Instructor's note: In omitted chapter 31, Uncas led the Delawares in preparations for war (yet another "epic" genre-convention, along with the frequent use of epithets instead of names).
Chapter 32
[32.1]
During the time Uncas was making this disposition of his forces, the woods were
as still, and, with the exception of those who had met in council, apparently as
much untenanted
[empty]
as when they came fresh from the hands of their Almighty
Creator. The eye could range, in every direction, through
the long and shadowed vistas of the
trees; but nowhere was any object to be seen that did not properly belong to
the peaceful and slumbering scenery.
[32.2]
Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the
branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel dropped a nut, drawing the
startled looks of the party for a moment to the place; but the instant the
casual interruption ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring above their
heads, along that verdant and undulating surface of forest, which spread itself
unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over such a vast region of country. Across
the tract of wilderness which lay between the
[32.3]
When he saw his little band collected, the scout
[Hawkeye]
threw "killdeer"
[rifle]
into the hollow of his arm, and making a silent signal that
he would be followed, he led them many rods toward the rear, into the bed of a
little brook which they had crossed in advancing. Here he halted, and after
waiting for the whole of his grave and attentive warriors to close about him, he
spoke in
[32.4]
"Do any of my young men know whither this run
[stream]
will lead us?”
[32.5]
A
[32.6]
"Before the sun could go his own length, the little water will be in the big.”
Then he added, pointing in the direction of the place he mentioned, "the two
make enough for the beavers.”
[32.7]
"I thought as much,” returned the scout, glancing his eye upward at the opening
in the tree-tops, "from the course it takes, and the bearings of the mountains.
Men, we will keep within the cover of its banks till we scent the Hurons.”
[32.8]
His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of assent, but, perceiving that
their leader was about to lead the way in person, one or two made signs that all
was not as it should be. Hawkeye, who comprehended their meaning glances, turned
and perceived that his party had been followed thus far by the singing-master.
[David Gamut, the Ichabod Crane of
Mohicans, who has faithfully served
Cora & Alice in their captivity, transforming from prissy choirmaster to resourceful woodsman]
[32.9]
"Do you know, friend,” asked the scout, gravely, and perhaps with a little of
the pride of conscious deserving in his manner, "that this is a band of rangers
chosen for the most desperate service, and put under the command of one who,
though another might say it with a better face, will not be apt to leave them
idle. It may not be five, it cannot be thirty minutes, before we tread on the
body of a Huron, living or dead.”
[32.10]
"Though not admonished of your intentions in words,”
returned David, whose face was a little flushed, and whose ordinarily quiet and
unmeaning eyes glimmered with an expression of unusual fire, "your
men have reminded me of the children of Jacob going out to battle against the
Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to wedlock with a woman of a race that was
favored of the Lord.*
Now, I have journeyed far, and sojourned much in good and evil with the maiden
ye seek; and, though not a man of war, with my loins girded and my sword
sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a blow in her behalf.”
[32.11]
The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such a strange enlistment in
his mind before he answered:
[32.12]
"You know not the use of any we'pon. You carry no rifle; and believe me, what
the Mingoes take they will freely give again.”
[32.13]
"Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed
Goliath,” returned
David, drawing
a sling from beneath his
parti-colored and uncouth attire,
"I
have not forgotten the example of the Jewish boy.*
With this ancient instrument of war have I practiced much in my youth,
and peradventure the skill has not entirely departed from me.”
[32.14]
"Ay!” said Hawkeye, considering the deer-skin thong and apron, with a cold and
discouraging eye; "the thing might do its work among arrows, or even knives; but
these Mengwe have been furnished by the Frenchers with a good grooved barrel
[rifle]
a man. However, it seems to be your gift to go unharmed amid fire; and as you
have hitherto been favored—major, you have left your rifle at a cock; a single
shot before the time would be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose—singer, you
can follow; we may find use for you in the shoutings.”
[32.15]
"I thank you, friend,” returned
David, supplying himself, like his royal
namesake,
from among the pebbles of the brook;
"though not given to the desire to kill, had you sent me away my spirit would
have been troubled.”
[32.16]
"Remember,” added the scout, tapping his own head significantly on that spot
where Gamut was yet sore, "we come to fight, and not to musickate
[make music]. Until the
general whoop [war-cry, "charge"] is given, nothing speaks but the rifle.”
[32.17]
David nodded, as much to signify his acquiescence with the terms; and then
Hawkeye, casting another observant glance over his followers, made the signal to
proceed.
[32.18]
Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the bed of the water-course.
Though protected from any great danger of observation by the precipitous banks,
and the thick shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution known to an
Indian attack was neglected. A warrior rather crawled than walked on each flank
so as to catch occasional glimpses into the forest; and every few minutes the
band came to a halt, and listened for hostile sounds, with an acuteness of
organs that would be scarcely conceivable to a man in a less natural state.
Their march was, however, unmolested, and they reached the point where the
lesser stream was lost in the greater, without the smallest evidence that their
progress had been noted. Here the scout again halted, to consult the signs of
the forest.
[32.19]
"We are likely to have a good day for a fight,” he said, in English, addressing
Heyward, and glancing his eyes upward at the clouds, which began to move in
broad sheets across the firmament; "a bright sun and a glittering
[rifle]
barrel are no friends to true sight. Everything is favorable; they have the
wind, which will bring down their noises and their smoke, too, no little matter
in itself; whereas, with us it will be first a shot, and then a clear view. But
here is an end to our cover; the beavers have had the range of this stream for
hundreds of years, and what atween their food and their dams, there is, as you
see, many a girdled stub, but few living trees.”
