The Last of the Mohicans

glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that,
notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without
a tenant. Thither, then, the scout proceeded, like a
prudent general, who was about to feel the advanced
positions of his enemy, before he hazarded the main attack.
Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he
represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening, where he
might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the
abiding place of David Gamut. Hither the faithful singing-master
had now brought himself, together with all his sorrows, his
apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the protection of
Providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person
came under the observation of the scout, in the manner just
mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in his assumed character,
was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections.
However implicit the faith of David was in the performance
of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct
supernatural agency in the management of modern morality.
In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability
of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the
subject of a bear's singing; and yet he had been assured of
the latter, on the testimony of his own exquisite organs.
There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to
the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He
was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which
occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his
arm, in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the
votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that
so lately described, except that he had covered his bald
head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved
sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his
captors.
The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in
which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the
sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the
subject of so much solemn deliberation. First making the
circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite
alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to
protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door,
into the very presence of Gamut. The position of the latter
brought the fire between them; and when Hawkeye had seated
himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two
remained regarding each other without speaking. The
suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved
too much for -- we will not say the philosophy -- but for
the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch-pipe,
and arose with a confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism.
"Dark and mysterious monster!" he exclaimed, while with
trembling hands he disposed of his auxiliary eyes, and
sought his never-failing resource in trouble, the gifted
version of the psalms; "I know not your nature nor intents;
but if aught you meditate against the person and rights of
one of the humblest servants of the temple, listen to the
inspired language of the youth of Israel, and repent."
The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well-known voice
replied:
"Put up the tooting we'pon, and teach your throat modesty.
Five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth
just now an hour of squalling."
"What art thou?" demanded David, utterly disqualified to
pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for
breath.
"A man like yourself; and one whose blood is as little
tainted by the cross of a bear, or an Indian, as your own.
Have you so soon forgotten from whom you received the
foolish instrument you hold in your hand?"
"Can these things be?" returned David, breathing more
freely, as the truth began to dawn upon him. "I have found
many marvels during my sojourn with the heathen, but surely
nothing to excel this."
"Come, come," returned Hawkeye, uncasing his honest
countenance, the better to assure the wavering confidence of
his companion; "you may see a skin, which, if it be not as
white as one of the gentle ones, has no tinge of red to it
that the winds of the heaven and the sun have not bestowed.
Now let us to business."
"First tell me of the maiden, and of the youth who so
bravely sought her," interrupted David.
"Ay, they are happily freed from the tomahawks of these
varlets. But can you put me on the scent of Uncas?"
"The young man is in bondage, and much I fear his death is
decreed. I greatly mourn that one so well disposed should
die in his ignorance, and I have sought a goodly hymn --"
"Can you lead me to him?"
"The task will not be difficult," returned David,
hesitating; "though I greatly fear your presence would
rather increase than mitigate his unhappy fortunes."
"No more words, but lead on," returned Hawkeye, concealing
his face again, and setting the example in his own person,
by instantly quitting the lodge.
As they proceeded, the scout ascertained that his companion
found access to Uncas, under privilege of his imaginary
infirmity, aided by the favor he had acquired with one of
the guards, who, in consequence of speaking a little
English, had been selected by David as the subject of a
religious conversion. How far the Huron comprehended the
intentions of his new friend may well be doubted; but as
exclusive attention is as flattering to a savage as to a
more civilized individual, it had produced the effect we
have mentioned. It is unnecessary to repeat the shrewd
manner with which the scout extracted these particulars from
the simple David; neither shall we dwell in this place on
the nature of the instruction he delivered, when completely
master of all the necessary facts; as the whole will be
sufficiently explained to the reader in the course of the
narrative.
The lodge in which Uncas was confined was in the very center
of the village, and in a situation, perhaps, more difficult
than any other to approach, or leave, without observation.
But it was not the policy of Hawkeye to affect the least
concealment. Presuming on his disguise, and his ability to
sustain the character he had assumed, he took the most plain
and direct route to the place. The hour, however, afforded
him some little of that protection which he appeared so much
to despise. The boys were already buried in sleep, and all
the women, and most of the warriors, had retired to their
lodges for the night. Four or five of the latter only
lingered about the door of the prison of Uncas, wary but
close observers of the manner of their captive.
At the sight of Gamut, accompanied by one in the well-known
masquerade of their most distinguished conjurer, they
readily made way for them both. Still they betrayed no
intention to depart. On the other hand, they were evidently
disposed to remain bound to the place by an additional
interest in the mysterious mummeries that they of course
expected from such a visit.
From the total inability of the scout to address the Hurons
in their own language, he was compelled to trust the
conversation entirely to David. Notwithstanding the
simplicity of the latter, he did ample justice to the
instructions he had received, more than fulfilling the
strongest hopes of his teacher.
"The Delawares are women!" he exclaimed, addressing himself
to the savage who had a slight understanding of the language
in which he spoke; "the Yengeese, my foolish countrymen,
have told them to take up the tomahawk, and strike their
fathers in the Canadas, and they have forgotten their sex.
Does my brother wish to hear 'Le Cerf Agile' ask for his
petticoats, and see him weep before the Hurons, at the
stake?"
The exclamation "Hugh!" delivered in a strong tone of
assent, announced the gratification the savage would receive
in witnessing such an exhibition of weakness in an enemy so
long hated and so much feared.
"Then let him step aside, and the cunning man will blow upon
the dog. Tell it to my brothers."
The Huron explained the meaning of David to his fellows,
who, in their turn, listened to the project with that sort
of satisfaction that their untamed spirits might be expected
to find in such a refinement in cruelty. They drew back a
little from the entrance and motioned to the supposed
conjurer to enter. But the bear, instead of obeying,
maintained the seat it had taken, and growled:
"The cunning man is afraid that his breath will blow upon
his brothers, and take away their courage too," continued
David, improving the hint he received; "they must stand
further off."
The Hurons, who would have deemed such a misfortune the
heaviest calamity that could befall them, fell back in a
body, taking a position where they were out of earshot,
though at the same time they could command a view of the
entrance to the lodge. Then, as if satisfied of their
safety, the scout left his position, and slowly entered the
place. It was silent and gloomy, being tenanted solely by
the captive, and lighted by the dying embers of a fire,
which had been used for the purposed of cookery.
Uncas occupied a distant corner, in a reclining attitude,
being rigidly bound, both hands and feet, by strong and
painful withes. When the frightful object first presented
itself to the young Mohican, he did not deign to bestow a
single glance on the animal. The scout, who had left David
at the door, to ascertain they were not observed, thought it
prudent to preserve his disguise until assured of their
privacy. Instead of speaking, therefore, he exerted himself
to enact one of the antics of the animal he represented.
The young Mohican, who at first believed his enemies had
sent in a real beast to torment him, and try his nerves,
detected in those performances that to Heyward had appeared
so accurate, certain blemishes, that at once betrayed the
counterfeit. Had Hawkeye been aware of the low estimation
in which the skillful Uncas held his representations, he
would probably have prolonged the entertainment a little in
pique. But the scornful expression of the young man's eye
admitted of so many constructions, that the worthy scout was
spared the mortification of such a discovery. As soon,
therefore, as David gave the preconcerted signal, a low
hissing sound was heard in the lodge in place of the fierce
growlings of the bear.
Uncas had cast his body back against the wall of the hut and
closed his eyes, as if willing to exclude so contemptible
and disagreeable an object from his sight. But the moment
the noise of the serpent was heard, he arose, and cast his
looks on each side of him, bending his head low, and turning
it inquiringly in every direction, until his keen eye rested
on the shaggy monster, where it remained riveted, as though
fixed by the power of a charm. Again the same sounds were
repeated, evidently proceeding from the mouth of the beast.
Once more the eyes of the youth roamed over the interior of
the lodge, and returning to the former resting place, he
uttered, in a deep, suppressed voice:
"Hawkeye!"
"Cut his bands," said Hawkeye to David, who just then
approached them.
The singer did as he was ordered, and Uncas found his limbs
released. At the same moment the dried skin of the animal
rattled, and presently the scout arose to his feet, in
proper person. The Mohican appeared to comprehend the
nature of the attempt his friend had made, intuitively,
neither tongue nor feature betraying another symptom of
surprise. When Hawkeye had cast his shaggy vestment, which
was done by simply loosing certain thongs of skin, he drew a
long, glittering knife, and put it in the hands of Uncas.
"The red Hurons are without," he said; "let us be ready."
At the same time he laid his finger significantly on another
similar weapon, both being the fruits of his prowess among
their enemies during the evening.
"We will go," said Uncas.
"Whither?"
"To the Tortoises; they are the children of my
grandfathers."
"Ay, lad," said the scout in English -- a language he was
apt to use when a little abstracted in mind; "the same blood
runs in your veins, I believe; but time and distance has a
little changed its color. What shall we do with the Mingoes
at the door? They count six, and this singer is as good as
nothing."
"The Hurons are boasters," said Uncas, scornfully; "their
'totem' is a moose, and they run like snails. The Delawares
are children of the tortoise, and they outstrip the deer."
"Ay, lad, there is truth in what you say; and I doubt not,
on a rush, you would pass the whole nation; and, in a
straight race of two miles, would be in, and get your breath
again, afore a knave of them all was within hearing of the
other village. But the gift of a white man lies more in his
arms than in his legs. As for myself, I can brain a Huron
as well as a better man; but when it comes to a race the
knaves would prove too much for me."
Uncas, who had already approached the door, in readiness to
lead the way, now recoiled, and placed himself, once more,
in the bottom of the lodge. But Hawkeye, who was too much
occupied with his own thoughts to note the movement,
continued speaking more to himself than to his companion.
"After all," he said, "it is unreasonable to keep one man in
bondage to the gifts of another. So, Uncas, you had better
take the lead, while I will put on the skin again, and trust
to cunning for want of speed."
The young Mohican made no reply, but quietly folded his
arms, and leaned his body against one of the upright posts
that supported the wall of the hut.
"Well," said the scout looking up at him, "why do you tarry?
There will be time enough for me, as the knaves will give
chase to you at first."
"Uncas will stay," was the calm reply.
"For what?"
"To fight with his father's brother, and die with the friend
of the Delawares."
"Ay, lad," returned Hawkeye, squeezing the hand of Uncas
between his own iron fingers; "'twould have been more like a
Mingo than a Mohican had you left me. But I thought I would
make the offer, seeing that youth commonly loves life.
Well, what can't be done by main courage, in war, must be
done by circumvention. Put on the skin; I doubt not you can
play the bear nearly as well as myself."
Whatever might have been the private opinion of Uncas of
their respective abilities in this particular, his grave
countenance manifested no opinion of his superiority. He
silently and expeditiously encased himself in the covering
of the beast, and then awaited such other movements as his
more aged companion saw fit to dictate.
"Now, friend," said Hawkeye, addressing David, "an exchange
of garments will be a great convenience to you, inasmuch as
you are but little accustomed to the make-shifts of the
wilderness. Here, take my hunting shirt and cap, and give
me your blanket and hat. You must trust me with the book
and spectacles, as well as the tooter, too; if we ever meet
again, in better times, you shall have all back again, with
many thanks into the bargain."
David parted with the several articles named with a
readiness that would have done great credit to his
liberality, had he not certainly profited, in many
particulars, by the exchange. Hawkeye was not long in
assuming his borrowed garments; and when his restless eyes
were hid behind the glasses, and his head was surmounted by
the triangular beaver, as their statures were not
dissimilar, he might readily have passed for the singer, by
starlight. As soon as these dispositions were made, the
scout turned to David, and gave him his parting
instructions.
"Are you much given to cowardice?" he bluntly asked, by way
of obtaining a suitable understanding of the whole case
before he ventured a prescription.
"My pursuits are peaceful, and my temper, I humbly trust, is
greatly given to mercy and love," returned David, a little
nettled at so direct an attack on his manhood; "but there
are none who can say that I have ever forgotten my faith in
the Lord, even in the greatest straits."
"Your chiefest danger will be at the moment when the savages
find out that they have been deceived. If you are not then
knocked on the head, your being a non-composser will protect
you; and you'll then have a good reason to expect to die in
your bed. If you stay, it must be to sit down here in the
shadow, and take the part of Uncas, until such times as the
cunning of the Indians discover the cheat, when, as I have
already said, your times of trial will come. So choose for
yourself -- to make a rush or tarry here."
"Even so," said David, firmly; "I will abide in the place of
the Delaware. Bravely and generously has he battled in my
behalf, and this, and more, will I dare in his service."
"You have spoken as a man, and like one who, under wiser
schooling, would have been brought to better things. Hold
your head down, and draw in your legs; their formation might
tell the truth too early. Keep silent as long as may be;
and it would be wise, when you do speak, to break out
suddenly in one of your shoutings, which will serve to
remind the Indians that you are not altogether as
responsible as men should be. If however, they take your
scalp, as I trust and believe they will not, depend on it,
Uncas and I will not forget the deed, but revenge it as
becomes true warriors and trusty friends."
"Hold!" said David, perceiving that with this assurance they
were about to leave him; "I am an unworthy and humble
follower of one who taught not the damnable principle of
revenge. Should I fall, therefore, seek no victims to my
manes, but rather forgive my destroyers; and if you remember
them at all, let it be in prayers for the enlightening of
their minds, and for their eternal welfare."
The scout hesitated, and appeared to muse.
"There is a principle in that," he said, "different from the
law of the woods; and yet it is fair and noble to reflect
upon." Then heaving a heavy sigh, probably among the last
he ever drew in pining for a condition he had so long
abandoned, he added: "it is what I would wish to practise
myself, as one without a cross of blood, though it is not
always easy to deal with an Indian as you would with a
fellow Christian. God bless you, friend; I do believe your
scent is not greatly wrong, when the matter is duly
considered, and keeping eternity before the eyes, though
much depends on the natural gifts, and the force of
temptation."
So saying, the scout returned and shook David cordially by
the hand; after which act of friendship he immediately left
the lodge, attended by the new representative of the beast.
The instant Hawkeye found himself under the observation of
the Hurons, he drew up his tall form in the rigid manner of
David, threw out his arm in the act of keeping time, and
commenced what he intended for an imitation of his psalmody.
Happily for the success of this delicate adventure, he had
to deal with ears but little practised in the concord of
sweet sounds, or the miserable effort would infallibly have
been detected. It was necessary to pass within a dangerous
proximity of the dark group of the savages, and the voice of
the scout grew louder as they drew nigher. When at the
nearest point the Huron who spoke the English thrust out an
arm, and stopped the supposed singing-master.
"The Delaware dog!" he said, leaning forward, and peering
through the dim light to catch the expression of the other's
features; "is he afraid? Will the Hurons hear his groans?"
A growl, so exceedingly fierce and natural, proceeded from
the beast, that the young Indian released his hold and
started aside, as if to assure himself that it was not a
veritable bear, and no counterfeit, that was rolling before
him. Hawkeye, who feared his voice would betray him to his
subtle enemies, gladly profited by the interruption, to
break out anew in such a burst of musical expression as
would, probably, in a more refined state of society have
been termed "a grand crash." Among his actual auditors,
however, it merely gave him an additional claim to that
respect which they never withhold from such as are believed
to be the subjects of mental alienation. The little knot on
Indians drew back in a body, and suffered, as they thought,
the conjurer and his inspired assistant to proceed.
It required no common exercise of fortitude in Uncas and the
scout to continue the dignified and deliberate pace they had
assumed in passing the lodge; especially as they immediately
perceived that curiosity had so far mastered fear, as to
induce the watchers to approach the hut, in order to witness
the effect of the incantations. The least injudicious or
impatient movement on the part of David might betray them,
and time was absolutely necessary to insure the safety of
the scout. The loud noise the latter conceived it politic
to continue, drew many curious gazers to the doors of the
different huts as thy passed; and once or twice a dark-looking
warrior stepped across their path, led to the act by
superstition and watchfulness. They were not, however,
interrupted, the darkness of the hour, and the boldness of
the attempt, proving their principal friends.
The adventurers had got clear of the village, and were now
swiftly approaching the shelter of the woods, when a loud
and long cry arose from the lodge where Uncas had been
confined. The Mohican started on his feet, and shook his
shaggy covering, as though the animal he counterfeited was
about to make some desperate effort.
"Hold!" said the scout, grasping his friend by the shoulder,
"let them yell again! 'Twas nothing but wonderment."
He had no occasion to delay, for at the next instant a burst
of cries filled the outer air, and ran along the whole
extent of the village. Uncas cast his skin, and stepped
forth in his own beautiful proportions. Hawkeye tapped him
lightly on the shoulder, and glided ahead.
"Now let the devils strike our scent!" said the scout,
tearing two rifles, with all their attendant accouterments,
from beneath a bush, and flourishing "killdeer" as he handed
Uncas his weapon; "two, at least, will find it to their
deaths."
Then, throwing their pieces to a low trail, like sportsmen
in readiness for their game, they dashed forward, and were
soon buried in the somber darkness of the forest.
CHAPTER 27
"Ant. I shall remember: When C'sar says Do this, it is
performed."--Julius Caesar
The impatience of the savages who lingered about the prison
of Uncas, as has been seen, had overcome their dread of the
conjurer's breath. They stole cautiously, and with beating
hearts, to a crevice, through which the faint light of the
fire was glimmering. For several minutes they mistook the
form of David for that of the prisoner; but the very
accident which Hawkeye had foreseen occurred. Tired of
keeping the extremities of his long person so near together,
the singer gradually suffered the lower limbs to extend
themselves, until one of his misshapen feet actually came in
contact with and shoved aside the embers of the fire. At
first the Hurons believed the Delaware had been thus
deformed by witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of
being observed, turned his head, and exposed his simple,
mild countenance, in place of the haughty lineaments of
their prisoner, it would have exceeded the credulity of even
a native to have doubted any longer. They rushed together
into the lodge, and, laying their hands, with but little
ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected the
imposition. Then arose the cry first heard by the
fugitives. It was succeeded by the most frantic and angry
demonstrations of vengeance. David, however, firm in his
determination to cover the retreat of his friends, was
compelled to believe that his own final hour had come.
Deprived of his book and his pipe, he was fain to trust to a
memory that rarely failed him on such subjects; and breaking
forth in a loud and impassioned strain, he endeavored to
smooth his passage into the other world by singing the
opening verse of a funeral anthem. The Indians were
seasonably reminded of his infirmity, and, rushing into the
open air, they aroused the village in the manner described.
A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the protection
of anything defensive. The sounds of the alarm were,
therefore, hardly uttered before two hundred men were afoot,
and ready for the battle or the chase, as either might be
required. The escape was soon known; and the whole tribe
crowded, in a body, around the council-lodge, impatiently
awaiting the instruction of their chiefs. In such a sudden
demand on their wisdom, the presence of the cunning Magua
could scarcely fail of being needed. His name was
mentioned, and all looked round in wonder that he did not
appear. Messengers were then despatched to his lodge
requiring his presence.
In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most discreet of
the young men were ordered to make the circuit of the
clearing, under cover of the woods, in order to ascertain
that their suspected neighbors, the Delawares, designed no
mischief. Women and children ran to and fro; and, in short,
the whole encampment exhibited another scene of wild and
savage confusion. Gradually, however, these symptoms of
disorder diminished; and in a few minutes the oldest and
most distinguished chiefs were assembled in the lodge, in
grave consultation.
The clamor of many voices soon announced that a party
approached, who might be expected to communicate some
intelligence that would explain the mystery of the novel
surprise. The crowd without gave way, and several warriors
entered the place, bringing with them the hapless conjurer,
who had been left so long by the scout in duress.
Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal estimation
among the Hurons, some believing implicitly in his power,
and others deeming him an impostor, he was now listened to
by all with the deepest attention. When his brief story was
ended, the father of the sick woman stepped forth, and, in a
few pithy expression, related, in his turn, what he knew.
These two narratives gave a proper direction to the
subsequent inquiries, which were now made with the
characteristic cunning of savages.
Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng to
the cavern, ten of the wisest and firmest among the chiefs
were selected to prosecute the investigation. As no time
was to be lost, the instant the choice was made the
individuals appointed rose in a body and left the place
without speaking. On reaching the entrance, the younger men
in advance made way for their seniors; and the whole
proceeded along the low, dark gallery, with the firmness of
warriors ready to devote themselves to the public good,
though, at the same time, secretly doubting the nature of
the power with which they were about to contend.
The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and gloomy.
The woman lay in her usual place and posture, though there
were those present who affirmed they had seen her borne to
the woods by the supposed "medicine of the white men." Such
a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale related by
the father caused all eyes to be turned on him. Chafed by
the silent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so
unaccountable a circumstance, the chief advanced to the side
of the bed, and, stooping, cast an incredulous look at the
features, as if distrusting their reality. His daughter was
dead.
The unerring feeling of nature for a moment prevailed and
the old warrior hid his eyes in sorrow. Then, recovering
his self-possession, he faced his companions, and, pointing
toward the corpse, he said, in the language of his people:
"The wife of my young man has left us! The Great Spirit is
angry with his children."
The mournful intelligence was received in solemn silence.
After a short pause, one of the elder Indians was about to
speak, when a dark-looking object was seen rolling out of an
adjoining apartment, into the very center of the room where
they stood. Ignorant of the nature of the beings they had
to deal with, the whole party drew back a little, and,
rising on end, exhibited the distorted but still fierce and
sullen features of Magua. The discovery was succeeded by a
general exclamation of amazement.
As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief was
understood, several knives appeared, and his limbs and
tongue were quickly released. The Huron arose, and shook
himself like a lion quitting his lair. Not a word escaped
him, though his hand played convulsively with the handle of
his knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole party,
as if they sought an object suited to the first burst of his
vengeance.
It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even David, that
they were all beyond the reach of his arm at such a moment;
for, assuredly, no refinement in cruelty would then have
deferred their deaths, in opposition to the promptings of
the fierce temper that nearly choked him. Meeting
everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the savage grated
his teeth together like rasps of iron, and swallowed his
passion for want of a victim on whom to vent it. This
exhibition of anger was noted by all present; and from an
apprehension of exasperating a temper that was already
chafed nearly to madness, several minutes were suffered to
pass before another word was uttered. When, however,
suitable time had elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.
"My friend has found an enemy," he said. "Is he nigh that
the Hurons might take revenge?"
"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of
thunder.
Another longer and expressive silence was observed, and was
broken, as before, with due precaution, by the same
individual.
"The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far," he said; "but
my young men are on his trail."
"Is he gone?" demanded Magua, in tones so deep and guttural,
that they seemed to proceed from his inmost chest.
"An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware has
blinded our eyes."
"An evil spirit!" repeated the other, mockingly; "'tis the
spirit that has taken the lives of so many Hurons; the
spirit that slew my young men at 'the tumbling river'; that
took their scalps at the 'healing spring'; and who has, now,
bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil!"
"Of whom does my friend speak?"
"Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a Huron
under a pale skin -- La Longue Carabine."
The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the usual
effect among his auditors. But when time was given for
reflection, and the warriors remembered that their
formidable and daring enemy had even been in the bosom of
their encampment, working injury, fearful rage took the
place of wonder, and all those fierce passions with which
the bosom of Magua had just been struggling were suddenly
transferred to his companions. Some among them gnashed
their teeth in anger, others vented their feelings in yells,
and some, again, beat the air as frantically as if the
object of their resentment were suffering under their blows.
But this sudden outbreaking of temper as quickly subsided in
the still and sullen restraint they most affected in their
moments of inaction.
Magua, who had in his turn found leisure for reflection, now
changed his manner, and assumed the air of one who knew how
to think and act with a dignity worthy of so grave a
subject.
"Let us go to my people," he said; "they wait for us."
His companions consented in silence, and the whole of the
savage party left the cavern and returned to the council-lodge.
When they were seated, all eyes turned on Magua, who
understood, from such an indication, that, by common
consent, they had devolved the duty of relating what had
passed on him. He arose, and told his tale without
duplicity or reservation. The whole deception practised by
both Duncan and Hawkeye was, of course, laid naked, and no
room was found, even for the most superstitious of the
tribe, any longer to affix a doubt on the character of the
occurrences. It was but too apparent that they had been
insultingly, shamefully, disgracefully deceived. When he
had ended, and resumed his seat, the collected tribe -- for
his auditors, in substance, included all the fighting men of
the party -- sat regarding each other like men astonished
equally at the audacity and the success of their enemies.
The next consideration, however, was the means and
opportunities for revenge.
Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the fugitives;
and then the chiefs applied themselves, in earnest, to the
business of consultation. Many different expedients were
proposed by the elder warriors, in succession, to all of
which Magua was a silent and respectful listener. That
subtle savage had recovered his artifice and self-command,
and now proceeded toward his object with his customary
caution and skill. It was only when each one disposed to
speak had uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to
advance his own opinions. They were given with additional
weight from the circumstance that some of the runners had
already returned, and reported that their enemies had been
traced so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought
safety in the neighboring camp of their suspected allies,
the Delawares. With the advantage of possessing this
important intelligence, the chief warily laid his plans
before his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated from
his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without a
dissenting voice. They were, briefly, as follows, both in
opinions and in motives.
It has been already stated that, in obedience to a policy
rarely departed from, the sisters were separated so soon as
they reached the Huron village. Magua had early discovered
that in retaining the person of Alice, he possessed the most
effectual check on Cora. When they parted, therefore, he
kept the former within reach of his hand, consigning the one
he most valued to the keeping of their allies. The
arrangement was understood to be merely temporary, and was
made as much with a view to flatter his neighbors as in
obedience to the invariable rule of Indian policy.
While goaded incessantly by these revengeful impulses that
in a savage seldom slumber, the chief was still attentive to
his more permanent personal interests. The follies and
disloyalty committed in his youth were to be expiated by a
long and painful penance, ere he could be restored to the
full enjoyment of the confidence of his ancient people; and
without confidence there could be no authority in an Indian
tribe. In this delicate and arduous situation, the crafty
native had neglected no means of increasing his influence;
and one of the happiest of his expedients had been the
success with which he had cultivated the favor of their
powerful and dangerous neighbors. The result of his
experiment had answered all the expectations of his policy;
for the Hurons were in no degree exempt from that governing
principle of nature, which induces man to value his gifts
precisely in the degree that they are appreciated by others.
But, while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to
general considerations, Magua never lost sight of his
individual motives. The latter had been frustrated by the
unlooked-for events which had placed all his prisoners
beyond his control; and he now found himself reduced to the
necessity of suing for favors to those whom it had so lately
been his policy to oblige.
Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacherous
schemes to surprise the Delawares and, by gaining possession
of their camp, to recover their prisoners by the same blow;
for all agreed that their honor, their interests, and the
peace and happiness of their dead countrymen, imperiously
required them speedily to immolate some victims to their
revenge. But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of such
doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in defeating.
He exposed their risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and
it was only after he had removed every impediment, in the
shape of opposing advice, that he ventured to propose his
own projects.
He commenced by flattering the self-love of his auditors; a
never-failing method of commanding attention. When he had
enumerated the many different occasions on which the Hurons
had exhibited their courage and prowess, in the punishment
of insults, he digressed in a high encomium on the virtue of
wisdom. He painted the quality as forming the great point
of difference between the beaver and other brutes; between
the brutes and men; and, finally, between the Hurons, in
particular, and the rest of the human race. After he had
sufficiently extolled the property of discretion, he
undertook to exhibit in what manner its use was applicable
to the present situation of their tribe. On the one hand,
he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the
Canadas, who had looked upon his children with a hard eye
since their tomahawks had been so red; on the other, a
people as numerous as themselves, who spoke a different
language, possessed different interests, and loved them not,
and who would be glad of any pretense to bring them in
disgrace with the great white chief. Then he spoke of their
necessities; of the gifts they had a right to expect for
their past services; of their distance from their proper
hunting-grounds and native villages; and of the necessity of
consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in so
critical circumstances. When he perceived that, while the
old men applauded his moderation, many of the fiercest and
most distinguished of the warriors listened to these politic
plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led them back to the
subject which they most loved. He spoke openly of the
fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would be
a complete and final triumph over their enemies. He even
darkly hinted that their success might be extended, with
proper caution, in such a manner as to include the
destruction of all whom they had reason to hate. In short,
he so blended the warlike with the artful, the obvious with
the obscure, as to flatter the propensities of both parties,
and to leave to each subject of hope, while neither could
say it clearly comprehended his intentions.
The orator, or the politician, who can produce such a state
of things, is commonly popular with his contemporaries,
however he may be treated by posterity. All perceived that
more was meant than was uttered, and each one believed that
the hidden meaning was precisely such as his own faculties
enabled him to understand, or his own wishes led him to
anticipate.
In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that the
management of Magua prevailed. The tribe consented to act
with deliberation, and with one voice they committed the
direction of the whole affair to the government of the chief
who had suggested such wise and intelligible expedients.
Magua had now attained one great object of all his cunning
and enterprise. The ground he had lost in the favor of his
people was completely regained, and he found himself even
placed at the head of affairs. He was, in truth, their
ruler; and, so long as he could maintain his popularity, no
monarch could be more despotic, especially while the tribe
continued in a hostile country. Throwing off, therefore,
the appearance of consultation, he assumed the grave air of
authority necessary to support the dignity of his office.
Runners were despatched for intelligence in different
directions; spies were ordered to approach and feel the
encampment of the Delawares; the warriors were dismissed to
their lodges, with an intimation that their services would
soon be needed; and the women and children were ordered to
retire, with a warning that it was their province to be
silent. When these several arrangements were made, Magua
passed through the village, stopping here and there to pay a
visit where he thought his presence might be flattering to
the individual. He confirmed his friends in their
confidence, fixed the wavering, and gratified all. Then he
sought his own lodge. The wife the Huron chief had
abandoned, when he was chased from among his people, was
dead. Children he had none; and he now occupied a hut,
without companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the
dilapidated and solitary structure in which David had been
discovered, and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on
those few occasions when they met, with the contemptuous
indifference of a haughty superiority.
Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy were
ended. While others slept, however, he neither knew or
sought repose. Had there been one sufficiently curious to
have watched the movements of the newly elected chief, he
would have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge, musing
on the subject of his future plans, from the hour of his
retirement to the time he had appointed for the warriors to
assemble again. Occasionally the air breathed through the
crevices of the hut, and the low flame that fluttered about
the embers of the fire threw their wavering light on the
person of the sullen recluse. At such moments it would not
have been difficult to have fancied the dusky savage the
Prince of Darkness brooding on his own fancied wrongs, and
plotting evil.
Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after warrior
entered the solitary hut of Magua, until they had collected
to the number of twenty. Each bore his rifle, and all the
other accouterments of war, though the paint was uniformly
peaceful. The entrance of these fierce-looking beings was
unnoticed: some seating themselves in the shadows of the
place, and others standing like motionless statues, until
the whole of the designated band was collected.
Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, marching
himself in advance. They followed their leader singly, and
in that well-known order which has obtained the
distinguishing appellation of "Indian file." Unlike other
men engaged in the spirit-stirring business of war, they
stole from their camp unostentatiously and unobserved
resembling a band of gliding specters, more than warriors
seeking the bubble reputation by deeds of desperate daring.
Instead of taking the path which led directly toward the
camp of the Delawares, Magua led his party for some distance
down the windings of the stream, and along the little
artificial lake of the beavers. The day began to dawn as
they entered the clearing which had been formed by those
sagacious and industrious animals. Though Magua, who had
resumed his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox on the
dressed skin which formed his robe, there was one chief of
his party who carried the beaver as his peculiar symbol, or
"totem." There would have been a species of profanity in
the omission, had this man passed so powerful a community of
his fancied kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his
regard. Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as kind
and friendly as if he were addressing more intelligent
beings. He called the animals his cousins, and reminded
them that his protecting influence was the reason they
remained unharmed, while many avaricious traders were
prompting the Indians to take their lives. He promised a
continuance of his favors, and admonished them to be
grateful. After which, he spoke of the expedition in which
he was himself engaged, and intimated, though with
sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency of
bestowing on their relative a portion of that wisdom for
which they were so renowned.*
* These harangues of the beasts were frequent among
the Indians. They often address their victims in this way,
reproaching them for cowardice or commending their
resolution, as they may happen to exhibit fortitude or the
reverse, in suffering.
During the utterance of this extraordinary address, the
companions of the speaker were as grave and as attentive to
his language as though they were all equally impressed with
its propriety. Once or twice black objects were seen rising
to the surface of the water, and the Huron expressed
pleasure, conceiving that his words were not bestowed in
vain. Just as he ended his address, the head of a large
beaver was thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen
walls had been much injured, and which the party had
believed, from its situation, to be uninhabited. Such an
extraordinary sign of confidence was received by the orator
as a highly favorable omen; and though the animal retreated
a little precipitately, he was lavish of his thanks and
commendations.
When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost in
gratifying the family affection of the warrior, he again
made the signal to proceed. As the Indians moved away in a
body, and with a step that would have been inaudible to the
ears of any common man, the same venerable-looking beaver
once more ventured his head from its cover. Had any of the
Hurons turned to look behind them, they would have seen the
animal watching their movements with an interest and
sagacity that might easily have been mistaken for reason.
Indeed, so very distinct and intelligible were the devices
of the quadruped, that even the most experienced observer
would have been at a loss to account for its actions, until
the moment when the party entered the forest, when the whole
would have been explained, by seeing the entire animal issue
from the lodge, uncasing, by the act, the grave features of
Chingachgook from his mask of fur.
CHAPTER 28
"Brief, I pray for you; for you see, 'tis a busy time with
me."--Much Ado About Nothing
The tribe, or rather half tribe, of Delawares, which has
been so often mentioned, and whose present place of
encampment was so nigh the temporary village of the Hurons,
could assemble about an equal number of warriors with the
latter people. Like their neighbors, they had followed
Montcalm into the territories of the English crown, and were
making heavy and serious inroads on the hunting-grounds of
the Mohawks; though they had seen fit, with the mysterious
reserve so common among the natives, to withhold their
assistance at the moment when it was most required. The
French had accounted for this unexpected defection on the
part of their ally in various ways. It was the prevalent
opinion, however, that they had been influenced by
veneration for the ancient treaty, that had once made them
dependent on the Six Nations for military protection, and
now rendered them reluctant to encounter their former
masters. As for the tribe itself, it had been content to
announce to Montcalm, through his emissaries, with Indian
brevity, that their hatchets were dull, and time was
necessary to sharpen them. The politic captain of the
Canadas had deemed it wiser to submit to entertain a passive
friend, than by any acts of ill-judged severity to convert
him into an open enemy.
On that morning when Magua led his silent party from the
settlement of the beavers into the forests, in the manner
described, the sun rose upon the Delaware encampment as if
it had suddenly burst upon a busy people, actively employed
in all the customary avocations of high noon. The women ran
from lodge to lodge, some engaged in preparing their
morning's meal, a few earnestly bent on seeking the comforts
necessary to their habits, but more pausing to exchange
hasty and whispered sentences with their friends. The
warriors were lounging in groups, musing more than they
conversed and when a few words were uttered, speaking like
men who deeply weighed their opinions. The instruments of
the chase were to be seen in abundance among the lodges; but
none departed. Here and there a warrior was examining his
arms, with an attention that is rarely bestowed on the
implements, when no other enemy than the beasts of the
forest is expected to be encountered. And occasionally, the
eyes of a whole group were turned simultaneously toward a
large and silent lodge in the center of the village, as if
it contained the subject of their common thoughts.
During the existence of this scene, a man suddenly appeared
at the furthest extremity of a platform of rock which formed
the level of the village. He was without arms, and his
paint tended rather to soften than increase the natural
sternness of his austere countenance. When in full view of
the Delawares he stopped, and made a gesture of amity, by
throwing his arm upward toward heaven, and then letting it
fall impressively on his breast. The inhabitants of the
village answered his salute by a low murmur of welcome, and
encouraged him to advance by similar indications of
friendship. Fortified by these assurances, the dark figure
left the brow of the natural rocky terrace, where it had
stood a moment, drawn in a strong outline against the
blushing morning sky, and moved with dignity into the very
center of the huts. As he approached, nothing was audible
but the rattling of the light silver ornaments that loaded
his arms and neck, and the tinkling of the little bells that
fringed his deerskin moccasins. He made, as he advanced,
many courteous signs of greeting to the men he passed,
neglecting to notice the women, however, like one who deemed
their favor, in the present enterprise, of no importance.
When he had reached the group in which it was evident, by
the haughtiness of their common mien, that the principal
chiefs were collected, the stranger paused, and then the
Delawares saw that the active and erect form that stood
before them was that of the well-known Huron chief, Le
Renard Subtil.
His reception was grave, silent, and wary. The warriors in
front stepped aside, opening the way to their most approved
orator by the action; one who spoke all those languages that
were cultivated among the northern aborigines.
"The wise Huron is welcome," said the Delaware, in the
language of the Maquas; "he is come to eat his 'succotash'*,
with his brothers of the lakes."
* A dish composed of cracked corn and beans. It is
much used also by the whites. By corn is meant maise.
"He is come," repeated Magua, bending his head with the
dignity of an eastern prince.
The chief extended his arm and taking the other by the
wrist, they once more exchanged friendly salutations. Then
the Delaware invited his guest to enter his own lodge, and
share his morning meal. The invitation was accepted; and
the two warriors, attended by three or four of the old men,
walked calmly away, leaving the rest of the tribe devoured
by a desire to understand the reasons of so unusual a visit,
and yet not betraying the least impatience by sign or word.
During the short and frugal repast that followed, the
conversation was extremely circumspect, and related entirely
to the events of the hunt, in which Magua had so lately been
engaged. It would have been impossible for the most
finished breeding to wear more of the appearance of
considering the visit as a thing of course, than did his
hosts, notwithstanding every individual present was
perfectly aware that it must be connected with some secret
object and that probably of importance to themselves. When
the appetites of the whole were appeased, the squaws removed
the trenchers and gourds, and the two parties began to
prepare themselves for a subtle trial of their wits.
"Is the face of my great Canada father turned again toward
his Huron children?" demanded the orator of the Delawares.
"When was it ever otherwise?" returned Magua. "He calls my
people 'most beloved'."
The Delaware gravely bowed his acquiescence to what he knew
to be false, and continued:
"The tomahawks of your young men have been very red."
"It is so; but they are now bright and dull; for the
Yengeese are dead, and the Delawares are our neighbors."
The other acknowledged the pacific compliment by a gesture
of the hand, and remained silent. Then Magua, as if
recalled to such a recollection, by the allusion to the
massacre, demanded:
"Does my prisoner give trouble to my brothers?"
"She is welcome."
"The path between the Hurons and the Delawares is short and
it is open; let her be sent to my squaws, if she gives
trouble to my brother."
"She is welcome," returned the chief of the latter nation,
still more emphatically.
The baffled Magua continued silent several minutes,
apparently indifferent, however, to the repulse he had
received in this his opening effort to regain possession of
Cora.
"Do my young men leave the Delawares room on the mountains
for their hunts?" he at length continued.
"The Lenape are rulers of their own hills," returned the
other a little haughtily.
"It is well. Justice is the master of a red-skin. Why
should they brighten their tomahawks and sharpen their
knives against each other? Are not the pale faces thicker
than the swallows in the season of flowers?"
"Good!" exclaimed two or three of his auditors at the same
time.
Magua waited a little, to permit his words to soften the
feelings of the Delawares, before he added:
"Have there not been strange moccasins in the woods? Have
not my brothers scented the feet of white men?"
"Let my Canada father come," returned the other, evasively;
"his children are ready to see him."
"When the great chief comes, it is to smoke with the Indians
in their wigwams. The Hurons say, too, he is welcome. But
the Yengeese have long arms, and legs that never tire! My
young men dreamed they had seen the trail of the Yengeese
nigh the village of the Delawares!"
"They will not find the Lenape asleep."
"It is well. The warrior whose eye is open can see his
enemy," said Magua, once more shifting his ground, when he
found himself unable to penetrate the caution of his
companion. "I have brought gifts to my brother. His nation
would not go on the warpath, because they did not think it
well, but their friends have remembered where they lived."
When he had thus announced his liberal intention, the crafty
chief arose, and gravely spread his presents before the
dazzled eyes of his hosts. They consisted principally of
trinkets of little value, plundered from the slaughtered
females of William Henry. In the division of the baubles
the cunning Huron discovered no less art than in their
selection. While he bestowed those of greater value on the
two most distinguished warriors, one of whom was his host,
he seasoned his offerings to their inferiors with such well-timed
and apposite compliments, as left them no ground of complaint.
In short, the whole ceremony contained such a happy blending of
the profitable with the flattering, that it was not difficult for
the donor immediately to read the effect of a generosity so aptly
mingled with praise, in the eyes of those he addressed.
This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of Magua was
not without instantaneous results. The Delawares lost their
gravity in a much more cordial expression; and the host, in
particular, after contemplating his own liberal share of the
spoil for some moments with peculiar gratification, repeated
with strong emphasis, the words:
"My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome."
"The Hurons love their friends the Delawares," returned
Magua. "Why should they not? they are colored by the same
sun, and their just men will hunt in the same grounds after
death. The red-skins should be friends, and look with open
eyes on the white men. Has not my brother scented spies in
the woods?"
The Delaware, whose name in English signified "Hard Heart,"
an appellation that the French had translated into "le Coeurdur,"
forgot that obduracy of purpose, which had probably
obtained him so significant a title. His countenance grew
very sensibly less stern and he now deigned to answer more
directly.
"There have been strange moccasins about my camp. They have
been tracked into my lodges."
"Did my brother beat out the dogs?" asked Magua, without
adverting in any manner to the former equivocation of the
chief.
"It would not do. The stranger is always welcome to the
children of the Lenape."
"The stranger, but not the spy."
"Would the Yengeese send their women as spies? Did not the
Huron chief say he took women in the battle?"
"He told no lie. The Yengeese have sent out their scouts.
They have been in my wigwams, but they found there no one to
say welcome. Then they fled to the Delawares -- for, say
they, the Delawares are our friends; their minds are turned
from their Canada father!"
This insinuation was a home thrust, and one that in a more
advanced state of society would have entitled Magua to the
reputation of a skillful diplomatist. The recent defection
of the tribe had, as they well knew themselves, subjected
the Delawares to much reproach among their French allies;
and they were now made to feel that their future actions
were to be regarded with jealousy and distrust. There was
no deep insight into causes and effects necessary to foresee
that such a situation of things was likely to prove highly
prejudicial to their future movements. Their distant
villages, their hunting-grounds and hundreds of their women
and children, together with a material part of their
physical force, were actually within the limits of the
French territory. Accordingly, this alarming annunciation
was received, as Magua intended, with manifest
disapprobation, if not with alarm.
"Let my father look in my face," said Le Coeur-dur; "he will
see no change. It is true, my young men did not go out on
the war-path; they had dreams for not doing so. But they
love and venerate the great white chief."
"Will he think so when he hears that his greatest enemy is
fed in the camp of his children? When he is told a bloody
Yengee smokes at your fire? That the pale face who has
slain so many of his friends goes in and out among the
Delawares? Go! my great Canada father is not a fool!"
"Where is the Yengee that the Delawares fear?" returned the
other; "who has slain my young men? Who is the mortal enemy
of my Great Father?"
"La Longue Carabine!"
The Delaware warriors started at the well-known name,
betraying by their amazement, that they now learned, for the
first time, one so famous among the Indian allies of France
was within their power.
"What does my brother mean?" demanded Le Coeur-dur, in a
tone that, by its wonder, far exceeded the usual apathy of
his race.
"A Huron never lies!" returned Magua, coldly, leaning his
head against the side of the lodge, and drawing his slight
robe across his tawny breast. "Let the Delawares count
their prisoners; they will find one whose skin is neither
red nor pale."
A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief consulted
apart with his companions, and messengers despatched to
collect certain others of the most distinguished men of the
tribe.
As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made
acquainted, in turn, with the important intelligence that
Magua had just communicated. The air of surprise, and the
usual low, deep, guttural exclamation, were common to them
all. The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole
encampment became powerfully agitated. The women suspended
their labors, to catch such syllables as unguardedly fell
from the lips of the consulting warriors. The boys deserted
their sports, and walking fearlessly among their fathers,
looked up in curious admiration, as they heard the brief
exclamations of wonder they so freely expressed the temerity
of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was
abandoned for the time, and all other pursuits seemed
discarded in order that the tribe might freely indulge,
after their own peculiar manner, in an open expression of
feeling.
When the excitement had a little abated, the old men
disposed themselves seriously to consider that which it
became the honor and safety of their tribe to perform, under
circumstances of so much delicacy and embarrassment. During
all these movements, and in the midst of the general
commotion, Magua had not only maintained his seat, but the
very attitude he had originally taken, against the side of
the lodge, where he continued as immovable, and, apparently,
as unconcerned, as if he had no interest in the result. Not
a single indication of the future intentions of his hosts,
however, escaped his vigilant eyes. With his consummate
knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to
deal, he anticipated every measure on which they decided;
and it might almost be said, that, in many instances, he
knew their intentions, even before they became known to
themselves.
The council of the Delawares was short. When it was ended,
a general bustle announced that it was to be immediately
succeeded by a solemn and formal assemblage of the nation.
As such meetings were rare, and only called on occasions of
the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still sat apart,
a wily and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that
all his projects must be brought to their final issue. He,
therefore, left the lodge and walked silently forth to the
place, in front of the encampment, whither the warriors were
already beginning to collect.
It might have been half an hour before each individual,
including even the women and children, was in his place.
The delay had been created by the grave preparations that
were deemed necessary to so solemn and unusual a conference.
But when the sun was seen climbing above the tops of that
mountain, against whose bosom the Delawares had constructed
their encampment, most were seated; and as his bright rays
darted from behind the outline of trees that fringed the
eminence, they fell upon as grave, as attentive, and as
deeply interested a multitude, as was probably ever before
lighted by his morning beams. Its number somewhat exceeded
a thousand souls.
In a collection of so serious savages, there is never to be
found any impatient aspirant after premature distinction,
standing ready to move his auditors to some hasty, and,
perhaps, injudicious discussion, in order that his own
reputation may be the gainer. An act of so much
precipitancy and presumption would seal the downfall of
precocious intellect forever. It rested solely with the
oldest and most experienced of the men to lay the subject of
the conference before the people. Until such a one chose to
make some movement, no deeds in arms, no natural gifts, nor
any renown as an orator, would have justified the slightest
interruption. On the present occasion, the aged warrior
whose privilege it was to speak, was silent, seemingly
oppressed with the magnitude of his subject. The delay had
already continued long beyond the usual deliberative pause
that always preceded a conference; but no sign of impatience
or surprise escaped even the youngest boy. Occasionally an
eye was raised from the earth, where the looks of most were
riveted, and strayed toward a particular lodge, that was,
however, in no manner distinguished from those around it,
except in the peculiar care that had been taken to protect
it against the assaults of the weather.
At length one of those low murmurs, that are so apt to
disturb a multitude, was heard, and the whole nation arose
to their feet by a common impulse. At that instant the door
of the lodge in question opened, and three men, issuing from
it, slowly approached the place of consultation. They were
all aged, even beyond that period to which the oldest
present had reached; but one in the center, who leaned on
his companions for support, had numbered an amount of years
to which the human race is seldom permitted to attain. His
frame, which had once been tall and erect, like the cedar,
was now bending under the pressure of more than a century.
The elastic, light step of an Indian was gone, and in its
place he was compelled to toil his tardy way over the
ground, inch by inch. His dark, wrinkled countenance was in
singular and wild contrast with the long white locks which
floated on his shoulders, in such thickness, as to announce
that generations had probably passed away since they had
last been shorn.
The dress of this patriarch -- for such, considering his
vast age, in conjunction with his affinity and influence
with his people, he might very properly be termed -- was
rich and imposing, though strictly after the simple fashions
of the tribe. His robe was of the finest skins, which had
been deprived of their fur, in order to admit of a
hieroglyphical representation of various deeds in arms, done
in former ages. His bosom was loaded with medals, some in
massive silver, and one or two even in gold, the gifts of
various Christian potentates during the long period of his
life. He also wore armlets, and cinctures above the ankles,
of the latter precious metal. His head, on the whole of
which the hair had been permitted to grow, the pursuits of
war having so long been abandoned, was encircled by a sort
of plated diadem, which, in its turn, bore lesser and more
glittering ornaments, that sparkled amid the glossy hues of
three drooping ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black, in
touching contrast to the color of his snow-white locks. His
tomahawk was nearly hid in silver, and the handle of his
knife shone like a horn of solid gold.
So soon as the first hum of emotion and pleasure, which the
sudden appearance of this venerated individual created, had
a little subsided, the name of "Tamenund" was whispered from
mouth to mouth. Magua had often heard the fame of this wise
and just Delaware; a reputation that even proceeded so far
as to bestow on him the rare gift of holding secret
communion with the Great Spirit, and which has since
transmitted his name, with some slight alteration, to the
white usurpers of his ancient territory, as the imaginary
tutelar saint* of a vast empire. The Huron chief,
therefore, stepped eagerly out a little from the throng, to
a spot whence he might catch a nearer glimpse of the
features of the man, whose decision was likely to produce so
deep an influence on his own fortunes.
* The Americans sometimes called their tutelar saint
Tamenay, a corruption of the name of the renowned chief here
introduced. There are many traditions which speak of the
character and power of Tamenund.
The eyes of the old man were closed, as though the organs
were wearied with having so long witnessed the selfish
workings of the human passions. The color of his skin
differed from that of most around him, being richer and
darker, the latter having been produced by certain delicate
and mazy lines of complicated and yet beautiful figures,
which had been traced over most of his person by the
operation of tattooing. Notwithstanding the position of the
Huron, he passed the observant and silent Magua without
notice, and leaning on his two venerable supporters
proceeded to the high place of the multitude, where he
seated himself in the center of his nation, with the dignity
of a monarch and the air of a father.
Nothing could surpass the reverence and affection with which
this unexpected visit from one who belongs rather to another
world than to this, was received by his people. After a
suitable and decent pause, the principal chiefs arose, and,
approaching the patriarch, they placed his hands reverently
on their heads, seeming to entreat a blessing. The younger
men were content with touching his robe, or even drawing
nigh his person, in order to breathe in the atmosphere of
one so aged, so just, and so valiant. None but the most
distinguished among the youthful warriors even presumed so
far as to perform the latter ceremony, the great mass of the
multitude deeming it a sufficient happiness to look upon a
form so deeply venerated, and so well beloved. When these
acts of affection and respect were performed, the chiefs
drew back again to their several places, and silence reigned
in the whole encampment.
After a short delay, a few of the young men, to whom
instructions had been whispered by one of the aged
attendants of Tamenund, arose, left the crowd, and entered
the lodge which has already been noted as the object of so
much attention throughout that morning. In a few minutes
they reappeared, escorting the individuals who had caused
all these solemn preparations toward the seat of judgment.
The crowd opened in a lane; and when the party had re-entered,
it closed in again, forming a large and dense belt of human
bodies, arranged in an open circle.
CHAPTER 29
"The assembly seated, rising o'er the rest, Achilles thus
the king of men addressed."--Pope's Illiad
Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms
in those of Alice, in the tenderness of sisterly love.
Notwithstanding the fearful and menacing array of savages on
every side of her, no apprehension on her own account could
prevent the nobler-minded maiden from keeping her eyes
fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling
Alice. Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest
in both, that, at such a moment of intense uncertainty,
scarcely knew a preponderance in favor of her whom he most
loved. Hawkeye had placed himself a little in the rear,
with a deference to the superior rank of his companions,
that no similarity in the state of their present fortunes
could induce him to forget. Uncas was not there.
When perfect silence was again restored, and after the usual
long, impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs who sat
at the side of the patriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in
very intelligible English:
"Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine?"
Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. The former, however,
glanced his eyes around the dark and silent assembly, and
recoiled a pace, when they fell on the malignant visage of
Magua. He saw, at once, that this wily savage had some
secret agency in their present arraignment before the
nation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in
the way of the execution of his sinister plans. He had
witnessed one instance of the summary punishments of the
Indians, and now dreaded that his companion was to be
selected for a second. In this dilemma, with little or no
time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak his
invaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself.
Before he had time, however, to speak, the question was
repeated in a louder voice, and with a clearer utterance.
"Give us arms," the young man haughtily replied, "and place
us in yonder woods. Our deeds shall speak for us!"
"This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!"
returned the chief, regarding Heyward with that sort of
curious interest which seems inseparable from man, when
first beholding one of his fellows to whom merit or
accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. "What has
brought the white man into the camp of the Delawares?"
"My necessities. I come for food, shelter, and friends."
"It cannot be. The woods are full of game. The head of a
warrior needs no other shelter than a sky without clouds;
and the Delawares are the enemies, and not the friends of
the Yengeese. Go, the mouth has spoken, while the heart
said nothing."
Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed,
remained silent; but the scout, who had listened attentively
to all that passed, now advanced steadily to the front.
"That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Carabine,
was not owing either to shame or fear," he said, "for
neither one nor the other is the gift of an honest man. But
I do not admit the right of the Mingoes to bestow a name on
one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, in this
particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'killdeer'
being a grooved barrel and no carabyne. I am the man,
however, that got the name of Nathaniel from my kin; the
compliment of Hawkeye from the Delawares, who live on their
own river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed to style the
'Long Rifle', without any warranty from him who is most
concerned in the matter."
The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been gravely
scanning the person of Duncan, were now turned, on the
instant, toward the upright iron frame of this new pretender
to the distinguished appellation. It was in no degree
remarkable that there should be found two who were willing
to claim so great an honor, for impostors, though rare, were
not unknown among the natives; but it was altogether
material to the just and severe intentions of the Delawares,
that there should be no mistake in the matter. Some of
their old men consulted together in private, and then, as it
would seem, they determined to interrogate their visitor on
the subject.
"My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said
the chief to Magua; "which is he?"
The Huron pointed to the scout.
"Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a wolf?"
exclaimed Duncan, still more confirmed in the evil
intentions of his ancient enemy: " a dog never lies, but
when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"
The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but suddenly recollecting
the necessity of maintaining his presence of mind, he turned
away in silent disdain, well assured that the sagacity of
the Indians would not fail to extract the real merits of the
point in controversy. He was not deceived; for, after
another short consultation, the wary Delaware turned to him
again, and expressed the determination of the chiefs, though
in the most considerate language.
"My brother has been called a liar," he said, "and his
friends are angry. They will show that he has spoken the
truth. Give my prisoners guns, and let them prove which is
the man."
Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he well knew
proceeded from distrust of himself, as a compliment, and
made a gesture of acquiescence, well content that his
veracity should be supported by so skillful a marksman as
the scout. The weapons were instantly placed in the hands
of the friendly opponents, and they were bid to fire, over
the heads of the seated multitude, at an earthen vessel,
which lay, by accident, on a stump, some fifty yards from
the place where they stood.
Heyward smiled to himself at the idea of a competition with
the scout, though he determined to persevere in the
deception, until apprised of the real designs of Magua.
Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and renewing his aim
three several times, he fired. The bullet cut the wood
within a few inches of the vessel; and a general exclamation
of satisfaction announced that the shot was considered a
proof of great skill in the use of a weapon. Even Hawkeye
nodded his head, as if he would say, it was better than he
expected. But, instead of manifesting an intention to
contend with the successful marksman, he stood leaning on
his rifle for more than a minute, like a man who was
completely buried in thought. From this reverie, he was,
however, awakened by one of the young Indians who had
furnished the arms, and who now touched his shoulder, saying
in exceedingly broken English:
"Can the pale face beat it?"
"Yes, Huron!" exclaimed the scout, raising the short rifle
in his right hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much
apparent ease as if it were a reed; "yes, Huron, I could
strike you now, and no power on earth could prevent the
deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove than
I am this moment of you, did I choose to send a bullet to
your heart! Why should I not? Why! -- because the gifts of
my color forbid it, and I might draw down evil on tender and
innocent heads. If you know such a being as God, thank Him,
therefore, in your inward soul; for you have reason!"
The flushed countenance, angry eye and swelling figure of
the scout, produced a sensation of secret awe in all that
heard him. The Delawares held their breath in expectation;
but Magua himself, even while he distrusted the forbearance
of his enemy, remained immovable and calm, where he stood
wedged in by the crowd, as one who grew to the spot.
"Beat it," repeated the young Delaware at the elbow of the
scout.
"Beat what, fool! -- what?" exclaimed Hawkeye, still
flourishing the weapon angrily above his head, though his
eye no longer sought the person of Magua.
"If the white man is the warrior he pretends," said the aged
chief, "let him strike nigher to the mark."
The scout laughed aloud -- a noise that produced the
startling effect of an unnatural sound on Heyward; then
dropping the piece, heavily, into his extended left hand, it
was discharged, apparently by the shock, driving the
fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on
every side. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound
of the rifle was heard, as he suffered it to fall,
contemptuously, to the earth.
The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing
admiration. Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through
the multitude, and finally swelled into sounds that denoted
a lively opposition in the sentiments of the spectators.
While some openly testified their satisfaction at so
unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion of the tribe
were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the
result of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an
opinion that was so favorable to his own pretensions.
"It was chance!" he exclaimed; "none can shoot without an
aim!"
"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now
stubbornly bent on maintaining his identity at every hazard,
and on whom the secret hints of Heyward to acquiesce in the
deception were entirely lost. "Does yonder lying Huron,
too, think it chance? Give him another gun, and place us
face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence,
and our own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not
make the offer, to you, major; for our blood is of a color,
and we serve the same master."
"That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned
Heyward, coolly; "you have yourself heard him asset you to
be La Longue Carabine."
It were impossible to say what violent assertion the
stubborn Hawkeye would have next made, in his headlong wish
to vindicate his identity, had not the aged Delaware once
more interposed.
"The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he
will," he said; "give them the guns."
This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had
Magua, though he watched the movements of the marksman with
jealous eyes, any further cause for apprehension.
"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of
Delawares, which is the better man," cried the scout,
tapping the butt of his piece with that finger which had
pulled so many fatal triggers.
"You see that gourd hanging against yonder tree, major; if
you are a marksman fit for the borders, let me see you break
its shell!"
Duncan noted the object, and prepared himself to renew the
trial. The gourd was one of the usual little vessels used
by the Indians, and it was suspended from a dead branch of a
small pine, by a thong of deerskin, at the full distance of
a hundred yards. So strangely compounded is the feeling of
self-love, that the young soldier, while he knew the utter
worthlessness of the suffrages of his savage umpires, forgot
the sudden motives of the contest in a wish to excel. It
had been seen, already, that his skill was far from being
contemptible, and he now resolved to put forth its nicest
qualities. Had his life depended on the issue, the aim of
Duncan could not have been more deliberate or guarded. He
fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang forward
at the report, announced with a shout, that the ball was in
the tree, a very little on one side of the proper object.
The warriors uttered a common ejaculation of pleasure, and
then turned their eyes, inquiringly, on the movements of his
rival.
"It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing
once more in his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my
gun often turned so much from the true line, many a marten,
whose skin is now in a lady's muff, would still be in the
woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who has departed to his
final account, would be acting his deviltries at this very
day, atween the provinces. I hope the squaw who owns the
gourd has more of them in her wigwam, for this will never
hold water again!"
The scout had shook his priming, and cocked his piece, while
speaking; and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, and slowly
raised the muzzle from the earth: the motion was steady,
uniform, and in one direction. When on a perfect level, it
remained for a single moment, without tremor or variation,
as though both man and rifle were carved in stone. During
that stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a
bright, glancing sheet of flame. Again the young Indians
bounded forward; but their hurried search and disappointed
looks announced that no traces of the bullet were to be
seen.
"Go!" said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of strong
disgust; "thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog. I will talk
to the 'Long Rifle' of the Yengeese."
"Ah! had I that piece which furnished the name you use, I
would obligate myself to cut the thong, and drop the gourd
without breaking it!" returned Hawkeye, perfectly
undisturbed by the other's manner. "Fools, if you would
find the bullet of a sharpshooter in these woods, you must
look in the object, and not around it!"
The Indian youths instantly comprehended his meaning -- for
this time he spoke in the Delaware tongue -- and tearing the
gourd from the tree, they held it on high with an exulting
shout, displaying a hole in its bottom, which had been cut
by the bullet, after passing through the usual orifice in
the center of its upper side. At this unexpected
exhibition, a loud and vehement expression of pleasure burst
from the mouth of every warrior present. It decided the
question, and effectually established Hawkeye in the
possession of his dangerous reputation. Those curious and
admiring eyes which had been turned again on Heyward, were
finally directed to the weather-beaten form of the scout,
who immediately became the principal object of attention to
the simple and unsophisticated beings by whom he was
surrounded. When the sudden and noisy commotion had a
little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination.
"Why did you wish to stop my ears?" he said, addressing
Duncan; "are the Delawares fools that they could not know
the young panther from the cat?"
"They will yet find the Huron a singing-bird," said Duncan,
endeavoring to adopt the figurative language of the natives.
"It is good. We will know who can shut the ears of men.
Brother," added the chief turning his eyes on Magua, "the
Delawares listen."
Thus singled, and directly called on to declare his object,
the Huron arose; and advancing with great deliberation and
dignity into the very center of the circle, where he stood
confronted by the prisoners, he placed himself in an
attitude to speak. Before opening his mouth, however, he
bent his eyes slowly along the whole living boundary of
earnest faces, as if to temper his expressions to the
capacities of his audience. On Hawkeye he cast a glance of
respectful enmity; on Duncan, a look of inextinguishable
hatred; the shrinking figure of Alice he scarcely deigned to
notice; but when his glance met the firm, commanding, and
yet lovely form of Cora, his eye lingered a moment, with an
expression that it might have been difficult to define.
Then, filled with his own dark intentions, he spoke in the
language of the Canadas, a tongue that he well knew was
comprehended by most of his auditors.
"The Spirit that made men colored them differently,"
commenced the subtle Huron. "Some are blacker than the
sluggish bear. These He said should be slaves; and He
ordered them to work forever, like the beaver. You may hear
them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than the
lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake,
where the big canoes come and go with them in droves. Some
He made with faces paler than the ermine of the forests; and
these He ordered to be traders; dogs to their women, and
wolves to their slaves. He gave this people the nature of
the pigeon; wings that never tire; young, more plentiful
than the leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the
earth. He gave them tongues like the false call of the
wildcat; hearts like rabbits; the cunning of the hog (but
none of the fox), and arms longer than the legs of the
moose. With his tongue he stops the ears of the Indians;
his heart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles;
his cunning tells him how to get together the goods of the
earth; and his arms inclose the land from the shores of the
salt-water to the islands of the great lake. His gluttony
makes him sick. God gave him enough, and yet he wants all.
Such are the pale faces.
"Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder
than yonder sun," continued Magua, pointing impressively
upward to the lurid luminary, which was struggling through
the misty atmosphere of the horizon; "and these did He
fashion to His own mind. He gave them this island as He had
made it, covered with trees, and filled with game. The wind
made their clearings; the sun and rain ripened their fruits;
and the snows came to tell them to be thankful. What need
had they of roads to journey by! They saw through the
hills! When the beavers worked, they lay in the shade, and
looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; in winter,
skins kept them warm. If they fought among themselves, it
was to prove that they were men. They were brave; they were
just; they were happy."
Here the speaker paused, and again looked around him to
discover if his legend had touched the sympathies of his
listeners. He met everywhere, with eyes riveted on his own,
heads erect and nostrils expanded, as if each individual
present felt himself able and willing, singly, to redress
the wrongs of his race.
"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red
children," he continued, in a low, still melancholy voice,
"it was that all animals might understand them. Some He
placed among the snows, with their cousin, the bear. Some
he placed near the setting sun, on the road to the happy
hunting grounds. Some on the lands around the great fresh
waters; but to His greatest, and most beloved, He gave the
sands of the salt lake. Do my brothers know the name of
this favored people?"
"It was the Lenape!" exclaimed twenty eager voices in a
breath.
"It was the Lenni Lenape," returned Magua, affecting to bend
his head in reverence to their former greatness. "It was
the tribes of the Lenape! The sun rose from water that was
salt, and set in water that was sweet, and never hid himself
from their eyes. But why should I, a Huron of the woods,
tell a wise people their own traditions? Why remind them of
their injuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their
glory; their happiness; their losses; their defeats; their
misery? Is there not one among them who has seen it all,
and who knows it to be true? I have done. My tongue is
still for my heart is of lead. I listen."
As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and
all eyes turned, by a common movement, toward the venerable
Tamenund. From the moment that he took his seat, until the
present instant, the lips of the patriarch had not severed,
and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him. He sat bent in
feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence he
was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the
skill of the scout had been so clearly established. At the
nicely graduated sound of Magua's voice, however, he
betrayed some evidence of consciousness, and once or twice
he even raised his head, as if to listen. But when the
crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the
old man raised themselves, and he looked out upon the
multitude with that sort of dull, unmeaning expression which
might be supposed to belong to the countenance of a specter.
Then he made an effort to rise, and being upheld by his
supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by
its dignity, while he tottered with weakness.
"Who calls upon the children of the Lenape?" he said, in a
deep, guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by
the breathless silence of the multitude; "who speaks of
things gone? Does not the egg become a worm -- the worm a
fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares of good that is
past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."
"It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude
platform on which the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."
"A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown
settled, imparting a portion of that severity which had
rendered his eye so terrible in middle age. "Are the
Mingoes rulers of the earth? What brings a Huron in here?"
"Justice. His prisoners are with his brothers, and he comes
for his own."
Tamenund turned his head toward one of his supporters, and
listened to the short explanation the man gave.
Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a moment with
deep attention; after which he said, in a low and reluctant
voice:
"Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give
the stranger food. Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."
On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patriarch
seated himself, and closed his eyes again, as if better
pleased with the images of his own ripened experience than
with the visible objects of the world. Against such a
decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy to murmur,
much less oppose himself. The words were barely uttered
when four or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind
Heyward and the scout, passed thongs so dexterously and
rapidly around their arms, as to hold them both in instant
bondage. The former was too much engrossed with his
precious and nearly insensible burden, to be aware of their
intentions before they were executed; and the latter, who
considered even the hostile tribes of the Delawares a
superior race of beings, submitted without resistance.
Perhaps, however, the manner of the scout would not have
been so passive, had he fully comprehended the language in
which the preceding dialogue had been conducted.
Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly
before he proceeded to the execution of his purpose.
Perceiving that the men were unable to offer any resistance,
he turned his looks on her he valued most. Cora met his
gaze with an eye so calm and firm, that his resolution
wavered. Then, recollecting his former artifice, he raised
Alice from the arms of the warrior against whom she leaned,
and beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the
encircling crowd to open. But Cora, instead of obeying the
impulse he had expected, rushed to the feet of the
patriarch, and, raising her voice, exclaimed aloud:
"Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and power we
lean for mercy! Be deaf to yonder artful and remorseless
monster, who poisons thy ears with falsehoods to feed his
thirst for blood. Thou that hast lived long, and that hast
seen the evil of the world, should know how to temper its
calamities to the miserable."
The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once more
looked upward at the multitude. As the piercing tones of
the suppliant swelled on his ears, they moved slowly in the
direction of her person, and finally settled there in a
steady gaze. Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with
hands clenched in each other and pressed upon her bosom, she
remained like a beauteous and breathing model of her sex,
looking up in his faded but majestic countenance, with a
species of holy reverence. Gradually the expression of
Tamenund's features changed, and losing their vacancy in
admiration, they lighted with a portion of that intelligence
which a century before had been wont to communicate his
youthful fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares.
Rising without assistance, and seemingly without an effort,
he demanded, in a voice that startled its auditors by its
firmness:
"What art thou?"
"A woman. One of a hated race, if thou wilt -- a Yengee.
But one who has never harmed thee, and who cannot harm thy
people, if she would; who asks for succor."
"Tell me, my children," continued the patriarch, hoarsely,
motioning to those around him, though his eyes still dwelt
upon the kneeling form of Cora, "where have the Delawares
camped?"
"In the mountains of the Iroquois, beyond the clear springs
of the Horican."
"Many parching summers are come and gone," continued the
sage, "since I drank of the water of my own rivers. The
children of Minquon* are the justest white men, but they
were thirsty and they took it to themselves. Do they follow
us so far?"
* William Penn was termed Minquon by the Delawares,
and, as he never used violence or injustice in his dealings
with them, his reputation for probity passed into a proverb.
The American is justly proud of the origin of his nation,
which is perhaps unequaled in the history of the world; but
the Pennsylvanian and Jerseyman have more reason to value
themselves in their ancestors than the natives of any other
state, since no wrong was done the original owners of the
soil.
"We follow none, we covet nothing," answered Cora.
"Captives against our wills, have we been brought amongst
you; and we ask but permission to depart to our own in
peace. Art thou not Tamenund -- the father, the judge, I
had almost said, the prophet -- of this people?"
"I am Tamenund of many days."
"'Tis now some seven years that one of thy people was at the
mercy of a white chief on the borders of this province. He
claimed to be of the blood of the good and just Tamenund.
'Go', said the white man, 'for thy parent's sake thou art
free.' Dost thou remember the name of that English warrior?"
"I remember, that when a laughing boy," returned the
patriarch, with the peculiar recollection of vast age, "I
stood upon the sands of the sea shore, and saw a big canoe,
with wings whiter than the swan's, and wider than many
eagles, come from the rising sun."
"Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant, but of
favor shown to thy kindred by one of mine, within the memory
of thy youngest warrior."
"Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchmanne fought for the
hunting-grounds of the Delawares? Then Tamenund was a
chief, and first laid aside the bow for the lightning of the
pale faces --"
"Not yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of
a thing of yesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not."
"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching
pathos, "that the children of the Lenape were masters of the
world. The fishes of the salt lake, the birds, the beasts,
and the Mengee of the woods, owned them for Sagamores."
Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter
moment struggled with her chagrin. Then, elevating her rich
features and beaming eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely
less penetrating than the unearthly voice of the patriarch
himself:
"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"
The old man looked down upon her from his elevated stand,
with a benignant smile on his wasted countenance, and then
casting his eyes slowly over the whole assemblage, he
answered:
"Of a nation."
"For myself I ask nothing. Like thee and thine, venerable
chief," she continued, pressing her hands convulsively on
her heart, and suffering her head to droop until her burning
cheeks were nearly concealed in the maze of dark, glossy
tresses that fell in disorder upon her shoulders, "the curse
of my ancestors has fallen heavily on their child. But
yonder is one who has never known the weight of Heaven's
displeasure until now. She is the daughter of an old and
failing man, whose days are near their close. She has many,
very many, to love her, and delight in her; and she is too
good, much too precious, to become the victim of that
villain."
"I know that the pale faces are a proud and hungry race. I
know that they claim not only to have the earth, but that
the meanest of their color is better than the Sachems of the
red man. The dogs and crows of their tribes," continued the
earnest old chieftain, without heeding the wounded spirit of
his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to the earth in
shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they
would take a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of
the color of snow. But let them not boast before the face
of the Manitou too loud. They entered the land at the
rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun. I have often
seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the
season of blossoms has always come again."
"It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving
from a trance, raising her face, and shaking back her
shining veil, with a kindling eye, that contradicted the
death-like paleness of her countenance; "but why -- it is
not permitted us to inquire. There is yet one of thine own
people who has not been brought before thee; before thou
lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."
Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his
companions said:
"It is a snake -- a red-skin in the pay of the Yengeese. We
keep him for the torture."
"Let him come," returned the sage.
Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so
deep prevailed while the young man prepared to obey his
simple mandate, that the leaves, which fluttered in the
draught of the light morning air, were distinctly heard
rustling in the surrounding forest.
CHAPTER 30
"If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no force in
the decrees of Venice: I stand for judgment: answer, shall I
have it?"--Merchant of Venice
The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many
anxious minutes. Then the waving multitude opened and shut
again, and Uncas stood in the living circle. All those
eyes, which had been curiously studying the lineaments of
the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turned on
the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the
erect, agile, and faultless person of the captive. But
neither the presence in which he found himself, nor the
exclusive attention that he attracted, in any manner
disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican. He cast
a deliberate and observing look on every side of him,
meeting the settled expression of hostility that lowered in
the visages of the chiefs with the same calmness as the
curious gaze of the attentive children. But when, last in
this haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund came under his
glance, his eye became fixed, as though all other objects
were already forgotten. Then, advancing with a slow and
noiseless step up the area, he placed himself immediately
before the footstool of the sage. Here he stood unnoted,
though keenly observant himself, until one of the chiefs
apprised the latter of his presence.
"With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?"
demanded the patriarch, without unclosing his eyes.
"Like his fathers," Uncas replied; "with the tongue of a
Delaware."
At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, fierce
yell ran through the multitude, that might not inaptly be
compared to the growl of the lion, as his choler is first
awakened -- a fearful omen of the weight of his future
anger. The effect was equally strong on the sage, though
differently exhibited. He passed a hand before his eyes, as
if to exclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle,
while he repeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he
had just heard.
"A Delaware! I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape
driven from their council-fires, and scattered, like broken
herds of deer, among the hills of the Iroquois! I have seen
the hatchets of a strong people sweep woods from the
valleys, that the winds of heaven have spared! The beasts
that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above the
trees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never
before have I found a Delaware so base as to creep, like a
poisonous serpent, into the camps of his nation."
"The singing-birds have opened their bills," returned Uncas,
in the softest notes of his own musical voice; "and Tamenund
has heard their song."
The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch
the fleeting sounds of some passing melody.
"Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed. "What voice is at his
ear! Have the winters gone backward! Will summer come
again to the children of the Lenape!"
A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this incoherent
burst from the lips of the Delaware prophet. His people
readily constructed his unintelligible language into one of
those mysterious conferences he was believed to hold so
frequently with a superior intelligence and they awaited the
issue of the revelation in awe. After a patient pause,
however, one of the aged men, perceiving that the sage had
lost the recollection of the subject before them, ventured
to remind him again of the presence of the prisoner.
"The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words
of Tamenund," he said. "'Tis a hound that howls, when the
Yengeese show him a trail."
"And ye," returned Uncas, looking sternly around him, "are
dogs that whine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of
his deer!"
Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many warriors
sprang to their feet, at this biting, and perhaps merited
retort; but a motion from one of the chiefs suppressed the
outbreaking of their tempers, and restored the appearance of
quiet. The task might probably have been more difficult,
had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he was
again about to speak.
"Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy
name. My people have not seen a bright sun in many winters;
and the warrior who deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is
doubly a traitor. The law of the Manitou is just. It is
so; while the rivers run and the mountains stand, while the
blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so. He is
thine, my children; deal justly by him."
Not a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder and
longer than common, until the closing syllable of this final
decree had passed the lips of Tamenund. Then a cry of
vengeance burst at once, as it might be, from the united
lips of the nation; a frightful augury of their ruthless
intentions. In the midst of these prolonged and savage
yells, a chief proclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive
was condemned to endure the dreadful trial of torture by
fire. The circle broke its order, and screams of delight
mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation. Heyward
struggled madly with his captors; the anxious eye of Hawkeye
began to look around him, with an expression of peculiar
earnestness; and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the
patriarch, once more a suppliant for mercy.
Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas had
alone preserved his serenity. He looked on the preparations
with a steady eye, and when the tormentors came to seize
him, he met them with a firm and upright attitude. One
among them, if possible more fierce and savage than his
fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the young warrior, and
at a single effort tore it from his body. Then, with a yell
of frantic pleasure, he leaped toward his unresisting victim
and prepared to lead him to the stake. But, at that moment,
when he appeared most a stranger to the feelings of
humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenly
as if a supernatural agency had interposed in the behalf of
Uncas. The eyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from
their sockets; his mouth opened and his whole form became
frozen in an attitude of amazement. Raising his hand with a
slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a finger to the
bosom of the captive. His companions crowded about him in
wonder and every eye was like his own, fastened intently on
the figure of a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the
breast of the prisoner, in a bright blue tint.
For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling
calmly on the scene. Then motioning the crowd away with a
high and haughty sweep of his arm, he advanced in front of
the nation with the air of a king, and spoke in a voice
louder than the murmur of admiration that ran through the
multitude.
"Men of the Lenni Lenape!" he said, "my race upholds the
earth! Your feeble tribe stands on my shell! What fire
that a Delaware can light would burn the child of my
fathers," he added, pointing proudly to the simple blazonry
on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stock would
smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of
nations!"
"Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling
tones he heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the
language of the prisoner.
"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive
modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his head in
reverence to the other's character and years; "a son of the
great Unamis."*
* Turtle.
"The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day
is come, at last, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that
one is here to fill my place at the council-fire. Uncas,
the child of Uncas, is found! Let the eyes of a dying eagle
gaze on the rising sun."
The youth stepped lightly, but proudly on the platform,
where he became visible to the whole agitated and wondering
multitude. Tamenund held him long at the length of his arm
and read every turn in the fine lineaments of his
countenance, with the untiring gaze of one who recalled days
of happiness.
"Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered prophet
exclaimed. "Have I dreamed of so many snows -- that my
people were scattered like floating sands -- of Yengeese,
more plenty than the leaves on the trees! The arrow of
Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm is withered
like the branch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in
the race; yet is Uncas before him as they went to battle
against the pale faces! Uncas, the panther of his tribe,
the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisest Sagamore of the
Mohicans! Tell me, ye Delawares, has Tamenund been a sleeper
for a hundred winters?"
The calm and deep silence which succeeded these words
sufficiently announced the awful reverence with which his
people received the communication of the patriarch. None
dared to answer, though all listened in breathless
expectation of what might follow. Uncas, however, looking
in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored
child, presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to
reply.
"Four warriors of his race have lived and died," he said,
"since the friend of Tamenund led his people in battle. The
blood of the turtle has been in many chiefs, but all have
gone back into the earth from whence they came, except
Chingachgook and his son."
"It is true -- it is true," returned the sage, a flash of
recollection destroying all his pleasing fancies, and
restoring him at once to a consciousness of the true history
of his nation. "Our wise men have often said that two
warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills of the
Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the
Delawares been so long empty?"
At these words the young man raised his head, which he had
still kept bowed a little, in reverence; and lifting his
voice so as to be heard by the multitude, as if to explain
at once and forever the policy of his family, he said aloud:
"Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in
its anger. Then we were rulers and Sagamores over the land.
But when a pale face was seen on every brook, we followed
the deer back to the river of our nation. The Delawares
were gone. Few warriors of them all stayed to drink of the
stream they loved. Then said my fathers, 'Here will we
hunt. The waters of the river go into the salt lake. If we
go toward the setting sun, we shall find streams that run
into the great lakes of sweet water; there would a Mohican
die, like fishes of the sea, in the clear springs. When the
Manitou is ready and shall say "Come," we will follow the
river to the sea, and take our own again. Such, Delawares,
is the belief of the children of the Turtle. Our eyes are
on the rising and not toward the setting sun. We know
whence he comes, but we know not whither he goes. It is
enough."
The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all the
respect that superstition could lend, finding a secret charm
even in the figurative language with which the young
Sagamore imparted his ideas. Uncas himself watched the
effect of his brief explanation with intelligent eyes, and
gradually dropped the air of authority he had assumed, as he
perceived that his auditors were content. Then, permitting
his looks to wander over the silent throng that crowded
around the elevated seat of Tamenund, he first perceived
Hawkeye in his bonds. Stepping eagerly from his stand, he
made way for himself to the side of his friend; and cutting
his thongs with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife,
he motioned to the crowd to divide. The Indians silently
obeyed, and once more they stood ranged in their circle, as
before his appearance among them. Uncas took the scout by
the hand, and led him to the feet of the patriarch.
"Father," he said, "look at this pale face; a just man, and
the friend of the Delawares."
"Is he a son of Minquon?"
"Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the
Maquas."
"What name has he gained by his deeds?"
"We call him Hawkeye," Uncas replied, using the Delaware
phrase; "for his sight never fails. The Mingoes know him
better by the death he gives their warriors; with them he is
'The Long Rifle'."
"La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes,
and regarding the scout sternly. "My son has not done well
to call him friend."
"I call him so who proves himself such," returned the young
chief, with great calmness, but with a steady mien. "If
Uncas is welcome among the Delawares, then is Hawkeye with
his friends."
"The pale face has slain my young men; his name is great for
the blows he has struck the Lenape."
"If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the
Delaware, he has only shown that he is a singing-bird," said
the scout, who now believed that it was time to vindicate
himself from such offensive charges, and who spoke as the
man he addressed, modifying his Indian figures, however,
with his own peculiar notions. "That I have slain the Maquas
I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-fires;
but that, knowingly, my hand has never harmed a Delaware, is
opposed to the reason of my gifts, which is friendly to them,
and all that belongs to their nation."
A low exclamation of applause passed among the warriors who
exchanged looks with each other like men that first began to
perceive their error.
"Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund. "Has he stopped my
ears?"
Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which Uncas had
triumphed may be much better imagined than described,
answered to the call by stepping boldly in front of the
patriarch.
"The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron
has lent."
"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding
the dark countenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the
more ingenuous features of Uncas, "has the stranger a
conqueror's right over you?"
"He has none. The panther may get into snares set by the
women; but he is strong, and knows how to leap through
them."
"La Longue Carabine?"
"Laughs at the Mingoes. Go, Huron, ask your squaws the
color of a bear."
"The stranger and white maiden that come into my camp
together?"
"Should journey on an open path."
"And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"
Uncas made no reply.
"And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp?"
repeated Tamenund, gravely.
"She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at
Uncas. "Mohican, you know that she is mine."
"My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the
expression of the face that the youth turned from him in
sorrow.
"It is so," was the low answer.
A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was
very apparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted
the justice of the Mingo's claim. At length the sage, on
whom alone the decision depended, said, in a firm voice:
"Huron, depart."
"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily Magua, "or
with hands filled with the faith of the Delawares? The
wigwam of Le Renard Subtil is empty. Make him strong with
his own."
The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then,
bending his head toward one of his venerable companions, he
asked:
"Are my ears open?"
"It is true."
"Is this Mingo a chief?"
"The first in his nation."
"Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to
wife. Go! thy race will not end."
"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the
horror-struck Cora, "than meet with such a degradation!"
"Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An
unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam."
"She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua,
regarding his victim with a look of bitter irony.
"She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a bright
look. Let Tamenund speak the words."
"Take you the wampum, and our love."
"Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."
"Then depart with thine own. The Great Manitou forbids that
a Delaware should be unjust."
Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm;
the Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if
conscious that remonstrance would be useless, prepared to
submit to her fate without resistance.
"Hold, hold!" cried Duncan, springing forward; "Huron, have
mercy! her ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy
people were ever yet known to be."
"Magua is a red-skin; he wants not the beads of the pale
faces."
"Gold, silver, powder, lead -- all that a warrior needs
shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest
chief."
"Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking
the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has
his revenge!"
"Mighty ruler of Providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping
his hands together in agony, "can this be suffered! To you,
just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy."
"The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage,
closing his eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike
wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion. "Men speak
not twice."
"That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what
has once been spoken is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye,
motioning to Duncan to be silent; "but it is also prudent in
every warrior to consider well before he strikes his
tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, I love you
not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much
favor at my hands. It is fair to conclude that, if this war
does not soon end, many more of your warriors will meet me
in the woods. Put it to your judgment, then, whether you
would prefer taking such a prisoner as that into your
encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would
greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."
"Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?"
demanded Magua, hesitatingly; for he had already made a
motion toward quitting the place with his victim.
"No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye,
drawing back with suitable discretion, when he noted the
eagerness with which Magua listened to his proposal. "It
would be an unequal exchange, to give a warrior, in the
prime of his age and usefulness, for the best woman on the
frontiers. I might consent to go into winter quarters, now
-- at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn -- on
condition you will release the maiden."
Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the
crowd to open.
"Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man
who had not half made up his mind; "I will throw 'killdeer'
into the bargain. Take the word of an experienced hunter,
the piece has not its equal atween the provinces."
Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to
disperse the crowd.
"Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness
exactly in proportion as the other manifested an
indifference to the exchange, "if I should condition to
teach your young men the real virtue of the we'pon, it would
smoothe the little differences in our judgments."
Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered
in an impenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen
to the amicable proposal, to open his path, threatening, by
the glance of his eye, another appeal to the infallible
justice of their "prophet."
"What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued
Hawkeye, turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas. "The
varlet knows his advantage and will keep it! God bless you,
boy; you have found friends among your natural kin, and I
hope they will prove as true as some you have met who had no
Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it
is, therefore, fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl.
After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to master my
scalp, so a day or two will make no great difference in the
everlasting reckoning of time. God bless you," added the rugged
woodsman, bending his head aside, and then instantly changing its
direction again, with a wistful look toward the youth; "I loved
both you and your father, Uncas, though our skins are not
altogether of a color, and our gifts are somewhat different.
Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him in my greatest
trouble; and, as for you, think of me sometimes when on a lucky
trail, and depend on it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two,
there is a path in the other world by which honest men may come
together again. You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it;
take it, and keep it for my sake; and, harkee, lad, as your
natural gifts don't deny you the use of vengeance, use it a
little freely on the Mingoes; it may unburden griefs at my
loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept your offer;
release the woman. I am your prisoner!"
A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation ran
through the crowd at this generous proposition; even the
fiercest among the Delaware warriors manifesting pleasure at
the manliness of the intended sacrifice. Magua paused, and
for an anxious moment, it might be said, he doubted; then,
casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which
ferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose
became fixed forever.
He intimated his contempt of the offer with a backward
motion of his head, and said, in a steady and settled voice:
"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind.
Come," he added, laying his hand too familiarly on the
shoulder of his captive to urge her onward; "a Huron is no
tattler; we will go."
The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and her dark
eye kindled, while the rich blood shot, like the passing
brightness of the sun, into her very temples, at the
indignity.
"I am your prisoner, and, at a fitting time shall be ready
to follow, even to my death. But violence is unnecessary,"
she coldly said; and immediately turning to Hawkeye, added:
"Generous hunter! from my soul I thank you. Your offer is
vain, neither could it be accepted; but still you may serve
me, even more than in your own noble intention. Look at
that drooping humbled child! Abandon her not until you
leave her in the habitations of civilized men. I will not
say," wringing the hard hand of the scout, "that her father
will reward you -- for such as you are above the rewards of
men -- but he will thank you and bless you. And, believe
me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the
sight of Heaven. Would to God I could hear one word from
his lips at this awful moment!" Her voice became choked,
and, for an instant, she was silent; then, advancing a step
nigher to Duncan, who was supporting her unconscious sister,
she continued, in more subdued tones, but in which feeling
and the habits of her sex maintained a fearful struggle: "I
need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess.
You love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults,
though she had them. She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as
mortal may be. There is not a blemish in mind or person at
which the proudest of you all would sicken. She is fair --
oh! how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, but
less brilliant, hand in melancholy affection on the
alabaster forehead of Alice, and parting the golden hair
which clustered about her brows; "and yet her soul is pure
and spotless as her skin! I could say much -- more,
perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare
you and myself --" Her voice became inaudible, and her face
was bent over the form of her sister. After a long and
burning kiss, she arose, and with features of the hue of
death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she
turned away, and added, to the savage, with all her former
elevation of manner: "Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I
will follow."
"Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an
Indian girl; "go, Magua, go. these Delawares have their
laws, which forbid them to detain you; but I -- I have no
such obligation. Go, malignant monster -- why do you
delay?"
It would be difficult to describe the expression with which
Magua listened to this threat to follow. There was at first
a fierce and manifest display of joy, and then it was
instantly subdued in a look of cunning coldness.
"The words are open," he was content with answering, "'The
Open Hand' can come."
"Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, and
detaining him by violence; "you know not the craft of the
imp. He would lead you to an ambushment, and your death --"
"Huron," interrupted Uncas, who submissive to the stern
customs of his people, had been an attentive and grave
listener to all that passed; "Huron, the justice of the
Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at the sun. He is
now in the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is
short and open. When he is seen above the trees, there will
be men on your trail."
"I hear a crow!" exclaimed Magua, with a taunting laugh.
"Go!" he added, shaking his hand at the crowd, which had
slowly opened to admit his passage. "Where are the
petticoats of the Delawares! Let them send their arrows and
their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison to eat,
and corn to hoe. Dogs, rabbits, thieves -- I spit on you!"
His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding
silence, and, with these biting words in his mouth, the
triumphant Magua passed unmolested into the forest, followed
by his passive captive, and protected by the inviolable laws
of Indian hospitality.
CHAPTER 31
"Flue.--Kill the poys and the luggage! 'Tis expressly
against the law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery,
mark you now, as can be offered in the 'orld."--King
Henry V
So long as their enemy and his victim continued in sight,
the multitude remained motionless as beings charmed to the
place by some power that was friendly to the Huron; but, the
instant he disappeared, it became tossed and agitated by
fierce and powerful passion. Uncas maintained his elevated
stand, keeping his eyes on the form of Cora, until the
colors of her dress were blended with the foliage of the
forest; when he descended, and, moving silently through the
throng, he disappeared in that lodge from which he had so
recently issued. A few of the graver and more attentive
warriors, who caught the gleams of anger that shot from the
eyes of the young chief in passing, followed him to the
place he had selected for his meditations. After which,
Tamenund and Alice were removed, and the women and children
were ordered to disperse. During the momentous hour that
succeeded, the encampment resembled a hive of troubled bees,
who only awaited the appearance and example of their leader
to take some distant and momentous flight.
A young warrior at length issued from the lodge of Uncas;
and, moving deliberately, with a sort of grave march, toward
a dwarf pine that grew in the crevices of the rocky terrace,
he tore the bark from its body, and then turned whence he
came without speaking. He was soon followed by another, who
stripped the sapling of its branches, leaving it a naked and
blazed* trunk. A third colored the post with stripes of a
dark red paint; all which indications of a hostile design in
the leaders of the nation were received by the men without
in a gloomy and ominous silence. Finally, the Mohican
himself reappeared, divested of all his attire, except his
girdle and leggings, and with one-half of his fine features
hid under a cloud of threatening black.
* A tree which has been partially or entirely stripped
of its bark is said, in the language of the country, to be
"blazed." The term is strictly English, for a horse is said
to be blazed when it has a white mark.
Uncas moved with a slow and dignified tread toward the post,
which he immediately commenced encircling with a measured
step, not unlike an ancient dance, raising his voice, at the
same time, in the wild and irregular chant of his war song.
The notes were in the extremes of human sounds; being
sometimes melancholy and exquisitely plaintive, even
rivaling the melody of birds -- and then, by sudden and
startling transitions, causing the auditors to tremble by
their depth and energy. The words were few and often
repeated, proceeding gradually from a sort of invocation, or
hymn, to the Deity, to an intimation of the warrior's
object, and terminating as they commenced with an
acknowledgment of his own dependence on the Great Spirit.
If it were possible to translate the comprehensive and
melodious language in which he spoke, the ode might read
something like the following: "Manitou! Manitou! Manitou!
Thou art great, thou art good, thou art wise: Manitou!
Manitou! Thou art just. "In the heavens, in the clouds,
oh, I see many spots -- many dark, many red: In the heavens,
oh, I see many clouds."
"In the woods, in the air, oh, I
hear the whoop, the long yell, and the cry: In the woods,
oh, I hear the loud whoop!"
"Manitou! Manitou! Manitou! I am weak -- thou art strong;
I am slow; Manitou! Manitou! Give me aid."
At the end of what might be called each verse he made a
pause, by raising a note louder and longer than common, that
was peculiarly suited to the sentiment just expressed. The
first close was solemn, and intended to convey the idea of
veneration; the second descriptive, bordering on the alarming;
and the third was the well-known and terrific war-whoop, which
burst from the lips of the young warrior, like a combination
of all the frightful sounds of battle. The last was like the
first, humble and imploring. Three times did he repeat this
song, and as often did he encircle the post in his dance.
At the close of the first turn, a grave and highly esteemed
chief of the Lenape followed his example, singing words of
his own, however, to music of a similar character. Warrior
after warrior enlisted in the dance, until all of any renown
and authority were numbered in its mazes. The spectacle now
became wildly terrific; the fierce-looking and menacing
visages of the chiefs receiving additional power from the
appalling strains in which they mingled their guttural
tones. Just then Uncas struck his tomahawk deep into the
post, and raised his voice in a shout, which might be termed
his own battle cry. The act announced that he had assumed
the chief authority in the intended expedition.
It was a signal that awakened all the slumbering passions of
the nation. A hundred youths, who had hitherto been
restrained by the diffidence of their years, rushed in a
frantic body on the fancied emblem of their enemy, and
severed it asunder, splinter by splinter, until nothing
remained of the trunk but its roots in the earth. During
this moment of tumult, the most ruthless deeds of war were
performed on the fragments of the tree, with as much
apparent ferocity as if they were the living victims of
their cruelty. Some were scalped; some received the keen
and trembling axe; and others suffered by thrusts from the
fatal knife. In short, the manifestations of zeal and
fierce delight were so great and unequivocal, that the
expedition was declared to be a war of the nation.
The instant Uncas had struck the blow, he moved out of the
circle, and cast his eyes up to the sun, which was just
gaining the point, when the truce with Magua was to end.
The fact was soon announced by a significant gesture,
accompanied by a corresponding cry; and the whole of the
excited multitude abandoned their mimic warfare, with shrill
yells of pleasure, to prepare for the more hazardous
experiment of the reality.
The whole face of the encampment was instantly changed. The
warriors, who were already armed and painted, became as
still as if they were incapable of any uncommon burst of
emotion. On the other hand, the women broke out of the
lodges, with the songs of joy and those of lamentation so
strangely mixed that it might have been difficult to have
said which passion preponderated. None, however, was idle.
Some bore their choicest articles, others their young, and
some their aged and infirm, into the forest, which spread
itself like a verdant carpet of bright green against the
side of the mountain. Thither Tamenund also retired, with
calm composure, after a short and touching interview with
Uncas; from whom the sage separated with the reluctance that
a parent would quit a long lost and just recovered child.
In the meantime, Duncan saw Alice to a place of safety, and
then sought the scout, with a countenance that denoted how
eagerly he also panted for the approaching contest.
But Hawkeye was too much accustomed to the war song and the
enlistments of the natives, to betray any interest in the
passing scene. He merely cast an occasional look at the
number and quality of the warriors, who, from time to time,
signified their readiness to accompany Uncas to the field.
In this particular he was soon satisfied; for, as has been
already seen, the power of the young chief quickly embraced
every fighting man in the nation. After this material point
was so satisfactorily decided, he despatched an Indian boy
in quest of "killdeer" and the rifle of Uncas, to the place
where they had deposited their weapons on approaching the
camp of the Delawares; a measure of double policy, inasmuch
as it protected the arms from their own fate, if detained as
prisoners, and gave them the advantage of appearing among
the strangers rather as sufferers than as men provided with
means of defense and subsistence. In selecting another to
perform the office of reclaiming his highly prized rifle,
the scout had lost sight of none of his habitual caution.
He knew that Magua had not come unattended, and he also knew
that Huron spies watched the movements of their new enemies,
along the whole boundary of the woods. It would, therefore,
have been fatal to himself to have attempted the experiment;
a warrior would have fared no better; but the danger of a
boy would not be likely to commence until after his object
was discovered. When Heyward joined him, the scout was
coolly awaiting the result of this experiment.
The boy , who had been well instructed, and was sufficiently
crafty, proceeded, with a bosom that was swelling with the
pride of such a confidence, and all the hopes of young
ambition, carelessly across the clearing to the wood, which
he entered at a point at some little distance from the place
where the guns were secreted. The instant, however, he was
concealed by the foliage of the bushes, his dusky form was
to be seen gliding, like that of a serpent, toward the
desired treasure. He was successful; and in another moment
he appeared flying across the narrow opening that skirted
the base of the terrace on which the village stood, with the
velocity of an arrow, and bearing a prize in each hand. He
had actually gained the crags, and was leaping up their
sides with incredible activity, when a shot from the woods
showed how accurate had been the judgment of the scout. The
boy answered it with a feeble but contemptuous shout; and
immediately a second bullet was sent after him from another
part of the cover. At the next instant he appeared on the
level above, elevating his guns in triumph, while he moved
with the air of a conqueror toward the renowned hunter who
had honored him by so glorious a commission.
Notwithstanding the lively interest Hawkeye had taken in the
fate of his messenger, he received "killdeer" with a
satisfaction that, momentarily, drove all other
recollections from his mind. After examining the piece with
an intelligent eye, and opening and shutting the pan some
ten or fifteen times, and trying sundry other equally
important experiments on the lock, he turned to the boy and
demanded with great manifestations of kindness, if he was
hurt. The urchin looked proudly up in his face, but made no
reply.
"Ah! I see, lad, the knaves have barked your arm!" added the
scout, taking up the limb of the patient sufferer, across
which a deep flesh wound had been made by one of the
bullets; "but a little bruised alder will act like a charm.
In the meantime I will wrap it in a badge of wampum! You
have commenced the business of a warrior early, my brave
boy, and are likely to bear a plenty of honorable scars to
your grave. I know many young men that have taken scalps
who cannot show such a mark as this. Go! " having bound up
the arm; "you will be a chief!"
The lad departed, prouder of his flowing blood than the
vainest courtier could be of his blushing ribbon; and
stalked among the fellows of his age, an object of general
admiration and envy.
But, in a moment of so many serious and important duties,
this single act of juvenile fortitude did not attract the
general notice and commendation it would have received under
milder auspices. It had, however, served to apprise the
Delawares of the position and the intentions of their
enemies. Accordingly a party of adventurers, better suited
to the task than the weak though spirited boy, was ordered
to dislodge the skulkers. The duty was soon performed; for
most of the Hurons retired of themselves when they found
they had been discovered. The Delawares followed to a
sufficient distance from their own encampment, and then
halted for orders, apprehensive of being led into an ambush.
As both parties secreted themselves, the woods were again as
still and quiet as a mild summer morning and deep solitude
could render them.
The calm but still impatient Uncas now collected his chiefs,
and divided his power. He presented Hawkeye as a warrior,
often tried, and always found deserving of confidence. When
he found his friend met with a favorable reception, he
bestowed on him the command of twenty men, like himself,
active, skillful and resolute. He gave the Delawares to
understand the rank of Heyward among the troops of the
Yengeese, and then tendered to him a trust of equal
authority. But Duncan declined the charge, professing his
readiness to serve as a volunteer by the side of the scout.
After this disposition, the young Mohican appointed various
native chiefs to fill the different situations of
responsibility, and, the time pressing, he gave forth the
word to march. He was cheerfully, but silently obeyed by
more than two hundred men.
Their entrance into the forest was perfectly unmolested; nor
did they encounter any living objects that could either give
the alarm, or furnish the intelligence they needed, until
they came upon the lairs of their own scouts. Here a halt
was ordered, and the chiefs were assembled to hold a
"whispering council."
At this meeting divers plans of operation were suggested,
though none of a character to meet the wishes of their
ardent leader. Had Uncas followed the promptings of his own
inclinations, he would have led his followers to the charge
without a moment's delay, and put the conflict to the hazard
of an instant issue; but such a course would have been in
opposition to all the received practises and opinions of his
countrymen. He was, therefore, fain to adopt a caution that
in the present temper of his mind he execrated, and to
listen to advice at which his fiery spirit chafed, under the
vivid recollection of Cora's danger and Magua's insolence.
After an unsatisfactory conference of many minutes, a
solitary individual was seen advancing from the side of the
enemy, with such apparent haste, as to induce the belief he
might be a messenger charged with pacific overtures. When
within a hundred yards, however, of the cover behind which
the Delaware council had assembled, the stranger hesitated,
appeared uncertain what course to take, and finally halted.
All eyes were turned now on Uncas, as if seeking directions
how to proceed.
"Hawkeye," said the young chief, in a low voice, "he must
never speak to the Hurons again."
"His time has come," said the laconic scout, thrusting the
long barrel of his rifle through the leaves, and taking his
deliberate and fatal aim. But, instead of pulling the
trigger, he lowered the muzzle again, and indulged himself
in a fit of his peculiar mirth. "I took the imp for a
Mingo, as I'm a miserable sinner!" he said; "but when my eye
ranged along his ribs for a place to get the bullet in --
would you think it, Uncas -- I saw the musicianer's blower;
and so, after all, it is the man they call Gamut, whose
death can profit no one, and whose life, if this tongue can
do anything but sing, may be made serviceable to our own
ends. If sounds have not lost their virtue, I'll soon have
a discourse with the honest fellow, and that in a voice
he'll find more agreeable than the speech of 'killdeer'."
So saying, Hawkeye laid aside his rifle; and, crawling
through the bushes until within hearing of David, he
attempted to repeat the musical effort, which had conducted
himself, with so much safety and eclat, through the Huron
encampment. The exquisite organs of Gamut could not readily
be deceived (and, to say the truth, it would have been
difficult for any other than Hawkeye to produce a similar
noise), and, consequently, having once before heard the
sounds, he now knew whence they proceeded. The poor fellow
appeared relieved from a state of great embarrassment; for,
pursuing the direction of the voice -- a task that to him
was not much less arduous that it would have been to have
gone up in the face of a battery -- he soon discovered the
hidden songster.
"I wonder what the Hurons will think of that!" said the
scout, laughing, as he took his companion by the arm, and
urged him toward the rear. "If the knaves lie within
earshot, they will say there are two non-compossers instead
of one! But here we are safe," he added, pointing to Uncas
and his associates. "Now give us the history of the Mingo
inventions in natural English, and without any ups and downs
of voice."
David gazed about him, at the fierce and wild-looking
chiefs, in mute wonder; but assured by the presence of faces
that he knew, he soon rallied his faculties so far as to
make an intelligent reply.
"The heathen are abroad in goodly numbers," said David;
"and, I fear, with evil intent. There has been much howling
and ungodly revelry, together with such sounds as it is
profanity to utter, in their habitations within the past
hour, so much so, in truth, that I have fled to the
Delawares in search of peace."
"Your ears might not have profited much by the exchange, had
you been quicker of foot," returned the scout a little
dryly. "But let that be as it may; where are the Hurons?"
"They lie hid in the forest, between this spot and their
village in such force, that prudence would teach you
instantly to return."
Uncas cast a glance along the range of trees which concealed
his own band and mentioned the name of:
"Magua?"
"Is among them. He brought in the maiden that had sojourned
with the Delawares; and, leaving her in the cave, has put
himself, like a raging wolf, at the head of his savages. I
know not what has troubled his spirit so greatly!"
"He has left her, you say, in the cave!" interrupted
Heyward; "'tis well that we know its situation! May not
something be done for her instant relief?"
Uncas looked earnestly at the scout, before he asked:
"What says Hawkeye?"
"Give me twenty rifles, and I will turn to the right, along
the stream; and, passing by the huts of the beaver, will
join the Sagamore and the colonel. You shall then hear the
whoop from that quarter; with this wind one may easily send
it a mile. Then, Uncas, do you drive in the front; when
they come within range of our pieces, we will give them a
blow that, I pledge the good name of an old frontiersman,
shall make their line bend like an ashen bow. After which,
we will carry the village, and take the woman from the cave;
when the affair may be finished with the tribe, according to
a white man's battle, by a blow and a victory; or, in the
Indian fashion, with dodge and cover. There may be no great
learning, major, in this plan, but with courage and patience
it can all be done."
"I like it very much," cried Duncan, who saw that the
release of Cora was the primary object in the mind of the
scout; "I like it much. Let it be instantly attempted."
After a short conference, the plan was matured, and rendered
more intelligible to the several parties; the different
signals were appointed, and the chiefs separated, each to
his allotted station.
CHAPTER 32
"But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase, Till
the great king, without a ransom paid, To her own Chrysa
send the black-eyed maid."--Pope
During the time Uncas was making this disposition of his
forces, the woods were as still, and, with the exception of
those who had met in council, apparently as much untenanted
as when they came fresh from the hands of their Almighty
Creator. The eye could range, in every direction, through
the long and shadowed vistas of the trees; but nowhere was
any object to be seen that did not properly belong to the
peaceful and slumbering scenery.
Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the
branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel dropped
a nut, drawing the startled looks of the party for a moment
to the place; but the instant the casual interruption
ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring above their
heads, along that verdant and undulating surface of forest,
which spread itself unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over
such a vast region of country. Across the tract of
wilderness which lay between the Delawares and the village
of their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of man had never
trodden, so breathing and deep was the silence in which it
lay. But Hawkeye, whose duty led him foremost in the
adventure, knew the character of those with whom he was
about to contend too well to trust the treacherous quiet.
When he saw his little band collected, the scout threw
"killdeer" into the hollow of his arm, and making a silent
signal that he would be followed, he led them many rods
toward the rear, into the bed of a little brook which they
had crossed in advancing. Here he halted, and after waiting
for the whole of his grave and attentive warriors to close
about him, he spoke in Delaware, demanding:
"Do any of my young men know whither this run will lead us?"
A Delaware stretched forth a hand, with the two fingers
separated, and indicating the manner in which they were
joined at the root, he answered:
"Before the sun could go his own length, the little water
will be in the big." Then he added, pointing in the
direction of the place he mentioned, "the two make enough
for the beavers."
"I thought as much," returned the scout, glancing his eye
upward at the opening in the tree-tops, "from the course it
takes, and the bearings of the mountains. Men, we will keep
within the cover of its banks till we scent the Hurons."
His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of assent,
but, perceiving that their leader was about to lead the way
in person, one or two made signs that all was not as it
should be. Hawkeye, who comprehended their meaning glances,
turned and perceived that his party had been followed thus
far by the singing-master.
"Do you know, friend," asked the scout, gravely, and perhaps
with a little of the pride of conscious deserving in his
manner, "that this is a band of rangers chosen for the most
desperate service, and put under the command of one who,
though another might say it with a better face, will not be
apt to leave them idle. It may not be five, it cannot be
thirty minutes, before we tread on the body of a Huron,
living or dead."
"Though not admonished of your intentions in words,"
returned David, whose face was a little flushed, and whose
ordinarily quiet and unmeaning eyes glimmered with an
expression of unusual fire, "your men have reminded me of
the children of Jacob going out to battle against the
Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to wedlock with a woman
of a race that was favored of the Lord. Now, I have
journeyed far, and sojourned much in good and evil with the
maiden ye seek; and, though not a man of war, with my loins
girded and my sword sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a
blow in her behalf."
The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such a
strange enlistment in his mind before he answered:
"You know not the use of any we'pon. You carry no rifle;
and believe me, what the Mingoes take they will freely give
again."
"Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed Goliath,"
returned David, drawing a sling from beneath his particolored
and uncouth attire, "I have not forgotten the
example of the Jewish boy. With this ancient instrument of
war have I practised much in my youth, and peradventure the
skill has not entirely departed from me."
"Ay!" said Hawkeye, considering the deer-skin thong and
apron, with a cold and discouraging eye; "the thing might do
its work among arrows, or even knives; but these Mengwe have
been furnished by the Frenchers with a good grooved barrel a
man. However, it seems to be your gift to go unharmed amid
fire; and as you have hitherto been favored -- major, you
have left your rifle at a cock; a single shot before the
time would be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose --
singer, you can follow; we may find use for you in the
shoutings."
"I thank you, friend," returned David, supplying himself,
like his royal namesake, from among the pebbles of the
brook; "though not given to the desire to kill, had you sent
me away my spirit would have been troubled."
"Remember," added the scout, tapping his own head
significantly on that spot where Gamut was yet sore, "we
come to fight, and not to musickate. Until the general
whoop is given, nothing speaks but the rifle."
David nodded, as much to signify his acquiescence with the
terms; and then Hawkeye, casting another observant glance
over this followers made the signal to proceed.
Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the bed
of the water-course. Though protected from any great danger
of observation by the precipitous banks, and the thick
shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution known to
an Indian attack was neglected. A warrior rather crawled
than walked on each flank so as to catch occasional glimpses
into the forest; and every few minutes the band came to a
halt, and listened for hostile sounds, with an acuteness of
organs that would be scarcely conceivable to a man in a less
natural state. Their march was, however, unmolested, and
they reached the point where the lesser stream was lost in
the greater, without the smallest evidence that their
progress had been noted. Here the scout again halted, to
consult the signs of the forest.
"We are likely to have a good day for a fight," he said, in
English, addressing Heyward, and glancing his eyes upward at
the clouds, which began to move in broad sheets across the
firmament; "a bright sun and a glittering barrel are no
friends to true sight. Everything is favorable; they have
the wind, which will bring down their noises and their
smoke, too, no little matter in itself; whereas, with us it
will be first a shot, and then a clear view. But here is an
end to our cover; the beavers have had the range of this
stream for hundreds of years, and what atween their food and
their dams, there is, as you see, many a girdled stub, but
few living trees."
Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no bad
description of the prospect that now lay in their front.
The brook was irregular in its width, sometimes shooting
through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at others
spreading over acres of bottom land, forming little areas
that might be termed ponds. Everywhere along its bands were
the moldering relics of dead trees, in all the stages of
decay, from those that groaned on their tottering trunks to
such as had recently been robbed of those rugged coats that
so mysteriously contain their principle of life. A few
long, low, and moss-covered piles were scattered among them,
like the memorials of a former and long-departed generation.
All these minute particulars were noted by the scout, with a
gravity and interest that they probably had never before
attracted. He knew that the Huron encampment lay a short
half mile up the brook; and, with the characteristic anxiety
of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he was greatly troubled
at not finding the smallest trace of the presence of his
enemy. Once or twice he felt induced to give the order for
a rush, and to attempt the village by surprise; but his
experience quickly admonished him of the danger of so
useless an experiment. Then he listened intently, and with
painful uncertainty, for the sounds of hostility in the
quarter where Uncas was left; but nothing was audible except
the sighing of the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom
of the forest in gusts which threatened a tempest. At
length, yielding rather to his unusual impatience than
taking counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring
matters to an issue, by unmasking his force, and proceeding
cautiously, but steadily, up the stream.
The scout had stood, while making his observations,
sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the
bed of the ravine, through which the smaller stream
debouched; but on hearing his low, though intelligible,
signal the whole party stole up the bank, like so many dark
specters, and silently arranged themselves around him.
Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, Hawkeye
advanced, the band breaking off in single files, and
following so accurately in his footsteps, as to leave it, if
we except Heyward and David, the trail of but a single man.
The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a volley
from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear; and a Delaware
leaping high in to the air, like a wounded deer, fell at his
whole length, dead.
"Ah, I feared some deviltry like this!" exclaimed the scout,
in English, adding, with the quickness of thought, in his
adopted tongue: "To cover, men, and charge!"
The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward had well
recovered from his surprise, he found himself standing alone
with David. Luckily the Hurons had already fallen back, and
he was safe from their fire. But this state of things was
evidently to be of short continuance; for the scout set the
example of pressing on their retreat, by discharging his
rifle, and darting from tree to tree as his enemy slowly
yielded ground.
It would seem that the assault had been made by a very small
party of the Hurons, which, however, continued to increase
in numbers, as it retired on its friends, until the return
fire was very nearly, if not quite, equal to that maintained
by the advancing Delawares. Heyward threw himself among the
combatants, and imitating the necessary caution of his
companions, he made quick discharges with his own rifle.
The contest now grew warm and stationary. Few were injured,
as both parties kept their bodies as much protected as
possible by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of
their persons except in the act of taking aim. But the
chances were gradually growing unfavorable to Hawkeye and
his band. The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger
without knowing how to remedy it. He saw it was more
dangerous to retreat than to maintain his ground: while he
found his enemy throwing out men on his flank; which
rendered the task of keeping themselves covered so very
difficult to the Delawares, as nearly to silence their fire.
At this embarrassing moment, when they began to think the
whole of the hostile tribe was gradually encircling them,
they heard the yell of combatants and the rattling of arms
echoing under the arches of the wood at the place where
Uncas was posted, a bottom which, in a manner, lay beneath
the ground on which Hawkeye and his party were contending.
