CHAPTER XVII
"Weave we the woof. The thread is spun. The web is wove. The work is done."
GRAY.
The hostile armies, which lay in the wilds of the Horican, passed thenight of the 9th of August, 1757, much in the manner they would had theyencountered on the fairest fields of Europe. While the conquered werestill, sullen, and dejected, the victors triumphed. But there are limitsalike to grief and joy; and long before the watches of the morning came,the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken by a gay callfrom some exulting young Frenchman of the advanced pickets, or amenacing challenge from the fort, which sternly forbade the approach ofany hostile footsteps before the stipulated moment. Even theseoccasional threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour whichprecedes the day, at which period a listener might have sought in vainany evidence of the presence of those armed powers that then slumberedon the shores of the "holy lake."
It was during these moments of deep silence, that the canvas whichconcealed the entrance to a spacious marquee in the French encampmentwas shoved aside, and a man issued from beneath the drapery into theopen air. He was enveloped in a cloak that might have been intended as aprotection from the chilling damps of the woods, but which servedequally well as a mantle, to conceal his person. He was permitted topass the grenadier, who watched over the slumbers of the Frenchcommander, without interruption, the man making the usual salute whichbetokens military deference, as the other passed swiftly through thelittle city of tents, in the direction of William Henry. Whenever thisunknown individual encountered one of the numberless sentinels whocrossed his path, his answer was prompt, and as it appearedsatisfactory; for he was uniformly allowed to proceed, without furtherinterrogation.
With the exception of such repeated, but brief interruptions, he hadmoved, silently, from the centre of the camp, to its most advancedoutposts, when he drew nigh the soldier who held his watch nearest tothe works of the enemy. As he approached he was received with the usualchallenge,--
"Qui vive?"
"France," was the reply.
"Le mot d'ordre?"
"La victoire," said the other, drawing so nigh as to be heard in a loudwhisper.
"C'est bien," returned the sentinel, throwing his musket from the chargeto his shoulder; "vous vous promenez bien matin, monsieur!"
"Il est necessaire d'etre vigilant, mon enfant," the other observed,dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking the soldier close in the face,as he passed him, still continuing his way towards the Britishfortification. The man started; his arms rattled heavily, as he threwthem forward, in the lowest and most respectful salute; and when he hadagain recovered his piece, he turned to walk his post, muttering betweenhis teeth,--
"Il faut etre vigilant, en verite! je crois que nous avons la, uncaporal qui ne dort jamais!"
The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the words which escapedthe sentinel in his surprise; nor did he again pause until he hadreached the low strand, and in a somewhat dangerous vicinity to thewestern water bastion of the fort. The light of an obscure moon was justsufficient to render objects, though dim, perceptible in their outlines.He, therefore, took the precaution to place himself against the trunk ofa tree, where he leaned for many minutes, and seemed to contemplate thedark and silent mounds of the English works in profound attention. Hisgaze at the ramparts was not that of a curious or idle spectator; buthis looks wandered from point to point, denoting his knowledge ofmilitary usages, and betraying that his search was not unaccompanied bydistrust. At length he appeared satisfied; and having cast his eyesimpatiently upwards towards the summit of the eastern mountain, as ifanticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the act of turningon his footsteps, when a light sound on the nearest angle of the bastioncaught his ear, and induced him to remain.
Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the rampart, whereit stood, apparently contemplating in its turn the distant tents of theFrench encampment. Its head was then turned towards the east, as thoughequally anxious for the appearance of light, when the form leanedagainst the mound, and seemed to gaze upon the glassy expanse of thewaters, which, like a submarine firmament, glittered with its thousandmimic stars. The melancholy air, the hour, together with the vast frameof the man who thus leaned, in musing, against the English ramparts,left no doubt as to his person, in the mind of his observant spectator.Delicacy, no less than prudence, now urged him to retire; and he hadmoved cautiously round the body of the tree for that purpose, whenanother sound drew his attention, and once more arrested his footsteps.It was a low and almost inaudible movement of the water, and wassucceeded by a grating of pebbles one against the other. In a moment hesaw a dark form rise, as it were out of the lake, and steal withoutfurther noise to the land, within a few feet of the place where hehimself stood. A rifle next slowly rose between his eyes and the waterymirror; but before it could be discharged his own hand was on the lock.
