The Last of the Mohicans

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So soon as the first hum of emotion and pleasure, which the sudden
appearance of this venerated individual created, had a little subsided,
the name of "Tamenund" was whispered from mouth to mouth. Magua had
often heard the fame of this wise and just Delaware; a reputation that
even proceeded so far as to bestow on him the rare gift of holding
secret communion with the Great Spirit, and which has since transmitted
his name, with some slight alteration, to the white usurpers of his
ancient territory, as the imaginary tutelar saint* of a vast empire. The
Huron chief, therefore, stepped eagerly out a little from the throng,
to a spot whence he might catch a nearer glimpse of the features of the
man, whose decision was likely to produce so deep an influence on his
own fortunes.

* The Americans sometimes called their tutelar saint
Tamenay, a corruption of the name of the renowned chief here
introduced. There are many traditions which speak of the
character and power of Tamenund.

The eyes of the old man were closed, as though the organs were wearied
with having so long witnessed the selfish workings of the human
passions. The color of his skin differed from that of most around him,
being richer and darker, the latter having been produced by certain
delicate and mazy lines of complicated and yet beautiful figures, which
had been traced over most of his person by the operation of tattooing.
Notwithstanding the position of the Huron, he passed the observant and
silent Magua without notice, and leaning on his two venerable supporters
proceeded to the high place of the multitude, where he seated himself in
the center of his nation, with the dignity of a monarch and the air of a
father.

Nothing could surpass the reverence and affection with which this
unexpected visit from one who belongs rather to another world than to
this, was received by his people. After a suitable and decent pause, the
principal chiefs arose, and, approaching the patriarch, they placed
his hands reverently on their heads, seeming to entreat a blessing. The
younger men were content with touching his robe, or even drawing nigh
his person, in order to breathe in the atmosphere of one so aged, so
just, and so valiant. None but the most distinguished among the youthful
warriors even presumed so far as to perform the latter ceremony, the
great mass of the multitude deeming it a sufficient happiness to look
upon a form so deeply venerated, and so well beloved. When these acts
of affection and respect were performed, the chiefs drew back again to
their several places, and silence reigned in the whole encampment.

After a short delay, a few of the young men, to whom instructions had
been whispered by one of the aged attendants of Tamenund, arose, left
the crowd, and entered the lodge which has already been noted as the
object of so much attention throughout that morning. In a few minutes
they reappeared, escorting the individuals who had caused all these
solemn preparations toward the seat of judgment. The crowd opened in a
lane; and when the party had re-entered, it closed in again, forming a
large and dense belt of human bodies, arranged in an open circle.




CHAPTER 29

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

Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms in those of
Alice, in the tenderness of sisterly love. Notwithstanding the fearful
and menacing array of savages on every side of her, no apprehension on
her own account could prevent the nobler-minded maiden from keeping her
eyes fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling Alice.
Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest in both, that, at
such a moment of intense uncertainty, scarcely knew a preponderance in
favor of her whom he most loved. Hawkeye had placed himself a little in
the rear, with a deference to the superior rank of his companions, that
no similarity in the state of their present fortunes could induce him to
forget. 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 the
patriarch 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 his
eyes around the dark and silent assembly, and recoiled a pace, when they
fell on the malignant visage of Magua. He saw, at once, that this wily
savage had some secret agency in their present arraignment before the
nation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in the way of
the execution of his sinister plans. He had witnessed one instance
of the summary punishments of the Indians, and now dreaded that his
companion was to be selected for a second. In this dilemma, with
little or no time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak his
invaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself. Before he had
time, 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 in yonder
woods. Our deeds shall speak for us!"

"This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!" returned the
chief, regarding Heyward with that sort of curious interest which seems
inseparable from man, when first beholding one of his fellows to whom
merit or accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. "What has
brought 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 needs
no other shelter than a sky without clouds; and the Delawares are the
enemies, 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, now
advanced steadily to the front.

"That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Carabine, was not owing
either to shame or fear," he said, "for neither one nor the other is the
gift of an honest man. But I do not admit the right of the Mingoes to
bestow a name on one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, in
this particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'killdeer' being a
grooved barrel and no carabyne. I am the man, however, that got the name
of Nathaniel from my kin; the compliment of Hawkeye from the Delawares,
who live on their own river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed to
style the 'Long Rifle', without any warranty from him who is most
concerned in the matter."

The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been gravely scanning the
person of Duncan, were now turned, on the instant, toward the upright
iron frame of this new pretender to the distinguished appellation. It
was in no degree remarkable that there should be found two who were
willing to claim so great an honor, for impostors, though rare, were not
unknown among the natives; but it was altogether material to the just
and severe intentions of the Delawares, that there should be no mistake
in the matter. Some of their old men consulted together in private, and
then, as it would seem, they determined to interrogate their visitor on
the subject.

"My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said the chief to
Magua; "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 dog
never lies, but when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"

The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but suddenly recollecting the necessity
of maintaining his presence of mind, he turned away in silent disdain,
well assured that the sagacity of the Indians would not fail to extract
the 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 most
considerate language.

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

Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he well knew proceeded
from distrust of himself, as a compliment, and made a gesture of
acquiescence, well content that his veracity should be supported by so
skillful a marksman as the scout. The weapons were instantly placed in
the hands of the friendly opponents, and they were bid to fire, over
the heads of the seated multitude, at an earthen vessel, which lay, by
accident, 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 of
the real designs of Magua.

Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and renewing his aim three
several times, he fired. The bullet cut the wood within a few inches of
the vessel; and a general exclamation of satisfaction announced that the
shot was considered a proof of great skill in the use of a weapon.
Even Hawkeye nodded his head, as if he would say, it was better than he
expected. But, instead of manifesting an intention to contend with
the successful marksman, he stood leaning on his rifle for more than
a minute, like a man who was completely buried in thought. From this
reverie, he was, however, awakened by one of the young Indians who
had furnished the arms, and who now 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 right
hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much apparent ease as if it were
a reed; "yes, Huron, I could strike you now, and no power on earth could
prevent the deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove than
I 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 I
might draw down evil on tender and innocent heads. If you know such a
being as God, thank Him, therefore, in your inward soul; for you have
reason!"

The flushed countenance, angry eye and swelling figure of the scout,
produced a sensation of secret awe in all that heard him. The Delawares
held their breath in expectation; but Magua himself, even while he
distrusted 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," repeated the young Delaware at the elbow of the scout.

"Beat what, fool!--what?" exclaimed Hawkeye, still flourishing the
weapon angrily above his head, though his eye no longer sought the
person of Magua.

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

The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the startling effect of
an unnatural sound on Heyward; then dropping the piece, heavily, into
his extended left hand, it was discharged, apparently by the shock,
driving the fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on
every side. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound of the rifle
was heard, 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, and
finally swelled into sounds that denoted a lively opposition in
the sentiments of the spectators. While some openly testified their
satisfaction at so unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion
of the tribe were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the
result of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an opinion that was
so favorable to his own pretensions.

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

"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now stubbornly bent on
maintaining his identity at every hazard, and on whom the secret hints
of Heyward to acquiesce in the deception were entirely lost. "Does
yonder lying Huron, too, think it chance? Give him another gun, and
place us face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence, and
our own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not make the offer, to
you, 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 Hawkeye
would 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, though
he watched the movements of the marksman with jealous eyes, any further
cause for apprehension.

"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of Delawares, which
is the better man," cried the scout, tapping the butt of his piece with
that finger which had pulled so many fatal triggers.

"You see that gourd hanging against yonder tree, major; if you are a
marksman fit for the borders, let me see you break its shell!"

Duncan noted the object, and prepared himself to renew the trial. The
gourd was one of the usual little vessels used by the Indians, and
it was suspended from a dead branch of a small pine, by a thong
of deerskin, at the full distance of a hundred yards. So strangely
compounded is the feeling of self-love, that the young soldier, while
he knew the utter worthlessness of the suffrages of his savage umpires,
forgot the sudden motives of the contest in a wish to excel. It had been
seen, already, that his skill was far from being contemptible, and he
now resolved to put forth its nicest qualities. Had his life depended
on the issue, the aim of Duncan could not have been more deliberate or
guarded. He fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang forward
at the report, announced with a shout, that the ball was in the tree,
a very little on one side of the proper object. The warriors uttered a
common ejaculation of pleasure, and then turned their eyes, inquiringly,
on the movements of his rival.

"It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing once more in
his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my gun often turned so much
from the true line, many a marten, whose skin is now in a lady's muff,
would still be in the woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who has
departed to his final account, would be acting his deviltries at this
very day, atween the provinces. I hope the squaw who owns the gourd has
more 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 muzzle
from the earth: the motion was steady, uniform, and in one direction.
When on a perfect level, it remained for a single moment, without tremor
or variation, as though both man and rifle were carved in stone. During
that stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a bright,
glancing sheet of flame. Again the young Indians bounded forward; but
their hurried search and disappointed looks announced that no traces of
the 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 obligate
myself 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 in these woods, you must
look in the object, and not around it!"

The Indian youths instantly comprehended his meaning--for this time he
spoke in the Delaware tongue--and tearing the gourd from the tree, they
held it on high with an exulting shout, displaying a hole in its bottom,
which had been cut by the bullet, after passing through the usual
orifice in the center of its upper side. At this unexpected exhibition,
a loud and vehement expression of pleasure burst from the mouth of every
warrior present. It decided the question, and effectually established
Hawkeye in the possession of his dangerous reputation. Those curious
and admiring eyes which had been turned again on Heyward, were finally
directed to the weather-beaten form of the scout, who immediately became
the principal object of attention to the simple and unsophisticated
beings by whom he was surrounded. When the sudden and noisy commotion
had a little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination.

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

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

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

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

"The Spirit that made men colored them differently," commenced the
subtle Huron. "Some are blacker than the sluggish bear. These He said
should be slaves; and He ordered them to work forever, like the beaver.
You may hear them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than the
lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake, where the big
canoes come and go with them in droves. Some He made with faces paler
than the ermine of the forests; and these He ordered to be traders;
dogs to their women, and wolves to their slaves. He gave this people the
nature of the pigeon; wings that never tire; young, more plentiful than
the leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the earth. He gave them
tongues like the false call of the wildcat; hearts like rabbits; the
cunning of the hog (but none of the fox), and arms longer than the legs
of the moose. With his tongue he stops the ears of the Indians; his
heart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles; his cunning
tells him how to get together the goods of the earth; and his arms
inclose the land from the shores of the salt-water to the islands of the
great lake. His gluttony makes him sick. God gave him enough, and yet he
wants all. Such are the pale faces.

"Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder than yonder
sun," continued Magua, pointing impressively upward to the lurid
luminary, which was struggling through the misty atmosphere of the
horizon; "and these did He fashion to His own mind. He gave them this
island as He had made it, covered with trees, and filled with game. The
wind made their clearings; the sun and rain ripened their fruits; and
the snows came to tell them to be thankful. What need had they of roads
to journey by! They saw through the hills! When the beavers worked, they
lay in the shade, and looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; in
winter, skins kept them warm. If they fought among themselves, it was
to prove that they were men. They were brave; they were just; they were
happy."

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

"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red children," he
continued, in a low, still melancholy voice, "it was that all animals
might understand them. Some He placed among the snows, with their
cousin, the bear. Some he placed near the setting sun, on the road to
the happy hunting grounds. Some on the lands around the great fresh
waters; but to His greatest, and most beloved, He gave the sands of the
salt lake. Do my 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 in
reverence 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 the
woods, tell a wise people their own traditions? Why remind them of
their injuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their glory; their
happiness; their losses; their defeats; their misery? Is there not one
among them who has seen it all, and who knows it to be true? I have
done. My tongue is still for my heart is of lead. I listen."

As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and all eyes
turned, by a common movement, toward the venerable Tamenund. From the
moment that he took his seat, until the present instant, the lips of the
patriarch had not severed, and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him.
He sat bent in feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence
he was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the skill of
the scout had been so clearly established. At the nicely graduated sound
of 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
the crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the old man
raised themselves, and he looked out upon the multitude with that sort
of dull, unmeaning expression which might be supposed to belong to the
countenance of a specter. Then he made an effort to rise, and being
upheld by his supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by
its 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 breathless
silence of the multitude; "who speaks of things gone? Does not the egg
become a worm--the worm a fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares of
good that is past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."

"It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude platform on
which 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 so
terrible in middle age. "Are the Mingoes rulers of the earth? What
brings a Huron in here?"

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

Tamenund turned his head toward one of his supporters, and listened to
the short explanation the man gave.

Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a moment with deep
attention; after which he said, in a low and reluctant voice:

"Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give the stranger
food. 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
his own ripened experience than with the visible objects of the world.
Against such a decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy to
murmur, much less oppose himself. The words were barely uttered when
four or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind Heyward and the
scout, passed thongs so dexterously and rapidly around their arms, as
to hold them both in instant bondage. The former was too much engrossed
with his precious and nearly insensible burden, to be aware of their
intentions before they were executed; and the latter, who considered
even the hostile tribes of the Delawares a superior race of beings,
submitted without resistance. Perhaps, however, the manner of the scout
would not have been so passive, had he fully comprehended the language
in which the preceding dialogue had been conducted.

Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole assembly before he
proceeded to the execution of his purpose. Perceiving that the men were
unable to offer any resistance, he turned his looks on her he valued
most. Cora met his gaze with an eye so calm and firm, that his
resolution wavered. Then, recollecting his former artifice, he raised
Alice from the arms of the warrior against whom she leaned, and
beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the encircling crowd to
open. But Cora, instead of obeying the impulse he had expected, rushed
to the feet of the patriarch, and, raising her voice, exclaimed aloud: