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"Before these fields were shorn and tilled,
Full to the brim our rivers flowed;
The melody of waters filled
The fresh and boundless wood;
And torrents dashed, and rivulets played,
And fountains spouted in the shade."
BRYANT.
Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward and his confiding companions to
penetrate still deeper into a forest that contained such treacherous
inmates, we must use an author's privilege, and shift the scene a few
miles to the westward of the place where we have last seen them.
On that day, two men were lingering on the banks of a small but rapid
stream, within an hour's journey of the encampment of Webb, like those
who awaited the appearance of an absent person, or the approach of some
expected event. The vast canopy of woods spread itself to the margin of
the river overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a
deeper hue. The rays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and
the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the cooler vapors of the
springs and fountains rose above their leafy beds, and rested in the
atmosphere. Still that breathing silence, which marks the drowsy
sultriness of an American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot,
interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the occasional and lazy
tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry of some gaudy jay, or a swelling
on the ear, from the dull roar of a distant waterfall.
These feeble and broken sounds were, however, too familiar to the
foresters, to draw their attention from the more interesting matter of
their dialogue. While one of these loiterers showed the red skin and
wild accoutrements of a native of the woods, the other exhibited,
through the mask of his rude and nearly savage equipments, the brighter,
though sunburnt and long-faded complexion of one who might claim descent
from a European parentage. The former was seated on the end of a mossy
log, in a posture that permitted him to heighten the effect of his
earnest language, by the calm but expressive gestures of an Indian
engaged in debate. His body, which was nearly naked, presented a
terrific emblem of death, drawn in intermingled colors of white and
black. His closely shaved head, on which no other hair than the well
known and chivalrous scalping tuft[5] was preserved, was without
ornament of any kind, with the exception of a solitary eagle's plume,
that crossed his crown, and depended over the left shoulder. A tomahawk
and scalping-knife, of English manufacture, were in his girdle; while a
short military rifle, of that sort with which the policy of the whites
armed their savage allies, lay carelessly across his bare and sinewy
knee. The expanded chest, full formed limbs, and grave countenance of
this warrior, would denote that he had reached the vigor of his days,
though no symptoms of decay appeared to have yet weakened his manhood.
The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were not concealed
by his clothes, was like that of one who had known hardships and
exertion from his earliest youth. His person, though muscular, was
rather attenuated than full; but every nerve and muscle appeared strung
and indurated by unremitted exposure and toil. He wore a hunting-shirt
of forest green, fringed with faded yellow[6], and a summer cap of skins
which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore a knife in a girdle of
wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments of the Indian, but
no tomahawk. His moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the
natives, while the only part of his under-dress which appeared below the
hunting-frock, was a pair of buckskin leggings, that laced at the sides,
and which were gartered above the knees with the sinews of a deer. A
pouch and horn completed his personal accoutrements, though a rifle of
great length[7], which the theory of the more ingenious whites had
taught them was the most dangerous of all fire-arms, leaned against a
neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might
be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on
every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden
approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the symptoms of habitual
suspicion, his countenance was not only without guile, but at the moment
at which he is introduced, it was charged with an expression of sturdy
honesty.
"Even your traditions make the case in my favor, Chingachgook," he said,
speaking in the tongue which was known to all the natives who formerly
inhabited the country between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of which
we shall give a free translation for the benefit of the reader;
endeavoring, at the same time, to preserve some of the peculiarities,
both of the individual and of the language. "Your fathers came from the
setting sun, crossed the big river,[8] fought the people of the country,
and took the land; and mine came from the red sky of the morning, over
the salt lake, and did their work much after the fashion that had been
set them by yours; then let God judge the matter between us, and friends
spare their words!"
"My fathers fought with the naked redmen!" returned the Indian sternly,
in the same language. "Is there no difference, Hawkeye, between the
stone-headed arrow of the warrior, and the leaden bullet with which you
kill?"
"There is reason in an Indian, though nature has made him with a red
skin!" said the white man, shaking his head like one on whom such an
appeal to his justice was not thrown away. For a moment he appeared to
be conscious of having the worst of the argument, then, rallying again,
he answered the objection of his antagonist in the best manner his
limited information would allow: "I am no scholar, and I care not who
knows it; but judging from what I have seen, at deer chases and squirrel
hunts, of the sparks below, I should think a rifle in the hands of their
grandfathers was not so dangerous as a hickory bow and a good flint-head
might be, if drawn with Indian judgment, and sent by an Indian eye."
"You have the story told by your fathers," returned the other, coldly
waving his hand. "What say your old men? do they tell the young
warriors, that the pale-faces met the redmen, painted for war and armed
with the stone hatchet and wooden gun?"
"I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts himself on his natural
privileges, though the worst enemy I have on earth, and he is an
Iroquois, daren't deny that I am genuine white," the scout replied,
surveying, with secret satisfaction, the faded color of his bony and
sinewy hand; "and I am willing to own that my people have many ways, of
which, as an honest man, I can't approve. It is one of their customs to
write in books what they have done and seen, instead of telling them in
their villages, where the lie can be given to the face of a cowardly
boaster, and the brave soldier can call on his comrades to witness for
the truth of his words. In consequence of this bad fashion, a man who is
too conscientious to misspend his days among the women, in learning the
names of black marks, may never hear of the deeds of his fathers, nor
feel a pride in striving to outdo them. For myself, I conclude the
Bumppos could shoot, for I have a natural turn with a rifle, which must
have been handed down from generation to generation, as, our holy
commandments tell us, all good and evil gifts are bestowed; though I
should be loth to answer for other people in such a matter. But every
story has its two sides; so I ask you, Chingachgook, what passed,
according to the traditions of the redmen, when our fathers first met?"
A silence of a minute succeeded, during which the Indian sat mute; then,
full of the dignity of his office, he commenced his brief tale, with a
solemnity that served to heighten its appearance of truth.
"Listen, Hawkeye, and your ear shall drink no lie. 'Tis what my fathers
have said, and what the Mohicans have done." He hesitated a single
instant, and bending a cautious glance toward his companion, he
continued, in a manner that was divided between interrogation and
assertion, "Does not this stream at our feet run towards the summer,
until its waters grow salt, and the current flows upward?"
"It can't be denied that your traditions tell you true in both these
matters," said the white man; "for I have been there, and have seen
them; though, why water, which is so sweet in the shade, should become
bitter in the sun, is an alteration for which I have never been able to
account."
"And the current!" demanded the Indian, who expected his reply with that
sort of interest that a man feels in the confirmation of testimony, at
which he marvels even while he respects it; "the fathers of Chingachgook
have not lied!"
"The Holy Bible is not more true, and that is the truest thing in
nature. They call this up-stream current the tide, which is a thing soon
explained, and clear enough. Six hours the waters run in, and six hours
they run out, and the reason is this: when there is higher water in the
sea than in the river, they run in, until the river gets to be highest,
and then it runs out again."
"The waters in the woods, and on the great lakes, run downward until
they lie like my hand," said the Indian, stretching the limb
horizontally before him, "and then they run no more."
"No honest man will deny it," said the scout, a little nettled at the
implied distrust of his explanation of the mystery of the tides; "and I
grant that it is true on the small scale, and where the land is level.
But everything depends on what scale you look at things. Now, on the
small scale, the 'arth is level; but on the large scale it is round. In
this manner, pools and ponds, and even the great fresh-water lake, may
be stagnant, as you and I both know they are, having seen them; but when
you come to spread water over a great tract, like the sea, where the
earth is round, how in reason can the water be quiet? You might as well
expect the river to lie still on the brink of those black rocks a mile
above us, though your own ears tell you that it is tumbling over them at
this very moment!"
If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, the Indian was far
too dignified to betray his unbelief. He listened like one who was
convinced, and resumed his narrative in his former solemn manner.
"We came from the place where the sun is hid at night, over great plains
where the buffaloes live, until we reached the big river. There we
fought the Alligewi, till the ground was red with their blood. From the
banks of the big river to the shores of the salt lake, there was none to
meet us. The Maquas followed at a distance. We said the country should
be ours from the place where the water runs up no longer on this stream,
to a river twenty suns' journey toward the summer. The land we had taken
like warriors, we kept like men. We drove the Maquas into the woods with
the bears. They only tasted salt at the licks; they drew no fish from
the great lake; we threw them the bones."
"All this I have heard and believe," said the white man, observing that
the Indian paused: "but it was long before the English came into the
country."
"A pine grew then where this chestnut now stands. The first pale-faces
who came among us spoke no English. They came in a large canoe, when my
fathers had buried the tomahawk with the redmen around them. Then,
Hawkeye," he continued, betraying his deep emotion only by permitting
his voice to fall to those low, guttural tones, which rendered his
language, as spoken at times, so very musical; "then, Hawkeye, we were
one people, and we were happy. The salt lake gave us its fish, the wood
its deer, and the air its birds. We took wives who bore us children; we
worshipped the Great Spirit; and we kept the Maquas beyond the sound of
our songs of triumph!"
"Know you anything of your own family at that time?" demanded the white.
"But you are a just man, for an Indian! and, as I suppose you hold their
gifts, your fathers must have been brave warriors, and wise men at the
council fire."
"My tribe is the grandfather of nations, but I am an unmixed man. The
blood of chiefs is in my veins, where it must stay forever. The Dutch
landed, and gave my people the fire-water; they drank until the heavens
and the earth seemed to meet, and they foolishly thought they had found
the Great Spirit. Then they parted with their land. Foot by foot, they
were driven back from the shores, until I, that am a chief and a
sagamore, have never seen the sun shine but through the trees, and have
never visited the graves of, my fathers!"
"Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind," returned the scout, a good
deal touched at the calm suffering of his companion; "and they often aid
a man in his good intentions; though, for myself, I expect to leave my
own bones unburied, to bleach in the woods, or to be torn asunder by the
wolves. But where are to be found those of your race who came to their
kin in the Delaware country, so many summers since?"
"Where are the blossoms of those summers!--fallen, one by one: so all of
my family departed, each in his turn, to the land of spirits. I am on
the hill-top, and must go down into the valley; and when Uncas follows
in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the blood of the
sagamores, for my boy is the last of the Mohicans."
"Uncas is here!" said another voice, in the same soft, guttural tones,
near his elbow; "who speaks to Uncas?"
The white man loosened his knife in his leathern sheath, and made an
involuntary movement of the hand towards his rifle, at this sudden
interruption; but the Indian sat composed, and without turning his head
at the unexpected sounds.
At the next instant, a youthful warrior passed between them, with a
noiseless step, and seated himself on the bank of the rapid stream. No
exclamation of surprise escaped the father, nor was any question asked,
or reply given, for several minutes; each appearing to await the moment
when he might speak, without betraying womanish curiosity or childish
impatience. The white man seemed to take counsel from their customs,
and, relinquishing his grasp of the rifle, he also remained silent and
reserved. At length Chingachgook turned his eyes slowly towards his son,
and demanded,--
"Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moccasins in these
woods?"
"I have been on their trail," replied the young Indian, "and know that
they number as many as the fingers of my two hands; but they lie hid,
like cowards."
"The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder!" said the white man,
whom we shall call Hawkeye, after the manner of his companions. "That
bushy Frenchman, Montcalm, will send his spies into our very camp, but
he will know what road we travel!"
"Tis enough!" returned the father, glancing his eye towards the setting
sun; "they shall be driven like deer from their bushes. Hawkeye, let us
eat to-night, and show the Maquas that we are men to-morrow."
"I am as ready to do the one as the other; but to fight the Iroquois
'tis necessary to find the skulkers; and to eat, 'tis necessary to get
the game--talk of the devil and he will come; there is a pair of the
biggest antlers I have seen this season, moving the bushes below the
hill! Now, Uncas," he continued in a half whisper, and laughing with a
kind of inward sound, like one who had learnt to be watchful, "I will
bet my charger three times full of powder, against a foot of wampum,
that I take him atwixt the eyes, and nearer to the right than to the
left."
"It cannot be!" said the young Indian, springing to his feet with
youthful eagerness; "all but the tips of his horns are hid!"
"He's a boy!" said the white man, shaking his head while he spoke, and
addressing the father. "Does he think when a hunter sees a part of the
creatur', he can't tell where the rest of him should be!"
[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_
UNCAS SLAYS A DEER
_Avoiding the horns of the infuriated animal, Uncas darted to his side,
and passed his knife across the throat_]
Adjusting his rifle, he was about to make an exhibition of that skill,
on which he so much valued himself, when the warrior struck up the piece
with his hand, saying--
"Hawkeye! will you fight the Maquas?"
"These Indians know the nature of the woods, as it might be by
instinct!" returned the scout, dropping his rifle, and turning away like
a man who was convinced of his error. "I must leave the buck to your
arrow, Uncas, or we may kill a deer for them thieves, the Iroquois, to
eat."
The instant the father seconded this intimation by an expressive gesture
of the hand, Uncas threw himself on the ground, and approached the
animal with wary movements. When within a few yards of the cover, he
fitted an arrow to his bow with the utmost care, while the antlers
moved, as if their owner snuffed an enemy in the tainted air. In another
moment the twang of the cord was heard, a white streak was seen glancing
into the bushes, and the wounded buck plunged from the cover, to the
very feet of his hidden enemy. Avoiding the horns of the infuriated
animal, Uncas darted to his side, and passed his knife across the
throat, when bounding to the edge of the river it fell, dyeing the
waters with its blood.
"'Twas done with Indian skill," said the scout, laughing inwardly, but
with vast satisfaction; "and 'twas a pretty sight to behold! Though an
arrow is a near shot, and needs a knife to finish the work."
"Hugh!" ejaculated his companion, turning quickly, like a hound who
scented game.
"By the Lord, there is a drove of them!" exclaimed the scout, whose eyes
began to glisten with the ardor of his usual occupation; "if they come
within range of a bullet I will drop one, though the whole Six Nations
should be lurking within sound! What do you hear, Chingachgook? for to
my ears the woods are dumb."
"There is but one deer, and he is dead," said the Indian, bending his
body till his ear nearly touched the earth. "I hear the sounds of feet!"
"Perhaps the wolves have driven the buck to shelter, and are following
on his trail."
"No. The horses of white men are coming!" returned the other, raising
himself with dignity, and resuming his seat on the log with his former
composure. "Hawkeye, they are your brothers; speak to them."
"That will I, and in English that the king needn't be ashamed to
answer," returned the hunter, speaking in the language of which he
boasted; "but I see nothing, nor do I hear the sounds of man or beast;
'tis strange that an Indian should understand white sounds better than a
man who, his very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood, although
he may have lived with the redskins long enough to be suspected! Ha!
there goes something like the cracking of a dry stick, too--now I hear
the bushes move--yes, yes, there is a trampling that I mistook for the
falls--and--but here they come themselves; God keep them from the
Iroquois!"
| In another part of the forest by the river a few miles to the west, Hawkeye and Chingachgook appear to be waiting for someone as they talk with low voices. It is now afternoon. The Indian and the scout are attired according to their forest habits: Chingachgook with his semi-nude, war-painted body and scalping tuft of hair, his tomahawk, scalping knife, and short rifle; Hawkeye with his hunting shirt, skin cap, buckskin leggings, knife, pouch and horn, and long rifle. They discuss their respective forefathers, and Chingachgook relates the slow demise of his tribe of Mohicans so that only he and his son Uncas now remain. At the mention of his name, Uncas, a youthful warrior dressed much like Hawkeye, appears and says that he has been on the trail of the Maquas, another name for the Mengwe or Iroquois, their natural enemies. The antlers of a deer are seen in the distance, and Hawkeye is about to shoot the animal for food when the warrior warns him that a shot will warn the enemy. Just as Uncas kills it with an arrow, they hear the sounds of feet which Chingachgook recognizes as the horses of white men. | summary |
"Before these fields were shorn and tilled,
Full to the brim our rivers flowed;
The melody of waters filled
The fresh and boundless wood;
And torrents dashed, and rivulets played,
And fountains spouted in the shade."
BRYANT.
Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward and his confiding companions to
penetrate still deeper into a forest that contained such treacherous
inmates, we must use an author's privilege, and shift the scene a few
miles to the westward of the place where we have last seen them.
On that day, two men were lingering on the banks of a small but rapid
stream, within an hour's journey of the encampment of Webb, like those
who awaited the appearance of an absent person, or the approach of some
expected event. The vast canopy of woods spread itself to the margin of
the river overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a
deeper hue. The rays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and
the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the cooler vapors of the
springs and fountains rose above their leafy beds, and rested in the
atmosphere. Still that breathing silence, which marks the drowsy
sultriness of an American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot,
interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the occasional and lazy
tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry of some gaudy jay, or a swelling
on the ear, from the dull roar of a distant waterfall.
These feeble and broken sounds were, however, too familiar to the
foresters, to draw their attention from the more interesting matter of
their dialogue. While one of these loiterers showed the red skin and
wild accoutrements of a native of the woods, the other exhibited,
through the mask of his rude and nearly savage equipments, the brighter,
though sunburnt and long-faded complexion of one who might claim descent
from a European parentage. The former was seated on the end of a mossy
log, in a posture that permitted him to heighten the effect of his
earnest language, by the calm but expressive gestures of an Indian
engaged in debate. His body, which was nearly naked, presented a
terrific emblem of death, drawn in intermingled colors of white and
black. His closely shaved head, on which no other hair than the well
known and chivalrous scalping tuft[5] was preserved, was without
ornament of any kind, with the exception of a solitary eagle's plume,
that crossed his crown, and depended over the left shoulder. A tomahawk
and scalping-knife, of English manufacture, were in his girdle; while a
short military rifle, of that sort with which the policy of the whites
armed their savage allies, lay carelessly across his bare and sinewy
knee. The expanded chest, full formed limbs, and grave countenance of
this warrior, would denote that he had reached the vigor of his days,
though no symptoms of decay appeared to have yet weakened his manhood.
The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were not concealed
by his clothes, was like that of one who had known hardships and
exertion from his earliest youth. His person, though muscular, was
rather attenuated than full; but every nerve and muscle appeared strung
and indurated by unremitted exposure and toil. He wore a hunting-shirt
of forest green, fringed with faded yellow[6], and a summer cap of skins
which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore a knife in a girdle of
wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments of the Indian, but
no tomahawk. His moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the
natives, while the only part of his under-dress which appeared below the
hunting-frock, was a pair of buckskin leggings, that laced at the sides,
and which were gartered above the knees with the sinews of a deer. A
pouch and horn completed his personal accoutrements, though a rifle of
great length[7], which the theory of the more ingenious whites had
taught them was the most dangerous of all fire-arms, leaned against a
neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might
be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on
every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden
approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the symptoms of habitual
suspicion, his countenance was not only without guile, but at the moment
at which he is introduced, it was charged with an expression of sturdy
honesty.
"Even your traditions make the case in my favor, Chingachgook," he said,
speaking in the tongue which was known to all the natives who formerly
inhabited the country between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of which
we shall give a free translation for the benefit of the reader;
endeavoring, at the same time, to preserve some of the peculiarities,
both of the individual and of the language. "Your fathers came from the
setting sun, crossed the big river,[8] fought the people of the country,
and took the land; and mine came from the red sky of the morning, over
the salt lake, and did their work much after the fashion that had been
set them by yours; then let God judge the matter between us, and friends
spare their words!"
"My fathers fought with the naked redmen!" returned the Indian sternly,
in the same language. "Is there no difference, Hawkeye, between the
stone-headed arrow of the warrior, and the leaden bullet with which you
kill?"
"There is reason in an Indian, though nature has made him with a red
skin!" said the white man, shaking his head like one on whom such an
appeal to his justice was not thrown away. For a moment he appeared to
be conscious of having the worst of the argument, then, rallying again,
he answered the objection of his antagonist in the best manner his
limited information would allow: "I am no scholar, and I care not who
knows it; but judging from what I have seen, at deer chases and squirrel
hunts, of the sparks below, I should think a rifle in the hands of their
grandfathers was not so dangerous as a hickory bow and a good flint-head
might be, if drawn with Indian judgment, and sent by an Indian eye."
"You have the story told by your fathers," returned the other, coldly
waving his hand. "What say your old men? do they tell the young
warriors, that the pale-faces met the redmen, painted for war and armed
with the stone hatchet and wooden gun?"
"I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts himself on his natural
privileges, though the worst enemy I have on earth, and he is an
Iroquois, daren't deny that I am genuine white," the scout replied,
surveying, with secret satisfaction, the faded color of his bony and
sinewy hand; "and I am willing to own that my people have many ways, of
which, as an honest man, I can't approve. It is one of their customs to
write in books what they have done and seen, instead of telling them in
their villages, where the lie can be given to the face of a cowardly
boaster, and the brave soldier can call on his comrades to witness for
the truth of his words. In consequence of this bad fashion, a man who is
too conscientious to misspend his days among the women, in learning the
names of black marks, may never hear of the deeds of his fathers, nor
feel a pride in striving to outdo them. For myself, I conclude the
Bumppos could shoot, for I have a natural turn with a rifle, which must
have been handed down from generation to generation, as, our holy
commandments tell us, all good and evil gifts are bestowed; though I
should be loth to answer for other people in such a matter. But every
story has its two sides; so I ask you, Chingachgook, what passed,
according to the traditions of the redmen, when our fathers first met?"
A silence of a minute succeeded, during which the Indian sat mute; then,
full of the dignity of his office, he commenced his brief tale, with a
solemnity that served to heighten its appearance of truth.
"Listen, Hawkeye, and your ear shall drink no lie. 'Tis what my fathers
have said, and what the Mohicans have done." He hesitated a single
instant, and bending a cautious glance toward his companion, he
continued, in a manner that was divided between interrogation and
assertion, "Does not this stream at our feet run towards the summer,
until its waters grow salt, and the current flows upward?"
"It can't be denied that your traditions tell you true in both these
matters," said the white man; "for I have been there, and have seen
them; though, why water, which is so sweet in the shade, should become
bitter in the sun, is an alteration for which I have never been able to
account."
"And the current!" demanded the Indian, who expected his reply with that
sort of interest that a man feels in the confirmation of testimony, at
which he marvels even while he respects it; "the fathers of Chingachgook
have not lied!"
"The Holy Bible is not more true, and that is the truest thing in
nature. They call this up-stream current the tide, which is a thing soon
explained, and clear enough. Six hours the waters run in, and six hours
they run out, and the reason is this: when there is higher water in the
sea than in the river, they run in, until the river gets to be highest,
and then it runs out again."
"The waters in the woods, and on the great lakes, run downward until
they lie like my hand," said the Indian, stretching the limb
horizontally before him, "and then they run no more."
"No honest man will deny it," said the scout, a little nettled at the
implied distrust of his explanation of the mystery of the tides; "and I
grant that it is true on the small scale, and where the land is level.
But everything depends on what scale you look at things. Now, on the
small scale, the 'arth is level; but on the large scale it is round. In
this manner, pools and ponds, and even the great fresh-water lake, may
be stagnant, as you and I both know they are, having seen them; but when
you come to spread water over a great tract, like the sea, where the
earth is round, how in reason can the water be quiet? You might as well
expect the river to lie still on the brink of those black rocks a mile
above us, though your own ears tell you that it is tumbling over them at
this very moment!"
If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, the Indian was far
too dignified to betray his unbelief. He listened like one who was
convinced, and resumed his narrative in his former solemn manner.
"We came from the place where the sun is hid at night, over great plains
where the buffaloes live, until we reached the big river. There we
fought the Alligewi, till the ground was red with their blood. From the
banks of the big river to the shores of the salt lake, there was none to
meet us. The Maquas followed at a distance. We said the country should
be ours from the place where the water runs up no longer on this stream,
to a river twenty suns' journey toward the summer. The land we had taken
like warriors, we kept like men. We drove the Maquas into the woods with
the bears. They only tasted salt at the licks; they drew no fish from
the great lake; we threw them the bones."
"All this I have heard and believe," said the white man, observing that
the Indian paused: "but it was long before the English came into the
country."
"A pine grew then where this chestnut now stands. The first pale-faces
who came among us spoke no English. They came in a large canoe, when my
fathers had buried the tomahawk with the redmen around them. Then,
Hawkeye," he continued, betraying his deep emotion only by permitting
his voice to fall to those low, guttural tones, which rendered his
language, as spoken at times, so very musical; "then, Hawkeye, we were
one people, and we were happy. The salt lake gave us its fish, the wood
its deer, and the air its birds. We took wives who bore us children; we
worshipped the Great Spirit; and we kept the Maquas beyond the sound of
our songs of triumph!"
"Know you anything of your own family at that time?" demanded the white.
"But you are a just man, for an Indian! and, as I suppose you hold their
gifts, your fathers must have been brave warriors, and wise men at the
council fire."
"My tribe is the grandfather of nations, but I am an unmixed man. The
blood of chiefs is in my veins, where it must stay forever. The Dutch
landed, and gave my people the fire-water; they drank until the heavens
and the earth seemed to meet, and they foolishly thought they had found
the Great Spirit. Then they parted with their land. Foot by foot, they
were driven back from the shores, until I, that am a chief and a
sagamore, have never seen the sun shine but through the trees, and have
never visited the graves of, my fathers!"
"Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind," returned the scout, a good
deal touched at the calm suffering of his companion; "and they often aid
a man in his good intentions; though, for myself, I expect to leave my
own bones unburied, to bleach in the woods, or to be torn asunder by the
wolves. But where are to be found those of your race who came to their
kin in the Delaware country, so many summers since?"
"Where are the blossoms of those summers!--fallen, one by one: so all of
my family departed, each in his turn, to the land of spirits. I am on
the hill-top, and must go down into the valley; and when Uncas follows
in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the blood of the
sagamores, for my boy is the last of the Mohicans."
"Uncas is here!" said another voice, in the same soft, guttural tones,
near his elbow; "who speaks to Uncas?"
The white man loosened his knife in his leathern sheath, and made an
involuntary movement of the hand towards his rifle, at this sudden
interruption; but the Indian sat composed, and without turning his head
at the unexpected sounds.
At the next instant, a youthful warrior passed between them, with a
noiseless step, and seated himself on the bank of the rapid stream. No
exclamation of surprise escaped the father, nor was any question asked,
or reply given, for several minutes; each appearing to await the moment
when he might speak, without betraying womanish curiosity or childish
impatience. The white man seemed to take counsel from their customs,
and, relinquishing his grasp of the rifle, he also remained silent and
reserved. At length Chingachgook turned his eyes slowly towards his son,
and demanded,--
"Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moccasins in these
woods?"
"I have been on their trail," replied the young Indian, "and know that
they number as many as the fingers of my two hands; but they lie hid,
like cowards."
"The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder!" said the white man,
whom we shall call Hawkeye, after the manner of his companions. "That
bushy Frenchman, Montcalm, will send his spies into our very camp, but
he will know what road we travel!"
"Tis enough!" returned the father, glancing his eye towards the setting
sun; "they shall be driven like deer from their bushes. Hawkeye, let us
eat to-night, and show the Maquas that we are men to-morrow."
"I am as ready to do the one as the other; but to fight the Iroquois
'tis necessary to find the skulkers; and to eat, 'tis necessary to get
the game--talk of the devil and he will come; there is a pair of the
biggest antlers I have seen this season, moving the bushes below the
hill! Now, Uncas," he continued in a half whisper, and laughing with a
kind of inward sound, like one who had learnt to be watchful, "I will
bet my charger three times full of powder, against a foot of wampum,
that I take him atwixt the eyes, and nearer to the right than to the
left."
"It cannot be!" said the young Indian, springing to his feet with
youthful eagerness; "all but the tips of his horns are hid!"
"He's a boy!" said the white man, shaking his head while he spoke, and
addressing the father. "Does he think when a hunter sees a part of the
creatur', he can't tell where the rest of him should be!"
[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_
UNCAS SLAYS A DEER
_Avoiding the horns of the infuriated animal, Uncas darted to his side,
and passed his knife across the throat_]
Adjusting his rifle, he was about to make an exhibition of that skill,
on which he so much valued himself, when the warrior struck up the piece
with his hand, saying--
"Hawkeye! will you fight the Maquas?"
"These Indians know the nature of the woods, as it might be by
instinct!" returned the scout, dropping his rifle, and turning away like
a man who was convinced of his error. "I must leave the buck to your
arrow, Uncas, or we may kill a deer for them thieves, the Iroquois, to
eat."
The instant the father seconded this intimation by an expressive gesture
of the hand, Uncas threw himself on the ground, and approached the
animal with wary movements. When within a few yards of the cover, he
fitted an arrow to his bow with the utmost care, while the antlers
moved, as if their owner snuffed an enemy in the tainted air. In another
moment the twang of the cord was heard, a white streak was seen glancing
into the bushes, and the wounded buck plunged from the cover, to the
very feet of his hidden enemy. Avoiding the horns of the infuriated
animal, Uncas darted to his side, and passed his knife across the
throat, when bounding to the edge of the river it fell, dyeing the
waters with its blood.
"'Twas done with Indian skill," said the scout, laughing inwardly, but
with vast satisfaction; "and 'twas a pretty sight to behold! Though an
arrow is a near shot, and needs a knife to finish the work."
"Hugh!" ejaculated his companion, turning quickly, like a hound who
scented game.
"By the Lord, there is a drove of them!" exclaimed the scout, whose eyes
began to glisten with the ardor of his usual occupation; "if they come
within range of a bullet I will drop one, though the whole Six Nations
should be lurking within sound! What do you hear, Chingachgook? for to
my ears the woods are dumb."
"There is but one deer, and he is dead," said the Indian, bending his
body till his ear nearly touched the earth. "I hear the sounds of feet!"
"Perhaps the wolves have driven the buck to shelter, and are following
on his trail."
"No. The horses of white men are coming!" returned the other, raising
himself with dignity, and resuming his seat on the log with his former
composure. "Hawkeye, they are your brothers; speak to them."
"That will I, and in English that the king needn't be ashamed to
answer," returned the hunter, speaking in the language of which he
boasted; "but I see nothing, nor do I hear the sounds of man or beast;
'tis strange that an Indian should understand white sounds better than a
man who, his very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood, although
he may have lived with the redskins long enough to be suspected! Ha!
there goes something like the cracking of a dry stick, too--now I hear
the bushes move--yes, yes, there is a trampling that I mistook for the
falls--and--but here they come themselves; God keep them from the
Iroquois!"
| This chapter introduces the other three main actors in the story. Through the talk of the scout and the senior Indian, the rightness of racial "gifts" is established. Their discussion of differences between currents and tides, between the large salt ocean and the smaller fresh lakes, reflects the novel's central motif of relativity as Hawkeye concludes that "'everything depends on what scale you look at things." Hawkeye's precipitant movement to shoot the deer at first makes his awareness of the forest dangers questionable, but the need for action is natural to this kind of man after idleness, and the incident shows his pride in handling his rifle. Such an incident makes this ideal frontiersman also human. By the end of this chapter, all the principal characters are introduced, with each one's general qualities established. They are about to be brought together to participate in the first long chase sequence. | analysis |
"Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury."
_Midsummer Night's Dream._
The words were still in the mouth of the scout, when the leader of the
party, whose approaching footsteps had caught the vigilant ear of the
Indian, came openly into view. A beaten path, such as those made by the
periodical passage of the deer, wound through a little glen at no great
distance, and struck the river at the point where the white man and his
red companions had posted themselves. Along this track the travellers,
who had produced a surprise so unusual in the depths of the forest,
advanced slowly towards the hunter, who was in front of his associates,
in readiness to receive them.
"Who comes?" demanded the scout, throwing his rifle carelessly across
his left arm, and keeping the forefinger of his right hand on the
trigger, though he avoided all appearance of menace in the act, "Who
comes hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"
"Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the king,"
returned he who rode foremost. "Men who have journeyed since the rising
sun, in the shades of this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly
tired of their wayfaring."
"You are, then, lost," interrupted the hunter, "and have found how
helpless 'tis not to know whether to take the right hand or the left?"
"Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide them
than we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess the
stature without the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to a post of
the crown called William Henry?"
"Hoot!" shouted the scout, who did not spare his open laughter, though,
instantly checking the dangerous sounds, he indulged his merriment at
less risk of being overheard by any lurking enemies. "You are as much
off the scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer!
William Henry, man! if you are friends to the king, and have business
with the army, your better way would be to follow the river down to
Edward, and lay the matter before Webb; who tarries there, instead of
pushing into the defiles, and driving this saucy Frenchman back across
Champlain, into his den again."
Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected proposition,
another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and leaped his charger into
the pathway, in front of his companion.
"What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?" demanded a new
speaker; "the place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and our
destination is the head of the lake."
"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way, for the
road across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a
path, I calculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the
palace of the king himself."
"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the passage," returned
Heyward, smiling; for, as the reader has anticipated, it was he. "It is
enough, for the present, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us
by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in his
knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are."
"An Indian lost in the woods!" said the scout, shaking his head
doubtingly; "when the sun is scorching the tree-tops, and the
water-courses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees, will tell
him in which quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods are
full of deer paths which run to the streams and licks, places well known
to everybody; nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters
altogether! 'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican
and the bend in the river. Is he a Mohawk?"
"Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace was
farther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron."
"Hugh!" exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who had continued,
until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable, and apparently
indifferent to what passed, but who now sprang to their feet with an
activity and interest that had evidently got the better of their
reserve, by surprise.
"A Huron!" repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his head in open
distrust; "they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they are
adopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds.
Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only
wonder that you have not fallen in with more."
"Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles in
our front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk,
and that he serves with our forces as a friend."
"And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo," returned
the other, positively. "A Mohawk! No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican
for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won't all do, having
suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women--but when
they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a
warrior!"
"Enough of this," said Heyward, impatiently; "I wish not to inquire into
the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be a stranger.
You have not yet answered my question: what is our distance from the
main army at Edward?"
"It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such a
horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and
sun-down."
"I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend," said Heyward,
curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a more gentle voice;
"if you will tell me the distance to Fort Edward, and conduct me
thither, your labor shall not go without its reward."
"And in so doing, how know I that I don't guide an enemy, and a spy of
Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak
the English tongue that is an honest subject."
"If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, you
should know of such a regiment of the king as the 60th."
"The 60th! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans that I don't
know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket."
"Well, then, among the other things, you may know the name of its
major?"
"Its major!" interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like one who was
proud of his trust. "If there is a man in the country who knows Major
Effingham, he stands before you."
"It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you name is the
senior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the
companies in garrison at William Henry."
"Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from one
of the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to
hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to
bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant
gentleman!"
"Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his rank, he now
speaks to you, and of course can be no enemy to dread."
The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his cap, he
answered, in a tone less confident than before, though still expressing
doubt,--
"I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this morning, for the
lake shore."
"You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting to
the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."
"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"
"Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is to be found
in the rear."
"I should like to look at the creatur'; if it is a true Iroquois I can
tell him by his knavish look, and by his paint," said the scout,
stepping past the charger of Heyward, and entering the path behind the
mare of the singing-master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt
to exact the maternal contribution. After shoving aside the bushes, and
proceeding a few paces, he encountered the females, who awaited the
result of the conference with anxiety, and not entirely without
apprehension. Behind these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he
stood the close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though
with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself excite fear.
Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed
the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answering to
the smile and nod of Alice with a look of open pleasure. Thence he went
to the side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless
inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook his head and returned
to Heyward.
"A Mingo is a Mingo, and God having made him so, neither the Mohawks nor
any other tribe can alter him," he said, when he had regained his former
position. "If we were alone, and you would leave that noble horse at the
mercy of the wolves to-night, I could show you the way to Edward,
myself, within an hour, for it lies only about an hour's journey hence;
but with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"
"And why? they are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a few
more miles."
"'Tis a natural impossibility!" repeated the scout; "I wouldn't walk a
mile in these woods after night gets into them, in company with that
runner, for the best rifle in the colonies. They are full of outlying
Iroquois, and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well, to
be my companion."
"Think you so?" said Heyward, leaning forward in the saddle, and
dropping his voice nearly to a whisper; "I confess I have not been
without my own suspicions, though I have endeavored to conceal them, and
affected a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my
companions. It was because I suspected him that I would follow no
longer; making him, as you see, follow me."
"I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid eyes on him!"
returned the scout, placing a finger on his nose, in sign of caution.
"The thief is leaning against the foot of the sugar sapling, that you
can see over them bushes; his right leg is in a line with the bark of
the tree, and," tapping his rifle, "I can take him from where I stand,
between the ankle and the knee, with a single shot, putting an end to
his tramping through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I
should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and
be dodging through the trees like a frightened deer."
"It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. Though, if I
felt confident of his treachery--"
"'Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an Iroquois," said the
scout, throwing his rifle forward, by a sort of instinctive movement.
"Hold!" interrupted Heyward, "it will not do--we must think of some
other scheme; and yet, I have much reason to believe the rascal has
deceived me."
The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of maiming the
runner, mused a moment, and then made a gesture, which instantly brought
his two red companions to his side. They spoke together earnestly in the
Delaware language, though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the
white man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the
sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of their hidden
enemy. His companions were not long in comprehending his wishes, and
laying aside their fire-arms, they parted, taking opposite sides of the
path, and burying themselves in the thicket, with such cautious
movements, that their steps were inaudible.
"Now, go you back," said the hunter, speaking again to Heyward, "and
hold the imp in talk; these Mohicans here will take him without breaking
his paint."
"Nay," said Heyward, proudly, "I will seize him myself."
"Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an Indian in the bushes?"
"I will dismount."
"And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out of the stirrup, he
would wait for the other to be free? Whoever comes into the woods to
deal with the natives, must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to
prosper in his undertakings. Go, then, talk openly to the miscreant, and
seem to believe him the truest friend you have on 'arth."
Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at the nature of
the office he was compelled to execute. Each moment, however, pressed
upon him a conviction of the critical situation in which he had suffered
his invaluable trust to be involved through his own confidence. The sun
had already disappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of his
light,[9] were assuming a dusky hue, which keenly reminded him that the
hour the savage usually chose for his most barbarous and remorseless
acts of vengeance or hostility, was speedily drawing near. Stimulated by
apprehension, he left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud
conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously enlisted
himself in the party of travellers that morning. In passing his gentler
companions Heyward uttered a few words of encouragement, and was pleased
to find that, though fatigued with the exercise of the day, they
appeared to entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was
other than the result of accident. Giving them reason to believe he was
merely employed in a consultation concerning the future route, he
spurred his charger, and drew the reins again, when the animal had
carried him within a few yards of the place where the sullen runner
still stood, leaning against the tree.
"You may see, Magua," he said, endeavoring to assume an air of freedom
and confidence, "that the night is closing around us, and yet we are no
nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb with
the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate.
But, happily we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking
to the singer, that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of the
woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely
till the morning."
The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as he asked, in his
imperfect English, "Is he alone?"
"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward to whom deception was too new to
be assumed without embarrassment. "O! not alone, surely, Magua, for you
know that we are with him."
"Then Le Renard Subtil will go," returned the runner, coolly raising his
little wallet from the place where it had lain at his feet; "and the
pale-faces will see none but their own color."
"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"
"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua," returned the
runner, with an air that manifested his pride at the distinction. "Night
is the same as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him."
"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William Henry
concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman
that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be
one?"
"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le Renard will
not hear him, or feel him, in the woods."
"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bid
him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted
with the business of a man."
"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bones
of his fathers," was the answer of the unmoved runner.
"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends? Why should there be
bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services
when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary
limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to
spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women. When the
ladies are refreshed we will proceed."
"The pale-faces make themselves dogs to their women," muttered the
Indian, in his native language, "and when they want to eat, their
warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to feed their laziness."
"What say you, Renard?"
"Le Subtil says it is good."
The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open countenance of
Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned them quickly away, and
seating himself deliberately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of
some former repast, and began to eat, though not without first bending
his looks slowly and cautiously around him.
"This is well," continued Heyward; "and Le Renard will have strength and
sight to find the path in the morning;" he paused, for sounds like the
snapping of a dried stick, and the rustling of leaves, rose from the
adjacent bushes, but recollecting himself instantly, he continued,--"we
must be moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our path,
and shut us out from the fortress."
The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his
eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his
nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed even to stand more erect than
usual, giving to him the appearance of a statue that was made to
represent intense attention.
Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye, carelessly
extricated one of his feet from the stirrup, while he passed a hand
towards the bear-skin covering of his holsters. Every effort to detect
the point most regarded by the runner was completely frustrated by the
tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest a single
instant on any particular object, and which, at the same time, could be
hardly said to move. While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil
cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and
guarded, that not the slightest noise was produced by the change.
Heyward felt it had now become incumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg
over the saddle, he dismounted, with a determination to advance and
seize his treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own manhood.
In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm, he still preserved an
air of calmness and friendship.
"Le Renard Subtil does not eat," he said, using the appellation he had
found most flattering to the vanity of the Indian. "His corn is not well
parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be
found among my own provisions that will help his appetite."
Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He even suffered
their hands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his
riveted attitude of attention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward
moving gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the
young man, and uttering a piercing cry as he darted beneath it, plunged,
at a single bound, into the opposite thicket. At the next instant the
form of Chingachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a spectre in
its paint, and glided across the path in swift pursuit. Next followed
the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash, that
was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's rifle.
| When the mounted party from Fort Howard approaches the three men of the woods, Hawkeye addresses first Gamut and then Heyward only to learn that they are lost because their Indian guide has taken them west instead of north toward Fort William Henry. Doubtful, especially when he learns that the guide is a Huron who has been adopted by the Mohawks, Hawkeye makes an a priori judgment of the still-unseen guide and uses the contemptuous term Mingo: "he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo." His two Indian companions concur with his thinking. Still doubting and cautious, be baits Heyward by bantering away about Indians until Heyward reveals that he is the major of the 60th regiment of the king at William Henry. Walking to the rear of the party for a look at Magua, Hawkeye returns and says that he could guide them back to Fort Edward, which is only an hour's journey away, but that it would be impossible because of the ladies and the dangers of coming night, particularly with the Mohawk as a companion. He suggests his shooting and disabling Magua from where he stands, but the major will not hear of it. Consequently, as the sun goes down, he sends the two Mohicans through the thickets on opposite sides of the path and tells the major to engage Magua in talk while he himself converses with Gamut. Magua proudly refers to himself as Le Renard Subtil , the name his Canada fathers have given him. He is cautiously quiet but allows Heyward to convince him to sit and eat. As slight sounds in the thicket make Le Renard alert, Heyward dismounts, determined to seize the treacherous guide, but the latter strikes up the major's arm, gives a piercing cry, and darts away into the thicket. Immediately Chingachgook and Uncas appear and give swift pursuit just as a flash comes from Hawkeye's rifle. | summary |
"Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury."
_Midsummer Night's Dream._
The words were still in the mouth of the scout, when the leader of the
party, whose approaching footsteps had caught the vigilant ear of the
Indian, came openly into view. A beaten path, such as those made by the
periodical passage of the deer, wound through a little glen at no great
distance, and struck the river at the point where the white man and his
red companions had posted themselves. Along this track the travellers,
who had produced a surprise so unusual in the depths of the forest,
advanced slowly towards the hunter, who was in front of his associates,
in readiness to receive them.
"Who comes?" demanded the scout, throwing his rifle carelessly across
his left arm, and keeping the forefinger of his right hand on the
trigger, though he avoided all appearance of menace in the act, "Who
comes hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"
"Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the king,"
returned he who rode foremost. "Men who have journeyed since the rising
sun, in the shades of this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly
tired of their wayfaring."
"You are, then, lost," interrupted the hunter, "and have found how
helpless 'tis not to know whether to take the right hand or the left?"
"Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide them
than we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess the
stature without the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to a post of
the crown called William Henry?"
"Hoot!" shouted the scout, who did not spare his open laughter, though,
instantly checking the dangerous sounds, he indulged his merriment at
less risk of being overheard by any lurking enemies. "You are as much
off the scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer!
William Henry, man! if you are friends to the king, and have business
with the army, your better way would be to follow the river down to
Edward, and lay the matter before Webb; who tarries there, instead of
pushing into the defiles, and driving this saucy Frenchman back across
Champlain, into his den again."
Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected proposition,
another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and leaped his charger into
the pathway, in front of his companion.
"What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?" demanded a new
speaker; "the place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and our
destination is the head of the lake."
"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way, for the
road across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a
path, I calculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the
palace of the king himself."
"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the passage," returned
Heyward, smiling; for, as the reader has anticipated, it was he. "It is
enough, for the present, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us
by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in his
knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are."
"An Indian lost in the woods!" said the scout, shaking his head
doubtingly; "when the sun is scorching the tree-tops, and the
water-courses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees, will tell
him in which quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods are
full of deer paths which run to the streams and licks, places well known
to everybody; nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters
altogether! 'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican
and the bend in the river. Is he a Mohawk?"
"Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace was
farther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron."
"Hugh!" exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who had continued,
until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable, and apparently
indifferent to what passed, but who now sprang to their feet with an
activity and interest that had evidently got the better of their
reserve, by surprise.
"A Huron!" repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his head in open
distrust; "they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they are
adopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds.
Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only
wonder that you have not fallen in with more."
"Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles in
our front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk,
and that he serves with our forces as a friend."
"And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo," returned
the other, positively. "A Mohawk! No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican
for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won't all do, having
suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women--but when
they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a
warrior!"
"Enough of this," said Heyward, impatiently; "I wish not to inquire into
the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be a stranger.
You have not yet answered my question: what is our distance from the
main army at Edward?"
"It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such a
horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and
sun-down."
"I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend," said Heyward,
curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a more gentle voice;
"if you will tell me the distance to Fort Edward, and conduct me
thither, your labor shall not go without its reward."
"And in so doing, how know I that I don't guide an enemy, and a spy of
Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak
the English tongue that is an honest subject."
"If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, you
should know of such a regiment of the king as the 60th."
"The 60th! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans that I don't
know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket."
"Well, then, among the other things, you may know the name of its
major?"
"Its major!" interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like one who was
proud of his trust. "If there is a man in the country who knows Major
Effingham, he stands before you."
"It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you name is the
senior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the
companies in garrison at William Henry."
"Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from one
of the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to
hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to
bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant
gentleman!"
"Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his rank, he now
speaks to you, and of course can be no enemy to dread."
The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his cap, he
answered, in a tone less confident than before, though still expressing
doubt,--
"I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this morning, for the
lake shore."
"You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting to
the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."
"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"
"Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is to be found
in the rear."
"I should like to look at the creatur'; if it is a true Iroquois I can
tell him by his knavish look, and by his paint," said the scout,
stepping past the charger of Heyward, and entering the path behind the
mare of the singing-master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt
to exact the maternal contribution. After shoving aside the bushes, and
proceeding a few paces, he encountered the females, who awaited the
result of the conference with anxiety, and not entirely without
apprehension. Behind these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he
stood the close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though
with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself excite fear.
Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed
the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answering to
the smile and nod of Alice with a look of open pleasure. Thence he went
to the side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless
inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook his head and returned
to Heyward.
"A Mingo is a Mingo, and God having made him so, neither the Mohawks nor
any other tribe can alter him," he said, when he had regained his former
position. "If we were alone, and you would leave that noble horse at the
mercy of the wolves to-night, I could show you the way to Edward,
myself, within an hour, for it lies only about an hour's journey hence;
but with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"
"And why? they are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a few
more miles."
"'Tis a natural impossibility!" repeated the scout; "I wouldn't walk a
mile in these woods after night gets into them, in company with that
runner, for the best rifle in the colonies. They are full of outlying
Iroquois, and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well, to
be my companion."
"Think you so?" said Heyward, leaning forward in the saddle, and
dropping his voice nearly to a whisper; "I confess I have not been
without my own suspicions, though I have endeavored to conceal them, and
affected a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my
companions. It was because I suspected him that I would follow no
longer; making him, as you see, follow me."
"I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid eyes on him!"
returned the scout, placing a finger on his nose, in sign of caution.
"The thief is leaning against the foot of the sugar sapling, that you
can see over them bushes; his right leg is in a line with the bark of
the tree, and," tapping his rifle, "I can take him from where I stand,
between the ankle and the knee, with a single shot, putting an end to
his tramping through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I
should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and
be dodging through the trees like a frightened deer."
"It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. Though, if I
felt confident of his treachery--"
"'Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an Iroquois," said the
scout, throwing his rifle forward, by a sort of instinctive movement.
"Hold!" interrupted Heyward, "it will not do--we must think of some
other scheme; and yet, I have much reason to believe the rascal has
deceived me."
The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of maiming the
runner, mused a moment, and then made a gesture, which instantly brought
his two red companions to his side. They spoke together earnestly in the
Delaware language, though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the
white man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the
sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of their hidden
enemy. His companions were not long in comprehending his wishes, and
laying aside their fire-arms, they parted, taking opposite sides of the
path, and burying themselves in the thicket, with such cautious
movements, that their steps were inaudible.
"Now, go you back," said the hunter, speaking again to Heyward, "and
hold the imp in talk; these Mohicans here will take him without breaking
his paint."
"Nay," said Heyward, proudly, "I will seize him myself."
"Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an Indian in the bushes?"
"I will dismount."
"And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out of the stirrup, he
would wait for the other to be free? Whoever comes into the woods to
deal with the natives, must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to
prosper in his undertakings. Go, then, talk openly to the miscreant, and
seem to believe him the truest friend you have on 'arth."
Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at the nature of
the office he was compelled to execute. Each moment, however, pressed
upon him a conviction of the critical situation in which he had suffered
his invaluable trust to be involved through his own confidence. The sun
had already disappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of his
light,[9] were assuming a dusky hue, which keenly reminded him that the
hour the savage usually chose for his most barbarous and remorseless
acts of vengeance or hostility, was speedily drawing near. Stimulated by
apprehension, he left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud
conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously enlisted
himself in the party of travellers that morning. In passing his gentler
companions Heyward uttered a few words of encouragement, and was pleased
to find that, though fatigued with the exercise of the day, they
appeared to entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was
other than the result of accident. Giving them reason to believe he was
merely employed in a consultation concerning the future route, he
spurred his charger, and drew the reins again, when the animal had
carried him within a few yards of the place where the sullen runner
still stood, leaning against the tree.
"You may see, Magua," he said, endeavoring to assume an air of freedom
and confidence, "that the night is closing around us, and yet we are no
nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb with
the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate.
But, happily we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking
to the singer, that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of the
woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely
till the morning."
The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as he asked, in his
imperfect English, "Is he alone?"
"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward to whom deception was too new to
be assumed without embarrassment. "O! not alone, surely, Magua, for you
know that we are with him."
"Then Le Renard Subtil will go," returned the runner, coolly raising his
little wallet from the place where it had lain at his feet; "and the
pale-faces will see none but their own color."
"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"
"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua," returned the
runner, with an air that manifested his pride at the distinction. "Night
is the same as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him."
"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William Henry
concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman
that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be
one?"
"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le Renard will
not hear him, or feel him, in the woods."
"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bid
him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted
with the business of a man."
"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bones
of his fathers," was the answer of the unmoved runner.
"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends? Why should there be
bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services
when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary
limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to
spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women. When the
ladies are refreshed we will proceed."
"The pale-faces make themselves dogs to their women," muttered the
Indian, in his native language, "and when they want to eat, their
warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to feed their laziness."
"What say you, Renard?"
"Le Subtil says it is good."
The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open countenance of
Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned them quickly away, and
seating himself deliberately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of
some former repast, and began to eat, though not without first bending
his looks slowly and cautiously around him.
"This is well," continued Heyward; "and Le Renard will have strength and
sight to find the path in the morning;" he paused, for sounds like the
snapping of a dried stick, and the rustling of leaves, rose from the
adjacent bushes, but recollecting himself instantly, he continued,--"we
must be moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our path,
and shut us out from the fortress."
The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his
eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his
nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed even to stand more erect than
usual, giving to him the appearance of a statue that was made to
represent intense attention.
Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye, carelessly
extricated one of his feet from the stirrup, while he passed a hand
towards the bear-skin covering of his holsters. Every effort to detect
the point most regarded by the runner was completely frustrated by the
tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest a single
instant on any particular object, and which, at the same time, could be
hardly said to move. While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil
cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and
guarded, that not the slightest noise was produced by the change.
Heyward felt it had now become incumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg
over the saddle, he dismounted, with a determination to advance and
seize his treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own manhood.
In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm, he still preserved an
air of calmness and friendship.
"Le Renard Subtil does not eat," he said, using the appellation he had
found most flattering to the vanity of the Indian. "His corn is not well
parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be
found among my own provisions that will help his appetite."
Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He even suffered
their hands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his
riveted attitude of attention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward
moving gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the
young man, and uttering a piercing cry as he darted beneath it, plunged,
at a single bound, into the opposite thicket. At the next instant the
form of Chingachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a spectre in
its paint, and glided across the path in swift pursuit. Next followed
the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash, that
was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's rifle.
| Since this chapter is mostly one of surface action, little comment is needed except to point out Hawkeye's respect for the military and the fact that all Iroquois tribes are to be looked upon as treacherous enemies. The alertness and swift action of Magua, who is more of a threat when they do not know his whereabouts, mark him as a worthy opponent for the stalwart protagonists. His escape heightens the suspense of the story. | analysis |
"In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself."
_Merchant of Venice._
The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild cries of the
pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a few moments, in inactive
surprise. Then recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he
dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend
his aid in the chase. Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards,
he met the three foresters already returning from their unsuccessful
pursuit.
"Why so soon disheartened!" he exclaimed; "the scoundrel must be
concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be secured. We are not
safe while he goes at large."
"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?" returned the disappointed
scout; "I heard the imp, brushing over the dry leaves, like a black
snake, and blinking a glimpse of him, just over ag'in yon big pine, I
pulled as it might be on the scent; but 'twouldn't do! and yet for a
reasoning aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should
call it a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in
these matters, and one who ought to know. Look at this sumach; its
leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow
blossom, in the month of July!"
"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"
"No, no," returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of this opinion,
"I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but the creature leaped the
longer for it. A rifle-bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks
him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens
motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But
when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly,
a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be it deer!"
"We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!"
"Is life grievous to you?" interrupted the scout. "Yonder red devils
would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of his comrades, before you
were heated in the chase. It was an unthoughtful act in a man who has so
often slept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece
within sound of an ambushment! But then it was a natural temptation!
'twas very natural! Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such
a fashion, too, as will throw the cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent,
or our scalps will be drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee,
ag'in this hour to-morrow."
This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the cool
assurance of a man who fully comprehended, while he did not fear to face
the danger, served to remind Heyward of the importance of the charge
with which he himself had been intrusted. Glancing his eyes around, with
a vain effort to pierce the gloom that was thickening beneath the leafy
arches of the forest, he felt as if, cut off from human aid, his
unresisting companions would soon lie at the entire mercy of those
barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey, only waited till the
gathering darkness might render their blows more fatally certain. His
awakened imagination, deluded by the deceptive light, converted each
waving bush, or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and
twenty times he fancied he could distinguish the horrid visages of his
lurking foes, peering from their hiding-places, in never-ceasing
watchfulness of the movements of his party. Looking upward, he found
that the thin fleecy clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky,
were already losing their faintest tints of rose-color, while the
imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where he stood, was to be
traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded banks.
"What is to be done?" he said, feeling the utter helplessness of doubt
in such a pressing strait; "desert me not, for God's sake! remain to
defend those I escort, and freely name your own reward!"
His companions, who conversed apart in the language of their tribe,
heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal. Though their dialogue was
maintained in low and cautious sounds, but little above a whisper,
Heyward, who now approached, could easily distinguish the earnest tones
of the younger warrior from the more deliberate speeches of his seniors.
It was evident that they debated on the propriety of some measure that
nearly concerned the welfare of the travellers. Yielding to his
powerful interest in the subject, and impatient of a delay that seemed
fraught with so much additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to the
dusky group, with an intention of making his offers of compensation more
definite, when the white man, motioning, with his hand, as if he
conceded the disputed point, turned away, saying in a sort of soliloquy,
and in the English tongue,--
"Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men to leave such harmless
things to their fate, even though it breaks up the harboring place
forever. If you would save these tender blossoms from the fangs of the
worst of serpents, gentleman, you have neither time to lose nor
resolution to throw away!"
"How can such a wish be doubted! have I not already offered--"
"Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom to circumvent the
cunning of the devils who fill these woods," calmly interrupted the
scout, "but spare your offers of money, which neither you may live to
realize, nor I to profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what man's
thoughts can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet, were
never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that without hope of any
other recompense but such as God always gives to upright dealings.
First, you must promise two things, both in your own name and for your
friends, or without serving you, we shall only injure ourselves!"
"Name them."
"The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what will happen;
and the other is, to keep the place where we shall take you, forever a
secret from all mortal men."
"I will do my utmost to see both these conditions fulfilled."
"Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as precious as the
heart's blood to a stricken deer!"
Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the scout, through
the increasing shadows of the evening, and he moved in his footsteps,
swiftly, towards the place where he had left the remainder of his party.
When they rejoined the expecting and anxious females, he briefly
acquainted them with the conditions of their new guide, and with the
necessity that existed for their hushing every apprehension, in instant
and serious exertions. Although his alarming communication was not
received without much secret terror by the listeners, his earnest and
impressive manner, aided perhaps by the nature of the danger, succeeded
in bracing their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for and unusual trial.
Silently, and without a moment's delay, they permitted him to assist
them from their saddles, when they descended quickly to the water's
edge, where the scout had collected the rest of the party, more by the
agency of expressive gestures than by any use of words.
"What to do with these dumb creatures!" muttered the white man, on whom
the sole control of their future movements appeared to devolve; "it
would be time lost to cut their throats, and cast them into the river;
and to leave them here, would be to tell the Mingos that they have not
far to seek to find their owners!"
"Then give them their bridles, and let them range the woods," Heyward
ventured to suggest.
"No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and make them believe they
must equal a horse's speed to run down their chase. Ay, ay, that will
blind their fire-balls of eyes! Chingach--Hist? what stirs the bush?"
"The colt."
"That colt, at least, must die," muttered the scout, grasping the mane
of the nimble beast, which easily eluded his hand; "Uncas, your arrows!"
"Hold!" exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned animal, aloud, without
regard to the whispering tones used by the others; "spare the foal of
Miriam! it is the comely offspring of a faithful dam, and would
willingly injure naught."
"When men struggle for the single life God has given them," said the
scout sternly, "even their own kind seem no more than the beasts of the
wood. If you speak again, I shall leave you to the mercy of the Maquas!
Draw to your arrow's head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows."
The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were still audible,
when the wounded foal, first rearing on its hinder legs, plunged forward
to its knees. It was met by Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its
throat quicker than thought, and then precipitating the motions of the
struggling victim, he dashed it into the river, down whose stream it
glided away, gasping audibly for breath with its ebbing life. This deed
of apparent cruelty, but of real necessity, fell upon the spirits of the
travellers like a terrific warning of the peril in which they stood,
heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution of the actors
in the scene. The sisters shuddered and clung closer to each other,
while Heyward instinctively laid his hand on one of the pistols he had
just drawn from their holsters, as he placed himself between his charge
and those dense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil before
the bosom of the forest.
The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the bridles,
they led the frightened and reluctant horses into the bed of the river.
At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were soon concealed
by the projection of the bank, under the brow of which they moved, in a
direction opposite to the course of the waters. In the meantime, the
scout drew a canoe of bark from its place of concealment beneath some
low bushes, whose branches were waving with the eddies of the current,
into which he silently motioned for the females to enter. They complied
without hesitation, though many a fearful and anxious glance was thrown
behind them towards the thickening gloom which now lay like a dark
barrier along the margin of the stream.
