University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

The impatience of the savages who lingered about
the prison of Uncas, as has been seen, had overcome
their dread of the conjuror's breath. They stole
cautiously, and with beating hearts, to a crevice,
through which the faint light of the fire was glimmering.
For several minutes, they mistook the form of
David for that of their prisoner; but the very accident
which Hawk-eye had foreseen, occurred. Tired of
keeping the extremities of his long person so near
together, the singer gradually suffered the lower
limbs to extend themselves, until one of his misshapen
feet actually came in contact with, and shoved
aside, the embers of the fire. At first, the Hurons
believed the Delaware had been thus deformed by
witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of being
observed, turned his head, and exposed his simple,
mild countenance, in place of the stern and haughty
lineaments of their prisoner, it would have exceeded
the credulity of even a native to have doubted any
longer. They rushed together into the lodge, and
laying their hands, with but little ceremony, on their

captive, immediately detected the imposition. Then
arose the cry first heard by the fugitives. It was
succeeded by the most frantic and angry demonstrations
of vengeance. David, however firm in his determination
to cover the retreat of his friends, was
now compelled to believe that his own final hour
had come. Deprived of his book and his pipe, he
was fain to trust to a memory that rarely failed him
on such subjects, and breaking forth in a loud and
impassioned strain, he endeavoured to smooth his
passage into the other world, by singing the opening
verse of a funeral anthem. The Indians were seasonably
reminded of his infirmity, and rushing into
the open air, they aroused the village in the manner
described.

A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the
protection of any thing defensive. The sounds of
the alarm were, therefore, hardly uttered, before
two hundred men were afoot, and ready for the battle,
or the chase, as either might be required. The
escape was soon known, and the whole tribe crowded,
in a body, around the council lodge, impatiently
awaiting the instruction of their chiefs. In such a
sudden demand on their wisdom, the presence of
the cunning Magua could scarcely fail of being
needed. His name was mentioned, and all looked
round in wonder, that he did not appear. Messengers
were then despatched to his lodge, requiring his
presence.

In the mean time, some of the swiftest and most
discreet of the young men were ordered to make the
circuit of the clearing, under cover of the woods, in

order to ascertain that their suspected neighbours,
the Delawares, designed no mischief. Women and
children ran to and fro; and, in short, the whole
encampment exhibited another scene of wild and
savage confusion. Gradually, however, these symptoms
of disorder diminished, and in a few minutes
the oldest and most distinguished chiefs were assembled
in the lodge, in grave consultation.

The clamour of many voices soon announced that
a party approached, who might be expected to communicate
some intelligence that would explain the
mystery of the novel surprise. The crowd without
gave way, and several warriors entered the place,
bringing with them the hapless conjuror, who had
been left so long by the scout in such a painful duresse.

Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal
estimation among the Hurons, some believing
implicitly in his power, and others deeming him an
impostor, he was now listened to by all, with the
deepest attention. When his brief story was ended,
the father of the sick woman stepped forth, and in a
few pithy expressions, related, in his turn, what he
knew. These two narratives gave a proper direction
to the subsequent inquiries, which were now made
with the characteristic gravity and cunning of the
savages.

Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly
throng to the cavern, ten of the wisest and firmest
among the chiefs were selected to prosecute the investigation.
As no time was to be lost, the instant
the choice was made, the individuals appointed rose,

in a body, and left the place without speaking. On
reaching the entrance, the younger men in advance
made way for their seniors, and the whole proceeded
along the low, dark gallery, with the firmness of
warriors ready to devote themselves to the public
good, though, at the same time, secretly doubting the
nature of the power with which they were about to
contend.

The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and
gloomy. The woman lay in her usual place and
posture, though there were those present who had
just affirmed they had seen her borne to the woods,
by supposed “medicine of the white men.” Such
a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale related
by the father, caused all eyes to be turned on
him. Chafed by the silent imputation, and inwardly
troubled by so unaccountable a circumstance, the
chief advanced to the side of the bed, and stooping,
cast an incredulous look at the features, as if still
distrusting their reality. His daughter was dead.

The unerring feeling of nature for a moment prevailed,
and the old warrior hid his eyes in sorrow.
Then recovering his self-possession, he faced his
companions, and pointing towards the corpse, he
said, in the language of his people—

“The wife of my young man has left us! the
Great Spirit is angry with his children.”

The mournful intelligence was received in solemn
silence. After a short pause, one of the elder Indians
was about to speak, when a dark looking object
was seen rolling out of an adjoining apartment,
into the very centre of the room where they stood.