"Hugh!" exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous aim was so singularlyand so unexpectedly interrupted.
Without making any reply, the French officer laid his hand on theshoulder of the Indian, and led him in profound silence to a distancefrom the spot, where their subsequent dialogue might have proveddangerous, and where it seemed that one of them, at least, sought avictim. Then, throwing open his cloak, so as to expose his uniform andthe cross of St. Louis which was suspended at his breast, Montcalmsternly demanded,--
"What means this! Does not my son know that the hatchet is buriedbetween the English and his Canadian Father?"
"What can the Hurons do?" returned the savage, speaking also, thoughimperfectly, in the French language. "Not a warrior has a scalp, and thepale-faces make friends!"
"Ha! Le Renard Subtil! Methinks this is an excess of zeal for a friendwho was so late an enemy! How many suns have set since Le Renard struckthe war-post of the English?"
"Where is that sun!" demanded the sullen savage. "Behind the hill; andit is dark and cold. But when he comes again, it will be bright andwarm. Le Subtil is the sun of his tribe. There have been clouds, andmany mountains between him and his nation; but now he shines, and it isa clear sky!"
"That Le Renard has power with his people, I well know," said Montcalm;"for yesterday he hunted for their scalps, and to-day they hear him atthe council-fire."
"Magua is a great chief."
"Let him prove it, by teaching his nation how to conduct itself towardsour new friends."
"Why did the chief of the Canadas bring his young men into the woods,and fire his cannon at the earthen house?" demanded the subtle Indian.
"To subdue it. My master owns the land, and your father has been orderedto drive off these English squatters. They have consented to go, and nowhe calls them enemies no longer."
"'Tis well. Magua took the hatchet to color it with blood. It is nowbright; when it is red, it shall be buried."
"But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of France. The enemies ofthe great king across the salt lake are his enemies; his friends, thefriends of the Hurons."
"Friends!" repeated the Indian, in scorn. "Let his father give Magua ahand."
Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the warlike tribes he hadgathered was to be maintained by concession rather than by power,complied reluctantly with the other's request. The savage placed thefinger of the French commander on a deep scar in his bosom, and thenexultingly demanded,--
"Does my father know that?"
"What warrior does not? 'tis where a leaden bullet has cut."
"And this?" continued the Indian, who had turned his naked back to theother, his body being without its usual calico mantle.
"This!--my son has been sadly injured, here; who has done this?"
"Magua slept hard in the English wigwams, and the sticks have left theirmark," returned the savage, with a hollow laugh, which did not concealthe fierce temper that nearly choked him. Then recollecting himself,with sudden and native dignity, he added, "Go; teach your young men, itis peace. Le Rena
rd Subtil knows how to speak to a Huron warrior."
Without deigning to bestow further words, or to wait for any answer, thesavage cast his rifle into the hollow of his arm, and moved silentlythrough the encampment towards the woods where his own tribe was knownto lie. Every few yards as he proceeded he was challenged by thesentinels; but he stalked sullenly onward, utterly disregarding thesummons of the soldiers, who only spared his life because they knew theair and tread no less than the obstinate daring of an Indian.
Montcalm lingered long and melancholy on the strand, where he had beenleft by his companion, brooding deeply on the temper which hisungovernable ally had just discovered. Already had his fair fame beentarnished by one horrid scene, and in circumstances fearfully resemblingthose under which he now found himself. As he mused he became keenlysensible of the deep responsibility they assume who disregard the meansto attain their end, and of all the danger of setting in motion anengine which it exceeds human power to control. Then shaking off a trainof reflections that he accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph,he retraced his steps towards his tent, giving the order as he passed,to make the signal that should arouse the army from its slumbers.
The first tap of the French drums was echoed from the bosom of the fort,and presently the valley was filled with the strains of martial music,rising long, thrilling, and lively above the rattling accompaniment. Thehorns of the victors sounded merry and cheerful flourishes, until thelast laggard of the camp was at his post; but the instant the Britishfifes had blown their shrill signal, they became mute. In the meantimethe day had dawned, and when the line of the French army was ready toreceive its general, the rays of a brilliant sun were glancing along theglittering array. Then that success, which was already so well known,was officially announced; the favored band who were selected to guardthe gates of the fort were detailed, and defiled before their chief; thesignal of their approach was given, and all the usual preparations for achange of masters were ordered and executed directly under the guns ofthe contested works.
A very different scene presented itself within the lines of theAnglo-American army. As soon as the warning signal was given, itexhibited all the signs of a hurried and forced departure. The sullensoldiers shouldered their empty tubes and fell into their places, likemen whose blood had been heated by the past contest, and who onlydesired the opportunity to revenge an indignity which was still woundingto their pride, concealed as it was under all the observances ofmilitary etiquette. Women and children ran from place to place, somebearing the scanty remnants of their baggage, and others searching inthe ranks for those countenances they looked up to for protection.
Munro appeared among his silent troops firm but dejected. It was evidentthat the unexpected blow had struck deep into his heart, though hestruggled to sustain his misfortune with the port of man.
Duncan was touched at the quiet and impressive exhibition of his grief.He had discharged his own duty, and he now pressed to the side of theold man, to know in what particular he might serve him.
"My daughters," was the brief but expressive reply.
"Good heavens! are not arrangements already made for their convenience?"
"To-day I am only a soldier, Major Heyward," said the veteran. "All thatyou see here, claim alike to be my children."
Duncan had heard enough. Without losing one of those moments which hadnow become so precious, he flew towards the quarters of Munro, in questof the sisters. He found them on the threshold of the low edifice,already prepared to depart, and surrounded by a clamorous and weepingassemblage of their own sex, that had gathered about the place, with asort of instinctive consciousness that it was the point most likely tobe protected. Though the cheeks of Cora were pale, and her countenanceanxious, she had lost none of her firmness; but the eyes of Alice wereinflamed, and betrayed how long and bitterly she had wept. They both,however, received the young man with undisguised pleasure; the former,for a novelty, being the first to speak.
"The fort is lost," she said, with a melancholy smile; "though our goodname, I trust, remains."
"'Tis brighter than ever. But, dearest Miss Munro, it is time to thinkless of others, and to make some provision for yourself. Militaryusage,--pride,--that pride on which you so much value yourself, demandsthat your father and I should for a little while continue with thetroops. Then where to seek a proper protector for you against theconfusion and chances of such a scene?"
"None is necessary," returned Cora; "who will dare to injure or insultthe daughter of such a father, at a time like this?"
"I would not leave you alone," continued the youth, looking about him ina hurried manner, "for the command of the best regiment in the pay ofthe king. Remember, our Alice is not gifted with all your firmness, andGod only knows the terror she might endure."
"You may be right," Cora replied, smiling again, but far more sadly thanbefore. "Listen! chance has already sent us a friend when he is mostneeded."
Duncan did listen, and on the instant comprehended her meaning. The lowand serious sounds of the sacred music, so well known to the easternprovinces, caught his ear, and instantly drew him to an apartment in anadjacent building, which had already been deserted by its customarytenants. There he found David, pouring out his pious feelings, throughthe only medium in which he ever indulged. Duncan waited, until, by thecessation of the movement of the hand, he believed the strain was ended,when, by touching his shoulder, he drew the attention of the other tohimself, and in a few words explained his wishes.
"Even so," replied the single-minded disciple of the King of Israel,when the young man had ended; "I have found much that is comely andmelodious in the maidens, and it is fitting that we who have consortedin so much peril, should abide together in peace. I will attend them,when I have completed my morning praise, to which nothing is now wantingbut the doxology. Wilt thou bear a part, friend? The metre is common,and the tune, 'Southwell.'"
Then, extending the little volume, and giving the pitch of the air anewwith considerate attention, David recommenced and finished his strains,with a fixedness of manner that it was not easy to interrupt. Heywardwas fain to wait until the verse was ended; when, seeing David relievinghimself from the spectacles, and replacing the book, he continued,--
"It will be your duty to see that none dare to approach the ladies withany rude intention, or to offer insult or taunt at the misfortune oftheir brave father. In this task you will be seconded by the domesticsof their household."
"Even so."
"It is possible that the Indians and stragglers of the enemy mayintrude, in which case you will remind them of the terms of thecapitulation, and threaten to report their conduct to Montcalm. A wordwill suffice."
"If not, I have that here which shall," returned David, exhibiting hisbook, with an air in which meekness and confidence were singularlyblended. "Here are words which, uttered, or rather thundered, withproper emphasis, and in measured time, shall quiet the most unrulytemper:--
"'Why rage the heathen furiously!'"--
"Enough," said Heyward, interrupting the burst of his musicalinvocation: "we understand each other; it is time that we should nowassume our respective duties."
