CHAPTER XXIII
"But though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim; Though space and law the stag we lend Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend; Who ever recked, where, how, or when The prowling fox was trapped or slain?"
_Lady of the Lake._
It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like those of themore instructed whites, guarded by the presence of armed men. Wellinformed of the approach of every danger, while it is yet at a distance,the Indian generally rests secure under his knowledge of the signs ofthe forest, and the long and difficult paths that separate him fromthose he has most reason to dread. But the enemy who, by any luckyconcurrence of accidents, has found means to elude the vigilance of thescouts, will seldom meet with sentinels nearer home to sound the alarm.In addition to this general usage, the tribes friendly to the Frenchknew too well the weight of the blow that had just been struck, toapprehend any immediate danger from the hostile nations that weretributary to the crown of Britain.
When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves in the centre of thechildren, who played the antics already mentioned, it was with the leastprevious intimation of their approach. But so soon as they wereobserved, the whole of the juvenile pack raised, by common consent, ashrill and warning whoop; and then sank, as it were, by magic, frombefore the sight of their visitors. The naked, tawny bodies of thecrouching urchins blended so nicely, at that hour, with the witheredherbage, that at first it seemed as if the earth had, in truth,swallowed up their forms; though when surprise permitted Duncan to bendhis look more curiously about the spot, he found it everywhere met bydark, quick, and rolling eyeballs.
Gathering no encouragement from this startling presage of the nature ofthe scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the more mature judgments ofthe men, there was an instant when the young soldier would haveretreated. It was, however, too late to appear to hesitate. The cry ofthe children had drawn a dozen warriors to the door of the nearestlodge, where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group, gravelyawaiting the nearer approach of those who had unexpectedly come amongthem.
David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the way with asteadiness that no slight obstacle was likely to disconcert, into thisvery building. It was the principal edifice of the village, thoughroughly constructed of the bark and branches of trees; being the lodgein which the tribe held its councils and public meetings during theirtemporary residence on the borders of the English province. Duncan foundit difficult to assume the necessary appearance of unconcern, as hebrushed the dark and powerful frames of the savages who thronged itsthreshold; but, conscious that his existence depended on his presence ofmind, he trusted to the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps heclosely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally his thoughtsfor the occasion. His blood curdled when he found himself in absolutecontact with such fierce and implacable enemies; but he so far masteredhis feelings as to pursue his way into the centre of the lodge, with anexterior that did not betray the weakness. Imitating the example of thedeliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle of fragrant brush from beneath a pilethat filled a corner of the hut, and seated himself in silence.
So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant warriors fell backfrom the entrance, and arranging themselves about him, they seemedpatiently to await the moment when it might comport with the dignity ofthe stranger to speak. By far the greater number stood leaning, in lazy,lounging attitudes, against the upright posts that supported the crazybuilding, while three or four of the oldest and most distinguished ofthe chiefs placed themselves on the earth a little more in advance.
A flaring torch was burning in the place, and sent its red glare fromface to face and figure to figure, as it waved in the currents of air.Duncan profited by its light to read the probable character of hisreception, in the countenances of his hosts. But his ingenuity availedhim little, against the cold artifices of the people he had encountered.The chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping theireyes on the ground, with an air that might have been intended forrespect, but which it was quite easy to construe into distrust. The menin shadow were less reserved. Duncan soon detected their searching, butstolen looks, which, in truth, scanned his person and attire inch byinch; leaving no emotion of the countenance, no gesture, no line of thepaint, nor even the fashion of a garment, unheeded, and without comment.
At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprinkled with gray, butwhose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced that he was still equal tothe duties of manhood, advanced out of the gloom of a corner, whither hehad probably posted himself to make his observations unseen, and spoke.He used the language of the Wyandots, or Hurons; his words were,consequently, unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed, by thegestures that accompanied them, to be uttered more in courtesy thananger. The latter shook his head, and made a gesture indicative of hisinability to reply.
"Do none of my brothers speak the French or the English?" he said, inthe former language, looking about him from countenance to countenance,in hopes of finding a nod of assent.
Though more than one had turned, as if to catch the meaning of hiswords, they remained unanswered.
"I should be grieved to think," continued Duncan, speaking slowly, andusing the simplest French of which he was the master, "to believe, thatnone of this wise and brave nation understand the language that the'Grand Monarque' uses when he talks to his children. His heart would beheavy did he believe his red warriors paid him so little respect!"
A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement of a limb,nor any expression of an eye, betrayed the impression produced by hisremark. Duncan, who knew that silence was a virtue among his hosts,gladly had recourse to the custom, in order to arrange his ideas. Atlength the same warrior who had before addressed him replied, by drylydemanding, in the language of the Canadas--
"When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it with the tongue of aHuron?"
"He knows no difference in his children, whether the color of the skinbe red, or black, or white," returned Duncan, evasively; "though chieflyis he satisfied with the brave Hurons."
"In what manner will he speak," demanded the wary chief, "when therunners count to him the scalps which five nights ago grew on the headsof the Yengeese?"
"They were his enemies," said Duncan, shuddering involuntarily; "and,doubtless, he will say, It is good; my Hurons are very gallant."
"Our Canada father does not think it. Instead of looking forward toreward his Indians, his eyes are turned backward. He sees the deadYengeese, but no Huron. What can this mean?"
"A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than tongues. He looks tosee that no enemies are on his trail."
"The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the Horican," returnedthe savage, gloomily. "His ears are open to the Delawares, who are notour friends, and they fill them with lies."
"It cannot be. See; he has bid me, who am a man that knows the art ofhealing, to go to his children, the red Hurons of the great lakes, andask if any are sick!"
Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character Duncan hadassumed. Every eye was simultaneously bent on his person, as if toinquire into the truth or falsehood of the declaration, with anintelligence and keenness that caused the subject of their scrutiny totremble for the result. He was, however, relieved again by the formerspeaker.
"Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their skins?" the Huron coldlycontinued; "we have heard them boast that their faces were pale."
"When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers," returned Duncan,with great steadiness, "he lays aside his buffalo robe, to carry theshirt that is offered him. My brothers have given me paint, and I wearit."
A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment to the tribe wasfavorably received. The elderly chief made a gesture of commendation,which was answered by most of his companions, who each threw forth ahand, and uttered a brief exclamation of pleasure. Duncan began tobreathe more freely, believing th
at the weight of his examination waspast; and as he had already prepared a simple and probable tale tosupport his pretended occupation, his hopes of ultimate success grewbrighter.
After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his thoughts, in orderto make a suitable answer to the declaration their guest had just given,another warrior arose, and placed himself in an attitude to speak. Whilehis lips were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful sound arosefrom the forest, and was immediately succeeded by a high, shrill yell,that was drawn out, until it equalled the longest and most plaintivehowl of the wolf. The sudden and terrible interruption caused Duncan tostart from his seat, unconscious of everything but the effect producedby so frightful a cry. At the same moment, the warriors glided in a bodyfrom the lodge, and the outer air was filled with loud shouts, thatnearly drowned those awful sounds, which were still ringing beneath thearches of the woods. Unable to command himself any longer, the youthbroke from the place, and presently stood in the centre of a disorderlythrong, that included nearly everything having life, within the limitsof the encampment. Men, women, and children; the aged, the infirm, theactive, and the strong, were alike abroad; some exclaiming aloud, othersclapping their hands with a joy that seemed frantic, and all expressingtheir savage pleasure in some unexpected event. Though astounded, atfirst, by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to find its solution bythe scene that followed.
There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to exhibit thosebright openings among the tree-tops, where different paths left theclearing to enter the depths of the wilderness. Beneath one of them, aline of warriors issued from the woods, and advanced slowly towards thedwellings. One in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwardsappeared, were suspended several human scalps. The startling sounds thatDuncan had heard were what the whites have not inappropriately calledthe "death-halloo;" and each repetition of the cry was intended toannounce to the tribe the fate of an enemy. Thus far the knowledge ofHeyward assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew that theinterruption was caused by the unlooked-for return of a successfulwar-party, every disagreeable sensation was quieted in inwardcongratulation, for the opportune relief and insignificance it conferredon himself.