Ignorant of the nature of the beings they had to deal
with, the whole party drew back a little, and gazed in
admiration, until the object fronted the light, and rising
frightfully on end, exhibited the distorted, but
still fierce and sullen, features of Magua. The discovery
was succeeded by a loud and general exclamation
of amazement.

As soon, however, as the true situation of the
chief was understood, several ready knives appeared,
and his limbs and tongue were quickly released.
The Huron arose, and shook himself like a lion
quitting his lair. Not a word escaped him, though
his hand played convulsively with the handle of his
knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole
party, as if they sought an object suited to the first
burst of his vengeance.

It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even
David, that they were all beyond the reach of his
arm at such a moment, for assuredly, no refinement
in cruelty would then have deferred their deaths, in
opposition to the promptings of the fierce temper
that nearly choked him. Meeting every where faces
that he knew as friends, the savage grated his teeth
together, like rasps of iron, and swallowed his passion,
for want of a victim on whom to vent it. This
exhibition of anger was keenly noted by all present,
and from an apprehension of exasperating a temper
that was already chafed nearly to madness, several
minutes were suffered to pass before another word
was uttered. When, however, suitable time had
elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.

`My friend has found an enemy!” he said. “Is
he nigh, that the Hurons may take revenge!”

“Let the Delaware die!” exclaimed Magua, in a
voice of thunder.

Another long and expressive silence was observed,
and was broken, as before, with due precaution,
by the same individual.

“The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far,” he
said; “but my young men are on his trail.”

“Is he gone?” demanded Magua, in tones so
deep and guttural, that they seemed to proceed from
his inmost chest.

“An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware
has blinded our eyes.”

“An evil spirit!” repeated the other, bitterly;
“'tis the spirit that has taken the lives of so many
Hurons. The spirit that slew my young men at `the
tumbling river;' that took their scalps at the `healing
spring;' and who has, now, bound the arms of le Renard
Subtil!”

“Of whom does my friend speak?”

“Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of
a Huron under a pale skin—la Longue Carabine.”

The pronunciation of so terrible a name, produced
the usual effect among his auditors. But when time
was given for reflection, and the warriors remembered
that their formidable and daring enemy had
even been in the bosom of their encampment, working
injury, fearful rage took the place of wonder,
and all those fierce passions with which the bosom of
Magua had just been struggling, were suddenly
transferred to his companions. Some among them
gnashed their teeth in anger, others vented their
feelings in yells, and some, again, beat the air as fran

tically, as if the object of their resentment was suffering
under their blows. But this sudden outbreaking
of temper, as quickly subsided in the still and
sullen restraint they most affected in their moments
of inaction.

Magua, who had, in his turn, found leisure for a
little reflection, now changed his manner, and assumed
the air of one who knew how to think and act
with a dignity worthy of so grave a subject.

“Let us go to my people,” he said; “they wait
for us.”

His companions consented, in silence, and the
whole of the savage party left the cavern, and returned
to the council lodge. When they were seated,
all their eyes turned on Magua, who understood,
from such an indication, that, by common consent,
they had devolved the duty of relating what had passed,
on him. He arose, and told his tale, without duplicity
or reservation. The whole deception practised
by both Duncan and Hawk-eye, was, of course,
laid naked; and no room was found, even for the
most superstitious of the tribe, any longer to affix a
doubt on the character of the occurrences. It was
but too apparent, that they had been insultingly,
shamefully, disgracefully, deceived. When he had
ended, and resumed his seat, the collected tribe—for
his auditors, in substance, included all the fighting
men of the party—sate regarding each other like
men astonished equally at the audacity and the success
of their enemies. The next consideration, however,
was the means and opportunities for revenge.

Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the

fugitives; and then the chiefs applied themselves in
earnest to the business of consultation. Many different
expedients were proposed by the elder warriors,
in succession, to all of which Magua was a silent and
respectful listener. That subtle savage had recovered
his artifice and self-command, and now proceeded
towards his object with his customary caution and
skill. It was only when each one disposed to speak
had uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to advance
his own opinions. They were given with additional
weight, from the circumstance, that some of
the runners had already returned, and reported, that
their enemies had been traced so far, as to leave no
doubt of their having sought safety in the neighbouring
camp of their suspected allies, the Delawares. With
the advantage of possessing this important intelligence,
the chief warily laid his plans before his fellows,
and, as might have been anticipated from his
eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without
a dissenting voice. They were, briefly, as follows,
both in opinions and in motives.

