The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXIX

  "The assembly seated, rising o'er the rest, Achilles thus the king of men addressed."

  POPE'S _Iliad._

  Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms in those ofAlice, in the tenderness of sisterly love. Notwithstanding the fearfuland menacing array of savages on every side of her, no apprehension onher own account could prevent the noble-minded maiden from keeping hereyes fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling Alice.Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest in both, that, atsuch a moment of intense uncertainty, scarcely knew a preponderance infavor of her whom he most loved. Hawkeye had placed himself a little inthe rear, with a deference to the superior rank of his companions, thatno similarity in the state of their present fortunes could induce him toforget. Uncas was not there.

  When perfect silence was again restored, and after the usual long,impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs who sat at the side of thepatriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in very intelligible English,--

  "Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine?"

  Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. The former, however, glanced hiseyes around the dark and silent assembly, and recoiled a pace, when theyfell on the malignant visage of Magua. He saw, at once, that this wilysavage had some secret agency in their present arraignment before thenation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in the way ofthe execution of his sinister plans. He had witnessed one instance ofthe summary punishments of the Indians, and now dreaded that hiscompanion was to be selected for a second. In this dilemma, with littleor no time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak hisinvaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself. Before he hadtime, however, to speak, the question was repeated in a louder voice,and with a clearer utterance.

  "Give us arms," the young man haughtily replied, "and place us inyonder woods. Our deeds shall speak for us!"

  "This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!" returned thechief, regarding Heyward with that sort of curious interest which seemsinseparable from man, when first beholding one of his fellows to whommerit or accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. "What hasbrought the white man into the camp of the Delawares?"

  "My necessities. I come for food, shelter and friends."

  "It cannot be. The woods are full of game. The head of a warrior needsno other shelter than a sky without clouds; and the Delawares are theenemies, and not the friends, of the Yengeese. Go! the mouth has spoken,while the heart said nothing."

  Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed, remained silent;but the scout, who had listened attentively to all that passed, nowadvanced steadily to the front.

  "That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Carabine, was not owingeither to shame or fear," he said; "for neither one nor the other is thegift of an honest man. But I do not admit the right of the Mingos tobestow a name on one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, inthis particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'Killdeer' being agrooved barrel and no carabyne. I am the man, however, that got the nameof Nathaniel from my kin; the compliment of Hawkeye from the Delawares,who live on their own river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed tostyle the 'Long Rifle,' without any warranty from him who is mostconcerned in the matter."

  The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been gravely scanning theperson of Duncan, were now turned, on the instant, towards the uprightiron frame of this new pretender to the distinguished appellation. Itwas in no degree remarkable that there should be found two who werewilling to claim so great an honor, for impostors, though rare, were notunknown amongst the natives; but it was altogether material to the justand severe intentions of the Delawares, that there should be no mistakein the matter. Some of their old men consulted together in private, andthen, as it would seem, they determined to interrogate their visitor onthe subject.

  "My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said the chief toMagua; "which is he?"

  The Huron pointed to the scout.

  "Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a wolf?" exclaimed Duncan,still more confirmed in the evil intentions of his ancient enemy: "a dognever lies, but when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"

  The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but, suddenly recollecting the necessityof maintaining his presence of mind, he turned away in silent disdain,well assured that the sagacity of the Indians would not fail to extractthe real merits of the point in controversy. He was not deceived; for,after another short consultation, the wary Delaware turned to him again,and expressed the determination of the chiefs, though in the mostconsiderate language.

  "My brother has been called a liar," he said, "and his friends areangry. They will show that he has spoken the truth. Give my prisonersguns, and let them prove which is the man."

  Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he well knew proceededfrom distrust of himself, as a compliment, and made a gesture ofacquiescence, well content that his veracity should be supported by soskilful a marksman as the scout. The weapons were instantly placed inthe hands of the friendly opponents, and they were bid to fire over theheads of the seated multitude at an earthen vessel, which lay, byaccident, on a stump some fifty yards from the place where they stood.

  Heyward smiled to himself at the idea of a competition with the scout,though he determined to persevere in the deception, until apprised ofthe real designs of Magua. Raising his rifle with the utmost care, andrenewing his aim three several times, he fired. The bullet cut the woodwithin a few inches of the vessel; and a general exclamation ofsatisfaction announced that the shot was considered a proof of greatskill in the use of the weapon. Even Hawkeye nodded his head, as if hewould say, it was better than he had expected. But, instead ofmanifesting an intention to contend with the successful marksman, hestood leaning on his rifle for more than a minute, like a man who wascompletely buried in thought. From this reverie he was, however,awakened by one of the young Indians who had furnished the arms, and whonow touched his shoulder, saying, in exceedingly broken English,--

  "Can the pale-face beat it?"

  "Yes, Huron!" exclaimed the scout, raising the short rifle in his righthand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much apparent ease as if it werea reed; "yes, Huron, I could strike you now, and no power of earth couldprevent the deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove thanI am this moment of you, did I choose to send a bullet to your heart!Why should I not? Why!--because the gifts of my color forbid it, and Imight draw down evil on tender and innocent heads. If you know such abeing as God, thank Him, therefore, in your inward soul; for you havereason."

  The flushed countenance, angry eye, and swelling figure of the scout,produced a sensation of secret awe in all that heard him. The Delawaresheld their breath in expectation; but Magua himself, even while hedistrusted the forbearance of his enemy, remained immovable and calm,where he stood wedged in by the crowd, as one who grew to the spot.

  "Beat it," replied the young Delaware at the elbow of the scout.

  "Beat what, fool!--what!" exclaimed Hawkeye, still flourishing theweapon angrily above his head, though his eye no longer sought theperson of Magua.

  "If the white man is the warrior he pretends," said the aged chief, "lethim strike nigher to the mark."

  The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the startling effect ofan unnatural sound on Heyward; then dropping the piece heavily into hisextended left hand, it was discharged, apparently by the shock, drivingthe fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on everyside. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound of the rifle washeard, as he suffered it to fall, contemptuously, to the earth.

  The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing admiration.Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through the multitude, andfinally swelled into sounds that denoted a lively opposition in thesentiments of the spectators. While some openly testified theirsatisfaction at so unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion ofthe tribe were inclined to believe
the success of the shot was theresult of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an opinion that wasso favorable to his own pretentions.

  "It was chance!" he exclaimed; "none can shoot without an aim!"

  "Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now stubbornly bent onmaintaining his identity at every hazard, and on whom the secret hintsof Heyward to acquiesce in the deception were entirely lost. "Doesyonder lying Huron, too, think it chance? Give him another gun, andplace us face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence, andour own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not make the offer toyou, major; for our blood is of a color, and we serve the same master."

  "That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned Heyward, coolly;"you have yourself heard him assert you to be La Longue Carabine."

  It were impossible to say what violent assertion the stubborn Hawkeyewould have next made, in his headlong wish to vindicate his identity,had not the aged Delaware once more interposed.

  "The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he will," he said;"give them the guns."

  This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had Magua, thoughhe watched the movement of the marksman with jealous eyes, any furthercause for apprehension.

  "Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of Delawares, which isthe better man," cried the scout, tapping the butt of his piece withthat finger which had pulled so many fatal triggers. "You see the gourdhanging against yonder tree, major; if you are a marksman fit for theborders, let me see you break its shell!"

  Duncan noted the object, and prepared himself to renew the trial. Thegourd was one of the usual little vessels used by the Indians, and itwas suspended from a dead branch of a small pine, by a thong ofdeer-skin, at the full distance of a hundred yards. So strangelycompounded is the feeling of self-love, that the young soldier, while heknew the utter worthlessness of the suffrages of his savage umpires,forgot the sudden motives of the contest in a wish to excel. It has beenseen, already, that his skill was far from being contemptible, and henow resolved to put forth its nicest qualities. Had his life depended onthe issue, the aim of Duncan could not have been more deliberate orguarded. He fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang forwardat the report, announced with a shout, that the ball was in the tree, avery little on one side of the proper object. The warriors uttered acommon ejaculation of pleasure, and then turned their eyes inquiringlyon the movements of his rival.

  "It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing once morein his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my gun often turned somuch from the true line, many a marten, whose skin is now in a lady'smuff, would still be in the woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who hasdeparted to his final account, would be acting his deviltries at thisvery day, atween the provinces. I hope the squaw who owns the gourd hasmore of them in her wigwam, for this will never hold water again!"

  The scout had shook his priming, and cocked his piece, while speaking;and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, and slowly raised the muzzlefrom the earth: the motion was steady, uniform, and in one direction.When on a perfect level, it remained for a single moment, without tremoror variation, as though both man and rifle were carved in stone. Duringthat stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a bright,glancing sheet of flame. Again the young Indians bounded forward; buttheir hurried search and disappointed looks announced that no traces ofthe bullet were to be seen.

  "Go!" said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of strong disgust;"thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog. I will talk to the 'Long Rifle'of the Yengeese."

  "Ah! had I that piece which furnished the name you use, I would obligatemyself to cut the thong, and drop the gourd without breaking it!"returned Hawkeye, perfectly undisturbed by the other's manner, "Fools,if you would find the bullet of a sharpshooter of these woods, you mustlook in the object and not around it!"

  The Indian youths instantly comprehended his meaning--for this time hespoke in the Delaware tongue--and tearing the gourd from the tree, theyheld it on high with an exulting shout, displaying a hole in its bottom,which had been cut by the bullet, after passing through the usualorifice in the centre of its upper side. At this unexpected exhibition,a loud and vehement expression of pleasure burst from the mouth of everywarrior present. It decided the question, and effectually establishedHawkeye in the possession of his dangerous reputation. Those curious andadmiring eyes which had been turned again on Heyward, were finallydirected to the weather-beaten form of the scout, who immediately becamethe principal object of attention to the simple and unsophisticatedbeings by whom he was surrounded. When the sudden and noisy commotionhad a little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination.

  "Why did you wish to stop my ears?" he said, addressing Duncan; "arethe Delawares fools, that they could not know the young panther from thecat?"

  "They will yet find the Huron a singing-bird," said Duncan, endeavoringto adopt the figurative language of the natives.

  "It is good. We will know who can shut the ears of men. Brother," addedthe chief, turning his eyes on Magua, "the Delawares listen."

  Thus singled, and directly called on to declare his object, the Huronarose; and advancing with great deliberation and dignity into the verycentre of the circle, where he stood confronted to the prisoners, heplaced himself in an attitude to speak. Before opening his mouth,however, he bent his eyes slowly along the whole living boundary ofearnest faces as if to temper his expressions to the capacities of hisaudience. On Hawkeye he cast a glance of respectful enmity; on Duncan, alook of inextinguishable hatred; the shrinking figure of Alice hescarcely deigned to notice; but when his glance met the firm,commanding, and yet lovely form of Cora, his eye lingered a moment, withan expression that it might have been difficult to define. Then, filledwith his own dark intentions, he spoke in the language of the Canadas, atongue that he well knew was comprehended by most of his auditors.

  "The Spirit that made men colored them differently," commenced thesubtle Huron. "Some are blacker than the sluggish bear. These He saidwould be slaves; and He ordered them to work forever, like the beaver.You may hear them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than thelowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake, where the bigcanoes come and go with them in droves. Some He made with faces palerthan the ermine of the forests: and these He ordered to be traders; dogsto their women, and wolves to their slaves. He gave this people thenature of the pigeon: wings that never tire; young, more plentiful thanthe leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the earth. He gave themtongues like the false call of the wild-cat; hearts like rabbits; thecunning of the hog (but none of the fox), and arms longer than the legsof the moose. With his tongue, he stops the ears of the Indians; hisheart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles; his cunningtells him how to get together the goods of the earth; and his armsinclose the land from the shores of the salt-water to the islands of thegreat lake. His gluttony makes him sick. God gave him enough, and yethe wants all. Such are the pale-faces.

  "Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder than yondersun," continued Magua, pointing impressively upwards to the luridluminary, which was struggling through the misty atmosphere of thehorizon; "and these did He fashion to His own mind. He gave them thisisland as He had made it, covered with trees, and filled with game. Thewind made their clearings; the sun and rains ripened their fruits; andthe snows came to tell them to be thankful. What need had they of roadsto journey by! They saw through the hills. When the beavers worked, theylay in the shade, and looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; inwinter, skins kept them warm. If they fought among themselves, it was toprove that they were men. They were brave; they were just; they werehappy."

  Here the speaker paused, and again looked around him, to discover if hislegend had touched the sympathies of his listeners. He met everywherewith eyes riveted on his own, heads erect, and nostrils expanded, as ifeach individual present felt himself able and willing, singly, toredress the wrongs of his race.


  "If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red children," hecontinued, in a low, still, melancholy voice, "it was that all animalsmight understand them. Some He placed among the snows, with their cousinthe bear. Some he placed near the setting sun, on the road to the happyhunting-grounds. Some on the lands around the great fresh waters; but tohis greatest, and most beloved, He gave the sands of the salt lake. Domy brothers know the name of this favored people?"

  "It was the Lenape!" exclaimed twenty eager voices, in a breath.

  "It was the Lenni Lenape," returned Magua, affecting to bend his head inreverence to their former greatness. "It was the tribes of the Lenape!The sun rose from water that was salt, and set in water that was sweet,and never hid himself from their eyes. But why should I, a Huron of thewoods, tell a wise people their own traditions? Why remind them of theirinjuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their glory; theirhappiness,--their losses; their defeats; their misery? Is there not oneamong them who has seen it all, and who knows it to be true? I havedone. My tongue is still, for my heart is of lead. I listen."

  As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and all eyesturned, by a common movement, towards the venerable Tamenund. From themoment that he took his seat, until the present instant, the lips of thepatriarch had not severed, and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him.He sat bent in feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence hewas in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the skill ofthe scout had been so clearly established. At the nicely graduated soundof Magua's voice, however, he betrayed some evidence of consciousness,and once or twice he even raised his head, as if to listen. But when thecrafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the old manraised themselves, and he looked out upon the multitude with that sortof dull unmeaning expression which might be supposed to belong to thecountenance of a spectre. Then he made an effort to rise, and beingupheld by his supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding byits dignity, while he tottered with weakness.

  "Who calls upon the children of the Lenape!" he said, in a deep,guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by the breathlesssilence of the multitude: "who speaks of things gone! Does not the eggbecome a worm--the worm a fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares ofgood that is past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."

  "It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude platform onwhich the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."

  "A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown settled,imparting a portion of that severity which had rendered his eye soterrible in middle age. "Are the Mingos rulers of the earth? What bringsa Huron here?"

  "Justice. His prisoners are with his brothers, and he comes for hisown."

  Tamenund turned his head towards one of his supporters, and listened tothe short explanation the man gave. Then facing the applicant, heregarded him a moment with deep attention; after which he said, in a lowand reluctant voice,--

  "Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give the strangerfood. Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."

  On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patriarch seated himself,and closed his eyes again, as if better pleased with the images of hisown ripened experience than with the visible objects of the world.Against such a decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy tomurmur, much less oppose himself. The words were barely uttered whenfour or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind Heyward and thescout, passed thongs so dexterously and rapidly around their arms, as tohold them both in instant bondage. The former was too much engrossedwith his precious and nearly insensible burden, to be aware of theirintentions before they were executed; and the latter, who consideredeven the hostile tribes of the Delawares a superior race of beings,submitted without resistance. Perhaps, however, the manner of the scoutwould not have been so passive, had he fully comprehended the languagein which the preceding dialogue had been conducted.

  Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly before heproceeded to the execution of his purpose. Perceiving that the men wereunable to offer any resistance, he turned his looks on her he valuedmost. Cora met his gaze with an eye so calm and firm, that hisresolution wavered. Then recollecting his former artifice, he raisedAlice from the arms of the warrior against whom she leaned, andbeckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the encircling crowd toopen. But Cora, instead of obeying the impulse he had expected, rushedto the feet of the patriarch, and raising her voice, exclaimed aloud,--

  "Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and power we lean for mercy!Be deaf to yonder artful and remorseless monster, who poisons thy earswith falsehoods to feed his thirst for blood. Thou that hast lived long,and that hast seen the evil of the world, should know how to temper itscalamities to the miserable."

  The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once more looked upwardsat the multitude. As the piercing tones of the supplicant swelled on hisears, they moved slowly in the direction of her person, and finallysettled there in a steady gaze. Cora had cast herself to her knees; and,with hands clenched in each other and pressed upon her bosom, sheremained like a beauteous and breathing model of her sex, looking up inhis faded, but majestic countenance, with a species of holy reverence.Gradually the expression of Tamenund's features changed, and losingtheir vacancy in admiration, they lighted with a portion of thatintelligence which a century before had been wont to communicate hisyouthful fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares. Rising withoutassistance, and seemingly without an effort, he demanded, in a voicethat startled its auditors by its firmness,--

  "What art thou?"

  "A woman. One of a hated race, if thou wilt--a Yengee. But one who hasnever harmed thee, and who cannot harm thy people, if she would; whoasks for succor."

  "Tell me, my children," continued the patriarch, hoarsely, motioning tothose around him, though his eyes still dwelt upon the kneeling form ofCora, "where have the Delawares camped?"

  "In the mountains of the Iroquois, beyond the clear springs of theHorican."

  "Many parching summers are come and gone," continued the sage, "since Idrank of the water of my own rivers. The children of Minquon[26] are thejustest white men; but they were thirsty, and they took it tothemselves. Do they follow us so far?"

  "We follow none; we covet nothing," answered Cora. "Captives against ourwills, have we been brought among you; and we ask but permission todepart to our own in peace. Art thou not Tamenund--the father, thejudge, I had almost said, the prophet--of this people?"

  "I am Tamenund of many days."

  "'Tis now some seven years that one of thy people was at the mercy of awhite chief on the borders of this province. He claimed to be of theblood of the good and just Tamenund. 'Go,' said the white man, 'for thyparent's sake thou art free.' Dost thou remember the name of thatEnglish warrior?"

  "I remember, that when a laughing boy," returned the patriarch, with thepeculiar recollection of vast age, "I stood upon the sands of thesea-shore, and saw a big canoe, with wings whiter than the swan's, andwider than many eagles, come from the rising sun."

  "Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant, but of favor shown tothy kindred by one of mine, within the memory of thy youngest warrior."

  "Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchmanne fought for thehunting-grounds of the Delawares? Then Tamenund was a chief, and firstlaid aside the bow for the lightning of the pale faces--"

  _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

  THE SUPPLICANT

  _Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with hands clenched in eachother and pressed upon her bosom, she remained like a beauteous andbreathing model of her sex_]

  "Nor yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of a thing ofyesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not."

  "It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching pathos,"that the children of the Lenape were masters of the world. The fishesof the salt lake, the birds, the beasts, and the Mengwe of the woods,owned them for sagamores."
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  Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter moment,struggled with her chagrin. Then elevating her rich features and beamingeyes, she continued, in tones scarcely less penetrating than theunearthly voice of the patriarch himself,--

  "Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"

  The old man looked down upon her from his elevated stand, with abenignant smile on his wasted countenance, and then casting his eyesslowly over the whole assemblage, he answered,--

  "Of a nation."

  "For myself I ask nothing. Like thee and thine, venerable chief," shecontinued, pressing her hands convulsively on her heart, and sufferingher head to droop until her burning cheeks were nearly concealed in themaze of dark glossy tresses that fell in disorder upon her shoulders,"the curse of my ancestors has fallen heavily on their child. But yonderis one who has never known the weight of Heaven's displeasure until now.She is the daughter of an old and failing man, whose days are near theirclose. She has many, very many, to love her, and delight in her; and sheis too good, much too precious, to become the victim of that villain."

  "I know that the pale-faces are a proud and hungry race. I know thatthey claim not only to have the earth, but that the meanest of theircolor is better than the sachems of the redman. The dogs and crows oftheir tribes," continued the earnest old chieftain, without heeding thewounded spirit of his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to theearth in shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they wouldtake a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of the color of snow.But let them not boast before the face of the Manitou too loud. Theyentered the land at the rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun. Ihave often seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but theseason of blossoms has always come again."

  "It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving from atrance, raising her face, and shaking back her shining veil, with akindling eye, that contradicted the death-like paleness of hercountenance; "but why--it is not permitted us to inquire. There is yetone of thine own people who has not been brought before thee; beforethou lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."

  Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his companionssaid,--

  "It is a snake--a redskin in the pay of the Yengeese. We keep him forthe torture."

  "Let him come," returned the sage.

  Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so deepprevailed, while the young men prepared to obey his simple mandate, thatthe leaves, which fluttered in the draught of the light morning air,were distinctly heard rustling in the surrounding forest.