When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the lodges, the newlyarrived warriors halted. Their plaintive and terrific cry, which wasintended to represent equally the wailings of the dead and the triumphof the victors, had entirely ceased. One of their number now calledaloud, in words that were far from appalling, though not moreintelligible to those for whose ears they were intended, than theirexpressive yells. It would be difficult to convey a suitable idea of thesavage ecstasy with which the news thus imparted was received. The wholeencampment, in a moment, became a scene of the most violent bustle andcommotion. The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing them, theyarranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane that extended from thewar-party to the lodges. The squaws seized clubs, axes, or whateverweapon of offence first offered itself to their hands, and rushedeagerly to act their part in the cruel game that was at hand. Even thechildren would not be excluded; but boys, little able to wield theinstruments, tore the tomahawks from the belts of their fathers, andstole into the ranks, apt imitators of the savage traits exhibited bytheir parents.
Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, and a wary andaged squaw was occupied in firing as many as might serve to light thecoming exhibition. As the flame arose, its power exceeded that of theparting day, and assisted to render objects at the same time moredistinct and more hideous. The whole scene formed a striking picture,whose frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines. Thewarriors just arrived were the most distant figures. A little in advancestood two men, who were apparently selected from the rest, as theprincipal actors in what was to follow. The light was not strong enoughto render their features distinct, though it was quite evident that theywere governed by very different emotions. While one stood erect andfirm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero, the other bowed his head,as if palsied by terror or stricken with shame. The high-spirited Duncanfelt a powerful impulse of admiration and pity towards the former,though no opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions. Hewatched his slightest movement, however, with eager eyes; and as hetraced the fine outline of his admirably proportioned and active frame,he endeavored to persuade himself, that if the powers of man, secondedby such noble resolution, could bear one harmless through so severe atrial, the youthful captive before him might hope for success in thehazardous race he was about to run. Insensibly the young man drew nigherto the swarthy lines of the Hurons, and scarcely breathed, so intensebecame his interest in the spectacle. Just then the signal yell wasgiven, and the momentary quiet which had preceded it was broken by aburst of cries, that far exceeded any before heard. The most abject ofthe two victims continued motionless; but the other bounded from theplace at the cry, with the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead ofrushing through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he justentered the dangerous defile, and before time was given for a singleblow, turned short, and leaping the heads of a row of children, hegained at once the exterior and safer side of the formidable array. Theartifice was answered by a hundred voices raised in imprecations; andthe whole of the excited multitude broke from their order, and spreadthemselves about the place in wild confusion.
A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness on the place,which resembled some unhallowed and supernatural arena, in whichmalicious demons had assembled to act their bloody and lawless rites.The forms in the background looked like unearthly beings, gliding beforethe eye, and cleaving the air with frantic and unmeaning gestures; whilethe savage passions of such as passed the flames, were renderedfearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart their inflamedvisages.
It will easily be understood, that amid such a concourse of vindictiveenemies, no breathing time was allowed the fugitive. There was a singlemoment when it seemed as if he would have reached the forest, but thewhole body of his captors threw themselves before him, and drove himback into the centre of his relentless persecutors. Turning like aheaded deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow, through a pillarof forked flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he appearedon the opposite side of the clearing. Here too he was met and turned bya few of the older and more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried thethrong, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then several momentssucceeded, during which Duncan believed the active and courageous youngstranger was lost.
Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human forms tossed andinvolved in inexplicable confusion. Arms, gleaming knives, andformidable clubs, appeared above them, but the blows were evidentlygiven at random. The awful effect was heightened by the piercing shrieksof the women and the fierce yells of the warriors. Now and then Duncancaught a glimpse of a light form cleaving the air in some desperatebound, and he rather hoped than believed that the captive yet retainedthe command of his astonishing powers of activity. Suddenly themultitude rolled backward, and approached the spot where he himselfstood. The heavy body in the rear pressed upon the women and children infront, and bore them to the earth. The stranger reappeared in theconfusion. Human power could not, however, much longer endure so severea trial. Of this the captive seemed conscious. Profiting by themomentary opening, he darted from among the warriors, and made adesperate, and, what seemed to Duncan, a final effort to gain the wood.As if aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young soldier,the fugitive nearly brushed his person in his flight. A tall andpowerful Huron, who had husbanded his forces, pressed close upon hisheels, and with an uplifted arm menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrustforth a foot, and the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, manyfeet in advance of his intended victim. Thought itself is not quickerthan was the motion with which the latter profited by the advantage; heturned, gleamed like a meteor again before the eyes of Duncan, and atthe next moment, when the latter recovered his recollection, and gazedaround in quest of the captive
, he saw him quietly leaning against asmall painted post, which stood before the door of the principal lodge.
Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might prove fatalto himself, Duncan left the place without delay. He followed the crowd,which drew nigh the lodges, gloomy and sullen, like any other multitudethat had been disappointed in an execution. Curiosity, or perhaps abetter feeling, induced him to approach the stranger. He found him,standing with one arm cast about the protecting post, and breathingthick and hard, after his exertions, but disdaining to permit a singlesign of suffering to escape. His person was now protected by immemorialand sacred usage, until the tribe in council had deliberated anddetermined on his fate. It was not difficult, however, to foretell theresult, if any presage could be drawn from the feelings of those whocrowded the place.
There was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary that thedisappointed women did not lavishly expend on the successful stranger.They flouted at his efforts, and told him, with bitter scoffs, that hisfeet were better than his hands; and that he merited wings, while heknew not the use of an arrow or a knife. To all this the captive made noreply; but was content to preserve an attitude in which dignity wassingularly blended with disdain. Exasperated as much by his composure asby his good-fortune, their words became unintelligible, and weresucceeded by shrill, piercing yells. Just then the crafty squaw, who hadtaken the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way throughthe throng, and cleared a place for herself in front of the captive. Thesqualid and withered person of this hag might well have obtained for herthe character of possessing more than human cunning. Throwing back herlight vestment, she stretched forth her long skinny arm, in derision,and using the language of the Lenape, as more intelligible to thesubject of her gibes, she commenced aloud--
"Look you, Delaware!" she said, snapping her fingers in his face; "yournation is a race of women, and the hoe is better fitted to your handsthan the gun. Your squaws are the mothers of deer; but if a bear, or awild cat, or a serpent were born among you, ye would flee. The Hurongirls shall make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband."
A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during which the softand musical merriment of the younger females strangely chimed with thecracked voice of their older and more malignant companion. But thestranger was superior to all their efforts. His head was immovable; nordid he betray the slightest consciousness that any were present, exceptwhen his haughty eye rolled towards the dusky forms of the warriors, whostalked in the background, silent and sullen observers of the scene.
Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the woman placed her armsakimbo; and throwing herself into a posture of defiance, she broke outanew, in a torrent of words that no art of ours could commitsuccessfully to paper. Her breath was, however, expended in vain; for,although distinguished in her own nation as a proficient in the art ofabuse, she was permitted to work herself into such a fury as actually tofoam at the mouth, without causing a muscle to vibrate in the motionlessfigure of the stranger. The effect of his indifference began to extenditself to the other spectators; and a youngster, who was just quittingthe condition of a boy, to enter the state of manhood, attempted toassist the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before their victim,and adding his empty boasts to the taunts of the woman. Then, indeed,the captive turned his face towards the light, and looked down on thestripling with an expression that was superior to contempt. At the nextmoment he resumed his quiet and reclining attitude against the post. Butthe change of posture had permitted Duncan to exchange glances with thefirm and piercing eyes of Uncas.
_Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_
THE TERMAGANT
_Throwing back her light vestment, she stretched forth her long skinnyarm, in derision_]
Breathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed with the criticalsituation of his friend, Heyward recoiled before the look, tremblinglest its meaning might, in some unknown manner, hasten the prisoner'sfate. There was not, however, any instant cause for such anapprehension. Just then a warrior forced his way into the exasperatedcrowd. Motioning the women and children aside with a stern gesture, hetook Uncas by the arm, and led him towards the door of the councillodge. Thither all the chiefs, and most of the distinguished warriors,followed; among whom the anxious Heyward found means to enter withoutattracting any dangerous attention to himself.
A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those present in a mannersuitable to their rank and influence in the tribe. An order very similarto that adopted in the preceding interview was observed; the aged andsuperior chiefs occupying the area of the spacious apartment, within thepowerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and inferiorswere arranged in the background, presenting a dark outline of swarthyand marked visages. In the very centre of the lodge, immediately underan opening that admitted the twinkling light of one or two stars, stoodUncas, calm, elevated, and collected. His high and haughty carriage wasnot lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his person, witheyes which, while they lost none of their inflexibility of purpose,plainly betrayed their admiration of the stranger's daring.