Gamut cheerfully assented, and together they sought the females. Corareceived her new, and somewhat extraordinary protector, courteously atleast; and even the pallid features of Alice lighted again with some oftheir native archness as she thanked Heyward for his care. Duncan tookoccasion to assure them he had done the best that circumstancespermitted, and, as he believed, quite enough for the security of theirfeelings; of danger there was none. He then spoke gladly of hisintention to rejoin them the moment he had led the advance a few milestowards the Hudson, and immediately took his leave.
By this time the signal of departure had been given, and the head of theEnglish column was in motion. The sisters started at the sound, andglancing their eyes around, they saw the white uniforms of the Frenchgrenadiers, who had already taken possession of the gates of the fort.At that moment, an enormous cloud
seemed to pass suddenly above theirheads, and looking upward, they discovered that they stood beneath thewide folds of the standard of France.
"Let us go," said Cora; "this is no longer a fit place for the childrenof an English officer."
Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they left the parade,accompanied by the moving throng that surrounded them.
As they passed the gates, the French officers, who had learned theirrank, bowed often and low, forbearing, however, to intrude thoseattentions which they saw, with peculiar tact, might not be agreeable.As every vehicle and each beast of burden was occupied by the sick andwounded, Cora had decided to endure the fatigues of a foot march, ratherthan interfere with their comforts. Indeed, many a maimed and feeblesoldier was compelled to drag his exhausted limbs in the rear of thecolumns, for the want of the necessary means of conveyance, in thatwilderness. The whole, however, was in motion; the weak and wounded,groaning, and in suffering; their comrades, silent and sullen; and thewomen and children in terror, they knew not of what.
As the confused and timid throng left the protecting mounds of the fort,and issued on the open plain, the whole scene was at once presented totheir eyes. At a little distance on the right, and somewhat in the rear,the French army stood to their arms, Montcalm having collected hisparties, so soon as his guards had possession of the works. They wereattentive but silent observers of the proceedings of the vanquished,failing in none of the stipulated military honors, and offering no tauntor insult, in their success, to their less fortunate foes. Living massesof the English, to the amount in the whole of near three thousand, weremoving slowly across the plain, towards the common centre, and graduallyapproached each other, as they converged to the point of their march, avista cut through the lofty trees, where the road to the Hudson enteredthe forest. Along the sweeping borders of the woods, hung a dark cloudof savages, eying the passage of their enemies, and hovering, at adistance, like vultures, who were only kept from swooping on their prey,by the presence and restraint of a superior army. A few had straggledamong the conquered columns, where they stalked in sullen discontent;attentive, though, as yet, passive observers of the moving multitude.
The advance, with Heyward at its head, had already reached the defile,and was slowly disappearing, when the attention of Cora was drawn to acollection of stragglers, by the sounds of contention. A truantprovincial was paying the forfeit of his disobedience, by beingplundered of those very effects which had caused him to desert his placein the ranks. The man was of powerful frame, and too avaricious to partwith his goods without a struggle. Individuals from either partyinterfered; the one side to prevent, and the other to aid in therobbery. Voices grew loud and angry, and a hundred savages appeared, asit were by magic, where a dozen only had been seen a minute before. Itwas then that Cora saw the form of Magua gliding among his countrymen,and speaking with his fatal and artful eloquence. The mass of women andchildren stopped, and hovered together like alarmed and flutteringbirds. But the cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and thedifferent bodies again moved slowly onward.
The savages now fell back, and seemed content to let their enemiesadvance without further molestation. But as the female crowd approachedthem, the gaudy colors of a shawl attracted the eyes of a wild anduntutored Huron. He advanced to seize it, without the least hesitation.The woman, more in terror than through love of the ornament, wrapped herchild in the coveted article, and folded both more closely to her bosom.Cora was in the act of speaking, with an intent to advise the woman toabandon the trifle, when the savage relinquished his hold of the shawl,and tore the screaming infant from her arms. Abandoning everything tothe greedy grasp of those around her, the mother darted, withdistraction in her mien, to reclaim her child. The Indian smiled grimly,and extended one hand, in sign of a willingness to exchange, while withthe other, he flourished the babe over his head, holding it by the feetas if to enhance the value of the ransom.