[32.20]
Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no bad
description of the prospect that now lay in their front. The brook was irregular
in its width, sometimes shooting through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at
others spreading over acres of bottom land, forming little areas that might be
termed ponds. Everywhere along its bands were
the moldering relics of dead trees, in
all the stages of decay, from those that groaned on their tottering trunks
to such as had recently been robbed of those rugged coats that so mysteriously
contain their principle of life.
A few
long, low, and moss-covered piles were scattered among them, like the memorials
of a former and long-departed generation.
[gothic stylings]
[32.21]
All these minute particulars were noted by the scout, with a gravity and
interest that they probably had never before attracted. He knew that the Huron
encampment lay a short half mile up the brook; and, with the characteristic
anxiety of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he was greatly troubled at not
finding the smallest trace of the presence of his enemy. Once or twice he felt
induced to give the order for a rush, and to attempt the village by surprise;
but his experience quickly admonished him of the danger of so useless an
experiment. Then he listened intently, and with painful uncertainty, for the
sounds of hostility in the quarter where Uncas was left; but nothing was audible
except the sighing of the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom of the forest
in gusts which threatened a tempest. At length, yielding rather to his unusual
impatience than taking counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring
matters to an issue, by unmasking his force, and proceeding cautiously, but
steadily, up the stream.
[32.22]
The scout had stood, while making his observations,
sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the bed of the ravine,
through which the smaller stream debouched; but on hearing his low, though
intelligible, signal
the whole party
stole up the bank, like so many dark specters, and silently arranged
themselves around him. Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, Hawkeye
advanced, the band breaking off in single files, and following so accurately in
his footsteps, as to leave it, if we except Heyward and David, the trail of but
a single man.
[32.23]
The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a volley
from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear; and a
[32.24]
"Ah, I feared some deviltry like this!” exclaimed the scout, in English, adding,
with the quickness of thought, in his adopted tongue: "To cover, men, and
charge!”
[32.25]
The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward had well recovered from his
surprise, he found himself standing alone with David. Luckily the Hurons had
already fallen back, and he was safe from their fire. But this state of things
was evidently to be of short continuance; for the scout set the example of
pressing on their retreat, by discharging his rifle, and darting from tree to
tree as his enemy slowly yielded ground.
[32.26]
It would seem that the assault had been made by a very
small party of the Hurons, which, however, continued to increase in numbers, as
it retired on its friends, until the return fire was very nearly, if not quite,
equal to that maintained by the advancing Delawares. Heyward threw himself among
the combatants, and imitating the necessary caution of his companions, he made
quick discharges with his own rifle. The contest now grew warm and stationary.
Few were injured, as both parties kept their bodies as much protected as
possible by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of their persons except
in the act of taking aim. But the chances were gradually growing unfavorable to
Hawkeye and his band. The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger without
knowing how to remedy it. He saw it was more dangerous to retreat than to
maintain his ground: while he found his enemy throwing out men on his flank;
which rendered the task of keeping themselves covered so very difficult to the
[32.27]
The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to the scout and his friends
greatly relieving. It would seem that, while his own surprise had been
anticipated, and had consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, having been
deceived in its object and in his numbers, had left too small a force to resist
the impetuous onset of the young Mohican
[Uncas with his warriors].
This fact was doubly apparent, by the rapid manner in which the battle in the
forest rolled upward toward the village, and by an instant falling off in the
number of their assailants, who rushed to assist in maintaining the front, and,
as it now proved to be, the principal point of defense.
[32.28]
Animating his followers by his voice, and his own example,
Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon their foes. The charge, in that
rude species of warfare, consisted merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher
to the enemy; and in this maneuver he was instantly and successfully obeyed. The
Hurons were compelled to withdraw, and the scene of the contest rapidly changed
from the more open ground, on which it had commenced, to a spot where the
assailed found a thicket to rest upon. Here the struggle was protracted,
arduous, and seemingly of doubtful issue; the
[32.29]
In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind the same tree as that which
served for a cover to Heyward; most of his own combatants being within call, a
little on his right, where they maintained rapid, though fruitless, discharges
on their sheltered enemies.
[32.30]
"You are a young man, major,” said the scout, dropping the
butt of "killdeer" to the earth, and leaning on the barrel, a little fatigued
with his previous industry; "and it may be your gift to lead armies, at some
future day, ag'in these imps, the Mingoes.
You may here see
the philosophy of an Indian fight. It consists mainly in ready hand, a quick eye
and a good cover. Now, if you had a company of the Royal Americans here, in what
manner would you set them to work in this business?”
[32.31]
"The bayonet would make a road.”
[32.32]
"Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a man must ask himself, in this
wilderness, how many lives he can spare.
No—horse*,” continued the scout, shaking his head, like one who mused; "horse, I
am ashamed to say must sooner or later decide these scrimmages. The brutes are
better than men, and to horse must we come at last. Put a shodden hoof on the
moccasin of a red-skin, and, if his rifle be once emptied, he will never stop to
load it again.”
[32.33]
"This is a subject that might better be discussed at another time,” returned
Heyward; "shall we charge?”
[32.34]
"I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in passing his breathing spells
in useful reflections,” the scout replied. "As to rush, I little relish such a
measure; for a scalp or two must be thrown away in the attempt. And yet,” he
added, bending his head aside, to catch the sounds of the distant combat, "if we
are to be of use to Uncas, these knaves in our front must be got rid of.”
[32.35]
Then, turning with a prompt and decided air, he called
aloud to his Indians, in their own language. His words were answered by a shout;
and, at a given signal, each warrior made a swift movement around his particular
tree. The sight of so many dark bodies, glancing before their eyes at the same
instant, drew a hasty and consequently an ineffectual fire from the Hurons.
