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23 - The Last Of The Mohicans - James Cooper · Adventure Books Library

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Chapter twenty three. Quote. But though the beast of game the privilege of
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chase may claim, though space and law, the stag we lend, ere
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hound, we slip, or bow we bend whoever wrecked, where, how
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or when the prowling fox was trapped or slain Unquote from Lady of the Lake.
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It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like those of
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the more instructed Whites, guarded by the presence of armed men, well informed
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of the approach of every danger, while it is yet at a distance.
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The Indian generally rests secure under his knowledge of the signs of the forest and
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the long and difficult paths that separate him from those he has most reason to
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dread. But the enemy, who, by any lucky concurrence of accidents,
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has found means to elude the vigilance of the scot will seldom meet with sentinels
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near home to sound the alarm. In addition to this general usage, the
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tribes friendly to the French knew too well the weight of the blow that had
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just been struck to apprehend any immediate danger from the hostile nations that were tributary
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to the Crown of Britain. When Duncan and David therefore found themselves in the
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center of the children, who played the antics already mentioned, it was without
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the least previous intimation of their approach. But soon as they were observed,
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the whole of the juvenile pack raised by common consent a shrill and warning hoop,
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and then sank, as it were, by magic, from before the
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sight of their visitors. The naked, tawny bodies of the crouching urchins blended
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so nicely at that hour with the withered herbage that at first it seemed as
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if the earth had, in truth swallowed up their forms. Though when surprise
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permitted Duncan to bend his look more curiously about the spot, he found it
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everywhere met by dark, quick and rolling eyeballs. Gathering no encouragement from this
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startling presage of the nature of the scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the
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more mature judgments of the men. There was an instant when the young soldier
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would have retreated. It was, however, too late to appear to hesitate.
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The cry of the children had drawn a dozen warriors to the door of
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the nearest lodge, where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group,
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gravely awaiting the nearer approach of those who had unexpectedly come among them, David,
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in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the way with the steadiness
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that no slight obstacle was likely to disconcert into this very building. It was
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the principal edifice of the village, though roughly constructed of the bark and branches
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of trees, being the lodge in which the tribe held its councils and public
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meetings during their temporary residence on the borders of the English province. Duncan found
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it difficult to assume the necessary appearance of unconcern as he brushed the dark and
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powerful frames of the savages who thronged its threshold. But conscious that his existence
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depended on his presence of mind, he trusted to the discretion of his companion,
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who footstepsy closely followed, endeavoring as he proceeded to rally his thoughts for
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the occasion. His blood curdled when he found himself in absolute contact with such
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fierce and implacable enemies, but he so far mastered his feelings to pursue his
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way into the center of the lodge with an exterior that did not betray the
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weakness. Imitating the example of the deliberate Gamout, he drew a bundle of
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fragrant brush from beneath a pile that filled the corner of the hut, and
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seated himself in silence. So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant
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warriors fell back from the entrance, and arranging themselves about him, they seemed
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patiently to await the moment when it might comport with the dignity of the stranger
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to speak. By far the greater numbers stood leaning in lazy, lounging attitudes
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against the upright post that supported the crazy building, while three or four of
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the oldest and most distinguished of the chiefs placed themselves on the earth. A
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little more in advance. A flaring torch was burning in the place, and
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set its red glare from face to face and figure to figure as it waved
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in the currents of air. Duncan profited by its light to read the probable
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character of his reception in the countenances of his host, but his ingenuity availed
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him little against the cold artifices of the people he had encountered. The chiefs
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in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping their eyes on the
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ground, with an air that might have been intended for respect, but which
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it was quite easy to construe into distrust. The men in the shadow were
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less reserved. Duncan soon detected their searching but stolen looks, which in truth
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scanned his person and attire inch by inch, leaving no emotion of the countenance,
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no gesture, no line of the paint, nor even the fashion of
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a garment, unheeded and without comment. At length, one whose hair was
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beginning to be sprinkled with gray, but whose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced
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that he was still equal to the duties of manhood, advanced out of the
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gloom of a corner whither he had probably posted himself to make his observations unseen,
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and spoke. He used the language of the Wyandots or Hurons. His
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words were consequently unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed, by the gestures that
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accompanied them, to be uttered more in courtesy than anger. The latter shook
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his head and made a gesture indicative of his inability to reply. Do none
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of my brothers speak the French or the English. He said in the former
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language, looking about him from countenance to countenance, in hopes of finding a
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nod of assent. Though more than one had turned as if to catch the
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meaning of his words, they remained unanswered. I should be grieved to think,
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continued Duncan, speaking slowly and using the simplest French of which he was
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the master. To believe that none of this wise and brave nation understand the
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language that the Grand Marquis uses when he talks to his children, his heart
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would be heavy, did he believe his red warriors paid him so little respect.
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A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement of a limb
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nor any expression of an eye betrayed the expression produced by it's remark. Duncan,
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who knew that silence was a virtue among his hosts, gladly had recourse
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to the custom in order to arrange his ideas. At length. The same
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warrior who had before addressed him replied by dryly demanding, in the language of
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the Canadas, when our great father speaks to his people, is it with
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the tongue of a huron. He knows no difference in his children whether the
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color of the skin, be red or black or white, returned Duncan evasively,
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though chiefly he is satisfied with the brave Huron. In what manner will
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he speak? Demanded the wary chief. When the runners count to him the
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scalps which five nights ago grew on the heads of the Yengeese, they were
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his enemies, said Duncan, shuddering involuntarily. And doubtless he will say.
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It is good. My Hurons are very gallant. Our Canadian father does not
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think it. Instead of looking forward to reward his Indians, his eyes are
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turned backward. He sees the dead Yengeese, but know you're on What can
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this mean? O great chief, like him has more thoughts than tongues.
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He looks to see that no enemies are on his trail. The canoe of
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a dead warrior will not float on the Horican returned the savage gloomily. His
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ears are open to the Delawares, who are not our friends, and they
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fill them with lies. It cannot be see. He has bid me,
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who am a man that knows the art of healing, to go to his
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children, the red Hurons of the Great Lakes, and ask if any are
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sick. Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character Duncan had assumed. Every
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eye was simultaneously bent on his person, as if to inquire into the truth
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or falsehood of the declaration, with an intelligence and keenness that caused the subject
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of their scrutiny to tremble for the result. He was, however, relieved
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again by the former speaker. Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their
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skins? The huron coldly continued, We have heard them most that their faces
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were pale. When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers, returned Duncan
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with great steadiness. He lays aside his buffalo robe to carry the shirt that
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is offered him. My mothers have given me paint, and I wear it.
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A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment of the tribe was favorably
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received. The elderly chief made a gesture of commendation, which was answered by
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most of his companions, who each drew forth a hand and uttered a brief
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exclamation of pleasure. Duncan began to breathe more freely, believing that the weight
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of his examination was past, and as he had already prepared it simple and
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probable tale to support his pretend occupation. His hopes of ultimate success grew brighter.
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After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his thoughts in
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order to make a suitable answer to the declaration their guests had just given.
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Another warrior arose and placed himself in an attitude to speak. While his lips
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were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful sound arose from
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the forest. It was immediately succeeded by a high, shrill yell that was
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drawn out until it equaled the longest and most plaintive howl of the wolf.
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The sudden and terrible interruption caused Duncan to start from his seat, unconscious of
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everything but the effect produced by so frightful a cry. At the same moment,
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the warriors glided in a body from the lodge, and the outer air
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was filled with loud shouts that nearly drowned those awful sounds which were still ringing
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beneath the arches of the woods. Unable to command himself any longer, the
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youth broke from the place and presently stood in the center of a disorderly throng
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that included everything having life within the limits of the encampment. Men, women
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and children, the agent, the infirm, the active, and the strong
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were alike abroad, some exclaiming aloud, others clapping their hands with a joy
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that seemed frantic, and all expressing their savage pleasure in some unexpected event.
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Though astounded at first by the uproar, Heyward was soon able to find its
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solution by the scene that followed. There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens
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to exhibit those bright openings among the tree tops, where different paths left the
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clearing to enter the depths of the wilderness. Beneath one of them, a
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line of warriors issued from the woods and advanced slowly toward the dwellings. One
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in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwards appeared,
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were suspended several human scalps. The startling sounds that Duncan had heard were what
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the Whites have not inappropriately called the quote death halo unquote, and each repetition
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of the cry was intended to announce to the tribe the fate of an enemy.
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Thus far, the knowledge of Heyward assisted him in the explanation, and
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as he now knew that the interruption was caused by the unlooked for return of
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a successful war party. Every disagreeable sensation was quieted in inward congratulation for the
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opportune relief and insignificance it conferred on himself. When at the distance of a
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few hundred feet from the lodges, the newly arrived warriors halted their plaintive and
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terrific cry, which was intended to represent equally the waillings of the dead and
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the triumph to the victors, had entirely ceased. One of their number now
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called aloud in words that were far from appalling, though not more intelligible to
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those whose ears they were intended than their expressive yells. It would be difficult
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to convey a suitable idea of the savage ecstasy with which the news thus imparted
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was received. The whole encampment in a moment, became a scene of the
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most violent bustle and commotion. The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing them,
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they arranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane that extended from war
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party to the lodges. The squaws seized clubs, axes, or whatever weapon
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of offense first offered itself to their hands and rushed eagerly to act their part
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in the cruel game that was at hand. Even the children would not be
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excluded, but boys, little able to wield the instruments, tore the tomahawks
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from the belts of their fathers and stole into the ranks, apt imitators of
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the savage traits exhibited by their parents. Large piles of brush lay scattered about
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the clearing, and a wary and aged squaw was occupied in firing as many
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as might serve to light the coming exhibition. As the flame arose, its
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power exceeded that of the parting day and assisted to render objects at the same
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time more distinct and more hideous. The whole scene formed a striking picture,
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whose frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines. The warriors
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just arrived were the most distant figures. A little in advance stood two men
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who were apparently selected from the rest as the principal actors in what was to
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follow. The light was not strong enough to render their features distinct, though
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it was quite evident that they were governed by very different emotions. While one
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stood erect and firm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero. The
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other bowed his head, as if palsied by terror or stricken with shame.
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The high spirited Duncan felt a powerful impulse of admiration and pity toward the former,
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though no opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions. He watched his
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slightest movement, however, with eager eyes, and as he traced the fine
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outline of his admirably proportioned and the active frame, he endeavored to persuade himself
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that if the powers of man, seconded by such noble resolution, could bear
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one harmless through so severe a trial, the youthful captive before him might hope
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for success in the hazardous race he was about to run. Insensibly, the
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young man drew nigher to the swarthy lines of the Hurons and scarcely breathed,
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so intense became his interest in the spectacle. Just then the signal yell was
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given, and the momentary quiet that had preceded it was broken by a burst
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of cries that far exceeded any before heard. The more object of the two
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victims continued motionless, but the other bounded from the place of the cry with
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the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead of rushing through the hostile lines,
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as had been expected, he just entered the dangerous defile, and before
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time was given for a single blow, turned short and leaping the heads of
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a row of children, he gained at once the exterior and safer side of
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the formidable array. The artifice was answered by a hundred voices raised in imprecations,
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and the whole of the excited multitude broke from their order and spread themselves
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about the place in wild confusion. A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid
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brightness on the place, which resembled some unhallowed and supernatural arena in which the
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malicious demons had assembled to act their bloody and lawless rites. The forms in
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the background looked like unearthly beings gliding before the eye and cleaving the air with
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frantic and unmeaning gestures, while the savage passions of such as past the flames
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were rendered fearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart their inflamed visages. It
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will easily be understood that amid such a concourse of vindictive enemies, no breathing
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time was allowed. The fugitive There was a single moment when it seemed as
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if he would have reached the forest, but the whole body of his captors
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threw themselves before him and drove him back into the center of his relentless persecutors.
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Turning like a headed deer, he shot with the swiftness of an arrow
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through a pillar of forke flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he
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appeared on the opposite side of the clearing. Here, too, he was
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met and turned by a few of the older and more subtle of Urons.
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Once more, he tried the throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness,
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and then several moments succeeded, during which Duncan believed the active and courageous
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young stranger was lost. Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human
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forms, tossed and involved in inexplicable confusion. Arms, gleaming knives and formidable
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clubs appeared above them, but the blows were evidently given at random. The
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awful effect was heightened by the piercing shrieks of the women and the fierce yells
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of the warriors. Now and then Duncan caught a glimpse of a light form
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cleaving the air in some desperate bound, and he rather hoped than believed that
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the captive yet retained the command of his astonishing powers of activity. Suddenly the
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multitude rolled backward and approached the spot where he himself stood. The heavy body
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in the rear pressed upon the woman and children in front, and bore them
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to the earth. The stranger reappeared in the confusion. Human power could not,
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however, much longer endure so severe a trial of this. The captive
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seemed conscious, profiting by the momentary opening he guarded from among the warriors,
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and made a desperate and what seemed to Duncan a final effort to gain the
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wood. As if aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young
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soldier, the fugitive nearly brushed his person in his flight. A tall and
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powerful Huron, who had husbanded his forces, pressed close upon his heels,
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and with an uplifted arm menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrust forth a foot,
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and the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, many feet in advance of
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his intended victim. Thought itself is not quicker than was the motion with which
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the latter profited by the advantage. He turned gleamed like a meteor again before
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the eyes of Duncan, and at the next moment, when the latter recovered
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his recollection and gazed around in question of the captive, he saw him quietly
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leaning against a small painted post which stood before the door of the principal lodge.
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Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might prove fatal to
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himself, Duncan left the place without delay. He followed the crowd which drew
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nigh the lodges, gloomy and sullen, like any other multitude that had been
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disappointed in an execution, Curiosity, or perhaps a better feeling, induced him
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to approach the stranger. He found him standing with one arm cast about the
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protecting post and breathing thick and hard after his exertions, but disdaining to permit
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a single sign of suffering to escape. His person was now protected by immemorial
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and sacred usage until the tribe and council had deliberated and determined on his fate.
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It was not difficult, however, to foretell the result. If any
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presage could be drawn from the feelings of those who crowded the place. There
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was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary that the disappointed woman did
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not lavishly expend on the successful stranger. They flouted at his efforts and told
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him with bitter scoffs that his feet were better than his hands, and that
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he merited wings while he knew not how to use an arrow or a knife.
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To all this, the captain made no reply, but was content to
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preserve an attitude in which dignity was singularly blended with disdain. Exasperated as much
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by his composure as by his good fortune, their words became unintelligible and were
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succeeded by shrill, piercing yells. Just then, the crafty squaw, who
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had taken the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way through the
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throng and cleared for herself in front of the captive. The squalid and withered
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person of this tag might well have obtained for her the character of possessing more
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than human cunning. Throwing back her light vestment, she stretched forth her long,
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skinny arm in derision, and, using the language of the lenape as
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more intelligible to the subject of her jobs, she commenced aloud, look ye
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delaware, she said, snapping her fingers in his face. Your nation is
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a race of women, and the whole is better fitted to your hands than
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nagan. Your squaws are the mothers of deer. But if a bear,
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or a wildcat or a serpent were born above you, ye would flee.
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The huron girl shall make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband.
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A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during which the soft and
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musical merriment of the younger females strangely chimed with the cracked voices of their older
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and more malignant companion. But the stranger was superior to all their efforts.
