thecavern, and all was hushed again as the grave.

The first generous impulse of Duncan was to rush to the rescue of the haplesswretch; but he felt himself bound to the spot by the iron grasp of theimmovable scout.

“Would ye bring certain death upon us, by telling the Mingoes where welie?” demanded Hawkeye, sternly; “’Tis a charge of powdersaved, and ammunition is as precious now as breath to a worried deer! Freshenthe priming of your pistols—the midst of the falls is apt to dampen thebrimstone—and stand firm for a close struggle, while I fire on theirrush.”

He placed a finger in his mouth, and drew a long, shrill whistle, which wasanswered from the rocks that were guarded by the Mohicans. Duncan caughtglimpses of heads above the scattered drift-wood, as this signal rose on theair, 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 himin Delaware, when the young chief took his position with singular caution andundisturbed coolness. To Heyward this was a moment of feverish and impatientsuspense; though the scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read alecture to his more youthful associates on the art of using firearms withdiscretion.

“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, toput forth all its beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight intotheir trade when they make their fowling-pieces and shorthorsemen’s—”

He was interrupted by the low but expressive “hugh” of Uncas.

“I see them, boy, I see them!” continued Hawkeye; “they aregathering for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs below the logs.Well, let them,” he added, examining his flint; “the leading mancertainly 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 thesignal four savages sprang from the cover of the driftwood. Heyward felt aburning desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense was the deliriousanxiety of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate examples of thescout and Uncas.

When their foes, who had leaped over the black rocks that divided them, withlong bounds, uttering the wildest yells, were within a few rods, the rifle ofHawkeye slowly rose among the shrubs, and poured out its fatal contents. Theforemost Indian bounded like a stricken deer, and fell headlong among theclefts of the island.

“Now, Uncas!” cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while hisquick eyes began to flash with ardor, “take the last of the screechingimps; of the other two we are sartain!”

He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be overcome. Heyward had givenone of his pistols to Hawkeye, and together they rushed down a little declivitytoward their foes; they discharged their weapons at the same instant, andequally without success.

“I know’d it! and I said it!” muttered the scout, whirlingthe despised little implement over the falls with bitter disdain. “Comeon, ye bloody minded hell-hounds! ye meet a man without a cross!”

The words were barely uttered, when he encountered a savage of giganticstature, of the fiercest mien. At the same moment, Duncan found himself engagedwith the other, in a similar contest of hand to hand. With ready skill, Hawkeyeand his antagonist each grasped that uplifted arm of the other which held thedangerous 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 lesspracticed limbs of the native. The arm of the latter slowly gave way before theincreasing force of the scout, who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from thegrasp 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 slightsword was snapped in the first encounter. As he was destitute of any othermeans of defense, his safety now depended entirely on bodily strength andresolution. Though deficient in neither of these qualities, he had met an enemyevery 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 afierce struggle who should cast the other over the dizzy height into aneighboring cavern of the falls. Every successive struggle brought them nearerto the verge, where Duncan perceived the final and conquering effort must bemade. Each of the combatants threw all his energies into that effort, and theresult was, that both tottered on the brink of the precipice. Heyward felt thegrasp of the other at his throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, underthe revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a fate similar to his own, ashe felt his body slowly yielding to a resistless power, and the young manexperienced the passing agony of such a moment in all its horrors. At thatinstant of extreme danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared before him;the Indian released his hold, as the blood flowed freely from around thesevered tendons of the wrist; and while Duncan was drawn backward by the savinghand of Uncas, his charmed eyes still were riveted on the fierce anddisappointed countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly and disappointed downthe irrecoverable precipice.

“To cover! to cover!” cried Hawkeye, who just then had despatchedthe 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 upthe acclivity they had descended to the combat, and sought the friendly shelterof the rocks and shrubs.

CHAPTER VIII.

“They linger yet,
Avengers of their native land.”—Gray

The warning call of the scout was not uttered without occasion. During theoccurrence of the deadly encounter just related, the roar of the falls wasunbroken by any human sound whatever. It would seem that interest in the resulthad kept the natives on the opposite shores in breathless suspense, while thequick evolutions and swift changes in the positions of the combatantseffectually prevented a fire that might prove dangerous alike to friend andenemy. But the moment the struggle was decided, a yell arose as fierce andsavage as wild and revengeful passions could throw into the air. It wasfollowed by the swift flashes of the rifles, which sent their leaden messengersacross the rock in volleys, as though the assailants would pour out theirimpotent fury on the insensible scene of the fatal contest.

A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle of Chingachgook, whohad maintained his post throughout the fray with unmoved resolution. When thetriumphant shout of Uncas was borne to his ears, the gratified father raisedhis voice in a single responsive cry, after which his busy piece alone provedthat he still guarded his pass with unwearied diligence. In this manner manyminutes flew by with the swiftness of thought; the rifles of the assailantsspeaking, at times, in rattling volleys, and at others in occasional,scattering shots. Though the rock, the trees, and the shrubs, were cut and tornin a hundred places around the besieged, their cover was so close, and sorigidly maintained, that, as yet, David had been the only sufferer in theirlittle band.

“Let them burn their powder,” said the deliberate scout, whilebullet after bullet whizzed by the place where he securely lay; “therewill be a fine gathering of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps willtire of the sport afore these old stones cry out for mercy! Uncas, boy, youwaste the kernels by overcharging; and a kicking rifle never carries a truebullet. 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 tothe sarpents.”

A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young Mohican, betraying hisknowledge of the English language as well as of the other’s meaning; buthe suffered it to pass away without vindication of reply.

“I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or ofskill,” said Duncan; “he saved my life in the coolest and readiestmanner, and he has made a friend who never will require to be reminded of thedebt 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 ofintelligence which caused Duncan to forget the character and condition of hiswild associate. In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who looked on this burst of youthfulfeeling with a cool but kind regard made the following reply:

“Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in thewilderness. I dare say I may have served Uncas some such turn myself beforenow; and I very well remember that he has stood between me and death fivedifferent 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 asmart rebound.

Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his head, as heexamined it, saying, “Falling lead is never flattened, had it come fromthe clouds this might have happened.”

But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised toward the heavens, directingthe eyes of his companions to a point, where the mystery was immediatelyexplained. A ragged oak grew on the right bank of the river, nearly opposite totheir position, which, seeking the freedom of the open space, had inclined sofar forward that its upper branches overhung that arm of the stream whichflowed nearest to its own shore. Among the topmost leaves, which scantilyconcealed the gnarled and stunted limbs, a savage was nestled, partly concealedby the trunk of the tree, and partly exposed, as though looking down upon themto ascertain the effect produced by his treacherous aim.

“These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our ruin,” saidHawkeye; “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 werescattered by the wind, but the Indian answered their assault by a tauntinglaugh, sending down upon them another bullet in return, that struck the cap ofHawkeye from his head. Once more the savage yells burst out of the woods, andthe leaden hail whistled above the heads of the besieged, as if to confine themto a place where they might become easy victims to the enterprise of thewarrior who had mounted the tree.

“This must be looked to,” said the scout, glancing about him withan anxious eye. “Uncas, call up your father; we have need of all ourwe’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 experiencedwarrior the situation of their dangerous enemy, the usual exclamatory“hugh” burst from his lips; after which, no further expression ofsurprise or alarm was suffered to escape him. Hawkeye and the Mohicansconversed earnestly together in Delaware for a few moments, when each quietlytook his post, in order to execute the plan they had speedily devised.

The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though ineffectual fire, fromthe moment of his discovery. But his aim was interrupted by the vigilance ofhis enemies, whose rifles instantaneously bore on any part of his person thatwas left exposed. Still his bullets fell in the center of the crouching party.The clothes of Heyward, which rendered him peculiarly conspicuous, wererepeatedly 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, theHuron attempted a better and more fatal aim. The quick eyes of the Mohicanscaught the dark line of his lower limbs incautiously exposed through the thinfoliage, a few inches from the trunk of the tree. Their rifles made a commonreport, when, sinking on his wounded limb, part of the body of the savage cameinto view. Swift as thought, Hawkeye seized the advantage, and discharged hisfatal weapon into the top of the oak. The leaves were unusually agitated; thedangerous rifle fell from its commanding elevation, and after a few moments ofvain struggling, the form of the savage was seen swinging in the wind, while hestill grasped a ragged and naked branch of the tree with hands clenched indesperation.

“Give him, in pity, give him the contents of another rifle,” criedDuncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the spectacle of a fellow creaturein such awful jeopardy.

“Not a karnel!” exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; “his death iscertain, and we have no powder to spare, for Indian fights sometimes last fordays; ’tis their scalps or ours! and God, who made us, has put into ournatures the craving to keep the skin on the head.”

Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it was by such visiblepolicy, there was no appeal. From that moment the yells in the forest once moreceased, the fire was suffered to decline, and all eyes, those of friends aswell as enemies, became fixed on the hopeless condition of the wretch who wasdangling between heaven and earth. The body yielded to the currents of air, andthough no murmur or groan escaped the victim, there were instants when hegrimly faced his foes, and the anguish of cold despair might be traced, throughthe intervening distance, in possession of his swarthy lineaments. Threeseveral times the scout raised his piece in mercy, and as often, prudencegetting the better of his intention, it was again silently lowered. At lengthone hand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped exhausted to his side. Adesperate and fruitless struggle to recover the branch succeeded, and then thesavage was seen for a fleeting instant, grasping wildly at the empty air. Thelightning is not quicker than was the flame from the rifle of Hawkeye; thelimbs of the victim trembled and contracted, the head fell to the bosom, andthe 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 lostforever.

No shout of triumph succeeded this important advantage, but even the Mohicansgazed at each other in silent horror. A single yell burst from the woods, andall was again still. Hawkeye, who alone appeared to reason on the occasion,shook his head at his own momentary weakness, even uttering hisself-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 itwhether 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 wehave left, and we shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of theMingo nature.”

The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turning over the useless contentsof his pouch, and shaking the empty horn with renewed discontent. From thisunsatisfactory examination, however, he was soon called by a loud and piercingexclamation from Uncas, that sounded, even to the unpracticed ears of Duncan,as the signal of some new and unexpected calamity. Every thought filled withapprehension for the previous treasure he had concealed in the cavern, theyoung man started to his feet, totally regardless of the hazard he incurred bysuch an exposure. As if actuated by a common impulse, his movement was imitatedby his companions, and, together they rushed down the pass to the friendlychasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scattering fire of their enemiesperfectly harmless. The unwonted cry had brought the sisters, together with thewounded David, from their place of refuge; and the whole party, at a singleglance, was made acquainted with the nature of the disaster that had disturbedeven the practiced stoicism of their youthful Indian protector.

At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to be seen floatingacross the eddy, toward the swift current of the river, in a manner whichproved that its course was directed by some hidden agent. The instant thisunwelcome sight caught the eye of the scout, his rifle was leveled as byinstinct, 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 hasstruck the rapid; and had we powder, it could hardly send the lead swifter thanhe 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 theshout, which was the known signal of success. His cry was answered by a yelland a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting as if fifty demons wereuttering 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 fallneglected at his feet, “for the three quickest and truest rifles in thesewoods are no better than so many stalks of mullein, or the last year’shorns of a buck!”

“What is to be done?” demanded Duncan, losing the first feeling ofdisappointment in a more manly desire for exertion; “what will become ofus?”

Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger around the crown of hishead, in a manner so significant, that none who witnessed the action couldmistake its meaning.

“Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!” exclaimed theyouth; “the Hurons are not here; we may make good the caverns, we mayoppose 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 atthe Mohicans, “let us remember we are men without a cross, and let usteach 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, andread a confirmation of his worst apprehensions in the conduct of the Indians.Chingachgook, placing himself in a dignified posture on another fragment of therock, had already laid aside his knife and tomahawk, and was in the act oftaking the eagle’s plume from his head, and smoothing the solitary tuftof hair in readiness to perform its last and revolting office. His countenancewas composed, though thoughtful, while his dark, gleaming eyes were graduallylosing the fierceness of the combat in an expression better suited to thechange he expected momentarily to undergo.

“Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless!” said Duncan; “evenat this very moment succor may be at hand. I see no enemies! They have sickenedof a struggle in which they risk so much with so little prospect ofgain!”

“It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the wily sarpents stealupon us, and it is quite in natur’ for them to be lying within hearing atthis very moment,” said Hawkeye; “but come they will, and in such afashion as will leave us nothing to hope! Chingachgook”—he spoke inDelaware—“my brother, we have fought our last battle together, andthe Maquas will triumph in the death of the sage man of the Mohicans, and ofthe pale face, whose eyes can make night as day, and level the clouds to themists 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 theMohicans has coiled himself in their wigwams, and has poisoned their triumphwith the wailings of children, whose fathers have not returned! Eleven warriorslie hid from the graves of their tribes since the snows have melted, and nonewill 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 theirbitterest enemy is in their hands. Uncas, topmost branch of a noble trunk, callon the cowards to hasten, or their hearts will soften, and they will change towomen!”

“They look among the fishes for their dead!” returned the low, softvoice 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 Delawareslaugh!”

“Ay, ay,” muttered the scout, who had listened to this peculiarburst of the natives with deep attention; “they have warmed their Indianfeelings, 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 Ishould die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my mouth, andwithout bitterness at the heart!”

“Why die at all!” said Cora, advancing from the place where naturalhorror had, until this moment, held her riveted to the rock; “the path isopen 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 ourhapless fortunes!”

“You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you judge theyhave left the path open to the woods!” returned Hawkeye, who, however,immediately added in his simplicity, “the down stream current, it iscertain, might soon sweep us beyond the reach of their rifles or the sound oftheir voices.”

“Then try the river. Why linger to add to the number of the victims ofour 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 livehaunted by an evil conscience! What answer could we give Munro, when he askedus where and how we left his children?”

“Go to him, and say that you left them with a message to hasten to theiraid,” returned Cora, advancing nigher to the scout in her generous ardor;“that the Hurons bear them into the northern wilds, but that by vigilanceand speed they may yet be rescued; and if, after all, it should please heaventhat his assistance come too late, bear to him,” she continued, her voicegradually lowering, until it seemed nearly choked, “the love, theblessings, the final prayers of his daughters, and bid him not mourn theirearly fate, but to look forward with humble confidence to the Christian’sgoal to meet his children.” The hard, weather-beaten features of thescout 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 compressedand trembling lips; “ay, and they bear the spirit of Christianity; whatmight be right and proper in a red-skin, may be sinful in a man who has noteven a cross in blood to plead for his ignorance. Chingachgook! Uncas! hear youthe talk of the dark-eyed woman?”

He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and his address, though calm anddeliberate, seemed very decided. The elder Mohican heard with deep gravity, andappeared to ponder on his words, as though he felt the importance of theirimport. After a moment of hesitation, he waved his hand in assent, and utteredthe English word “Good!” with the peculiar emphasis of his people.Then, replacing his knife and tomahawk in his girdle, the warrior movedsilently to the edge of the rock which was most concealed from the banks of theriver. Here he paused a moment, pointed significantly to the woods below, andsaying a few words in his own language, as if indicating his intended route, hedropped into the water, and sank from before the eyes of the witnesses of hismovements.

The scout delayed his departure to speak to the generous girl, whose breathingbecame lighter as she saw the success of her remonstrance.

“Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the old,” hesaid; “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 asbroad as you can, when, if mortal eyes can see them, depend on having a friendwho 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 afterregarding it a moment with melancholy solicitude, laid it carefully aside, anddescended to the place where Chingachgook had just disappeared. For an instanthe hung suspended by the rock, and looking about him, with a countenance ofpeculiar care, he added bitterly, “Had the powder held out, this disgracecould never have befallen!” then, loosening his hold, the water closedabove 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 theriver, 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 ofour release! Go, generous young man,” Cora continued, lowering her eyesunder the gaze of the Mohican, and perhaps, with an intuitive consciousness ofher power; “go to my father, as I have said, and be the most confidentialof my messengers. Tell him to trust you with the means to buy the freedom ofhis daughters. Go! ’tis my wish, ’tis my prayer, that you willgo!”

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, anddropped into the troubled stream. Hardly a breath was drawn by those he leftbehind, until they caught a glimpse of his head emerging for air, far down thecurrent, when he again sank, and was seen no more.

These sudden and apparently successful experiments had all taken place in a fewminutes of that time which had now become so precious. After a last look atUncas, Cora turned and with a quivering lip, addressed herself to Heyward:

“I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too, Duncan,” shesaid; “follow, then, the wise example set you by these simple andfaithful 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,” sheanswered; “but a moment when every duty should be equally considered. Tous you can be of no further service here, but your precious life may be savedfor 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 seemedto 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 atthe 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 whowould die in your behalf may avert.”

Cora ceased her entreaties; and veiling her face in her shawl, drew the nearlyinsensible Alice after her into the deepest recess of the inner cavern.

CHAPTER IX.

