prompt:
Chapter: "They fought, like brave men, long and well,
    They piled that ground with Moslem slain,
  They conquered--but Bozzaris fell,
    Bleeding at every vein.
  His few surviving comrades saw
  His smile when rang their proud hurrah,
    And the red field was won;
  Then saw in death his eyelids close
  Calmly, as to a night's repose,
  Like flowers at set of sun."

  HALLECK.

The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding day, a nation of mourners.
The sounds of the battle were over, and they had fed fat their ancient
grudge, and had avenged their recent quarrel with the Mengwe, by the
destruction of a whole community. The black and murky atmosphere that
floated around the spot where the Hurons had encamped, sufficiently
announced, of itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while hundreds
of ravens, that struggled above the bleak summits of the mountains, or
swept, in noisy flocks, across the wide ranges of the woods, furnished a
frightful direction to the scene of the combat. In short, any eye, at
all practised in the signs of a frontier warfare, might easily have
traced all those unerring evidences of the ruthless results which attend
an Indian vengeance.

Still, the sun rose on the Lenape a nation of mourners. No shouts of
success, no songs of triumph, were heard, in rejoicings for their
victory. The latest straggler had returned from his fell employment,
only to strip himself of the terrific emblems of his bloody calling, and
to join in the lamentations of his countrymen, as a stricken people.
Pride and exultation were supplanted by humility, and the fiercest of
human passions was already succeeded by the most profound and
unequivocal demonstrations of grief.

The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest faces encircled a
spot in their vicinity, whither everything possessing life had repaired,
and where all were now collected, in deep and awful silence. Though
beings of every rank and age, of both sexes, and of all pursuits, had
united to form this breathing wall of bodies, they were influenced by a
single emotion. Each eye was riveted on the centre of that ring, which
contained the objects of so much, and of so common, an interest.

Six Delaware girls, with their long, dark, flowing tresses falling
loosely across their bosoms, stood apart, and only gave proofs of their
existence as they occasionally strewed sweet-scented herbs and forest
flowers on a litter of fragrant plants, that, under a pall of Indian
robes, supported all that now remained of the ardent, high-souled, and
generous Cora. Her form was concealed in many wrappers of the same
simple manufacture, and her face was shut forever from the gaze of men.
At her feet was seated the desolate Munro. His aged head was bowed
nearly to the earth, in compelled submission to the stroke of
Providence; but a hidden anguish struggled about his furrowed brow, that
was only partially concealed by the careless locks of gray that had
fallen, neglected, on his temples. Gamut stood at his side, his meek
head bared to the rays of the sun, while his eyes, wandering and
concerned, seemed to be equally divided between that little volume,
which contained so many quaint but holy maxims, and the being in whose
behalf his soul yearned to administer consolation. Heyward was also
nigh, supporting himself against a tree, and endeavoring to keep down
those sudden risings of sorrow that it required his utmost manhood to
subdue.

But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be imagined, it was far
less touching than another, that occupied the opposite space of the same
area. Seated, as in life, with his form and limbs arranged in grave and
decent composure, Uncas appeared, arrayed in the most gorgeous ornaments
that the wealth of the tribe could furnish. Rich plumes nodded above his
head; wampum, gorgets, bracelets, and medals, adorned his person in
profusion; though his dull eye and vacant lineaments too strongly
contradicted the idle tale of pride they would convey.

Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was placed, without arms,
paint, or adornment of any sort, except the bright blue blazonry of his
race, that was indelibly impressed on his naked bosom. During the long
period that the tribe had been thus collected, the Mohican warrior had
kept a steady, anxious look on the cold and senseless countenance of his
son. So riveted and intense had been that gaze, and so changeless his
attitude, that a stranger might not have told the living from the dead,
but for the occasional gleamings of a troubled spirit that shot athwart
the dark visage of one, and the death-like calm that had forever settled
on the lineaments of the other.

The scout was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal and
avenging weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders of his nation,
occupied a high place at hand, whence he might look down on the mute and
sorrowful assemblage of his people.

Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a soldier, in the
military attire of a strange nation; and without it was his war-horse,
in the centre of a collection of mounted domestics, seemingly in
readiness to undertake some distant journey. The vestments of the
stranger announced him to be one who held a responsible situation near
the person of the captain of the Canadas; and who, as it would now seem,
finding his errand of peace frustrated by the fierce impetuosity of his
allies, was content to become a silent and sad spectator of the fruits
of a contest that he had arrived too late to anticipate.

The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, and yet had the
multitude maintained its breathing stillness since its dawn. No sound
louder than a stifled sob had been heard among them, nor had even a limb
been moved throughout that long and painful period, except to perform
the simple and touching offerings that were made, from time to time, in
commemoration of the dead. The patience and forbearance of Indian
fortitude could alone support such an appearance of abstraction, as
seemed now to have turned each dark and motionless figure into stone.

At length, the sage of the Delawares stretched forth an arm, and leaning
on the shoulders of his attendants, he arose with an air as feeble as if
another age had already intervened between the man who had met his
nation the preceding day, and him who now tottered on his elevated
stand.

"Men of the Lenape!" he said, in hollow tones that sounded like a voice
charged with some prophetic mission; "the face of the Manitou is behind
a cloud! His eye is turned from you; His ears are shut; His tongue gives
no answer. You see Him not; yet His judgments are before you. Let your
hearts be open and your spirits tell no lie. Men of the Lenape! the face
of the Manitou is behind a cloud."

As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on the ears of the
multitude, a stillness as deep and awful succeeded as if the venerated
spirit they worshipped had uttered the words without the aid of human
organs; and even the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, compared
with the humbled and submissive throng by whom he was surrounded. As the
immediate effect, however, gradually passed away, a low murmur of voices
commenced a sort of chant in honor of the dead. The sounds were those of
females, and were thrillingly soft and wailing. The words were connected
by no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took up the
eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called, and gave vent to
her emotions in such language as was suggested by her feelings and the
occasion. At intervals the speaker was interrupted by general and loud
bursts of sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of Cora plucked
the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if bewildered with
grief. But, in the milder moments of their plaint, these emblems of
purity and sweetness were cast back to their places, with every sign of
tenderness and regret. Though rendered less connected by many and
general interruptions and outbreakings, a translation of their language
would have contained a regular descant, which, in substance, might have
proved to possess a train of consecutive ideas.

A girl, selected for the task by her rank and qualifications, commenced
by modest allusions to the qualities of the deceased warrior,
embellishing her expressions with those oriental images that the Indians
have probably brought with them from the extremes of the other
continent, and which form of themselves a link to connect the ancient
histories of the two worlds. She called him the "panther of his tribe";
and described him as one whose moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose
bound was like the leap of the young fawn; whose eye was brighter than a
star in the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the
thunder of the Manitou. She reminded him of the mother who bore him, and
dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel in possessing such a son.
She bade him tell her, when they met in the world of spirits, that the
Delaware girls had shed tears above the grave of her child, and had
called her blessed.

Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder and still
more tender strain, alluded, with the delicacy and sensitiveness of
woman, to the stranger maiden, who had left the upper earth at a time so
near his own departure, as to render the will of the Great Spirit too
manifest to be disregarded. They admonished him to be kind to her, and
to have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which were so
necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself. They dwelt upon her
matchless beauty, and on her noble resolution, without the taint of
envy, and as angels may be thought to delight in a superior excellence;
adding, that these endowments should prove more than equivalent for any
little imperfections in her education.

After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the maiden
herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and love. They exhorted
her to be of cheerful mind, and to fear nothing for future welfare. A
hunter would be her companion, who knew how to provide for her smallest
wants; and a warrior was at her side who was able to protect her against
every danger. They promised that her path should be pleasant, and her
burden light. They cautioned her against unavailing regrets for the
friends of her youth, and the scenes where her fathers had dwelt;
assuring her that the "blessed hunting-grounds of the Lenape" contained
vales as pleasant, streams as pure, and flowers as sweet, as the "heaven
of the pale-faces." They advised her to be attentive to the wants of her
companion, and never to forget the distinction which the Manitou had so
wisely established between them. Then, in a wild burst of their chant,
they sang with united voices the temper of the Mohican's mind. They
pronounced him noble, manly and generous; all that became a warrior, and
all that a maid might love. Clothing their ideas in the most remote and
subtle images, they betrayed, that, in the short period of their
intercourse, they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their
sex, the truant disposition of his inclinations. The Delaware girls had
found no favor in his eyes! He was of a race that had once been lords on
the shores of the salt lake, and his wishes had led him back to a people
who dwelt about the graves of his fathers. Why should not such a
predilection be encouraged! That she was of a blood purer and richer
than the rest of her nation, any eye might have seen; that she was equal
to the dangers and daring of a life in the woods, her conduct had
proved; and now, they added, the "wise one of the earth" had
transplanted her to a place where she would find congenial spirits, and
might be forever happy.

Then, with another transition in voice and subject, allusions were made
to the virgin who wept in the adjacent lodge. They compared her to
flakes of snow; as pure, as white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt
in the fierce heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of winter. They
doubted not that she was lovely in the eyes of the young chief, whose
skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own; but, though far from
expressing such a preference, it was evident they deemed her less
excellent than the maid they mourned. Still they denied her no meed her
rare charms might properly claim. Her ringlets were compared to the
exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of the
heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing flush of the sun,
was admitted to be less attractive than her bloom.

During these and similar songs nothing was audible but the murmurs of
the music; relieved, as it was, or rather rendered terrible, by those
occasional bursts of grief which might be called its choruses. The
Delawares themselves listened like charmed men; and it was very
apparent, by the variations of their speaking countenances, how deep and
true was their sympathy. Even David was not reluctant to lend his ears
to tones of voices so sweet; and long ere the chant was ended, his gaze
announced that his soul was enthralled.

The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the words were
intelligible, suffered himself to be a little aroused from his
meditative posture, and bent his face aside, to catch their meaning, as
the girls proceeded. But when they spoke of the future prospects of Cora
and Uncas, he shook his head, like one who knew the error of their
simple creed, and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it
until the ceremony--if that might be called a ceremony, in which feeling
was so deeply imbued--was finished. Happily for the self-command of both
Heyward and Munro, they knew not the meaning of the wild sounds they
heard.

Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest manifested by the
native part of the audience. His look never changed throughout the whole
of the scene, nor did a muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at
the wildest or the most pathetic parts of the lamentation. The cold and
senseless remains of his son was all to him, and every other sense but
that of sight seemed frozen, in order that his eyes might take their
final gaze at those lineaments he had so long loved, and which were now
about to be closed forever from his view.

In this stage of the funeral obsequies, a warrior much renowned for
deeds in arms, and more especially for services in the recent combat, a
man of stern and grave demeanor, advanced slowly from the crowd, and
placed himself nigh the person of the dead.

"Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki?" he said, addressing
himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the empty clay retained the
faculties of the animated man; "thy time has been like that of the sun
when in the trees; thy glory brighter than his light at noonday. Thou
art gone, youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the
briers from thy path to the world of spirits. Who that saw thee in
battle would believe that thou couldst die? Who before thee has ever
shown Uttawa the way into the fight? Thy feet were like the wings of
eagles; thine arm heavier than falling branches from the pine; and thy
voice like the Manitou when he speaks in the clouds. The tongue of
Uttawa is weak," he added, looking about him with a melancholy gaze,
"and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the Wapanachki, why hast thou
left us?"

He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the high and
gifted men of the nation had sung or spoken their tribute of praise over
the _manes_ of the deceased chief. When each had ended, another deep and
breathing silence reigned in all the place.

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
towards 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 a 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 was 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 heartbroken 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 towards a group of young
Indians, who approached with a light but closely covered litter, and
then pointed upward towards 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 heartbroken 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 dropping 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 soon 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 afterwards 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 own
sympathies led him, with a force that no ideal bond of union could
bestow. He was just in time to catch a parting look of the features of
Uncas, whom the Delawares were already inclosing in his last vestments
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 redskin 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 that 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 redmen 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."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] As each nation of the Indians had either its language or its
dialect, they usually gave different names to the same places, though
nearly all of their appellations were descriptive of the object. Thus, a
literal translation of the name of this beautiful sheet of water, used
by the tribe that dwelt on its banks would be "The Tail of the Lake."
Lake George, as it is vulgarly, and now indeed legally called, forms a
sort of tail to Lake Champlain, when viewed on the map. Hence the name.

[2] Washington: who, after uselessly admonishing the European general of
the danger into which he was heedlessly running, saved the remnants of
the British army, on this occasion, by his decision and courage. The
reputation earned by Washington in this battle was the principal cause
of his being selected to command the American armies at a later day. It
is a circumstance worthy of observation, that, while all America rang
with his well-merited reputation, his name does not occur in any
European account of the battle; at least, the author has searched for it
without success. In this manner does the mother country absorb even the
fame, under that system of rule.

[3] There existed for a long time a confederation among the Indian
tribes which occupied the northwestern part of the colony of New York,
which was at first known as the "Five Nations." At a later day it
admitted another tribe, when the appellation was changed to that of the
"Six Nations." The original confederation consisted of the Mohawks, the
Oneidas, the Senecas, the Cayugas, and the Onondagas. The sixth tribe
was the Tuscaroras. There are remnants of all these people still living
on lands secured to them by the State; but they are daily disappearing,
either by deaths or by removals to scenes more congenial to their
habits. In a short time there will be no remains of these extraordinary
people, in those regions in which they dwelt for centuries, but their
names. The State of New York has counties named after all of them but
the Mohawks and the Tuscaroras. The second river of that State is called
the Mohawk.

[4] In the State of Rhode Island there is a bay called Narragansett, so
named after a powerful tribe of Indians, which formerly dwelt on its
banks. Accident, or one of those unaccountable freaks which nature
sometimes plays in the animal world, gave rise to a breed of horses
which were once well known in America by the name of the Narragansetts.
They were small, commonly of the color called sorrel in America, and
distinguished by their habit of pacing. Horses of this race were, and
are still, in much request as saddle-horses, on account of their
hardiness and the ease of their movements. As they were also sure of
foot, the Narragansetts were greatly sought for by females who were
obliged to travel over the roots and holes in the "new countries."

[5] The North American warrior caused the hair to be plucked from his
whole body; a small tuft, only, was left on the crown of his head in
order that his enemy might avail himself of it, in wrenching off the
scalp in the event of his fall. The scalp was the only admissible trophy
of victory. Thus, it was deemed more important to obtain the scalp than
to kill the man. Some tribes lay great stress on the honor of striking a
dead body. These practices have nearly disappeared among the Indians of
the Atlantic States.

[6] The hunting-shirt is a picturesque smock frock, being shorter, and
ornamented with fringes and tassels. The colors are intended to imitate
the hues of the wood with a view to concealment. Many corps of American
riflemen have been thus attired; and the dress is one of the most
striking of modern times. The hunting-shirt is frequently white.

[7] The rifle of the army is short; that of the hunter is always long.

[8] The Mississippi. The scout alludes to a tradition which is very
popular among the tribes of the Atlantic States. Evidence of their
Asiatic origin is deduced from the circumstances, though great
uncertainty hangs over the whole history of the Indians.

[9] The scene of this tale was in the 42d degree of latitude, where the
twilight is never of long continuance.

[10] The reader will remember that New York was originally a colony of
the Dutch.

[11] The principal villages of the Indians are still called "castles" by
the whites of New York. "Oneida castle" is no more than a scattered
hamlet; but the name is in general use.

[12] In vulgar parlance the condiments of a repast are called by the
American "a relish," substituting the thing for its effect. These
provincial terms are frequently put in the mouths of the speakers,
according to their several conditions in life. Most of them are of local
use, and others quite peculiar to the particular class of men to which
the character belongs. In the present instance, the scout uses the word
with immediate reference to the salt, with which his own party was so
fortunate as to be provided.

[13] Glenn's Falls are on the Hudson, some forty or fifty miles above
the head of tide, or the place where that river becomes navigable for
sloops. The description of this picturesque and remarkable little
cataract, as given by the scout, is sufficiently correct, though the
application of the water to the uses of civilized life has materially
injured its beauties. The rocky island and the two caverns are well
known to every traveller, since the former sustains a pier of a bridge,
which is now thrown across the river, immediately above the fall. In
explanation of the taste of Hawkeye, it should be remembered that men
always prize that most which is least enjoyed. Thus, in a new country,
the woods and other objects, which in an old country would be maintained
at great cost, are got rid of, simply with a view of "improving," as it
is called.

[14] The meaning of Indian words is much governed by the emphasis and
tones.

[15] Mingo was the Delaware term for the Five Nations. Maquas was the
name given them by the Dutch. The French, from their first intercourse
with them, called them Iroquois.

[16] It has long been a practice with the whites to conciliate the
important men of the Indians, by presenting medals, which are worn in
the place of their own rude ornaments. Those given by the English
generally bear the impression of the reigning king, and those given by
the Americans that of the president.

[17] Many of the animals of the American forests resort to those spots
where salt springs are found. These are called "licks" or "salt licks,"
in the language of the country, from the circumstance that the quadruped
is often obliged to lick the earth, in order to obtain the saline
particles. These licks are great places of resort with the hunters, who
waylay their game near the paths that lead to them.

[18] The scene of the foregoing incidents is on the spot where the
village of Ballston now stands; one of the two principal watering-places
of America.

[19] Some years since, the writer was shooting in the vicinity of the
ruins of Fort Oswego, which stands on the shores of Lake Ontario. His
game was deer, and his chase a forest that stretched with little
interruption, fifty miles inland. Unexpectedly he came upon six or eight
ladders lying in the woods within a short distance of each other. They
were rudely made, and much decayed. Wondering what could have assembled
so many of these instruments in such a place, he sought an old man who
resided near for the explanation.

During the war of 1776 Fort Oswego was held by the British. An
expedition had been sent two hundred miles through the wilderness to
surprise the fort. It appears that the Americans, on reaching the spot
named, which was within a mile or two of the fort, first learned that
they were expected, and in great danger of being cut off. They threw
away their scaling-ladders, and made a rapid retreat. These ladders had
lain unmolested thirty years, in the spot where they had thus been cast.

[20] Baron Dieskau, a German, in the service of France. A few years
previous to the period of the tale, this officer was defeated by Sir
William Johnson of Johnstown, New York, on the shores of Lake George.
See Appendix, Note H.

[21] Evidently the late De Witt Clinton, who died governor of New York
in 1828.

[22] The powers of the American mocking-bird are generally known. But
the true mocking-bird is not found so far north as the State of New
York, where it has, however, two substitutes of inferior excellence; the
catbird, so often named by the scout, and the bird vulgarly called
ground-thresher. Either of these two last birds is superior to the
nightingale, or the lark, though, in general, the American birds are
less musical than those of Europe.

[23] The beauties of Lake George are well known to every American
tourist. In the height of the mountains which surround it, and in
artificial accessories, it is inferior to the finest of the Swiss and
Italian lakes, while in outline and purity of water it is fully their
equal; and in the number and disposition of its isles and islets much
superior to them all together. There are said to be some hundreds of
islands in a sheet of water less than thirty miles long. The narrows
which connect what may be called, in truth, two lakes, are crowded with
islands to such a degree as to leave passages between them frequently of
only a few feet in width. The lake itself varies in breadth from one to
three miles.

The State of New York is remarkable for the number and beauty of its
lakes. One of its frontiers lies on the vast sheet of Ontario, while
Champlain stretches nearly a hundred miles along another. Oneida,
Cayuga, Canandaigua, Seneca, and George, are all lakes of thirty miles
in length, while those of a size smaller are without number. On most of
these lakes there are now beautiful villages, and on many of them
steamboats.

[24] These harangues of the beasts are frequent among the Indians. They
often address their victims in this way, reproaching them for cowardice,
or commending their resolution, as they may happen to exhibit fortitude,
or the reverse in suffering.

[25] A dish composed of cracked corn and beans. It is much used also by
the whites. By corn is meant maize.

[26] William Penn was termed Minquon by the Delawares, and, as he never
used violence or injustice in his dealings with them, his reputation for
probity passed into a proverb. The American is justly proud of the
origin of his nation, which is perhaps unequalled in the history of the
world; but the Pennsylvanian and Jerseyman have more reason to value
themselves in their ancestors than the natives of any other State, since
no wrong was done the original owners of the soil.

[27] Turtle.

[28] A tree which has been partially or entirely stripped of its bark is
said, in the language of the country, to be "blazed." The term is
strictly English; for a horse is said to be blazed when it has a white
mark.

[29] The American forest admits of the passage of horse, there being
little underbush, and few tangled brakes. The plan of Hawkeye is the one
which has always proved the most successful in the battles between the
whites and the Indians. Wayne, in his celebrated campaign on the Miami,
received the fire of his enemies in line; and then causing his dragoons
to wheel round his flanks, the Indians were driven from their covers
before they had time to load. One of the most conspicuous of the chiefs
who fought in the battle of Miami assured the writer, that the redmen
could not fight the warriors with "long knives and leather-stockings";
meaning the dragoons with their sabres and boots.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The next morning, the Delawares mourn their dead. Munro holds Cora's body, and Chingachgook stares sorrowfully at his dead son. Tamenund gives a wise speech, and a ritualistic chanting honors the dead. The Delaware maidens chant that Uncas and Cora will be together in the Happy Hunting Ground, and Chingachgook offers the song of a father for his fallen son. After the group buries Cora, Munro asks Hawkeye, who speaks the Delaware language, to convey to the Indians two hopes: that God will not forget the Delawares' kindness and that they will one day be together in a place where race and skin color are irrelevant. Hawkeye, however, proclaims that these sentiments are inappropriate and simply thanks the Delawares for their bravery. The white characters depart without Hawkeye, and Uncas undergoes a proper burial according to Delaware custom. Chingachgook laments that he is now alone, but Hawkeye argues that Uncas has merely left him for a time. Tamenund says he has lived to see the last warrior of the race of the Mohicans.


prompt:
Chapter: _3 May. Bistritz._--Left Munich at 8:35 P. M., on 1st May, arriving at
Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an
hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I
got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the
streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived
late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The
impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the
East; the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is
here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish
rule.

We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh.
Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner, or
rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was
very good but thirsty. (_Mem._, get recipe for Mina.) I asked the
waiter, and he said it was called "paprika hendl," and that, as it was a
national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the
Carpathians. I found my smattering of German very useful here; indeed, I
don't know how I should be able to get on without it.

Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the
British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the library
regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of the
country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a
nobleman of that country. I find that the district he named is in the
extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states,
Transylvania, Moldavia and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian
mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall enter
here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk over my
travels with Mina.

In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct nationalities:
Saxons in the South, and mixed with them the Wallachs, who are the
descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the West, and Szekelys in the
East and North. I am going among the latter, who claim to be descended
from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the Magyars conquered
the country in the eleventh century they found the Huns settled in it. I
read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the
horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of
imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting. (_Mem._, I
must ask the Count all about them.)

I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had
all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my
window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been
the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was
still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous
knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.
I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour
which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a
very excellent dish, which they call "impletata." (_Mem._, get recipe
for this also.) I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little
before eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to
the station at 7:30 I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour
before we began to move. It seems to me that the further east you go the
more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China?

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those I
saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round hats
and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The women
looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very clumsy
about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or other,
and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course there
were petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the
Slovaks, who were more barbarian than the rest, with their big cow-boy
hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous
heavy leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass
nails. They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and
had long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very
picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be
set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are,
however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural
self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is a
very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for the
Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series
of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate
occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it underwent
a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war
proper being assisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of
course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was
evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a
cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress--white
undergarment with long double apron, front, and back, of coloured stuff
fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed and
said, "The Herr Englishman?" "Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker." She
smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves,
who had followed her to the door. He went, but immediately returned with
a letter:--

     "My Friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
     you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will
     start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo
     Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust
     that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you
     will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

"Your friend,

"DRACULA."

_4 May._--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of
way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and that
was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could
tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves,
and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak
further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask
any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means
comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a
very hysterical way:

"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?" She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and
mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I
was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her
that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business,
she asked again:

"Do you know what day it is?" I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:

"Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?" On
my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when
the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have
full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?"
She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but
without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not
to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very
ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business
to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore
tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked
her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and
dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me. I
did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been
taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it
seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a
state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the
rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out
of the room. I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting
for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix is still
round my neck. Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly
traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I
am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book should
ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here comes the
coach!

       *       *       *       *       *

_5 May. The Castle._--The grey of the morning has passed, and the sun is
high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with trees or
hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and little are
mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake,
naturally I write till sleep comes. There are many odd things to put
down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well before I
left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on what they
called "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red
pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple
style of the London cat's meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which
produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not
disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him
talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of me, for every
now and then they looked at me, and some of the people who were sitting
on the bench outside the door--which they call by a name meaning
"word-bearer"--came and listened, and then looked at me, most of them
pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, for
there were many nationalities in the crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot
dictionary from my bag and looked them out. I must say they were not
cheering to me, for amongst them were "Ordog"--Satan, "pokol"--hell,
"stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and "vlkoslak"--both of which mean the same
thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is
either were-wolf or vampire. (_Mem._, I must ask the Count about these
superstitions)

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this time
swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and
pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty I got a
fellow-passenger to tell me what they meant; he would not answer at
first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a
charm or guard against the evil eye. This was not very pleasant for me,
just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man; but every one
seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic that I
could not but be touched. I shall never forget the last glimpse which I
had of the inn-yard and its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing
themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with its background of
rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the
centre of the yard. Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered
the whole front of the box-seat--"gotza" they call them--cracked his big
whip over his four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on
our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the
scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or rather
languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might not have
been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green sloping
land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned
with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the
road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom--apple,
plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the green grass under
the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these
green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran the road,
losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the
straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the
hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we
seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand then
what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing no
time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in summertime
excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after the winter
snows. In this respect it is different from the general run of roads in
the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are not to be kept
in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair them, lest the
Turk should think that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops,
and so hasten the war which was always really at loading point.

Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes
of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right
and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon
them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range,
deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where
grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and
pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where
the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the
mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again
the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as
we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered
peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to
be right before us:--

"Look! Isten szek!"--"God's seat!"--and he crossed himself reverently.

As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower behind
us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was
emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the
sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and there
we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I noticed
that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many crosses,
and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here and there
was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did not even
turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender of
devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There were
many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees, and here
and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white stems
shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now and
again we passed a leiter-wagon--the ordinary peasant's cart--with its
long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of the
road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming
peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their
coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long
staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold,
and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the
gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which
ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the
Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background of
late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine woods
that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of
greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a
peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and
grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset
threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the
Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the
hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could
only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home,
but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said; "you must not
walk here; the dogs are too fierce"; and then he added, with what he
evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to catch the
approving smile of the rest--"and you may have enough of such matters
before you go to sleep." The only stop he would make was a moment's
pause to light his lamps.

When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the
passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as
though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully
with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on
to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of
patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the
hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach
rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared
to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each
side and to frown down upon us; we were entering on the Borgo Pass. One
by one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed
upon me with an earnestness which would take no denial; these were
certainly of an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good
faith, with a kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of
fear-meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotel at
Bistritz--the sign of the cross and the guard against the evil eye.
Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned forward, and on each side the
passengers, craning over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the
darkness. It was evident that something very exciting was either
happening or expected, but though I asked each passenger, no one would
give me the slightest explanation. This state of excitement kept on for
some little time; and at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on
the eastern side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the
air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the
mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got
into the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance
which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the
glare of lamps through the blackness; but all was dark. The only light
was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which the steam from our
hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could see now the sandy
road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle.
The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock
my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when
the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which I
could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone; I
thought it was "An hour less than the time." Then turning to me, he said
in German worse than my own:--

"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all. He will
now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day; better
the next day." Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh and
snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up. Then,
amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal crossing
of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind us, overtook
us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the flash of our
lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were coal-black and
splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown
beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us. I
could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes, which seemed red
in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the driver:--

"You are early to-night, my friend." The man stammered in reply:--

"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:--

"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot
deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift." As he
spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with
very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my
companions whispered to another the line from Burger's "Lenore":--

    "Denn die Todten reiten schnell"--
    ("For the dead travel fast.")

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a
gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time
putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's
luggage," said the driver; and with exceeding alacrity my bags were
handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of the
coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me with a
hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must have been
prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we
swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I saw the steam
from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps, and projected
against it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves. Then
the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off they swept
on their way to Bukovina. As they sank into the darkness I felt a
strange chill, and a lonely feeling came over me; but a cloak was thrown
over my shoulders, and a rug across my knees, and the driver said in
excellent German:--

"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take all
care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the
country) underneath the seat, if you should require it." I did not take
any, but it was a comfort to know it was there all the same. I felt a
little strangely, and not a little frightened. I think had there been
any alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that
unknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along,
then we made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It
seemed to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground
again; and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was
so. I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but
I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any
protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention to
delay. By-and-by, however, as I was curious to know how time was
passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch; it was
within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I
suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my
recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road--a
long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by
another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which
now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed
to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp
it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl the horses began to
strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they
quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though after a runaway from
sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance, from the mountains on each
side of us began a louder and a sharper howling--that of wolves--which
affected both the horses and myself in the same way--for I was minded to
jump from the caleche and run, whilst they reared again and plunged
madly, so that the driver had to use all his great strength to keep them
from bolting. In a few minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed to
the sound, and the horses so far became quiet that the driver was able
to descend and to stand before them. He petted and soothed them, and
whispered something in their ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers
doing, and with extraordinary effect, for under his caresses they became
quite manageable again, though they still trembled. The driver again
took his seat, and shaking his reins, started off at a great pace. This
time, after going to the far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a
narrow roadway which ran sharply to the right.

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over the
roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great frowning
rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in shelter, we
could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled through the
rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as we swept along.
It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall,
so that soon we and all around us were covered with a white blanket. The
keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew
fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded nearer
and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from every side. I
grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my fear. The driver,
however, was not in the least disturbed; he kept turning his head to
left and right, but I could not see anything through the darkness.

Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The
driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses, and,
jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know
what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but while
I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word took
his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen asleep
and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated
endlessly, and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.
Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the darkness
around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where
the blue flame arose--it must have been very faint, for it did not seem
to illumine the place around it at all--and gathering a few stones,
formed them into some device. Once there appeared a strange optical
effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it,
for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same. This startled me, but
as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me
straining through the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue
flames, and we sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the
wolves around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.

At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he
had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble worse
than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any cause
for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether; but just
then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the
jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw
around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues,
with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more
terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled.
For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man
feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand
their true import.

All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had
some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and
looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see;
but the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side; and they
had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for
it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through the
ring and to aid his approach. I shouted and beat the side of the
caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as
to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know
not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and
looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his
long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the wolves
fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed across
the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and the
wolves had disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a
dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time
seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete
darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. We kept on
ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in the main
always ascending. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the
driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a
vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light,
and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit
sky.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Chapter I is taken from the May 3rd and May 4th entries in Jonathan Harker's journal. Harker is on a business trip in Eastern Europe, making his way across one of the most isolated regions of Europe. He is going to meet with a noble of Transylvania, Count Dracula. The heading to his journal entry tells us that Jonathan is writing in Bistritz, in what is now Romania. Two days ago, he was in Munich. One day ago, he was in Vienna. As he has moved farther east, the country has become wilder and less modern. Jonathan Harker records his observations of the people and the countryside, their costume and customs. He has been instructed to stay at an old fashioned hotel in Bistritz before setting out for the final leg of the journey to Dracula's castle. At Bistritz, a letter from Dracula is waiting for him. Jonathan is to rest before setting out the next day for the Borgo Pass, where the Count's coach will be waiting for him. The landlord and his wife are visibly distressed by Jonathan's intentions to go to Dracula's castle. Although they cannot understand each other's languages and must communicate in German, the innkeeper passively tries to stop Jonathan by pretending not to understand his requests for a carriage to the Borgo Pass. The landlord's wife more aggressively tries to dissuade Jonathan, warning him that tomorrow is St. George's Day, and at midnight on St. George's Eve evil is at its strongest. When he insists that he must go, she gives him a crucifixJonathan accepts the gift, even though, as an English Protestant, he considers crucifixes idolatrous. Before Jonathan leaves, he notices that a number of the peasants are watching him with apprehension. Although he cannot understand much of their language, he can make out the words for devil, Satan, werewolf, and vampire. The peasants make motions at him to protect him from the evil eye. On the carriage ride, his fellow passengers, on learning where he is going, treat him with the same kind of concerned sympathy, giving him gifts and protecting him with charms. The ride is in wild and beautiful country. The carriage driver arrives at the Borgo Pass an hour early, and in bad German he then tries to convince Jonathan that Dracula's coachman might not come tonight, and Jonathan should come with the rest of them to Bukovina. At that moment, a fearsome-looking coachman arrives on a vehicle pulled by coal-black horses. One of the passengers whispers, "for He rebukes the carriage driver, and brings Jonathan onto the coach. The final part of the trip is terrifying. The moon is bright but is occasionally obscured by clouds, and strange blue fires and wolves appear along the way. On several occasions, the driver leaves the coach, at which point the wolves come closer and closer to the vehicle. Whenever the driver returns, the wolves fleethe final time this phenomenon occurs, it seems that the wolves flee on the driver's command. The chapter ends with Dracula's castle coming into view, its crumbling battlements cutting a jagged line against the night sky.