"Here--here--there--all--any--everything!" exclaimed the breathlesswoman; tearing the lighter articles of dress from her person, withill-directed and trembling fingers; "take all, but give me my babe!"
The savage spurned the worthless rags, and perceiving that the shawl hadalready become a prize to another, his bantering but sullen smilechanging to a gleam of ferocity, he dashed the head of the infantagainst a rock, and cast its quivering remains to her very feet. For aninstant, the mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking wildly downat the unseemly object, which had so lately nestled in her bosom andsmiled in her face; and then she raised her eyes and countenance towardsheaven, as if calling on God to curse the perpetrator of the foul deed.She was spared the sin of such a prayer; for, maddened at hisdisappointment, and excited at the sight of blood, the Huron mercifullydrove his tomahawk into her own brain. The mother sank under the blow,and fell, grasping at her child, in death, with the same engrossing lovethat had caused her to cherish it when living.
At that dangerous moment Magua placed his hands to his mouth, and raisedthe fatal and appalling whoop. The scattered Indians started at thewell-known cry, as coursers bound at the signal to quit the goal; and,directly, there arose such a yell along the plain, and through thearches of the wood, as seldom burst from human lips before. They whoheard it listened with a curdling horror at the heart, little inferiorto that dread which may be expected to attend the blasts of the finalsummons.
More than two thousand raving savages broke from the forest at thesignal, and threw themselves across the fatal plain with instinctivealacrity. We shall not dwell on the revolting horrors that succeeded.Death was everywhere, and in his most terrific and disgusting aspects.Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted theirfurious blows long after their victims were beyond the power of theirresentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of atorrent; and, as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight,many among them even kneeled to the earth, and drank freely, exultingly,hellishly, of the crimson tide.
The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly into solidmasses, endeavoring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearanceof a military front. The experiment in some measure succeeded, thoughfar too many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from theirhands, in the vain hope of appeasing the savages.
In such a scene none had leisure to note the fleeting moments. It mighthave been ten minutes (it seemed an age), that the sisters had stoodriveted to one spot, horror-stricken, and nearly helpless. When thefirst blow was struck, their screaming companions had pressed upon themin a body, rendering flight impossible; and now that fear or death hadscattered most, if not all, from around them, they saw no avenue open,but such as conducted to the tomahawks of their foes. On every sidearose shrieks, groans, exhortations, and curses. At this moment Alicecaught a glimpse of the vast form of her father, moving rapidly acrossthe plain, in the direction of the French army. He was, in truth,proceeding to Montcalm, fearless of every danger, to claim the tardyescort for which he had before conditioned. Fifty glittering axes andbarbed spears were offered unheeded at his life, but the savagesrespected his rank and calmness, even in their fury. The dangerousweapons were brushed aside by the still nervous arm of the veteran, orfell of themselves, after menacing an act that it would seem no one hadcourage to perform. Fortunately, the vindictive Magua was searching forhis victim in the very band the veteran had just quitted.
"Father--father--we are here!" shrieked Alice, as he passed, at no greatdistance, without appearing to heed them. "Come to us, father, or wedie!"
The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones that might have melted aheart of stone, but it was unanswered. Once, indeed, the old manappeared to catch the sounds, for he paused and listened; but Alice haddropped senseless on the earth, and Cora had sunk at her side, hoveringin untiring tenderness over her lifeless form. Munro shook his head indisappointment, and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his station.
"Lady," said Gamut, who, helpless and useless as he was, had not yetdreamed of
deserting his trust, "it is the jubilee of the devils, andthis is not a meet place for Christians to tarry in. Let us up and fly."
"Go," said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister; "save thyself.To me thou canst not be of further use."
David comprehended the unyielding character of her resolution, by thesimple but expressive gesture that accompanied her words. He gazed, fora moment, at the dusky forms that were acting their hellish rites onevery side of him, and his tall person grew more erect, while his chestheaved, and every feature swelled, and seemed to speak with the power ofthe feelings by which he was governed.
"If the Jewish boy might tame the evil spirit of Saul by the sound ofhis harp, and the words of sacred song, it may not be amiss," he said,"to try the potency of music here."
Then raising his voice to its highest tones, he poured out a strain sopowerful as to be heard even amid the din of that bloody field. Morethan one savage rushed towards them, thinking to rifle the unprotectedsisters of their attire, and bear away their scalps; but when they foundthis strange and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused tolisten. Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they passed on toother and less courageous victims, openly expressing their satisfactionat the firmness with which the white warrior sang his death song.Encouraged and deluded by his success, David exerted all his powers toextend what he believed so holy an influence. The unwonted sounds caughtthe ears of a distant savage, who flew raging from group to group, likeone who, scorning to touch the vulgar herd, hunted for some victim moreworthy of his renown. It was Magua, who uttered a yell of pleasure whenhe beheld his ancient prisoners again at his mercy.
"Come," he said, laying his soiled hands on the dress of Cora, "thewigwam of the Huron is still open. Is it not better than this place?"
"Away!" cried Cora, veiling her eyes from his revolting aspect.
The Indian laughed tauntingly, as he held up his reeking hand, andanswered,--"It is red, but it comes from white veins!"
"Monster! there is blood, oceans of blood, upon thy soul; thy spirit hasmoved this scene."
"Magua is a great chief!" returned the exulting savage; "will the darkhair go to his tribe?"
"Never! strike, if thou wilt, and complete thy revenge."
He hesitated a moment; and then catching the light and senseless form ofAlice in his arms, the subtle Indian moved swiftly across the plaintowards the woods.
"Hold!" shrieked Cora, following wildly on his footsteps; "release thechild! wretch! what is't you do?"
But Magua was deaf to her voice; or rather he knew his power, and wasdetermined to maintain it.
"Stay--lady--stay," called Gamut, after the unconscious Cora. "The holycharm is beginning to be felt, and soon shalt thou see this horridtumult stilled."
Perceiving that, in his turn, he was unheeded, the faithful Davidfollowed the distracted sister, raising his voice again in sacred song,and sweeping the air to the measure, with his long arm, in diligentaccompaniment. In this manner they traversed the plain, through theflying, the wounded, and the dead. The fierce Huron was, at any time,sufficient for himself and the victim that he bore; though Cora wouldhave fallen, more than once, under the blows of her savage enemies, butfor the extraordinary being who stalked in her rear, and who nowappeared to the astonished natives gifted with the protecting spirit ofmadness.
Magua, who knew how to avoid the more pressing dangers, and also toelude pursuit, entered the woods through a low ravine, where he quicklyfound the Narragansetts, which the travellers had abandoned so shortlybefore, awaiting his appearance, in custody of a savage as fierce and asmalign in his expression as himself. Laying Alice on one of the horses,he made a sign to Cora to mount the other.
Notwithstanding the horror excited by the presence of her captor, therewas a present relief in escaping from the bloody scene enacting on theplain, to which Cora could not be altogether insensible. She took herseat, and held forth her arms for her sister, with an air of entreatyand love that even the Huron could not deny. Placing Alice, then, on thesame animal with Cora, he seized the bridle, and commenced his route byplunging deeper into the forest. David, perceiving that he was leftalone, utterly disregarded, as a subject too worthless even to destroy,threw his long limb across the saddle of the beast they had deserted,and made such progress in the pursuit as the difficulties of the pathpermitted.
They soon began to ascend, but as the motion had a tendency to revivethe dormant faculties of her sister, the attention of Cora was too muchdivided between the tenderest solicitude in her behalf, and in listeningto the cries which were still too audible on the plain, to note thedirection in which they journeyed. When, however, they gained theflattened surface of the mountain-top, and approached the easternprecipice, she recognized the spot to which she had once before been ledunder the more friendly auspices of the scout. Here Magua suffered themto dismount; and, notwithstanding their own captivity, the curiositywhich seems inseparable from horror, induced them to gaze at thesickening sight below.
The cruel work was still unchecked. On every side the captured wereflying before their relentless persecutors, while the armed columns ofthe Christian king stood fast in an apathy which has never beenexplained, and which has left an unmovable blot on the otherwise fairescutcheon of their leader. Nor was the sword of death stayed untilcupidity got the mastery of revenge. Then, indeed, the shrieks of thewounded and the yells of their murderers grew less frequent, until,finally, the cries of horror were lost to their ear, or were drowned inthe loud, long, and piercing whoops of the triumphant savages.
The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757 Page 17