It has been already stated, that in obedience to a
policy rarely departed from, the sisters were separated
so soon as they reached the Huron village.
Magua had early discovered, that in retaining the
person of Alice, he possessed the most effectual
check on Cora. When they parted, therefore, he
kept the former within reach of his hand, consigning
the one he most valued to the keeping of their allies.
The arrangement was understood to be merely temporary,
and was made as much with a view to flatter

his neighbours, as in obedience to the invariable rule
of Indian policy.

While goaded, incessantly, by those revengeful
impulses that in a savage seldom slumber, the chief
was still attentive to his more permanent, personal
interests. The follies and disloyalty committed in
his youth, were to be expiated by a long and painful
penance, ere he could be restored to the full enjoyment
of the confidence of his ancient people; and
without confidence, there could be no authority in an
Indian tribe. In this delicate and arduous situation,
the crafty native had neglected no means of increasing
his influence; and one of the happiest of his
expedients, had been the success with which he had
cultivated the favour of their powerful and most
dangerous neighbour. The result of his experiments
had answered all the expectations of his policy—for
the Hurons were in no degree exempt from that
governing principle of our nature, which induces
man to value his gifts precisely in the degree that
they are appreciated by others.

But while he was making this ostensible sacrifice
to general considerations, Magua never lost sight of
his individual motives. The latter had been frustrated
by the unlooked-for events, which had thus, at a
single blow, placed all his prisoners beyond his control,
and he now found himself reduced to the necessity
of suing for favours to those whom it had
so lately been his policy to oblige.

Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and
treacherous schemes to surprise the Delawares, and
by gaining possession of their camp, to recover their

prisoners by the same blow; for all agreed that their
honour, their interests, and the peace and happiness
of their dead countrymen, imperiously required
them speedily to immolate some victims to their revenge.
But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of
such doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in
defeating. He exposed their risque and fallacy
with his usual skill; and it was only after he had removed
every impediment, in the shape of opposing
advice, that he ventured to propose his own projects.

He commenced by flattering the self-love of his
auditors; a never-failing method of commanding attention.
When he had enumerated the many different
occasions on which the Hurons had exhibited
their courage and prowess, in the punishment of insults,
he digressed in a high encomium on the virtue
of wisdom. He painted the quality, as forming the
great point of difference between the beaver and
other brutes; between brutes and men; and, finally,
between the Hurons, in particular, and the rest of
the human race. After he had sufficiently extolled
the property of discretion, he undertook to exhibit
in what manner its use was applicable to the present
situation of their tribe. On the one hand, he said,
was their great pale father, the governor of the Canadas,
who had looked upon his children with a hard
eye, since their tomahawks had been so red; on the
other, a people as numerous as themselves, who
spoke a different language, possessed different interests,
and loved them not, and who would be glad of
any pretence to bring them in disgrace with the great

white chief. Then he spoke of their necessities;
of the gifts they had a right to expect for their past
services; of their distance from their proper hunting
grounds and native villages; and of the necessity of
consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in
such critical circumstances. When he perceived,
that, while the old men applauded his moderation,
many of the fiercest and most distinguished of the
warriors listened to these politic plans with lowering
looks, he cunningly led them back to the subject
which they most loved. He spoke openly of the fruits
of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would
be a complete and final triumph over their enemies.
He even darkly hinted that their success might be extended,
with proper caution, in such a manner, as
to include the destruction of all whom they had reason
to hate. In short, he so blended the warlike with
the artful, as to flatter the propensities of both parties,
and to leave to each subject for hope, while neither
could say, it clearly comprehended his intentions.

The orator, or the politician, who can produce
such a state of things, is commonly popular with his
contemporaries, however he may be treated by posterity.
All perceived that more was meant than
was uttered, and each one believed that the hidden
meaning was precisely such as his own faculties enabled
him to anticipate.

In this happy state of things, it is not surprising
that the management of Magua prevailed. The
tribe consented to act with deliberation, and with
one voice they committed the direction of the whole

affair to the government of the chief, who had suggested
such wise and intelligible expedients.

Magua had now attained one great object of all
his cunning and enterprise. The ground he had
lost in the favour of his people was completely regained,
and he found himself even placed at the head
of affairs. He was, in truth, their ruler; and so
long as he could maintain his popularity, no monarch
could be more despotic, especially while the
tribe continued in a hostile country. Throwing off,
therefore, the appearance of consultation, he assumed
the grave air of authority, necessary to support
the dignity of his office.

Runners were despatched for intelligence, in different
directions; spies were ordered to approach
and feel the encampment of the Delawares; the
warriors were dismissed to their lodges, with an intimation
that their services would soon be needed; and
the women and children were ordered to retire, with
a warning, that it was their province to be silent.
When these several arrangements were made, Magua
passed through the village, stopping here and
there, to pay a visit where he thought his presence
might be flattering to the individual. He confirmed
his friends in their confidence; fixed the wavering;
and gratified all. Then he sought his own lodge.
The wife the Huron chief had abandoned, when he
was chased from among his people, was dead. Children
he had none; and he now occupied a hut, without
companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the dilapidated
and solitary structure in which David had
been discovered, and whom he had tolerated in his

presence, on those few occasions when they met,
with the contemptuous indifference of a haughty superiority.

Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labours of
policy were ended. While others slept, however,
he neither knew nor sought any repose. Had there
been one sufficiently curious to have watched the
movements of the newly elected chief, he would
have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge,
musing on the subject of his future plans, from the
hour of his retirement, to the time he had appointed
for the warriors to assemble again. Occasionally, the
air breathed through the crevices of the hut, and
the low flame that fluttered about the embers of
the fire, threw their wavering light on the person of
the sullen recluse. At such moments, it would not
have been difficult to have fancied the dusky savage
the Prince of Darkness, brooding on his own fancied
wrongs, and plotting evil.

Long before the day dawned, however, warrior
after warrior entered the solitary hut of Magua,
until they had collected to the number of twenty.
Each bore his rifle, and all the other accoutrements of
war; though the paint was uniformly peaceful. The
entrance of these fierce looking beings was unnoticed;
some seating themselves in the shadows of
the place, and others standing like motionless statues,
in profound silence, until the whole of the designated
band was collected.

Then Magua arose, and gave the signal to proceed,
marching himself in advance. They followed
their leader singly, and in that well known order,

which has obtained the distinguishing appellation of
“Indian file.” Unlike other men engaged in the
spirit-stirring business of war, they stole from their
camp, unostentatiously and unobserved, resembling a
band of gliding spectres, more than warriors seeking
the bubble reputation by deeds of desperate daring.

Instead of taking the path which led directly towards
the camp of the Delawares, Magua led his
party for some distance down the windings of the
stream, and along the little artificial lake of the beavers.
The day began to dawn as they entered the
clearing, which had been formed by those sagacious
and industrious animals. Though Magua, who had
resumed his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox,
on the dressed skin which formed his robe, there was
one chief of his party, who carried the beaver as his
peculiar symbol, or “totem.” There would have
been a species of profanity in the omission, had this
man passed so powerful a community of his fancied
kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his regard.
Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as
kind and friendly, as if he were addressing more intelligent
beings. He called the animals his cousins, and
reminded them that his protecting influence was the
reason they remained unharmed, while so many avaricious
traders were prompting the Indians to take
their lives. He promised a continuance of his favours,
and admonished them to be grateful. After
which, he spoke of the expedition in which he
was himself engaged, and intimated, though with
sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency

of bestowing on their relative a portion of
that wisdom for which they were so renowned.

During the utterance of this extraordinary address,
the companions of the speaker were as grave and as
attentive to his language, as though they were all
equally impressed with its propriety. Once or
twice black objects were seen rising to the surface
of the water, and the Huron expressed pleasure,
conceiving that his words were not bestowed in vain.
Just as he had ended his address, the head of a large
beaver was thrust from the door of a lodge, whose
earthen walls had been much injured, and which
the party had believed, from its situation, was uninhabited.
Such an extraordinary sign of confidence
was received by the orator as a highly favourable
omen; and, though the animal retreated a little precipitately,
he was lavish of his thanks and commendations.

When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost,
in gratifying the family affection of the warrior, he
again made the signal to proceed. As the Indians
moved away in a body, and with a step that would
have been inaudible to the ears of any common man,
the same venerable looking beaver once more ventured
his head from its cover. Had any of the
Hurons turned to look behind them, they would
have seen the animal watching their movements with
an interest and sagacity that might easily have been
mistaken for reason. Indeed, so very distinct and
intelligible were the devices of the quadruped,
that even the most experienced observer would
have been at a loss to account for its actions, until

the moment when the party entered the forest, when
the whole would have been explained, by seeing the
entire animal issue from the lodge, uncasing, by the
act, the grave and attentive features of Chingachgook
from his mask of fur.