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

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Chapter twenty four. Quote. Thus spoke the sage. The kings, without
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delay, dissolved the council and their chief obey unquote from Pope's Iliad. A
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single moment served to convince the youth that he was mistaken. A hand was
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laid with a powerful pressure on his arm, and the low voice of Uncas
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muttered in his ear. The hurons are dogs. The sight of a coward's
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blood can never make a warrior tremble. The gray head and the sagamore are
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safe, and the rifle of Hawkeye is not asleep. Go Uncas and the
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open hand are now strangers. It is enough. Heyward would gladly have heard
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more. But a gentle push from his friend urged him toward the door and
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admonished him of the danger that might attend the discovery of their intercourse. Slowly
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and reluctantly, yielding to the necessity, he quitted the place and mingled with
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the throng that had hovered nigh. The dying fires in the clearing cast a
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dim and uncertain light on the dusky figures that were silently stalking to and fro,
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and occasionally a brighter gleam than calm and glanced into the lodge and exhibited
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the figure of Uncas, still maintaining his upright attitude, near the dead body
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of the Huron. A knot of warrior soon entered the place again, and
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reissuing, they bore the senseless remains into the adjacent woods. After this termination
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of the scene, Duncan wandered among the lodges, unquestioned and unnoticed, endeavoring
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to find some trace of her in whose behalf he incurred the risk he ran.
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In the present temper of the tribe, it would have been easy to
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have fled and rejoined his companions, had such a wish crossed his mind,
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But in addition to the never ceasing anxiety on account of Alice, a fresher
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though feebler interest in the fate of Uncas assisted to chain him to the spot.
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He continued, therefore to stray from hut to hut, looking into each,
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only to encounter additional disappointment, until he had made the entire circuit of
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the village. Abandoning a species of inquiry that proved so fruitless, he retraced
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his steps to the council lodge, resolved to seek and question David in order
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to put an end to his doubts. On reaching the building, which had
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proved alike the seat of judgment and the place of execution, the young man
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found that the excitement had already subsided. The warriors had reassembled and were now
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calmly smoking while they conversed gravely on the chief incidents of their recent expedition to
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the head of the Horican. Though the return of Duncan was likely to remind
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them of his character the suspicious circumstances of his visit, it produced no visible
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sensation. So far, the terrible scene that had just occurred proved favorable to
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his views, and he required no other prompter than his own feelings to convince
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him of the expediency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage. Without seeming to
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hesitate, he walked into the lodge and took his seat with a gravity that
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accorded admirably with the deportment of his host. A hasty but searching glance sufficed
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to tell him that though Uncas still remained where he had left him, David
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had not reappeared. No other restraint was imposed on the former than the watchful
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looks of a young Huron who had placed himself at hand, Though an armed
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warrior leaned against the post that formed one side of the narrow doorway. In
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every other respect, the captive seemed at liberty. Still, he was excluded
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from all participation in the discourse, and possessed much more of the air of
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some finely molded statue than a man having life and volition. Heyward had too
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recently witnessed a frightful instance of the prompt punishments of the people in whose hands
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he had fallen to hazard and exposure by any officious boldness, He would greatly
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have preferred silence and meditation to speech, when a discovery of his real condition
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might prove so instantly fatal. Unfortunately, for this prudent resolution, his entertainers
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appeared otherwise disposed. He had not long occupied the seat, wisely taken a
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little in the shade, when another of the elder warriors, who spoke the
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French language, addressed him. My Canada father does not forget his children,
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said the chief. I thank him. An evil spirit lives in the wife
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of one of my young men. Can the cunning stranger frighten him away?
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Hayward possessed some knowledge of the mummery practiced among the Indians, in the cases
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of such supposed visitations, he saw at a glance that the circumstance might possibly
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be improved to further his own ends. It would therefore have been difficult just
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then to have uttered a proposal that would have given him more satisfaction. Aware
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of the necessity preserving the dignity of his imaginary character, however, he repressed
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his feelings and answered with suitable mystery. Spirits differ. Some yield to the
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power of wisdom, while others are too strong. My brother is a great
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medicine, said the cunning savage. He will try. A gesture of assent
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was the answer. The huron was content with the assurance, and resuming his
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pipe, he awaited the proper moment to move the impatient heyward inwardly, extricating
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the cold customs of the savages, which required such sacrifices to appearance. Was
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fain to assume an air of indifference equal to that maintained by the chief,
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who was, in truth a near relative of the afflicted woman. The minutes
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lingered, and the delay seemed an hour to the adventure in the empiricism.
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When the huron laid aside his pipe and drew his robe, across his breast,
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as if about to lead the way to the lodge of the invalid.
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Just then a warrior of powerful frame darkened the door, and, stalking silently
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among the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of the low pile
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of brush which sustained Duncan. The latter cast an impatient look at his neighbor,
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and felt his flesh creep with uncontrollable horror when he found himself in actual
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contact with Magua. The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief caused a
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delay in the departure of the huron. Several pipes that had been extinguished were
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lighted again, while the newcomer, without speaking a word, drew his tomahawk
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from his girdle, and, filling the bowl on its head, began to
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inhale the vapors of the weed through the hollow handle with as much indifference as
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if he had not been absent to weary days on a long and toilsome hunt.
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Ten minutes which appeared so many ages to Duncan, might have passed in
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this manner, and the warriors were fairly enveloped in a cloud of white smoke
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before any of them, spoke welcome. One at length muttered, has my
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friend found the moose? The young men stagger under their burdens, returned Maqua,
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Let read that bens go on the hunting path, he will meet them.
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A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of the forbidden name. Each
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type dropped from the lips of its owner, as though all had inhaled an
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impurity. At the same instant, the smoke wreathed above their heads in little
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eddies, and curling in a spiral form. It ascended swiftly through the opening
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in the roof of the lodge, leaving the place beneath clear of its fumes,
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and each dark visage distinctly visible. The looks of most of the warriors
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were riveted on the earth, though a few of the younger and less gifted
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the party suffered their wild and glaring eyeballs to roll in the direction of a
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white headed savage who sat between two of the most venerated chiefs of the tribe.
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There was nothing in the air or attire this Indian that would seem to
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entitle him to such a distinction. The former was rather depressed than remarkable,
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for the bearing of the natives, and the latter was such as was commonly
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worn by the ordinary men of the nation. Like most around him, for
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more than a minute, his look, too was on the ground, but
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trusting his eyes at length to steal a glance aside, he perceived that he
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was becoming an object of general attention. Then he arose and lifted his voice
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in the general silence. It was a lie, he said, I had
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no son. He who was called by that name is forgotten. His blood
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was pale, and it came not from the veins of a huron. The
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wicked Chippewas cheated my squaw. The great Spirit has said that the family of
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Wish and Touche should end. He is happy. He knows that the evil
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of his race dies with himself. I have done. The speaker, who
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was the father of the recreant young Indian, looked round and about him,
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as if seeking commendation of his stoicism in the eyes of the auditors. But
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the stern customs of his people had made too severe an exaction on the feeble
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old man. Expression of his eye contradicted his figurative, imboastful language, while
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every muscle in his wrinkled visage was working with anguish, standing a single minute
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to enjoy his bitter triumph, he turned away as if sickening at the gaze
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of men, and veiling his face in his blanket. He walked from the
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lodge with the noiseless step of an Indian, seeking, in the privacy of
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his own abode the sympathy of one like himself, aged forlorn and childless.
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The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of virtues and defects in character,
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suffered him to depart in silence. Then with an elevation of breeding that
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many in a more cultivated state of society might profitably emulate. One of the
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chiefs drew the attention of the young men from the weakness they had just witnessed
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by saying the cheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as the
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newest comer. The Delawares have been like bears after the honeypots, prowling around
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my village. But who has ever found i Iran asleep? The darkness of
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the impending cloud which precedes a burst of thunder was not blacker than the brow
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of Magua, as he exclaimed, the Delawares are the lakes, not so
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they who bear the pettiquodes of squaws on their own river. One of them
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has been passing the tribe. Did my young men take his scalp? His
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legs were good, though his arm is better for the hoe than the tomahawk,
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returned the other, pointing to the immovable form of Uncas. Instead of
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manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast his eyes with the sight of a captive from
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a people he was known to have so much reason to hate, Maqua continued
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to smoke with the meditative air that he usually maintained when there was no immediate
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call on his cunning or his eloquence. Although secretly amazed at the facts communicated
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by the speech of the aged father, he permitted himself to ask no questions,
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reserving his inquiries for a more suitable moment. It was only after a
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sufficient interval that he shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced the tomahawk,
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tightened his girdle, and arose, casting for the first time a glance in
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the direction of the prisoner, who stood a little behind him. The weary,
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though seemingly abstracted Uncas caught a glimpse of the movement, and turning suddenly
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to the light, their looks met. Near a minute, these two bold
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and untamed spirits stood regarding one another steadily in the eye, neither quelling in
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the least before the fierce gaze. He encountered the form of Uncas dilated and
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his nostrils opened like those of a tigrit. But so rigid and unyielding was
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his posture that he might easily have been converted by the imagination into an exquisite
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and faultless representation of the warlike deity of his tribe. The lineaments and the
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quivering features of Maqua proved more ductile. His countenance gradually lost its character of
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defiance in an expression of ferocious joy, and, heaving a breath from the
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very bottom of his chest, he pronounced aloud the formidable name of Lais Serfagieu.
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Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of the well known appellation,
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and there was a short period during which the stoical constancy of the natives
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was completely conquered by surprise. The hated and yet respected name was repeated as
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by one voice, carrying the sound even beyond the limits of the lodge.
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The women and children who linger around the entrance, took up the words in
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an echo, which was succeeded by another shrill and plaintive howl. The latter
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was not yet ended when the sensation among the men had entirely abated. Each
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one in presence seated himself, as though ashamed of his precipitation. But it
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was many minutes before the meaning eyes ceased to roll toward their captive. In
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curious examination of a warrior who had so often proved his prowess at the best
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and proudest of their nation, Uncas enjoyed his victory, but was content with
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merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet smile, an emblem of scorn which belongs
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to all time and every nation. Makua caught the expression, and raising his
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arm, he shook it at the captive, the light silver ornaments attached to
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his braceless rattling with the trembling agitation of the limb as. In a tone
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of vengeance, he exclaimed in English, mo he can you die? The
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healing waters will never bring the dead urons to life, returned Uncas in the
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music of the Delawares, The tumbling river watches their bones. Their men are
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squaws. Their woman owls go call together the Uron dogs, that they may
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look upon a warrior. My nostrils are offended. They scent the blood of
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a coward. The latter illusion struck deep, and the injury rankled. Many
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of the Hurons understood the strange tongue in which the captives spoke, among which
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number was Maqua. This cunning savage beheld and instantly profited by his advantage.
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Dropping the light robe of skin from his shoulder, he stretched forth his arm
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and commenced a burst of his dangerous and artful eloquence. However, much his
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influence among his people have been impaired by his occasional and besetting weakness, as
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well as by his desertion of the tribe, His courage and his fame as
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an orator were undeniable. He never spoke without auditors, and rarely without making
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converts to his opinions. On the present occasion, his native powers were stimulated
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by the thirst of revenge. He again recounted the events of the attack on
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the island at Glen's, the death of his associates and the escape of their
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most formidable enemies. Then he described the nature and position of the mount whither
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he had led such captives as had fallen into their hands. Of his own
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bloody intentions toward the maidens, and of his baffled malice, he made no
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mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party by la longue
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carabine and its fatal termination. Here he paused and looked about him, in
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effected veneration of the departed, but in truth to note the effect of his
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opening narrative. As usual, every eye was riveted on his face, Each
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dusky figure seemed a breathing statue. So motionless was the posture, so intense
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the attention of the individual. Then Makwad dropped his voice, which had hitherto
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been clear, strong and elevated, and touched upon the merits of the dead.
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No quality that was likely to command the sympathy of an Indian escaped his
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notice. One had never been known to follow the chase in vain, another
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had been indefatigable on the trail of their enemies. This was brave, that
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generous. In short, he so managed his illusions that, in a nation
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which was composed of so few families, he contrived to strike every cord that
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might find in its turn some breast in which to vibrate. Are the bones
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of my young men, he concluded, in the burial place of the Hurons,
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you know that they are not. Their spirits are gone toward the setting
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sun, and are already crossing the great waters to the happy hunting grounds.
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But they departed without food, without guns or knives, without moccasins, naked
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and poor as they were born. Shall this be are their souls to enter
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the land of the just like hungry Iroquois or unmanly Delawares. Or shall they
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meet their friends with arms in their hands and rolls on their backs? What
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will our fathers think the tribes of the Wyandotes have become. They will look
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on their children with a dark eye and say, go, a Chippewa has
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come hither with the name of a Huron. Brothers, we must not forget
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the dead. Our redskin never ceases to remember. We will load the back
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of this Mohican until he staggers under our bounty, and despatch him. After
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my young men they call to us for aid, though our ears are not
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open. They say, forget us not when they see the spirit of this
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Mohican toiling after them with his burden they will know that we are of that
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mind. Then they will go on happy, and our children will say,
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so did our fathers to their friends, so must we do to them?
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What is a Yankee? We have slain many, but the earth is still
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pale. A stain on the name of a Huron can only be hid by
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blood that comes from the veins of an Indian. Let this delaware die.
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The effect of such a harangue, delivered in the nervous language and with the
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emphatic manner of a huron orator, could scarcely be mistaken. Makua had so
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artfully blended the natural sympathies with the religious superstition of his auditors that their minds,
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already prepared by custom to sacrifice a victim to the mans of their countrymen,
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lost every vestige of humanity in a wish for revenge. One warrior,
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in particular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had been conspicuous for
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the attention he had given to the words of the speaker. His countenance had
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changed with each passing emotion, until it settled on a look of deadly malice.
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As Magua ended, he arose and uttering the yell of a demon.
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His polished little axe was seen glancing in the torchlight as he whirled it above
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his head. The motion in the cry were too sudden for words to enter
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up his bloody intention. It appeared as if a bright gleam shot from his
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hand, which was crossed at the same moment by a dark and powerful line.
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The former was the tomahawk in its passage, the latter, the arm
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of Maqua, darted forward to divert its aim. The quick and ready motion
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of the chief was not entirely too late. The keen weapon cut the war
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plume of the scalping tuft of Uncas, and passed through the frail wall of
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the lodge, as though were hurled from some formidable engine. Duncan had seen
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the threatening action and sprung upon his feet with a heart which, while it
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leaped into its throat, swelled with the most generous resolution in behalf of his
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friend. A glance told him that the blow had failed, and terror changed
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to admiration. Uncas stood still, looking his enemy in the eye, with
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features that seemed superior to emotion. Marble could not be colder, calmer,
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or steadier than the countenance he put upon this sudden and vindictive attack. Then,
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as if pitying a want of skill which had proved so fortunate to himself,
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he smiled and muttered a few words of contempt in his own tongue.
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No, said Maqua, after satisfying himself of the safety of the captive.
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The sun must shine on his shame, the squaws must see his flesh tremble,
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or our revenge would be like the play of boys. Go take him
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where there is silence. Let us see if a delaware can sleep at night
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and in the morning die. The young men whose duty it was to guard
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the prisoner instantly passed their ligaments of bark across his arms, and led him
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from the lodge amid a profound and ominous silence. It was only as the
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figure of Uncas stood in the opening of the door that his firm step hesitated.
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There he turned, and in the sweeping and haughty glance that he threw
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around the circle of his enemies, Duncan caught a look which he was glad
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to construe into an expression that he was not entirely deserted by hope. Makwell
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was content with its success or, too much occupied with his secret purposes to
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push his inquiries any further, shaking his mantle and folding it on his bosom.
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He also quitted the place without pursuing a subject which might have proved so
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fatal to the individual at his elbow. Notwithstanding his rising resentment, his natural
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firmness, and his anxiety on behalf of uncas, Heyward felt sensibly relieved by
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the absence of so dangerous and subtle a foe. The excitement produced by the
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speech gradually subsided. The warriors resumed their seats, and clouds of smoke once
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more filled the lodge. For near half an hour, not a syllable was
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uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside, a grave and meditative silence being
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the ordinary succession to every scheme of violence and commotion among these beings, who
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were alike so impetuous and yet so self restrained. When the chief who had
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solicited the aid of Duncan finished his pipe, he made a final and successful
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movement toward the departing. A motion of a finger was the intimation he gave
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the supposed physician to follow, and, passing through the clouds of smoke,
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Duncan was glad, on more accounts than one to be able at least to
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breathe the pure air of a cool and refreshing summer evening. Instead of pursuing
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his way among those lodges where Heyward had already made his unsuccessful search, his
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companion turned aside and proceeded directly to toward the base of an adjacent mountain which
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overhung the temporary village. A thicket of brush skirted its foot, and it
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became necessary to proceed through a crooked and narrow path. The boys had resumed
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their sports in the clearing and were enacting the mimic chase to the posts among
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themselves. In order to render their games as like the reality as possible.
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One of the boldest of their number had conveyed a few brands into some piles
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of tree tops that had hitherto escape the burning. The blaze of one of
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these fires lighted the way of the Chief and Duncan, and gave a character
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of additional wildness to the rude scenery. At a little distance from a bald
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rock and directly in its front, they entered a grassy opening, which they
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prepared to cross. Just then fresh fuel was added to the fire, and
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a powerful light penetrated even to that distant spot. It fell upon the white
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surface of the mountain, and was reflected downward upon a dark and mysterious looking
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being that arose unexpectedly in their path. The Indian paused, as if doubtful,
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whether to proceed, and permitted his companion to approach his side. A
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large black ball, which at first seemed stationary, now began to move in
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a manner that, to the latter was inexplicable. Again, the fire brightened
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and its glare fellm more distinctly on the object. Then even Duncan knew it
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by its restless and sidling attitudes, which kept the upper part of its forming
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constant motion. While the animal itself appeared seated to be a bear. Though
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it growled loudly and fiercely, and there were instants when its glistening eyeballs might
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be seen, it gave no other indications of hostility. The Huron at least
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seemed assured that the intentions of this singular intruduble were peaceable, for after giving
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it an attentive examination, he quietly pursued his course. Duncan, who knew
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that the animal was often domesticated among the Indians, followed the example of his
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companion, believing that some favorite of the tribe had found its way into the
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thicket in search of food. They passed it unmolested, though obliged to come
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nearly in contact with the monster. The Huron, who at first so warily
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determined the character of this strange visitor, was now content with proceeding without wasting
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a moment in further examination. But Heyward was unable to prevent his eyes from
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looking backward in salutary watchfulness against attacks from the rear. His uneasiness was in
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no degree diminished when he perceived the beast rolling along their path and following their
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footsteps. He would have spoken, but the Indian at that moment shoved aside
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a door of bark and entered a cavern in the bosom of the mountain.
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Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan stepped after him and was
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gladly closing the slight cover to the opening when he felt it drawn from his
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hand by the beast, whose shaggy form immediately darkened the passage. They were
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now in a straight and long gallery in a chasm of the rocks, where
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retreat without encountering the animal was impossible, Making the best of the circumstances.
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The young man pressed forward, keeping as close as possible to his conductor.
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The bare growled frequently at his heels, and once or twice its enormous palls
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were laid on his person, as if disposed to prevent his further passage into
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the den. How long the nerves of Hayward would have sustained him in this
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extraordinary situation, it might be difficult to decide. For Happily, he soon
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found relief. A glimmer of light had constantly been in their front, and
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they now arrived at the place whence it proceeded. A large cavity in the
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rock had been rudely fitted to answer the purposes of many apartments. These subdivisions
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were simple but ingenious, being composed of stone, sticks and bark intermingled.
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Openings above admitted the light by day, and at night, fires and torches
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supplied the place of the sun. Hither the Hurons had brought most of their
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valuables, especially those which were more particularly pertained to the nation. And hither,
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as it now appeared, the sick woman, who was believed to be
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the victim of supernatural power, had been transported, also under an impression that
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her tormentor would find more difficulty in making his assaults through the walls of stone
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than through the leafy coverings of the lodges. The apartment into which Duncan and
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his guide first entered had been exclusively devoted to her accommodation. The at her
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approached her bedside, which was surrounded by females in the center of whom Heyward
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was surprised to find his missing friend David. A single look was sufficient to
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apprize the pretended leech that the invalid was far beyond his powers of healing.
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She lay in a sort of paralysis, indifferent to the objects which crowded before
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her sight, and happily unconscious of suffering. Heyward was far from regretting that
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his memories were to be performed on one who was much too ill to take
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an interest in their failure or success. The slight qualm of conscience which had
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been excited by the intended deception, was instantly appeased, and he began to
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collect his thoughts in order to enact his part with suitable spirit. When he
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found that he was about to be anticipated in his skill by an attempt to
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prove the power of music, Gammout who had stood prepared to pour forth his
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spirit and song when the visitors entered, after delaying a moment, drew a
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strain from his pipe and commenced to him that might have worked a miracle,
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had faith in its efficacy been of much avail. He was allowed to proceed
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to the close, the Indians, respecting his imaginary infirmity, and Duncan,
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too, glad of the delay, to hazard the slightest interruption. As the
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dying cadence of his strains was falling on the ears of the latter, he
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started aside, and, hearing them repeated behind him in a voice half human
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and half sepuchal. Looking around, he beheld the shaggy monster seated on end
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in a shadow of the cavern, where while his restless body swung in the
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uneasy manner of the animal, it repeated a sort of low growl, sounds,
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if not words, which bore some slight resemblance to the melody of the
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singer. The effect of so strange an echo on David may be better imagined
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than described. His eyes opened as if he doubted their truth, and his
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voice became instantly mute. In excess of wonder, a deep laid scheme of
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communicating some important intelligence to Heyward was driven from his recollection by an emotion which
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very nearly resembled fear, but which he was fain to believe was admiration.
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Under its influence, he exclaimed aloud, she expects you and is at hand,
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and precipitately left the cavern end of chapter twenty four