 Chapter 12 of The Last of the Mohicans, A Narrative of 1757 by James Fenimore Cooper. Clough, I am gone, Sire, and anon, Sire, I'll be with you again." From Twelfth Night. The Hurons stood aghast of this sudden visitation of death on one of their band, but as they regarded the fatal accuracy of an aim which had dared to emulate an enemy at so much hazard to a friend. The name of Let Long Got It Been burst simultaneously from every lip, and was seceded by a wild and sort of plaintive howl. The cry was answered by a loud shout from a little thicket, where the unconscious party had piled their arms, and at the next moment Hawkeye, too eager to load the rifle he had regained, was seen advancing upon them, rendishing the clubbed weapon and cutting the air with wide and powerful sweeps. Bold and rapid was the progress of the scout. It was exceeded by that of a light and vigorous form which bounding past him, leaped with incredible activity and daring into the very center of the Hurons, where it stood whirling a tomahawk and flourishing a glittering knife with fearful menaces in front of Korah. Quicker than the thoughts could follow those unexpected and audacious movements, an image armed in the emblematic panoply of death, glided before their eyes and assumed a threatening attitude at the other side. The savage tormentors recoiled before these warlike intruders, and uttered as they appeared in such quick succession the often repeated and peculiar exclamations of surprise, followed by the well-known and dreaded appellations of, lay surfer Jill, lay girl Serpent! But the wary, invigilant leader of the Hurons was not so easily disconcerted. Casting his keen eyes around the little plane, he comprehended the nature of the assault at a glance, and encouraging his followers by his voice as well as by his example, he unsheathed his long and dangerous knife, and rushed with a loud hoop upon the expected Chinchkuchkook. It was the signal of a general combat. Neither party had firearms, and the contest was to be decided in the deadliest manner, hand to hand, with weapons of offense and none of defense. Uncus answered the hoop, and leaping on an enemy, with a single well-directed blow of his tomahawk, cleft him to the brain. Hayward tore the weapon of Makwa from the sapling, and rushed eagerly toward the fray. As the combatants were now equal in number, each singled an opponent from the adverse band. The rush and blows passed with the fury of a whirlwind, and the swiftness of lightning. Hawkeye soon got another enemy within reach of his arm, and with one sweep of his formidable weapon, he beat down the slight and inartificial defenses of his antagonist, crushing him to earth with the blow. Hayward ventured to hurl the tomahawk he had seized to, ardent to await the moment of closing. It struck the Indian he had selected on the forehead, and checked for an instant his onward rush. Encouraged by this slight advantage, the impetuous young man continued his onset, and sprang upon his enemy with naked hands. A single instant was enough to assure him of the rashness of the measure. For he immediately found himself fully engaged, with all his activity and courage, in endeavoring toward the desperate thrust made with the knife of the Huron, unable longer to foil an enemy so alert and vigilant. He threw his arms about him, and seceded in pinning the limbs of the other to his side, with an iron grasp, but one that was far too exhausting to himself to continue long. In this extremity he heard a voice near him shouting, Exterminate the violence! No quarter to an accursed mingo! At the next moment the breach of Hawkeye's rifle fell on the naked head of his adversary, whose muscles appeared to wither under the shock, as he sank from the arms of Duncan, flexible and motionless. When Uncus had brained his first antagonist, he turned like a hungry lion to seek another. The fifth and only Huron disengaged at the first onset had paused a moment, and then seeing that all around him were employed in the deadly strife, he had sought with hellish vengeance to complete the baffled work of revenge. Raising a shout of triumph he sprang toward the defenseless Korra, sending his keen axe as the dreadful precursor of his approach. The tomahawk grazed her shoulder, and cutting the wives which bound her to the tree left the maiden at liberty to fly. She eluded the grasp of the savage, and reckless of her own safety threw herself on the bosom of Alice, striving with convulsed and ill-directed fingers to tear asunder the twigs which confined the person of her sister. Any other than a monster would have relented at such an act of generous devotion to the best and purest affection. But the breast of the Huron was a stranger to sympathy. Seizing Korra by the rich tresses which fell in confusion about her form, he tore her from her frantic hold, and bowed her down with brutal violence to her knees. The savage drew the flowing curls through his hand, and raising them on high with an outstretched arm. He passed the knife around the exquisitely molded head of his victim, with a taunting and exalting laugh. But he purchased this moment of fierce gratification with the loss of the fatal opportunity. It was just then the sight caught the eye of Uncus. Bounding from his footsteps, he appeared for an instant darting through the air, and descending in a ball he fell on the chest of his enemy, driving him many yards from the spot, headlong and prostrate. The violence of the exertion cast the young Mohican at his sigh. They arose together, fought, and bled, each in his turn. But the conflict was soon decided. The Tomahawk of Hayward and the Rifle of Hawkeye descended on the skull of the Huron at the same moment that the Knife of Uncus reached his heart. The battle was now entirely terminated, with the exception of the protracted struggle between Lyrinage Septidul and Ligros Serpent. Well did these barbarous warriors prove that they deserved their significant names, which had been bestowed for deeds in former wars. When they engaged, some little time was lost in the deluding the quick and vigorous thrust which had been aimed at their lives. Suddenly darting on each other, they closed and came to the earth, twisted together like twining serpents, impliant and subtle folds. At the moment when the victors found themselves unoccupied, the spot where these experienced and desperate combatants lay could only be distinguished by cloud of dust and leaves, which moved from the center of the little plain toward its boundary, as if raised by the passage of a whirlwind. Urged by the different motives of filial affection, friendship and gratitude, Hayward and his companions rushed with one accord to the place, encircling the little canopy of dust which hung above the warriors. In vain did Uncus dart around the cloud with a wish to strike his knife into the heart of his father's foe. The threatening rifle of Hawkeye was raised and suspended in vain, while Duncan endeavored to seize the limbs of the Huron with hands that had appeared to have lost their power. Covered as they were with dust and blood, the swift evolutions of the combatants seemed to incorporate their bodies into one. The deathlike-looking figure of the Mohican and the dark form of the Huron gleamed before their eyes in such quick and confused succession that the friends of the former knew not where to plant the succoring blow. It is true that there were short and fleeting moments when the fiery eyes of Mokor were seen glittering like fabled organs of the basilisk through the dusty wreath by which he was enveloped, and he read by those short and deadly glances the fate of the combat in the presence of his enemies. Air, however, any hostile hand that could descend on his devoted head, its place was filled by the scowling visage of Chin Gachkuk. In this manner the scene of the combat was removed from the center of the little plain to its verge, though Mohican now found an opportunity to make a powerful thrust with his knife. Mok was suddenly relinquished his grasp and fell backward without motion and seemingly without life. His adversary leaped on his feet, making the arches of the forest ring with the shouts of triumph. "'Well done for the Delaware's! Victory to the Mohicans!' cried Hawkeye, once more elevating the butt of the long and fatal rifle. A finishing blow from a man without a cross will never tell against his honor, nor rob him of his right to the scalp. But at the very moment when the dangerous weapon was in the act of descending, the subtle Huron rolled swiftly from beneath the danger over the edge of the precipice, and falling on his feet was seen leaping with a single bound into the center of a thicket of low bushes that clung along its sides. The Delaware's, who had believed their enemy dead, uttered their exclamation of surprise and were following with speed and clamor like hounds in open view of the deer, when a shrill and peculiar cry from the scout instantly changed their purpose and recalled them to the summit of the hill. "'Twas like himself!' cried the inveterate forester, whose prejudice contributed so largely to veil his natural sense of justice, in all matters which concerned the mingos. A lying and deceitful violet as he is. An honest Delaware now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain still, and been knocked on the head. But these navy schmock was cling to life like so many cats of the mountain. Let him go, let him go. Tis but one man, and he without rife or bow. Many a long mile from his French comrades. And like a rattler, that lost his fangs, he can do no further mischief. Until such time as he and we, too, may leave the prince of our moccasins over a long reach of sandy plain. "'See, Uncus?' he added in Delaware. "'Your father is flaying the scalps already. It may be well to go around and fill the bag of bonds that are left, or we may have another of them loping through the woods, and screeching like a jay that has been winged.' So saying, the honest but implacable scout made the circuit of the dead, into whose senseless bosoms he thrust his long knife, with as much coolness as though they had been so many brute carcasses. He had, however, been anticipated by the Elder Mohican, who had already torn the emblems of victory from the unresisting heads of the slain. But Uncus, denying his habits, we had almost said his nature, flew with instinctive delicacy accompanied by Hayward to the assistance of the females, and quickly releasing Alice, placed her in the arms of Korah. We shall not attempt to describe the gratitude of the almighty disposer of events which glowed in the bosoms of the sisters, who were thus unexpectedly restored to life and to each other. Their thanksgivings were deep and silent. The offerings of their gentle spirits burning brightest and purest on the secret altars of their hearts, and their renovated and more earthly feelings exhibiting themselves in long and fervent those speechless carcasses. As Alice rose from her knees where she had sunk by the side of Korah, she threw herself on the bosom of the latter and sobbed aloud the name of their aged father, while her soft and dove-like eyes sparkled with rays of hope. We are saved, we are saved, she murmured, to return to the arms of our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be broken with grief. And you too, Korah, my sister, my more than sister, my mother, you too are spared, and Duncan, she added, looking around upon the youth with a smile of ineffable innocence. Even our own brave and noble Duncan has escaped without a hurt. To these ardent and nearly innocent words Korah made no other answer than by straining the youthful speaker to her heart as she bent over her in melting tenderness. The manhood of Hayward felt no shame in dropping tears over the spectacle of affectionate rapture, and Anka stood, fresh and bloodstained from the combat, a calm and apparently an unmoved looker on it is true, but with eyes that had already lost their fierceness, and which were beaming with a sympathy that elevated him far above the intelligence and advanced him probably centuries before the practices of his nation. Seeing this display of emotions so natural in their situation, Hawkeye, whose vigilant distrust had satisfied itself that the Hurons who disfigured the heavenly scene no longer possessed the power to interrupt its harmony, approached David, and liberated him from the bonds he had until that moment, endured with the most exemplary patience. There exclaimed the scout, casting the last wive behind him. You are once more master of your own limbs, though you seem not to use them with much greater judgment than that in which they were first fashioned. If advice from one who is not older than yourself, but who, having lived most of his time in the wilderness, may be said to have experienced beyond his years, will give no offence, you are welcome to my thoughts, and these are, to part with the little tooting instrument in your jacket to the first fool you meet with, and buy some weapon with the money, if it only be the barrel of a horseman's pistol. By industry and care you might thus come to some preformant, for by this time I should think your eyes would plainly tell you that a carrion crow is a better bird than a mocking thresher. The one will at least remove foul sights from before the face of man, while the other is only good to brew disturbances in the woods, by cheating the ears of all that hear them. Warms and clarion for the battle, but the song of thanksgiving to the victory, answered the liberated David. Friend! he added, thrusting forth his lean, delicate hand toward Hawkeye in kindness, while his eyes twinkled and grew moist. I thank thee that the hairs of my head still grow, where they first rooted by providence, for though those of other man may be more glossy and curling, I have ever found mine own well suited to the brain they shelter, that I did not join myself in the battle was less owing to disinclination than to the bonds of the heathen. Valiant and skillful has thou proved thyself in the conflict, and I hereby thank thee, before proceeding to discharge other and more important duties, because thou hast proved thyself well worthy of a Christian's praise. The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see if you carry long among us, return the scout. A good deal softened toward the man of song by this unequivocal expression of gratitude. I have got my old companion, Kildir, he added, striking his hand on the breach of his rifle, and that in itself is a victory. These Iroquois are cunning, but they outwitted themselves when they placed their firearms out of reach. And had Uncus or his father been gifted with only their common Indian patience, we should have come in upon the knaves with three bullets instead of one. And that would have made a finish of the whole pack, Yon Loping Varlet as well as his comrades. But it was all foreordered and for the best. Thou sayest will, return David, and hast caught the true spirit of Christianity. He that is to be saved will be saved, and he that is predestined to be damned will be damned. This is the doctrine of truth, and most consoling and refreshing it is to the true believer. The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the state of his rifle with a species of parental assiduity, now looked up at the other in a displeasure that he did not effect to conceal. Roughly interrupting further speech. Doctrine or no doctrine, said the sturdy woodsman, tis the belief of knaves and the curse of an honest man. I can credit that Yonder Huron was to fall by my hand, for with my own eyes I have seen it. But nothing, short of being a witness, will cause me to think he has met with any reward. Or that Chinchgauchkuk there will be condemned at the final day. You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor any covenant to support it! cried David, who was deeply tinctured with the subtle distinctions which in his time and more especially in his province have been drawn around the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by endeavoring to penetrate the awful mystery of the divine nature, supplying faith by self-sufficiency, and by consequence involving those who reason from such human dogmas in absurdities and doubt. Your temple is reared on the sands, and the first tempest will wash away its foundation. I demand your authorities for such an uncharitable assertion. Like other advocates of a system. David was not always accurate in his use of terms. Same chapter in verse. In which of the holy books do you find language to support you? Book, repeated Hawkeye, with singular and ill-concealed disdain. Do you take me for a whimpering boy at the apron string of one of your old gals, and this good rifle on my knee for the feather of a goose's wing, my ox's horn for a bottle of ink, and my leathered pouch for a cross-barred handkerchief to carry my dinner? Book, what have such as I who am a warrior of the wilderness, though a man without a cross, to do with books? I never read but in one. And the words that are written there are too simple and too plain to need much schooling, though I may boast that of forty long and hard-working years. What call you the volume, said David, misconceiving the other's meaning. Tis open before your eyes return the scout, and he who owns it is not a nigger of its use. I have heard it said that there are men who read in books to convince themselves there is a God. I know not but man may so deform his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and priests. If any such there be, and he will follow me from sun to sun through the windings of the forest, he shall see enough to teach him that he is a fool, and the greatest of his follies lies in striving to rise to the level of one he can never equal, be it in goodness or be it in power. The instant David discovered that he battled with a disputant who imbibed his faith from the lights of nature, eschewing all subtleties of doctrine, he willingly abandoned a controversy from which he believed neither profit nor credit was to be derived. While the scout was speaking, he had also seated himself, and producing the ready little volume and the iron rim spectacles, he prepared to discharge a duty, which nothing but the unexpected assault he had received in his orthodoxy could have so long suspended. He was, in truth, a minstrel of the western continent of a much later day, certainly than those gifted barge who formerly sang the profane renown of baron and prince, but after the spirit of his own age and country, he was now prepared to exercise the cunning of his craft, in celebration of, or in rather thanksgiving of, the recent victory. He waited patiently for Hawkeye to cease, then lifting his eyes together with his voice he said aloud, I invite you friends to join in praise for the signal deliverance from the hands of barbarians and infidels through the uncomfortable and solemn tones of the tune called Northampton. Next he named the page in verse where the rhyme selected were to be found, and applied the pitch pipe to his lips with the decent gravity that he had been want to use in the temple. This time he was, however, without any accompaniment, for the sisters were just then pouring out those tender effusions of affections which have already been alluded to. Nothing deterred by the smallness of his audience, which in truth consisted only of the discontented scout, he raised his voice, commencing and ending the sacred song without accident or interruption of any kind. Hawkeye listened while he coolly adjusted his flint and reloaded his rifle. But the sounds, wanting the extraneous assistance of scene and sympathy, failed to awaken his slumbering emotions. Never minstrel or by whatever more suitable name David should be known drew upon his talents in the presence of more insensible auditors. Though considering the singleness and sincerity of his motive, it is probable that no bard of profane song ever uttered notes that ascended so near to that throne where all homage and praise is due. The scout shook his head and muttering some unintelligible words among which Throat and Iroquois were alone audible. He walked away to collect and to examine into the state of the captured arson of the Hurons. In this office he was now joined by Ginger Gotchkuk, who found his own as well as the rifle of his son among the arms. Even Hayward and David were furnished with weapons. Nor was ammunition wanting to render them all effectual. When the foresters had made their selection and distributed their prizes, the scout announced that the hour had arrived when it was necessary to move. By this time the song of Gamut had ceased, and the sisters had learned to still the exhibition of their emotions. Aided by Duncan and the younger Mohican, the two latter descended the precipitous sides of that hill which they had so lately ascended under so very different auspices, and whose summit had so nearly proved the scene of their massacre. At the foot they found the Narragansets browsing the herbage of the bushes, and having mounted they followed the movements of a guide who in the most deadly strates had so often proved himself their friend. The journey was, however, short. Hawkeye, leaving the blind path that the Teurons had followed, turned short to his right, and entering the thicket he crossed a babbling brook, and hauled it in a narrow dale, under the shade of a few water-elms. Their distance from the base of the fatal hill was but a few rods, and the steeds had been serviceable only in crossing the shallow stream. The scout and the Indians appeared to be familiar with the sequestered place, where they now were. For, leaning the rifle against the trees, they commenced throwing aside the dried leaves and opening the blue clay out of which a clear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing water quickly bubbled. The white men then looked about him as though seeking for some object, which was not to be found as readily as he expected. Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tuscarora and Onadaga brethren, have been here slaking their thirst, he muttered. And the vagabonds have thrown away the gourd. This is the way with benefits, when they are bestowed on such dismembering hounds. Here has the Lord laid his hand in the midst of the howling wilderness for their good, and raised a fountain of water from the bowels of the earth, that might laugh at the richest shop of apothecaries where in all the colonies, and see the knaves of trodden in the clay and deform the cleanliness of the place. As though they were brute beasts instead of human men, Uncus silently extended toward him the desired gourd, which the spleen of Hawkeye had hitherto prevented him from observing on a branch of an elm. Filling it with water, he retired a short distance to a place where the ground was more firm and dry. Here he coley seeded himself, and after taking a long and apparently a grateful draught, he commenced a very strict examination of the fragments of food left by the Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on his arm. Thank you, lad! he continued, returning the empty gourd to Uncus. Now we will see how these rampaging Hurons lived when outlying in ambushments. Look at this! The volets know the better pieces of the deer, and one would think they might carve and roast a saddle equal to the best cook in the land. But everything is raw, for the Iroquois are thorough savages. Uncus, take my steel and kin to a fire. A mouthful of tender boil will give nature a helping hand after so long a trail. Hayward, perceiving that their guides now set about their repast in sober earnest, assisted the ladies to a light, and placed himself at their side, not unwilling to enjoy a few moments of grateful rest after the bloody scene he had just gone through. While the culinary process was in hand, curiosity induced him to inquire into these circumstances which had led to their timely and unexpected rescue. How is it that we see you so soon, my generous friend? he asked. And without aid from the garrison of Edward, had we gone to the bend of the river, we might have been in time to rake the leaves over your bodies. But too late to have saved your scalps, coolly answered the scout. No, no. Instead of throwing away strength and opportunity by crossing to the fort, we lay by under the bank of the Hudson, waiting to watch the movements of the Hurons. You were then witnesses of all that passed? Not of all. For Indian sight is too keen to be easily cheated. And we kept close. A difficult matter it was, too, to keep this mehican boy snug in the ambushment. Ah, uncus, uncus. Your behavior was more like that of a curious woman. Then of a warrior on his scent. Uncus permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on the sturdy complements of the speaker. But he neither spoke, nor gave any indication of repentance. On the contrary, Hayward thought the manner the young mehican was disdainful, if not a little fierce, and that he suppressed passions that were ready to explode as much in complement to the listeners as from the deference he usually paid to his white associate. You saw our capture? Hayward next demanded. We heard it, was the significant answer. An Indian yell is plain language to men who have passed their days in the woods. But when you landed, we were driven to crawl like serpents beneath the leaves, and then we lost sight of you entirely, until we placed eyes on you again, trust to the trees, and ready bound for an Indian massacre. Our rescue was the deed of provenance. It was nearly a miracle that you did not mistake the path. For the Hurons divided, and each band had its horses. I, there we were thrown off the scent, and might, indeed have lost the trail, had it not been for Uncus. We took the path, however, that led into the wilderness. For we judged, and judged rightly, that the savages would hold that course with their prisoners. But when we had followed it for many miles, without finding a single twig broken as I had advised, my mind misgave me, especially as all the footsteps had the prints of moccasins. Our captors had the precaution to see us shod like themselves, said Duncan, raising a foot and exhibiting the buckskin he wore. I was judgmentical, and like themselves, though we were too expert to be thrown from a trail, by so common an invention. To what, then, are we indebted for our safety? To what, as a white man who has no taint of Indian blood, I should be ashamed to own, to the judgment of the young Mohican, in matters which I should know better than he, but which I can now hardly believe to be true, though my own eyes tell me it is so. "'Tis extraordinary! Will you not name the reason?' Uncus was bold enough to say that the beast, ridden by the gentle ones, continued Hawkeye, glancing his eyes not without curious interest on the fillies of the ladies, planted the legs of one side on the ground at the same time, which is contrary to the movements of all trotting four-footed animals of my knowledge except the bear. And yet here are horses that always journey in this manner, as my own eyes have seen, and as their trail has shown for twenty long miles. "'Tis the merit of the animal! They come from the shores of Narragansett Bay, in the small province of Providence Plantations, and are celebrated for their hardyhood and the ease of this peculiar movement. Though other horses are not unfrequently trained to the same. "'It may be, it may be,' said Hawkeye, who had listened with singular attention to this explanation. Though I am a man who has the full blood of the whites, my judgment in deer and beaver is greater than in beast of burden. Major Effingham has many noble charges, but I have never seen one travel with such a sighting-gate. True! For he would value the animals for very different properties. Still is this a breed highly esteemed and, as you witness, much honoured with the burdens it is often destined to bear. The Mohicans had suspended their operations about the glimmering fire to listen, and, when Duncan had done, they looked at each other significantly, the father uttering the never-failing exclamation of surprise. The scout ruminated, like a man digesting his newly acquired knowledge, and once more stole a glance at the horses. I dare say there are even stranger sights to be seen in the settlements, he said at length. Nature is sadly abused by man when he once gets the mastery. But go, sighting or go straight, Uncus has seen the movement, and their trail led us on to the broken bush. The elder branch knew the prints of one of the horses was bent upward. As a lady breaks a flower from its stem, but all the rest were ragged and broken down, as if the strong hand of a man had been tearing them. So I concluded that the cunning varmints had seen the twig bent, and had torn the rest to make us believe a buck had been feeling the bowels with his antlers. I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you. For some such thing occurred. That was easy to see, added the scout, in no degree conscious of having exhibited any extraordinary sagacity, and a very different matter it was from a waddling horse. It then struck me the mingos would push for the spring. For the naves well know the varchu of its waters. It is then so famous, demanded Hayward, examining with a more curious eye the secluded dale with its bubbling fountain surrounded as it was, by earth of a deep dingy brown. Few redskins who travel south and east of the great lakes, but have heard of its qualities. Will you taste for yourself? Hayward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little of the water, threw it aside with grimaces of discontent. The scout laughed, in a silent but heartfelt manner, and shook his head with vast satisfaction. You want the flavor that one gets by habit. The time was when I liked it as little as yourself. But I have come to my taste, and I now crave it, as a deer does the licks. Footnote. Many of the animals of the American forest resort to those spots where salt springs are found. These are called licks, or salt licks, in the language of the country. For the circumstances that the quadruped is often obliged to lick the earth in order to obtain the saline particles. These licks are great places of resort with the hunters, who waylay their game near the paths that lead to them. End quote. Your high-spiced wines are not better light than a redskin relish as this water, especially when its nature is ailing. But Ancus has made his fire, and it is time we think of eating, for our journey is long and all before us. Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, the scout had instant recourse to the fragments of food, which had escaped the veracity of the Hurons. A very summary process completed the simple cookery, when he and the Mohicans commenced their humble meal with a silence and characteristic diligence of men who ate in order to enable themselves to endure great and unremitting toil. When this necessary, and happily grateful duty, had been performed, each of the foresters stooped and took a long and parting draught at that solitary and silent spring footnote. The scene of the foregoing incidents is on the spot where the village of Boston now stands. One of the two principal watering places of America. End footnote. Around which, and its sister fountains, within fifty years the wealth, beauty, and talents of a hemisphere were to assemble in throngs in pursuit of health and pleasure. Then Hawkeye announced his determination to proceed. The sisters resumed their saddles. Duncan and David grasped their rifles and followed on footsteps. The scout leading the advance and the Mohicans bringing up the rear. The whole party moved swiftly through the narrow path toward the north, leaving the healing waters to mingle unheated with the adjacent brooks, and the bodies of the dead to fester on the neighboring mount. Without the rites of sepulcher. A fate but too common to the warriors of the woods to excite either commissuration or comment. End of Chapter 12 This reading by Gary W. Sherwin of Yukon, Pennsylvania in the summer of 2007 Chapter 13 of The Last of the Mohicans A Narrative of 1757 by James Finnemore Cooper This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Chapter 13 The route taken by Hawkeye lay across those sandy plains relieved by occasional valleys and swells of land which had been traversed by their party on the morning of the same day with baffled magwa for their guide. The sun had now fallen low toward the distant mountains, and as their journey lay through the interminable forest the heat was no longer oppressive. Their progress in consequence was proportionate, and long before the twilight gathered about them they had made good many toilsome miles of their return. The hunter, like the savage whose place he filled, seemed to select among the blind signs of their wild route with a species of instinct seldom abating his speed and never pausing to deliberate. A rapid and oblique glance at the moss of the trees with an occasional upward gaze toward the setting sun, or a steady but passing look at the direction of the numerous water-courses through which he waited were sufficient to determine his path and remove his greatest difficulties. In the meantime the forest began to change its hues, losing that lively green which had embellished its arches, in the graver light which is the usual precursor of the clothes of day, while the eyes of the sisters were endeavouring to catch glimpses through the trees of the flood of golden glory which formed a glittering halo around the sun, tinging here and there with ruby streaks or bordering with narrow edgings of shining yellow, a mass of clouds that lay piled at no great distance above the western hills. Hawkeye turned suddenly and pointing toward the gorgeous heavens he spoke. Yonder is the signal given to man to seek his food in natural rest, he said. Better and wiser would it be if he could understand the signs of nature and take a lesson from the fowls of the air and the beast of our field. Our night, however, will soon be over, for with the moon we must be up and moving again. I remember to have fought the maquis here ways in the first war in which I ever drew blood from a man, and we threw up a work of blocks to keep the ravenous varmints from handling our scalps. If my marks do not fail me, we shall find the place a few rods further to our left. Without waiting for an ascent or, indeed, for any reply, the sturdy hunter moved boldly into a dense thicket of young chestnuts, shoving aside the branches of the exuberant shoots which nearly covered the ground, like a man who expected at each step to discover some object he had formerly known. The recollection of the scout did not deceive him. After penetrating through the brush, matted as it was with briars for a few hundred feet, he entered an open space that surrounded a low green hillock, which was crowned by the decayed blockhouse in question. This rude and neglected building was one of those deserted works which, having been thrown up on an emergency, had been abandoned with the disappearance of danger, and was now quietly crumbling in the solitude of the forests, neglected and nearly forgotten like the circumstances which had caused it to be reared. Such memorials of the passage and struggles of man are yet frequent throughout the broad barrier of wilderness which once separated the hostile provinces, and form a species of ruins that are intimately associated with the recollections of colonial history, and which are in appropriate keeping with the gloomy character of the surrounding scenery. The roof of bark had long since fallen, and mingled with the soil, but the huge logs of pine, which had been hastily thrown together, still preserved their relative positions, though one angle of the work had given away under the pressure, and threatened a speedy downfall to the remainder of the rustic edifice. While Hayward and his companions hesitated to approach a building so decayed, Hawkeye and the Indians entered within the low walls, not only without fear, but with obvious interest. While the former surveyed the ruins, both internally and externally, with the curiosity of one whose recollections were reviving at each moment, Chinggacuk, related to his son in the language of the Delaware's, and with the pride of a conqueror, the brief history of the skirmish which had been fought in his youth in that secluded spot. A strain of melancholy, however, blended with his triumph, rendering his voice as usual, soft, and musical. In the meantime, the sisters gladly dismounted and prepared to enjoy their halt in the coolness of the evening, and in a security which they believed nothing but the beast of the forest could invade. Would not our resting place have been more retired, my worthy friend? demanded the more vigilant Duncan, perceiving that the scout had already finished his short survey. Had we chosen a spot less known, and one more rarely visited than this? Few live who know the blockhouse was ever raised, was the slow and amusing answer. Tis not often that books are made and narratives written of such a skirmish as was fought between the Mohicans and Mohawks in a war of their own waging. I was then a yonker and went out with the Delaware's because I knowed they were a scandalized and wrong race. Forty days and forty nights did the imps crave our blood around this pile of logs, which I designed and partly reared. Being, as you remember, no Indian myself, but a man without a cross, the Delaware's lent themselves to the work, and we made it good, ten to twenty, until our numbers were nearly equal, and then we sallied out upon the hounds, and not a man of them ever got back to tell the fate of his party. Yes, yes, I was then young and new to the sight of blood, and not relishing the thought that creatures who had spirits like myself should lay on the naked ground to be torn asunder by beasts or to bleach in the rains. I buried the dead with my own hands under that very little hillock where you have placed yourselves. And no bad seat does it make, either, though it be raised by the bones of mortal men. Hayward and the sisters arose on the instant from the grassy sepulchre. Nor could the two later, notwithstanding the terrific scenes they had so recently passed through, entirely suppress an emotion of natural horror when they found themselves in such familiar contact with the grave of the dead Mohawks. The gray light, the gloomy little area of dark grass surrounded by its border of brush, beyond which the pines rose in breathing silence, apparently into the very clouds and the death-like stillness of the vast forest were all in unison to deepen such a sensation. They are gone, and they are harmless continued Hawkeye, waving his hand with a melancholy smile at their manifest alarm. They'll never shout the war-hoop, nor strike a blow with the tomahawk again. And of all those who aided in placing them, were they lie. Chinchgotshkuk and I only are living. The brothers and family of the Mohican formed our war-party. And you see before you all that are now left of his race. The eyes of the listeners involuntarily sought the forms of the Indians with a compassionate interest in their desolate fortune. Their dark persons were still to be seen within the shadows of the blockhouse. The son listening on the relation of his father with that sort of intenseness, which would be created by a narrative that redounded so much to the honor of those whose names he had long revered for their courage and savage virtues. I had thought the Delaware's a Pacific people, said Duncan, and that they never waged war in person, trusting the defense of their hands to those very Mohawks that you slew. Tis true, in part, returned the scout. And yet at the bottom Tis a wicked lie. Such a treaty was made in ages gone by, through the devil-trees of the Dutchers, who wished to disarm the natives that had the best right to the country, where they had settled themselves. The Mohicans, though a part of the same nation, having to deal with the English, never entered into the silly bargain, but kept to their manhood, has in truth did the Delaware's when their eyes were open to their folly. You see before you a chief of the great Mohican Sagamores. Once his family could chase their deer over tracks of country wider than which belongs to the Albany Pateroon, without crossing brook or hill that was not their own. But what is left of their descendant? He may find his six feet of earth when God chooses, and keep it in peace, perhaps, if he has a friend who will take the pains to sink his head so low that the plowshares cannot reach it. Enough, said Hayward, apprehensive that the subject might lead to a discussion that would interrupt the harmony so necessary to the preservation of his fair companions. We have journeyed far, and few among us are blessed with forms like that of yours, which seems not to know neither fatigue nor weakness. The sinews and bones of a man carry me through it all, said the hunter, surveying his muscular limbs with the simplicity that betrayed the honest pleasure the compliment afforded him. There are larger and heavier men to be found in the settlements, but you might travel many days in a city before you could meet one able to walk fifty miles without stopping to take breath, or who has kept the hounds within hearing during a chase of hours. However, as flesh and blood are not always the same, it is quite reasonable to suppose that the gentle ones are willing to rest after all they have seen and done this day. Uncus, clear out the spring while your father and I make a cover for their tender heads of these chestnut shoots and a bed of grass and leaves. The dialogue ceased, while the hunter and his companions busied themselves in preparations for the comfort and protection of those they guided. A spring which many long years before had induced the natives to select the place for their temporary fortification was soon cleared of leaves, and a fountain of crystal gushed from the bed, diffusing its waters over the verdant hillock. A corner of the building was then roofed in such a manner as to exclude the heavy dew of the climate, and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves were laid beneath it for the sisters to repose on. While the diligent woodsmen were employed in this manner, Cora and Alice partook of that refreshment, which duty required much more than inclination prompted them to accept. They then retired within the walls, and first offering up their thanksgiving for past mercies and petitioning for continuance of the divine favor throughout the coming night, they laid their tender forms on the fragrant couch, and in spite of recollections and forebodings soon sank into those slumbers which nature so imperiously demanded, and which were sweetened by hopes of the morrow. Duncan had prepared himself to pass the night in watchfulness near them, just without the ruin. But the scout, perceiving his intention, pointed toward Shinjigocchuk, as he coolly disposed his own person on the grass and said, The eyes of a white man are too heavy and too blind for such a watch as this. The Mohican will be our sentinel, therefore let us sleep. I proved myself a slugger on my post during the past night, said Hayward, and have less need of repose than you, who did more credit to the character of a soldier. Let all the party seek their rest, then, while I hold the guard. If we lay among the white tents of the sixtieth, and in front of an enemy like the French, I could not ask for a better watchman, returned the scout, but in the darkness and among the signs of the wilderness your judgment will be like the folly of a child, and your vigilance thrown away. Do then, like Uncus and myself, sleep, and sleep in safety. Hayward perceived in truth that the younger Indian had prone his form on the side of the hillock while they were talking, like one who sought to make the most of the time allotted to rest, and that his example had been followed by David, whose voice literally clove to his jaws with the fever of his wound, heightened as it was by their toilsome march. Unwilling to prolong a useless discussion, the young man affected to comply by posting his back against the logs of the blockhouse in a half-recumbent posture, though resolutely determined in his own mind not to close an eye until he had delivered his precious charge into the arms of Monroe himself. Hawkeye, believing he had prevailed, soon fell asleep, and a silence as deep as the solitude in which they had found it, pervaded the retired spot. For many minutes Duncan succeeded in keeping his senses on the alert, and alive to every moaning sound that arose from the forest. His vision became more acute as the shades of evening settled on the place, and even after the stars were gloomering above his head, he was able to distinguish the recumbent forms of his companions as they lay stretched on the grass, and to note the person of Chinchgochkuk, who sat upright and motionless as one of the trees which formed the dark barrier on every side. He still heard the breathings of the sisters who lay within a few feet of him, and not a leaf was ruffled by the passing air of which his ear did not detect the whispering sound. At length, however, the mournful notes of a whipper-wheel became blended with the moanings of an owl. His heavy eyes occasionally sought the bright rays of the stars, and he then fancied he saw them through the fallen lids. At instance of momentary wakefulness he mistook a bush for his associate sentinel, his head next sank upon his shoulder, which in its turn sought the support of the ground. And finally his whole person became relaxed and pliant, and the young man sank into a deep sleep, dreaming that he was a night of ancient chivalry, holding his midnight vigils before the tent of a recaptured princess, whose favor he did not despair of gaining by such a proof of devotion and watchfulness. How long the tired Duncan lay in this insensible state! He never knew himself. But his slumbering visions had been long lost in total forgetfulness, when he was awakened by a light tap on the shoulder. Aroused by this signal, slight as it was, he sprang upon his feet with a confused recollection of the self-imposed duty he had assumed with the commencement of the night. Who comes! he demanded, feeling for his sword at the place where it was usually suspended. Speak! Friend or enemy? Friend! replied the low voice of Chinchgauch Cook, who, pointing upward at the luminary, which was shedding its mild light through the opening in the trees directly above their bivouac, immediately added in his rude English. Moon comes, and white men's fort, far, far off. Time to move, when sleep shuts both eyes of the Frenchman. You say true. Call up your friends and bridle the horses, while I prepare my own companions for the march. We are awake, Duncan, said the soft silvery tones of Alice within the building, and ready to travel very fast, after so refreshing asleep. But you have watched through the tedious night in our behalf, after having endured so much fatigue the live-long day. Say, rather, I would have watched. But my treacherous eyes betrayed me. Twice have I proved myself unfit for the trust I bear. Nay, Duncan, deny it not, interrupted the smiling Alice, issuing from the shadows the building into the light of the moon, in all the loveliness of her fresh and beauty. I know you to be a heedless one. One self is the object of your care. But too vigilant in favor of others. Can we not tarry here a little longer, while you find the rest you need? Cheerfully, most cheerfully, will Cora and I keep the vigils, while you and all these brave men endeavor to snatch a little sleep? If shame could cure me of my drowsiness, I should never close an eye again, said the uneasy youth, gazing at the ingenuous continents of Alice, where, however, in its sweet solicitude, he read nothing to confirm his half-awake in suspicion. It is but true that after leading you into danger by my heedlessness, I have not even the merit of guarding your pillows, as should become a soldier. No one but Duncan himself should accuse Duncan of such a weakness. Go, then, and sleep, believe me, neither of us weak girls as we are, we'll betray our watch. The young man was relieved from the awkwardness of making any further protestations of his own demerits, by an exclamation from Chinchgoch Cook, and the attitude of riveted attention assumed by his son. The mehicans hear an enemy, whispered Hawkeye, who, by this time, in common with the whole party, was awake and stirring. They sent danger in the wind. God forbid, exclaimed Hayward, surely we have had enough of bloodshed. While he spoke, however, the young soldier seized his rifle and advancing toward the front, prepared to atone for his venial remissness by freely exposing his life in defense of those he attended. Do some creature of the forest prowling around us in quest of food? he said in a whisper. As soon as the low and apparently distant sounds, which had startled the mehicans, reached his own ears, returned the attend of Scout to his man. Even I can now tell his tread. Poor as my senses are when compared to an Indian's. That scampering Huron has fallen in with one of Mount Combe's outlying parties, and they have struck upon our trail. I shouldn't like myself to spill more human blood in this spot, he added, looking around with anxiety in his features at the dim objects by which he was surrounded. But what must be must lead the horses into the blockhouse. Ancus and friends, do you follow to the same shelter? Poor and old as it is, it offers a cover, and has rung with the crack of a rifle before tonight. He was instantly obeyed, the mehicans leading the Narragansets within the ruin, wither the whole party repaired with the most guarded silence. The sound of approaching footsteps were now too distinctly audible to leave any doubts as to the nature of the interruption. They were soon mingled with voices calling to each other in an Indian dialect, which the hunter, in a whisper, affirmed to Hayward, was the language of the Hurons. When the party reached the point where the horses had entered the thicket which surrounded the blockhouse, they were evidently at fault, having lost those marks which, until that moment, had directed their pursuit. It would seem by the voices that twenty men were soon collected at that one spot, mingling their different opinions and advice in noisy clamour. The knaves know our weaknesses, whispered Hawkeye, who stood by the side of Hayward in deep shade, looking through and opening in the logs, or they wouldn't indulge their idleness in such a squalls march. Listen to the reptiles. Each man among them seems to have two tongues and put a single leg. Duncan, brave as he was in the combat, could not, in such a moment of painful suspense, make any reply to the cool and characteristic remark of the scout. He only grasped his rifle more firmly, and fastened his eyes upon the narrow opening through which he gazed upon the moonlight view, with increasing anxiety. The deeper tones of one who spoke as having authority were next heard, amid a silence that denoted the respect with which his orders, or rather advice, was received. After which, by the rustling of leaves and crackling of dried twigs, it was apparent that the savages were separating in pursuit of the lost trail. Fortunately for the pursuit, the light of the moon, while it shed a flood of wild luster upon the little area about the ruin, was not sufficiently strong to penetrate the deep arches of the forest, where the objects still lay in deceptive shadow. The search proved fruitless, for so short and sudden had been the passage from the faint path the travelers had journeyed into the thicket, that every trace of their footsteps was lost in the obscurity of the woods. It was not long, however, before the restless savages were heard beating the brush, and gradually approaching the inner edge of that dense border of young chestnuts, which encircled the little area. They are combing, muttered Hayward, endeavouring to thrust his rifle through the chink in the logs, let us fire upon their approach, keep everything in the shade, return the scout, the snapping of a flint, or even the smell of a single carnal of brimstone would bring the hungry varrots upon us in a body. Should it please God that we must give battle for the scalps, trust to the experience of men who know the ways of the savages, and who are not often backward when the war-hoop is howled. Duncan cast his eyes behind him, and saw that the trembling sisters were cowering in the far corner of the building, while the Mohican stood in the shadow like two upright posts, ready, and apparently willing, to strike when the blow should be needed. Curbing his impatience, he again looked out upon the area, and awaited the result in silence. At that instant the thicket opened, and a tall and armed Huron advanced a few paces into the open space. As he gazed upon the silent blockhouse, the moon fell upon his swarly countenance, and betrayed its surprise and curiosity. He made the exclamation, which usually accompanies the former emotion of an Indian, and, calling in the low voice, soon drew a companion to his side. These children of the woods stood together for several moments, pointing at the crumbling out of us, and conversing in the unintelligible language of their tribe. They then approached, though with slow and cautious steps, pausing every instant to look at the building, like startled deer whose curiosity struggled powerfully with their awakened apprehensions for the mastery. The foot of one of them suddenly rested on the mound, and he stopped to examine its nature. At this moment Hayward observed that the scout loosened his knife in its sheath, and lowered the muzzle of his rifle. Imitating these movements, the young man prepared himself for the struggle, which now seemed inevitable. The savages were so near that the least motion in one of the horses, or even a breath louder than common, would have betrayed the fugitives. But in discovering the character of the mound, the attention of the Hurons appeared directed to a different object. They spoke together, and the sound of their voices were low and solemn, as if influenced by a reverence that was deeply blended with awe. Then they drew warily back, keeping their eyes riveted on the ruin, as if they expected to see the apparitions of the dead issue from its silent walls. Until having reached the boundary of the area, they moved slowly into the thicket and disappeared. Hawkeye dropped the breach of his rifle to the earth, and drawing a long free breath exclaimed in unaudible whisper. I, they respect the dead, and it has this time saved their own lives. And it may be, the lives of better men, too. Hayward lent his attention for a single moment to his companion, but without replying, he again turned toward those who had just then interest him more. He heard the two Hurons leave the bushes. And it was soon plain that all the pursuers were gathered about them, in deep attention of their report. After a few minutes of earnest and solemn dialogue, altogether different from the noisy clamour with which they had first collected about the spot, the sounds grew fainter and more distant, and finally were lost in the depths of the forest. Hawkeye waited until a signal from the listening chinch-gotch-cook assured him that every sound from the retiring party was completely swallowed by the distance, when he motioned to Hayward to lead forth the horses and to assist the sisters into their saddles. The instant this was done, they issued through the broken gateway, and stealing out by a direction opposite to the one by which they entered, they quitted the spot, the sisters casting furtive glances at the silent grave and crumbling ruin as they left the soft light of the moon to bury themselves in the gloom of the woods. End of Chapter 13 This reading by Gary W. Sherwin of Yukon, Pennsylvania in the summer of 2007 Chapter 14 of The Last of the Mohicans, a narrative of 1757 by James Fenimore Cooper This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Chapter 14 During the rapid movement from the blockhouse and until the party was deeply buried in the forest, each individual was too much interested in the escape to hazard a word even in whispers. The scout resumed his post in advance, though his steps after he had thrown a safe distance between himself and his enemies were more deliberate than in their previous march, in consequence of his utter ignorance of the localities of the surrounding woods. More than once he halted to consult with his confederates, the Mohicans, pointing upward at the moon and examining the barks of the trees with care. In these brief pauses, Hayward and the sisters listened, with senses rendered doubly acute by the danger, to detect any symptoms which might announce the proximity of their foes. At such moments, it seemed as if the vast range of country lay buried in eternal sleep, not the least sound arising from the forest, unless it was the distant and scarcely audible rippling of a water-course. Birds, beast, and man appeared to slumber alike, if indeed any of the latter were to be found in that wide tract of wilderness. But the sounds of the rivulet, feeble and murmuring as they were, relieved the guides at once from no trifling embarrassment, and toward it they immediately held their way. When the banks of the little stream were gained, Hawkeye made another halt, and taking the moccasins from his feet, he invited Hayward and Gamut to follow his example. He then entered the water, and for near an hour they traveled in the bed of the brook, leaving no trail. The moon had already sunk into an immense pile of black clouds which lay impending above the western horizon, when they issued from the low and devious water-course to rise again to the light and the level of the sandy but wooded plain. Here the scouts seemed to be once more at home, for he held on his way with the certainty and the diligence of a man who moved in the security of his own knowledge. The path soon became more uneven, and the travelers could plainly perceive that the mountains drew nire to them on each hand, and that they were in truth about entering one of their gorges. Suddenly Hawkeye made a pause, and waiting until he was joined by the whole party, he spoke, though in tone so low and cautious that they added to the solemnity of his words in the quiet and darkness of the place. It is easy to know the pathways, and to find the licks and water-courses of the wilderness, he said, but who that saw this spot could venture to say that a mighty army was at rest among yonder silent trees and barren mountains. We are then at no great distance from William Henry, said Hayward, advancing nire to the scout. It is yet a long and weary path, and when and where to strike it is now our greatest difficulty. See, he said, pointing through the trees toward a spot where a little basin of water reflected the stars from its placid bosom. Here is the bloody pond, and I am on ground that I have not only often traveled, but over which I have fought the enemy from the rising to the setting of the sun. Ha! That sheet of dull and dreary water, then, is the sepulchre of the brave men who fell in the contest. I have heard it named, but never have I stood on its banks before. Three battles we did make with the Dutch Frenchmen in a day, continued Hawkeye, pursuing the train of his own thoughts rather than replying to the remark of Duncan. Footnote, Baron de Scal, a German in the service of France. A few years previously to the period of the tale, this officer was defeated by Sir William Johnson of Johnstown, New York, on the shores of Lake George. And footnote, he met us hard by in our outward march to ambush his advance, and scattered us like driven deer through the defile to the shores of Horekin. Then we rallied behind our fallen trees, and made head against him under Sir William, who was made Sir William for that very deed. And well did we pay him for the disgrace of the morning. Hundreds of Frenchmen saw the sun that day for the last time, and even their leader, de Scal himself, fell into our hands. So cut and torn with the lead that he has gone back to his own country, unfit for further acts in war. It was a noble repulse, exclaimed Hayward, in the heat of his youthful ardor, the fame of it reached us early in our southern army. I, but it did not end there. I was sent by Major Effingham, at Sir William's own bidding, to outflank the French, and carry the tidings of their disaster across the portage to the fort on the Hudson. Just here away, where you see the trees rise into a mountain swell, I met a party coming down to our aid, and I led them where the enemy were taking their meal, little dreaming that they had not finished the bloody work of the day. And you surprised them? If death can be a surprise to men who are thinking only of the cravings of their appetites. We gave them but little breathing time, for they had borne hard upon us in the fight of the morning, and there were few in our party who had not lost friend or relative by their hands. When all was over, the dead and some say the dying were cast into that little pond. These eyes seen its waters colored with blood as natural water never yet flowed from the bowels of the earth. It was a convenient, and I trust will prove a peaceful grave for a soldier. You have then seen much service on this frontier? I said the scout, erecting his tall person with an air of military pride. There are not many echoes among these hills that haven't rung with the crack of my rifle, nor is there the space of a square mile at wicks the hurricane and the river that Kildir hasn't dropped the living body on, be it an enemy or be it a brute beast. As for the grave there being as quiet as you mentioned, it is another matter. There are them in the camp who say and think, man to lie still should not be buried while the breath is in the body, and certain it is that in the hurry of that evening the doctors had but little time to say who was living and who was dead. Hissed! See you nothing walking on the shore of the pond? It is not probable that any are as houseless as ourselves in this dreary forest, such as he may care but little for health or shelter, and night dew can never wet a body that passes its days in the water, returned the scout. Grasping the shoulder of hayward with such convulsive strength as to make the young soldier painfully sensible how much superstitious terror had got the mastery of a man usually so dauntless. By heaven there is a human form and it approaches. Stand to your arms, my friends, for we know not whom we encounter. Demanded a stern quick voice, which sounded like a challenge from another world, issuing out from that solitary and solemn place. What says it? whispered the scout. It speaks neither Indian nor English. Repeated the same voice, which was quickly followed by the rattling of arms and a menacing attitude. Cried Hayward, advancing from the shadow of the trees to the shore of the pond, within a few yards of the sentinel. Demanded the grenadier in the language and the accent of a man from old France. Hayward well knew that the other was a regimen of the line. Exclaimed the young soldier touching his cap with grace. Said Cora, with admiral self-possession. The soldier made a low and humble