The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER VIII.

  "They linger yet, Avengers of their native land."

  GRAY.

  The warning call of the scout was not uttered without occasion. Duringthe occurrence of the deadly encounter just related, the roar of thefalls was unbroken by any human sound whatever. It would seem thatinterest in the result had kept the natives on the opposite shores inbreathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift changes in theposition of the combatants, effectually prevented a fire that mightprove dangerous alike to friend and enemy. But the moment the strugglewas decided, a yell arose as fierce and savage as wild and revengfulpassions could throw into the air. It was followed by the swift flashesof the rifles, which sent their leaden messengers across the rock involleys, as though the assailants would pour out their impotent fury onthe insensible scene of the fatal contest.

  A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle ofChingachgook, who had maintained his post throughout the fray withunmoved resolution. When the triumphant shout of Uncas was borne to hisears, the gratified father raised his voice in a single responsive cry,after which his busy piece alone proved that he still guarded his passwith unwearied diligence. In this manner many minutes flew by with theswiftness of thought: the rifles of the assailants speaking, at times,in rattling volleys, and at others, in occasional, scattering shots.Though the rock, the trees, and the shrubs, were cut and torn in ahundred places around the besieged, their cover was so close, and sorigidly maintained, that, as yet, David had been the only sufferer intheir little band.

  "Let them burn their powder," said the deliberate scout, while bulletafter bullet whizzed by the place where he securely lay; "there will bea fine gathering of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps will tireof the sport, afore these old stones cry out for mercy! Uncas, boy, youwaste the kernels by overcharging: and a kicking rifle never carries atrue bullet. I told you to take that loping miscreant under the line ofwhite paint; now, if your bullet went a hair's breadth, it went twoinches above it. The life lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches usto make a quick end of the sarpents."

  A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young Mohican,betraying his knowledge of the English language, as well as of theother's meaning; but he suffered it to pass away without vindication orreply.

  "I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or of skill,"said Duncan; "he saved my life in the coolest and readiest manner, andhe has made a friend who never will require to be reminded of the debthe owes."

  Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to the grasp ofHeyward. During this act of friendship, the two young men exchangedlooks of intelligence which caused Duncan to forget the character andcondition of his wild associate. In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who lookedon this burst of youthful feeling with a cool but kind regard, made thefollowing reply:--

  "Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in thewilderness. I dare say I may have served Uncas some such turn myselfbefore now; and I very well remember that he has stood between me anddeath five different times: three times from the Mingos, once incrossing Horican, and--"

  "That bullet was better aimed than common!" exclaimed Duncan,involuntarily shrinking from a shot which struck the rock at his sidewith a smart rebound.

  Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his head, as heexamined it, saying, "Falling lead is never flattened! had it come fromthe clouds this might have happened!"

  But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised towards the heavens,directing his companions to a point, where the mystery was immediatelyexplained. A ragged oak grew on the right bank of the river, nearlyopposite to their position, which, seeking the freedom of the openspace, had inclined so far forward, that its upper branches overhungthat arm of the stream which flowed nearest to its own shore. Among thetopmost leaves, which scantily concealed the gnarled and stunted limbs,a savage was nestled, partly concealed by the trunk of the tree, andpartly exposed, as though looking down upon them to ascertain the effectproduced by his treacherous aim.

  "These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our ruin," saidHawkeye; "keep him in play, boy, until I can bring 'Killdeer' to bear,when we will try his metal on each side of the tree at once."

  Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the word. The riflesflashed, the leaves and the bark of the oak flew into the air, and werescattered by the wind, but the Indian answered their assault by ataunting laugh, sending down upon them another bullet in return, thatstruck the cap of Hawkeye from his head. Once more the savage yellsburst out of the woods, and the leaden hail whistled above the heads ofthe besieged, as if to confine them to a place where they might becomeeasy victims to the enterprise of the warrior who had mounted the tree.

  "This must be looked to!" said the scout, glancing about him with ananxious eye. "Uncas, call up your father; we have need of all ourwe'pons to bring the cunning varmint from his roost."

  The signal was instantly given; and, before Hawkeye had reloaded hisrifle, they were joined by Chingachgook. When his son pointed out to theexperienced warrior the situation of their dangerous enemy, the usualexclamatory "Hugh!" burst from his lips; after which, no furtherexpression of surprise or alarm was suffered to escape him. Hawkeye andthe Mohicans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a few moments,when each quietly took his post, in order to execute the plan they hadspeedily devised.

  The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though ineffectual fire,from the moment of his discovery. But his aim was interrupted by thevigilance of his enemies, whose rifles instantaneously bore on any partof his person that was left exposed. Still his bullets fell in thecentre of the crouching party. The clothes of Heyward, which renderedhim peculiarly conspicuous, were repeatedly cut, and once blood wasdrawn from a slight wound in his arm.

  At length, emboldened by the long and patient watchfulness of hisenemies, the Huron attempted a better and more fatal aim. The quick eyeof the Mohicans caught the dark line of his lower limbs incautiouslyexposed through the thin foliage, a few inches from the trunk of thetree. Their rifles made a common report, when, sinking on his woundedlimb, part of the body of the savage came into view. Swift as thought,Hawkeye seized the advantage and discharged his fatal weapon into thetop of the oak. The leaves were unusually agitated; the dangerous riflefell from its commanding elevation, and after a few moments of vainstruggling, the form of the savage was seen swinging in the wind, whilehe still grasped a ragged and naked branch of the tree, with handsclenched in desperation.

  "Give him, in pity give him--the contents of another rifle!" criedDuncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the spectacle of afellow-creature in such awful jeopardy.

  "Not a karnel!" exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; "his death is certain,and we have no powder to spare, for Indian fights sometimes last fordays; 'tis their scalps or ours!--and God, who made us, has put into ournatures the craving to keep the skin on the head!"

  Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it was by suchvisible policy, there was no appeal. From that moment the yells in theforest once more ceased, the fire was suffered to decline, and all eyes,those of friends as well as enemies, became fixed on the hopelesscondition of the wretch who was dangling between heaven and earth. Thebody yielded to the currents of air, and though no murmur or groanescaped the victim, there were instants when he grimly faced his foes,and the anguish of cold despair might be traced, through the interveningdistance, in possession of his swarthy lineaments. Three several timesthe scout raised his piece in mercy, and as often prudence getting thebetter of his intention, it was again silently lowered. At length onehand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped exhausted to his side. Adesperate and fruitless struggle to recover the branch succeeded, andthen the savage was seen for a fleeting instant, grasping wildly at theempty air. The lightning is not quicker than was the flame from therifle of Hawkeye; the limbs of the victim trembled and contracted, thehead fell to the bosom, and the body parted the foami
ng waters likelead, when the element closed above it, in its ceaseless velocity, andevery vestige of the unhappy Huron was lost forever.

  No shout of triumph succeeded this important advantage, but even theMohicans gazed at each other in silent horror. A single yell burst fromthe woods, and all was again still. Hawkeye, who alone appeared toreason on the occasion, shook his head at his own momentary weakness,even uttering his self-disapprobation aloud.

  "'Twas the last charge in my horn, and the last bullet in my pouch, and'twas the act of a boy!" he said; "what mattered it whether he struckthe rock living or dead: feeling would soon be over. Uncas, lad, go downto the canoe, and bring up the big horn; it is all the powder we haveleft, and we shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of theMingo nature."

  The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turning over the uselesscontents of his pouch, and shaking the empty horn with reneweddiscontent. From this unsatisfactory examination, however, he was sooncalled by a loud and piercing exclamation from Uncas, that sounded, evento the unpractised ears of Duncan, as the signal of some new andunexpected calamity. Every thought filled with apprehension for theprecious treasure he had concealed in the cavern, the young man startedto his feet, totally regardless of the hazard he incurred by such anexposure. As if actuated by a common impulse, his movement was imitatedby his companions, and, together, they rushed down the pass to thefriendly chasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scattering fire oftheir enemies perfectly harmless. The unwonted cry had brought thesisters, together with the wounded David, from their place of refuge;and the whole party, at a single glance, was made acquainted with thenature of the disaster that had disturbed even the practised stoicism oftheir youthful Indian protector.

  At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to be seenfloating across the eddy, towards the swift current of the river, in amanner which proved that its course was directed by some hidden agent.The instant this unwelcome sight caught the eye of the scout, his riflewas levelled as by instinct, but the barrel gave no answer to the brightsparks of the flint.

  "'Tis too late, 'tis too late!" Hawkeye exclaimed, dropping the uselesspiece in bitter disappointment; "the miscreant has struck the rapid; andhad we powder, it could hardly send the lead swifter than he now goes!"

  The adventurous Huron raised his head above the shelter of the canoe,and while it glided swiftly down the stream, he waved his hand, and gaveforth the shout, which was the known signal of success. His cry wasanswered by a yell and a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting asif fifty demons were uttering their blasphemies at the fall of someChristian soul.

  "Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil!" said the scout, seatinghimself on a projection of the rock, and suffering his gun to fallneglected at his feet, "for the three quickest and surest rifles inthese woods are no better than so many stalks of mullein, or the lastyear's horns of a buck!"

  "What is to be done?" demanded Duncan, losing the first feeling ofdisappointment in a more manly desire for exertion; "what will become ofus?"

  Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger around the crownof his head, in a manner so significant, that none who witnessed theaction could mistake its meaning.

  "Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!" exclaimed the youth;"the Hurons are not here; we may make good the caverns; we may opposetheir landing."

  "With what?" coolly demanded the scout. "The arrows of Uncas, or suchtears as women shed! No, no; you are young, and rich, and have friends,and at such an age I know it is hard to die! But," glancing his eyes atthe Mohicans, "let us remember we are men without a cross, and let usteach these natives of the forest that white blood can run as freely asred, when the appointed hour is come."

  Duncan turned quickly in the direction indicated by the other's eyes,and read a confirmation of his worst apprehensions in the conduct of theIndians. Chingachgook, placing himself in a dignified posture on anotherfragment of the rock, had already laid aside his knife and tomahawk, andwas in the act of taking the eagle's plume from his head, and smoothingthe solitary tuft of hair in readiness to perform its last and revoltingoffice. His countenance was composed, though thoughtful, while his darkgleaming eyes were gradually losing the fierceness of the combat in anexpression better suited to the change he expected momentarily toundergo.

  "Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless!" said Duncan; "even at thismoment succor may be at hand. I see no enemies! they have sickened of astruggle in which they risk so much with so little prospect of gain!"

  "It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the wily sarpents stealupon us, and it is quite in natur' for them to be lying within hearingat this very moment," said Hawkeye; "but come they will, and in such afashion as will leave us nothing to hope! Chingachgook"--he spoke inDelaware--"my brother, we have fought our last battle together, and theMaquas will triumph in the death of the sage man of the Mohicans, and ofthe pale-face, whose eyes can make night as day, and level the cloudsto the mists of the springs!"

  "Let the Mingo women go weep over their slain!" returned the Indian,with characteristic pride and unmoved firmness; "the Great Snake of theMohicans has coiled himself in their wigwams, and has poisoned theirtriumph with the wailings of children whose fathers have not returned!Eleven warriors lie hid from the graves of their tribes since the snowshave melted, and none will tell where to find them when the tongue ofChingachgook shall be silent! Let them draw the sharpest knife, andwhirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their bitterest enemy is in theirhands. Uncas, topmost branch of a noble trunk, call on the cowards tohasten or their hearts will soften, and they will change to women!"

  "They look among the fishes for their dead!" returned the low, softvoice of the youthful chieftain; "the Hurons float with the slimy eels!They drop from the oaks like fruit that is ready to be eaten! and theDelawares laugh!"

  "Ay, ay," muttered the scout, who had listened to this peculiar burst ofthe natives with deep attention; "they have warmed their Indianfeelings, and they'll soon provoke the Maquas to give them a speedy end.As for me, who am of the whole blood of the whites, it is befitting thatI should die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my mouth,and without bitterness at the heart!"

  "Why die at all!" said Cora, advancing from the place where naturalhorror had, until this moment, held her riveted to the rock; "the pathis open on every side; fly, then, to the woods, and call on God forsuccor. Go, brave men, we owe you too much already; let us no longerinvolve you in our hapless fortunes!"

  "You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you judge theyhave left the path open to the woods!" returned Hawkeye, who, however,immediately added in his simplicity, "the down stream current, it iscertain, might soon sweep us beyond the reach of their rifles or thesounds of their voices."

  "Then try the river. Why linger to add to the number of the victims ofour merciless enemies?"

  "Why," repeated the scout, looking about him proudly, "because it isbetter for a man to die at peace with himself than to live haunted by anevil conscience! What answer could we give Munro, when he asked us whereand how we left his children?"

