University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

“'Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for
our good, to lie hid any longer,” said Hawk-eye,
“when such sounds are raised in the forest! These
gentle ones may keep close, but the Mohicans and I
will watch upon the rock, where I suppose a major
of the 60th would wish to keep us company.”

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

“He who makes strange sounds, and gives them
out for man's information, alone knows our danger. I
should think myself wicked unto rebellion against his
will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air!
Even the weak soul, who passes his days in singing,
is stirred by the cry, and, as he says, is `ready to go
forth to the battle.' If'twere only a battle, it would
be a thing understood by us all, and easily managed;
but I have heard that when such shrieks are atween
heaven and 'arth, it betokens another sort of warfare!”

“If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confirmed
to such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have

but little occasion to be alarmed,” continued the undisturbed
maiden; “are you certain that our enemies
have not invented some new and ingenious method
to strike us with terror, that their conquest may
become more easy?”

“Lady,” returned the scout, solemnly, “I have
listened to all the sounds of the woods for thirty
years, as a man will listen, whose life and death depend
so often on the quickness of his ears. There
is no whine of the partner; no whistle of the cat-bird;
nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that
can cheat me! I have heard the forest moan like
mortal men, in their affliction; often, and again, have
I listened to the wind playing its music in the
branches of the girdled trees; and I have heard the
lightning cracking in the air, like the snapping of blazing
brush, as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames;
but never have I thought that I heard more than the
pleasure of him, who sported with the things of his
hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white
man without a cross, can explain the cry just heard.
We, therefore, believe it a sign given for our good.”

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

On issuing from their place of confinement, the
whole party instantly experienced a grateful renovation
of their spirits, by exchanging the pent air of
their hiding place, for the cool and invigorating atmosphere,
which played around the whirlpools and

pitches of the cataract. A heavy evening breeze swept
along the surface of the river, and seemed to drive
the roar of the falls into the recesses of their own caverns,
whence it issued heavily and constant, like
thunder rumbling beyond the distant hills. The moon
had risen, and its light was already glancing here and
there on the waters above them; but the extremity
of the rock where they stood still lay in deep shadow.
With the exception of the sounds produced by
the rushing waters, and an occasional breathing of
the air, as it murmured past them, in fitful currents,
the scene was as still as night and solitude could
make it. In vain were the eyes of each individual
bent along the opposite shores, in quest of some
signs of life, that might explain the nature of the
interruption they had heard. Their anxious and eager
looks were baffled by the deceptive light, or rested
only on naked rocks, or straight and immovable trees.

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

“Listen!” interrupted Alice.

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

“Can any here give a name to such a cry?” demanded

Hawk-eye, when the last echo was lost in the
woods; “if so, let him speak; for myself, I judge it
not to belong to 'arth!”

“Here, then, is one who can undeceive you,” said
Duncan; “I know the sound full well, for often have I
heard it on the field of battle, and in situations which
are frequent in a soldier's life. 'Tis the horrid
shriek that a horse will give in his agony; oftener
drawn from him in pain, though sometimes in his
terror. My charger is either a prey to the beasts of
the forest, or he sees his danger without the power to
avoid it. The sound might deceive me in the cavern,
but in the open air I know I cannot be wrong.”

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

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

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

“We have been like hunters who have lost the
points of the heavens, and from whom the sun has been
hid for days,” said Hawk-eye, turning away from his
companions; “now we begin again to know the signs
of our course, and the paths are cleared from briars!
Seat yourselves in the shade, which the moon throws
from yonder beach—'tis thicker than that of the
pines—and let us wait for that which the Lord may
choose to send next. Let all your conversation be
in whispers; though it would be better, and perhaps,
in the end, wiser, if each one held discourse with his
own thoughts for a time.”

The manner of the scout was seriously impressive,
though no longer distinguished by any signs of
unmanly apprehension. It was evident, that his momentary
weakness had vanished with the explanation
of a mystery, which his own experience had not served
to fathom; and though he now felt all the realities
of their actual condition, that he was prepared to
meet them with the fullest energy of his hardy nature.
This feeling seemed also common to the natives,
who placed themselves in positions which commanded
a full view of both shores, while their own persons
were effectually concealed from observation. In

such circumstances, common prudence dictated that
Heyward, and his companions, should imitate a caution
that proceeded from so intelligent a source. The
young man drew a pile of the sassafras from the cave,
and placing it in the chasm which separated the two
caverns, it was occupied by the sisters; who were thus
protected by the rocks from any missiles, while their
anxiety was relieved by the assurance that no danger
could approach without a warning. Heyward himself
was posted at hand, so near that he might communicate
with his companions without raising his voice
to a dangerous elevation; while David, in imitation
of the woodsmen, bestowed his person in such a manner
among the fissures of the rocks, that his ungainly
limbs were no longer offensive to the eye.