“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 combatto the stillness that now reigned around him, acted on the heated imaginationof Heyward like some exciting dream. While all the images and events he hadwitnessed remained deeply impressed on his memory, he felt a difficulty inpersuading him of their truth. Still ignorant of the fate of those who hadtrusted to the aid of the swift current, he at first listened intently to anysignal or sounds of alarm, which might announce the good or evil fortune oftheir hazardous undertaking. His attention was, however, bestowed in vain; forwith 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 sonecessary to his safety. Every effort, however, to detect the least evidence ofthe approach of their hidden enemies was as fruitless as the inquiry after hislate companions. The wooded banks of the river seemed again deserted byeverything possessing animal life. The uproar which had so lately echoedthrough the vaults of the forest was gone, leaving the rush of the waters toswell and sink on the currents of the air, in the unmingled sweetness ofnature. A fish-hawk, which, secure on the topmost branches of a dead pine, hadbeen a distant spectator of the fray, now swooped from his high and raggedperch, and soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a jay, whose noisyvoice had been stilled by the hoarser cries of the savages, ventured again toopen his discordant throat, as though once more in undisturbed possession ofhis wild domains. Duncan caught from these natural accompaniments of thesolitary scene a glimmering of hope; and he began to rally his faculties torenewed exertions, with something like a reviving confidence of success.

“The Hurons are not to be seen,” he said, addressing David, who hadby no means recovered from the effects of the stunning blow he had received;“let us conceal ourselves in the cavern, and trust the rest toProvidence.”

“I remember to have united with two comely maidens, in lifting up ourvoices in praise and thanksgiving,” returned the bewilderedsinging-master; “since which time I have been visited by a heavy judgmentfor my sins. I have been mocked with the likeness of sleep, while sounds ofdiscord have rent my ears, such as might manifest the fullness of time, andthat 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 thoseof your own psalmody shall be excluded.”

“There is melody in the fall of the cataract, and the rushing of manywaters is sweet to the senses!” said David, pressing his hand confusedlyon his brow. “Is not the air yet filled with shrieks and cries, as thoughthe departed spirits of the damned—”

“Not now, not now,” interrupted the impatient Heyward, “theyhave 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 createthose sounds you love so well to hear.”

David smiled sadly, though not without a momentary gleam of pleasure, at thisallusion to his beloved vocation. He no longer hesitated to be led to a spotwhich promised such unalloyed gratification to his wearied senses; and leaningon the arm of his companion, he entered the narrow mouth of the cave. Duncanseized a pile of the sassafras, which he drew before the passage, studiouslyconcealing every appearance of an aperture. Within this fragile barrier hearranged the blankets abandoned by the foresters, darkening the inner extremityof the cavern, while its outer received a chastened light from the narrowravine, through which one arm of the river rushed to form the junction with itssister branch a few rods below.

“I like not the principle of the natives, which teaches them to submitwithout a struggle, in emergencies that appear desperate,” he said, whilebusied in this employment; “our own maxim, which says, ‘while liferemains there is hope’, is more consoling, and better suited to asoldier’s temperament. To you, Cora, I will urge no words of idleencouragement; your own fortitude and undisturbed reason will teach you allthat may become your sex; but cannot we dry the tears of that trembling weeperon your bosom?”

“I am calmer, Duncan,” said Alice, raising herself from the arms ofher sister, and forcing an appearance of composure through her tears;“much calmer, now. Surely, in this hidden spot we are safe, we aresecret, free from injury; we will hope everything from those generous men whohave risked so much already in our behalf.”

“Now does our gentle Alice speak like a daughter of Munro!” saidHeyward, pausing to press her hand as he passed toward the outer entrance ofthe cavern. “With two such examples of courage before him, a man would beashamed to prove other than a hero.” He then seated himself in the centerof the cavern, grasping his remaining pistol with a hand convulsively clenched,while his contracted and frowning eye announced the sullen desperation of hispurpose. “The Hurons, if they come, may not gain our position so easilyas they think,” he slowly muttered; and propping his head back againstthe rock, he seemed to await the result in patience, though his gaze wasunceasingly bent on the open avenue to their place of retreat.

With the last sound of his voice, a deep, a long, and almost breathless silencesucceeded. The fresh air of the morning had penetrated the recess, and itsinfluence was gradually felt on the spirits of its inmates. As minute afterminute passed by, leaving them in undisturbed security, the insinuating feelingof hope was gradually gaining possession of every bosom, though each one feltreluctant to give utterance to expectations that the next moment might sofearfully destroy.

David alone formed an exception to these varying emotions. A gleam of lightfrom the opening crossed his wan countenance, and fell upon the pages of thelittle volume, whose leaves he was again occupied in turning, as if searchingfor some song more fitted to their condition than any that had yet met theireye. He was, most probably, acting all this time under a confused recollectionof the promised consolation of Duncan. At length, it would seem, his patientindustry found its reward; for, without explanation or apology, he pronouncedaloud the words “Isle of Wight,” drew a long, sweet sound from hispitch-pipe, and then ran through the preliminary modulations of the air whosename he had just mentioned, with the sweeter tones of his own musical voice.

“May not this prove dangerous?” asked Cora, glancing her dark eyeat Major Heyward.

“Poor fellow! his voice is too feeble to be heard above the din of thefalls,” 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 thatdignity with which he had long been wont to silence the whispering echoes ofhis school; “’tis a brave tune, and set to solemn words! let it besung with meet respect!”

After allowing a moment of stillness to enforce his discipline, the voice ofthe singer was heard, in low, murmuring syllables, gradually stealing on theear, until it filled the narrow vault with sounds rendered trebly thrilling bythe feeble and tremulous utterance produced by his debility. The melody, whichno weakness could destroy, gradually wrought its sweet influence on the sensesof those who heard it. It even prevailed over the miserable travesty of thesong 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 pallidfeatures of Gamut, with an expression of chastened delight that she neitheraffected or wished to conceal. Cora bestowed an approving smile on the piousefforts of the namesake of the Jewish prince, and Heyward soon turned hissteady, stern look from the outlet of the cavern, to fasten it, with a mildercharacter, on the face of David, or to meet the wandering beams which atmoments strayed from the humid eyes of Alice. The open sympathy of thelisteners stirred the spirit of the votary of music, whose voice regained itsrichness and volume, without losing that touching softness which proved itssecret charm. Exerting his renovated powers to their utmost, he was yet fillingthe arches of the cave with long and full tones, when a yell burst into the airwithout, 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 ofCora.

“Not yet, not yet,” returned the agitated but undaunted Heyward:“the sound came from the center of the island, and it has been producedby the sight of their dead companions. We are not yet discovered, and there isstill hope.”

Faint and almost despairing as was the prospect of escape, the words of Duncanwere not thrown away, for it awakened the powers of the sisters in such amanner that they awaited the results in silence. A second yell soon followedthe first, when a rush of voices was heard pouring down the island, from itsupper to its lower extremity, until they reached the naked rock above thecaverns, where, after a shout of savage triumph, the air continued full ofhorrible cries and screams, such as man alone can utter, and he only when in astate of the fiercest barbarity.

The sounds quickly spread around them in every direction. Some called to theirfellows 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 deepravine. In short, so rapidly had the savage sounds diffused themselves over thebarren rock, that it was not difficult for the anxious listeners to imaginethey 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 ofthe hidden entrance to the cave. Heyward abandoned every hope, with the beliefit 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 soreluctantly abandoned his rifle. Amid the jargon of Indian dialects that he nowplainly heard, it was easy to distinguish not only words, but sentences, in thepatois of the Canadas. A burst of voices had shouted simultaneously, “LaLongue Carabine!” causing the opposite woods to re-echo with a namewhich, Heyward well remembered, had been given by his enemies to a celebratedhunter and scout of the English camp, and who, he now learned for the firsttime, had been his late companion.

“La Longue Carabine! La Longue Carabine!” passed from mouth tomouth, until the whole band appeared to be collected around a trophy whichwould seem to announce the death of its formidable owner. After a vociferousconsultation, which was, at times, deafened by bursts of savage joy, they againseparated, filling the air with the name of a foe, whose body, Heywood couldcollect from their expressions, they hoped to find concealed in some crevice ofthe island.

“Now,” he whispered to the trembling sisters, “now is themoment of uncertainty! if our place of retreat escape this scrutiny, we arestill safe! In every event, we are assured, by what has fallen from ourenemies, that our friends have escaped, and in two short hours we may look forsuccor from Webb.”

There were now a few minutes of fearful stillness, during which Heyward wellknew that the savages conducted their search with greater vigilance and method.More than once he could distinguish their footsteps, as they brushed thesassafras, causing the faded leaves to rustle, and the branches to snap. Atlength, the pile yielded a little, a corner of a blanket fell, and a faint rayof light gleamed into the inner part of the cave. Cora folded Alice to herbosom in agony, and Duncan sprang to his feet. A shout was at that momentheard, as if issuing from the center of the rock, announcing that theneighboring cavern had at length been entered. In a minute, the number andloudness of the voices indicated that the whole party was collected in andaround 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, toplace himself between the latter and the first onset of the terrible meeting.Grown desperate by his situation, he drew nigh the slight barrier whichseparated him only by a few feet from his relentless pursuers, and placing hisface to the casual opening, he even looked out with a sort of desperateindifference, on their movements.

Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder of a gigantic Indian, whosedeep and authoritative voice appeared to give directions to the proceedings ofhis fellows. Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the vault opposite, whichwas filled with savages, upturning and rifling the humble furniture of thescout. The wound of David had dyed the leaves of sassafras with a color thatthe native well knew as anticipating the season. Over this sign of theirsuccess, they sent up a howl, like an opening from so many hounds who hadrecovered a lost trail. After this yell of victory, they tore up the fragrantbed 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 longhated and feared. One fierce and wild-looking warrior approached the chief,bearing a load of the brush, and pointing exultingly to the deep red stainswith which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in Indian yells, whose meaningHeyward was only enabled to comprehend by the frequent repetition of the name“La Longue Carabine!” When his triumph had ceased, he cast thebrush on the slight heap Duncan had made before the entrance of the secondcavern, and closed the view. His example was followed by others, who, as theydrew 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 thedefense 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 beenaccidentally raised by the hands of their own party.

As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, and the branches settledin the fissure of the rock by their own weight, forming a compact body, Duncanonce more breathed freely. With a light step and lighter heart, he returned tothe center of the cave, and took the place he had left, where he could commanda view of the opening next the river. While he was in the act of making thismovement, the Indians, as if changing their purpose by a common impulse, brokeaway 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 crybetrayed that they were again collected around the bodies of their deadcomrades.

Duncan now ventured to look at his companions; for, during the most criticalmoments of their danger, he had been apprehensive that the anxiety of hiscountenance might communicate some additional alarm to those who were so littleable to sustain it.

“They are gone, Cora!” he whispered; “Alice, they arereturned whence they came, and we are saved! To Heaven, that has alonedelivered us from the grasp of so merciless an enemy, be all the praise!”

“Then to Heaven will I return my thanks!” exclaimed the youngersister, rising from the encircling arm of Cora, and casting herself withenthusiastic gratitude on the naked rock; “to that Heaven who has sparedthe tears of a gray-headed father; has saved the lives of those I so muchlove.”

Both Heyward and the more temperate Cora witnessed the act of involuntaryemotion with powerful sympathy, the former secretly believing that piety hadnever worn a form so lovely as it had now assumed in the youthful person ofAlice. Her eyes were radiant with the glow of grateful feelings; the flush ofher beauty was again seated on her cheeks, and her whole soul seemed ready andanxious to pour out its thanksgivings through the medium of her eloquentfeatures. But when her lips moved, the words they should have uttered appearedfrozen by some new and sudden chill. Her bloom gave place to the paleness ofdeath; 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 inconvulsed motion. Heyward turned the instant she gave a direction to hissuspicions, and peering just above the ledge which formed the threshold of theopen outlet of the cavern, he beheld the malignant, fierce and savage featuresof 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, thathis eye, accustomed to the open air had not yet been able to penetrate thedusky light which pervaded the depth of the cavern. He had even thought ofretreating beyond a curvature in the natural wall, which might still concealhim and his companions, when by the sudden gleam of intelligence that shotacross the features of the savage, he saw it was too late, and that they werebetrayed.

The look of exultation and brutal triumph which announced this terrible truthwas irresistibly irritating. Forgetful of everything but the impulses of hishot blood, Duncan leveled his pistol and fired. The report of the weapon madethe cavern bellow like an eruption from a volcano; and when the smoke itvomited had been driven away before the current of air which issued from theravine the place so lately occupied by the features of his treacherous guidewas vacant. Rushing to the outlet, Heyward caught a glimpse of his dark figurestealing around a low and narrow ledge, which soon hid him entirely from sight.

Among the savages a frightful stillness succeeded the explosion, which had justbeen heard bursting from the bowels of the rock. But when Le Renard raised hisvoice in a long and intelligible whoop, it was answered by a spontaneous yellfrom the mouth of every Indian within hearing of the sound.

The clamorous noises again rushed down the island; and before Duncan had timeto recover from the shock, his feeble barrier of brush was scattered to thewinds, the cavern was entered at both its extremities, and he and hiscompanions were dragged from their shelter and borne into the day, where theystood surrounded by the whole band of the triumphant Hurons.

CHAPTER X.

“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 tomake his observations on the appearance and proceedings of their captors.Contrary to the usages of the natives in the wantonness of their success theyhad respected, not only the persons of the trembling sisters, but his own. Therich ornaments of his military attire had indeed been repeatedly handled bydifferent individuals of the tribes with eyes expressing a savage longing topossess the baubles; but before the customary violence could be resorted to, amandate in the authoritative voice of the large warrior, already mentioned,stayed the uplifted hand, and convinced Heyward that they were to be reservedfor some object of particular moment.

While, however, these manifestations of weakness were exhibited by the youngand vain of the party, the more experienced warriors continued their searchthroughout both caverns, with an activity that denoted they were far from beingsatisfied with those fruits of their conquest which had already been brought tolight. Unable to discover any new victim, these diligent workers of vengeancesoon approached their male prisoners, pronouncing the name “La LongueCarabine,” with a fierceness that could not be easily mistaken. Duncanaffected not to comprehend the meaning of their repeated and violentinterrogatories, while his companion was spared the effort of a similardeception by his ignorance of French. Wearied at length by their importunities,and apprehensive of irritating his captors by too stubborn a silence, theformer looked about him in quest of Magua, who might interpret his answers toquestions which were at each moment becoming more earnest and threatening.

The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary exception to that of all hisfellows. While the others were busily occupied in seeking to gratify theirchildish passion for finery, by plundering even the miserable effects of thescout, or had been searching with such bloodthirsty vengeance in their looksfor their absent owner, Le Renard had stood at a little distance from theprisoners, with a demeanor so quiet and satisfied, as to betray that he hadalready effected the grand purpose of his treachery. When the eyes of Heywardfirst met those of his recent guide, he turned them away in horror at thesinister though calm look he encountered. Conquering his disgust, however, hewas able, with an averted face, to address his successful enemy.

“Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior,” said the reluctantHeyward, “to refuse telling an unarmed man what his conquerorssay.”

“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, witha ferocious smile, on the bundle of leaves with which a wound on his ownshoulder was bandaged. “‘La Longue Carabine’! His rifle isgood, and his eye never shut; but, like the short gun of the white chief, it isnothing against the life of Le Subtil.”

“Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts received in war, or thehands that gave them.”

“Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the sugartree to taste hiscorn! who filled the bushes with creeping enemies! who drew the knife, whosetongue was peace, while his heart was colored with blood! Did Magua say thatthe 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 ownpremeditated treachery, and disdained to deprecate his resentment by any wordsof apology, he remained silent. Magua seemed also content to rest thecontroversy as well as all further communication there, for he resumed theleaning attitude against the rock from which, in momentary energy, he hadarisen. But the cry of “La Longue Carabine” was renewed the instantthe impatient savages perceived that the short dialogue was ended.

“You hear,” said Magua, with stubborn indifference: “the redHurons call for the life of ‘The Long Rifle’, or they will have theblood 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 knowhow to torture even the ghosts of their enemies. Where is his body? Let theHurons 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 downthe stream when the powder was all burned, and when the eyes of the Hurons werebehind a cloud.”

“And why did the white chief stay?” demanded the still incredulousIndian. “Is he a stone that goes to the bottom, or does the scalp burnhis head?”

“That I am not stone, your dead comrade, who fell into the falls, mightanswer, were the life still in him,” said the provoked young man, using,in his anger, that boastful language which was most likely to excite theadmiration of an Indian. “The white man thinks none but cowards deserttheir 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 latecompanions 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’,” saidDuncan gladly profiting by any excuse to create delay.

“Uncas,” returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware name with evengreater difficulty than he spoke his English words. “‘BoundingElk’ is what the white man says, when he calls to the youngMohican.”

“Here is some confusion in names between us, Le Renard,” saidDuncan, hoping to provoke a discussion. “Daim is the French for deer, andcerf for stag; elan is the true term, when one would speak of an elk.”

“Yes,” muttered the Indian, in his native tongue; “the palefaces are prattling women! they have two words for each thing, while a red-skinwill make the sound of his voice speak for him.” Then, changing hislanguage, he continued, adhering to the imperfect nomenclature of hisprovincial instructors. “The deer is swift, but weak; the elk is swift,but strong; and the son of ‘Le Serpent’ is ‘Le CerfAgile.’ Has he leaped the river to the woods?”

“If you mean the younger Delaware, he, too, has gone down with thewater.”

As there was nothing improbable to an Indian in the manner of the escape, Maguaadmitted the truth of what he had heard, with a readiness that affordedadditional evidence how little he would prize such worthless captives. With hiscompanions, however, the feeling was manifestly different.

The Hurons had awaited the result of this short dialogue with characteristicpatience, and with a silence that increased until there was a general stillnessin 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 beensaid. Their interpreter pointed to the river, and made them acquainted with theresult, as much by the action as by the few words he uttered. When the fact wasgenerally understood, the savages raised a frightful yell, which declared theextent of their disappointment. Some ran furiously to the water’s edge,beating the air with frantic gestures, while others spat upon the element, toresent the supposed treason it had committed against their acknowledged rightsas 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 byhabitual self-command, at those captives who still remained in their power,while one or two even gave vent to their malignant feelings by the mostmenacing gestures, against which neither the sex nor the beauty of the sisterswas any protection. The young soldier made a desperate but fruitless effort tospring to the side of Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted inthe rich tresses which were flowing in volumes over her shoulders, while aknife was passed around the head from which they fell, as if to denote thehorrid manner in which it was about to be robbed of its beautiful ornament. Buthis hands were bound; and at the first movement he made, he felt the grasp ofthe powerful Indian who directed the band, pressing his shoulder like a vise.Immediately conscious how unavailing any struggle against such an overwhelmingforce must prove, he submitted to his fate, encouraging his gentle companionsby a few low and tender assurances, that the natives seldom failed to threatenmore than they performed.

But while Duncan resorted to these words of consolation to quiet theapprehensions of the sisters, he was not so weak as to deceive himself. He wellknew that the authority of an Indian chief was so little conventional, that itwas oftener maintained by physical superiority than by any moral supremacy hemight possess. The danger was, therefore, magnified exactly in proportion tothe number of the savage spirits by which they were surrounded. The mostpositive mandate from him who seemed the acknowledged leader, was liable to beviolated at each moment by any rash hand that might choose to sacrifice avictim to the manes of some dead friend or relative. While, therefore, hesustained an outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart leapedinto his throat, whenever any of their fierce captors drew nearer than commonto the helpless sisters, or fastened one of their sullen, wandering looks onthose fragile forms which were so little able to resist the slightest assault.

His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, when he saw that the leaderhad summoned his warriors to himself in counsel. Their deliberations wereshort, and it would seem, by the silence of most of the party, the decisionunanimous. By the frequency with which the few speakers pointed in thedirection of the encampment of Webb, it was apparent they dreaded the approachof danger from that quarter. This consideration probably hastened theirdetermination, 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 theirapproaches, 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 canoethrough the wood around the cataract for that purpose. Placing their arms inthe little vessel a dozen men clinging to its sides had trusted themselves tothe direction of the canoe, which was controlled by two of the most skillfulwarriors, in attitudes that enabled them to command a view of the dangerouspassage. Favored by this arrangement, they touched the head of the island atthat point which had proved so fatal to their first adventurers, but with theadvantages of superior numbers, and the possession of firearms. That such hadbeen the manner of their descent was rendered quite apparent to Duncan; forthey now bore the light bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed it inthe 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 exampleof submission, by leading the way into the canoe, where he was soon seated withthe sisters and the still wondering David. Notwithstanding the Hurons werenecessarily ignorant of the little channels among the eddies and rapids of thestream, they knew the common signs of such a navigation too well to commit anymaterial blunder. When the pilot chosen for the task of guiding the canoe hadtaken his station, the whole band plunged again into the river, the vesselglided down the current, and in a few moments the captives found themselves onthe south bank of the stream, nearly opposite to the point where they hadstruck 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 fromthe cover of the woods, and brought to the sheltered spot. The band nowdivided. The great chief, so often mentioned, mounting the charger of Heyward,led the way directly across the river, followed by most of his people, anddisappeared in the woods, leaving the prisoners in charge of six savages, atwhose head was Le Renard Subtil. Duncan witnessed all their movements withrenewed 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 thoughtsof those who are in misery seldom slumber, and the invention is never morelively than when it is stimulated by hope, however feeble and remote, he hadeven imagined that the parental feelings of Munro were to be made instrumentalin seducing him from his duty to the king. For though the French commander borea high character for courage and enterprise, he was also thought to be expertin those political practises which do not always respect the nicer obligationsof morality, and which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy of thatperiod.

All those busy and ingenious speculations were now annihilated by the conductof his captors. That portion of the band who had followed the huge warrior tookthe route toward the foot of the Horican, and no other expectation was left forhimself and companions, than that they were to be retained as hopeless captivesby their savage conquerors. Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in such anemergency, to try the potency of gold he overcame his reluctance to speak toMagua. Addressing himself to his former guide, who had now assumed theauthority and manner of one who was to direct the future movements of theparty, 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 tohear.”

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 greatmen 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 theirawkward manner, in preparing the horses for the reception of the sisters, andmoved a little to one side, whither by a cautious gesture he induced Heyward tofollow.

“Now, speak,” he said; “if the words are such as Magua shouldhear.”

“Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the honorable name givento him by his Canada fathers,” commenced Heyward; “I see hiswisdom, and all that he has done for us, and shall remember it when the hour toreward him arrives. Yes! Renard has proved that he is not only a great chief incouncil, 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 partiesof the enemies, and that the serpent could not steal through them without beingseen? Then, did he not lose his path to blind the eyes of the Hurons? Did henot pretend to go back to his tribe, who had treated him ill, and driven himfrom their wigwams like a dog? And, when we saw what he wished to do, did wenot aid him, by making a false face, that the Hurons might think the white manbelieved that his friend was his enemy? Is not all this true? And when LeSubtil had shut the eyes and stopped the ears of his nation by his wisdom, didthey not forget that they had once done him wrong, and forced him to flee tothe Mohawks? And did they not leave him on the south side of the river, withtheir prisoners, while they have gone foolishly on the north? Does not Renardmean to turn like a fox on his footsteps, and to carry to the rich andgray-headed Scotchman his daughters? Yes, Magua, I see it all, and I havealready 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 aservice. The medal^[1]of Magua will no longer be of tin, but of beaten gold; his horn will run overwith powder; dollars will be as plenty in his pouch as pebbles on the shore ofHorican; and the deer will lick his hand, for they will know it to be vain tofly from the rifle he will carry! As for myself, I know not how to exceed thegratitude of the Scotchman, but I—yes, I will—”

[1]It has long been a practice with the whites to conciliate the important menof the Indians by presenting medals, which are worn in the place of their ownrude ornaments. Those given by the English generally bear the impression of thereigning 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 theenumeration of benefits with that which might form the climax of anIndian’s wishes.

“He will make the fire-water from the islands in the salt lake flowbefore the wigwam of Magua, until the heart of the Indian shall be lighter thanthe feathers of the humming-bird, and his breath sweeter than the wildhoneysuckle.”

Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly proceeded in this subtlespeech. When the young man mentioned the artifice he supposed the Indian tohave practised on his own nation, the countenance of the listener was veiled inan expression of cautious gravity. At the allusion to the injury which Duncanaffected to believe had driven the Huron from his native tribe, a gleam of suchungovernable ferocity flashed from the other’s eyes, as induced theadventurous speaker to believe he had struck the proper chord. And by the timehe reached the part where he so artfully blended the thirst of vengeance withthe desire of gain, he had, at least, obtained a command of the deepestattention of the savage. The question put by Le Renard had been calm, and withall the dignity of an Indian; but it was quite apparent, by the thoughtfulexpression of the listener’s countenance, that the answer was mostcunningly devised. The Huron mused a few moments, and then laying his hand onthe 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 anenemy?”

“Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love like snakes, twistingthemselves to strike?”

“Would ‘Le Gros Serpent’ have been heard by the ears of onehe wished to be deaf?”

“Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces of hisbrothers?”

“Does he ever miss his aim, when seriously bent to kill?” returnedDuncan, smiling with well acted sincerity.

Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these sententious questions andready replies. Duncan saw that the Indian hesitated. In order to complete hisvictory, he was in the act of recommencing the enumeration of the rewards, whenMagua 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 toanswer.”

Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion were warily fastened on therest of the band, fell back immediately, in order to avoid the appearance ofany suspicious confederacy with their leader. Magua approached the horses, andaffected 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 seldomdeigned to use the English tongue, unless urged by some motive of more thanusual 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 hisreviving hopes in the ears of the trembling females, who, through dread ofencountering the savage countenances of their captors, seldom raised their eyesfrom the ground. The mare of David had been taken with the followers of thelarge chief; in consequence, its owner, as well as Duncan, was compelled tojourney 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 turnedhis longing looks in the direction of Fort Edward, in the vain expectation ofcatching some sound from that quarter of the forest, which might denote theapproach 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 wasgradually coming to a true sense of his condition, as the effects of the woundbecame less and less apparent. The sisters rode in his rear, with Heyward attheir side, while the Indians flanked the party, and brought up the close ofthe march, with a caution that seemed never to tire.

In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence, except when Heywardaddressed some solitary word of comfort to the females, or David gave vent tothe moanings of his spirit, in piteous exclamations, which he intended shouldexpress the humility of resignation. Their direction lay toward the south, andin a course nearly opposite to the road to William Henry. Notwithstanding thisapparent adherence in Magua to the original determination of his conquerors,Heyward could not believe his tempting bait was so soon forgotten; and he knewthe windings of an Indian’s path too well to suppose that its apparentcourse led directly to its object, when artifice was at all necessary. Mileafter mile was, however, passed through the boundless woods, in this painfulmanner, without any prospect of a termination to their journey. Heyward watchedthe sun, as he darted his meridian rays through the branches of the trees, andpined for the moment when the policy of Magua should change their route to onemore favorable to his hopes. Sometimes he fancied the wary savage, despairingof passing the army of Montcalm in safety, was holding his way toward awell-known border settlement, where a distinguished officer of the crown, and afavored friend of the Six Nations, held his large possessions, as well as hisusual residence. To be delivered into the hands of Sir William Johnson was farpreferable to being led into the wilds of Canada; but in order to effect eventhe former, it would be necessary to traverse the forest for many wearyleagues, 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 anopportunity offered, she stretched forth her arm to bend aside the twigs thatmet her hands. But the vigilance of the Indians rendered this act of precautionboth difficult and dangerous. She was often defeated in her purpose, byencountering their watchful eyes, when it became necessary to feign an alarmshe 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 thebough of a large sumach, and by a sudden thought, let her glove fall at thesame instant. This sign, intended for those that might follow, was observed byone of her conductors, who restored the glove, broke the remaining branches ofthe bush in such a manner that it appeared to proceed from the struggling ofsome beast in its branches, and then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with a lookso significant, that it put an effectual end to these stolen memorials of theirpassage.

As there were horses, to leave the prints of their footsteps, in both bands ofthe Indians, this interruption cut off any probable hopes of assistance beingconveyed through the means of their trail.

Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance had there been anything encouragingin the gloomy reserve of Magua. But the savage, during all this time, seldomturned to look at his followers, and never spoke. With the sun for his onlyguide, or aided by such blind marks as are only known to the sagacity of anative, he held his way along the barrens of pine, through occasional littlefertile vales, across brooks and rivulets, and over undulating hills, with theaccuracy of instinct, and nearly with the directness of a bird. He never seemedto hesitate. Whether the path was hardly distinguishable, whether itdisappeared, or whether it lay beaten and plain before him, made no sensibledifference in his speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not affecthim. Whenever the eyes of the wearied travelers rose from the decayed leavesover which they trod, his dark form was to be seen glancing among the stems ofthe trees in front, his head immovably fastened in a forward position, with thelight plume on his crest fluttering in a current of air, made solely by theswiftness of his own motion.

But all this diligence and speed were not without an object. After crossing alow 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 inorder to follow. When the summit was gained, they found themselves on a levelspot, but thinly covered with trees, under one of which Magua had thrown hisdark form, as if willing and ready to seek that rest which was so much neededby the whole party.

CHAPTER XI.

“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, andwhich so frequently occur in the valleys of America. The one in question washigh and precipitous; its top flattened, as usual; but with one of its sidesmore than ordinarily irregular. It possessed no other apparent advantage for aresting place, than in its elevation and form, which might render defense easy,and surprise nearly impossible. As Heyward, however, no longer expected thatrescue which time and distance now rendered so improbable, he regarded theselittle peculiarities with an eye devoid of interest, devoting himself entirelyto the comfort and condolence of his feebler companions. The Narragansetts weresuffered to browse on the branches of the trees and shrubs that were thinlyscattered over the summit of the hill, while the remains of their provisionswere spread under the shade of a beech, that stretched its horizontal limbslike a canopy above them.

Notwithstanding the swiftness of their flight, one of the Indians had found anopportunity to strike a straggling fawn with an arrow, and had borne the morepreferable fragments of the victim, patiently on his shoulders, to the stoppingplace. Without any aid from the science of cookery, he was immediatelyemployed, in common with his fellows, in gorging himself with this digestiblesustenance. 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 ofsatisfying hunger, at length attracted the notice of Heyward. The young manwillingly believed that the Huron deliberated on the most eligible manner ofeluding the vigilance of his associates. With a view to assist his plans by anysuggestion of his own, and to strengthen the temptation, he left the beech, andstraggled, 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 dangerfrom the Canadians?” he asked, as though no longer doubtful of the goodintelligence established between them; “and will not the chief of WilliamHenry be better pleased to see his daughters before another night may havehardened his heart to their loss, to make him less liberal in hisreward?”

“Do the pale faces love their children less in the morning than atnight?” asked the Indian, coldly.

“By no means,” returned Heyward, anxious to recall his error, if hehad made one; “the white man may, and does often, forget the burial placeof his fathers; he sometimes ceases to remember those he should love, and haspromised to cherish; but the affection of a parent for his child is neverpermitted to die.”

“And is the heart of the white-headed chief soft, and will he think ofthe babes that his squaws have given him? He is hard on his warriors and hiseyes are made of stone!”

“He is severe to the idle and wicked, but to the sober and deserving heis 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 haveseen the gray-head in front of his warriors, Magua; but I have seen his eyesswimming in water, when he spoke of those children who are now in yourpower!”

Heyward paused, for he knew not how to construe the remarkable expression thatgleamed across the swarthy features of the attentive Indian. At first it seemedas if the remembrance of the promised reward grew vivid in his mind, while helistened to the sources of parental feeling which were to assure itspossession; but, as Duncan proceeded, the expression of joy became so fiercelymalignant that it was impossible not to apprehend it proceeded from somepassion more sinister than avarice.

“Go,” said the Huron, suppressing the alarming exhibition in aninstant, in a death-like calmness of countenance; “go to the dark-haireddaughter, and say, ‘Magua waits to speak.’ The father will rememberwhat the child promises.”

Duncan, who interpreted this speech to express a wish for some additionalpledge that the promised gifts should not be withheld, slowly and reluctantlyrepaired to the place where the sisters were now resting from their fatigue, tocommunicate its purport to Cora.

“You understand the nature of an Indian’s wishes,” heconcluded, as he led her toward the place where she was expected, “andmust 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 boonfrom 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 asthat 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 prizeto be seized by any enemy who may possess the power. I have no father to expectme, and but few friends to lament a fate which I have courted with theinsatiable longings of youth after distinction. But hush! we approach theIndian. 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 andmotionless. 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, Cora said, with a calmsmile:

“You hear, Heyward, and delicacy at least should urge you to retire. Goto Alice, and comfort her with our reviving prospects.”

She waited until he had departed, and then turning to the native, with thedignity of her sex in her voice and manner, she added: “What would LeRenard say to the daughter of Munro?”

“Listen,” said the Indian, laying his hand firmly upon her arm, asif willing to draw her utmost attention to his words; a movement that Cora asfirmly 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 inthe streams before he saw a pale face; and he was happy! Then his Canadafathers came into the woods, and taught him to drink the fire-water, and hebecame a rascal. The Hurons drove him from the graves of his fathers, as theywould chase the hunted buffalo. He ran down the shores of the lakes, andfollowed their outlet to the ‘city of cannon.’ There he hunted andfished, till the people chased him again through the woods into the arms of hisenemies. The chief, who was born a Huron, was at last a warrior among theMohawks!”

“Something like this I had heard before,” said Cora, observing thathe paused to suppress those passions which began to burn with too bright aflame, as he recalled the recollection of his supposed injuries.

“Was it the fault of Le Renard that his head was not made of rock? Whogave 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, whoseshades of countenance may resemble mine?” Cora calmly demanded of theexcited savage.

“No; Magua is a man, and not a fool; such as you never open their lips tothe burning stream: the Great Spirit has given you wisdom!”

“What, then, have I do to, or say, in the matter of your misfortunes, notto say of your errors?”

“Listen,” repeated the Indian, resuming his earnest attitude;“when his English and French fathers dug up the hatchet, Le Renard struckthe war-post of the Mohawks, and went out against his own nation. The palefaces have driven the red-skins from their hunting grounds, and now when theyfight, a white man leads the way. The old chief at Horican, your father, wasthe great captain of our war-party. He said to the Mohawks do this, and dothat, and he was minded. He made a law, that if an Indian swallowed thefire-water, and came into the cloth wigwams of his warriors, it should not beforgotten. Magua foolishly opened his mouth, and the hot liquor led him intothe cabin of Munro. What did the gray-head? let his daughter say.”

“He forgot not his words, and did justice, by punishing theoffender,” said the undaunted daughter.

“Justice!” repeated the Indian, casting an oblique glance of themost ferocious expression at her unyielding countenance; “is it justiceto make evil and then punish for it? Magua was not himself; it was thefire-water that spoke and acted for him! but Munro did believe it. The Huronchief was tied up before all the pale-faced warriors, and whipped like adog.”

Cora remained silent, for she knew not how to palliate this imprudent severityon the part of her father in a manner to suit the comprehension of an Indian.

“See!” continued Magua, tearing aside the slight calico that veryimperfectly concealed his painted breast; “here are scars given by knivesand bullets—of these a warrior may boast before his nation; but thegray-head has left marks on the back of the Huron chief that he must hide likea squaw, under this painted cloth of the whites.”

“I had thought,” resumed Cora, “that an Indian warrior waspatient, and that his spirit felt not and knew not the pain his bodysuffered.”

“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 intheir faces, and told them, Women struck so light! His spirit was then in theclouds! 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, showhim how an Indian can forgive an injury, and take back his daughters. You haveheard 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 andgenerous 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 helplessdaughters. Would it not be more like a man to go before his face, and take thesatisfaction 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 goamong the muskets of his warriors, when he holds the spirit of the gray-head inhis hand?”

“Name your intention, Magua,” said Cora, struggling with herself tospeak with steady calmness. “Is it to lead us prisoners to the woods, ordo you contemplate even some greater evil? Is there no reward, no means ofpalliating the injury, and of softening your heart? At least, release my gentlesister, and pour out all your malice on me. Purchase wealth by her safety andsatisfy your revenge with a single victim. The loss of both his daughters mightbring the aged man to his grave, and where would then be the satisfaction of LeRenard?”

“Listen,” said the Indian again. “The light eyes can go backto the Horican, and tell the old chief what has been done, if the dark-hairedwoman will swear by the Great Spirit of her fathers to tell no lie.”

“What must I promise?” demanded Cora, still maintaining a secretascendancy over the fierce native by the collected and feminine dignity of herpresence.

“When Magua left his people his wife was given to another chief; he hasnow 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, sheretained, notwithstanding her powerful disgust, sufficient self-command toreply, without betraying the weakness.

“And what pleasure would Magua find in sharing his cabin with a wife hedid not love; one who would be of a nation and color different from his own? Itwould be better to take the gold of Munro, and buy the heart of some Huron maidwith his gifts.”

The Indian made no reply for near a minute, but bent his fierce looks on thecountenance of Cora, in such wavering glances, that her eyes sank with shame,under an impression that for the first time they had encountered an expressionthat no chaste female might endure. While she was shrinking within herself, indread of having her ears wounded by some proposal still more shocking than thelast, the voice of Magua answered, in its tones of deepest malignancy:

“When the blows scorched the back of the Huron, he would know where tofind a woman to feel the smart. The daughter of Munro would draw his water, hoehis corn, and cook his venison. The body of the gray-head would sleep among hiscannon, 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 couldmeditate 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 utmostmalice!”

The Indian answered this bold defiance by a ghastly smile, that showed anunaltered purpose, while he motioned her away, as if to close the conferenceforever. Cora, already regretting her precipitation, was obliged to comply, forMagua instantly left the spot, and approached his gluttonous comrades. Heywardflew to the side of the agitated female, and demanded the result of a dialoguethat he had watched at a distance with so much interest. But, unwilling toalarm the fears of Alice, she evaded a direct reply, betraying only by heranxious looks fastened on the slightest movements of her captors. To thereiterated and earnest questions of her sister concerning their probabledestination, 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 toher bosom.

“There, there; read our fortunes in their faces; we shall see; we shallsee!”

The action, and the choked utterance of Cora, spoke more impressively than anywords, and quickly drew the attention of her companions on that spot where herown was riveted with an intenseness that nothing but the importance of thestake could create.

When Magua reached the cluster of lolling savages, who, gorged with theirdisgusting meal, lay stretched on the earth in brutal indulgence, he commencedspeaking with the dignity of an Indian chief. The first syllables he utteredhad the effect to cause his listeners to raise themselves in attitudes ofrespectful attention. As the Huron used his native language, the prisoners,notwithstanding the caution of the natives had kept them within the swing oftheir tomahawks, could only conjecture the substance of his harangue from thenature of those significant gestures with which an Indian always illustrateshis eloquence.

At first, the language, as well as the action of Magua, appeared calm anddeliberative. When he had succeeded in sufficiently awakening the attention ofhis comrades, Heyward fancied, by his pointing so frequently toward thedirection of the great lakes, that he spoke of the land of their fathers, andof their distant tribe. Frequent indications of applause escaped the listeners,who, as they uttered the expressive “Hugh!” looked at each other incommendation of the speaker. Le Renard was too skillful to neglect hisadvantage. He now spoke of the long and painful route by which they had leftthose spacious grounds and happy villages, to come and battle against theenemies of their Canadian fathers. He enumerated the warriors of the party;their several merits; their frequent services to the nation; their wounds, andthe number of the scalps they had taken. Whenever he alluded to any present(and the subtle Indian neglected none), the dark countenance of the flatteredindividual gleamed with exultation, nor did he even hesitate to assert thetruth of the words, by gestures of applause and confirmation. Then the voice ofthe speaker fell, and lost the loud, animated tones of triumph with which hehad enumerated their deeds of success and victory. He described the cataract ofGlenn’s; the impregnable position of its rocky island, with its cavernsand its numerous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of “La LongueCarabine,” and paused until the forest beneath them had sent up the lastecho of a loud and long yell, with which the hated appellation was received. Hepointed toward the youthful military captive, and described the death of afavorite 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 anewthe terrors of his situation, his resolution and his death, on the branches ofa sapling; and, finally, he rapidly recounted the manner in which each of theirfriends had fallen, never failing to touch upon their courage, and their mostacknowledged virtues. When this recital of events was ended, his voice oncemore changed, and became plaintive and even musical, in its low gutturalsounds. 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 theirunavenged wrongs. Then suddenly lifting his voice to a pitch of terrificenergy, he concluded by demanding:

“Are the Hurons dogs to bear this? Who shall say to the wife of Menowguathat the fishes have his scalp, and that his nation have not taken revenge! Whowill dare meet the mother of Wassawattimie, that scornful woman, with his handsclean! What shall be said to the old men when they ask us for scalps, and wehave not a hair from a white head to give them! The women will point theirfingers at us. There is a dark spot on the names of the Hurons, and it must behid in blood!” His voice was no longer audible in the burst of rage whichnow 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 thespeaker was too plainly read by those most interested in his success throughthe medium of the countenances of the men he addressed. They had answered hismelancholy and mourning by sympathy and sorrow; his assertions, by gestures ofconfirmation; and his boasting, with the exultation of savages. When he spokeof courage, their looks were firm and responsive; when he alluded to theirinjuries, their eyes kindled with fury; when he mentioned the taunts of thewomen, they dropped their heads in shame; but when he pointed out their meansof vengeance, he struck a chord which never failed to thrill in the breast ofan Indian. With the first intimation that it was within their reach, the wholeband sprang upon their feet as one man; giving utterance to their rage in themost frantic cries, they rushed upon their prisoners in a body with drawnknives and uplifted tomahawks. Heyward threw himself between the sisters andthe foremost, whom he grappled with a desperate strength that for a momentchecked his violence. This unexpected resistance gave Magua time to interpose,and with rapid enunciation and animated gesture, he drew the attention of theband again to himself. In that language he knew so well how to assume, hediverted his comrades from their instant purpose, and invited them to prolongthe misery of their victims. His proposal was received with acclamations, andexecuted with the swiftness of thought.

Two powerful warriors cast themselves on Heyward, while another was occupied insecuring the less active singing-master. Neither of the captives, however,submitted without a desperate, though fruitless, struggle. Even David hurledhis assailant to the earth; nor was Heyward secured until the victory over hiscompanion enabled the Indians to direct their united force to that object. Hewas then bound and fastened to the body of the sapling, on whose branches Maguahad acted the pantomime of the falling Huron. When the young soldier regainedhis recollection, he had the painful certainty before his eyes that a commonfate was intended for the whole party. On his right was Cora in a durancesimilar to his own, pale and agitated, but with an eye whose steady look stillread the proceedings of their enemies. On his left, the withes which bound herto 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 herin prayer, but instead of looking upward toward that power which alone couldrescue them, her unconscious looks wandered to the countenance of Duncan withinfantile dependency. David had contended, and the novelty of the circumstanceheld 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 toexecute it with that barbarous ingenuity with which they were familiarized bythe practise of centuries. Some sought knots, to raise the blazing pile; onewas riving the splinters of pine, in order to pierce the flesh of theircaptives with the burning fragments; and others bent the tops of two saplingsto the earth, in order to suspend Heyward by the arms between the recoilingbranches. But the vengeance of Magua sought a deeper and more malignantenjoyment.

While the less refined monsters of the band prepared, before the eyes of thosewho were to suffer, these well-known and vulgar means of torture, he approachedCora, and pointed out, with the most malign expression of countenance, thespeedy fate that awaited her:

“Ha!” he added, “what says the daughter of Munro? Her head istoo good to find a pillow in the wigwam of Le Renard; will she like it betterwhen it rolls about this hill a plaything for the wolves? Her bosom cannotnurse 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 barbarousand ignorant savage, and knows not what he does. Let us find leisure, with ourdying breath, to ask for him penitence and pardon.”

“Pardon!” echoed the fierce Huron, mistaking in his anger, themeaning of her words; “the memory of an Indian is no longer than the armof the pale faces; his mercy shorter than their justice! Say; shall I send theyellow hair to her father, and will you follow Magua to the great lakes, tocarry 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 checkedthe barbarity of the Indian; “you mingle bitterness in my prayers; youstand between me and my God!”

The slight impression produced on the savage was, however, soon forgotten, andhe continued pointing, with taunting irony, toward Alice.

“Look! the child weeps! She is too young to die! Send her to Munro, tocomb 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 whoseeyes 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 countenancethat wavered with powerful and contending emotions. At length she spoke, thoughher tones had lost their rich and calm fullness, in an expression of tendernessthat seemed maternal.

“Alice,” she said, “the Huron offers us both life, nay, morethan both; he offers to restore Duncan, our invaluable Duncan, as well as you,to our friends—to our father—to our heart-stricken, childlessfather, if I will bow down this rebellious, stubborn pride of mine, andconsent—”

Her voice became choked, and clasping her hands, she looked upward, as ifseeking, in her agony, intelligence from a wisdom that was infinite.

“Say on,” cried Alice; “to what, dearest Cora? Oh! that theproffer were made to me! to save you, to cheer our aged father, to restoreDuncan, how cheerfully could I die!”

“Die!” repeated Cora, with a calmer and firmer voice, “thatwere easy! Perhaps the alternative may not be less so. He would have me,”she continued, her accents sinking under a deep consciousness of thedegradation of the proposal, “follow him to the wilderness; go to thehabitations 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 bysuch a sacrifice? Will you, Alice, receive it at my hands at such a price? Andyou, 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; thethought itself is worse than a thousand deaths.”

“That such would be your answer, I well knew!” exclaimed Cora, hercheeks flushing, and her dark eyes once more sparkling with the lingeringemotions of a woman. “What says my Alice? for her will I submit withoutanother murmur.”

Although both Heyward and Cora listened with painful suspense and the deepestattention, no sounds were heard in reply. It appeared as if the delicate andsensitive form of Alice would shrink into itself, as she listened to thisproposal. Her arms had fallen lengthwise before her, the fingers moving inslight convulsions; her head dropped upon her bosom, and her whole personseemed suspended against the tree, looking like some beautiful emblem of thewounded delicacy of her sex, devoid of animation and yet keenly conscious. In afew 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 tomahawkwith violence at the unresisting speaker

“Then die!” shouted Magua, hurling his tomahawk with violence atthe unresisting speaker, and gnashing his teeth with a rage that could nolonger be bridled at this sudden exhibition of firmness in the one he believedthe weakest of the party. The axe cleaved the air in front of Heyward, andcutting some of the flowing ringlets of Alice, quivered in the tree above herhead. The sight maddened Duncan to desperation. Collecting all his energies inone 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 theblow. They encountered, grappled, and fell to the earth together. The nakedbody of his antagonist afforded Heyward no means of holding his adversary, whoglided from his grasp, and rose again with one knee on his chest, pressing himdown with the weight of a giant. Duncan already saw the knife gleaming in theair, when a whistling sound swept past him, and was rather accompanied thanfollowed by the sharp crack of a rifle. He felt his breast relieved from theload it had endured; he saw the savage expression of his adversary’scountenance change to a look of vacant wildness, when the Indian fell dead onthe faded leaves by his side.

CHAPTER XII.

“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 theirband. But as they regarded the fatal accuracy of an aim which had dared toimmolate an enemy at so much hazard to a friend, the name of “La LongueCarabine” burst simultaneously from every lip, and was succeeded by awild and a sort of plaintive howl. The cry was answered by a loud shout from alittle thicket, where the incautious party had piled their arms; and at thenext moment, Hawkeye, too eager to load the rifle he had regained, was seenadvancing upon them, brandishing the clubbed weapon, and cutting the air withwide and powerful sweeps. Bold and rapid as was the progress of the scout, itwas exceeded by that of a light and vigorous form which, bounding past him,leaped, with incredible activity and daring, into the very center of theHurons, where it stood, whirling a tomahawk, and flourishing a glitteringknife, with fearful menaces, in front of Cora. Quicker than the thoughts couldfollow those unexpected and audacious movements, an image, armed in theemblematic panoply of death, glided before their eyes, and assumed athreatening attitude at the other’s side. The savage tormentors recoiledbefore these warlike intruders, and uttered, as they appeared in such quicksuccession, the often repeated and peculiar exclamations of surprise, followedby 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 ofthe assault at a glance, and encouraging his followers by his voice as well asby his example, he unsheathed his long and dangerous knife, and rushed with aloud whoop upon the expected Chingachgook. It was the signal for a generalcombat. Neither party had firearms, and the contest was to be decided in thedeadliest 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-directedblow of his tomahawk, cleft him to the brain. Heyward tore the weapon of Maguafrom the sapling, and rushed eagerly toward the fray. As the combatants werenow equal in number, each singled an opponent from the adverse band. The rushand 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 ofhis formidable weapon he beat down the slight and inartificial defenses of hisantagonist, crushing him to the earth with the blow. Heyward ventured to hurlthe tomahawk he had seized, too ardent to await the moment of closing. Itstruck the Indian he had selected on the forehead, and checked for an instanthis onward rush. Encouraged by this slight advantage, the impetuous young mancontinued his onset, and sprang upon his enemy with naked hands. A singleinstant was enough to assure him of the rashness of the measure, for heimmediately found himself fully engaged, with all his activity and courage, inendeavoring 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 abouthim, and succeeded in pinning the limbs of the other to his side, with an irongrasp, but one that was far too exhausting to himself to continue long. In thisextremity 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 headof his adversary, whose muscles appeared to wither under the shock, as he sankfrom the arms of Duncan, flexible and motionless.

When Uncas had brained his first antagonist, he turned, like a hungry lion, toseek another. The fifth and only Huron disengaged at the first onset had pauseda moment, and then seeing that all around him were employed in the deadlystrife, he had sought, with hellish vengeance, to complete the baffled work ofrevenge. Raising a shout of triumph, he sprang toward the defenseless Cora,sending his keen axe as the dreadful precursor of his approach. The tomahawkgrazed her shoulder, and cutting the withes which bound her to the tree, leftthe maiden at liberty to fly. She eluded the grasp of the savage, and recklessof her own safety, threw herself on the bosom of Alice, striving with convulsedand ill-directed fingers, to tear asunder the twigs which confined the personof her sister. Any other than a monster would have relented at such an act ofgenerous devotion to the best and purest affection; but the breast of the Huronwas a stranger to sympathy. Seizing Cora by the rich tresses which fell inconfusion about her form, he tore her from her frantic hold, and bowed her downwith brutal violence to her knees. The savage drew the flowing curls throughhis hand, and raising them on high with an outstretched arm, he passed theknife around the exquisitely molded head of his victim, with a taunting andexulting laugh. But he purchased this moment of fierce gratification with theloss of the fatal opportunity. It was just then the sight caught the eye ofUncas. Bounding from his footsteps he appeared for an instant darting throughthe air and descending in a ball he fell on the chest of his enemy, driving himmany yards from the spot, headlong and prostrate. The violence of the exertioncast the young Mohican at his side. They arose together, fought, and bled, eachin his turn. But the conflict was soon decided; the tomahawk of Heyward and therifle of Hawkeye descended on the skull of the Huron, at the same moment thatthe knife of Uncas reached his heart.

The battle was now entirely terminated with the exception of the protractedstruggle between “Le Renard Subtil” and “Le GrosSerpent.” Well did these barbarous warriors prove that they deservedthose significant names which had been bestowed for deeds in former wars. Whenthey engaged, some little time was lost in eluding the quick and vigorousthrusts which had been aimed at their lives. Suddenly darting on each other,they closed, and came to the earth, twisted together like twining serpents, inpliant and subtle folds. At the moment when the victors found themselvesunoccupied, the spot where these experienced and desperate combatants lay couldonly be distinguished by a cloud of dust and leaves, which moved from thecenter of the little plain toward its boundary, as if raised by the passage ofa whirlwind. Urged by the different motives of filial affection, friendship andgratitude, Heyward and his companions rushed with one accord to the place,encircling the little canopy of dust which hung above the warriors. In vain didUncas dart around the cloud, with a wish to strike his knife into the heart ofhis father’s foe; the threatening rifle of Hawkeye was raised andsuspended in vain, while Duncan endeavored to seize the limbs of the Huron withhands that appeared to have lost their power. Covered as they were with dustand blood, the swift evolutions of the combatants seemed to incorporate theirbodies into one. The death-like looking figure of the Mohican, and the darkform of the Huron, gleamed before their eyes in such quick and confusedsuccession, that the friends of the former knew not where to plant thesuccoring blow. It is true there were short and fleeting moments, when thefiery eyes of Magua were seen glittering, like the fabled organs of thebasilisk through the dusty wreath by which he was enveloped, and he read bythose short and deadly glances the fate of the combat in the presence of hisenemies; ere, however, any hostile hand could descend on his devoted head, itsplace was filled by the scowling visage of Chingachgook. In this manner thescene of the combat was removed from the center of the little plain to itsverge. The Mohican now found an opportunity to make a powerful thrust with hisknife; Magua suddenly relinquished his grasp, and fell backward without motion,and seemingly without life. His adversary leaped on his feet, making the archesof the forest ring with the sounds of triumph.

“Well done for the Delawares! victory to the Mohicans!” criedHawkeye, once more elevating the butt of the long and fatal rifle; “afinishing 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 theprecipice, and falling on his feet, was seen leaping, with a single bound, intothe center of a thicket of low bushes, which clung along its sides. TheDelawares, who had believed their enemy dead, uttered their exclamation ofsurprise, and were following with speed and clamor, like hounds in open view ofthe deer, when a shrill and peculiar cry from the scout instantly changed theirpurpose, and recalled them to the summit of the hill.

“’Twas like himself!” cried the inveterate forester, whoseprejudices contributed so largely to veil his natural sense of justice in allmatters which concerned the Mingoes; “a lying and deceitful varlet as heis. An honest Delaware now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain still, andbeen knocked on the head, but these knavish Maquas cling to life like so manycats-o’-the-mountain. Let him go—let him go; ’tis but oneman, 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, untilsuch time as he, and we too, may leave the prints of our moccasins over a longreach of sandy plain. See, Uncas,” he added, in Delaware, “yourfather is flaying the scalps already. It may be well to go round and feel thevagabonds that are left, or we may have another of them loping through thewoods, and screeching like a jay that has been winged.”

So saying the honest but implacable scout made the circuit of the dead, intowhose senseless bosoms he thrust his long knife, with as much coolness asthough they had been so many brute carcasses. He had, however, been anticipatedby the elder Mohican, who had already torn the emblems of victory from theunresisting heads of the slain.

But Uncas, denying his habits, we had almost said his nature, flew withinstinctive delicacy, accompanied by Heyward, to the assistance of the females,and quickly releasing Alice, placed her in the arms of Cora. We shall notattempt to describe the gratitude to the Almighty Disposer of Events whichglowed in the bosoms of the sisters, who were thus unexpectedly restored tolife and to each other. Their thanksgivings were deep and silent; the offeringsof their gentle spirits burning brightest and purest on the secret altars oftheir hearts; and their renovated and more earthly feelings exhibitingthemselves in long and fervent though speechless caresses. As Alice rose fromher knees, where she had sunk by the side of Cora, she threw herself on thebosom of the latter, and sobbed aloud the name of their aged father, while hersoft, dove-like eyes, sparkled with the rays of hope.

“We are saved! we are saved!” she murmured; “to return to thearms of our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be broken with grief. Andyou, too, Cora, my sister, my more than sister, my mother; you, too, arespared. And Duncan,” she added, looking round upon the youth with a smileof ineffable innocence, “even our own brave and noble Duncan has escapedwithout a hurt.”

To these ardent and nearly innocent words Cora made no other answer than bystraining the youthful speaker to her heart, as she bent over her in meltingtenderness. The manhood of Heyward felt no shame in dropping tears over thisspectacle of affectionate rapture; and Uncas stood, fresh and blood-stainedfrom the combat, a calm, and, apparently, an unmoved looker-on, it is true, butwith eyes that had already lost their fierceness, and were beaming with asympathy that elevated him far above the intelligence, and advanced himprobably centuries before, the practises of his nation.

During this display of emotions so natural in their situation, Hawkeye, whosevigilant distrust had satisfied itself that the Hurons, who disfigured theheavenly 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 usethem 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 mostof 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 partwith the little tooting instrument in your jacket to the first fool you meetwith, and buy some we’pon with the money, if it be only the barrel of ahorseman’s pistol. By industry and care, you might thus come to someprefarment; for by this time, I should think, your eyes would plainly tell youthat a carrion crow is a better bird than a mocking-thresher. The one will, atleast, remove foul sights from before the face of man, while the other is onlygood to brew disturbances in the woods, by cheating the ears of all that hearthem.”

“Arms and the clarion for the battle, but the song of thanksgiving to thevictory!” answered the liberated David. “Friend,” he added,thrusting forth his lean, delicate hand toward Hawkeye, in kindness, while hiseyes twinkled and grew moist, “I thank thee that the hairs of my headstill grow where they were first rooted by Providence; for, though those ofother men may be more glossy and curling, I have ever found mine own wellsuited to the brain they shelter. That I did not join myself to the battle, wasless owing to disinclination, than to the bonds of the heathen. Valiant andskillful hast thou proved thyself in the conflict, and I hereby thank thee,before proceeding to discharge other and more important duties, because thouhast proved thyself well worthy of a Christian’s praise.”

“The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see if you tarry longamong us,” returned the scout, a good deal softened toward the man ofsong, by this unequivocal expression of gratitude. “I have got back myold companion, ‘killdeer’,” he added, striking his hand onthe breech of his rifle; “and that in itself is a victory. These Iroquoisare cunning, but they outwitted themselves when they placed their firearms outof reach; and had Uncas or his father been gifted with only their common Indianpatience, we should have come in upon the knaves with three bullets instead ofone, and that would have made a finish of the whole pack; yon loping varlet, aswell as his commerades. But ’twas all fore-ordered, and for thebest.”

“Thou sayest well,” returned David, “and hast caught the truespirit of Christianity. He that is to be saved will be saved, and he that ispredestined to be damned will be damned. This is the doctrine of truth, andmost consoling and refreshing it is to the true believer.”

The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the state of his riflewith a species of parental assiduity, now looked up at the other in adispleasure that he did not affect to conceal, roughly interrupting furtherspeech.

“Doctrine or no doctrine,” said the sturdy woodsman,“’tis the belief of knaves, and the curse of an honest man. I cancredit that yonder Huron was to fall by my hand, for with my own eyes I haveseen it; but nothing short of being a witness will cause me to think he has metwith any reward, or that Chingachgook there will be condemned at the finalday.”

“You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor any covenant tosupport it,” cried David who was deeply tinctured with the subtledistinctions which, in his time, and more especially in his province, had beendrawn around the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by endeavoring topenetrate the awful mystery of the divine nature, supplying faith byself-sufficiency, and by consequence, involving those who reasoned from suchhuman dogmas in absurdities and doubt; “your temple is reared on thesands, and the first tempest will wash away its foundation. I demand yourauthorities for such an uncharitable assertion (like other advocates of asystem, David was not always accurate in his use of terms). Name chapter andverse; 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 yourold gals; and this good rifle on my knee for the feather of a goose’swing, my ox’s horn for a bottle of ink, and my leathern pouch for across-barred handkercher to carry my dinner? Book! what have such as I, who ama warrior of the wilderness, though a man without a cross, to do with books? Inever read but in one, and the words that are written there are too simple andtoo plain to need much schooling; though I may boast that of forty long andhard-working years.”

“What call you the volume?” said David, misconceiving theother’s meaning.

“’Tis open before your eyes,” returned the scout; “andhe who owns it is not a niggard of its use. I have heard it said that there aremen who read in books to convince themselves there is a God. I know not but manmay so deform his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so clearin the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and priests. If any suchthere be, and he will follow me from sun to sun, through the windings of theforest, he shall see enough to teach him that he is a fool, and that thegreatest of his folly lies in striving to rise to the level of One he can neverequal, be it in goodness, or be it in power.”

The instant David discovered that he battled with a disputant who imbibed hisfaith from the lights of nature, eschewing all subtleties of doctrine, hewillingly abandoned a controversy from which he believed neither profit norcredit was to be derived. While the scout was speaking, he had also seatedhimself, and producing the ready little volume and the iron-rimmed spectacles,he prepared to discharge a duty, which nothing but the unexpected assault hehad received in his orthodoxy could have so long suspended. He was, in truth, aminstrel of the western continent—of a much later day, certainly, thanthose 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 toexercise the cunning of his craft, in celebration of, or rather in thanksgivingfor, the recent victory. He waited patiently for Hawkeye to cease, then liftinghis eyes, together with his voice, he said, aloud:

“I invite you, friends, to join in praise for this signal deliverancefrom the hands of barbarians and infidels, to the comfortable and solemn tonesof 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 hadbeen wont to use in the temple. This time he was, however, without anyaccompaniment, for the sisters were just then pouring out those tendereffusions of affection which have been already alluded to. Nothing deterred bythe smallness of his audience, which, in truth, consisted only of thediscontented scout, he raised his voice, commencing and ending the sacred songwithout accident or interruption of any kind.

Hawkeye listened while he coolly adjusted his flint and reloaded his rifle; butthe sounds, wanting the extraneous assistance of scene and sympathy, failed toawaken his slumbering emotions. Never minstrel, or by whatever more suitablename David should be known, drew upon his talents in the presence of moreinsensible auditors; though considering the singleness and sincerity of hismotive, it is probable that no bard of profane song ever uttered notes thatascended so near to that throne where all homage and praise is due. The scoutshook his head, and muttering some unintelligible words, among which“throat” and “Iroquois” were alone audible, he walkedaway, to collect and to examine into the state of the captured arsenal of theHurons. In this office he was now joined by Chingachgook, who found his own, aswell as the rifle of his son, among the arms. Even Heyward and David werefurnished with weapons; nor was ammunition wanting to render them alleffectual.

When the foresters had made their selection, and distributed their prizes, thescout announced that the hour had arrived when it was necessary to move. Bythis time the song of Gamut had ceased, and the sisters had learned to stillthe exhibition of their emotions. Aided by Duncan and the younger Mohican, thetwo latter descended the precipitous sides of that hill which they had solately ascended under so very different auspices, and whose summit had sonearly proved the scene of their massacre. At the foot they found theNarragansetts browsing the herbage of the bushes, and having mounted, theyfollowed the movements of a guide, who, in the most deadly straits, had sooften 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 narrowdell, under the shade of a few water elms. Their distance from the base of thefatal hill was but a few rods, and the steeds had been serviceable only incrossing the shallow stream.

The scout and the Indians appeared to be familiar with the sequestered placewhere they now were; for, leaning their rifle against the trees, they commencedthrowing aside the dried leaves, and opening the blue clay, out of which aclear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing water, quickly bubbled. Thewhite man then looked about him, as though seeking for some object, which wasnot to be found as readily as he expected.

“Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tuscarora and Onondagabrethren, have been here slaking their thirst,” he muttered, “andthe vagabonds have thrown away the gourd! This is the way with benefits, whenthey are bestowed on such disremembering hounds! Here has the Lord laid hishand, in the midst of the howling wilderness, for their good, and raised afountain of water from the bowels of the ’arth, that might laugh at therichest shop of apothecary’s ware in all the colonies; and see! theknaves have trodden in the clay, and deformed the cleanliness of the place, asthough they were brute beasts, instead of human men.”

Uncas silently extended toward him the desired gourd, which the spleen ofHawkeye 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 groundwas 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 ofthe fragments of food left by the Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on hisarm.

“Thank you, lad!” he continued, returning the empty gourd to Uncas;“now we will see how these rampaging Hurons lived, when outlying inambushments. Look at this! The varlets know the better pieces of the deer; andone would think they might carve and roast a saddle, equal to the best cook inthe 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 givenatur’ a helping hand, after so long a trail.”

Heyward, perceiving that their guides now set about their repast in soberearnest, assisted the ladies to alight, and placed himself at their side, notunwilling to enjoy a few moments of grateful rest, after the bloody scene hehad just gone through. While the culinary process was in hand, curiosityinduced him to inquire into the circumstances which had led to their timely andunexpected 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 rakethe leaves over your bodies, but too late to have saved your scalps,”coolly answered the scout. “No, no; instead of throwing away strength andopportunity 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 wekept close. A difficult matter it was, too, to keep this Mohican boy snug inthe ambushment. Ah! Uncas, Uncas, your behavior was more like that of a curiouswoman than of a warrior on his scent.”

Uncas permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on the sturdy countenance ofthe speaker, but he neither spoke nor gave any indication of repentance. On thecontrary, Heyward thought the manner of the young Mohican was disdainful, ifnot a little fierce, and that he suppressed passions that were ready toexplode, as much in compliment to the listeners, as from the deference heusually paid to his white associate.

“You saw our capture?” Heyward next demanded.

“We heard it,” was the significant answer. “An Indian yell isplain language to men who have passed their days in the woods. But when youlanded, we were driven to crawl like sarpents, beneath the leaves; and then welost sight of you entirely, until we placed eyes on you again trussed to thetrees, and ready bound for an Indian massacre.”

“Our rescue was the deed of Providence. It was nearly a miracle that youdid not mistake the path, for the Hurons divided, and each band had itshorses.”

“Ay! there we were thrown off the scent, and might, indeed, have lost thetrail, had it not been for Uncas; we took the path, however, that led into thewilderness; for we judged, and judged rightly, that the savages would hold thatcourse 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 tooexpart 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 beashamed to own; to the judgment of the young Mohican, in matters which I shouldknow better than he, but which I can now hardly believe to be true, though myown 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 gentleones,” continued Hawkeye, glancing his eyes, not without curiousinterest, on the fillies of the ladies, “planted the legs of one side onthe ground at the same time, which is contrary to the movements of all trottingfour-footed animals of my knowledge, except the bear. And yet here are horsesthat always journey in this manner, as my own eyes have seen, and as theirtrail has shown for twenty long miles.”

“’Tis the merit of the animal! They come from the shores ofNarrangansett Bay, in the small province of Providence Plantations, and arecelebrated for their hardihood, and the ease of this peculiar movement; thoughother horses are not unfrequently trained to the same.”

“It may be—it may be,” said Hawkeye, who had listened withsingular attention to this explanation; “though I am a man who has thefull blood of the whites, my judgment in deer and beaver is greater than inbeasts of burden. Major Effingham has many noble chargers, but I have neverseen 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 withthe burdens it is often destined to bear.”

The Mohicans had suspended their operations about the glimmering fire tolisten; and, when Duncan had done, they looked at each other significantly, thefather uttering the never-failing exclamation of surprise. The scout ruminated,like a man digesting his newly-acquired knowledge, and once more stole a glanceat the horses.

“I dare to say there are even stranger sights to be seen in thesettlements!” he said, at length. “Natur’ is sadly abused byman, when he once gets the mastery. But, go sidling or go straight, Uncas hadseen the movement, and their trail led us on to the broken bush. The outerbranch, near the prints of one of the horses, was bent upward, as a lady breaksa flower from its stem, but all the rest were ragged and broken down, as if thestrong hand of a man had been tearing them! So I concluded that the cunningvarments had seen the twig bent, and had torn the rest, to make us believe abuck had been feeling the boughs with his antlers.”

“I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you; for some such thingoccurred!”

“That was easy to see,” added the scout, in no degree conscious ofhaving exhibited any extraordinary sagacity; “and a very different matterit was from a waddling horse! It then struck me the Mingoes would push for thisspring, for the knaves well know the vartue of its waters!”

“Is it, then, so famous?” demanded Heyward, examining, with a morecurious eye, the secluded dell, with its bubbling fountain, surrounded, as itwas, by earth of a deep, dingy brown.

“Few red-skins, who travel south and east of the great lakes but haveheard of its qualities. Will you taste for yourself?”

Heyward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little of the water, threw itaside with grimaces of discontent. The scout laughed in his silent butheartfelt manner, and shook his head with vast satisfaction.

“Ah! you want the flavor that one gets by habit; the time was when Iliked it as little as yourself; but I have come to my taste, and I now craveit, as a deer does the licks^[1].Your high-spiced wines are not better liked than a red-skin relishes thiswater; 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 beforeus.”

[1]Many of the animals of the American forests resort to those spots where saltsprings are found. These are called “licks” or “saltlicks,” in the language of the country, from the circumstance that thequadruped is often obliged to lick the earth, in order to obtain the salineparticles. These licks are great places of resort with the hunters, who waylaytheir game near the paths that lead to them.

Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, the scout had instantrecourse 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 Mohicanscommenced their humble meal, with the silence and characteristic diligence ofmen who ate in order to enable themselves to endure great and unremitting toil.

When this necessary, and, happily, grateful duty had been performed, each ofthe foresters stooped and took a long and parting draught at that solitary andsilent spring^[2],around which and its sister fountains, within fifty years, the wealth, beautyand talents of a hemisphere were to assemble in throngs, in pursuit of healthand pleasure. Then Hawkeye announced his determination to proceed. The sistersresumed their saddles; Duncan and David grapsed their rifles, and followed onfootsteps; the scout leading the advance, and the Mohicans bringing up therear. The whole party moved swiftly through the narrow path, toward the north,leaving the healing waters to mingle unheeded with the adjacent brooks and thebodies of the dead to fester on the neighboring mount, without the rites ofsepulture; a fate but too common to the warriors of the woods to excite eithercommiseration or comment.

[2]The scene of the foregoing incidents is on the spot where the village ofBallston now stands; one of the two principal watering places of America.

CHAPTER XIII.

“I’ll seek a readier path.”
—Parnell

The route taken by Hawkeye lay across those sandy plains, relived by occasionalvalleys and swells of land, which had been traversed by their party on themorning of the same day, with the baffled Magua for their guide. The sun hadnow fallen low toward the distant mountains; and as their journey lay throughthe interminable forest, the heat was no longer oppressive. Their progress, inconsequence, was proportionate; and long before the twilight gathered aboutthem, they had made good many toilsome miles on their return.

The hunter, like the savage whose place he filled, seemed to select among theblind signs of their wild route, with a species of instinct, seldom abating hisspeed, and never pausing to deliberate. A rapid and oblique glance at the mosson the trees, with an occasional upward gaze toward the setting sun, or asteady but passing look at the direction of the numerous water courses, throughwhich he waded, were sufficient to determine his path, and remove his greatestdifficulties. In the meantime, the forest began to change its hues, losing thatlively green which had embellished its arches, in the graver light which is theusual precursor of the close of day.

While the eyes of the sisters were endeavoring to catch glimpses through thetrees, of the flood of golden glory which formed a glittering halo around thesun, tinging here and there with ruby streaks, or bordering with narrow edgingsof shining yellow, a mass of clouds that lay piled at no great distance abovethe western hills, Hawkeye turned suddenly and pointing upward toward thegorgeous heavens, he spoke:

“Yonder is the signal given to man to seek his food and naturalrest,” he said; “better and wiser would it be, if he couldunderstand the signs of nature, and take a lesson from the fowls of the air andthe beasts of the field! Our night, however, will soon be over, for with themoon 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 threwup a work of blocks, to keep the ravenous varmints from handling our scalps. Ifmy marks do not fail me, we shall find the place a few rods further to ourleft.”

Without waiting for an assent, or, indeed, for any reply, the sturdy huntermoved boldly into a dense thicket of young chestnuts, shoving aside thebranches of the exuberant shoots which nearly covered the ground, like a manwho expected, at each step, to discover some object he had formerly known. Therecollection of the scout did not deceive him. After penetrating through thebrush, matted as it was with briars, for a few hundred feet, he entered an openspace, that surrounded a low, green hillock, which was crowned by the decayedblockhouse in question. This rude and neglected building was one of thosedeserted works, which, having been thrown up on an emergency, had beenabandoned with the disappearance of danger, and was now quietly crumbling inthe solitude of the forest, neglected and nearly forgotten, like thecircumstances which had caused it to be reared. Such memorials of the passageand struggles of man are yet frequent throughout the broad barrier ofwilderness which once separated the hostile provinces, and form a species ofruins that are intimately associated with the recollections of colonialhistory, and which are in appropriate keeping with the gloomy character of thesurrounding scenery. The roof of bark had long since fallen, and mingled withthe soil, but the huge logs of pine, which had been hastily thrown together,still preserved their relative positions, though one angle of the work hadgiven way under the pressure, and threatened a speedy downfall to the remainderof the rustic edifice. While Heyward and his companions hesitated to approach abuilding so decayed, Hawkeye and the Indians entered within the low walls, notonly without fear, but with obvious interest. While the former surveyed theruins, both internally and externally, with the curiosity of one whoserecollections were reviving at each moment, Chingachgook related to his son, inthe language of the Delawares, and with the pride of a conqueror, the briefhistory of the skirmish which had been fought, in his youth, in that secludedspot. A strain of melancholy, however, blended with his triumph, rendering hisvoice, as usual, soft and musical.

In the meantime, the sisters gladly dismounted, and prepared to enjoy theirhalt in the coolness of the evening, and in a security which they believednothing but the beasts of the forest could invade.

“Would not our resting-place have been more retired, my worthyfriend,” demanded the more vigilant Duncan, perceiving that the scout hadalready finished his short survey, “had we chosen a spot less known, andone more rarely visited than this?”

“Few live who know the blockhouse was ever raised,” was the slowand musing answer; “’tis not often that books are made, andnarratives written of such a scrimmage as was here fou’t atween theMohicans 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 scandalizedand wronged race. Forty days and forty nights did the imps crave our bloodaround this pile of logs, which I designed and partly reared, being, asyou’ll remember, no Indian myself, but a man without a cross. TheDelawares 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; Iwas then young, and new to the sight of blood; and not relishing the thoughtthat creatures who had spirits like myself should lay on the naked ground, tobe torn asunder by beasts, or to bleach in the rains, I buried the dead with myown hands, under that very little hillock where you have placed yourselves; andno bad seat does it make neither, though it be raised by the bones of mortalmen.”

Heyward and the sisters arose, on the instant, from the grassy sepulcher; norcould the two latter, notwithstanding the terrific scenes they had so recentlypassed through, entirely suppress an emotion of natural horror, when they foundthemselves in such familiar contact with the grave of the dead Mohawks. Thegray light, the gloomy little area of dark grass, surrounded by its border ofbrush, beyond which the pines rose, in breathing silence, apparently into thevery clouds, and the deathlike stillness of the vast forest, were all in unisonto deepen such a sensation. “They are gone, and they are harmless,”continued Hawkeye, waving his hand, with a melancholy smile at their manifestalarm; “they’ll never shout the war-whoop nor strike a blow withthe 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 Mohicanformed our war party; and you see before you all that are now left of hisrace.”

The eyes of the listeners involuntarily sought the forms of the Indians, with acompassionate interest in their desolate fortune. Their dark persons were stillto be seen within the shadows of the blockhouse, the son listening to therelation of his father with that sort of intenseness which would be created bya narrative that redounded so much to the honor of those whose names he hadlong 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 theirhands to those very Mohawks that you slew!”

“’Tis true in part,” returned the scout, “and yet, atthe 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 thathad the best right to the country, where they had settled themselves. TheMohicans, 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 truthdid the Delawares, when their eyes were open to their folly. You see before youa chief of the great Mohican Sagamores! Once his family could chase their deerover tracts of country wider than that which belongs to the Albany Patteroon,without crossing brook or hill that was not their own; but what is left oftheir descendant? He may find his six feet of earth when God chooses, and keepit in peace, perhaps, if he has a friend who will take the pains to sink hishead so low that the plowshares cannot reach it!”

“Enough!” said Heyward, apprehensive that the subject might lead toa discussion that would interrupt the harmony so necessary to the preservationof his fair companions; “we have journeyed far, and few among us areblessed with forms like that of yours, which seems to know neither fatigue norweakness.”

“The sinews and bones of a man carry me through it all,” said thehunter, surveying his muscular limbs with a simplicity that betrayed the honestpleasure the compliment afforded him; “there are larger and heavier mento be found in the settlements, but you might travel many days in a city beforeyou could meet one able to walk fifty miles without stopping to take breath, orwho has kept the hounds within hearing during a chase of hours. However, asflesh and blood are not always the same, it is quite reasonable to suppose thatthe gentle ones are willing to rest, after all they have seen and done thisday. Uncas, clear out the spring, while your father and I make a cover fortheir tender heads of these chestnut shoots, and a bed of grass andleaves.”

The dialogue ceased, while the hunter and his companions busied themselves inpreparations for the comfort and protection of those they guided. A spring,which many long years before had induced the natives to select the place fortheir temporary fortification, was soon cleared of leaves, and a fountain ofcrystal gushed from the bed, diffusing its waters over the verdant hillock. Acorner of the building was then roofed in such a manner as to exclude the heavydew of the climate, and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves were laidbeneath it for the sisters to repose on.

While the diligent woodsmen were employed in this manner, Cora and Alicepartook of that refreshment which duty required much more than inclinationprompted them to accept. They then retired within the walls, and first offeringup their thanksgivings for past mercies, and petitioning for a continuance ofthe Divine favor throughout the coming night, they laid their tender forms onthe fragrant couch, and in spite of recollections and forebodings, soon sankinto those slumbers which nature so imperiously demanded, and which weresweetened by hopes for the morrow. Duncan had prepared himself to pass thenight in watchfulness near them, just without the ruin, but the scout,perceiving his intention, pointed toward Chingachgook, as he coolly disposedhis own person on the grass, and said:

“The eyes of a white man are too heavy and too blind for such a watch asthis! The Mohican will be our sentinel, therefore let us sleep.”

“I proved myself a sluggard on my post during the past night,” saidHeyward, “and have less need of repose than you, who did more credit tothe character of a soldier. Let all the party seek their rest, then, while Ihold the guard.”

“If we lay among the white tents of the Sixtieth, and in front of anenemy like the French, I could not ask for a better watchman,” returnedthe scout; “but in the darkness and among the signs of the wildernessyour judgment would be like the folly of a child, and your vigilance thrownaway. Do then, like Uncas and myself, sleep, and sleep in safety.”

Heyward perceived, in truth, that the younger Indian had thrown his form on theside of the hillock while they were talking, like one who sought to make themost of the time allotted to rest, and that his example had been followed byDavid, whose voice literally “clove to his jaws,” with the fever ofhis wound, heightened, as it was, by their toilsome march. Unwilling to prolonga useless discussion, the young man affected to comply, by posting his backagainst the logs of the blockhouse, in a half recumbent posture, thoughresolutely determined, in his own mind, not to close an eye until he haddelivered his precious charge into the arms of Munro himself. Hawkeye,believing he had prevailed, soon fell asleep, and a silence as deep as thesolitude in which they had found it, pervaded the retired spot.

For many minutes Duncan succeeded in keeping his senses on the alert, and aliveto every moaning sound that arose from the forest. His vision became more acuteas the shades of evening settled on the place; and even after the stars wereglimmering above his head, he was able to distinguish the recumbent forms ofhis companions, as they lay stretched on the grass, and to note the person ofChingachgook, who sat upright and motionless as one of the trees which formedthe dark barrier on every side. He still heard the gentle breathings of thesisters, who lay within a few feet of him, and not a leaf was ruffled by thepassing 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 themoanings of an owl; his heavy eyes occasionally sought the bright rays of thestars, and he then fancied he saw them through the fallen lids. At instants ofmomentary wakefulness he mistook a bush for his associate sentinel; his headnext sank upon his shoulder, which, in its turn, sought the support of theground; and, finally, his whole person became relaxed and pliant, and the youngman 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, whosefavor he did not despair of gaining, by such a proof of devotion andwatchfulness.

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 hewas awakened by a light tap on the shoulder. Aroused by this signal, slight asit was, he sprang upon his feet with a confused recollection of theself-imposed duty he had assumed with the commencement of the night.

“Who comes?” he demanded, feeling for his sword, at the place whereit was usually suspended. “Speak! friend or enemy?”

“Friend,” replied the low voice of Chingachgook; who, pointingupward at the luminary which was shedding its mild light through the opening inthe 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 Iprepare my own companions for the march!”

“We are awake, Duncan,” said the soft, silvery tones of Alicewithin the building, “and ready to travel very fast after so refreshing asleep; but you have watched through the tedious night in our behalf, afterhaving 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, issuingfrom the shadows of the building into the light of the moon, in all theloveliness 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 allthese brave men endeavor to snatch a little sleep!”

“If shame could cure me of my drowsiness, I should never close an eyeagain,” said the uneasy youth, gazing at the ingenuous countenance ofAlice, where, however, in its sweet solicitude, he read nothing to confirm hishalf-awakened suspicion. “It is but too true, that after leading you intodanger by my heedlessness, I have not even the merit of guarding your pillowsas 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 betrayour watch.”

The young man was relieved from the awkwardness of making any furtherprotestations of his own demerits, by an exclamation from Chingachgook, and theattitude 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 scentdanger in the wind!”

“God forbid!” exclaimed Heyward. “Surely we have had enoughof bloodshed!”

While he spoke, however, the young soldier seized his rifle, and advancingtoward the front, prepared to atone for his venial remissness, by freelyexposing his life in defense of those he attended.

“’Tis some creature of the forest prowling around us in quest offood,” he said, in a whisper, as soon as the low, and apparently distantsounds, which had startled the Mohicans, reached his own ears.

“Hist!” returned the attentive scout; “’tis man; even Ican now tell his tread, poor as my senses are when compared to anIndian’s! That Scampering Huron has fallen in with one ofMontcalm’s outlying parties, and they have struck upon our trail. Ishouldn’t like, myself, to spill more human blood in this spot,” headded, looking around with anxiety in his features, at the dim objects by whichhe was surrounded; “but what must be, must! Lead the horses into theblockhouse, Uncas; and, friends, do you follow to the same shelter. Poor andold as it is, it offers a cover, and has rung with the crack of a rifle aforeto-night!”

He was instantly obeyed, the Mohicans leading the Narrangansetts within theruin, whither the whole party repaired with the most guarded silence.

The sound of approaching footsteps were now too distinctly audible to leave anydoubts as to the nature of the interruption. They were soon mingled with voicescalling 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 thepoint 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 onespot, mingling their different opinions and advice in noisy clamor.

“The knaves know our weakness,” whispered Hawkeye, who stood by theside of Heyward, in deep shade, looking through an opening in the logs,“or they wouldn’t indulge their idleness in such a squaw’smarch. 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 painfulsuspense, make any reply to the cool and characteristic remark of the scout. Heonly grasped his rifle more firmly, and fastened his eyes upon the narrowopening, through which he gazed upon the moonlight view with increasinganxiety. 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 ratheradvice, was received. After which, by the rustling of leaves, and crackling ofdried twigs, it was apparent the savages were separating in pursuit of the losttrail. Fortunately for the pursued, the light of the moon, while it shed aflood of mild luster upon the little area around the ruin, was not sufficientlystrong to penetrate the deep arches of the forest, where the objects still layin deceptive shadow. The search proved fruitless; for so short and sudden hadbeen the passage from the faint path the travelers had journeyed into thethicket, that every trace of their footsteps was lost in the obscurity of thewoods.

It was not long, however, before the restless savages were heard beating thebrush, and gradually approaching the inner edge of that dense border of youngchestnuts which encircled the little area.

“They are coming,” muttered Heyward, endeavoring to thrust hisrifle through the chink in the logs; “let us fire on theirapproach.”

“Keep everything in the shade,” returned the scout; “thesnapping 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 wemust give battle for the scalps, trust to the experience of men who know theways of the savages, and who are not often backward when the war-whoop ishowled.”

Duncan cast his eyes behind him, and saw that the trembling sisters werecowering in the far corner of the building, while the Mohicans stood in theshadow, like two upright posts, ready, and apparently willing, to strike whenthe blow should be needed. Curbing his impatience, he again looked out upon thearea, 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 hegazed upon the silent blockhouse, the moon fell upon his swarthy countenance,and betrayed its surprise and curiosity. He made the exclamation which usuallyaccompanies the former emotion in an Indian, and, calling in a low voice, soondrew a companion to his side.

These children of the woods stood together for several moments pointing at thecrumbling edifice, and conversing in the unintelligible language of theirtribe. They then approached, though with slow and cautious steps, pausing everyinstant to look at the building, like startled deer whose curiosity struggledpowerfully with their awakened apprehensions for the mastery. The foot of oneof them suddenly rested on the mound, and he stopped to examine its nature. Atthis moment, Heyward observed that the scout loosened his knife in its sheath,and lowered the muzzle of his rifle. Imitating these movements, the young manprepared himself for the struggle which now seemed inevitable.