  "Go to him, and say, that you left them with a message to hasten totheir aid," returned Cora, advancing nigher to the scout, in hergenerous ardor; "that the Hurons bear them into the northern wilds, butthat by vigilance and speed they may yet be rescued; and if, after all,it should please heaven that his assistance come too late, bear to him,"she continued, her voice gradually lowering, until it seemed nearlychoked, "the love, the blessings, the final prayers of his daughters,and bid him not mourn their early fate, but to look forward with humbleconfidence to the Christian's goal to meet his children."

  The hard, weather-beaten features of the scout began to work, and whenshe had ended, he dropped his chin to his hand, like a man musingprofoundly on the nature of the proposal.

  "There is reason in her words!" at length broke from his compressed andtrembling lips; "ay, and they bear the spirit of Christianity; whatmight be r
ight and proper in a redskin, may be sinful in a man who hasnot even a cross in blood to plead for his ignorance. Chingachgook!Uncas! hear you the talk of the dark-eyed woman!"

  He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and his address, though calmand deliberate, seemed very decided. The elder Mohican heard him withdeep gravity, and appeared to ponder on his words, as though he felt theimportance of their import. After a moment of hesitation, he waved hishand in assent, and uttered the English word "Good!" with the peculiaremphasis of his people. Then, replacing his knife and tomahawk in hisgirdle, the warrior moved silently to the edge of the rock which wasmost concealed from the banks of the river. Here he paused a moment,pointed significantly to the woods below, and saying a few words in hisown language, as if indicating his intended route, he dropped into thewater, and sank from before the eyes of the witnesses of his movements.

  The scout delayed his departure to speak to the generous girl, whosebreathing became lighter as she saw the success of her remonstrance.

  "Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the old," hesaid; "and what you have spoken is wise, not to call it by a betterword. If you are led into the woods, that is such of you as may bespared for a while, break the twigs on the bushes as you pass, and makethe marks of your trail as broad as you can, when, if mortal eyes cansee them, depend on having a friend who will follow to the ends of 'arthafore he desarts you."

  He gave Cora an affectionate shake of the hand, lifted his rifle, andafter regarding it a moment with melancholy solicitude, laid itcarefully aside, and descended to the place where Chingachgook had justdisappeared. For an instant he hung suspended by the rock; and lookingabout him, with a countenance of peculiar care, he added, bitterly, "Hadthe powder held out, this disgrace could never have befallen!" then,loosening his hold, the water closed above his head, and he also becamelost to view.

  All eyes were now turned on Uncas, who stood leaning against the raggedrock, in immovable composure. After waiting a short time, Cora pointeddown the river, and said:--

  "Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most probably, in safety;is it not time for you to follow?"

  "Uncas will stay," the young Mohican calmly answered in English.

  "To increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the chances ofour release! Go, generous young man," Cora continued, lowering her eyesunder the gaze of the Mohican, and, perhaps, with an intuitiveconsciousness of her power; "go to my father, as I have said, and be themost confidential of my messengers. Tell him to trust you with the meansto buy the freedom of his daughters. Go! 'tis my wish, 'tis my prayer,that you will go!"

  The settled, calm look of the young chief changed to an expression ofgloom, but he no longer hesitated. With a noiseless step he crossed therock, and dropped into the troubled stream. Hardly a breath was drawn bythose he left behind, until they caught a glimpse of his head emergingfor air, far down the current, when he again sank, and was seen no more.

  These sudden and apparently successful experiments had all taken placein a few minutes of that time which had now become so precious. Afterthe last look at Uncas, Cora turned, and, with a quivering lip,addressed herself to Heyward:--

  "I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too, Duncan," shesaid; "follow, then, the wise example set you by these simple andfaithful beings."

  "Is such the faith that Cora Munro would exact from her protector?" saidthe young man, smiling mournfully, but with bitterness.

  "This is not a time for idle subtleties and false opinions," sheanswered; "but a moment when every duty should be equally considered.To us you can be of no further service here, but your precious life maybe saved for other and nearer friends."

  He made no reply, though his eyes fell wistfully on the beautiful formof Alice, who was clinging to his arm with the dependency of an infant.

  "Consider," continued Cora, after a pause, during which she seemed tostruggle with a pang even more acute than any that her fears hadexcited, "that the worst to us can be but death; a tribute that all mustpay at the good time of God's appointment."

  "There are evils worse than death," said Duncan, speaking hoarsely, andas if fretful at her importunity, "but which the presence of one whowould die in your behalf may avert."

  Cora ceased her entreaties; and, veiling her face in her shawl, drew thenearly insensible Alice after her into the deepest recess of the innercavern.