In this manner, hours passed by without further
interruption. The moon reached the zenith, and shed
its mild light, perpendicularly, on the lovely sight of
the sisters, slumbering peacefully in each other's arms.
Duncan cast the wide shawl of Cora before a spectacle
he so much loved to contemplate, and then suffered
his own head to seek a pillow on the rock. David
began to utter sounds that would have shocked his
delicate organs in more wakeful moments; in short, all
but Hawk-eye and the Mohicans lost every idea of
consciousness, in uncontrollable drowsiness. But
the watchfulness of these vigilant protectors, neither
tired nor slumbered. Immovable as that rock, of
which each appeared to form a part, they lay, with
their eyes roving, without intermission, along the
dark margin of trees that bounded the adjacent shores
of the narrow stream. Not a sound escaped them;

the most subtle examination could not have told they
breathed. It was evident, that this excess of caution
proceeded, from an experience, that no subtlety on
the part of their enemies could deceive. It was,
however, continued without any apparent consequences,
until the moon had set, and a pale streak
above the tree tops, at a bend of the river, a little
below, announced the approach of day.

Then, for the first time, Hawk-eye was seen to
stir. He crawled along the rock, and shook Duncan
from his heavy slumbers.

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

“Have you had a quiet night,” said Heyward;
for myself, I believe sleep has gotten the better of
my vigilance.”

“All is yet still as midnight. Be silent, but be
quick.”

By this time Duncan was thoroughly awake, and
he immediately lifted the shawl from the sleeping fair
ones. The motion caused Cora to raise her hand as
if to repulse him, while Alice murmured, in her soft,
gentle voice, “No, no, dear father, we were not deserted;
Duncan was with us.”

“Yes, sweet innocence,” whispered the delighted
youth; “Duncan is here, and while life continue,
or danger remain, he will never quit thee. Cora!
Alice! awake! The hour has come to move!”

A loud shriek from the younger of the sisters, and
the form of the other standing upright before him, in
bewildered horror, was the unexpected answer he received.
While the words were still on the lips of

Heyward, there had arisen such a tumult of yells
and cries, as served to drive the swift currents of his
own youthful blood, back from its bounding course
into the fountains of his heart. It seemed, for near
a minute, as if the demons of hell had possessed
themselves of the air about them, and were venting
their savage humours in barbarous sounds.
The cries came from no particular direction, though
it was evident they filled the woods, and, as the
appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of
the falls, the rocks, the bed of the river, and the
upper air. David raised his tall person in the midst
of the infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming—

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

The bright flashes, and the quick reports of a dozen
rifles, from the opposite banks of the stream, followed
this incautious exposure of his person, and left
the unfortunate singing master, senseless, on that
rock where he had been so long slumbering. The
Mohicans boldly sent back the intimidating yell of
their enemies, who raised a shout of savage triumph
as they witnessed the fall of Gamut. The flash of
rifles was then quick and close between them, but
either party was too well skilled to leave even a
limb exposed to the hostile aim. Duncan listened
with intense anxiety for the strokes of the paddle,
believing that flight was now their only refuge. The
river glanced by with its ordinary velocity, but the
canoe was no where to be seen on its dark waters. He
had just fancied they were cruelly deserted by the

scout, as a stream of flame issued from the rock beneath
him, and a fierce yell, blended with a shriek
of agony, announced that the messenger of death,
hurled from the fatal weapon of Hawk-eye, had
found a victim. At this slight repulse the assailants
instantly withdrew and, gradually, the place became
still as before the sudden tumult.

Duncan seized the favourable moment to spring
to the body of Gamut, which he bore within the
shelter of the narrow chasm that protected the sisters.
In another minute the whole party was collected
in this spot of comparative safety.

“The poor fellow has saved his scalp,” said
Hawk-eye, coolly passing his hand over the head of
David; “but he is a proof that a man may be born
with too long a tongue! 'Twas downright madness
to show six feet of flesh and blood, on a naked rock,
to the raging savages; and I only wonder he has escaped
with life.”

“Is he not dead!” demanded Cora, in a voice
whose husky tones showed how powerfully, natural
horror struggled with her assumed firmness. “Can
we do aught to assist the wretched man?”

“No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he
has slept awhile he will come to himself, and be a
wiser man for it, till the hour of his real time
shall come,” returned Hawk-eye, casting another
oblique glance at the insensible body, while he filled his
charger with admirable nicety. “Carry him in, Uncas,
and lay him on the saxafrax. The longer his nap
lasts the better it will be for him; as I doubt whether
he can find a proper cover for such a shape on these

rocks; and singing won't do any good with the Iroquois.”

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

“Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving
with a mouthful! They have lost a man, and 'tis
their fashion, when they meet a loss, and fail in the
surprise, to fall back; but we shall have them on
again, with new expedients to circumvent us, and
master our scalps. Our main hope,” he continued,
raising his rugged countenance, across which a shade
of anxiety just then passed like a darkening cloud,
“will be to keep the rock until Munro can send a
party to our help! God send it may be soon, and under
a leader that well knows the Indian customs!”

“You hear our probable fortunes, Cora,” said
Duncan; “and you know we have every thing to
hope from the anxiety and experience of your father.
Come, then, with Alice, into this cavern, where you,
at least, will be safe from the murderous rifles of our
enemies, and where you may bestow a care suited
to your gentle natures, on our unfortunate comrade.”

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

“Duncan!” said the tremulous voice of Cora,
when he had reached the mouth of the cavern, immediately
arresting the steps of the youth. He
turned, and beheld the speaker, whose rich colour
had changed to a deadly paleness, and whose lip

quivered with her emotion, gazing after him, with an
expression of interest which immediately recalled
him to her side. “Remember, Duncan, how necessary
your safety is to our own—how you bear a
father's sacred trust—how much depends on your
discretion and care—in short,” she added, while
the tell-tale blood stole over her features, crimsoning
her very temples, “how very deservedly dear you are
to all of the name of Munro.”

“If any thing could add to my own base love of
life,” said Heyward, suffering his unconscious eyes to
wander to the youthful form of the silent Alice; “it
would be so kind an assurance. As major of the 60th,
our honest host will tell you I must take my share of
the fray; but our task will be easy; it is merely to
keep these blood-hounds at bay for a few hours.”

Without waiting for any reply, he tore himself
from the presence of the sisters, and joined the scout
and his companions, who still lay within the protection
of the little chasm, between the two caves.

“I tell you, Uncas,” said the former, as Heyward
joined them, “you are wasteful of your powder,
and the kick of the rifle disconcerts your aim! Little
powder, light lead, and a long arm, seldom fail or
bringing the death screech from a Mingo! At least,
such has been my experience with the creaturs.
Come, friends; let us to our covers, for no man can
tell when or where a Maqua will strike his blow!”

The Indians silently repaired to their appointed
stations, which were fissures in the rocks, whence
they could command the approaches to the foot of the
falls. In the centre of the little island, a few short

and stinted pines had found root, forming a thicket,
into which Hawk-eye darted, with the swiftness of a
deer, followed by the active Duncan. Here they
secured themselves, as well as circumstances would
permit, among the shrubs and fragments of stone that
were scattered about the place. Above them was a
bare, rounded rock, on either side of which the water
played its gambols, and plunged into the abysses beneath,
in the manner already described. As the day
had now dawned, the opposite shores no longer presented
a confused outline, but they were able to look
into the woods, and distinguish objects, beneath the
dark canopy of gloomy pines and bushes.

A long and anxious watch succeeded, but without
any further evidences of a renewed attack,
and Duncan began to hope that their fire had proved
more fatal than was supposed, and that their
enemies had been effectually repulsed. When he
ventured to utter this impression to his companion,
it was met by Hawk-eye with an incredulous shake
of the head, as he answered—

“You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think
he is so easily beaten back, without a scalp! If there
was one of the imps yelling this morning, there were
forty! and they know our number and quality too
well to give up the chase so soon. Hist! look into
the water above, just where it breaks over the rocks.
I am no mortal, if the risky devils haven't swam
down upon the very pitch, and as bad luck would
have it, they have hit the head of the island! Hist!
man, keep close! or the hair will be off your crown
in the turning of a knife!”

Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld
what he justly considered a prodigy of rashness and
skill. The river had worn away the edge of the
soft rock in such a manner, as to render its first pitch
less abrupt and perpendicular, than is usual at waterfalls.
With no other guide than the ripple of the
stream where it met the head of the island, a party
of their insatiable foes had ventured into the current,
and swam down upon this point, knowing the ready
access it would give them, if successful, to their
intended victims. As Hawk-eye ceased speaking,
four human heads could be seen peering above a
few logs of drift wood, that had lodged on these naked
rocks, and which had probably suggested the idea of
the practicability of the hazardous undertaking. At
the next moment, a fifth form was seen floating over
the green edge of the fall, a little from the true line
of the island. The savage struggled powerfully to
gain the point of safety, and favoured by the glancing
water, he was already stretching forth an arm to meet
the grasp of his companions, when he shot away again
with the whirling current, appeared to rise into the
air, with uplifted arms, and starting eye-balls, and then
fell, with a sullen plunge, into that deep and yawning
abyss over which he hovered. A single, wild, despairing
shriek, rose from the cavern, above the dull roar of
the cataract, and all was hushed again as the grave.

The first generous impulse of Duncan, was to rush
to the rescue of the hapless wretch, but he felt himself
bound to the spot, by the iron grasp of the immoveable
scout.