The savages were so near, that the least motion in one of the horses, or even abreath louder than common, would have betrayed the fugitives. But indiscovering the character of the mound, the attention of the Hurons appeareddirected to a different object. They spoke together, and the sounds of theirvoices were low and solemn, as if influenced by a reverence that was deeplyblended with awe. Then they drew warily back, keeping their eyes riveted on theruin, as if they expected to see the apparitions of the dead issue from itssilent walls, until, having reached the boundary of the area, they moved slowlyinto the thicket and disappeared.

Hawkeye dropped the breech of his rifle to the earth, and drawing a long, freebreath, 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 withoutreplying, he again turned toward those who just then interested him more. Heheard the two Hurons leave the bushes, and it was soon plain that all thepursuers were gathered about them, in deep attention to their report. After afew minutes of earnest and solemn dialogue, altogether different from the noisyclamor with which they had first collected about the spot, the sounds grewfainter and more distant, and finally were lost in the depths of the forest.

Hawkeye waited until a signal from the listening Chingachgook assured him thatevery 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 sistersinto their saddles. The instant this was done they issued through the brokengateway, and stealing out by a direction opposite to the one by which theyentered, they quitted the spot, the sisters casting furtive glances at thesilent, grave and crumbling ruin, as they left the soft light of the moon, tobury themselves in the gloom of the woods.

CHAPTER XIV.

“Guard.—Qui est la?
Puc. —Paisans, pauvres gens de France.”
—King Henry VI

The scout resumed his post in the advance

During the rapid movement from the blockhouse, and until the party was deeplyburied in the forest, each individual was too much interested in the escape tohazard a word even in whispers. The scout resumed his post in advance, thoughhis 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 utterignorance of the localities of the surrounding woods. More than once he haltedto consult with his confederates, the Mohicans, pointing upward at the moon,and examining the barks of the trees with care. In these brief pauses, Heywardand the sisters listened, with senses rendered doubly acute by the danger, todetect any symptoms which might announce the proximity of their foes. At suchmoments, 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 andscarcely audible rippling of a water-course. Birds, beasts, and man, appearedto slumber alike, if, indeed, any of the latter were to be found in that widetract of wilderness. But the sounds of the rivulet, feeble and murmuring asthey were, relieved the guides at once from no trifling embarrassment, andtoward it they immediately held their way.

When the banks of the little stream were gained, Hawkeye made another halt; andtaking the moccasins from his feet, he invited Heyward and Gamut to follow hisexample. He then entered the water, and for near an hour they traveled in thebed of the brook, leaving no trail. The moon had already sunk into an immensepile of black clouds, which lay impending above the western horizon, when theyissued from the low and devious water-course to rise again to the light andlevel of the sandy but wooded plain. Here the scout seemed to be once more athome, for he held on this way with the certainty and diligence of a man whomoved 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 themon 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 wholeparty, he spoke, though in tones so low and cautious, that they added to thesolemnity 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-coursesof the wilderness,” he said; “but who that saw this spot couldventure to say, that a mighty army was at rest among yonder silent trees andbarren mountains?”

“We are, then, at no great distance from William Henry?” saidHeyward, advancing nigher to the scout.

“It is yet a long and weary path, and when and where to strike it is nowour greatest difficulty. See,” he said, pointing through the trees towarda 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 havenot only often traveled, but over which I have fou’t the enemy, from therising to the setting sun.”

“Ha! that sheet of dull and dreary water, then, is the sepulcher of thebrave men who fell in the contest. I have heard it named, but never have Istood on its banks before.”

“Three battles did we make with the Dutch-Frenchman^[1]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 ouroutward march to ambush his advance, and scattered us, like driven deer,through the defile, to the shores of Horican. Then we rallied behind our fallentrees, and made head against him, under Sir William—who was made SirWilliam for that very deed; and well did we pay him for the disgrace of themorning! Hundreds of Frenchmen saw the sun that day for the last time; and eventheir leader, Dieskau himself, fell into our hands, so cut and torn with thelead, that he has gone back to his own country, unfit for further acts inwar.”

[1]Baron Dieskau, a German, in the service of France. A few years previously tothe period of the tale, this officer was defeated by Sir William Johnson, ofJohnstown, New York, on the shores of Lake George.

“’Twas a noble repulse!” exclaimed Heyward, in the heat ofhis youthful ardor; “the fame of it reached us early, in our southernarmy.”

“Ay! but it did not end there. I was sent by Major Effingham, at SirWilliam’s own bidding, to outflank the French, and carry the tidings oftheir 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 downto our aid, and I led them where the enemy were taking their meal, littledreaming 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 cravingsof their appetites. We gave them but little breathing time, for they had bornehard upon us in the fight of the morning, and there were few in our party whohad not lost friend or relative by their hands.”

“When all was over, the dead, and some say the dying, were cast into thatlittle pond. These eyes have seen its waters colored with blood, as naturalwater never yet flowed from the bowels of the ’arth.”

“It was a convenient, and, I trust, will prove a peaceful grave for asoldier. You have then seen much service on this frontier?”

“Ay!” said the scout, erecting his tall person with an air ofmilitary pride; “there are not many echoes among these hills thathaven’t rung with the crack of my rifle, nor is there the space of asquare 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 beburied while the breath is in the body; and certain it is that in the hurry ofthat evening, the doctors had but little time to say who was living and who wasdead. Hist! see you nothing walking on the shore of the pond?”

“’Tis not probable that any are as houseless as ourselves in thisdreary forest.”

“Such as he may care but little for house or shelter, and night dew cannever 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 theyoung soldier painfully sensible how much superstitious terror had got themastery 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 achallenge from another world, issuing out of that solitary and solemn place.

“What says it?” whispered the scout; “it speaks neitherIndian nor English.”

“Qui vive?” repeated the same voice, which was quickly followed bythe rattling of arms, and a menacing attitude.

“France!” cried Heyward, advancing from the shadow of the trees tothe shore of the pond, within a few yards of the sentinel.

“D’ou venez-vous—ou allez-vous, d’aussi bonneheure?” demanded the grenadier, in the language and with the accent of aman from old France.

“Je viens de la découverte, et je vais me coucher.”

“Etes-vous officier du roi?”

“Sans doute, mon camarade; me prends-tu pour un provincial! Je suiscapitaine de chasseurs (Heyward well knew that the other was of a regiment inthe line); j’ai ici, avec moi, les filles du commandant de lafortification. Aha! tu en as entendu parler! je les ai fait prisonnières prèsde l’autre fort, et je les conduis au général.”

“Ma foi! mesdames; j’en suis faché pour vous,” exclaimed theyoung soldier, touching his cap with grace; “mais—fortune deguerre! vous trouverez notre général un brave homme, et bien poli avec lesdames.”

“C’est le caractere des gens de guerre,” said Cora, withadmirable self-possession. “Adieu, mon ami; je vous souhaiterais undevoir plus agréable a remplir.”

The soldier made a low and humble acknowledgment for her civility; and Heywardadding a “Bonne nuit, mon camarade,” they moved deliberatelyforward, leaving the sentinel pacing the banks of the silent pond, littlesuspecting an enemy of so much effrontery, and humming to himself those wordswhich were recalled to his mind by the sight of women, and, perhaps, byrecollections of his own distant and beautiful France:

“Vive le vin, vive l’amour,” &c., &c.

“’Tis well you understood the knave!” whispered the scout,when they had gained a little distance from the place, and letting his riflefall into the hollow of his arm again; “I soon saw that he was one ofthem uneasy Frenchers; and well for him it was that his speech was friendly andhis wishes kind, or a place might have been found for his bones among those ofhis 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 waterysepulcher.

“Surely it was of flesh,” continued the scout; “no spiritcould handle its arms so steadily.”

“It wasof flesh; but whether the poor fellow still belongs tothis world may well be doubted,” said Heyward, glancing his eyes aroundhim, and missing Chingachgook from their little band. Another groan more faintthan the former was succeeded by a heavy and sullen plunge into the water, andall was still again as if the borders of the dreary pool had never beenawakened 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 chiefrejoined them, with one hand he attached the reeking scalp of the unfortunateyoung Frenchman to his girdle, and with the other he replaced the knife andtomahawk that had drunk his blood. He then took his wonted station, with theair 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 onthe other, he stood musing in profound silence. Then, shaking his head in amournful 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 notbe denied. I could wish, though, it had befallen an accursed Mingo, rather thanthat gay young boy from the old countries.”

“Enough!” said Heyward, apprehensive the unconscious sisters mightcomprehend the nature of the detention, and conquering his disgust by a trainof reflections very much like that of the hunter; “’tis done; andthough better it were left undone, cannot be amended. You see, we are, tooobviously within the sentinels of the enemy; what course do you propose tofollow?”

“Yes,” said Hawkeye, rousing himself again; “’tis asyou say, too late to harbor further thoughts about it. Ay, the French havegathered around the fort in good earnest and we have a delicate needle tothread in passing them.”

“And but little time to do it in,” added Heyward, glancing his eyesupwards, toward the bank of vapor that concealed the setting moon.

“And little time to do it in!” repeated the scout. “The thingmay be done in two fashions, by the help of Providence, without which it maynot be done at all.”

“Name them quickly for time presses.”

“One would be to dismount the gentle ones, and let their beasts range theplain, by sending the Mohicans in front, we might then cut a lane through theirsentries, and enter the fort over the dead bodies.”

“It will not do—it will not do!” interrupted the generousHeyward; “a soldier might force his way in this manner, but never withsuch a convoy.”

“’Twould be, indeed, a bloody path for such tender feet to wadein,” returned the equally reluctant scout; “but I thought itbefitting my manhood to name it. We must, then, turn in our trail and getwithout the line of their lookouts, when we will bend short to the west, andenter the mountains; where I can hide you, so that all the devil’s houndsin Montcalm’s pay would be thrown off the scent for months tocome.”

“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 enteredtheir present critical and even dangerous situation. Their progress, like theirlate dialogue, was guarded, and without noise; for none knew at what moment apassing 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 andthe scout stole furtive glances at its appalling dreariness. They looked invain 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 waterswere not yet subsided, furnished a frightful memorial of the deed of blood theyhad just witnessed. Like all that passing and gloomy scene, the low basin,however, quickly melted in the darkness, and became blended with the mass ofblack objects in the rear of the travelers.

Hawkeye soon deviated from the line of their retreat, and striking off towardsthe mountains which form the western boundary of the narrow plain, he led hisfollowers, with swift steps, deep within the shadows that were cast from theirhigh and broken summits. The route was now painful; lying over ground raggedwith rocks, and intersected with ravines, and their progress proportionatelyslow. Bleak and black hills lay on every side of them, compensating in somedegree for the additional toil of the march by the sense of security theyimparted. 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 andsupported by the other, in a manner that showed it had been devised by men longpractised in the arts of the wilderness. As they gradually rose from the levelof the valleys, the thick darkness which usually precedes the approach of daybegan to disperse, and objects were seen in the plain and palpable colors withwhich they had been gifted by nature. When they issued from the stunted woodswhich clung to the barren sides of the mountain, upon a flat and mossy rockthat formed its summit, they met the morning, as it came blushing above thegreen pines of a hill that lay on the opposite side of the valley of theHorican.

The scout now told the sisters to dismount; and taking the bridles from themouths, and the saddles off the backs of the jaded beasts, he turned themloose, to glean a scanty subsistence among the shrubs and meager herbage ofthat elevated region.

“Go,” he said, “and seek your food where natur’ givesit 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, advancingtoward the eastern brow of the mountain, whither he beckoned for the wholeparty to follow; “if it was as easy to look into the heart of man as itis to spy out the nakedness of Montcalm’s camp from this spot, hypocriteswould 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 withwhich 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 formiles along the western shores of the lake, until meeting its sisters milesbeyond the water, it ran off toward the Canadas, in confused and broken massesof rock, thinly sprinkled with evergreens. Immediately at the feet of theparty, the southern shore of the Horican swept in a broad semicircle frommountain to mountain, marking a wide strand, that soon rose into an uneven andsomewhat elevated plain. To the north stretched the limpid, and, as it appearedfrom that dizzy height, the narrow sheet of the “holy lake,”indented with numberless bays, embellished by fantastic headlands, and dottedwith countless islands. At the distance of a few leagues, the bed of the waterbecame lost among mountains, or was wrapped in the masses of vapor that cameslowly rolling along their bosom, before a light morning air. But a narrowopening between the crests of the hills pointed out the passage by which theyfound their way still further north, to spread their pure and ample sheetsagain, before pouring out their tribute into the distant Champlain. To thesouth stretched the defile, or rather broken plain, so often mentioned. Forseveral miles in this direction, the mountains appeared reluctant to yieldtheir dominion, but within reach of the eye they diverged, and finally meltedinto the level and sandy lands, across which we have accompanied ouradventurers in their double journey. Along both ranges of hills, which boundedthe opposite sides of the lake and valley, clouds of light vapor were rising inspiral wreaths from the uninhabited woods, looking like the smoke of hiddencottages; or rolled lazily down the declivities, to mingle with the fogs of thelower land. A single, solitary, snow-white cloud floated above the valley, andmarked the spot beneath which lay the silent pool of the “bloodypond.”

Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its western than to itseastern margin, lay the extensive earthen ramparts and low buildings of WilliamHenry. Two of the sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the water which washedtheir bases, while a deep ditch and extensive morasses guarded its other sidesand angles. The land had been cleared of wood for a reasonable distance aroundthe 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 theirblack and naked heads above the undulating outline of the mountain ranges. Inits front might be seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary watch againsttheir numerous foes; and within the walls themselves, the travelers looked downupon men still drowsy with a night of vigilance. Toward the southeast, but inimmediate contact with the fort, was an entrenched camp, posted on a rockyeminence, that would have been far more eligible for the work itself, in whichHawkeye pointed out the presence of those auxiliary regiments that had sorecently left the Hudson in their company. From the woods, a little further tothe south, rose numerous dark and lurid smokes, that were easily to bedistinguished from the purer exhalations of the springs, and which the scoutalso showed to Heyward, as evidences that the enemy lay in force in thatdirection.

But the spectacle which most concerned the young soldier was on the westernbank of the lake, though quite near to its southern termination. On a strip ofland, which appeared from his stand too narrow to contain such an army, butwhich, in truth, extended many hundreds of yards from the shores of the Horicanto the base of the mountain, were to be seen the white tents and militaryengines of an encampment of ten thousand men. Batteries were already thrown upin 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 theirfeet, the roar of artillery rose from the valley, and passed off in thunderingechoes along the eastern hills.

“Morning is just touching them below,” said the deliberate andmusing scout, “and the watchers have a mind to wake up the sleepers bythe sound of cannon. We are a few hours too late! Montcalm has already filledthe woods with his accursed Iroquois.”

“The place is, indeed, invested,” returned Duncan; “but isthere no expedient by which we may enter? capture in the works would be farpreferable to falling again into the hands of roving Indians.”

“See!” exclaimed the scout, unconsciously directing the attentionof Cora to the quarters of her own father, “how that shot has made thestones fly from the side of the commandant’s house! Ay! these Frencherswill pull it to pieces faster than it was put together, solid and thick thoughit be!”

“Heyward, I sicken at the sight of danger that I cannot share,”said the undaunted but anxious daughter. “Let us go to Montcalm, anddemand admission: he dare not deny a child the boon.”

“You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman with the hair on yourhead”; said the blunt scout. “If I had but one of the thousandboats which lie empty along that shore, it might be done! Ha! here will soon bean end of the firing, for yonder comes a fog that will turn day to night, andmake an Indian arrow more dangerous than a molded cannon. Now, if you are equalto the work, and will follow, I will make a push; for I long to get down intothat camp, if it be only to scatter some Mingo dogs that I see lurking in theskirts of yonder thicket of birch.”

“We are equal,” said Cora, firmly; “on such an errand we willfollow to any danger.”

The scout turned to her with a smile of honest and cordial approbation, as heanswered:

“I would I had a thousand men, of brawny limbs and quick eyes, thatfeared death as little as you! I’d send them jabbering Frenchers backinto their den again, afore the week was ended, howling like so many fetteredhounds or hungry wolves. But, stir,” he added, turning from her to therest of the party, “the fog comes rolling down so fast, we shall have butjust the time to meet it on the plain, and use it as a cover. Remember, if anyaccident should befall me, to keep the air blowing on your leftcheeks—or, rather, follow the Mohicans; they’d scent their way, beit in day or be it at night.”

He then waved his hand for them to follow, and threw himself down the steepdeclivity, with free, but careful footsteps. Heyward assisted the sisters todescend, and in a few minutes they were all far down a mountain whose sidesthey had climbed with so much toil and pain.

The direction taken by Hawkeye soon brought the travelers to the level of theplain, 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 hehalted to allow Duncan to come up with his charge. In their eagerness, andfavored by the nature of the ground, they had anticipated the fog, which wasrolling heavily down the lake, and it became necessary to pause, until themists had wrapped the camp of the enemy in their fleecy mantle. The Mohicansprofited by the delay, to steal out of the woods, and to make a survey ofsurrounding objects. They were followed at a little distance by the scout, witha view to profit early by their report, and to obtain some faint knowledge forhimself of the more immediate localities.

In a very few moments he returned, his face reddened with vexation, while hemuttered his disappointment in words of no very gentle import.