The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had observed tostand forth with his friend, previously to the desperate trial of speed;and who, instead of joining in the chase, had remained, throughout itsturbulent uproar, like a cringing statue, expressive of shame anddisgrace. Though not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet aneye had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered thelodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he submitted,seemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited by the first opportunityto gaze in his face, secretly apprehensive he might find the features ofanother acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger, and,what was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all the distinctivemarks of a Huron warrior. Instead of mingling with his tribe, however,he sat apart, a solitary being in a multitude, his form shrinking into acrouching and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space aspossible. When each individual had taken his proper station, and silencereigned in the place, the gray-haired chief already introduced to thereader, spoke aloud, in the language of the Lenni Lenape.
"Delaware," he said, "though one of a nation of women, you have provedyourself a man. I would give you food; but he who eats with a Huronshould become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when ourlast words shall be spoken."
"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the trail ofthe Hurons," Uncas coldly replied; "the children of the Lenape know howto travel the path of the just without lingering to eat."
"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion," resumed theother, without appearing to regard the boast of his captive; "when theyget back, then will our wise men say to you 'live' or 'die.'"
"Has a Huron no ears?" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; "twice, since he hasbeen your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a gun that he knows. Youryoung men will never come back!"
A short and sullen pause succeeded this bold assertion. Duncan, whounderstood the Mohican to allude to the fatal rifle of the scout, bentforward in earnest observation of the effect it might produce on theconquerors; but the chief was content with simply retorting,--
"If the Lenape are so skilful, why is one of their bravest warriorshere?"
"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into a snare. Thecunning beaver may be caught."
As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger toward the solitaryHuron, but without deigning to bestow any other notice on so unworthy anobject. The words of the answer and the air of the speaker produced astrong sensation among his auditors. Every eye rolled sullenly towardsthe individual indicated by the simple gesture, and a low, threateningmurmur passed through the crowd. The ominous sounds reached the outerdoor, and the women and children pressing into the throng, no gap hadbeen left, between shoulder and shoulder, that was not now filled withthe dark lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance.
&n
bsp; In the meantime, the more aged chiefs, in the centre, communed with eachother in short and broken sentences. Not a word was uttered that did notconvey the meaning of the speaker, in the simplest and most energeticform. Again, a long and deeply solemn pause took place. It was known,by all present, to be the grave precursor of a weighty and importantjudgment. They who composed the outer circle of faces were on tiptoe togaze; and even the culprit for an instant forgot his shame in a deeperemotion, and exposed his abject features, in order to cast an anxiousand troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs. The silence wasfinally broken by the aged warrior so often named. He arose from theearth, and moving past the immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in adignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the witheredsquaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow, sideling sortof a dance, holding the torch, and muttering the indistinct words ofwhat might have been a species of incantation. Though her presence wasaltogether an intrusion, it was unheeded.
Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a manner as tocast its red glare on his person, and to expose the slightest emotion ofhis countenance. The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude;and his eye, so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dweltsteadily on the distance, as though it penetrated the obstacles whichimpeded the view, and looked into futurity. Satisfied with herexamination, she left him, with a slight expression of pleasure, andproceeded to practise the same trying experiment on her delinquentcountryman.
The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a finelymoulded form was concealed by his attire. The light rendered every limband joint discernible, and Duncan turned away in horror when he saw theywere writhing in irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low andplaintive howl at the sad and shameful spectacle, when the chief putforth his hand and gently pushed her aside.
"Reed-that-bends," he said, addressing the young culprit by name, and inhis proper language, "though the Great Spirit has made you pleasant tothe eyes, it would have been better that you had not been born. Yourtongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still. None of myyoung men strike the tomahawk deeper into the war-post--none of them solightly on the Yengeese. The enemy know the shape of your back, but theyhave never seen the color of your eyes. Three times have they called onyou to come, and as often did you forget to answer. Your name will neverbe mentioned again in your tribe--it is already forgotten."
As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing impressively betweeneach sentence, the culprit raised his face, in deference to the other'srank and years. Shame, horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments.His eye, which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on thepersons of those whose breath was his fame; and the latter emotion foran instant predominated. He arose to his feet, and baring his bosom,looked steadily on the keen, glittering knife, that was already upheldby his inexorable judge. As the weapon passed slowly into his heart heeven smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful than hehad anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at the feet of the rigidand unyielding form of Uncas.
The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch to the earth,and buried everything in darkness. The whole shuddering group ofspectators glided from the lodge, like troubled sprites; and Duncanthought that he and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an Indianjudgment had now become its only tenants.
The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757 Page 23
