The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXX

  "If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no force in the decrees of Venice: I stand for judgment; answer, shall I have it?"

  _Merchant of Venice._

  The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many anxious minutes.Then the waving multitude opened and shut again, and Uncas stood in theliving circle. All those eyes, which had been curiously studying thelineaments of the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turnedon the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the erect,agile, and faultless person of the captive. But neither the presence inwhich he found himself, nor the exclusive attention that he attracted,in any manner disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican. Hecast a deliberate and observing look on every side of him, meeting thesettled expression of hostility that lowered in the visages of thechiefs, with the same calmness as the curious gaze of the attentivechildren. But when, last in his haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenundcame under his glance, his eye became fixed, as though all other objectswere already forgotten. Then advancing with a slow and noiseless step upthe area, he placed himself immediately before the footstool of thesage. Here he stood unnoted, though keenly observant himself, until oneof the chiefs apprised the latter of his presence.

  "With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?" demanded thepatriarch, without unclosing his eyes.

  "Like his fathers," Uncas replied; "with the tongue of a Delaware."

  At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, fierce yell ranthrough the multitude, that might not inaptly be compared to the growlof the lion, as his choler is first awakened--a fearful omen of theweight of his future anger. The effect was equally strong on the sage,though differently exhibited. He passed a hand before his eyes, as if toexclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle, while herepeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he had just heard.

  "A Delaware! I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape driven fromtheir council-fires, and scattered, like broken herds of deer, among thehills of the Iroquois! I have seen the hatchets of a strange peoplesweep woods from the valleys, that the winds of heaven had spared! Thebeasts that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above thetrees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never before have Ifound a Delaware so base as to creep, like a poisonous serpent, into thecamps of his nation."

  "The singing-birds have opened their bills," returned Uncas, in thesoftest notes of his own musical voice; "and Tamenund has heard theirsong."

  The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch the fleetingsounds of some passing melody.

  "Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed. "What voice is at his ear! Have thewinters gone backward! Will summer come again to the children of theLenape!"

  A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this incoherent burst from thelips of the Delaware prophet. His people steadily construed hisunintelligible language into one of those mysterious conferences he wasbelieved to hold so frequently with a superior intelligence, and theyawaited the issue of the revelation in awe. After a patient pause,however, one of the aged men, perceiving that the sage had lost therecollection of the subject before them, ventured to remind him again ofthe presence of the prisoner.

  "The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words of Tamenund,"he said. "'Tis a hound that howls, when the Yengeese show him a trail."

  "And ye," returned Uncas, looking sternly around him, "are dogs thatwhine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of his deer!"

  Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many warriors sprang to theirfeet, at this biting, and perhaps merited retort; but a motion from oneof the chiefs suppressed the outbreaking of their tempers, and restoredthe appearance of quiet. The task might probably have been moredifficult, had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he wasagain about to speak.

  "Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy name. Mypeople have not seen a bright sun in many winters; and the warrior whodeserts his tribe when hid in clouds is doubly a traitor. The law ofthe Manitou is just. It is so; while the rivers run and the mountainsstand, while the blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so. He isthine, my children; deal justly by him."

  Not a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder and longer thancommon, until the closing syllable of this final decree had passed thelips of Tamenund. Then a cry of vengeance burst at once, as it might be,from the united lips of the nation; a frightful augury of their ruthlessintentions. In the midst of these prolonged and savage yells, a chiefproclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive was condemned to endurethe dreadful trial of torture by fire. The circle broke its order, andscreams of delight mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation.Heyward struggled madly with his captors; the anxious eyes of Hawkeyebegan to look around him, with an expression of peculiar earnestness;and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the patriarch, once more asuppliant for mercy.

  Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas had alone preservedhis serenity. He looked on the preparations with a steady eye, and whenthe tormentors came to seize him, he met them with a firm and uprightattitude. One among them, if possible, more fierce and savage than hisfellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the young warrior, and at a singleeffort tore it from his body. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, heleaped towards his unresisting victim, and prepared to lead him to thestake. But, at that moment, when he appeared most a stranger to thefeelings of humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenlyas if a supernatural agency had interposed in the behalf of Uncas. Theeyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from their sockets; his mouthopened, and his whole form became frozen in an attitude of amazement.Raising his hand with a slow and regulated motion, he pointed with afinger to the bosom of the captive. His companions crowded about him inwonder, and every eye was, like his own, fastened intently on the figureof a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the breast of the prisoner,in a bright blue tint.

  For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling calmly on thescene. Then motioning the crowd away with a high and haughty sweep ofhis arm, he advanced in front of the nation with the air of a king, andspoke in a voice louder than the murmur of admiration that ran throughthe multitude.

  "Men of the Lenni Lenape!" he said, "my race upholds the earth! Yourfeeble tribe stands on my shell![27] What fire that a Delaware can lightwould burn the child of my fathers," he added, pointing proudly to thesimple blazonry on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stockwould smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of nations!"

  "Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling tones heheard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the language of theprisoner.

  "Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive modestly, turningfrom the nation, and bending his head in reverence to the other'scharacter and years; "a son of the great Unamis."

  "The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day is come, atlast, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that one is here to fill myplace at the council-fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas, is found! Let theeyes of a dying eagle gaze on the rising sun."

  The youth stepped lightly, but proudly, on the platform, where he becamevisible to the whole agitated and wondering multitude. Tamenund held himlong at the length of his arm, and read every turn in the finelineaments of his countenance, with the untiring gaze of one whorecalled days of happiness.

  "Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered prophet exclaimed. "Have Idreamt of so many snows--that my people were scattered like floatingsands--of Yengeese, more plenty than the leaves on the trees! The arrowof Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm is withered like thebranch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in the race; yet isUncas before him as they went to battle against the pale-faces! Uncas,the panther of his tribe, the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisestSagamore of the Mohicans! Tell me, ye Delawares, has Tamenund been asleeper for a hundred winters?"

  The calm and deep silence which succeed
ed these words, sufficientlyannounced the awful reverence with which his people received thecommunication of the patriarch. None dared to answer, though alllistened in breathless expectation of what might follow. Uncas, however,looking in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored child,presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to reply.

  "Four warriors of his race have lived, and died," he said, "since thefriend of Tamenund led his people in battle. The blood of the turtle hasbeen in many chiefs, but all have gone back into the earth from whencethey came except Chingachgook and his son."

  "It is true--it is true," returned the sage; a flash of recollectiondestroying all his pleasing fancies, and restoring him at once to aconsciousness of the true history of his nation. "Our wise men haveoften said that two warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills ofthe Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the Delawaresbeen so long empty?"

  At these words the young man raised his head, which he had still keptbowed a little, in reverence; and lifting his voice so as to be heard bythe multitude, as if to explain at once and forever the policy of hisfamily, he said aloud,--

  "Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in its anger.Then we were rulers and sagamores over the land. But when a pale-facewas seen on every brook, we followed the deer back to the river of ournation. The Delawares were gone. Few warriors of them all stayed todrink of the stream they loved. Then said my fathers, 'Here will wehunt. The waters of the river go into the salt lake. If we go towardsthe setting sun, we shall find streams that run into the great lakes ofsweet water; there would a Mohican die, like fishes of the sea, in theclear springs. When the Manitou is ready, and shall say "Come," we willfollow the river to the sea, and take our own again.' Such, Delawares,is the belief of the children of the Turtle. Our eyes are on the rising,and not towards the setting sun. We know whence he comes, but we knownot whither he goes. It is enough."

  The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all the respect thatsuperstition could lend, finding a secret charm even in the figurativelanguage with which the young Sagamore imparted his ideas. Uncas himselfwatched the effect of his brief explanation with intelligent eyes, andgradually dropped the air of authority he had assumed, as he perceivedthat his auditors were content. Then permitting his looks to wander overthe silent throng that crowded around the elevated seat of Tamenund, hefirst perceived Hawkeye in his bonds. Stepping eagerly from his stand,he made way for himself to the side of his friend; and cutting histhongs with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife, he motioned tothe crowd to divide. The Indians silently obeyed, and once more theystood ranged in their circle, as before his appearance among them. Uncastook the scout by the hand, and led him to the feet of the patriarch.

  "Father," he said, "look at this pale-face; a just man, and the friendof the Delawares."

  "Is he a son of Minquon?"

  "Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the Maquas."

  "What name has he gained by his deeds?"

  "We call him Hawkeye," Uncas replied, using the Delaware phrase; "forhis sight never fails. The Mingos know him better by the death he givestheir warriors; with them he is 'The Long Rifle.'"

  "La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes, andregarding the scout sternly. "My son has not done well to call himfriend."

  "I call him so who proves himself such," returned the young chief, withgreat calmness, but with a steady mien. "If Uncas is welcome among theDelawares, then is Hawkeye with his friends."

  "The pale-face has slain my young men; his name is great for the blowshe has struck the Lenape."

  "If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the Delaware, he hasonly shown that he is a singing-bird," said the scout, who now believedthat it was time to vindicate himself from such offensive charges, andwho spoke in the tongue of the man he addressed, modifying his Indianfigures, however, with his own peculiar notions. "That I have slain theMaquas I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-fires; butthat, knowingly, my hand has ever harmed a Delaware, is opposed to thereason of my gifts, which is friendly to them, and all that belongs totheir nation."

  A low exclamation of applause passed among the warriors, who exchangedlooks with each other like men that first began to perceive their error.

  "Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund. "Has he stopped my ears?"

  Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which Uncas had triumphed maybe much better imagined than described, answered to the call by steppingboldly in front of the patriarch.

  "The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron has lent."

  "Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding the darkcountenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the more ingenuousfeatures of Uncas, "has the stranger a conqueror's right over you?"

  "He has none. The panther may get into snares set by the women; but heis strong, and knows how to leap through them."

  "La Longue Carabine?"

  "Laughs at the Mingoes. Go, Huron, ask your squaws the color of a bear."

  "The stranger and the white maiden that came into my camp together?"

  "Should journey on an open path."

  "And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"

  Uncas made no reply.

  "And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp," repeatedTamenund, gravely.

  "She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at Uncas."Mohican, you know that she is mine."

  "My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the expression ofthe face that the youth turned from him in sorrow.

  "It is so," was the low answer.

  A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was veryapparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted the justice of theMingo's claim. At length the sage, in whom alone the decision depended,said, in a firm voice,--

  "Huron, depart."

  "As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily Magua; "or with handsfilled with the faith of the Delawares? The wigwam of Le Renard Subtilis empty. Make him strong with his own."

  The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then bending his headtowards one of his venerable companions, he asked,--

  "Are my ears open?"

  "It is true."

  "Is this Mingo a chief?"

  "The first in his nation."

  "Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to wife. Go! thyrace will not end."

  "Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the horror-struckCora, "than meet with such a degradation!"

  "Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An unwilling maidenmakes an unhappy wigwam."

  "She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua, regardinghis victim with a look of bitter irony. "She is of a race of traders,and will bargain for a bright look. Let Tamenund speak the words."

  "Take you the wampum, and our love."

  "Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."

  "Then depart with thine own. The great Manitou forbids that a Delawareshould be unjust."

  Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm; theDelawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if conscious thatremonstrance would be useless, prepared to submit to her fate withoutresistance.

  "Hold, hold!" cried Duncan, springing forward; "Huron, have mercy! herransom shall make thee richer than any of thy people were ever yet knownto be."

  "Magua is a redskin; he wants not the beads of the pale-faces."

  "Gold, silver, powder, lead--all that a warrior needs shall be in thywigwam; all that becomes the greatest chief."

  "Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking the handwhich grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has his revenge!"

  "Mighty ruler of providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping his handstogether in agony, "can this be suffered! To you, just Tamenund, Iappeal for mercy."

  "The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage, closing hiseyes, and dropping back into
his seat, alike wearied with his mental andhis bodily exertion. "Men speak not twice."

  "That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what had oncebeen spoken, is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye, motioning to Duncanto be silent; "but it is also prudent in every warrior to consider wellbefore he strikes his tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, Ilove you not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much favorat my hands. It is fair to conclude that, if this war does not soon end,many more of your warriors will meet me in the woods. Put it to yourjudgment, then, whether you would prefer taking such a prisoner as thatinto your encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it wouldgreatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."

  "Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?" demanded Magua,hesitatingly; for he had already made a motion towards quitting theplace with his victim.

  "No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye, drawingback with suitable discretion, when he noted the eagerness with whichMagua listened to his proposal. "It would be an unequal exchange, togive a warrior, in the prime of his age and usefulness, for the bestwoman on the frontiers. I might consent to go into winter-quarters,now--at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn--on condition youwill release the maiden."

  Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the crowd to open.

  "Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man who had nothalf made up his mind, "I will throw 'Killdeer' into the bargain. Takethe word of an experienced hunter, the piece has not its equal atweenthe provinces."

  Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to disperse thecrowd.

  "Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness, exactly inproportion as the other manifested an indifference to the exchange, "ifI should condition to teach your young men the real virtue of thewe'pon, it would smooth the little differences in our judgments."

  Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered in animpenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen to the amicableproposal, to open his path, threatening, by the glance of his eye,another appeal to the infallible justice of their "prophet."

  "What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued Hawkeye,turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas. "The varlet knows hisadvantage, and will keep it! God bless you, boy; you have found friendsamong your natural kin and I hope they will prove as true as some youhave met who had no Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I mustdie; it is therefore fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl.After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to master my scalp,so a day or two will make no great difference in the everlastingreckoning of time. God bless you," added the rugged woodsman, bendinghis head aside, and then instantly changing its direction again, with awistful look towards the youth; "I loved both you and your father,Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a color, and our gifts aresomewhat different. Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him in mygreatest trouble; and, as for you, think of me sometimes when on a luckytrail; and depend on it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, thereis a path in the other world by which honest men may come togetheragain. You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take it, and keepit for my sake; and harkee, lad, as your natural gifts don't deny youthe use of vengeance, use it a little freely on the Mingos; it mayunburden grief at my loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept youroffer; release the woman. I am your prisoner!"

  A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation, ran through thecrowd at this generous proposition; even the fiercest among the Delawarewarriors manifesting pleasure at the manliness of the intendedsacrifice. Magua paused, and for an anxious moment, it might be said, hedoubted; then casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in whichferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose became fixedforever.

  He intimated his contempt of the offer with a backward motion of hishead, and said, in a steady and settled voice,--

  "Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind. Come," headded, laying his hand too familiarly on the shoulder of his captive tourge her onward; "a Huron is no tattler; we will go."

  The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and her dark eye kindled,while the rich blood shot, like the passing brightness of the sun, intoher very temples, at the indignity.

  "I am your prisoner, and at a fitting time shall be ready to follow,even to my death. But violence is unnecessary," she coldly said; andimmediately turning to Hawkeye, added, "Generous hunter! from my soul Ithank you. Your offer is in vain, neither could it be accepted; butstill you may serve me, even more than in your own noble intention. Lookat that drooping, humbled child! Abandon her not until you leave her inthe habitation of civilized men. I will not say," wringing the hard handof the scout, "that her father will reward you--for such as you areabove the rewards of men--but he will thank you, and bless you. And,believe me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the sightof Heaven. Would to God, I could hear one from his lips at this awfulmoment!" Her voice became choked, and, for an instant, she was silent;then advancing a step nigher to Duncan, who was supporting herunconscious sister, she continued, in more subdued tones, but in whichfeeling and the habits of her sex maintained a fearful struggle,--"Ineed not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess. You loveher, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults, though she had them.She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as mortal may be. There is not ablemish in mind or person at which the proudest of you all would sicken.She is fair--O! how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, butless brilliant hand, in melancholy affection on the alabaster foreheadof Alice, and parting the golden hair which clustered about her brows;"and yet her soul is pure and spotless as her skin! I could saymuch--more, perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spareyou and myself"--Her voice became inaudible, and her face was bent overthe form of her sister. After a long and burning kiss, she arose, andwith features of the hue of death, but without even a tear in herfeverish eye, she turned away, and added, to the savage, with all herformer elevation of manner,--"Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I willfollow."

  "Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an Indian girl;"go, Magua, go. These Delawares have their laws, which forbid them todetain you; but I--I have no such obligation. Go, malignant monster--whydo you delay?"

  It would be difficult to describe the expression with which Magualistened to this threat to follow. There was at first a fierce andmanifest display of joy, and then it was instantly subdued in a look ofcunning coldness.

  "The woods are open," he was content with answering. "'The Open Hand'can come."

  "Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, and detaining him byviolence; "you know not the craft of the imp. He would lead you to anambushment, and your death--"

  "Huron," interrupted Uncas, who, submissive to the stern customs of hispeople, had been an attentive and grave listener to all that passed;"Huron, the justice of the Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at thesun. He is now in the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is shortand open. When he is seen above the trees, there will be men on yourtrail."

  "I hear a crow!" exclaimed Magua, with a taunting laugh. "Go!" he added,shaking his hand at the crowd, which had slowly opened to admit hispassage,--"Where are the petticoats of the Delawares! Let them sendtheir arrows and their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison toeat, and corn to hoe. Dogs, rabbits, thieves--I spit on you!"

  His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding silence, and, withthese biting words in his mouth, the triumphant Magua passed unmolestedinto the forest, followed by his passive captive, and protected by theinviolable laws of Indian hospitality.