The Last of the Mohicans

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Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed accompaniment of
distant music, rising just high enough on the air to be audible, and
yet so indistinctly, as to leave its character, and the place whence it
proceeded, alike matters of conjecture. It was, however, succeeded by
another and another strain, each in a higher key, until they grew on the
ear, first in long drawn and often repeated interjections, and finally
in words. The lips of Chingachgook had so far parted, as to announce
that it was the monody of the father. Though not an eye was turned
toward him nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it was
apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated their heads to
listen, that they drank in the sounds with an intenseness of attention,
that none but Tamenund himself had ever before commanded. But
they listened in vain. The strains rose just so loud as to become
intelligible, and then grew fainter and more trembling, until they
finally sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of wind.
The lips of the Sagamore closed, and he remained silent in his seat,
looking with his riveted eye and motionless form, like some creature
that had been turned from the Almighty hand with the form but without
the spirit of a man. The Delawares who knew by these symptoms that
the mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an effort of
fortitude, relaxed in their attention; and, with an innate delicacy,
seemed to bestow all their thoughts on the obsequies of the stranger
maiden.

A signal was given, by one of the elder chiefs, to the women who crowded
that part of the circle near which the body of Cora lay. Obedient to
the sign, the girls raised the bier to the elevation of their heads,
and advanced with slow and regulated steps, chanting, as they proceeded,
another wailing song in praise of the deceased. Gamut, who had been a
close observer of rites he deemed so heathenish, now bent his head over
the shoulder of the unconscious father, whispering:

"They move with the remains of thy child; shall we not follow, and see
them interred with Christian burial?"

Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded in his ear, and
bestowing one anxious and hurried glance around him, he arose and
followed in the simple train, with the mien of a soldier, but bearing
the full burden of a parent's suffering. His friends pressed around him
with a sorrow that was too strong to be termed sympathy--even the young
Frenchman joining in the procession, with the air of a man who was
sensibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of one so lovely. But
when the last and humblest female of the tribe had joined in the wild
and yet ordered array, the men of the Lenape contracted their circle,
and formed again around the person of Uncas, as silent, as grave, and as
motionless as before.

The place which had been chosen for the grave of Cora was a little
knoll, where a cluster of young and healthful pines had taken root,
forming of themselves a melancholy and appropriate shade over the spot.
On reaching it the girls deposited their burden, and continued for many
minutes waiting, with characteristic patience, and native timidity, for
some evidence that they whose feelings were most concerned were content
with the arrangement. At length the scout, who alone understood their
habits, said, in their own language:

"My daughters have done well; the white men thank them."

Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls proceeded
to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously, and not inelegantly,
fabricated of the bark of the birch; after which they lowered it into
its dark and final abode. The ceremony of covering the remains, and
concealing the marks of the fresh earth, by leaves and other natural and
customary objects, was conducted with the same simple and silent forms.
But when the labors of the kind beings who had performed these sad and
friendly offices were so far completed, they hesitated, in a way to show
that they knew not how much further they might proceed. It was in this
stage of the rites that the scout again addressed them:

"My young women have done enough," he said: "the spirit of the pale
face has no need of food or raiment, their gifts being according to the
heaven of their color. I see," he added, glancing an eye at David, who
was preparing his book in a manner that indicated an intention to
lead the way in sacred song, "that one who better knows the Christian
fashions is about to speak."

The females stood modestly aside, and, from having been the principal
actors in the scene, they now became the meek and attentive observers of
that which followed. During the time David occupied in pouring out the
pious feelings of his spirit in this manner, not a sign of surprise, nor
a look of impatience, escaped them. They listened like those who knew
the meaning of the strange words, and appeared as if they felt the
mingled emotions of sorrow, hope, and resignation, they were intended to
convey.

Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and perhaps influenced by
his own secret emotions, the master of song exceeded his usual efforts.
His full rich voice was not found to suffer by a comparison with the
soft tones of the girls; and his more modulated strains possessed, at
least for the ears of those to whom they were peculiarly addressed,
the additional power of intelligence. He ended the anthem, as he had
commenced it, in the midst of a grave and solemn stillness.

When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the ears of his
auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the eyes, and the general
and yet subdued movement of the assemblage, betrayed that something was
expected from the father of the deceased. Munro seemed sensible that the
time was come for him to exert what is, perhaps, the greatest effort
of which human nature is capable. He bared his gray locks, and looked
around the timid and quiet throng by which he was encircled, with a firm
and collected countenance. Then, motioning with his hand for the scout
to listen, he said:

"Say to these kind and gentle females, that a heart-broken and failing
man returns them his thanks. Tell them, that the Being we all worship,
under different names, will be mindful of their charity; and that the
time shall not be distant when we may assemble around His throne without
distinction of sex, or rank, or color."

The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which the veteran delivered
these words, and shook his head slowly when they were ended, as one who
doubted their efficacy.

"To tell them this," he said, "would be to tell them that the snows come
not in the winter, or that the sun shines fiercest when the trees are
stripped of their leaves."

Then turning to the women, he made such a communication of the other's
gratitude as he deemed most suited to the capacities of his listeners.
The head of Munro had already sunk upon his chest, and he was again
fast relapsing into melancholy, when the young Frenchman before named
ventured to touch him lightly on the elbow. As soon as he had gained the
attention of the mourning old man, he pointed toward a group of young
Indians, who approached with a light but closely covered litter, and
then pointed upward toward the sun.

"I understand you, sir," returned Munro, with a voice of forced
firmness; "I understand you. It is the will of Heaven, and I submit.
Cora, my child! if the prayers of a heart-broken father could avail thee
now, how blessed shouldst thou be! Come, gentlemen," he added, looking
about him with an air of lofty composure, though the anguish that
quivered in his faded countenance was far too powerful to be concealed,
"our duty here is ended; let us depart."

Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them from a spot where, each
instant, he felt his self-control was about to desert him. While his
companions were mounting, however, he found time to press the hand of
the scout, and to repeat the terms of an engagement they had made to
meet again within the posts of the British army. Then, gladly throwing
himself into the saddle, he spurred his charger to the side of the
litter, whence low and stifled sobs alone announced the presence of
Alice. In this manner, the head of Munro again drooping on his bosom,
with Heyward and David following in sorrowing silence, and attended
by the aide of Montcalm with his guard, all the white men, with the
exception of Hawkeye, passed from before the eyes of the Delawares, and
were buried in the vast forests of that region.

But the tie which, through their common calamity, had united the
feelings of these simple dwellers in the woods with the strangers who
had thus transiently visited them, was not so easily broken. Years
passed away before the traditionary tale of the white maiden, and of
the young warrior of the Mohicans ceased to beguile the long nights and
tedious marches, or to animate their youthful and brave with a desire
for vengeance. Neither were the secondary actors in these momentous
incidents forgotten. Through the medium of the scout, who served for
years afterward as a link between them and civilized life, they learned,
in answer to their inquiries, that the "Gray Head" was speedily gathered
to his fathers--borne down, as was erroneously believed, by his military
misfortunes; and that the "Open Hand" had conveyed his surviving
daughter far into the settlements of the pale faces, where her tears
had at last ceased to flow, and had been succeeded by the bright smiles
which were better suited to her joyous nature.

But these were events of a time later than that which concerns our tale.
Deserted by all of his color, Hawkeye returned to the spot where his
sympathies led him, with a force that no ideal bond of union could
destroy. He was just in time to catch a parting look of the features of
Uncas, whom the Delawares were already inclosing in his last vestment
of skins. They paused to permit the longing and lingering gaze of the
sturdy woodsman, and when it was ended, the body was enveloped, never to
be unclosed again. Then came a procession like the other, and the whole
nation was collected about the temporary grave of the chief--temporary,
because it was proper that, at some future day, his bones should rest
among those of his own people.

The movement, like the feeling, had been simultaneous and general. The
same grave expression of grief, the same rigid silence, and the same
deference to the principal mourner, were observed around the place of
interment as have been already described. The body was deposited in an
attitude of repose, facing the rising sun, with the implements of war
and of the chase at hand, in readiness for the final journey. An opening
was left in the shell, by which it was protected from the soil, for the
spirit to communicate with its earthly tenement, when necessary; and the
whole was concealed from the instinct, and protected from the ravages
of the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to the natives. The
manual rites then ceased and all present reverted to the more spiritual
part of the ceremonies.

Chingachgook became once more the object of the common attention. He had
not yet spoken, and something consolatory and instructive was expected
from so renowned a chief on an occasion of such interest. Conscious of
the wishes of the people, the stern and self-restrained warrior raised
his face, which had latterly been buried in his robe, and looked about
him with a steady eye. His firmly compressed and expressive lips then
severed, and for the first time during the long ceremonies his voice was
distinctly audible. "Why do my brothers mourn?" he said, regarding the
dark race of dejected warriors by whom he was environed; "why do my
daughters weep? that a young man has gone to the happy hunting-grounds;
that a chief has filled his time with honor? He was good; he was
dutiful; he was brave. Who can deny it? The Manitou had need of such a
warrior, and He has called him away. As for me, the son and the father
of Uncas, I am a blazed pine, in a clearing of the pale faces. My
race has gone from the shores of the salt lake and the hills of the
Delawares. But who can say that the serpent of his tribe has forgotten
his wisdom? I am alone--"

"No, no," cried Hawkeye, who had been gazing with a yearning look at the
rigid features of his friend, with something like his own self-command,
but whose philosophy could endure no longer; "no, Sagamore, not alone.
The gifts of our colors may be different, but God has so placed us as to
journey in the same path. I have no kin, and I may also say, like you,
no people. He was your son, and a red-skin by nature; and it may be that
your blood was nearer--but, if ever I forget the lad who has so often
fou't at my side in war, and slept at my side in peace, may He who made
us all, whatever may be our color or our gifts, forget me! The boy has
left us for a time; but, Sagamore, you are not alone."

Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the warmth of feeling, the scout
had stretched across the fresh earth, and in an attitude of friendship
these two sturdy and intrepid woodsmen bowed their heads together, while
scalding tears fell to their feet, watering the grave of Uncas like
drops of falling rain.

In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst of feeling,
coming as it did, from the two most renowned warriors of that region,
was received, Tamenund lifted his voice to disperse the multitude.

"It is enough," he said. "Go, children of the Lenape, the anger of
the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay? The pale faces are
masters of the earth, and the time of the red men has not yet come
again. My day has been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis
happy and strong; and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to
see the last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans."