The last of the Mohicans a narrative of 1757 |
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 | CHAPTER VIII. The last of the Mohicans |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
“Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be,
give it me, for I am slow of study.
Quince.
You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.”
Midsummer's Night Dream.
There was a strange blending of the ridiculous,
with that which was solemn, in this scene. The
beast still continued its rolling, and apparently untiring,
movements, though its ludicrous attempt to
imitate the melody of David ceased the instant the
latter abandoned the field. The words of Gamut
were, as has been seen, in his native tongue; and to
Duncan they seemed pregnant with some hidden
meaning, though nothing present assisted him in discovering
the object of their allusion. A speedy end
was, however, put to every conjecture on the subject,
by the manner of the chief, who advanced to the bedside
of the invalid, and beckoned away the whole
groupe of female attendants, that had clustered there,
in lively curiosity, to witness the skill of the stranger.
He was implicitly, though reluctantly, obeyed; and
when the low echo which rang along the hollow,
natural gallery, from the distant closing door, had
ceased, pointing towards his insensible daughter, he
said—
“Now let my brother show his power.”
Thus unequivocally called on to exercise the functions
of his assumed character, Heyward was apprehensive
that the smallest delay might prove dangerous.
Endeavouring then to collect his ideas, he
prepared to commence that species of incantation,
and those uncouth rites, under which the Indian
conjurers are accustomed to conceal their actual ignorance
and impotency. It is more than probable,
that in the disordered state of his thoughts, he would
soon have fallen into some suspicious, if not fatal
error, had not his incipient attempts been interrupted
by a fierce growl from the quadruped. Three
several times did he renew his efforts to proceed, and
as often was he met by the same unaccountable opposition,
each interruption seeming more savage and
threatening than the preceding.
“The cunning ones are jealous,” said the Huron;
“I go. Brother, the woman is the wife of one of my
bravest young men; deal justly by her. Peace,”
he added, beckoning to the discontented beast to be
quiet; “I go.”
The chief was instantly as good as his word, and
Duncan now found himself alone in that wild and
desolate abode, with the helpless invalid, and the
fierce and dangerous brute. The latter listened
to the movements of the Indian, with that air of sagacity
that a bear is known to possess, until another
echo announced that he had also left the cavern,
when it turned and came waddling up to Duncan,
before whom it seated itself, in its natural attitude,
erect like a man. The youth looked anxiously
about him for some weapon, with which he might
the attack he now seriously expected.
It seemed, however, as if the humour of the animal
had suddenly changed. Instead of continuing its
discontented growls, or manifesting any further signs
of anger, the whole of its shaggy body shook violently,
as though it were agitated by some strange,
internal, convulsion. The huge and unwieldy talons
pawed stupidly about the grinning muzzle, and while
Heyward kept his eyes riveted on its movements,
with jealous watchfulness, the grim head fell on one
side, and in its place appeared the honest, sturdy
countenance of the scout, who was indulging, from
the bottom of his soul, in his own peculiar expression
of merriment.
“Hist!” said the wary woodsman, interrupting
Heyward's exclamation of surprise; “the varlets
are about the place, and any sounds that are not natural
to witchcraft, would bring them back upon us
in a body!”
“Tell me the meaning of this masquerade; and
why you have attempted so desperate an adventure!”
“Ah! reason and calculation are often outdone
by accident,” returned the scout. “But as a story
should always commence at the beginning, I will tell
you the whole in order. After we parted, I placed
the Commandant and the Sagamore in an old beaver
lodge, where they are safer from the Hurons, than
they would be in the garrison of Edward; for your
high nor-west Indians, not having as yet got the traders
much among them, continue to venerate the
other encampment, as was agreed; have you seen
the lad?”
“To my great grief!—he is captive, and condemned
to die at the rising of the sun.”
“I had misgivings that such would be his fate,”
resumed the scout, in a less confident and joyous
tone. But soon regaining his naturally firm voice, he
continued—“His bad fortune is the true reason of
my being here, for it would never do to abandon
such a boy to the Hurons! A rare time the knaves
would have of it, could they tie the `bounding elk'
and the `longue carabine,' as they call me, to the
same stake! Though why they have given me such
a name, I never knew, there being as little likeness
between the gifts of `kill-deer' and the performance
of one of your real Canada carabynes, as there is between
the natur of a pipe-stone and a flint!”
“Keep to your tale,” said the impatient Heyward;
“we know not at what moment the Hurons
may return.”
“No fear of them. A conjuror must have his
time, like a straggling priest in the settlements. We
are as safe from interruption, as a missionary would
be at the beginning of a two hours discourse. Well,
Uncas and I fell in with a return party of the varlets;
the lad was much too forward for a scout; nay, for
that matter, being of hot blood, he was not so much
to blame; and, after all, one of the Hurons proved a
coward, and in fleeing, led him into an ambushment!”
“And dearly has he paid for the weakness!” exclaimed
Duncan.
The scout significantly passed his hand across his
own throat, and nodded, as if he said, “I comprehend
your meaning.” After which, he continued, in a
more audible, though scarcely more intelligible language—
“After the loss of the boy, I turned upon the Hurons,
as you may judge. There have been skrimmages
atween one or two of their outlyers and myself;
but that is neither here nor there. So, after I
had shot the imps, I got in pretty nigh to the lodges,
without further commotion. Then, what should
luck do in my favour, but lead me to the very spot
where one of the most famous conjurors of the tribe
was dressing himself, as I well knew, for some great
battle with Satan—though why should I call that
luck, which it now seems was an especial ordering
of Providence! So, a judgematical rap, over the
head, stiffened the lying impostor for a time, and
leaving him a bit of walnut for his supper, to prevent
any uproar, and stringing him up atween two saplings,
I made free with his finery, and took the part
of a bear on myself, in order that the operations
might proceed.”
“And admirably did you enact the character! the
animal itself might have been shamed by the representation.”
“Lord, major,” returned the flattered woodsman,
“I should be but a poor scholar, for one who has
studied so long in the wilderness, did I not know
how to set forth the movements and natur of such a
sized painter, I would have embellished a performance,
for you, worth regarding! But it is no such
marvellous feat to exhibit the feats of so dull a beast;
though, for that matter too, a bear may be over
acted! Yes, yes; it is not every imitator that knows
natur may be outdone easier than she is equalled.
But all our work is yet before us! where is the
gentle one?”
“Heaven knows; I have examined every lodge
in the village, without discovering the slightest trace
of her presence in the tribe.”
“You heard what the singer said, as he left us—
`she is at hand, and expects you.' ”
“I have been compelled to believe he alluded to
this unhappy woman.”
“The simpleton was frightened, and blundered
through his message, but he had a deeper meaning.
Here are walls enough to divide whole settlements.
A bear ought to climb; therefore will I take a look
above them. There may be honey-pots hid in these
rocks, and I am a beast, you know, that has a hankering
for the sweets.”
The scout looked behind him, laughing at his own
conceit, while he clambered up the partition, imitating,
as he went, the clumsy motions of the beast he
represented; but the instant the summit was gained,
he made a gesture for silence, and slid down with
the utmost precipitation.
“She is here,” he whispered, “and by that door
you will find her. I would have spoken a word of
comfort to the afflicted soul, but the sight of such a
that matter, major, you are none of the most inviting
yourself, in your paint.”
Duncan, who had already sprung eagerly forward,
drew instantly back, on hearing these discouraging
words.
“Am I then so very revolting?” he demanded,
with an air of manifest chagrin.
“You might not startle a wolf, or turn the Royal
Americans from a charge; but I have seen the time
when you had a better favoured look, major,” returned
the scout, dryly; “your streaked countenances
are not ill judged of by the squaws, but
young women of white blood give the preference to
their own colour. See,” he added, pointing to a
place where the water trickled from a rock, forming
a little crystal spring, before it found an issue
through the adjacent crevices; “you may easily get
rid of the Sagamore's daub, and when you come
back, I will try my hand at a new embellishment.
It's as common for a conjuror to alter his paint, as for
a buck in the settlements to change his finery.”
The deliberate woodsman had little occasion to
hunt for arguments to enforce his advice. He was
yet speaking, when Duncan availed himself of the
water. In a moment, every frightful or offensive
mark was obliterated, and the youth appeared again
in the fine and polished lineaments with which he had
been gifted by nature. Thus prepared for an interview
with his mistress, he took a hasty leave of his
companion, and disappeared through the indicated
passage. The scout witnessed his departure with
complacency, nodding his head after him, and muttering
set about an examination of the state of the larder
among the Hurons—the cavern, among other purposes,
being used as a receptacle for the fruits of
their hunts.
Duncan had no other guide than a distant glimmering
light, which served, however, the office of a
polar star to the lover. By its aid, he was enabled
to enter the haven of his hopes, which was merely
another apartment of the cavern, that had been
solely appropriated to the safe keeping of so important
a prisoner, as a daughter of the commandant
of William Henry. It was profusely strewed with
the plunder of that unlucky fortress. In the midst
of this confusion he found the maiden, pale, anxious,
and terrified, but still lovely. David had prepared
her for such a visit.
“Duncan!” she exclaimed, in a voice that seemed
to tremble at the sounds created by itself.
“Alice!” he answered, leaping carelessly among
trunks, boxes, arms, and furniture, until he stood at
her side.
“I knew, Duncan, that you would never desert
me,” she said, looking up with a momentary glow of
pleasure beaming on her otherwise dejected countenance.
“But you are alone! grateful as it is to be
thus remembered, I could wish to think you are not
entirely alone!”
Duncan, observing that she trembled in a manner
which betrayed an inability to continue standing, gently
induced her to be seated, while he recounted those
leading incidents which it has been our task to record.
Alice listened with breathless interest; and though the
stricken father, taking care, however, not to wound
the self-love of his auditor, the tears ran as freely
down the cheeks of the daughter, as though she had
never wept before. The soothing tenderness of
Duncan, however, soon quieted the first burst of her
emotions, and she then heard him to the close with
undivided attention, if not with composure.
“And now, Alice,” he added, “you will see how
much is still expected of you. By the assistance of
our experienced and invaluable friend, the scout, we
may find our way from this savage people, but you
will have to exert your utmost fortitude. Remember,
that you fly to the arms of your venerable parent,
and how much his happiness, as well as your
own, depends on those exertions.”
“Can I do otherwise for a father who has done so
much for me!”
“And for me too!” continued the youth, gently
pressing the hand he held in both his own.
The look of innocence and surprise which he received,
in return, convinced Duncan of the necessity
of being more explicit.
“This is neither the place nor the occasion to
detain you with selfish wishes, sweet Alice,” he
added; “but what heart loaded like mine would not
wish to cast its burthen! They say misery is the
closest of all ties; our common suffering in your
behalf, left but little to be explained between your
father and myself.”
“And dearest Cora, Duncan; surely Cora was
not forgotten!”
“Not forgotten! no; regretted as woman was
seldom mourned, before. Your venerable father
knew no difference between his children; but I—
Alice, you will not be offended, when I say, that to
me her worth was in a degree obscured—”
“Then you knew not the merit of my sister,” said
Alice, withdrawing her hand; “of you she ever
speaks, as of one who is her dearest friend!”
“I would gladly believe her such,” returned Duncan,
hastily; “I could wish her to be even more;
but with you, Alice, I have the permission of your
father to aspire to a still nearer and dearer tie.”
The maiden trembled violently, and there was an
instant, during which she bent her face aside, yielding
to the emotions common to her sensitive sex; but
they quickly passed away, leaving her completely
mistress of her deportment, if not of her affections.
“Heyward,” she said, looking him full in the eye,
with a touching expression of innocence and dependency,
“give me the sacred presence and the holy
sanction of that parent, before you urge me farther.”
“Though more I should not, less I could not say,”
the youth was about to answer, when he was interrupted
by a light tap on his shoulder. Starting to
his feet, he turned, and confronting the intruder, his
looks fell on the dark form and malignant visage of
Magua. The deep, guttural laugh of the savage,
sounded, at such a moment, to Duncan, like the hellish
taunt of a demon. Had he pursued the sudden
and fierce impulse of the instant, he would have cast
himself on the Huron, and committed their fortunes
of any description, ignorant of what succours his
subtle enemy could command, and charged with the
safety of one who was just then dearer than ever to
his heart, he no sooner entertained, than he abandoned
the desperate intention.
“What is your purpose?” said Alice, meekly
folding her arms on her bosom, and struggling to
conceal an agony of apprehension in behalf of Heyward,
in the usual cold and distant manner with
which she received the visits of her captor.
The exulting Indian had resumed his austere countenance,
though he drew warily back before the menacing
glance of the young man's fiery eye. He regarded
both his captives for a moment with a steady look,
and then stepping aside, he dropped a log of wood
across a door different from that by which Duncan
had entered. The latter now comprehended the
manner of his surprise, and believing himself irretrivably
lost, he drew Alice to his bosom, and
stood prepared to meet a fate which he hardly
regretted, since it was to be suffered in such company.
But Magua meditated no immediate violence.
His first measures were very evidently
taken to secure his new captive; nor did he even
bestow a second glance at the motionless forms
in the centre of the cavern, until he had completely
cut off every hope of retreat through the
private outlet he had himself used. He was watched
in all his movements by Heyward, who however
remained firm, still folding the fragile form of
Alice to his heart, at once too proud and too hopeless
When Magua had effected his object, he approached
his prisoners, and said, in English—
“The pale-faces trap the cunning beavers; but
the red-skins know how to take the Yengeese!”
“Huron, do your worst!” exclaimed the excited
Heyward, forgetful that a double stake was involved
in his life; “you and your vengeance are alike despised.”
“Will the white man speak these words at the
stake?” asked Magua; manifesting, at the same
time, how little faith he had in the other's resolution,
by the sneer that accompanied his words.
“Here; singly to your face,” continued the undaunted
Heyward, “or in the presence of your assembled
nation!”
“Le Renard Subtil is a great chief!” returned
the Indian; “he will go and bring his young men, to
see how bravely a pale-face can laugh at the tortures.”
He turned away while speaking, and was about to
leave the place through the avenue by which Duncan
had approached, when a low, menacing growl, caught
his ear, and caused him to hesitate. The figure of the
bear appeared in the door, where it sate rolling from
side to side, in its customary restlessness. Magua,
like the father of the sick woman, eyed it keenly for a
moment, as if to ascertain its character. He was far
above the more vulgar superstitions of his tribe, and
so soon as he recognised the well known attire of the
conjuror, he prepared to pass it in cool contempt. But
a louder and more threatening growl caused him again
to pause. Then he seemed as if suddenly resolved to
The mimic animal, which had advanced a little, retired
slowly in his front, until it arrived again at the
pass, when rearing on its hinder legs, it beat the air
with its paws, in the manner practised by its more
brutal prototype.
“Fool!” exclaimed the chief, in Huron, “go play
with the children and squaws; leave men to their
wisdom.”
He once more endeavoured to pass the supposed
empyric, scorning even the parade of threatening to
use the keen knife, or glittering tomahawk, that was
pendant from his belt. Suddenly, the beast extended
its arms, or rather legs, and enclosed him in a grasp,
that might have vied with the far-famed power of the
“bear's hug” itself. Heyward had watched the
whole procedure, on the part of Hawk-eye, with
breathless interest. At first he relinquished his hold
of Alice; then he caught up a thong of buckskin,
which had been used around some bundle, and
when he beheld his enemy with his two arms pinned
to his side, by the iron muscles of the scout, he
rushed upon him, and effectually secured them there.
Arms, legs, and feet, were encirled in twenty folds of
the thong, in less time than we have taken to record
the circumstance. When the formidable Huron
was completely pinioned, the scout released his
hold, and Duncan laid his enemy on his back, utterly
helpless.
Throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordinary
operation, Magua, though he had struggled
violently, until assured he was in the hands of one
had not uttered the slightest exclamation. But when
Hawk-eye, by way of making a summary explanation
of his conduct, removed the shaggy jaws of
the beast, and exposed his own rugged and earnest
countenance to the gaze of the Huron, the philosophy
of the latter was so far mastered, as to permit
him to utter the never-failing—
“Hugh!”
“Ay! you've found your tongue!” said his undisturbed
conqueror; “now, in order that you shall
not use it to our ruin, I must make free to stop your
mouth.”
As there was no time to be lost, the scout immediately
set about effecting so necessary a precaution;
and when he had gagged the Indian, his enemy
might safely have been considered as “hors de combat.”
“By what place did the imp enter?” asked the industrious
scout, when his work was ended. “Not
a soul has passed my way since you left me.”
Duncan pointed out the door by which Magua
had come, and which now presented too many obstacles
to a quick retreat.
“Bring on the gentle one then,” continued his
friend; “we must make a push for the woods by the
other outlet.”
“ 'Tis impossible!” said Duncan; “fear has overcome
her, and she is helpless. Alice! my sweet,
my own Alice, arouse yourself; now is the moment
to fly. 'Tis in vain! she hears, but is unable to
and leave me to my fate!”
“Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings
its lesson!” returned the scout. “There, wrap her
in them Indian cloths. Conceal all of her little
form. Nay, that foot has no fellow in the wilderness;
it will betray her. All, every part. Now
take her in your arms, and follow. Leave the rest
to me.”
Duncan, as may be gathered from the words of his
companion, was eagerly obeying; and as the other
finished speaking, he took the light person of Alice
in his arms, and followed on the footsteps of the
scout. They found the sick woman as they had left
her, still alone, and passed swiftly on, by the natural
gallery, to the place of entrance. As they approached
the little door of bark, a murmur of voices
without announced that the friends and relatives
of the invalid were gathered about the place, patiently
awaiting a summons to re-enter.
“If I open my lips to speak,” Hawk-eye whispered,
“my English, which is the genuine tongue of a
white-skin, will tell the varlets that an enemy is
among them. You must give 'em your jargon, major;
and say, that we have shut the evil spirit in the
cave, and are taking the woman to the woods, in
order to find strengthening roots. Practyse all your
cunning, for it is a lawful undertaking.”
The door opened a little, as if one without was
listening to the proceedings within, and compelled
the scout to cease his directions. A fierce growl
instantly repelled the eves-dropper, and then the
left the place, enacting the character of the bear as
he proceeded. Duncan kept close at his heels, and
soon found himself in the centre of a cluster of twenty
anxious relatives and friends.
The crowd fell back a little, and permitted the
father, and one who appeared to be the husband of
the woman, to approach.
“Has my brother driven away the evil spirit?”
demanded the former. “What has he in his arms?”
“Thy child,” returned Duncan, gravely; “the
disease has gone out of her; it is shut up in the
rocks. I take the woman to a distance, where I will
strengthen her against any further attacks. She
shall be in the wigwam of the young man when the
sun comes again.”
When the father had translated the meaning of the
stranger's words into the Huron language, a suppressed
murmur announced the satisfaction with
which this intelligence was received. The chief himself
waved his hand for Duncan to proceed, saying
aloud, in a firm voice, and with a lofty manner—
“Go—I am a man, and I will enter the rock and
fight the wicked one!”
Heyward had gladly obeyed, and was already past
the little groupe, when these startling words arrested
him.
“Is my brother mad!” he exclaimed; “is he
cruel! He will meet the disease, and it will enter
him; or he will drive out the disease, and it will
chase his daughter into the woods. No—let my
children wait without, and if the spirit appears, beat
himself in the mountain, therefore, when he sees
how many are prepared to fight him.”
This singular warning had the desired effect. Instead
of entering the cavern, the father and husband
drew their tomahawks, and posted themselves in
readiness to deal their vengeance on the imaginary
tormentor of their sick relative, while the women
and children broke branches from the bushes, or
seized fragments of the rock, with a similar intention.
At this favourable moment the counterfeit conjurors
disappeared.
Hawk-eye, at the same time that he had presumed
so far on the nature of the Indian superstitions,
was not ignorant that they were rather tolerated
than relied on by the wisest of the chiefs. He well
knew the value of time in the present emergency.