“Would ye bring certain death upon us, by telling

the Mingoes where we lie?” demanded Hawk-eye,
sternly; “'tis a charge of powder saved, and ammunition
is as precious now as breath to a worried deer!
Freshen the priming of your pistols—the mist of the
falls is apt to dampen the brimstone—and stand firm
for a close struggle, while I fire on their rush.”

He placed his finger in his mouth, and drew a long,
shrill whistle, which was answered from the rocks below,
that were guarded by the Mohicans. Duncan
caught glimpses of heads above the scattered
drift wood, as this signal rose on the air, but they
disappeared again as suddenly as they had glanced
upon his sight. A low, rustling sound, next drew his
attention behind him, and turning his head, he beheld
Uncas within a few feet, creeping to his side. Hawk-eye
spoke to him in Delaware, when the young chief
took his position with singular caution, and undisturbed
coolness. To Heyward this was a moment of
feverish and impatient suspense; though the scout
saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read a lecture to
his more youthful associates, on the art of using firearms
with discretion.

“Of all we'pons,” he commenced, “the long barrelled,
true grooved, soft metalled rifle, is the most
dangerous in skillful hands, though it wants a strong
arm, a quick eye, and great judgment in charging, to
put forth all its beauties. The gunsmiths can have
but little insight into their trade, when they make their
fowling-pieces and short horsemens'—”

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

“I see them, boy, I see them!” continued Hawk-eye;

“they are gathering for their rush, or they
would keep their dingy backs below the logs. Well,
let them,” he added, examining his flint; “the leading
man certainly comes on to his death, though it
should be Montcalm himself!”

At that moment the woods were filled with another
burst of cries, and, at the signal, four savages sprang
from the cover of the drift wood. Heyward felt a
burning desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense
was the delirious anxiety of the moment, but he
was restrained by the deliberate examples of the
scout and Uncas. When their foes, who leaped over
the black rocks that divided them, with long bounds,
uttering the wildest yells, were within a few rods,
the rifle of Hawk-eye slowly rose among the shrubs, and
poured out its fatal contents. The foremost Indian
bounded like a stricken deer, and fell headlong among
the clefts of the island.

“Now, Uncas!” cried the scout, drawing his long
knife, while his quick eyes began to flash with ardour,
“take the screeching imp behind; of the other two
we are sartain!”

He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to
be overcome. Heyward had given one of his pistols
to Hawk-eye, and together they rushed down a little
declivity towards their foes; they discharged their
weapons at the same instant, and equally without
success.

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

The words were barely uttered, when he encountered
a savage of gigantic stature, and of the fiercest
mien. At the same moment, Duncan found himself
engaged with the other, in a similar contest of hand
to hand. With ready skill, Hawk-eye and his antagonist
each grasped that uplifted arm of the other,
which held the dangerous knife. For near a minute,
they stood looking one another in the eye, and gradually
exerting the power of their muscles for the
mastery. At length, the toughened sinews of the white
man prevailed over the less practised limbs of the native.
The arm of the latter slowly gave way before
the increasing force of the scout, who suddenly wresting
his armed hand from the grasp of his foe, drove the
sharp weapon through his naked bosom to the heart.
In the meantime, Heyward had been pressed in a
more deadly struggle. His slight sword was snapped
in the first encounter. As he was destitute of any
other means of defence, his safety now depended entirely
on bodily strength and resolution. Though
deficient in neither of these qualities, he had met an
enemy every way his equal. Happily, he soon succeeded
in disarming his adversary, whose knife fell on
the rock at their feet, and from this moment it became
a fierce struggle, who should cast the other over the
dizzy height, into a neighbouring cavern of the falls.
Every successive struggle brought them nearer to the
verge, where Duncan perceived the final and conquering
effort must be made. Each of the combatants
threw all his energies into that effort, and the
result was, that both tottered on the brink of the precipice.
Heyward felt the grasp of the other at his

throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, under
the revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a
fate similar to his own, as he felt his body slowly yielding
to a resistless power, and the young man experienced
the passing agony of such a moment in all its horrors.
At that instant of extreme danger, a dark hand and
glancing knife appeared before him; the Indian released
his hold, as the blood flowed freely from around
the severed tendons of his wrist; and while Duncan
was drawn backward by the saving arm of Uncas, his
charmed eyes were still riveted on the fierce and disappointed
countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly
and disappointed down the irrecoverable precipice.

“To cover! to cover!” cried Hawk-eye, who
just then had despatched his enemy; “to cover, for
your lives! the work is but half ended!”

The young Mohican gave a loud shout of triumph,
and followed by Duncan, he glided up the acclivity
they had descended to the combat, and sought the
friendly shelter of the rocks and shrubs.