University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

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 you big
pine, I pulled as it might be on the scent; but
'twouldn't do! and yet for a reasoning aim, if any
body 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 every body 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 creatur leaped the longer for it. A
rifle bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks
him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse;
that is, it quickens motion, and puts life into the flesh,
instead of taking it away. But when it cuts the ragged
hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly,
a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be
it deer!”

“We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!”

“Is life grievous to you?” interrupted the scout.
“Yonder red devil would draw you within swing of
the tomahawks of his comrades, before you were
heated in the chase. It was an unthoughtful act, in
a man who has so often slept with the war-hoop
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's sun-down.”

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 all human aid,
his unresisting companions would soon lay at the entire
mercy of their 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 neverceasing
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-colour, while
the embedded stream which glided past the spot where
he stood, was to be traced only by the dark boundary
of its wooded banks.

“What is then 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 senior.
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 groupe, 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 harbouring place for ever. If
you would save these tender blossoms from the fangs
of the worst of sarpents, 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 wisedom
to carcumvent 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 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 their 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
his expressive gestures than by any use of words.

“What to do with these dumb creaturs!” muttered
the white man, on whom the sole control of
their future movements appeared to devolve; “it
would be time lost to cut their throats, and cast them

into the river; and to leave them here, would be to
tell the Mingoes that they have not far to seek to
find their owners!”

“Then give them their bridles, and let them range
the woods!” Heyward ventured to suggest.

“No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and
make them believe they must equal a horse's speed
to run down their chase. Ay, ay, that will blind their
fire-balls of eyes! Chingach—Hist! what stirs the
bush?”

“The colt.”

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

“Hold!” exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned
animal, aloud, without regard to the whispering
tones used by the others; “spare the foal of Miriam!
it is a 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 not 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 motion 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 down 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
mean time, the scout drew a canoe of bark from its
place of concealment beneath some low bushes,
whose branches were waving with the eddyings of the
current, into which he silently motioned 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 living 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 approaching
foes, he would deliberately resume his slow and
guarded progress. At length they reached a point in
the river, where the roving eye of Heyward became
riveted on a cluster of black objects, which had 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 increased
security, as they gazed upon its romantic, though not
unappalling beauties. A general movement among
their conductors, however, soon recalled them from
a contemplation of the wild charms that night
had assisted to lend the place, to a painful sense of
their real peril.

The horses had been secured to some scattering
shrubs that grew in the fissures of the rocks, where,
standing in the water, they were left to pass the night.
The scout directed Heyward and his disconsolate
fellow 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 anxious 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, and
their eyes glanced over a confused mass of the murmuring
element—so swift was the passage between it and
their little vessel. A long, a vigorous, and, as it
appeared to the females, a desperate effort, closed the
scene. 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 upsets, and you

should go down again the hard road we have travelled,
faster than you came up it; '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 any thing of those you
call the Iroquois on the main land?”

“I call them Iroquois, because to me every native,
who speaks a foreign tongue, is accounted an enemy,
though he may pretend to serve the king! If Webb

wants faith and honesty in a 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
outlandish Frenchmen!”

“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 and Iroquois, who
carcumvented them by their deviltries into such a
treaty! But I have known them for twenty years, and
will 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 of his tribe be in Canada or be in 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,
adroitly changed the subject.

“Treaty or no treaty, I know full well, that your
two companions are brave and cautious warriors! have
they then heard or seen any thing of our enemies?”

“An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,”
returned the scout, ascending the rock, and throwing
the deer carelessly down. “I trust to other signs
than such as come in at the eye, when I am outlying
on the trail of the Mingoes.”

“Do your ears tell you that they have traced our
retreat?”

“I should be sorry to think they had, though this
is a spot that stout courage might hold for a smart
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, uttering
less equivocal sounds; “thy foal was foreordained to
become a prey to ravenous beasts!” Then suddenly
lifting his voice amid the eternal din of the waters, he
sang aloud—

“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 wont be
long afore he submits to the rationality of killing a
four-footed beast, to save the lives of human men. It
may be as you say,” he continued, reverting to the purport
of Heyward's last remark; “and the greater the
reason why we should cut our steaks, and let the carcass
drive down the stream, or we shall have the pack

howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful
we swallow. Besides, though the Delaware tongue is
the same as a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets
are quick enough at understanding the reason of
a wolf's howl.”

The scout, whilst making his remarks, was busied
in collecting certain necessary implements; as he
concluded, he moved silently by the groupe 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.