Without stopping to breathe, the
[32.36]
The combat endured only for an instant, hand to hand, and
then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until they reached the opposite margin
of the thicket, where they clung to the cover, with the sort of obstinacy that
is so often witnessed in hunted brutes.
At this critical moment, when the success of the struggle was again becoming
doubtful, the crack of a rifle was heard behind the Hurons, and a bullet came
whizzing from among some beaver lodges, which were situated in the clearing,
in their rear, and was followed by the fierce and appalling yell of the
war-whoop.
[32.37]
"There speaks the Sagamore!"
[<Chingachgook]
shouted Hawkeye, answering the cry with his own stentorian voice; "we have them
now in face and back!”
[Re the bullet from the beaver lodges, in omitted chapters Chingachgook was
shown hiding by disguising himself as a beaver. (In another chapter Hawkeye
successfully impersonates a bear.)]
[32.38]
The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous. Discouraged by
an assault from a quarter that left them no opportunity for cover, the warriors
uttered a common yell of disappointment, and breaking off in a body, they spread
themselves across the opening, heedless of every consideration but flight. Many
fell, in making the experiment, under the bullets and the blows of the pursuing
[32.39]
We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the scout
and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview that
[32.40]
The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in the
preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level ground, sprinkled with
trees in sufficient numbers to conceal them. The land fell away rather
precipitately in front, and beneath their eyes stretched, for several miles,
a narrow,
dark, and wooded vale. It was through this dense and dark forest that Uncas was
still contending with the main body of the Hurons.
[32.41]
The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of the hill, and listened, with
practiced ears, to the sounds of the combat. A few birds hovered over the leafy
bosom of the valley, frightened from their secluded nests; and here and there a
light vapory cloud, which seemed already blending with the atmosphere, arose
above the trees, and indicated some spot where the struggle had been fierce and
stationary.
[32.42]
"The fight is coming up the ascent
[hillside],”
said
[32.43]
"They will incline into the hollow, where the cover is thicker,” said the scout,
"and that will leave us well on their flank. Go, Sagamore
[Chingachgook];
you will hardly be in time to give the whoop, and lead on the young men.
I will fight this scrimmage with
warriors of my own color. You know me, Mohican; not a Huron of them all
shall cross the swell, into your rear, without the notice of ‘killdeer.’”
[32.44]
The Indian chief paused another moment to consider the signs of the contest,
which was now rolling rapidly up the ascent, a certain evidence that the
Delawares triumphed; nor did he actually quit the place until admonished of the
proximity of his friends, as well as enemies, by the bullets of the former,
which began to patter among the dried leaves on the ground, like the bits of
falling hail which precede the bursting of the tempest. Hawkeye and his three
companions withdrew a few paces to a shelter, and awaited the issue with
calmness that nothing but great practice could impart in such a scene.
[32.45]
It was not long before the reports of the rifles began to lose the echoes of the
woods, and to sound like weapons discharged in the open air. Then a warrior
appeared, here and there, driven to the skirts of the forest, and rallying as he
entered the clearing, as at the place where the final stand was to be made.
These were soon joined by others, until a long line of swarthy figures was to be
seen clinging to the cover with the obstinacy of desperation. Heyward began to
grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in the direction of Chingachgook.
The chief was seated on a rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage,
considering the spectacle with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted there
merely to view the struggle.
[32.46]
"The time has come for the
[32.47]
"Not so, not so,” returned the scout; "when he scents his
friends, he will let them know that he is here. See, see; the knaves are getting
in that clump of pines, like bees settling after their flight. By the Lord, a
squaw might put a bullet into the center of such
a knot of
dark skins!”
[32.48]
At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons
fell by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band. The shout that followed was
answered by a single war-cry from the forest, and a yell passed through the air
that sounded as if a thousand throats were united in a common effort. The Hurons
staggered, deserting the center of their line, and
Uncas issued from the forest through the
opening they left, at the head of a hundred warriors.
[32.49]
Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out the enemy to his
followers,
who separated in pursuit. The war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons
seeking protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the victorious warriors
of the Lenape. A minute might have passed, but the sounds were already receding
in different directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath the
echoing arches of the woods.
One little
knot of Hurons, however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring, like
lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity
[hillside]
which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted, to
mingle more closely in the fray.
Magua was conspicuous in this party, both by his fierce and
savage mien, and by the air of haughty authority he yet maintained.
[32.50]
In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit,
Uncas had left himself nearly alone; but
the moment his eye caught the figure of Le Subtil
[Magua],
every other consideration was forgotten.
Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some six or seven warriors, and
reckless of the disparity of their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy. Le Renard
[Magua],
who watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy. But at the
moment when he thought the rashness of his impetuous young assailant had left
him at his mercy, another shout was given, and La Longue Carabine
[Hawkeye]
was seen rushing to the rescue, attended by all his white associates. The Huron
instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the ascent.
[32.51]
There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for
Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends, continued the pursuit
with the velocity of the wind. In vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the
covers; the young Mohican braved the
dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon compelled them to a flight as swift as
his own headlong speed. It was fortunate that the race was of short
continuance, and that the white men were much favored by their position, or the
[32.52]
Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the chase, the Hurons
now made a stand, and fought around their council-lodge with the fury of
despair. The onset and the issue were like the passage and destruction of a
whirlwind. The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawkeye, and even the still
nervous
[active]
arm of Munro were all busy for that passing moment, and the
ground was quickly strewed with their enemies.
Still Magua, though daring and much
exposed, escaped from every effort against his life, with that sort of
fabled protection that was made to overlook the fortunes of favored heroes in
the legends of ancient poetry.
Raising a
yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the subtle chief, when he
saw his comrades fallen, darted away from the place, attended by his two only
surviving friends, leaving the
[32.53]
But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the mêlée
[combat],
bounded forward in pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward and David still pressing on his
footsteps. The utmost that the scout could effect, was to keep the muzzle of his
rifle a little in advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered every
purpose of a charmed shield. Once Magua appeared disposed to make another and a
final effort to revenge his losses; but, abandoning his intention as soon as
demonstrated, he leaped into a thicket of bushes, through which he was followed
by his enemies, and
suddenly entered the
mouth of the cave already known to the reader.
[In an earlier wilderness-gothic innovation, Magua imprisoned his captives in a
cave with secret rooms and passages]
Hawkeye, who had only forborne to fire in tenderness to
Uncas, raised a shout of success, and proclaimed aloud that now they were
certain of their game. The pursuers dashed into the long and narrow entrance, in
time to catch a glimpse of the retreating forms of the Hurons. Their passage
through the natural galleries and
subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by the
shrieks and cries of hundreds of
women and children. The place, seen by its
dim and uncertain light, appeared like
the shades of the infernal regions, across which unhappy ghosts and savage
demons were flitting in multitudes.
[go gothic]
[32.54]
Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him possessed but a single
object.
Heyward and the scout still pressed on his rear, actuated, though possibly in a
less degree, by a common feeling. But
their way was becoming intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and the
glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and frequent; and for a moment
the trace was believed to be lost,
when
a white robe was seen fluttering in the further extremity of a passage that
seemed to lead up the mountain.
[gothic dark and light]
[32.56]
"'Tis Cora!”
exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror and delight were wildly mingled.
[32.57]
"Cora! Cora!” echoed Uncas,
bounding forward like a deer.
[32.58]
"'Tis the maiden!” shouted the scout. "Courage, lady; we come! we come!”
[32.59]
The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tenfold
encouraging by this
glimpse of the
captive. But the way was rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impassable.
Uncas abandoned his rifle, and leaped forward with headlong precipitation.
Heyward rashly imitated his example, though both were, a moment afterward,
admonished of his madness by hearing the bellowing of a piece, that the Hurons
found time to discharge down the passage in the rocks, the bullet from which
even gave the young Mohican a slight wound.
[32.60]
"We must close!” said the scout, passing his friends by a desperate leap; "the
knaves will pick us all off at this distance; and see, they hold the maiden so
as the shield themselves!”
[32.61]
Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, his
example was followed by his companions, who, by incredible exertions, got near
enough to the fugitives to perceive that
Cora was borne along between the two warriors while Magua prescribed the
direction and manner of their flight. At this moment the forms of all four were
strongly drawn against an opening in the sky, and they disappeared. Nearly
frantic with disappointment, Uncas and Heyward increased efforts that already
seemed superhuman, and they issued from the cavern on the side of the mountain,
in time to note the route of the pursued. The course lay up the ascent, and
still continued hazardous and laborious.
[32.62]
Encumbered by his rifle, and, perhaps, not sustained by so deep an interest in
the captive as his companions, the scout suffered the latter to precede him a
little, Uncas, in his turn, taking the lead of Heyward. In this manner, rocks,
precipices and difficulties were surmounted in an incredibly short space, that
at another time, and under other circumstances, would have been deemed almost
insuperable. But the impetuous young man were rewarded by finding that,
encumbered with Cora, the Hurons were losing ground in the race.
[32.63]
"Stay, dog of the Wyandots!” exclaimed Uncas, shaking his
bright tomahawk at Magua; "a
[32.64]
"I will go no further!” cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on a ledge of rock,
that overhung a deep precipice, at no great distance from the summit of the
mountain. "Kill me if thou wilt, detestable Huron
[Magua]; I will go no further.”
[32.65]
The supporters of the maiden raised their ready tomahawks with the impious joy
that fiends are thought to take in mischief, but Magua stayed
[stopped]
the uplifted arms. The Huron chief, after casting the
weapons he had wrested from his companions over the rock,
drew his knife, and
turned to his captive, with a look in which conflicting passions fiercely
contended.
[32.66]
"Woman,” he said, "chose; the wigwam or the knife of Le Subtil!”
[32.67]
Cora regarded him not, but dropping on her knees, she raised her eyes and
stretched her arms toward heaven, saying in a meek and yet confiding voice:
[32.68]
"I am thine; do with me as thou seest best!”
[32.69]
"Woman,” repeated Magua, hoarsely, and endeavoring in vain to catch a glance
from her serene and beaming eye, "choose!”
[32.70]
But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand. The form of
the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised his arm on high, but dropped it
again with a bewildered air, like one who doubted. Once more he struggled with
himself and lifted the keen weapon again; but just then a piercing cry was heard
above them, and
Uncas appeared, leaping
frantically, from a fearful height, upon the ledge.
Magua recoiled a
step; and one of his assistants, profiting by the chance, sheathed his own knife
in the bosom of Cora.
[32.71]
The Huron
[Magua]
sprang like a tiger on his offending and already retreating
country man, but the falling form of Uncas separated the unnatural combatants.
Diverted from his object by this interruption, and
maddened by the
murder he had just witnessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of the
prostrate
[32.72]
"Mercy! mercy! Huron,” cried Heyward, from above, in tones nearly choked by
horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive from it!”
[32.73]
Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the victorious Magua
uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds
of savage triumph to the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet
below. He was answered by a burst from the lips of the scout, whose tall person
was just then seen moving swiftly toward him, along those dangerous crags, with
steps as bold and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air. But when
the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless massacre, the ledge was tenanted
only by the dead.
[32.74]
His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then
shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his front.
A form stood at the brow of the
mountain, on the very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an awful
attitude of menace. Without stopping to consider his person, the rifle of
Hawkeye was raised; but a rock, which fell on the head of one of the fugitives
below, exposed the indignant and glowing countenance of the honest
Gamut. Then
Magua issued from a crevice, and,
stepping with calm indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he
leaped a wide fissure, and
ascended the rocks at a point where the arm of David could
not reach him. A single bound would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and
assure his safety. Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused, and
shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted:
[32.75]
"The pale faces are dogs! the
[32.76]
Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short of his mark, though
his hands grasped a shrub on the verge of the height. The form of Hawkeye had
crouched like a beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so
violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised rifle played like a
leaf fluttering in the wind. Without exhausting himself with fruitless efforts,
the cunning Magua suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and found
a fragment for his feet to rest on. Then, summoning all his powers, he renewed
the attempt, and so far succeeded as to draw his knees on the edge of the
mountain.
[32.77]
It was now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together, that the
agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his shoulder. The surrounding rocks
themselves were not steadier than the piece became, for the single instant that
it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron relaxed, and his body fell
back a little, while his knees still kept their position. Turning a relentless
look on his enemy, he shook a hand in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and
his dark person was seen cutting the air with its head downward, for a fleeting
instant, until it glided past the fringe of shrubbery which clung to the
mountain, in its rapid flight to destruction.
[Cooper’s description of Magua’s fall again echoes a biblical description of Satan, Revelation 12:7-9 (English Standard Version): 7Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan,the deceiver of the whole world— he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.]
Chapter 33
[33.1]
The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding day,
a nation of mourners. The sounds of
the battle were over, and they had fed fat their ancient grudge, and had avenged
their recent quarrel with the Mengwe
[Iroquois],
by the destruction of a whole community. The
black and murky atmosphere that
floated around the spot where the Hurons had encamped, sufficiently announced of
itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while hundreds of
ravens, that struggled above the
summits of the mountains, or swept, in noisy flocks, across the wide ranges of
the woods, furnished a frightful direction to the scene of the combat. In short,
any eye at all practiced in the signs of a frontier warfare might easily have
traced all those unerring evidences of the ruthless results which attend an
Indian vengeance.
[33.2]
Still, the sun rose on the Lenape a nation of mourners. No shouts of success, no
songs of triumph, were heard, in rejoicings for their victory. The latest
straggler had returned from his fell employment, only to strip himself of the
terrific emblems of his bloody calling, and to join in the lamentations of his
countrymen, as a stricken people. Pride and exultation were supplanted by
humility, and the fiercest of human passions was already succeeded by the most
profound and unequivocal demonstrations of grief.
[33.3]
The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest faces
encircled a spot in their vicinity, whither everything possessing life had
repaired, and where all were now collected, in deep and awful silence. Though
beings of every rank and age, of both sexes, and of all pursuits, had united to
form this breathing wall of bodies, they were influenced by a single emotion.
Each eye was riveted on the center of
that ring, which contained the objects of so much and of so common an interest.
[33.4]
Six Delaware girls,
with their long, dark, flowing tresses falling loosely across their bosoms,
stood apart, and only gave proof of their existence as they occasionally strewed
sweet-scented herbs and forest flowers on a litter
[stretcher]
of fragrant plants that, under a pall [covering]
of Indian robes, supported
all that now remained of the ardent,
high-souled, and generous Cora. Her form was concealed in many wrappers of
the same simple manufacture, and
her
face was shut forever from the gaze of men.
[33.5]
At her
[Cora’s]
feet was seated the desolate
[Colonel]
Munro
[Cora’s & Alice’s father].
His aged head was bowed nearly to the earth, in compelled submission to the
stroke of
[33.6]
But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be
imagined, it was far less touching than another, that occupied the opposite
space of the same area.
Seated, as in
life, with his form and limbs arranged in grave and decent composure, Uncas
appeared, arrayed in the most gorgeous ornaments that the wealth of the
tribe could furnish. Rich plumes nodded above his head;
wampum
[decorative shells],
gorgets
[neckbands],
bracelets, and medals, adorned his person in profusion; though his dull eye and
vacant lineaments too strongly contradicted the idle tale of pride they would
convey.
[33.7]
Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was placed, without arms
[weapons],
paint, or adornment of any sort, except the bright blue blazonry of his race,
that was indelibly impressed on his naked bosom.
[<tortoise tattoo]
During
the long period that the tribe had thus been collected, the Mohican warrior had
kept a steady, anxious look on the cold and senseless countenance of his son. So
riveted and intense had been that gaze, and so changeless his attitude, that a
stranger might not have told the living from the dead, but for the occasional
gleamings of a troubled spirit, that shot athwart the dark visage of one, and
the deathlike calm that had forever settled on the lineaments of the other. The
scout was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal and avenging
weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders of his nation, occupied a high
place at hand, whence he might look down on the mute and sorrowful assemblage of
his people.
[33.8]
Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a soldier, in the military attire
of a strange nation;
and without it was his warhorse, in the center of a collection of mounted
domestics
[retainers, attendants],
seemingly in readiness to undertake some distant journey. The vestments of the
stranger announced him to be one who held a responsible situation near the
person of the captain of the Canadas
[French governor];
and who, as it would now seem, finding his errand of peace frustrated by the
fierce impetuosity of his allies, was content to become a silent and sad
spectator of the fruits of a contest that he had arrived too late to anticipate.
[The French officer was on a peace mission but arrived too late]
[33.9]
The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, and yet had the multitude
maintained its breathing stillness since its dawn.
[33.10]
No sound louder than a stifled sob had been heard among
them, nor had even a limb been moved throughout that long and painful period,
except to perform the simple and touching offerings that were made, from time to
time, in commemoration of the dead.
The patience and
forbearance of Indian fortitude could alone support such an appearance of
abstraction, as seemed now to have turned each dark and motionless figure into
stone.
[33.11]
At length, the sage of the
[33.12]
"Men of the Lenape!” he said, in low, hollow tones, that sounded like a voice
charged with some prophetic mission: "the face of the Manitou
[Great Spirit]
is behind a cloud! His eye is turned from you; His ears are shut; His tongue
gives no answer. You see him not; yet His judgments are before you. Let your
hearts be open and your spirits tell no lie. Men of the Lenape! the face of the
Manitou is behind a cloud.”
[33.13]
As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on the
ears of the multitude, a stillness as deep and awful succeeded as if the
venerated spirit they worshiped had uttered the words without the aid of human
organs; and even the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, compared with the
humbled and submissive throng by whom he was surrounded. As the immediate
effect, however, gradually passed away, a low murmur of voices commenced a sort
of chant in honor of the dead. The
sounds were those of females, and were thrillingly soft and wailing. The
words were connected by no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took
up the eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called, and gave vent to
her emotions in such language as was suggested by her feelings and the occasion.
At intervals the speaker was interrupted by general and loud bursts of sorrow,
during which the girls around the bier
[coffin]
of Cora plucked the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if bewildered
with grief. But, in the milder moments of their plaint, these emblems of purity
and sweetness were cast back to their places, with every sign of tenderness and
regret. Though rendered less connected by many and general interruptions and
outbreakings, a translation of their language would have contained a regular
descant
[melody],
which, in substance, might have proved to possess a train of consecutive ideas.
[33.14]
A girl, selected for the task by her rank and qualifications, commenced by
modest allusions to the qualities of the deceased warrior, embellishing her
expressions with those oriental [Asian] images that the Indians have probably
brought with them from the extremes of the other continent, and which form of
themselves a link to connect the ancient histories of the two worlds. She called
him
[Uncas]
the "panther of his tribe"; and described him as one whose
moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose bound was like the leap of a young
fawn; whose eye was brighter than a star
in the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the thunder of the
Manitou. She reminded him of the mother who bore him, and dwelt forcibly on
the happiness she must feel in possessing such a son. She bade him tell her,
when they met in the world of spirits, that the
[33.15]
Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder
and still more tender strain,
alluded,
with the delicacy and sensitiveness of women, to the stranger maiden
[Cora],
who had left the upper earth at a time so near his
[Uncas’s]
own departure, as to render the will of the Great Spirit too manifest to be
disregarded.
They admonished him
[Uncas]
to be kind to her [Cora],
and to have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which were so
necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself. They dwelled upon her
matchless beauty, and on her noble resolution,
without the taint of envy, and as angels
may be thought to delight in a superior excellence; adding, that these
endowments should prove more than equivalent for any little imperfection in her
education.
[33.16]
After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the
maiden herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and love. They
exhorted her
[Cora]
to be of cheerful mind, and to fear nothing for her future welfare. A hunter
[Uncas]
would be her companion,
who knew how to provide for her smallest wants; and a warrior was at her side
who was able to protect he against every danger. They promised that her path
should be pleasant, and her burden light. They cautioned her against unavailing
regrets for the friends of her youth, and the scenes where her father had dwelt;
assuring her that
the "blessed hunting
grounds of the Lenape,” contained vales as pleasant, streams as pure; and
flowers as sweet, as the "heaven of the pale faces.”
They advised her to be attentive to the
wants of her companion, and never to forget the distinction which the Manitou
had so wisely established between them. Then, in a wild burst of their chant
they sang with united voices the temper of the Mohican's
[Uncas’s]
mind. They pronounced him noble, manly and generous; all
that became a warrior, and all that a maid might love. Clothing their ideas in
the most remote and subtle images, they betrayed, that,
in the short period of their intercourse
[interaction],
they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their sex, the truant
disposition of his inclinations. The
[33.17]
Then, with another transition in voice and subject,
allusions were made to the virgin who
wept in the adjacent lodge. They compared her to flakes of snow; as pure, as
white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in the fierce heats of summer, or
congeal in the frosts of winter. They doubted not that she was lovely in the
eyes of the young chief, whose skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own; but
though far from expressing such a preference, it was evident they
deemed her less excellent than the maid
they mourned. Still they denied her no need her rare charms might properly
claim. Her ringlets were compared to the exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye
to the blue vault of heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing
flush of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive than her bloom.
[33.18]
During these and similar songs nothing was audible but the
murmurs of the music; relieved, as it was, or rather rendered terrible, by those
occasional bursts of grief which might be called its choruses. The
[33.19]
The scout
[Hawkeye],
to whom alone, of all the white men, the words were intelligible, suffered
himself to be a little aroused from his meditative posture, and bent his face
aside, to catch their meaning, as the girls proceeded. But
when they spoke of the future prospects
of Cora and Uncas, he shook his head, like one who knew the error of their
simple creed, and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it until
the ceremony, if that might be called a ceremony, in which feeling was so deeply
imbued, was finished.
Happily for the self-command of both Heyward and Munro,
they knew not the meaning of the wild sounds they heard.
[33.20]
Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest manifested by the native
part of the audience. His look never changed throughout the whole of the scene,
nor did a muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at the wildest or the most
pathetic parts of the lamentation. The cold and senseless remains of his son was
all to him, and every other sense but that of sight seemed frozen, in order that
his eyes might take their final gaze at those lineaments he had so long loved,
and which were now about to be closed forever from his view.
[33.21]
In this stage of the obsequies
[rites],
a warrior much renowned for deed in
arms, and more especially for services in the recent combat, a man of stern and
grave demeanor, advanced slowly from the crowd, and placed himself nigh the
person of the dead.
[33.22]
"Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki?”
[or Abenaki or Wabanahki, another name for Algonquian peoples]
he said, addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the empty clay
retained the faculties of the animated man; "thy time has been like that of the
sun when in the trees; they glory brighter than his light at noonday. Thou art
gone, youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots
[Hurons]
are clearing the briers from thy path to the world of the
spirits. Who that saw thee in battle
would believe that thou couldst die? Who before thee has ever shown Uttawa
[name of speaker]
the way into the fight? Thy feet were like the wings of eagles; thine arm
heavier than falling branches from the pine; and thy voice like the Manitou
[Great Spirit]
when He speaks in the clouds. The tongue of Uttawa is weak,” he added, looking
about him with a melancholy gaze, "and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the
Wapanachki, why hast thou left us?”
[33.23]
He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the high and gifted men
of the nation had sung or spoken their tribute of praise over the manes
[spirits] of the
deceased chief. When each had ended, another deep and breathing silence reigned
in all the place.
[33.24]
Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed accompaniment of distant
music, rising just high enough on the air to be audible, and yet so
indistinctly, as to leave its character, and the place whence it proceeded,
alike matters of conjecture. It was, however, succeeded by another and another
strain, each in a higher key, until they grew on the ear, first in long drawn
and often repeated interjections, and finally in words. The lips of Chingachgook
had so far parted, as to announce that it was the monody
[death-lament]
of the father. Though not an eye was turned toward him nor
the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it was apparent, by the manner in
which the multitude elevated their heads to listen, that they drank in the
sounds with an intenseness of attention, that none but Tamenund himself had ever
before commanded. But they listened in vain. The strains rose just so loud as to
become intelligible, and then grew fainter and more trembling, until they
finally sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of wind. The lips
of the Sagamore closed, and he remained silent in his seat, looking with his
riveted eye and motionless form, like some creature that had been turned from
the Almighty hand with the form but without the spirit of a man. The
[33.25]
A
signal was given, by one of the elder chiefs, to the women who crowded that part
of the circle near which the body of Cora lay. Obedient to the sign, the girls
raised the bier to the elevation of their heads, and advanced with slow and
regulated steps, chanting, as they proceeded, another wailing song in praise of
the deceased. Gamut, who had been a close observer of rites he deemed so
heathenish, now bent his head over the shoulder of the unconscious father,
whispering:
[33.26]
"They move with the remains of thy child; shall we not follow, and see them
interred with Christian burial?”
[33.27]
Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded in his ear, and bestowing one
anxious and hurried glance around him, he arose and followed in the simple
train, with the mien of a soldier, but bearing the full burden of a parent's
suffering. His friends pressed around him with a sorrow that was too strong to
be termed sympathy—even the young Frenchman joining in the procession, with the
air of a man who was sensibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of one so
lovely. But when the last and humblest female of the tribe had joined in the
wild and yet ordered array, the men of the Lenape contracted their circle, and
formed again around the person of Uncas, as silent, as grave, and as motionless
as before.
[33.28]
The place which had been chosen for
the grave of Cora was a little
knoll, where a cluster of young and healthful pines had taken root,
forming of
themselves a melancholy and appropriate shade over the spot. On reaching it the
girls deposited their burden, and continued for many minutes waiting, with
characteristic patience, and native timidity, for some evidence that they whose
feelings were most concerned were content with the arrangement. At length the
scout, who alone understood their habits, said, in their own language:
[33.29]
"My daughters have done well; the white men thank them.”
[33.30]
Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls
proceeded to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously, and not inelegantly,
fabricated of the bark of the birch; after which they lowered it into its dark
and final abode.
The ceremony of
covering the remains, and concealing the marks of the fresh earth, by leaves and
other natural and customary objects, was conducted with the same simple and
silent forms. But when the labors of the kind beings who had performed these
sad and friendly offices were so far completed, they hesitated, in a way to show
that they knew not how much further they might proceed. It was in this stage of
the rites that the scout again addressed them:
[33.31]
"My young women have done enough,” he said: "the spirit of
the pale face has no need of food or raiment, their gifts being according to
the heaven of their color. I see,”
he added, glancing an eye at David, who was preparing his book in a manner that
indicated an intention to lead the way in sacred song, "that one who better
knows the Christian fashions is about to speak.”
[33.32]
The females
stood modestly aside, and, from having been the principal actors in the scene,
they now became the meek and
attentive
observers of that which followed. During the time David occupied in pouring
out the pious feelings of his spirit in this manner, not a sign of surprise, nor
a look of impatience, escaped them. They listened like those who knew the
meaning of the strange words, and appeared as if they felt the mingled emotions
of sorrow, hope, and resignation, they were intended to convey.
[33.33]
Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and perhaps influenced by his own
secret emotions, the master of song exceeded his usual efforts. His full rich
voice was not found to suffer by a comparison with the soft tones of the girls;
and his more modulated strains possessed, at least for the ears of those to whom
they were peculiarly addressed, the additional power of intelligence. He ended
the anthem, as he had commenced it, in the midst of a grave and solemn
stillness.
[33.34]
When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the ears
of his auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the eyes, and the general and
yet subdued movement of the assemblage, betrayed that
something was expected from the father
of the deceased. Munro seemed sensible that the time was come for him to
exert what is, perhaps, the greatest effort of which human nature is capable. He
bared his gray locks, and looked around the timid and quiet throng by which he
was encircled, with a firm and collected countenance. Then, motioning with his
hand for the scout to listen, he said:
[33.35]
"Say to these kind and gentle females, that a heart-broken
and failing man returns them his thanks. Tell them, that the Being we all
worship, under different names, will be mindful of their charity; and that the
time shall not be distant when we may assemble around His throne
without distinction of sex, or rank, or
color.”
[33.36]
The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which the
veteran delivered these words, and
shook his head
slowly when they were ended, as one who doubted their efficacy.
[33.37]
"To tell them this,” he said, "would be to tell them that the snows come not in
the winter, or that the sun shines fiercest when the trees are stripped of their
leaves.”
[33.38]
Then turning to the women, he made such a communication of the other's gratitude
as he deemed most suited to the capacities of his listeners. The head of Munro
had already sunk upon his chest, and he was again fast relapsing into
melancholy, when the young Frenchman before named ventured to touch him lightly
on the elbow. As soon as he had gained the attention of the mourning old man, he
pointed toward a group of young Indians, who approached with a light but closely
covered litter, and then pointed upward toward the sun.
[33.39]
"I understand you, sir,” returned Munro, with a voice of forced firmness; "I
understand you. It is the will of Heaven, and I submit. Cora, my child! if the
prayers of a heart-broken father could avail thee now, how blessed shouldst thou
be! Come, gentlemen,” he added, looking about him with an air of lofty
composure, though the anguish that quivered in his faded countenance was far too
powerful to be concealed, "our duty here is ended; let us depart.”
[33.40]
Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them from a spot
where, each instant, he felt his self-control was about to desert him. While his
companions were mounting, however, he found time to press the hand of the scout,
and to repeat the terms of an engagement they had made to meet again within the
posts of the British army. Then, gladly throwing himself into the saddle, he
spurred his charger to the side of the litter, whence law and stifled sobs alone
announced the presence of
[33.41]
But the tie which, through their common calamity, had united the feelings of
these simple dwellers in the woods [<the Indians] with the strangers
[Uncas, Cora, etc.]
who had thus transiently visited them, was not so easily
broken. Years passed away before the
traditionary tale of the white maiden, and of the young warrior of the Mohicans
ceased to beguile the long nights and tedious marches, or to animate their
youthful and brave with a desire for vengeance. Neither were the secondary
actors in these momentous incidents forgotten. Through
the medium of the scout, who served
for years afterward as
a link between
them and civilized life, they learned, in answer to their inquiries, that
the "Gray Head"
[Colonel Munro]
was speedily gathered to his fathers—borne down, as was erroneously believed, by
his military misfortunes; and that the "Open Hand"
[Duncan]
had conveyed his surviving daughter far into the settlements of the pale faces,
where her tears had at last ceased to flow, and had been succeeded by the bright
smiles which were better suited to her joyous nature.
[Sentimental-domestic rhetoric indicates that
[33.42]
But these were events of a time later than that which
concerns our tale. Deserted by all of his color, Hawkeye returned to the spot
where his sympathies led him, with a force that no ideal bond of union could
destroy. He was just in time to catch a parting look of the features of Uncas,
whom the
[33.43]
The movement, like the feeling, had been simultaneous and general. The same
grave expression of grief, the same rigid silence, and the same deference to the
principal mourner, were observed around the place of interment as have been
already described. The body was deposited in an attitude of repose, facing the
rising sun, with the implements of war and of the chase at hand, in readiness
for the final journey. An opening was left in the shell, by which it was
protected from the soil, for the spirit to communicate with its earthly
tenement, when necessary; and the whole was concealed from the instinct, and
protected from the ravages of the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to
the natives. The manual rites then ceased and all present reverted to the more
spiritual part of the ceremonies.
[33.44]
Chingachgook
became once more the object of the common attention.
He had not yet spoken, and something
consolatory and instructive was expected from so renowned a chief on an occasion
of such interest. Conscious of the wishes of the people, the stern and
self-restrained warrior raised his face, which had latterly been buried in his
robe, and looked about him with a steady eye. His firmly compressed and
expressive lips then severed, and for the first time during the long ceremonies
his voice was distinctly audible. "Why do my brothers mourn?” he said, regarding
the dark race of dejected warriors by whom he was environed; "why do my
daughters weep? that a young man has gone to the happy hunting-grounds; that a
chief has filled his time with honor? He was good; he was dutiful; he was brave.
Who can deny it? The Manitou had need of such a warrior, and He has called him
away. As for me, the son and the father of Uncas, I am a blazed
[burnt]
pine, in a clearing of the pale faces. My race has gone
from the shores of the salt lake and the hills of the
[33.45]
"No, no,” cried Hawkeye,
who had been gazing with a yearning look at the rigid features of his friend,
with something like his own self-command, but whose philosophy could endure no
longer; "no, Sagamore, not alone.
The
gifts of our colors may be different, but God has so placed us as to journey in
the same path. I have no kin, and I may also say, like you, no people. He was
your son, and a red-skin by nature; and it may be that your blood was
nearer—but, if ever I forget the lad who has so often fou't at my side in
war, and slept at my side in peace, may He who made us all, whatever may be our
color or our gifts, forget me! The boy has left us for a time; but, Sagamore,
you are not alone.”
[33.46]
Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the warmth of feeling, the scout had
stretched across the fresh earth, and in an attitude of friendship these two
sturdy and intrepid woodsmen bowed their heads together, while scalding tears
fell to their feet, watering the grave of Uncas like drops of falling rain.
[33.47]
In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst of feeling, coming
as it did, from the two most renowned warriors of that region, was received,
Tamenund lifted his voice to disperse the multitude.
[33.48]
"It is enough,” he said.
"Go, children of the Lenape, the anger
of the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay? The pale faces are masters
of the earth, and the time of the red men has not yet come again. My day has
been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis
[the great tortoise]
happy and strong; and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the
last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans.”
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