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His head was immovable, nor did he betray the slightest consciousness that any were
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present, except when his haughty eye rolled toward the dusky forms of the warriors,
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who stalked in the background. Silent and sullen observers of the scene,
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infuriated that the self command of the captive, the woman placed her arms akimbo,
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and throwing herself in a posture of defiance, she broke out anew in
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a torrent of words that no art of ours could commit successfully to paper.
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Her breath was however, expended in vain, for although distinguished in her nation
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as a proficient in the art of abuse, she was permitted to work herself
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into such a fury as actually to foam at the mouth without causing a muscle
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to vibrate in the motionless figure of the stranger. The effect of this indifference
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began to extend itself to the other spectators, and a youngster, who was
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just quitting the condition of a boy to enter the state of manhood, attempted
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to assist the termagant by flourishing his tomahawk before their victim and adding his empty
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boasts to the taunts of the women. Then, indeed, the captive turned
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his face toward the light and looked down on the stripling with an expression that
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was superior to contempt. At the next moment, he resumed his quiet and
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reclining attitude against the post. But the change of posture had permitted Duncan to
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exchange glances with the firm and piercing eyes of Uncas. Breathless with amazement and
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heavily oppressed with the critical situation of his friend. Heyward recoiled before the look,
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trembling, lest its meeting might in some unknown manner hastened the prisoner's fate.
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There was, not, however, any instant cause for such an apprehension.
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Just then a warrior forced his way into the exasperated crowd, Motioning the
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woman and children aside with a stern gesture, he took Uncas by the arm
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and led him toward the door of the council lodge. Thither all the chiefs
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and most of the distinguished warriors followed, among whom the anxious Heyward found means
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to enter without attracting any dangerous attention to himself. A few moments were consumed
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in disposing of those present in a manner suitable to their rank and influence in
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the tribe. An order very similar to that adopted in the preceding interview was
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observed, the aged and superior chiefs occupying the area of the spacious apartment within
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the powerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and inferiors were arranged
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in the background, presenting a dark outline of swarthy marked visages. In the
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very center of the lodge, immediately under an opening that admitted the twinkling light
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of one or two stars, stood Uncas, calm, elevated and collected.
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His high and haughty carriage was not lost on his captors, who often bent
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their looks on his person, with eyes which, while they lost none of
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their inflexibility of purpose, plainly betrayed their admiration of the stranger's daring. The
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case was different with the individual whom Duncan had observed to stand forth with his
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friend previously to the desperate trial of speed, and who, instead of joining
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in the chase, had remained throughout its turbulent uproar, like a cringing statue,
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expressive of shame and disgrace. Though not a hand had been extended to
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greet him, nor yet an eye had condescended to watch his movements. He
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had also entered the lodge as though impelled by a fate. To those dec
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he submitted seemingly without a struggle. Hayward profited by the first opportunity to gaze
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in his face, secretly apprehensive he might find the features of another acquaintance.
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But they proved to be those of a stranger, and what was still more
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inexplicable, a one who bore all the distinctive marks of a Huron warrior.
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Instead of mingling with his tribe however, he sat apart, a solitary being
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in a multitude, his form shrinking into a crouching and abject attitude, as
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if anxious to feel as little space as possible. When each individual had taken
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his proper station and silence reigned in the place, the gray haired chief,
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already introduced to the reader, spoke aloud in the language of the Lenni Lennape
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delaware. He said, though one of the nation of a woman, you
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have proved yourself a man. I would give you food, but he who
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eats with a uron should become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning
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sun, when our last wordge shall be spoken. Seven nights and as many
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summer days have I fasted on the trail of the Hurons, Uncas coldly replied,
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The children of the Lenape know how to travel the path of the just
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without lingering to eat. Two of my young men are in pursuit of your
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companion, resumed the other without appearing to regard the boast of his captive.