So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without regarding the
element, directed Heyward to support one side of the frail vessel, and
posting himself at the other, they bore it up against the stream,
followed by the dejected owner of the dead foal. In this manner they
proceeded, for many rods, in a silence that was only interrupted by the
rippling of the water, as its eddies played around them, or the low dash
made by their own cautious footsteps. Heyward yielded the guidance of
the canoe implicitly to the scout, who approached or receded from the
shore, to avoid the fragments of rocks, or deeper parts of the river,
with a readiness that showed his knowledge of the route they held.
Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathing stillness,
that the dull but increasing roar of the waterfall only served to render
more impressive, he would listen with painful intenseness, to catch any
sounds that might arise from the slumbering forest. When assured that
all was still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his practised
senses, any sign of his approaching foes, he would deliberately resume
his slow and unguarded progress. At length they reached a point in the
river, where the roving eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of
black objects, collected at a spot where the high bank threw a deeper
shadow than usual on the dark waters. Hesitating to advance, he pointed
out the place to the attention of his companion.
"Ay," returned the composed scout, "the Indians have hid the beasts
with the judgment of natives! Water leaves no trail, and an owl's eyes
would be blinded by the darkness of such a hole."
The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation was held
between the scout and his new comrades, during which, they whose fates
depended on the faith and ingenuity of these unknown foresters, had a
little leisure to observe their situation more minutely.
The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one of which
impended above the spot where the canoe rested. As these, again, were
surmounted by tall trees, which appeared to totter on the brows of the
precipice, it gave the stream the appearance of running through a deep
and narrow dell. All beneath the fantastic limbs and ragged tree-tops,
which were, here and there, dimly painted against the starry zenith, lay
alike in shadowed obscurity. Behind them, the curvature of the banks
soon bounded the view, by the same dark and wooded outline; but in
front, and apparently at no great distance, the water seemed piled
against the heavens, whence it tumbled into caverns, out of which issued
those sullen sounds that had loaded the evening atmosphere. It seemed,
in truth, to be a spot devoted to seclusion, and the sisters imbibed a
soothing impression of security, as they gazed upon its romantic, though
not unappalling beauties. A general movement among their conductors,
however, soon recalled them from a contemplation of the wild charms that
night had assisted to lend the place, to a painful sense of their real
peril.
The horses had been secured to some scattered shrubs that grew in the
fissures of the rocks, where, standing in the water, they were left to
pass the night. The scout directed Heyward and his disconsolate
fellow-travellers to seat themselves in the forward end of the canoe,
and took possession of the other himself, as erect and steady as if he
floated in a vessel of much firmer materials. The Indians warily
retraced their steps towards the place they had left, when the scout,
placing his pole against a rock, by a powerful shove, sent his frail
bark directly into the centre of the turbulent stream. For many minutes
the struggle between the light bubble in which they floated, and the
swift current, was severe and doubtful. Forbidden to stir even a hand,
and almost afraid to breathe, lest they should expose the frail fabric
to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched the glancing waters in
feverish suspense. Twenty times they thought the whirling eddies were
sweeping them to destruction, when the master-hand of their pilot would
bring the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid. A long, a vigorous, and,
as it appeared to the females, a desperate effort, closed the struggle.
Just as Alice veiled her eyes in horror, under the impression that they
were about to be swept within the vortex at the foot of the cataract,
the canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, that lay on a
level with the water.
"Where are we? and what is next to be done?" demanded Heyward,
perceiving that the exertions of the scout had ceased.
"You are at the foot of Glenn's," returned the other, speaking aloud,
without fear of consequences, within the roar of the cataract; "and the
next thing is to make a steady landing, lest the canoe upset, and you
should go down again the hard road we have travelled, faster than you
came up; 'tis a hard rift to stem, when the river is a little swelled;
and five is an unnatural number to keep dry, in the hurry-skurry, with a
little birchen bark and gum. There, go you all on the rock, and I will
bring up the Mohicans with the venison. A man had better sleep without
his scalp, than famish in the midst of plenty."
His passengers gladly complied with these directions. As the last foot
touched the rock, the canoe whirled from its station, when the tall form
of the scout was seen, for an instant, gliding above the waters, before
it disappeared in the impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of
the river. Left by their guide, the travellers remained a few minutes in
helpless ignorance, afraid even to move along the broken rocks, lest a
false step should precipitate them down some one of the many deep and
roaring caverns, into which the water seemed to tumble, on every side of
them. Their suspense, however, was soon relieved; for aided by the skill
of the natives, the canoe shot back into the eddy, and floated again at
the side of the low rock before they thought the scout had even time to
rejoin his companions.
"We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned," cried Heyward,
cheerfully, "and may set Montcalm and his allies at defiance. How, now,
my vigilant sentinel, can you see anything of those you call the
Iroquois, on the mainland?"
"I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who speaks a foreign
tongue, is accounted an enemy, though he may pretend to serve the king!
If Webb wants faith and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the
tribes of the Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and
Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature they belong,
among the French!"
"We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend! I have heard
that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet, and are content to be
called women!"
"Ay, shame on the Hollanders[10] and Iroquois, who circumvented them by
their deviltries, into such a treaty! But I have known them for twenty
years, and I call him liar, that says cowardly blood runs in the veins
of a Delaware. You have driven their tribes from the sea-shore, and
would now believe what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night
upon an easy pillow. No, no; to me, every Indian who speaks a foreign
tongue is an Iroquois, whether the castle[11] of his tribe be in Canada,
or be in New York."
Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout to the
cause of his friends the Delawares or Mohicans, for they were branches
of the same numerous people, was likely to prolong a useless discussion,
changed the subject.
"Treaty or no treaty, I know full well, that your two companions are
brave and cautious warriors! have they heard or seen anything of our
enemies?"
"An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen," returned the scout,
ascending the rock, and throwing the deer carelessly down. "I trust to
other signs than such as come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the
trail of the Mingos."
"Do your ears tell you that they have traced our retreat?"
"I should be sorry to think they had, though this is a spot that stout
courage might hold for a smart skrimmage. I will not deny, however, but
the horses cowered when I passed them, as though they scented the
wolves; and a wolf is a beast that is apt to hover about an Indian
ambushment, craving the offals of the deer the savages kill."
"You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their visit to the
dead colt? Ha! what noise is that?"
"Poor Miriam!" murmured the stranger; "thy foal was foreordained to
become a prey to ravenous beasts!" Then, suddenly lifting up his voice,
amid the eternal din of the waters, he sang aloud,--
"First born of Egypt, smite did He,
Of mankind, and of beast also;
O, Egypt! wonders sent 'midst thee,
On Pharaoh and his servants too!"
"The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its owner," said the
scout; "but it's a good sign to see a man account upon his dumb friends.
He has the religion of the matter, in believing what is to happen will
happen; and with such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits
to the rationality of killing a four-footed beast, to save the lives of
human men. It may be as you say," he continued, reverting to the purport
of Heyward's last remark; "and the greater the reason why we should cut
our steaks, and let the carcase drive down the stream, or we shall have
the pack howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we swallow.
Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as a book to the
Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough at understanding the
reason of a wolf's howl."
The scout, whilst making his remarks, was busied in collecting certain
necessary implements; as he concluded, he moved silently by the group of
travellers, accompanied by the Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his
intentions with instinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared
in succession, seeming to vanish against the dark face of a
perpendicular rock, that rose to the height of a few yards within as
many feet of the water's edge.
| The pursuit of Magua is unsuccessful, but Hawkeye feels that he has wounded him slightly and is certain of it when they find bloodstains on the sumach leaves. Heyward wants to continue the chase, but the scout fears an ambush, particularly since he has fired his rifle, an action for which he upbraids himself. With night almost upon them, the three woodsmen confer and, at the urging of Uncas, decide to take the group to their "harboring place" after Heyward promises to keep the place a secret. The horses are a problem, but rather than give them their bridles, the men agree to mislead the foe into thinking that the group is on horseback. When the colt makes a noise in the bush, the scout determines that of necessity it must die so that it cannot betray them. Uncas shoots it with an arrow and Chingachgook quickly and mercifully slits its throat and dashes it into the river to float away. While the Indians lead the horses into the river, Hawkeye and Heyward place the females in a bark canoe and, trailed by the dejected Gamut, wade in to bear it upstream toward the waterfall, passing the dark overhang of the bank where the horses are now hidden. At the falls, the scout seats all the whites in the canoe and poles it into the center of the turbulent stream, where it is whirled about until he brings it to rest beside a flat rock. "You are at the foot of Glenn's," he says and takes the canoe to fetch the Mohicans and the venison. When they are all together, he worriedly tells that the horses had cowered as if they scented wolves that would hover near Indian kills. He is interrupted by a sad song from Gamut, whom he tries to console for the death of the colt. Then he and the two Mohicans disappear in succession, "seeming to vanish against the dark face of a perpendicular rock." | summary |
"In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself."
_Merchant of Venice._
The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild cries of the
pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a few moments, in inactive
surprise. Then recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he
dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend
his aid in the chase. Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards,
he met the three foresters already returning from their unsuccessful
pursuit.
"Why so soon disheartened!" he exclaimed; "the scoundrel must be
concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be secured. We are not
safe while he goes at large."
"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?" returned the disappointed
scout; "I heard the imp, brushing over the dry leaves, like a black
snake, and blinking a glimpse of him, just over ag'in yon big pine, I
pulled as it might be on the scent; but 'twouldn't do! and yet for a
reasoning aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should
call it a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in
these matters, and one who ought to know. Look at this sumach; its
leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow
blossom, in the month of July!"
"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"
"No, no," returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of this opinion,
"I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but the creature leaped the
longer for it. A rifle-bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks
him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens
motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But
when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly,
a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be it deer!"
"We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!"
"Is life grievous to you?" interrupted the scout. "Yonder red devils
would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of his comrades, before you
were heated in the chase. It was an unthoughtful act in a man who has so
often slept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece
within sound of an ambushment! But then it was a natural temptation!
'twas very natural! Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such
a fashion, too, as will throw the cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent,
or our scalps will be drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee,
ag'in this hour to-morrow."
This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the cool
assurance of a man who fully comprehended, while he did not fear to face
the danger, served to remind Heyward of the importance of the charge
with which he himself had been intrusted. Glancing his eyes around, with
a vain effort to pierce the gloom that was thickening beneath the leafy
arches of the forest, he felt as if, cut off from human aid, his
unresisting companions would soon lie at the entire mercy of those
barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey, only waited till the
gathering darkness might render their blows more fatally certain. His
awakened imagination, deluded by the deceptive light, converted each
waving bush, or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and
twenty times he fancied he could distinguish the horrid visages of his
lurking foes, peering from their hiding-places, in never-ceasing
watchfulness of the movements of his party. Looking upward, he found
that the thin fleecy clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky,
were already losing their faintest tints of rose-color, while the
imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where he stood, was to be
traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded banks.
"What is to be done?" he said, feeling the utter helplessness of doubt
in such a pressing strait; "desert me not, for God's sake! remain to
defend those I escort, and freely name your own reward!"
His companions, who conversed apart in the language of their tribe,
heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal. Though their dialogue was
maintained in low and cautious sounds, but little above a whisper,
Heyward, who now approached, could easily distinguish the earnest tones
of the younger warrior from the more deliberate speeches of his seniors.
It was evident that they debated on the propriety of some measure that
nearly concerned the welfare of the travellers. Yielding to his
powerful interest in the subject, and impatient of a delay that seemed
fraught with so much additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to the
dusky group, with an intention of making his offers of compensation more
definite, when the white man, motioning, with his hand, as if he
conceded the disputed point, turned away, saying in a sort of soliloquy,
and in the English tongue,--
"Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men to leave such harmless
things to their fate, even though it breaks up the harboring place
forever. If you would save these tender blossoms from the fangs of the
worst of serpents, gentleman, you have neither time to lose nor
resolution to throw away!"
"How can such a wish be doubted! have I not already offered--"
"Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom to circumvent the
cunning of the devils who fill these woods," calmly interrupted the
scout, "but spare your offers of money, which neither you may live to
realize, nor I to profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what man's
thoughts can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet, were
never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that without hope of any
other recompense but such as God always gives to upright dealings.
First, you must promise two things, both in your own name and for your
friends, or without serving you, we shall only injure ourselves!"
"Name them."
"The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what will happen;
and the other is, to keep the place where we shall take you, forever a
secret from all mortal men."
"I will do my utmost to see both these conditions fulfilled."
"Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as precious as the
heart's blood to a stricken deer!"
Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the scout, through
the increasing shadows of the evening, and he moved in his footsteps,
swiftly, towards the place where he had left the remainder of his party.
When they rejoined the expecting and anxious females, he briefly
acquainted them with the conditions of their new guide, and with the
necessity that existed for their hushing every apprehension, in instant
and serious exertions. Although his alarming communication was not
received without much secret terror by the listeners, his earnest and
impressive manner, aided perhaps by the nature of the danger, succeeded
in bracing their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for and unusual trial.
Silently, and without a moment's delay, they permitted him to assist
them from their saddles, when they descended quickly to the water's
edge, where the scout had collected the rest of the party, more by the
agency of expressive gestures than by any use of words.
"What to do with these dumb creatures!" muttered the white man, on whom
the sole control of their future movements appeared to devolve; "it
would be time lost to cut their throats, and cast them into the river;
and to leave them here, would be to tell the Mingos that they have not
far to seek to find their owners!"
"Then give them their bridles, and let them range the woods," Heyward
ventured to suggest.
"No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and make them believe they
must equal a horse's speed to run down their chase. Ay, ay, that will
blind their fire-balls of eyes! Chingach--Hist? what stirs the bush?"
"The colt."
"That colt, at least, must die," muttered the scout, grasping the mane
of the nimble beast, which easily eluded his hand; "Uncas, your arrows!"
"Hold!" exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned animal, aloud, without
regard to the whispering tones used by the others; "spare the foal of
Miriam! it is the comely offspring of a faithful dam, and would
willingly injure naught."
"When men struggle for the single life God has given them," said the
scout sternly, "even their own kind seem no more than the beasts of the
wood. If you speak again, I shall leave you to the mercy of the Maquas!
Draw to your arrow's head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows."
The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were still audible,
when the wounded foal, first rearing on its hinder legs, plunged forward
to its knees. It was met by Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its
throat quicker than thought, and then precipitating the motions of the
struggling victim, he dashed it into the river, down whose stream it
glided away, gasping audibly for breath with its ebbing life. This deed
of apparent cruelty, but of real necessity, fell upon the spirits of the
travellers like a terrific warning of the peril in which they stood,
heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution of the actors
in the scene. The sisters shuddered and clung closer to each other,
while Heyward instinctively laid his hand on one of the pistols he had
just drawn from their holsters, as he placed himself between his charge
and those dense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil before
the bosom of the forest.
The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the bridles,
they led the frightened and reluctant horses into the bed of the river.
At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were soon concealed
by the projection of the bank, under the brow of which they moved, in a
direction opposite to the course of the waters. In the meantime, the
scout drew a canoe of bark from its place of concealment beneath some
low bushes, whose branches were waving with the eddies of the current,
into which he silently motioned for the females to enter. They complied
without hesitation, though many a fearful and anxious glance was thrown
behind them towards the thickening gloom which now lay like a dark
barrier along the margin of the stream.
So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without regarding the
element, directed Heyward to support one side of the frail vessel, and
posting himself at the other, they bore it up against the stream,
followed by the dejected owner of the dead foal. In this manner they
proceeded, for many rods, in a silence that was only interrupted by the
rippling of the water, as its eddies played around them, or the low dash
made by their own cautious footsteps. Heyward yielded the guidance of
the canoe implicitly to the scout, who approached or receded from the
shore, to avoid the fragments of rocks, or deeper parts of the river,
with a readiness that showed his knowledge of the route they held.
Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathing stillness,
that the dull but increasing roar of the waterfall only served to render
more impressive, he would listen with painful intenseness, to catch any
sounds that might arise from the slumbering forest. When assured that
all was still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his practised
senses, any sign of his approaching foes, he would deliberately resume
his slow and unguarded progress. At length they reached a point in the
river, where the roving eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of
black objects, collected at a spot where the high bank threw a deeper
shadow than usual on the dark waters. Hesitating to advance, he pointed
out the place to the attention of his companion.
"Ay," returned the composed scout, "the Indians have hid the beasts
with the judgment of natives! Water leaves no trail, and an owl's eyes
would be blinded by the darkness of such a hole."
The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation was held
between the scout and his new comrades, during which, they whose fates
depended on the faith and ingenuity of these unknown foresters, had a
little leisure to observe their situation more minutely.
The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one of which
impended above the spot where the canoe rested. As these, again, were
surmounted by tall trees, which appeared to totter on the brows of the
precipice, it gave the stream the appearance of running through a deep
and narrow dell. All beneath the fantastic limbs and ragged tree-tops,
which were, here and there, dimly painted against the starry zenith, lay
alike in shadowed obscurity. Behind them, the curvature of the banks
soon bounded the view, by the same dark and wooded outline; but in
front, and apparently at no great distance, the water seemed piled
against the heavens, whence it tumbled into caverns, out of which issued
those sullen sounds that had loaded the evening atmosphere. It seemed,
in truth, to be a spot devoted to seclusion, and the sisters imbibed a
soothing impression of security, as they gazed upon its romantic, though
not unappalling beauties. A general movement among their conductors,
however, soon recalled them from a contemplation of the wild charms that
night had assisted to lend the place, to a painful sense of their real
peril.
The horses had been secured to some scattered shrubs that grew in the
fissures of the rocks, where, standing in the water, they were left to
pass the night. The scout directed Heyward and his disconsolate
fellow-travellers to seat themselves in the forward end of the canoe,
and took possession of the other himself, as erect and steady as if he
floated in a vessel of much firmer materials. The Indians warily
retraced their steps towards the place they had left, when the scout,
placing his pole against a rock, by a powerful shove, sent his frail
bark directly into the centre of the turbulent stream. For many minutes
the struggle between the light bubble in which they floated, and the
swift current, was severe and doubtful. Forbidden to stir even a hand,
and almost afraid to breathe, lest they should expose the frail fabric
to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched the glancing waters in
feverish suspense. Twenty times they thought the whirling eddies were
sweeping them to destruction, when the master-hand of their pilot would
bring the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid. A long, a vigorous, and,
as it appeared to the females, a desperate effort, closed the struggle.
Just as Alice veiled her eyes in horror, under the impression that they
were about to be swept within the vortex at the foot of the cataract,
the canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, that lay on a
level with the water.
"Where are we? and what is next to be done?" demanded Heyward,
perceiving that the exertions of the scout had ceased.
"You are at the foot of Glenn's," returned the other, speaking aloud,
without fear of consequences, within the roar of the cataract; "and the
next thing is to make a steady landing, lest the canoe upset, and you
should go down again the hard road we have travelled, faster than you
came up; 'tis a hard rift to stem, when the river is a little swelled;
and five is an unnatural number to keep dry, in the hurry-skurry, with a
little birchen bark and gum. There, go you all on the rock, and I will
bring up the Mohicans with the venison. A man had better sleep without
his scalp, than famish in the midst of plenty."
His passengers gladly complied with these directions. As the last foot
touched the rock, the canoe whirled from its station, when the tall form
of the scout was seen, for an instant, gliding above the waters, before
it disappeared in the impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of
the river. Left by their guide, the travellers remained a few minutes in
helpless ignorance, afraid even to move along the broken rocks, lest a
false step should precipitate them down some one of the many deep and
roaring caverns, into which the water seemed to tumble, on every side of
them. Their suspense, however, was soon relieved; for aided by the skill
of the natives, the canoe shot back into the eddy, and floated again at
the side of the low rock before they thought the scout had even time to
rejoin his companions.
"We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned," cried Heyward,
cheerfully, "and may set Montcalm and his allies at defiance. How, now,
my vigilant sentinel, can you see anything of those you call the
Iroquois, on the mainland?"
"I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who speaks a foreign
tongue, is accounted an enemy, though he may pretend to serve the king!
If Webb wants faith and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the
tribes of the Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and
Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature they belong,
among the French!"
"We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend! I have heard
that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet, and are content to be
called women!"
"Ay, shame on the Hollanders[10] and Iroquois, who circumvented them by
their deviltries, into such a treaty! But I have known them for twenty
years, and I call him liar, that says cowardly blood runs in the veins
of a Delaware. You have driven their tribes from the sea-shore, and
would now believe what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night
upon an easy pillow. No, no; to me, every Indian who speaks a foreign
tongue is an Iroquois, whether the castle[11] of his tribe be in Canada,
or be in New York."
Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout to the
cause of his friends the Delawares or Mohicans, for they were branches
of the same numerous people, was likely to prolong a useless discussion,
changed the subject.
"Treaty or no treaty, I know full well, that your two companions are
brave and cautious warriors! have they heard or seen anything of our
enemies?"
"An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen," returned the scout,
ascending the rock, and throwing the deer carelessly down. "I trust to
other signs than such as come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the
trail of the Mingos."
"Do your ears tell you that they have traced our retreat?"
"I should be sorry to think they had, though this is a spot that stout
courage might hold for a smart skrimmage. I will not deny, however, but
the horses cowered when I passed them, as though they scented the
wolves; and a wolf is a beast that is apt to hover about an Indian
ambushment, craving the offals of the deer the savages kill."
"You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their visit to the
dead colt? Ha! what noise is that?"
"Poor Miriam!" murmured the stranger; "thy foal was foreordained to
become a prey to ravenous beasts!" Then, suddenly lifting up his voice,
amid the eternal din of the waters, he sang aloud,--
"First born of Egypt, smite did He,
Of mankind, and of beast also;
O, Egypt! wonders sent 'midst thee,
On Pharaoh and his servants too!"
"The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its owner," said the
scout; "but it's a good sign to see a man account upon his dumb friends.
He has the religion of the matter, in believing what is to happen will
happen; and with such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits
to the rationality of killing a four-footed beast, to save the lives of
human men. It may be as you say," he continued, reverting to the purport
of Heyward's last remark; "and the greater the reason why we should cut
our steaks, and let the carcase drive down the stream, or we shall have
the pack howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we swallow.
Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as a book to the
Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough at understanding the
reason of a wolf's howl."
The scout, whilst making his remarks, was busied in collecting certain
necessary implements; as he concluded, he moved silently by the group of
travellers, accompanied by the Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his
intentions with instinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared
in succession, seeming to vanish against the dark face of a
perpendicular rock, that rose to the height of a few yards within as
many feet of the water's edge.
| Here the reader encounters the first bloodshed born of war. The wounding of Magua and the killing of the innocent colt stand in contrast to the preceding shooting of the deer for food. Now that the two parties have become one by virtue of survival necessities, Hawkeye shows his skill as a woodsman who also knows his enemies' ways. He stands forth as a decisive character. Gamut too grows in characterization. While the two girls give simple female reactions to the killing of the colt, Gamut grieves in such a way that he commands the solace and respect of Hawkeye, who says that "it's a good sign to see a man account upon his dumb friends." In being thus cruelly initiated into the expediencies of savage warfare, the singing master temporarily loses his comic character to become the sad civilian, the inexperienced outsider on whom the magnitude of these actions can fall with full personal force. | analysis |
"Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide;
He wales a portion with judicious care;
And 'Let us worship God,' he says, with solemn air."
BURNS.
Heyward, and his female companions, witnessed this mysterious movement
with secret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of the white man had
hitherto been above reproach, his rude equipments, blunt address, and
strong antipathies, together with the character of his silent
associates, were all causes for exciting distrust in minds that had been
so recently alarmed by Indian treachery.
The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. He seated himself
on a projection of the rocks, whence he gave no other signs of
consciousness than by the struggles of his spirit, as manifested in
frequent and heavy sighs. Smothered voices were next heard, as though
men called to each other in the bowels of the earth, when a sudden light
flashed upon those without, and laid bare the much-prized secret of the
place.
At the farther extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the rock, whose
length appeared much extended by the perspective and the nature of the
light by which it was seen, was seated the scout, holding a blazing knot
of pine. The strong glare of the fire fell full upon his sturdy,
weather-beaten countenance and forest attire, lending an air of romantic
wildness to the aspect of an individual, who, seen by the sober light of
day, would have exhibited the peculiarities of a man remarkable for the
strangeness of his dress, the iron-like inflexibility of his frame, and
the singular compound of quick, vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite
simplicity, that by turns usurped the possession of his muscular
features. At a little distance in advance stood Uncas, his whole person
thrown powerfully into view. The travellers anxiously regarded the
upright, flexible figure of the young Mohican, graceful and unrestrained
in the attitudes and movements of nature. Though his person was more
than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-shirt, like that of
the white man, there was no concealment to his dark, glancing, fearless
eye, alike terrible and calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty
features, pure in their native red; or to the dignified elevation of his
receding forehead, together with all the finest proportions of a noble
head, bared to the generous scalping tuft. It was the first opportunity
possessed by Duncan and his companions, to view the marked lineaments of
either of their Indian attendants, and each individual of the party felt
relieved from a burden of doubt, as the proud and determined, though
wild expression of the features of the young warrior forced itself on
their notice. They felt it might be a being partially benighted in the
vale of ignorance, but it could not be one who would willingly devote
his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton treachery. The
ingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and proud carriage, as she would
have looked upon some precious relic of the Grecian chisel, to which
life had been imparted by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward,
though accustomed to see the perfection of form which abounds among the
uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his admiration at such an
unblemished specimen of the noblest proportions of man.
"I could sleep in peace," whispered Alice, in reply, "with such a
fearless and generous looking youth for my sentinel. Surely, Duncan,
those cruel murders, those terrific scenes of torture, of which we read
and hear so much, are never acted in the presence of such as he!"
"This, certainly, is a rare and brilliant instance of those natural
qualities, in which these peculiar people are said to excel," he
answered. "I agree with you, Alice, in thinking that such a front and
eye were formed rather to intimidate than to deceive; but let us not
practise a deception upon ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition
of what we esteem virtue than according to the fashion of a savage. As
bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon among
Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the Indians; though,
for the honor of our common nature, neither are incapable of producing
them. Let us then hope that this Mohican may not disappoint our wishes,
but prove, what his looks assert him to be, a brave and constant
friend."
"Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should," said Cora; "who,
that looks at this creature of nature, remembers the shade of his skin!"
A short, and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this remark,
which was interrupted by the scout calling to them, aloud, to enter.
"This fire begins to show too bright a flame," he continued, as they
complied, "and might light the Mingos to our undoing. Uncas, drop the
blanket, and show the knaves its dark side. This is not such a supper as
a major of the Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I've known
stout detachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and
without a relish too.[12] Here, you see, we have plenty of salt, and can
make a quick broil. There's fresh sassafras boughs for the ladies to sit
on, which may not be as proud as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which
sends up a sweeter flavor than the skin of any hog can do, be it of
Guinea, or be it of any other land. Come, friend, don't be mournful for
the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much hardship. Its
death will save the creature many a sore back and weary foot!"
Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of Hawkeye
ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the rumbling of distant
thunder.
"Are we quite safe in this cavern?" demanded Heyward. "Is there no
danger of surprise? A single armed man, at its entrance, would hold us
at his mercy."
A spectral-looking figure stalked from out the darkness behind the
scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held it towards the farther
extremity of their place of retreat. Alice uttered a faint shriek, and
even Cora rose to her feet, as this appalling object moved into the
light; but a single word from Heyward calmed them, with the assurance it
was only their attendant, Chingachgook, who, lifting another blanket,
discovered that the cavern had two outlets. Then, holding the brand, he
crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the rocks, which ran at right angles
with the passage they were in, but which, unlike that, was open to the
heavens, and entered another cave, answering to the description of the
first, in every essential particular.
"Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often caught in a
burrow with one hole," said Hawkeye, laughing; "you can easily see the
cunning of the place--the rock is black limestone, which everybody knows
is soft; it makes no uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood is
scarce; well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to say
was, in its time, as regular and as handsome a sheet of water as any
along the Hudson. But old age is a great injury to good looks, as these
sweet young ladies have yet to l'arn! The place is sadly changed! These
rocks are full of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at
othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for itself, until
it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet, breaking here and wearing
there, until the falls have neither shape nor consistency."
"In what part of them are we?" asked Heyward.
"Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first placed them at, but
where, it seems, they were too rebellious to stay. The rock proved
softer on each side of us, and so they left the centre of the river bare
and dry, first working out these two little holes for us to hide in."
"We are then on an island?"
"Ay! there are the falls on two sides of us, and the river above and
below. If you had daylight, it would be worth the trouble to step up on
the height of this rock, and look at the perversity of the water. It
falls by no rule at all; sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles;
there, it skips; here, it shoots; in one place 'tis white as snow, and
in another 'tis green as grass; hereabouts, it pitches into deep
hollows, that rumble and quake the 'arth; and hereaway, it ripples and
sings like a brook, fashioning whirlpools and gulleys in the old stone,
as it 'twas no harder than trodden clay. The whole design of the river
seems disconcerted. First it runs smoothly, as if meaning to go down the
descent as things were ordered; then it angles about and faces the
shores; nor are there places wanting where it looks backward, as if
unwilling to leave the wilderness, to mingle with the salt! Ay, lady,
the fine cobweb-looking cloth you wear at your throat, is coarse, and
like a fish-net, to little spots I can show you, where the river
fabricates all sorts of images, as if, having broke loose from order, it
would try its hand at everything. And yet what does it amount to! After
the water has been suffered to have its will, for a time, like a
headstrong man, it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a
few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily towards the sea,
as was foreordained from the first foundation of the 'arth!"
While his auditors received a cheering assurance of the security of
their place of concealment, from this untutored description of
Glenn's,[13] they were much inclined to judge differently from Hawkeye,
of its wild beauties. But they were not in a situation to suffer their
thoughts to dwell on the charms of natural objects; and, as the scout
had not found it necessary to cease his culinary labors while he spoke,
unless to point out, with a broken fork, the direction of some
particularly obnoxious point in the rebellious stream, they now suffered
their attention to be drawn to the necessary, though more vulgar
consideration of their supper.
The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition of a few delicacies
that Heyward had the precaution to bring with him when they left their
horses, was exceedingly refreshing to the wearied party. Uncas acted as
attendant to the females, performing all the little offices within his
power, with a mixture of dignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse
Heyward, who well knew that it was an utter innovation on the Indian
customs, which forbid their warriors to descend to any menial
employment, especially in favor of their women. As the rites of
hospitality were, however, considered sacred among them, this little
departure from the dignity of manhood excited no audible comment. Had
there been one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close observer,
he might have fancied that the services of the young chief were not
entirely impartial. That while he tendered to Alice the gourd of sweet
water and the venison in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of the
pepperidge, with sufficient courtesy, in performing the same offices to
her sister, his dark eye lingered on her rich, speaking countenance.
Once or twice he was compelled to speak, to command the attention of
those he served. In such cases, he made use of English, broken and
imperfect, but sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered so mild
and musical, by his deep,[14] guttural voice, that it never failed to
cause both ladies to look up in admiration and astonishment. In the
course of these civilities, a few sentences were exchanged, that served
to establish the appearance of an amicable intercourse between the
parties.
In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingachgook remained immovable. He had
seated himself more within the circle of light, where the frequent
uneasy glances of his guests were better enabled to separate the natural
expression of his face from the artificial terrors of the war-paint.
They found a strong resemblance between father and son, with the
difference that might be expected from age and hardships. The fierceness
of his countenance now seemed to slumber, and in its place was to be
seen the quiet, vacant composure, which distinguishes an Indian warrior,
when his faculties are not required for any of the greater purposes of
his existence. It was, however, easy to be seen, by the occasional
gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that it was only necessary
to arouse his passions, in order to give full effect to the terrific
device which he had adopted to intimidate his enemies. On the other
hand, the quick, roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank
with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, but his
vigilance seemed never to desert him. Twenty times the gourd or the
venison was suspended before his lips, while his head was turned aside,
as though he listened to some distant and distrusted sounds--a movement
that never failed to recall his guests from regarding the novelties of
their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasons that had
driven them to seek it. As these frequent pauses were never followed by
any remark, the momentary uneasiness they created quickly passed away,
and for a time was forgotten.
"Come, friend," said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg from beneath a cover of
leaves, towards the close of the repast, and addressing the stranger who
sat at his elbow, doing great justice to his culinary skill, "try a
little spruce; 'twill wash away all thoughts of the colt, and quicken
the life in your bosom. I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a
little horse-flesh may leave no heartburnings atween us. How do you name
yourself?"
"Gamut--David Gamut," returned the singing-master, preparing to wash
down his sorrows in a powerful draught of the woodman's high-flavored
and well-laced compound.
"A very good name, and, I dare say, handed down from honest
forefathers. I'm an admirator of names, though the Christian fashions
fall far below savage customs in this particular. The biggest coward I
ever knew was called Lyon; and his wife, Patience, would scold you out
of hearing in less time than a hunted deer would run a rod. With an
Indian 'tis a matter of conscience; what he calls himself, he generally
is--not that Chingachgook, which signifies Big Sarpent, is really a
snake, big or little; but that he understands the windings and turnings
of human natur', and is silent, and strikes his enemies when they least
expect him. What may be your calling?"
"I am an unworthy instructor in the art of psalmody."
"Anan!"
"I teach singing to the youths, of the Connecticut levy."
"You might be better employed. The young hounds go laughing and singing
too much already through the woods, when they ought not to breathe
louder than a fox in his cover. Can you use the smooth bore, or handle
the rifle?"
"Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle with murderous
implements!"
"Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down the water-courses and
mountains of the wilderness on paper, in order that they who follow may
find places by their given names?"
"I practise no such employment."
"You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem short! you
journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the general."
"Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which is
instruction in sacred music!"
"'Tis a strange calling!" muttered Hawkeye, with an inward laugh, "to go
through life, like a catbird, mocking all the ups and downs that may
happen to come out of other men's throats. Well, friend, I suppose it is
your gift, and mustn't be denied any more than if 'twas shooting, or
some other better inclination. Let us hear what you can do in that way;
'twill be a friendly manner of saying good-night, for 'tis time that
these ladies should be getting strength for a hard and a long push, in
the pride of the morning, afore the Maquas are stirring!"
"With joyful pleasure do I consent," said David, adjusting his
iron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his beloved little volume, which
he immediately tendered to Alice. "What can be more fitting and
consolatory, than to offer up evening praise, after a day of such
exceeding jeopardy!"
Alice smiled; but regarding Heyward, she blushed and hesitated.
"Indulge yourself," he whispered: "ought not the suggestion of the
worthy namesake of the Psalmist to have its weight at such a moment?"
Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious inclinations and her
keen relish for gentle sounds, had before so strongly urged. The book
was open at a hymn not ill adapted to their situation, and in which the
poet, no longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired king of
Israel, had discovered some chastened and respectable powers. Cora
betrayed a disposition to support her sister, and the sacred song
proceeded, after the indispensable preliminaries of the pitch-pipe and
the tune had been duly attended to by the methodical David.
The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the fullest compass of
the rich voices of the females, who hung over their little book in holy
excitement, and again it sank so low, that the rushing of the waters ran
through their melody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and
true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit the confined
cavern, every crevice, and cranny of which was filled with the thrilling
notes of their flexible voices. The Indians riveted their eyes on the
rocks, and listened with an attention that seemed to turn them into
stone. But the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an
expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his rigid features
to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron nature
subdued, while his recollection was carried back to boyhood, when his
ears had been accustomed to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the
settlements of the colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before
the hymn was ended, scalding tears rolled out of fountains that had long
seemed dry, and followed each other down those cheeks, that had oftener
felt the storms of heaven than any testimonials of weakness. The singers
were dwelling on one of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours
with such greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose them,
when a cry, that seemed neither human nor earthly, rose in the outward
air, penetrating not only the recesses of the cavern, but to the inmost
hearts of all who heard it. It was followed by a stillness apparently as
deep as if the waters had been checked in their furious progress, at
such a horrid and unusual interruption.
"What is it?" murmured Alice, after a few moments of terrible suspense.
"What is it?" repeated Heyward aloud.
Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. They listened, as if
expecting the sound would be repeated, with a manner that expressed
their own astonishment. At length they spoke together earnestly, in the
Delaware language, when Uncas, passing by the inner and most concealed
aperture, cautiously left the cavern. When he had gone, the scout first
spoke in English.
"What it is, or what it is not, none here can tell; though two of us
have ranged the woods for more than thirty years! I did believe there
was no cry that Indians or beast could make, that my ears had not heard;
but this has proved that I was only a vain and conceited mortal!"
"Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when they wish to
intimidate their enemies?" asked Cora, who stood drawing her veil about
her person, with a calmness to which her agitated sister was a stranger.
"No, no; this was bad, and shocking, and had a sort of unhuman sound;
but when you once hear the war-whoop, you will never mistake it for
anything else! Well, Uncas!" speaking in Delaware to the young chief as
he re-entered, "what see you? do our lights shine through the blankets?"
The answer was short, and apparently decided, being given in the same
tongue.
"There is nothing to be seen without," continued Hawkeye, shaking his
head in discontent; "and our hiding-place is still in darkness! Pass
into the other cave, you that need it, and seek for sleep; we must be
afoot long before the sun, and make the most of our time to get to
Edward, while the Mingos are taking their morning nap."
Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness that taught the
more timid Alice the necessity of obedience. Before leaving the place,
however, she whispered a request to Duncan that he would follow. Uncas
raised the blanket for their passage, and as the sisters turned to thank
him for this act of attention, they saw the scout seated again before
the dying embers, with his face resting on his hands, in a manner which
showed how deeply he brooded on the unaccountable interruption which
had broken up their evening devotions.
Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim light through
the narrow vista of their new apartment. Placing it in a favorable
position, he joined the females, who now found themselves alone with him
for the first time since they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort
Edward.
"Leave us not, Duncan," said Alice; "we cannot sleep in such a place as
this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our ears!"
"First let us examine into the security of your fortress," he answered,
"and then we will speak of rest."
He approached the farther end of the cavern, to an outlet, which, like
the others, was concealed by blankets, and removing the thick screen,
breathed the fresh and reviving air from the cataract. One arm of the
river flowed through a deep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn
in the soft rock, directly beneath his feet, forming an effectual
defence, as he believed, against any danger from that quarter; the
water, a few rods above them, plunging, glancing, and sweeping along, in
its most violent and broken manner.
"Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this side," he continued,
pointing down the perpendicular declivity into the dark current, before
he dropped the blanket; "and as you know that good men and true are on
guard in front, I see no reason why the advice of our honest host should
be disregarded. I am certain Cora will join me in saying that sleep is
necessary to you both."
"Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion, though she cannot put
it in practise," returned the elder sister, who had placed herself by
the side of Alice, on a couch of sassafras; "there would be other causes
to chase away sleep, though we had been spared the shock of this
mysterious noise. Ask yourself, Heyward, can daughters forget the
anxiety a father must endure, whose children lodge, he knows not where
or how, in such a wilderness, and in the midst of so many perils?"
"He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the chances of the woods."
"He is a father, and cannot deny his nature."
"How kind has he ever been to all my follies! how tender and indulgent
to all my wishes!" sobbed Alice. "We have been selfish, sister, in
urging our visit at such hazard!"
"I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of much
embarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that however others might
neglect him in his strait, his children at least were faithful!"
"When he heard of your arrival at Edward," said Heyward, kindly, "there
was a powerful struggle in his bosom between fear and love; though the
latter, heightened, if possible, by so long a separation, quickly
prevailed. 'It is the spirit of my noble-minded Cora that leads them,
Duncan,' he said, 'and I will not balk it. Would to God, that he who
holds the honor of our royal master in his guardianship, would show but
half her firmness!'"
"And did he not speak of me, Heyward?" demanded Alice, with jealous
affection. "Surely, he forgot not altogether his little Elsie?"
"That was impossible," returned the young man; "he called you by a
thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume to use, but to the
justice of which I can warmly testify. Once, indeed, he said--"
Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on those of
Alice, who had turned towards him with the eagerness of filial
affection, to catch his words, the same strong horrid cry, as before,
filled the air, and rendered him mute. A long, breathless silence
succeeded, during which each looked at the others in fearful expectation
of hearing the sound repeated. At length the blanket was slowly raised,
and the scout stood in the aperture with a countenance whose firmness
evidently began to give way, before a mystery that seemed to threaten
some danger, against which all his cunning and experience might prove of
no avail.
| Heyward and the girls are uneasy and Gamut is still struggling in spirit when a light flashes upon them and they see that the others have entered a cavern hidden by a blanket. Hawkeye is holding a blazing knot of pine which silhouettes Uncas, the first clear sight of whose carriage and almost Grecian features relieves the lingering doubts of those from Fort Edward. When the latter also enter the cavern, they learn that at the other entrance is a narrow, open chasm running at right angles and that just beyond it is another cave. They are essentially on an island of rock with the falls and turbulent water on both sides. As they take their meal of venison, Uncas makes an innovation on his Indian customs by attending the females, betraying a bit more interest in Cora than in Alice. In spite of his continuous vigilance, Hawkeye draws out a keg and invites Gamut to "try a little spruce." After they discuss Gamut's name and profession, the psalmodist and the girls render a sacred number that is safely muffled by the noise of the falls. The memory of his boyhood in the settlements brings tears to the scout's eyes just as the song is interrupted by a sudden, unearthly cry. In the ensuing stillness, Uncas cautiously steps outside but can see nothing to identify the unknown sound. Heyward takes the girls into the inner cave for sleep and inspects the far entrance to find directly beneath his feet an impenetrable barrier of roiling water. Though yet stoical, Cora seems for the first time to feel it rash to be trying to visit their father during this crisis. Heyward is reassuring the girls about Munro's feelings for them when the horrid cry fills the air again. Within a moment, the blanket-entrance is raised and the scout stands there, his face reflecting everyone's fearful sense of mystery and his own growing dismay. | summary |
"Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide;
He wales a portion with judicious care;
And 'Let us worship God,' he says, with solemn air."
BURNS.
Heyward, and his female companions, witnessed this mysterious movement
with secret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of the white man had
hitherto been above reproach, his rude equipments, blunt address, and
strong antipathies, together with the character of his silent
associates, were all causes for exciting distrust in minds that had been
so recently alarmed by Indian treachery.
The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. He seated himself
on a projection of the rocks, whence he gave no other signs of
consciousness than by the struggles of his spirit, as manifested in
frequent and heavy sighs. Smothered voices were next heard, as though
men called to each other in the bowels of the earth, when a sudden light
flashed upon those without, and laid bare the much-prized secret of the
place.
At the farther extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the rock, whose
length appeared much extended by the perspective and the nature of the
light by which it was seen, was seated the scout, holding a blazing knot
of pine. The strong glare of the fire fell full upon his sturdy,
weather-beaten countenance and forest attire, lending an air of romantic
wildness to the aspect of an individual, who, seen by the sober light of
day, would have exhibited the peculiarities of a man remarkable for the
strangeness of his dress, the iron-like inflexibility of his frame, and
the singular compound of quick, vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite
simplicity, that by turns usurped the possession of his muscular
features. At a little distance in advance stood Uncas, his whole person
thrown powerfully into view. The travellers anxiously regarded the
upright, flexible figure of the young Mohican, graceful and unrestrained
in the attitudes and movements of nature. Though his person was more
than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-shirt, like that of
the white man, there was no concealment to his dark, glancing, fearless
eye, alike terrible and calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty
features, pure in their native red; or to the dignified elevation of his
receding forehead, together with all the finest proportions of a noble
head, bared to the generous scalping tuft. It was the first opportunity
possessed by Duncan and his companions, to view the marked lineaments of
either of their Indian attendants, and each individual of the party felt
relieved from a burden of doubt, as the proud and determined, though
wild expression of the features of the young warrior forced itself on
their notice. They felt it might be a being partially benighted in the
vale of ignorance, but it could not be one who would willingly devote
his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton treachery. The
ingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and proud carriage, as she would
have looked upon some precious relic of the Grecian chisel, to which
life had been imparted by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward,
though accustomed to see the perfection of form which abounds among the
uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his admiration at such an
unblemished specimen of the noblest proportions of man.
"I could sleep in peace," whispered Alice, in reply, "with such a
fearless and generous looking youth for my sentinel. Surely, Duncan,
those cruel murders, those terrific scenes of torture, of which we read
and hear so much, are never acted in the presence of such as he!"
"This, certainly, is a rare and brilliant instance of those natural
qualities, in which these peculiar people are said to excel," he
answered. "I agree with you, Alice, in thinking that such a front and
eye were formed rather to intimidate than to deceive; but let us not
practise a deception upon ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition
of what we esteem virtue than according to the fashion of a savage. As
bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon among
Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the Indians; though,
for the honor of our common nature, neither are incapable of producing
them. Let us then hope that this Mohican may not disappoint our wishes,
but prove, what his looks assert him to be, a brave and constant
friend."
"Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should," said Cora; "who,
that looks at this creature of nature, remembers the shade of his skin!"
A short, and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this remark,
which was interrupted by the scout calling to them, aloud, to enter.