acknowledgement for her civility. They moved deliberately forward, leaving the sentinel, pacing the banks of the silent pond, little suspecting an enemy of so much effrontery and humming to himself those words which were recalled to his mind by the sight of women, and perhaps by recollections of his own distant and beautiful friends. Tis well you understood, Denave, whispered the scout, when they had gained a little distance from the place, and letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm again. I soon saw that he was one of them uneasy Frenchers, and well for him it was that his speech was friendly and his wishes kind, or a place might have been found for his bones among those of his countrymen. He was interrupted by a long and heavy groan which arose from the little basin, as though in truth the spirits of the departed lingered about their watery sepulcher. Surely it was flesh, continued the scout. No spirit could handle its arms so steadily. It was a flesh, but whether the poor fellow still belongs to this world may well be doubted, said Hayward, glancing his eyes around him and missing Chinchgoch Cook from their little band. Another groan, more faint than the former, was seceded by heavy and sullen plunge into the water, and all was still again, as if the borders of the dreary pool had never been awakened from the silence of creation. While they yet hesitated in uncertainty, the form of the Indian was seen gliding out of the thicket. As the chief rejoined them, with one hand he attached the reeking scalp of the unfortunate young Frenchman to his girdle, and with the other he replaced the knife and tomahawk that had drunk his blood. He then took his wanted station with the air of a man who believed he had done a deed of merit. The scout dropped one end of his rifle to the earth, and, leaning his hands on the other, he stood musing in profound silence. Then shaking his head in a mournful matter he muttered, it would have been a cruel and unhuman act for a white skin, but tis the gift and nature of an Indian, and I suppose it should not be denied. I could wish, though, it had be fallen in a cursed mingo, rather than that gay young boy from the old countries. Enough, said Hayward, apprehensive of the unconscious sisters might comprehend the nature of the detention, and conquering is discussed by a train of reflections very much like that of the hunter. Tis done, and though better it were left undone, cannot be amended. You see, we are too obviously within the sentinels of the enemy. What course do you propose to follow? Yes, said Hawkeye, rousing myself again. Tis, as you say, too late to harbour further thoughts about it. I, the French have gathered around the Fort in good earnest, and we have a delicate needle to thread in passing them. And but little time to do it in, added Hayward, glancing his eyes upwards toward the bank of vapor that concealed the setting moon, and little time to do it in. Repeated the scout. The thing may be done in two fashions by the help of Providence, without which it may not be done at all. Name them quickly for time presses. One would be to dismount the gentle ones, and let their peace derange the plain. By sending the Mohicans in front, we might then cut a lane through their sentries, and enter the fort over the dead bodies. It will not do. It will not do. Interrupted the generous Hayward. A soldier might force his way in this manner, but never with such a convoy. To it be indeed a bloody path for such tender feet to wade in, return the equally reluctant scout. But I thought it be fitting my man who would to name it. We must then turn in our trail, and get without the line of their lookouts. When we will bend short to the west, and enter the mountains, where I can hide you so that the devil's hounds in Montcombe's pay will be thrown off the scent, for months to come. Let it be done, and that instantly. Further words were unnecessary. For Hawkeye, merely uttering the mandate to, follow, moved along the route by which they had just entered, their present critical and even dangerous situation. Their progress, like their late dialogue, was guarded, and without noise, for none knew at what moment a passing patrol, or a crouching picket of the enemy, might rise upon their path. As they held their silent way along the margin of the pond, again hayward in the scout stole furtive glances at its appalling dreariness. They looked in vain for the form they had so recently seen, stalking along in silent shores, while a low and regular wash of the little waves, by announcing that the waters were not yet subsided, furnished a frightful memorial of the deed of blood they had just witnessed. Like all that passing and gloomy scene, the low basin, however, quickly melted in the darkness, and became blended with the mass of black objects in the rear of the travelers. Hawkeye soon deviated from the line of their retreat, and striking off towards the mountains, which form the western boundary of the narrow plain, he led his followers with swift steps, deep within the shadows that were cast from their high and broken summits. The route was now painful, lying over ground ragged with rocks, and intersected with ravines, and their progress proportionately slow. Bleak and black hills lay on every side of them, compensating in some degree for the additional toil of the march, by the sense of security they imparted. At length, the party began slowly to rise a steep and rugged ascent, by a path that curiously wound among rocks and trees, avoiding the one and supported by the other, in a manner that showed it had been devised by men long practiced in the arts of the wilderness. As they gradually rose from the level of the valleys, the thick darkness which usually precedes the approach of day began to disperse, and objects were seen in the plain and palpable colors, with which they had been gifted by nature. When they issued from the stunted woods, which clung to the barren sides of the mountain, upon a flat and mossy rock that formed its summit, they met the morning as it came blushing above the green pines of a hill that lay on the opposite side of the valley of the hurricane. The scout now told the sisters to dismount, and taken the bridles from the mouths, and the saddles off the backs of the jaded beast, he turned them loose to glean a scanty substance among the shrubs and meager herbage of that elevated region. Go, he said, and seek your food where nature gives it to you, and beware that you become not food to ravenous wolves yourselves among these hills. Have we no further need of them? demanded Hayward. See and judge with your own eyes, said the scout, advancing toward the eastern brow of the mountain, wither he beckoned for the whole party to follow. If it was as easy to look into the heart of man as it is to spy out the nakedness of Montcombe's camp from this spot, hypocrites would grow scarce, and the cunning of a mingo might prove a losing game compared to the honesty of a Delaware. When the travelers reached the verge of the precipices, they saw at a glance the truth of the scout's declaration, and the admirable foresight with which he had led them to their commanding station. The mountain on which they stood, elevated perhaps a thousand feet in the air, was a high cone that rose a little in advance of that range which stretches for miles along the western shores of the lake. Until meeting its sisters miles beyond the water, it ran off toward the Canada's in confused and broken masses of rock, thinly sprinkled with evergreens. Immediately at the feet of the party, the southern shore of the Horrican swept in a broad semicircle from mountain to mountain, making a wide strand that soon rose into an uneven and somewhat elevated plain. To the north stretched the limpid, and as it appeared from that dizzy height, the narrow sheet of the Holy Lake, indented with numberless bays, embellished by fantastic headlands, and dotted with countless islands. At the distance of a few leagues, the bed of the water became lost among mountains, or was wrapped in the masses of vapor that came slowly rolling along their bosom before a light morning air. But a narrow opening between the crest of the hills pointed out the passage by which they found their way still further north, to spread their pure and ample sheets again before pouring out their tribute into the distant Champlain. To the south stretched the defile or rather broken plain, so often mentioned. For several miles in this direction the mountains appeared reluctant to yield their dominion, but within reach of the eye they diverged, and finally melted into the level and sandy lands, across which we have accompanied our adventurers in their double journey. Along both ranges of hills which bounded the opposite sides of the lake and valley, clouds of light vapor were rising in spiral wreaths from the uninhabited woods. Looking like the smoke of hidden cottages, or rolled lazily down the declivities to mingle with the fogs of the lower land, a single solitary snow white cloud floated above the valley, and marked the spot beneath which lay the silent pool of the bloody pond. Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its western than its eastern margin, lay the extensive earthen ramparts and low buildings of William Henry. Two of the sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the water, which washed their bases, while a deep ditch and extensive morasses guarded its other sides and angles. The land had been cleared of wood for a reasonable distance around the work, but every other part of the scene lay in the green library of nature, except where the limpid water mellowed the view, or the bold rocks thrust their black and naked heads above the undulating outline of the mountain ranges. In this front might be seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary watch against their numerous foes. And within the walls themselves, the travelers looked down upon men still drowsy, with a night of vigilance. Toward the southeast, but in immediate contact with the fort, was an entrenched camp, posted on a rocky eminence that would have been far more eligible for the work itself, in which Hawkeye pointed out the presence of those auxiliary regiments that had so recently left the Hudson in their company. From the woods a little further to the south rose numerous dark and large smokes, which were easily to be distinguished from the pure exaltations of the springs, and which the scout also showed to Hayward, as evidences that the enemy lay in force in that direction. But the spectacle which most concerned the young soldier was on the western bank of the lake, though quite near to its southern termination. On a strip of land which appeared from this stand too narrow to contain such an army, but which in truth extended many hundreds of yards from the shores of the hurricane to the base of the mountain, were to be seen the white tents and military engines of an encampment of ten thousand men. Batteries were already thrown up in their front, and even while the spectators above them were looking down, with such different emotions, on a scene which lay like a map beneath their feet, the roar of artillery rose from the valley and passed off in thundering echoes along the eastern hills. Mourning is just touching them below, said the deliberate amusing scout, and the watchers have a mind to wake up the sleepers by the sound of cannon. We are a few hours too late. Montcalm has already filled the woods with his accursed Iroquois. The place is indeed invested, returned Duncan. But is there no expedient by which we may enter? Capturing the works would be far preferable to falling again into the hands of roving Indians. See! exclaimed the scout, unconsciously directing the attention of Cora to the quarters of her own father. How that shot has made the stones fly from the side of the Commodown's house. I, these Frenchers, will pull it to pieces faster than it was put together. Solid and thick though it be. Heyward, I sickened at the sight of danger that I cannot share, said the undaunted but anxious daughter. Let us go to Montcalm and demand admission. He dare not deny a child the boon. You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman with the hair on your head, said the blunt scout. If I had but one of the thousand boats which lie among that shore it might be done. Ha! here will soon be an end of the firing. For yonder comes a fog that will turn day to night, and make an Indian arrow more dangerous than a molded cannon. Now, if you are equal to the work and will follow, I will make a push, for I long to get down into the camp, if it be only to scatter some mingled dogs that I see lurking in the skirts of yonder thicket of birch. We are equal, said Cora firmly. On such an errand we will follow to any danger. The scout turned to her with a smile of honest and cordial approbation. As he answered, I would I had a thousand men of brawny limbs and quick eyes that feared death as little as you. I d send them jabbering Frenchers back into their den again before the week was ended, howling like so many fettered hounds or hungry wolves. But, sir, he added, turning from her to the rest of the party. The fog comes rolling down so fast, we shall have but just the time to meet it on the plane, and use it as a cover. Remember, if any accident should be follow me, to keep the air blowing on your left cheeks, or rather, follow the Mohicans. They d sent their way, be it in day or be it at night. He then waved his hand for them to follow, and threw himself down the steep declivity with free but careful footsteps. Hayward assisted the sisters to descend, and in a few minutes they were all far down a mountain whose sides they had climbed with so much toil and pain. The direction taken by Hawkeye soon brought the travelers to the level of the plane, nearly opposite to a sallyport in the western curtain of the fort, which lay itself at the distance of about half a mile from the point where he halted to a loud Duncan to come up with his charge. In their eagerness, and favored by the nature of the ground, they had anticipated the fog which was rolling heavily down the lake, and it became necessary to pause until the mist had wrapped the camp of the enemy in their fleecy mantle. The Mohicans profited by the delay to steal out of the woods, and to make a survey of surrounding objects. They were followed at a little distance by the scout, with a view to profit early by their report, and to obtain some faint knowledge for himself of the more immediate localities. In a very few moments he returned. His face reddened with vexation, while he muttered his disappointment in words of no very gentle import. Here has the cunning Frenchman been posting a picket, directly in our path, he said, redskins and whites, and we shall be as likely to fall into their midst as to pass them in the fog. Cannot we make a circuit to avoid the danger, asked Hayward, and come into our path again when it is past? Who that once bends from the line of his march in a fog can tell when he or how to find it again. The mist of Horrican are not like the curls of a peace-pipe, or the smoke which settles above a mosquito-fire. He was yet speaking when a crashing sound was heard, and a cannon-ball entered the thicket, striking the body of a sapling and rebounding to the earth, its force much expended by previous resistance. The Indians followed instantly, like busy attendants on the terrible messenger, and Unkas commenced speaking earnestly and with much action in the Delaware tongue. It may be so, lad, muttered the scout when he had ended, for desperate fevers are not to be treated like a toothache. Come, then, the fog is shutting in. Stop, cried Hayward, first explain your expectations. Tis soon done, and a small hope it is, but it is better than nothing. This shot that you see, added the scout, kicking the harmless iron with his foot, has plowed the earth in its road from the fort, and we shall hunt for the furrow it has made when all other signs may fail. No more words, but follow, or the fog may leave us in the middle of our path, a mark for both armies to shoot at. Hayward, perceiving that, in fact, a crisis had arrived, when acts were more required than words, placed himself between the sisters, and drew them swiftly forward, keeping the dim figure of their leader in his eye. It was soon apparent that Hawkeye had not magnified the power of the fog, for before they had proceeded twenty yards, it was difficult for the different individuals of the party to distinguish each other in the vapor. They had made their little circuit to the left, and were already inclining again toward the right, having as Hayward thought, got over nearly half the distance to the friendly works. When his ears were saluted with the fierce summons apparently within twenty feet of them of, Push on, whispered the scout, once more bending to the left. Push on, repeated Hayward, when the summons was renewed by a dozen voices, each of which seemed charged with menace. cried Duncan, dragging rather than leading those he supported swiftly onward. The order was instantly obeyed, and the fog was stirred by the explosion of fifty muskets. Happily, the aim was bad, and the bullets cut the air in a direction a little different from that taken by the fugitives. Though still so nigh them, that to the unpracticed ears of David and the two females, it appeared as if they whistled within a few inches of the organs. The outcry was renewed, and the order not only to fire again but to pursue was too plainly audible. When Hayward briefly explained the meaning of the words they heard, Hawkeye halted and spoke with quick decision and great firmness. Let us deliver our fire, he said. They will believe it a sortie and give way, or they will wait for reinforcements. The scheme was well conceived, but failed in its effects. The instant the French heard the pieces, it seemed as if the plane was alive with men, muskets rattling along its whole extent from the shores of the lake to the furthest boundary of the woods. We shall draw their entire army upon us and bring on a general assault, said Duncan. Lead on, my friend, for your own life and ours. The scouts seemed willing to comply, but in the hurry of the moment and in the change of position he had lost the direction. In vain he turned either cheek toward the light air. They felt equally cool. In this dilemma, Uncus lighted on the furrow of the cannonball, where it had cut the ground in three adjacent ant hills. Give me the range, said Hawkeye, bending to catch a glimpse of the direction and then instantly moving onward. Cries, oaves, voices calling to each other, and the reports of muskets which were now quick and incessant, and apparently on every side of them, suddenly a strong glare of light flashed across the scene. The fog rolled upward in thick wreaths, and several cannons belched across the plane, and the roar was thrown heavily back from the bellowing echoes of the mountain. Tis from the fort, exclaimed Hawkeye, turning short on his tracks. And we, like stricken fools, were rushing to the woods under the very knives of the maquis. The instant their mistake was rectified, the whole party retraced the error with the utmost diligence. Duncan willingly relinquished the support of Cora to the arm of Uncus, and Cora, as readily accepted the welcome assistance. Men, hot and angry in pursuit, were evidently on their footsteps, and each instant threatened their capture, if not their destruction. Pult the country out on Kukau, cried an eager pursuer, who seemed to direct the operations of the enemy. Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant six-deaths, suddenly exclaimed the voice above them. Wait to see the enemy, fire low, and sweep the glassies. Father, father, exclaimed a piercing cry from out the mist. It is high, Alice, high on Elsie, spare, oh, save your daughters! Hold, shouted the former speaker in the awful tones of paternal agony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and rolling back in solemn echo, to she, God, has restored me to my children. Throw open the sally port in the field sixteenths, to the field, pull not a trigger, lest you kill my lambs. Drive off these dogs of France with your steel. Duncan heard the grating of the rusty hinges, and darting to the spot directed by the sound, he met a long line of dark red warriors passing swiftly toward the glassies. He knew them from his own battalion of the royal Americans, and flying to their head soon swept every trace of his pursuers from before the works. For an instant, Corrin Alice stood trembling and bewildered by this unexpected desertion. But before either had leisure for speech, or even thought, an officer of gigantic frame, whose locks were bleached with years of service, but whose air of military grandeur had been rather softened and destroyed by time, rushed out of the body of mist and folded them to his bosom. While large, scalding tears rolled down his pale and wrinkled cheeks, and he exclaimed in the peculiar accent of Scotland, For this I thank thee, Lord, let danger come as it will, thy servant is now prepared.