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When they get back, then will our wise man say to you live or
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die? As the Huron no ears. Scornfully, exclaimed Uncas. Twice since
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he has been your prisoner, has that delaware heard a gun that he knows
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your young men will never come back. A short and sullen pause succeeded this
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bold assertion. Duncan, who understood the Mohican to allude to the fatal rifle
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of the scout, bent forward in earnest observation of the effect it might produce
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on the conquerors. But the chief was content with simply retorting, if the
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lenape are so skillful, why is one of their bravest warriors here? He
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followed the steps of a flying coward and fell into a snare. The cunning
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beaver may be caught as uncas thus replied, He pointed with his finger toward
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the solitary huron, but without deigning to bestow any other notice on so unworthy
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an object. The words of the answer and the air of the speaker produced
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a strong sensation among his auditors. Every eye rolled sullenly toward the individual indicated
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by the simple gesture, and a low, threatening murmur passed through the crowd.
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The ominous sounds reached the outer door, and the women and children pressing
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into the throng. No gap had been left between shoulder and shoulder that was
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not now filled with the dark lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance.
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In the meantime, the more aged chiefs in the center communed with each other
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in short and broken sentences. Not a word was uttered that did not convey
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the meaning of the speaker in the simplest and most energetic form. Again,
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a long and deeply solemn pause took place. It was known by all present
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to be the brave precursor of a weighty and important judgment. They who composed
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the outer circle faces were on tiptoe to gaze, and even the culprit for
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an instant, forgot his shame in a deeper emotion and exposed his abject features
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in order to cast an anxious and troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs.
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The silence was finally broken by the aged warrior so often named. He
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arose from the earth, and, moving past the immovable form of uncas,
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placed himself in a dignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the
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withered squaw already mentioned, moved into the circle in a slow, sidling sort
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of dance, holding the torch and muttering the indistinct words of what might have
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been a species of incantation. Though her presence was altogether an intrusion, it
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was unheeded approaching uncas she held the blazing brand in such a manner as to
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cast its red glare on his person and to expose the slightest emotion of his
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countenance. The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude, and his eyes,
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so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt steadily on the distance,
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as though it penetrated the obstacles which impeded the view, and looked into
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futurity. Satisfied with her examination, she left him with a slight expression of
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pleasure, and proceeded to practice the same trying experiment on her delinquent countrymen.
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The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a finely
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molded form was concealed by his attire. The light rendered every limb and joint
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discernible, and Duncan turned away in horror when he saw they were writhing in
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irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low and plaintive howl at the sad
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and shameful spectacle. When the chief put forth his hand and gently pushed her
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aside. Read that bends, he said, addressing the young culprit by name
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and in his proper language. Though the great Spirit has made you pleasant to
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the eyes, it would have been better that you had not been bored.
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Your tongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still.
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None of my young men strike the tomahawk deeper into the war post, none
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of them so lightly on the Angeese. The enemy know the shape of your
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back, but they have never seen the color of your eyes. Three times
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have they called on you to come, and as often did you forget to
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answer. Your name will never be mentioned again in our tribe. It is
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already forgotten. As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing impressively between each
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sentence, the culprit raised his face in deference to the other's ranking years Shame,
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horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments. His eye, which was
34:43
contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on the persons of those whose breath was his
34:47
fame, and the latter emotion for an instant predominated. He arose to his
34:53
feet, and, baring his bosom, looked steadily on the keen glittering knife
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that was already upheld by his inexorable judge. As the weapon passed slowly into
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his heart, he even smiled, as if in joy at having found death
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less dreadful than he had anticipated, and fell heavily on his face at the
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feet of the rigid and unyielding form of Uncas the squaw gave a loud and
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plaintive yell, dashed the torch to the earth and buried everything in darkness.
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The whole shattering group of spectators glided from the lodge like troubled sprites, and
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Duncan thought that he and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an Indian
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judgment had now become its only tenants. End of Chapter twenty three