Whatever might be the extent of the self-delusion of
his enemies, and however it had tended to assist his
schemes, the slightest cause of suspicion, acting on
the subtle nature of an Indian, would be likely to
prove fatal. Taking the path, therefore, that was most
likely to avoid observation, he rather skirted than entered
the village. The warriors were still to be seen
in the distance, by the fading light of the fires, stalking
from lodge to lodge. But the children had abandoned
their sports for their beds of skins, and the quiet of
night was already beginning to prevail over the
turbulence and excitement of so busy and important
an evening.
Alice revived under the renovating influence of
the open air, and as her physical rather than her
she stood in no need of any explanation of that which
had occurred.
“Now let me make an effort to walk,” she said,
when they had entered the forest, blushing, though
unseen, that she had not been sooner able to quit the
arms of Duncan; “I am, indeed, restored.”
“Nay, Alice, you are yet too weak.”
The maiden struggled gently to release herself,
and the reluctant Heyward was compelled to part
with his precious burthen. The representative of
the bear had certainly been an entire stranger to the
delicious emotions of the lover, while his arms encircled
his mistress, and he was, perhaps, a stranger
also to the nature of that feeling of ingenuous shame,
that oppressed the trembling Alice, as they had made
such diligent progress in their flight. But when he
found himself at a suitable distance from the lodges,
he made a halt, and spoke on a subject of which he
was throughly the master.
“This path will lead you to the brook,” he said;
“follow its northern bank until you come to a fall;
mount the hill on your right, and you will see the
fires of the other people. There you must go, and
demand protection; if they are true Delawares, you
will be safe. A distant flight with that gentle one,
just now, is impossible. The Hurons would follow up
our trail, and master our scalps, before we had got a
dozen miles. Go, and Providence be with you.”
“And you!” demanded Heyward, in surprise;
“surely we part not here!”
“The Hurons hold the pride of the Delawares;
power!” returned the scout; “I go to see what can
be done in his favour. Had they mastered your
scalp, major, a knave should have fallen for every
hair it held, as I promised; but if the young Sagamore
is to be led to the stake, the Indians shall see
also how a man without a cross can die!”
Not in the least offended with the decided preference
that the sturdy woodsman gave to one who
might, in some degree, be called the child of his
adoption, Duncan still continued to urge such reasons
against so desperate an effort, as presented
themselves. He was aided by Alice, who mingled
her entreaties with those of Heyward, that he would
abandon a resolution that promised so much danger,
with such little hopes of success. Their eloquence
and ingenuity were expended in vain. The scout
heard them attentively, but impatiently, and finally
closed the discussion, by answering, in a tone that
instantly silenced Alice, while it told Heyward how
fruitless any further remonstrances would be.
“I have heard,” he said, “that there is a feeling
in youth, which binds man to woman, closer than
the father is tied to the son. It may be so. I
have seldom been where women of my colour dwell;
but such may be the gifts of natur in the settlements!
You have risked life, and all that is dear to you, to
bring off this gentle one, and I suppose that some
such disposition is at the bottom of it all. As for me,
I taught the lad the real character of a rifle; and
well has he paid me for it! I have fou't at his side
in many a bloody skrimmage; and so long as I could
the Sagamore in the other, I knew no enemy was on
my back. Winters and summers, nights and days,
have we roved the wilderness in company, eating of
the same dish, one sleeping while the other watched;
and afore it shall be said that Uncas was taken to the
torment, and I at hand—There is but a single Ruler
of us all, whatever may be the colour of the skin;
and him I call to witness—that before the Mohican
boy shall perish for the want of a friend, good faith
shall depart the 'arth, and `kill-deer' become as
harmless as the tooting we'pon of the singer!”
Duncan released his hold on the arm of the scout,
who turned, and steadily retraced his steps towards
the lodges. After pausing a moment to gaze at his
retiring form, the successful and yet sorrowful Heyward,
and his mistress, took their way together towards
the distant village of the Delawares.
| CHAPTER VIII. The last of the Mohicans | |