"This fire begins to show too bright a flame," he continued, as they
complied, "and might light the Mingos to our undoing. Uncas, drop the
blanket, and show the knaves its dark side. This is not such a supper as
a major of the Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I've known
stout detachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and
without a relish too.[12] Here, you see, we have plenty of salt, and can
make a quick broil. There's fresh sassafras boughs for the ladies to sit
on, which may not be as proud as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which
sends up a sweeter flavor than the skin of any hog can do, be it of
Guinea, or be it of any other land. Come, friend, don't be mournful for
the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much hardship. Its
death will save the creature many a sore back and weary foot!"
Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of Hawkeye
ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the rumbling of distant
thunder.
"Are we quite safe in this cavern?" demanded Heyward. "Is there no
danger of surprise? A single armed man, at its entrance, would hold us
at his mercy."
A spectral-looking figure stalked from out the darkness behind the
scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held it towards the farther
extremity of their place of retreat. Alice uttered a faint shriek, and
even Cora rose to her feet, as this appalling object moved into the
light; but a single word from Heyward calmed them, with the assurance it
was only their attendant, Chingachgook, who, lifting another blanket,
discovered that the cavern had two outlets. Then, holding the brand, he
crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the rocks, which ran at right angles
with the passage they were in, but which, unlike that, was open to the
heavens, and entered another cave, answering to the description of the
first, in every essential particular.
"Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often caught in a
burrow with one hole," said Hawkeye, laughing; "you can easily see the
cunning of the place--the rock is black limestone, which everybody knows
is soft; it makes no uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood is
scarce; well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to say
was, in its time, as regular and as handsome a sheet of water as any
along the Hudson. But old age is a great injury to good looks, as these
sweet young ladies have yet to l'arn! The place is sadly changed! These
rocks are full of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at
othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for itself, until
it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet, breaking here and wearing
there, until the falls have neither shape nor consistency."
"In what part of them are we?" asked Heyward.
"Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first placed them at, but
where, it seems, they were too rebellious to stay. The rock proved
softer on each side of us, and so they left the centre of the river bare
and dry, first working out these two little holes for us to hide in."
"We are then on an island?"
"Ay! there are the falls on two sides of us, and the river above and
below. If you had daylight, it would be worth the trouble to step up on
the height of this rock, and look at the perversity of the water. It
falls by no rule at all; sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles;
there, it skips; here, it shoots; in one place 'tis white as snow, and
in another 'tis green as grass; hereabouts, it pitches into deep
hollows, that rumble and quake the 'arth; and hereaway, it ripples and
sings like a brook, fashioning whirlpools and gulleys in the old stone,
as it 'twas no harder than trodden clay. The whole design of the river
seems disconcerted. First it runs smoothly, as if meaning to go down the
descent as things were ordered; then it angles about and faces the
shores; nor are there places wanting where it looks backward, as if
unwilling to leave the wilderness, to mingle with the salt! Ay, lady,
the fine cobweb-looking cloth you wear at your throat, is coarse, and
like a fish-net, to little spots I can show you, where the river
fabricates all sorts of images, as if, having broke loose from order, it
would try its hand at everything. And yet what does it amount to! After
the water has been suffered to have its will, for a time, like a
headstrong man, it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a
few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily towards the sea,
as was foreordained from the first foundation of the 'arth!"
While his auditors received a cheering assurance of the security of
their place of concealment, from this untutored description of
Glenn's,[13] they were much inclined to judge differently from Hawkeye,
of its wild beauties. But they were not in a situation to suffer their
thoughts to dwell on the charms of natural objects; and, as the scout
had not found it necessary to cease his culinary labors while he spoke,
unless to point out, with a broken fork, the direction of some
particularly obnoxious point in the rebellious stream, they now suffered
their attention to be drawn to the necessary, though more vulgar
consideration of their supper.
The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition of a few delicacies
that Heyward had the precaution to bring with him when they left their
horses, was exceedingly refreshing to the wearied party. Uncas acted as
attendant to the females, performing all the little offices within his
power, with a mixture of dignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse
Heyward, who well knew that it was an utter innovation on the Indian
customs, which forbid their warriors to descend to any menial
employment, especially in favor of their women. As the rites of
hospitality were, however, considered sacred among them, this little
departure from the dignity of manhood excited no audible comment. Had
there been one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close observer,
he might have fancied that the services of the young chief were not
entirely impartial. That while he tendered to Alice the gourd of sweet
water and the venison in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of the
pepperidge, with sufficient courtesy, in performing the same offices to
her sister, his dark eye lingered on her rich, speaking countenance.
Once or twice he was compelled to speak, to command the attention of
those he served. In such cases, he made use of English, broken and
imperfect, but sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered so mild
and musical, by his deep,[14] guttural voice, that it never failed to
cause both ladies to look up in admiration and astonishment. In the
course of these civilities, a few sentences were exchanged, that served
to establish the appearance of an amicable intercourse between the
parties.
In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingachgook remained immovable. He had
seated himself more within the circle of light, where the frequent
uneasy glances of his guests were better enabled to separate the natural
expression of his face from the artificial terrors of the war-paint.
They found a strong resemblance between father and son, with the
difference that might be expected from age and hardships. The fierceness
of his countenance now seemed to slumber, and in its place was to be
seen the quiet, vacant composure, which distinguishes an Indian warrior,
when his faculties are not required for any of the greater purposes of
his existence. It was, however, easy to be seen, by the occasional
gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that it was only necessary
to arouse his passions, in order to give full effect to the terrific
device which he had adopted to intimidate his enemies. On the other
hand, the quick, roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank
with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, but his
vigilance seemed never to desert him. Twenty times the gourd or the
venison was suspended before his lips, while his head was turned aside,
as though he listened to some distant and distrusted sounds--a movement
that never failed to recall his guests from regarding the novelties of
their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasons that had
driven them to seek it. As these frequent pauses were never followed by
any remark, the momentary uneasiness they created quickly passed away,
and for a time was forgotten.
"Come, friend," said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg from beneath a cover of
leaves, towards the close of the repast, and addressing the stranger who
sat at his elbow, doing great justice to his culinary skill, "try a
little spruce; 'twill wash away all thoughts of the colt, and quicken
the life in your bosom. I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a
little horse-flesh may leave no heartburnings atween us. How do you name
yourself?"
"Gamut--David Gamut," returned the singing-master, preparing to wash
down his sorrows in a powerful draught of the woodman's high-flavored
and well-laced compound.
"A very good name, and, I dare say, handed down from honest
forefathers. I'm an admirator of names, though the Christian fashions
fall far below savage customs in this particular. The biggest coward I
ever knew was called Lyon; and his wife, Patience, would scold you out
of hearing in less time than a hunted deer would run a rod. With an
Indian 'tis a matter of conscience; what he calls himself, he generally
is--not that Chingachgook, which signifies Big Sarpent, is really a
snake, big or little; but that he understands the windings and turnings
of human natur', and is silent, and strikes his enemies when they least
expect him. What may be your calling?"
"I am an unworthy instructor in the art of psalmody."
"Anan!"
"I teach singing to the youths, of the Connecticut levy."
"You might be better employed. The young hounds go laughing and singing
too much already through the woods, when they ought not to breathe
louder than a fox in his cover. Can you use the smooth bore, or handle
the rifle?"
"Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle with murderous
implements!"
"Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down the water-courses and
mountains of the wilderness on paper, in order that they who follow may
find places by their given names?"
"I practise no such employment."
"You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem short! you
journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the general."
"Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which is
instruction in sacred music!"
"'Tis a strange calling!" muttered Hawkeye, with an inward laugh, "to go
through life, like a catbird, mocking all the ups and downs that may
happen to come out of other men's throats. Well, friend, I suppose it is
your gift, and mustn't be denied any more than if 'twas shooting, or
some other better inclination. Let us hear what you can do in that way;
'twill be a friendly manner of saying good-night, for 'tis time that
these ladies should be getting strength for a hard and a long push, in
the pride of the morning, afore the Maquas are stirring!"
"With joyful pleasure do I consent," said David, adjusting his
iron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his beloved little volume, which
he immediately tendered to Alice. "What can be more fitting and
consolatory, than to offer up evening praise, after a day of such
exceeding jeopardy!"
Alice smiled; but regarding Heyward, she blushed and hesitated.
"Indulge yourself," he whispered: "ought not the suggestion of the
worthy namesake of the Psalmist to have its weight at such a moment?"
Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious inclinations and her
keen relish for gentle sounds, had before so strongly urged. The book
was open at a hymn not ill adapted to their situation, and in which the
poet, no longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired king of
Israel, had discovered some chastened and respectable powers. Cora
betrayed a disposition to support her sister, and the sacred song
proceeded, after the indispensable preliminaries of the pitch-pipe and
the tune had been duly attended to by the methodical David.
The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the fullest compass of
the rich voices of the females, who hung over their little book in holy
excitement, and again it sank so low, that the rushing of the waters ran
through their melody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and
true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit the confined
cavern, every crevice, and cranny of which was filled with the thrilling
notes of their flexible voices. The Indians riveted their eyes on the
rocks, and listened with an attention that seemed to turn them into
stone. But the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an
expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his rigid features
to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron nature
subdued, while his recollection was carried back to boyhood, when his
ears had been accustomed to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the
settlements of the colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before
the hymn was ended, scalding tears rolled out of fountains that had long
seemed dry, and followed each other down those cheeks, that had oftener
felt the storms of heaven than any testimonials of weakness. The singers
were dwelling on one of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours
with such greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose them,
when a cry, that seemed neither human nor earthly, rose in the outward
air, penetrating not only the recesses of the cavern, but to the inmost
hearts of all who heard it. It was followed by a stillness apparently as
deep as if the waters had been checked in their furious progress, at
such a horrid and unusual interruption.
"What is it?" murmured Alice, after a few moments of terrible suspense.
"What is it?" repeated Heyward aloud.
Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. They listened, as if
expecting the sound would be repeated, with a manner that expressed
their own astonishment. At length they spoke together earnestly, in the
Delaware language, when Uncas, passing by the inner and most concealed
aperture, cautiously left the cavern. When he had gone, the scout first
spoke in English.
"What it is, or what it is not, none here can tell; though two of us
have ranged the woods for more than thirty years! I did believe there
was no cry that Indians or beast could make, that my ears had not heard;
but this has proved that I was only a vain and conceited mortal!"
"Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when they wish to
intimidate their enemies?" asked Cora, who stood drawing her veil about
her person, with a calmness to which her agitated sister was a stranger.
"No, no; this was bad, and shocking, and had a sort of unhuman sound;
but when you once hear the war-whoop, you will never mistake it for
anything else! Well, Uncas!" speaking in Delaware to the young chief as
he re-entered, "what see you? do our lights shine through the blankets?"
The answer was short, and apparently decided, being given in the same
tongue.
"There is nothing to be seen without," continued Hawkeye, shaking his
head in discontent; "and our hiding-place is still in darkness! Pass
into the other cave, you that need it, and seek for sleep; we must be
afoot long before the sun, and make the most of our time to get to
Edward, while the Mingos are taking their morning nap."
Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness that taught the
more timid Alice the necessity of obedience. Before leaving the place,
however, she whispered a request to Duncan that he would follow. Uncas
raised the blanket for their passage, and as the sisters turned to thank
him for this act of attention, they saw the scout seated again before
the dying embers, with his face resting on his hands, in a manner which
showed how deeply he brooded on the unaccountable interruption which
had broken up their evening devotions.
Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim light through
the narrow vista of their new apartment. Placing it in a favorable
position, he joined the females, who now found themselves alone with him
for the first time since they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort
Edward.
"Leave us not, Duncan," said Alice; "we cannot sleep in such a place as
this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our ears!"
"First let us examine into the security of your fortress," he answered,
"and then we will speak of rest."
He approached the farther end of the cavern, to an outlet, which, like
the others, was concealed by blankets, and removing the thick screen,
breathed the fresh and reviving air from the cataract. One arm of the
river flowed through a deep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn
in the soft rock, directly beneath his feet, forming an effectual
defence, as he believed, against any danger from that quarter; the
water, a few rods above them, plunging, glancing, and sweeping along, in
its most violent and broken manner.
"Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this side," he continued,
pointing down the perpendicular declivity into the dark current, before
he dropped the blanket; "and as you know that good men and true are on
guard in front, I see no reason why the advice of our honest host should
be disregarded. I am certain Cora will join me in saying that sleep is
necessary to you both."
"Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion, though she cannot put
it in practise," returned the elder sister, who had placed herself by
the side of Alice, on a couch of sassafras; "there would be other causes
to chase away sleep, though we had been spared the shock of this
mysterious noise. Ask yourself, Heyward, can daughters forget the
anxiety a father must endure, whose children lodge, he knows not where
or how, in such a wilderness, and in the midst of so many perils?"
"He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the chances of the woods."
"He is a father, and cannot deny his nature."
"How kind has he ever been to all my follies! how tender and indulgent
to all my wishes!" sobbed Alice. "We have been selfish, sister, in
urging our visit at such hazard!"
"I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of much
embarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that however others might
neglect him in his strait, his children at least were faithful!"
"When he heard of your arrival at Edward," said Heyward, kindly, "there
was a powerful struggle in his bosom between fear and love; though the
latter, heightened, if possible, by so long a separation, quickly
prevailed. 'It is the spirit of my noble-minded Cora that leads them,
Duncan,' he said, 'and I will not balk it. Would to God, that he who
holds the honor of our royal master in his guardianship, would show but
half her firmness!'"
"And did he not speak of me, Heyward?" demanded Alice, with jealous
affection. "Surely, he forgot not altogether his little Elsie?"
"That was impossible," returned the young man; "he called you by a
thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume to use, but to the
justice of which I can warmly testify. Once, indeed, he said--"
Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on those of
Alice, who had turned towards him with the eagerness of filial
affection, to catch his words, the same strong horrid cry, as before,
filled the air, and rendered him mute. A long, breathless silence
succeeded, during which each looked at the others in fearful expectation
of hearing the sound repeated. At length the blanket was slowly raised,
and the scout stood in the aperture with a countenance whose firmness
evidently began to give way, before a mystery that seemed to threaten
some danger, against which all his cunning and experience might prove of
no avail.
| This chapter shows Cooper in his most inventive, dramatic, and descriptive form. His sympathy and admiration for the good Indians ring through his own delineations and the appreciative words of Heyward, Alice, and Cora. By putting the poetic description of the island and falls into the mouth of Hawkeye, he reveals his deep respect for and clear knowledge of nature and at the same time deepens the characterization of the scout, whose sense of justice, relativity, and "place" is again highlighted when he admits that Gamut's "strange calling" is his "gift" and must not be denied. Completing and technically sustaining these developments are the plot elements of suspense and exploration of locale. Preparation for future thematic plot complications is smooth and unobtrusive in Uncas' brief attention to Cora. | analysis |
"\n \"Be gay securely;\n Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous clou(...TRUNCATED) | "In the stillness that follows, Heyward finds it hard to believe what has happened, especially as na(...TRUNCATED) | summary |
"\n \"Be gay securely;\n Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous clou(...TRUNCATED) | "With the woodsmen off the scene of action, this chapter presents the relative ineffectiveness of th(...TRUNCATED) | analysis |
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