“Here has the cunning Frenchman been posting a picket directly in ourpath,” he said; “red-skins and whites; and we shall be as likely tofall 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 orhow to find it again! The mists of Horican are not like the curls from apeace-pipe, or the smoke which settles above a mosquito fire.”

He was yet speaking, when a crashing sound was heard, and a cannon-ball enteredthe thicket, striking the body of a sapling, and rebounding to the earth, itsforce being much expended by previous resistance. The Indians followedinstantly like busy attendants on the terrible messenger, and Uncas commencedspeaking 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 yourexpectations.”

“’Tis soon done, and a small hope it is; but it is better thannothing. This shot that you see,” added the scout, kicking the harmlessiron with his foot, “has plowed the ’arth in its road from thefort, and we shall hunt for the furrow it has made, when all other signs mayfail. No more words, but follow, or the fog may leave us in the middle of ourpath, a mark for both armies to shoot at.”

Heyward perceiving that, in fact, a crisis had arrived, when acts were morerequired than words, placed himself between the sisters, and drew them swiftlyforward, keeping the dim figure of their leader in his eye. It was soonapparent that Hawkeye had not magnified the power of the fog, for before theyhad proceeded twenty yards, it was difficult for the different individuals ofthe party to distinguish each other in the vapor.

They had made their little circuit to the left, and were already incliningagain toward the right, having, as Heyward thought, got over nearly half thedistance to the friendly works, when his ears were saluted with the fiercesummons, apparently within twenty feet of them, of:

“Qui va là?”

“Push on!” whispered the scout, once more bending to the left.

“Push on!” repeated Heyward; when the summons was renewed by adozen voices, each of which seemed charged with menace.

“C’est moi,” cried Duncan, dragging rather than leading thosehe supported swiftly onward.

“Bête!—qui?—moi!”

“Ami de la France.”

“Tu m’as plus l’air d’un ennemide 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 offifty muskets. Happily, the aim was bad, and the bullets cut the air in adirection a little different from that taken by the fugitives; though still sonigh them, that to the unpractised ears of David and the two females, itappeared as if they whistled within a few inches of the organs. The outcry wasrenewed, and the order, not only to fire again, but to pursue, was too plainlyaudible. 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 asortie, and give way, or they will wait for reinforcements.”

The scheme was well conceived, but failed in its effects. The instant theFrench heard the pieces, it seemed as if the plain was alive with men, musketsrattling along its whole extent, from the shores of the lake to the furthestboundary of the woods.

“We shall draw their entire army upon us, and bring on a generalassault,” said Duncan: “lead on, my friend, for your own life andours.”

The scout seemed willing to comply; but, in the hurry of the moment, and in thechange of position, he had lost the direction. In vain he turned either cheektoward the light air; they felt equally cool. In this dilemma, Uncas lighted onthe furrow of the cannon ball, where it had cut the ground in three adjacentant-hills.

“Give me the range!” said Hawkeye, bending to catch a glimpse ofthe direction, and then instantly moving onward.

Cries, oaths, voices calling to each other, and the reports of muskets, werenow quick and incessant, and, apparently, on every side of them. Suddenly astrong glare of light flashed across the scene, the fog rolled upward in thickwreaths, and several cannons belched across the plain, and the roar was thrownheavily back from the bellowing echoes of the mountain.

“’Tis from the fort!” exclaimed Hawkeye, turning short on histracks; “and we, like stricken fools, were rushing to the woods, underthe very knives of the Maquas.”

The instant their mistake was rectified, the whole party retraced the errorwith the utmost diligence. Duncan willingly relinquished the support of Cora tothe arm of Uncas and Cora as readily accepted the welcome assistance. Men, hotand angry in pursuit, were evidently on their footsteps, and each instantthreatened their capture, if not their destruction.

“Point de quartier aux coquins!” cried an eager pursuer, who seemedto direct the operations of the enemy.

“Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant Sixtieths!” suddenlyexclaimed a voice above them; “wait to see the enemy, fire low and sweepthe 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 parentalagony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and rolling back in solemn echo.“’Tis she! God has restored me to my children! Throw open thesally-port; to the field, Sixtieths, to the field; pull not a trigger, lest yekill my lambs! Drive off these dogs of France with your steel.”

Duncan heard the grating of the rusty hinges, and darting to the spot, directedby the sound, he met a long line of dark red warriors, passing swiftly towardthe glacis. He knew them for his own battalion of the Royal Americans, andflying to their head, soon swept every trace of his pursuers from before theworks.

For an instant, Cora and Alice had stood trembling and bewildered by thisunexpected desertion; but before either had leisure for speech, or eventhought, an officer of gigantic frame, whose locks were bleached with years andservice, but whose air of military grandeur had been rather softened thandestroyed by time, rushed out of the body of mist, and folded them to hisbosom, while large scalding tears rolled down his pale and wrinkled cheeks, andhe exclaimed, in the peculiar accent of Scotland:

“For this I thank thee, Lord! Let danger come as it will, thy servant isnow prepared!”

CHAPTER XV.

“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 thedangers of the siege, which was vigorously pressed by a power, against whoseapproaches Munro possessed no competent means of resistance. It appeared as ifWebb, with his army, which lay slumbering on the banks of the Hudson, hadutterly forgotten the strait to which his countrymen were reduced. Montcalm hadfilled the woods of the portage with his savages, every yell and whoop fromwhom rang through the British encampment, chilling the hearts of men who werealready but too much disposed to magnify the danger.

Not so, however, with the besieged. Animated by the words, and stimulated bythe examples of their leaders, they had found their courage, and maintainedtheir ancient reputation, with a zeal that did justice to the stern characterof their commander. As if satisfied with the toil of marching through thewilderness to encounter his enemy, the French general, though of approvedskill, had neglected to seize the adjacent mountains; whence the besieged mighthave been exterminated with impunity, and which, in the more modern warfare ofthe country, would not have been neglected for a single hour. This sort ofcontempt for eminences, or rather dread of the labor of ascending them, mighthave been termed the besetting weakness of the warfare of the period. Itoriginated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in which, from the natureof the combats, and the density of the forests, fortresses were rare, andartillery next to useless. The carelessness engendered by these usagesdescended even to the war of the Revolution and lost the States the importantfortress of Ticonderoga opening a way for the army of Burgoyne into what wasthen 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 aneminence, whose difficulties, like those of Mount Defiance, have been sogreatly exaggerated, would, at the present time, prove fatal to the reputationof the engineer who had planned the works at their base, or to that of thegeneral 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 haveattempted to describe, in quest of information, health, or pleasure, or floatssteadily toward his object on those artificial waters which have sprung upunder the administration of a statesman^[1]who has dared to stake his political character on the hazardous issue, is notto suppose that his ancestors traversed those hills, or struggled with the samecurrents with equal facility. The transportation of a single heavy gun wasoften considered equal to a victory gained; if happily, the difficulties of thepassage had not so far separated it from its necessary concomitant, theammunition, as to render it no more than a useless tube of unwieldy iron.

[1]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 theresolute Scotsman who now defended William Henry. Though his adversaryneglected 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, thebesieged could only oppose the imperfect and hasty preparations of a fortressin the wilderness.

It was in the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, and the fourth of hisown service in it, that Major Heyward profited by a parley that had just beenbeaten, by repairing to the ramparts of one of the water bastions, to breathethe 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 theartillerists had hastened also to profit by the temporary suspension of theirarduous duties. The evening was delightfully calm, and the light air from thelimpid water fresh and soothing. It seemed as if, with the termination of theroar of artillery and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized the momentto assume her mildest and most captivating form. The sun poured down hisparting glory on the scene, without the oppression of those fierce rays thatbelong to the climate and the season. The mountains looked green, and fresh,and lovely, tempered with the milder light, or softened in shadow, as thinvapors floated between them and the sun. The numerous islands rested on thebosom of the Horican, some low and sunken, as if embedded in the waters, andothers appearing to hover about the element, in little hillocks of greenvelvet; among which the fishermen of the beleaguering army peacefully rowedtheir skiffs, or floated at rest on the glassy mirror in quiet pursuit of theiremployment.

The scene was at once animated and still. All that pertained to nature wassweet, or simply grand; while those parts which depended on the temper andmovements 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 truthwhich existed, not only to the acts, but it would seem, also, to the enmity ofthe combatants.

Behind these again swung, heavily opening and closing in silken folds, therival standards of England and France.

A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were drawing a net to the pebblybeach, within dangerous proximity to the sullen but silent cannon of the fort,while the eastern mountain was sending back the loud shouts and gay merrimentthat attended their sport. Some were rushing eagerly to enjoy the aquatic gamesof the lake, and others were already toiling their way up the neighboringhills, with the restless curiosity of their nation. To all these sports andpursuits, those of the enemy who watched the besieged, and the besiegedthemselves, were, however, merely the idle though sympathizing spectators. Hereand there a picket had, indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, which haddrawn 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 hourstolen 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 alreadymentioned, by the sounds of approaching footsteps. He walked to an angle of thebastion, 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 havingfallen into the power of his enemies. He was without his favorite weapon, andhis 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 oftenof late, that when Heyward first threw his careless glance on this group, heexpected to see another of the officers of the enemy, charged with a similaroffice but the instant he recognized the tall person and still sturdy thoughdowncast features of his friend, the woodsman, he started with surprise, andturned to descend from the bastion into the bosom of the work.

The sounds of other voices, however, caught his attention, and for a momentcaused him to forget his purpose. At the inner angle of the mound he met thesisters, walking along the parapet, in search, like himself, of air and relieffrom confinement. They had not met from that painful moment when he desertedthem on the plain, only to assure their safety. He had parted from them wornwith care, and jaded with fatigue; he now saw them refreshed and blooming,though timid and anxious. Under such an inducement it will cause no surprisethat the young man lost sight for a time, of other objects in order to addressthem. He was, however, anticipated by the voice of the ingenuous and youthfulAlice.

“Ah! thou tyrant! thou recreant knight! he who abandons his damsels inthe very lists,” she cried; “here have we been days, nay, ages,expecting you at our feet, imploring mercy and forgetfulness of your cravenbacksliding, or I should rather say, backrunning—for verily you fled inthe 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 thegraver and more thoughtful Cora. “In truth, we have a little wonder whyyou should so rigidly absent yourself from a place where the gratitude of thedaughters might receive the support of a parent’s thanks.”

“Your father himself could tell you, that, though absent from yourpresence, I have not been altogether forgetful of your safety,” returnedthe young man; “the mastery of yonder village of huts,” pointing tothe neighboring entrenched camp, “has been keenly disputed; and he whoholds it is sure to be possessed of this fort, and that which it contains. Mydays and nights have all been passed there since we separated, because Ithought that duty called me thither. But,” he added, with an air ofchagrin, which he endeavored, though unsuccessfully, to conceal, “had Ibeen aware that what I then believed a soldier’s conduct could be soconstrued, shame would have been added to the list of reasons.”

“Heyward! Duncan!” exclaimed Alice, bending forward to read hishalf-averted countenance, until a lock of her golden hair rested on her flushedcheek, and nearly concealed the tear that had started to her eye; “did Ithink this idle tongue of mine had pained you, I would silence it forever. Coracan say, if Cora would, how justly we have prized your services, and howdeep—I had almost said, how fervent—is our gratitude.”

“And will Cora attest the truth of this?” cried Duncan, sufferingthe 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 ofthe knight in the duty of a soldier?”

Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face toward the water, as iflooking on the sheet of the Horican. When she did bend her dark eyes on theyoung man, they were yet filled with an expression of anguish that at oncedrove every thought but that of kind solicitude from his mind.

“You are not well, dearest Miss Munro!” he exclaimed; “wehave trifled while you are in suffering!”

“’Tis nothing,” she answered, refusing his support withfeminine reserve. “That I cannot see the sunny side of the picture oflife, like this artless but ardent enthusiast,” she added, laying herhand lightly, but affectionately, on the arm of her sister, “is thepenalty 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 forthe daughter of a soldier whose greatest happiness is his honor and hismilitary renown.”

“Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances over which he hashad no control,” Duncan warmly replied. “But your words recall meto my own duty. I go now to your gallant father, to hear his determination inmatters 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 herhand, though her lip quivered, and her cheeks gradually became of ashlypaleness. “In every fortune, I know you will be an ornament and honor toyour sex. Alice, adieu”—his voice changed from admiration totenderness—“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 thegrassy steps of the bastion, and moving rapidly across the parade, he wasquickly in the presence of their father. Munro was pacing his narrow apartmentwith a disturbed air and gigantic strides as Duncan entered.

“You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward,” he said; “Iwas about to request this favor.”

“I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so warmly recommended hasreturned in custody of the French! I hope there is no reason to distrust hisfidelity?”

“The fidelity of ‘The Long Rifle’ is well known to me,”returned Munro, “and is above suspicion; though his usual good fortuneseems, at last, to have failed. Montcalm has got him, and with the accursedpoliteness of his nation, he has sent him in with a doleful tale, of‘knowing how I valued the fellow, he could not think of retaininghim.’ A Jesuitical way that, Major Duncan Heyward, of telling a man ofhis misfortunes!”

“But the general and his succor?”

“Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not seethem?” said the old soldier, laughing bitterly. “Hoot! hoot!you’re an impatient boy, sir, and cannot give the gentlemen leisure fortheir 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. Thereis a letter, it would seem, too; and that is the only agreeable part of thematter. For the customary attentions of your Marquis of Montcalm—Iwarrant me, Duncan, that he of Lothian would buy a dozen suchmarquisates—but if the news of the letter were bad, the gentility of thisFrench 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, thefellow’s grandfather taught the noble science of dancing.”

“But what says the scout? he has eyes and ears, and a tongue. What verbalreport does he make?”

“Oh! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he is free to tell allthat he has seen and heard. The whole amount is this; there is a fort of hismajesty’s on the banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of hisgracious highness of York, you’ll know; and it is well filled with armedmen, as such a work should be.”

“But was there no movement, no signs of any intention to advance to ourrelief?”

“There were the morning and evening parades; and when one of theprovincial loons—you’ll know, Duncan, you’re half a Scotsmanyourself—when one of them dropped his powder over his porretch, if ittouched the coals, it just burned!” Then, suddenly changing his bitter,ironical manner, to one more grave and thoughtful, he continued: “and yetthere might, and must be, something in that letter which it would be well toknow!”

“Our decision should be speedy,” said Duncan, gladly availinghimself of this change of humor, to press the more important objects of theirinterview; “I cannot conceal from you, sir, that the camp will not bemuch longer tenable; and I am sorry to add, that things appear no better in thefort; more than half the guns are bursted.”

“And how should it be otherwise? Some were fished from the bottom of thelake; some have been rusting in woods since the discovery of the country; andsome were never guns at all—mere privateersmen’s playthings! Do youthink, sir, you can have Woolwich Warren in the midst of a wilderness, threethousand miles from Great Britain?”

“The walls are crumbling about our ears, and provisions begin to failus,” 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 withthe dignity of his years and superior rank; “I should have served hismajesty for half a century, and earned these gray hairs in vain, were Iignorant 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, andsomething to ourselves. While there is hope of succor, this fortress will Idefend, though it be to be done with pebbles gathered on the lake shore. It isa sight of the letter, therefore, that we want, that we may know the intentionsof 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 othercivilities, invited me to a personal interview between the works and his owncamp; in order, as he says, to impart some additional information. Now, I thinkit would not be wise to show any undue solicitude to meet him, and I wouldemploy you, an officer of rank, as my substitute; for it would but ill comportwith the honor of Scotland to let it be said one of her gentlemen was outdonein civility by a native of any other country on earth.”

Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering into a discussion of thecomparative merits of national courtesy, Duncan cheerfully assented to supplythe place of the veteran in the approaching interview. A long and confidentialcommunication now succeeded, during which the young man received someadditional insight into his duty, from the experience and native acuteness ofhis 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 theadverse forces were, of course, dispensed with. The truce still existed, andwith a roll and beat of the drum, and covered by a little white flag, Duncanleft the sally-port, within ten minutes after his instructions were ended. Hewas received by the French officer in advance with the usual formalities, andimmediately accompanied to a distant marquee of the renowned soldier who ledthe forces of France.

The general of the enemy received the youthful messenger, surrounded by hisprincipal officers, and by a swarthy band of the native chiefs, who hadfollowed him to the field, with the warriors of their several tribes. Heywardpaused short, when, in glancing his eyes rapidly over the dark group of thelatter, he beheld the malignant countenance of Magua, regarding him with thecalm but sullen attention which marked the expression of that subtle savage. Aslight exclamation of surprise even burst from the lips of the young man, butinstantly, recollecting his errand, and the presence in which he stood, hesuppressed every appearance of emotion, and turned to the hostile leader, whohad already advanced a step to receive him.

The marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which we write, in the flower ofhis age, and, it may be added, in the zenith of his fortunes. But even in thatenviable situation, he was affable, and distinguished as much for his attentionto the forms of courtesy, as for that chivalrous courage which, only two shortyears afterward, induced him to throw away his life on the plains of Abraham.Du