The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to the
scout and his friends greatly relieving. It would seem
that, while his own surprise had been anticipated, and had
consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, having been
deceived in its object and in his numbers, had left too
small a force to resist the impetuous onset of the young
Mohican. This fact was doubly apparent, by the rapid manner
in which the battle in the forest rolled upward toward the
village, and by an instant falling off in the number of
their assailants, who rushed to assist in maintaining the
front, and, as it now proved to be, the principal point of
defense.
Animating his followers by his voice, and his own example,
Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon their foes.
The charge, in that rude species of warfare, consisted
merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher to the enemy;
and in this maneuver he was instantly and successfully
obeyed. The Hurons were compelled to withdraw, and the
scene of the contest rapidly changed from the more open
ground, on which it had commenced, to a spot where the
assailed found a thicket to rest upon. Here the struggle
was protracted, arduous and seemingly of doubtful issue; the
Delawares, though none of them fell, beginning to bleed
freely, in consequence of the disadvantage at which they
were held.
In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind the same
tree as that which served for a cover to Heyward; most of
his own combatants being within call, a little on his right,
where they maintained rapid, though fruitless, discharges on
their sheltered enemies.
"You are a young man, major," said the scout, dropping the
butt of "killdeer" to the earth, and leaning on the barrel,
a little fatigued with his previous industry; "and it may be
your gift to lead armies, at some future day, ag'in these
imps, the Mingoes. You may here see the philosophy of an
Indian fight. It consists mainly in ready hand, a quick eye
and a good cover. Now, if you had a company of the Royal
Americans here, in what manner would you set them to work in
this business?"
"The bayonet would make a road."
"Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a man must
ask himself, in this wilderness, how many lives he can
spare. No -- horse*," continued the scout, shaking his
head, like one who mused; "horse, I am ashamed to say must
sooner or later decide these scrimmages. The brutes are
better than men, and to horse must we come at last. Put a
shodden hoof on the moccasin of a red-skin, and, if his
rifle be once emptied, he will never stop to load it again."
* The American forest admits of the passage of horses,
there being little underbrush, and few tangled brakes. The
plan of Hawkeye is the one which has always proved the most
successful in the battles between the whites and the
Indians. Wayne, in his celebrated campaign on the Miami,
received the fire of his enemies in line; and then causing
his dragoons to wheel round his flanks, the Indians were
driven from their covers before they had time to load. One
of the most conspicuous of the chiefs who fought in the
battle of Miami assured the writer, that the red men could
not fight the warriors with "long knives and leather
stockings"; meaning the dragoons with their sabers and
boots.
"This is a subject that might better be discussed at another
time," returned Heyward; "shall we charge?"
"I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in passing
his breathing spells in useful reflections," the scout
replied. "As to rush, I little relish such a measure; for a
scalp or two must be thrown away in the attempt. And yet,"
he added, bending his head aside, to catch the sounds of the
distant combat, "if we are to be of use to Uncas, these
knaves in our front must be got rid of."
Then, turning with a prompt and decided air, he called aloud
to his Indians, in their own language. His words were
answered by a shout; and, at a given signal, each warrior
made a swift movement around his particular tree. The sight
of so many dark bodies, glancing before their eyes at the
same instant, drew a hasty and consequently an ineffectual
fire from the Hurons. Without stopping to breathe, the
Delawares leaped in long bounds toward the wood, like so
many panthers springing upon their prey. Hawkeye was in
front, brandishing his terrible rifle and animating his
followers by his example. A few of the older and more
cunning Hurons, who had not been deceived by the artifice
which had been practiced to draw their fire, now made a
close and deadly discharge of their pieces and justified the
apprehensions of the scout by felling three of his foremost
warriors. But the shock was insufficient to repel the
impetus of the charge. The Delawares broke into the cover
with the ferocity of their natures and swept away every
trace of resistance by the fury of the onset.
The combat endured only for an instant, hand to hand, and
then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until they reached
the opposite margin of the thicket, where they clung to the
cover, with the sort of obstinacy that is so often witnessed
in hunted brutes. At this critical moment, when the success
of the struggle was again becoming doubtful, the crack of a
rifle was heard behind the Hurons, and a bullet came
whizzing from among some beaver lodges, which were situated
in the clearing, in their rear, and was followed by the
fierce and appalling yell of the war-whoop.
"There speaks the Sagamore!" shouted Hawkeye, answering the
cry with his own stentorian voice; "we have them now in face
and back!"
The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous. Discouraged by
an assault from a quarter that left them no opportunity for
cover, the warriors uttered a common yell of disappointment,
and breaking off in a body, they spread themselves across
the opening, heedless of every consideration but flight.
Many fell, in making the experiment, under the bullets and
the blows of the pursuing Delawares.
We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the scout
and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview that Duncan
held with Munro. A few brief and hurried words served to
explain the state of things to both parties; and then
Hawkeye, pointing out the Sagamore to his band, resigned the
chief authority into the hands of the Mohican chief.
Chingachgook assumed the station to which his birth and
experience gave him so distinguished a claim, with the grave
dignity that always gives force to the mandates of a native
warrior. Following the footsteps of the scout, he led the
party back through the thicket, his men scalping the fallen
Hurons and secreting the bodies of their own dead as they
proceeded, until they gained a point where the former was
content to make a halt.
The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in the
preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level
ground, sprinkled with trees in sufficient numbers to
conceal them. The land fell away rather precipitately in
front, and beneath their eyes stretched, for several miles,
a narrow, dark, and wooded vale. It was through this dense
and dark forest that Uncas was still contending with the
main body of the Hurons.
The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of the
hill, and listened, with practised ears, to the sounds of
the combat. A few birds hovered over the leafy bosom of the
valley, frightened from their secluded nests; and here and
there a light vapory cloud, which seemed already blending
with the atmosphere, arose above the trees, and indicated
some spot where the struggle had been fierce and stationary.
"The fight is coming up the ascent," said Duncan, pointing
in the direction of a new explosion of firearms; "we are too
much in the center of their line to be effective."
"They will incline into the hollow, where the cover is
thicker," said the scout, "and that will leave us well on
their flank. Go, Sagamore; you will hardly be in time to
give the whoop, and lead on the young men. I will fight
this scrimmage with warriors of my own color. You know me,
Mohican; not a Huron of them all shall cross the swell, into
your rear, without the notice of 'killdeer'."
The Indian chief paused another moment to consider the signs
of the contest, which was now rolling rapidly up the ascent,
a certain evidence that the Delawares triumphed; nor did he
actually quit the place until admonished of the proximity of
his friends, as well as enemies, by the bullets of the
former, which began to patter among the dried leaves on the
ground, like the bits of falling hail which precede the
bursting of the tempest. Hawkeye and his three companions
withdrew a few paces to a shelter, and awaited the issue
with calmness that nothing but great practise could impart
in such a scene.
It was not long before the reports of the rifles began to
lose the echoes of the woods, and to sound like weapons
discharged in the open air. Then a warrior appeared, here
and there, driven to the skirts of the forest, and rallying
as he entered the clearing, as at the place where the final
stand was to be made. These were soon joined by others,
until a long line of swarthy figures was to be seen clinging
to the cover with the obstinacy of desperation. Heyward
began to grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in
the direction of Chingachgook. The chief was seated on a
rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage, considering
the spectacle with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted
there merely to view the struggle.
"The time has come for the Delaware to strike!" said Duncan.
"Not so, not so," returned the scout; "when he scents his
friends, he will let them know that he is here. See, see;
the knaves are getting in that clump of pines, like bees
settling after their flight. By the Lord, a squaw might put
a bullet into the center of such a knot of dark skins!"
At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons fell
by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band. The shout
that followed was answered by a single war-cry from the
forest, and a yell passed through the air that sounded as if
a thousand throats were united in a common effort. The
Hurons staggered, deserting the center of their line, and
Uncas issued from the forest through the opening they left,
at the head of a hundred warriors.
Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out
the enemy to his followers, who separated in pursuit. The
war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons seeking
protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the
victorious warriors of the Lenape. A minute might have
passed, but the sounds were already receding in different
directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath
the echoing arches of the woods. One little knot of Hurons,
however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring,
like lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity
which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted, to mingle
more closely in the fray. Magua was conspicuous in this
party, both by his fierce and savage mien, and by the air of
haughty authority he yet maintained.
In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had left
himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye caught the
figure of Le Subtil, every other consideration was
forgotten. Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some
six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity of
their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy. Le Renard, who
watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy.
But at the moment when he thought the rashness of his
impetuous young assailant had left him at his mercy, another
shout was given, and La Longue Carabine was seen rushing to
the rescue, attended by all his white associates. The Huron
instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the
ascent.
There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for
Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends,
continued the pursuit with the velocity of the wind. In
vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the covers; the young
Mohican braved the dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon
compelled them to a flight as swift as his own headlong
speed. It was fortunate that the race was of short
continuance, and that the white men were much favored by
their position, or the Delaware would soon have outstripped
all his companions, and fallen a victim to his own temerity.
But, ere such a calamity could happen, the pursuers and
pursued entered the Wyandot village, within striking
distance of each other.
Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the
chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought around their
council-lodge with the fury of despair. The onset and the
issue were like the passage and destruction of a whirlwind.
The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawkeye, and even the
still nervous arm of Munro were all busy for that passing
moment, and the ground was quickly strewed with their
enemies. Still Magua, though daring and much exposed,
escaped from every effort against his life, with that sort
of fabled protection that was made to overlook the fortunes
of favored heroes in the legends of ancient poetry. Raising
a yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the
subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted away
from the place, attended by his two only surviving friends,
leaving the Delawares engaged in stripping the dead of the
bloody trophies of their victory.
But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the melee, bounded
forward in pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward and David still
pressing on his footsteps. The utmost that the scout could
effect, was to keep the muzzle of his rifle a little in
advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered every
purpose of a charmed shield. Once Magua appeared disposed
to make another and a final effort to revenge his losses;
but, abandoning his intention as soon as demonstrated, he
leaped into a thicket of bushes, through which he was
followed by his enemies, and suddenly entered the mouth of
the cave already known to the reader. Hawkeye, who had only
forborne to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of
success, and proclaimed aloud that now they were certain of
their game. The pursuers dashed into the long and narrow
entrance, in time to catch a glimpse of the retreating forms
of the Hurons. Their passage through the natural galleries
and subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by
the shrieks and cries of hundreds of women and children.
The place, seen by its dim and uncertain light, appeared
like the shades of the infernal regions, across which
unhappy ghosts and savage demons were flitting in
multitudes.
Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him
possessed but a single object. Heyward and the scout still
pressed on his rear, actuated, though possibly in a less
degree, by a common feeling. But their way was becoming
intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and the
glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and
frequent; and for a moment the trace was believed to be
lost, when a white robe was seen fluttering in the further
extremity of a passage that seemed to lead up the mountain.
"'Tis Cora!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror
and delight were wildly mingled.
"Cora! Cora!" echoed Uncas, bounding forward like a deer.
"'Tis the maiden!" shouted the scout. "Courage, lady; we
come! we come!"
The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tenfold
encouraging by this glimpse of the captive. But the way was
rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impassable. Uncas
abandoned his rifle, and leaped forward with headlong
precipitation. Heyward rashly imitated his example, though
both were, a moment afterward, admonished of his madness by
hearing the bellowing of a piece, that the Hurons found time
to discharge down the passage in the rocks, the bullet from
which even gave the young Mohican a slight wound.
"We must close!" said the scout, passing his friends by a
desperate leap; "the knaves will pick us all off at this
distance; and see, they hold the maiden so as to shield
themselves!"
Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, his
example was followed by his companions, who, by incredible
exertions, got near enough to the fugitives to perceive that
Cora was borne along between the two warriors while Magua
prescribed the direction and manner of their flight. At
this moment the forms of all four were strongly drawn
against an opening in the sky, and they disappeared. Nearly
frantic with disappointment, Uncas and Heyward increased
efforts that already seemed superhuman, and they issued from
the cavern on the side of the mountain, in time to note the
route of the pursued. The course lay up the ascent, and
still continued hazardous and laborious.
Encumbered by his rifle, and, perhaps, not sustained by so
deep an interest in the captive as his companions, the scout
suffered the latter to precede him a little, Uncas, in his
turn, taking the lead of Heyward. In this manner, rocks,
precipices and difficulties were surmounted in an incredibly
short space, that at another time, and under other
circumstances, would have been deemed almost insuperable.
But the impetuous young men were rewarded by finding that,
encumbered with Cora, the Hurons were losing ground in the
race.
"Stay, dog of the Wyandots!" exclaimed Uncas, shaking his
bright tomahawk at Magua; "a Delaware girl calls stay!"
"I will go no further!" cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on
a ledge of rock, that overhung a deep precipice, at no great
distance from the summit of the mountain. "Kill me if thou
wilt, detestable Huron; I will go no further."
The supporters of the maiden raised their ready tomahawks
with the impious joy that fiends are thought to take in
mischief, but Magua stayed the uplifted arms. The Huron
chief, after casting the weapons he had wrested from his
companions over the rock, drew his knife, and turned to his
captive, with a look in which conflicting passions fiercely
contended.
"Woman," he said, "chose; the wigwam or the knife of Le
Subtil!"
Cora regarded him not, but dropping on her knees, she raised
her eyes and stretched her arms toward heaven, saying in a
meek and yet confiding voice:
"I am thine; do with me as thou seest best!"
"Woman," repeated Magua, hoarsely, and endeavoring in vain
to catch a glance from her serene and beaming eye, "choose!"
But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand. The form of
the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised his arm on
high, but dropped it again with a bewildered air, like one
who doubted. Once more he struggled with himself and lifted
the keen weapon again; but just then a piercing cry was
heard above them, and Uncas appeared, leaping frantically,
from a fearful height, upon the ledge. Magua recoiled a
step; and one of his assistants, profiting by the chance,
sheathed his own knife in the bosom of Cora.
The Huron sprang like a tiger on his offending and already
retreating country man, but the falling form of Uncas
separated the unnatural combatants. Diverted from his
object by this interruption, and maddened by the murder he
had just witnessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of
the prostrate Delaware, uttering an unearthly shout as he
committed the dastardly deed. But Uncas arose from the
blow, as the wounded panther turns upon his foe, and struck
the murderer of Cora to his feet, by an effort in which the
last of his failing strength was expended. Then, with a
stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated
by the expression of his eye all that he would do had not
the power deserted him. The latter seized the nerveless arm
of the unresisting Delaware, and passed his knife into his
bosom three several times, before his victim, still keeping
his gaze riveted on his enemy, with a look of
inextinguishable scorn, fell dead at his feet.
"Mercy! mercy! Huron," cried Heyward, from above, in tones
nearly choked by horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive
from it!"
Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the
victorious Magua uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet
so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage triumph to
the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet
below. He was answered by a burst from the lips of the
scout, whose tall person was just then seen moving swiftly
toward him, along those dangerous crags, with steps as bold
and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air.
But when the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless
massacre, the ledge was tenanted only by the dead.
His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then
shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his
front. A form stood at the brow of the mountain, on the
very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an
awful attitude of menace. Without stopping to consider his
person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised; but a rock, which
fell on the head of one of the fugitives below, exposed the
indignant and glowing countenance of the honest Gamut. Then
Magua issued from a crevice, and, stepping with calm
indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he
leaped a wide fissure, and ascended the rocks at a point
where the arm of David could not reach him. A single bound
would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and assure his
safety. Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused,
and shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted:
"The pale faces are dogs! the Delawares women! Magua leaves
them on the rocks, for the crows!"
Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short
of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub on the verge
of the height. The form of Hawkeye had crouched like a
beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so
violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised
rifle played like a leaf fluttering in the wind. Without
exhausting himself with fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua
suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and
found a fragment for his feet to rest on. Then, summoning
all his powers, he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded
as to draw his knees on the edge of the mountain. It was
now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together,
that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his
shoulder. The surrounding rocks themselves were not
steadier than the piece became, for the single instant that
it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron relaxed,
and his body fell back a little, while his knees still kept
their position. Turning a relentless look on his enemy, he
shook a hand in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and
his dark person was seen cutting the air with its head
downward, for a fleeting instant, until it glided past the
fringe of shrubbery which clung to the mountain, in its
rapid flight to destruction.
CHAPTER 33
"They fought, like brave men, long and well, They piled that
ground with Moslem slain, They conquered--but Bozzaris
fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades
saw His smile when rang their loud hurrah, And the red field
was won; Then saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a
night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun."--Halleck
The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding day, a nation of
mourners. The sounds of the battle were over, and they had
fed fat their ancient grudge, and had avenged their recent
quarrel with the Mengwe, by the destruction of a whole
community. The black and murky atmosphere that floated
around the spot where the Hurons had encamped, sufficiently
announced of itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while
hundreds of ravens, that struggled above the summits of the
mountains, or swept, in noisy flocks, across the wide ranges
of the woods, furnished a frightful direction to the scene
of the combat. In short, any eye at all practised in the
signs of a frontier warfare might easily have traced all
those unerring evidences of the ruthless results which
attend an Indian vengeance.
Still, the sun rose on the Lenape a nation of mourners. No
shouts of success, no songs of triumph, were heard, in
rejoicings for their victory. The latest straggler had
returned from his fell employment, only to strip himself of
the terrific emblems of his bloody calling, and to join in
the lamentations of his countrymen, as a stricken people.
Pride and exultation were supplanted by humility, and the
fiercest of human passions was already succeeded by the most
profound and unequivocal demonstrations of grief.
The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest faces
encircled a spot in their vicinity, whither everything
possessing life had repaired, and where all were now
collected, in deep and awful silence. Though beings of
every rank and age, of both sexes, and of all pursuits, had
united to form this breathing wall of bodies, they were
influenced by a single emotion. Each eye was riveted on the
center of that ring, which contained the objects of so much
and of so common an interest.
Six Delaware girls, with their long, dark, flowing tresses
falling loosely across their bosoms, stood apart, and only
gave proof of their existence as they occasionally strewed
sweet-scented herbs and forest flowers on a litter of
fragrant plants that, under a pall of Indian robes,
supported all that now remained of the ardent, high-souled,
and generous Cora. Her form was concealed in many wrappers
of the same simple manufacture, and her face was shut
forever from the gaze of men. At her feet was seated the
desolate Munro. His aged head was bowed nearly to the
earth, in compelled submission to the stroke of Providence;
but a hidden anguish struggled about his furrowed brow, that
was only partially concealed by the careless locks of gray
that had fallen, neglected, on his temples. Gamut stood at
his side, his meek head bared to the rays of the sun, while
his eyes, wandering and concerned, seemed to be equally
divided between that little volume, which contained so many
quaint but holy maxims, and the being in whose behalf his
soul yearned to administer consolation. Heyward was also
nigh, supporting himself against a tree, and endeavoring to
keep down those sudden risings of sorrow that it required
his utmost manhood to subdue.
But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be imagined,
it was far less touching than another, that occupied the
opposite space of the same area. Seated, as in life, with
his form and limbs arranged in grave and decent composure,
Uncas appeared, arrayed in the most gorgeous ornaments that
the wealth of the tribe could furnish. Rich plumes nodded
above his head; wampum, gorgets, bracelets, and medals,
adorned his person in profusion; though his dull eye and
vacant lineaments too strongly contradicted the idle tale of
pride they would convey.
Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was placed,
without arms, paint or adornment of any sort, except the
bright blue blazonry of his race, that was indelibly
impressed on his naked bosom. During the long period that
the tribe had thus been collected, the Mohican warrior had
kept a steady, anxious look on the cold and senseless
countenance of his son. So riveted and intense had been
that gaze, and so changeless his attitude, that a stranger
might not have told the living from the dead, but for the
occasional gleamings of a troubled spirit, that shot athwart
the dark visage of one, and the deathlike calm that had
forever settled on the lineaments of the other. The scout
was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal
and avenging weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders
of his nation, occupied a high place at hand, whence he
might look down on the mute and sorrowful assemblage of his
people.
Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a soldier, in
the military attire of a strange nation; and without it was
his warhorse, in the center of a collection of mounted
domestics, seemingly in readiness to undertake some distant
journey. The vestments of the stranger announced him to be
one who held a responsible situation near the person of the
captain of the Canadas; and who, as it would now seem,
finding his errand of peace frustrated by the fierce
impetuosity of his allies, was content to become a silent
and sad spectator of the fruits of a contest that he had
arrived too late to anticipate.
The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, and
yet had the multitude maintained its breathing stillness
since its dawn.
No sound louder than a stifled sob had been heard among
them, nor had even a limb been moved throughout that long
and painful period, except to perform the simple and
touching offerings that were made, from time to time, in
commemoration of the dead. The patience and forbearance of
Indian fortitude could alone support such an appearance of
abstraction, as seemed now to have turned each dark and
motionless figure into stone.
At length, the sage of the Delawares stretched forth an arm,
and leaning on the shoulders of his attendants, he arose
with an air as feeble as if another age had already
intervened between the man who had met his nation the
preceding day, and him who now tottered on his elevated
stand.
"Men of the Lenape!" he said, in low, hollow tones, that
sounded like a voice charged with some prophetic mission:
"the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud! His eye is
turned from you; His ears are shut; His tongue gives no
answer. You see him not; yet His judgments are before you.
Let your hearts be open and your spirits tell no lie. Men
of the Lenape! the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud."
As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on the
ears of the multitude, a stillness as deep and awful
succeeded as if the venerated spirit they worshiped had
uttered the words without the aid of human organs; and even
the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, compared with
the humbled and submissive throng by whom he was surrounded.
As the immediate effect, however, gradually passed away, a
low murmur of voices commenced a sort of chant in honor of
the dead. The sounds were those of females, and were
thrillingly soft and wailing. The words were connected by
no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took up
the eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called,
and gave vent to her emotions in such language as was
suggested by her feelings and the occasion. At intervals
the speaker was interrupted by general and loud bursts of
sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of Cora
plucked the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if
bewildered with grief. But, in the milder moments of their
plaint, these emblems of purity and sweetness were cast back
to their places, with every sign of tenderness and regret.
Though rendered less connected by many and general
interruptions and outbreakings, a translation of their
language would have contained a regular descant, which, in
substance, might have proved to possess a train of
consecutive ideas.
A girl, selected for the task by her rank and
qualifications, commenced by modest allusions to the
qualities of the deceased warrior, embellishing her
expressions with those oriental images that the Indians have
probably brought with them from the extremes of the other
continent, and which form of themselves a link to connect
the ancient histories of the two worlds. She called him the
"panther of his tribe"; and described him as one whose
moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose bound was like the
leap of a young fawn; whose eye was brighter than a star in
the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the
thunder of the Manitou. She reminded him of the mother who
bore him, and dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel
in possessing such a son. She bade him tell her, when they
met in the world of spirits, that the Delaware girls had
shed tears above the grave of her child, and had called her
blessed.
Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder
and still more tender strain, alluded, with the delicacy and
sensitiveness of women, to the stranger maiden, who had left
the upper earth at a time so near his own departure, as to
render the will of the Great Spirit too manifest to be
disregarded. They admonished him to be kind to her, and to
have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which
were so necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself.
They dwelled upon her matchless beauty, and on her noble
resolution, without the taint of envy, and as angels may be
thought to delight in a superior excellence; adding, that
these endowments should prove more than equivalent for any
little imperfection in her education.
After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the
maiden herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and
love. They exhorted her to be of cheerful mind, and to fear
nothing for her future welfare. A hunter would be her
companion, who knew how to provide for her smallest wants;
and a warrior was at her side who was able to protect he
against every danger. They promised that her path should be
pleasant, and her burden light. They cautioned her against
unavailing regrets for the friends of her youth, and the
scenes where her father had dwelt; assuring her that the
"blessed hunting grounds of the Lenape," contained vales as
pleasant, streams as pure; and flowers as sweet, as the
"heaven of the pale faces." They advised her to be
attentive to the wants of her companion, and never to forget
the distinction which the Manitou had so wisely established
between them. Then, in a wild burst of their chant they
sang with united voices the temper of the Mohican's mind.
They pronounced him noble, manly and generous; all that
became a warrior, and all that a maid might love. Clothing
their ideas in the most remote and subtle images, they
betrayed, that, in the short period of their intercourse,
they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their
sex, the truant disposition of his inclinations. The
Delaware girls had found no favor in his eyes! He was of a
race that had once been lords on the shores of the salt
lake, and his wishes had led him back to a people who dwelt
about the graves of his fathers. Why should not such a
predilection be encouraged! That she was of a blood purer
and richer than the rest of her nation, any eye might have
seen; that she was equal to the dangers and daring of a life
in the woods, her conduct had proved; and now, they added,
the "wise one of the earth" had transplanted her to a place
where she would find congenial spirits, and might be forever
happy.
Then, with another transition in voice and subject,
allusions were made to the virgin who wept in the adjacent
lodge. They compared her to flakes of snow; as pure, as
white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in the fierce
heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of winter. They
doubted not that she was lovely in the eyes of the young
chief, whose skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own;
but though far from expressing such a preference, it was
evident they deemed her less excellent than the maid they
mourned. Still they denied her no need her rare charms
might properly claim. Her ringlets were compared to the
exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of
heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing flush
of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive than her
bloom.
During these and similar songs nothing was audible but the
murmurs of the music; relieved, as it was, or rather
rendered terrible, by those occasional bursts of grief which
might be called its choruses. The Delawares themselves
listened like charmed men; and it was very apparent, by the
variations of their speaking countenances, how deep and true
was their sympathy. Even David was not reluctant to lend
his ears to the tones of voices so sweet; and long ere the
chant was ended, his gaze announced that his soul was
enthralled.
The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the words
were intelligible, suffered himself to be a little aroused
from his meditative posture, and bent his face aside, to
catch their meaning, as the girls proceeded. But when they
spoke of the future prospects of Cora and Uncas, he shook
his head, like one who knew the error of their simple creed,
and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it until
the ceremony, if that might be called a ceremony, in which
feeling was so deeply imbued, was finished. Happily for the
self-command of both Heyward and Munro, they knew not the
meaning of the wild sounds they heard.
Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest
manifested by the native part of the audience. His look
never changed throughout the whole of the scene, nor did a
muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at the wildest or
the most pathetic parts of the lamentation. The cold and
senseless remains of his son was all to him, and every other
sense but that of sight seemed frozen, in order that his
eyes might take their final gaze at those lineaments he had
so long loved, and which were now about to be closed forever
from his view.
In this stage of the obsequies, a warrior much renowned for
deed in arms, and more especially for services in the recent
combat, a man of stern and grave demeanor, advanced slowly
from the crowd, and placed himself nigh the person of the
dead.
"Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki?" he said,
addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the
empty clay retained the faculties of the animated man; "thy
time has been like that of the sun when in the trees; thy
glory brighter than his light at noonday. Thou art gone,
youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the
briers from thy path to the world of the spirits. Who that
saw thee in battle would believe that thou couldst die? Who
before thee has ever shown Uttawa the way into the fight?
Thy feet were like the wings of eagles; thine arm heavier
than falling branches from the pine; and thy voice like the
Manitou when He speaks in the clouds. The tongue of Uttawa
is weak," he added, looking about him with a melancholy
gaze, "and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the
Wapanachki, why hast thou left us?"
He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the
high and gifted men of the nation had sung or spoken their
tribute of praise over the manes of the deceased chief.
When each had ended, another deep and breathing silence
reigned in all the place.
Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed
accompaniment of distant music, rising just high enough on
the air to be audible, and yet so indistinctly, as to leave
its character, and the place whence it proceeded, alike
matters of conjecture. It was, however, succeeded by
another and another strain, each in a higher key, until they
grew on the ear, first in long drawn and often repeated
interjections, and finally in words. The lips of
Chingachgook had so far parted, as to announce that it was
the monody of the father. Though not an eye was turned
toward him nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it
was apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated
their heads to listen, that they drank in the sounds with an
intenseness of attention, that none but Tamenund himself had
ever before commanded. But they listened in vain. The
strains rose just so loud as to become intelligible, and
then grew fainter and more trembling, until they finally
sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of
wind. The lips of the Sagamore closed, and he remained
silent in his seat, looking with his riveted eye and
motionless form, like some creature that had been turned
from the Almighty hand with the form but without the spirit
of a man. The Delawares who knew by these symptoms that the
mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an
effort of fortitude, relaxed in their attention; and, with
an innate delicacy, seemed to bestow all their thoughts on
the obsequies of the stranger maiden.
A signal was given, by one of the elder chiefs, to the women
who crowded that part of the circle near which the body of
Cora lay. Obedient to the sign, the girls raised the bier
to the elevation of their heads, and advanced with slow and
regulated steps, chanting, as they proceeded, another
wailing song in praise of the deceased. Gamut, who had been
a close observer of rites he deemed so heathenish, now bent
his head over the shoulder of the unconscious father,
whispering:
"They move with the remains of thy child; shall we not
follow, and see them interred with Christian burial?"
Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded in his
ear, and bestowing one anxious and hurried glance around
him, he arose and followed in the simple train, with the
mien of a soldier, but bearing the full burden of a parent's
suffering. His friends pressed around him with a sorrow
that was too strong to be termed sympathy -- even the young
Frenchman joining in the procession, with the air of a man
who was sensibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of
one so lovely. But when the last and humblest female of the
tribe had joined in the wild and yet ordered array, the men
of the Lenape contracted their circle, and formed again
around the person of Uncas, as silent, as grave, and as
motionless as before.
The place which had been chosen for the grave of Cora was a
little knoll, where a cluster of young and healthful pines
had taken root, forming of themselves a melancholy and
appropriate shade over the spot. On reaching it the girls
deposited their burden, and continued for many minutes
waiting, with characteristic patience, and native timidity,
for some evidence that they whose feelings were most
concerned were content with the arrangement. At length the
scout, who alone understood their habits, said, in their own
language:
"My daughters have done well; the white men thank them."
Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls
proceeded to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously, and
not inelegantly, fabricated of the bark of the birch; after
which they lowered it into its dark and final abode. The
ceremony of covering the remains, and concealing the marks
of the fresh earth, by leaves and other natural and
customary objects, was conducted with the same simple and
silent forms. But when the labors of the kind beings who
had performed these sad and friendly offices were so far
completed, they hesitated, in a way to show that they knew
not how much further they might proceed. It was in this
stage of the rites that the scout again addressed them:
"My young women have done enough," he said: "the spirit of
the pale face has no need of food or raiment, their gifts
being according to the heaven of their color. I see," he
added, glancing an eye at David, who was preparing his book
in a manner that indicated an intention to lead the way in
sacred song, "that one who better knows the Christian
fashions is about to speak."
The females stood modestly aside, and, from having been the
principal actors in the scene, they now became the meek and
attentive observers of that which followed. During the time
David occupied in pouring out the pious feelings of his
spirit in this manner, not a sign of surprise, nor a look of
impatience, escaped them. They listened like those who knew
the meaning of the strange words, and appeared as if they
felt the mingled emotions of sorrow, hope, and resignation,
they were intended to convey.
Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and perhaps
influenced by his own secret emotions, the master of song
exceeded his usual efforts. His full rich voice was not
found to suffer by a comparison with the soft tones of the
girls; and his more modulated strains possessed, at least
for the ears of those to whom they were peculiarly
addressed, the additional power of intelligence. He ended
the anthem, as he had commenced it, in the midst of a grave
and solemn stillness.
When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the ears of
his auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the eyes, and
the general and yet subdued movement of the assemblage,
betrayed that something was expected from the father of the
deceased. Munro seemed sensible that the time was come for
him to exert what is, perhaps, the greatest effort of which
human nature is capable. He bared his gray locks, and
looked around the timid and quiet throng by which he was
encircled, with a firm and collected countenance. Then,
motioning with his hand for the scout to listen, he said:
"Say to these kind and gentle females, that a heart-broken
and failing man returns them his thanks. Tell them, that
the Being we all worship, under different names, will be
mindful of their charity; and that the time shall not be
distant when we may assemble around His throne without
distinction of sex, or rank, or color."
The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which the
veteran delivered these words, and shook his head slowly
when they were ended, as one who doubted their efficacy.
"To tell them this," he said, "would be to tell them that
the snows come not in the winter, or that the sun shines
fiercest when the trees are stripped of their leaves."
Then turning to the women, he made such a communication of
the other's gratitude as he deemed most suited to the
capacities of his listeners. The head of Munro had already
sunk upon his chest, and he was again fast relapsing into
melancholy, when the young Frenchman before named ventured
to touch him lightly on the elbow. As soon as he had gained
the attention of the mourning old man, he pointed toward a
group of young Indians, who approached with a light but
closely covered litter, and then pointed upward toward the
sun.
"I understand you, sir," returned Munro, with a voice of
forced firmness; "I understand you. It is the will of
Heaven, and I submit. Cora, my child! if the prayers of a
heart-broken father could avail thee now, how blessed
shouldst thou be! Come, gentlemen," he added, looking about
him with an air of lofty composure, though the anguish that
quivered in his faded countenance was far too powerful to be
concealed, "our duty here is ended; let us depart."
Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them from a spot
where, each instant, he felt his self-control was about to
desert him. While his companions were mounting, however, he
found time to press the hand of the scout, and to repeat the
terms of an engagement they had made to meet again within
the posts of the British army. Then, gladly throwing
himself into the saddle, he spurred his charger to the side
of the litter, whence low and stifled sobs alone announced
the presence of Alice. In this manner, the head of Munro
again drooping on his bosom, with Heyward and David
following in sorrowing silence, and attended by the aide of
Montcalm with his guard, all the white men, with the
exception of Hawkeye, passed from before the eyes of the
Delawares, and were buried in the vast forests of that
region.
But the tie which, through their common calamity, had united
the feelings of these simple dwellers in the woods with the
strangers who had thus transiently visited them, was not so
easily broken. Years passed away before the traditionary
tale of the white maiden, and of the young warrior of the
Mohicans ceased to beguile the long nights and tedious
marches, or to animate their youthful and brave with a
desire for vengeance. Neither were the secondary actors in
these momentous incidents forgotten. Through the medium of
the scout, who served for years afterward as a link between
them and civilized life, they learned, in answer to their
inquiries, that the "Gray Head" was speedily gathered to his
fathers -- borne down, as was erroneously believed, by his
military misfortunes; and that the "Open Hand" had conveyed
his surviving daughter far into the settlements of the pale
faces, where her tears had at last ceased to flow, and had
been succeeded by the bright smiles which were better suited
to her joyous nature.
But these were events of a time later than that which
concerns our tale. Deserted by all of his color, Hawkeye
returned to the spot where his sympathies led him, with a
force that no ideal bond of union could destroy. He was
just in time to catch a parting look of the features of
Uncas, whom the Delawares were already inclosing in his last
vestment of skins. They paused to permit the longing and
lingering gaze of the sturdy woodsman, and when it was
ended, the body was enveloped, never to be unclosed again.
Then came a procession like the other, and the whole nation
was collected about the temporary grave of the chief --
temporary, because it was proper that, at some future day,
his bones should rest among those of his own people.
The movement, like the feeling, had been simultaneous and
general. The same grave expression of grief, the same rigid
silence, and the same deference to the principal mourner,
were observed around the place of interment as have been
already described. The body was deposited in an attitude of
repose, facing the rising sun, with the implements of war
and of the chase at hand, in readiness for the final
journey. An opening was left in the shell, by which it was
protected from the soil, for the spirit to communicate with
its earthly tenement, when necessary; and the whole was
concealed from the instinct, and protected from the ravages
of the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to the
natives. The manual rites then ceased and all present
reverted to the more spiritual part of the ceremonies.
Chingachgook became once more the object of the common
attention. He had not yet spoken, and something consolatory
and instructive was expected from so renowned a chief on an
occasion of such interest. Conscious of the wishes of the
people, the stern and self-restrained warrior raised his
face, which had latterly been buried in his robe, and looked
about him with a steady eye. His firmly compressed and
expressive lips then severed, and for the first time during
the long ceremonies his voice was distinctly audible. "Why
do my brothers mourn?" he said, regarding the dark race of
dejected warriors by whom he was environed; "why do my
daughters weep? that a young man has gone to the happy
hunting-grounds; that a chief has filled his time with
honor? He was good; he was dutiful; he was brave. Who can
deny it? The Manitou had need of such a warrior, and He has
called him away. As for me, the son and the father of
Uncas, I am a blazed pine, in a clearing of the pale faces.
My race has gone from the shores of the salt lake and the
hills of the Delawares. But who can say that the serpent of
his tribe has forgotten his wisdom? I am alone --"
"No, no," cried Hawkeye, who had been gazing with a yearning
look at the rigid features of his friend, with something
like his own self-command, but whose philosophy could endure
no longer; "no, Sagamore, not alone. The gifts of our
colors may be different, but God has so placed us as to
journey in the same path. I have no kin, and I may also
say, like you, no people. He was your son, and a red-skin
by nature; and it may be that your blood was nearer -- but,
if ever I forget the lad who has so often fou't at my side
in war, and slept at my side in peace, may He who made us
all, whatever may be our color or our gifts, forget me! The
boy has left us for a time; but, Sagamore, you are not
alone."
Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the warmth of
feeling, the scout had stretched across the fresh earth, and
in an attitude of friendship these two sturdy and intrepid
woodsmen bowed their heads together, while scalding tears
fell to their feet, watering the grave of Uncas like drops
of falling rain.
In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst
of feeling, coming as it did, from the two most renowned
warriors of that region, was received, Tamenund lifted his
voice to disperse the multitude.
"It is enough," he said. "Go, children of the Lenape, the
anger of the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay?
The pale faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the
red men has not yet come again. My day has been too long.
In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong;
and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the
last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans."