prompt:
Chapter: "But though the beast of game
  The privilege of chase may claim;
  Though space and law the stag we lend
  Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend;
  Who ever recked, where, how, or when
  The prowling fox was trapped or slain?"

  _Lady of the Lake._

It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like those of the
more instructed whites, guarded by the presence of armed men. Well
informed of the approach of every danger, while it is yet at a distance,
the Indian generally rests secure under his knowledge of the signs of
the forest, and the long and difficult paths that separate him from
those he has most reason to dread. But the enemy who, by any lucky
concurrence of accidents, has found means to elude the vigilance of the
scouts, will seldom meet with sentinels nearer home to sound the alarm.
In addition to this general usage, the tribes friendly to the French
knew too well the weight of the blow that had just been struck, to
apprehend any immediate danger from the hostile nations that were
tributary to the crown of Britain.

When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves in the centre of the
children, who played the antics already mentioned, it was with the least
previous intimation of their approach. But so soon as they were
observed, the whole of the juvenile pack raised, by common consent, a
shrill and warning whoop; and then sank, as it were, by magic, from
before the sight of their visitors. The naked, tawny bodies of the
crouching urchins blended so nicely, at that hour, with the withered
herbage, that at first it seemed as if the earth had, in truth,
swallowed up their forms; though when surprise permitted Duncan to bend
his look more curiously about the spot, he found it everywhere met by
dark, quick, and rolling eyeballs.

Gathering no encouragement from this startling presage of the nature of
the scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the more mature judgments of
the men, there was an instant when the young soldier would have
retreated. It was, however, too late to appear to hesitate. The cry of
the children had drawn a dozen warriors to the door of the nearest
lodge, where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group, gravely
awaiting the nearer approach of those who had unexpectedly come among
them.

David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the way with a
steadiness that no slight obstacle was likely to disconcert, into this
very building. It was the principal edifice of the village, though
roughly constructed of the bark and branches of trees; being the lodge
in which the tribe held its councils and public meetings during their
temporary residence on the borders of the English province. Duncan found
it difficult to assume the necessary appearance of unconcern, as he
brushed the dark and powerful frames of the savages who thronged its
threshold; but, conscious that his existence depended on his presence of
mind, he trusted to the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps he
closely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally his thoughts
for the occasion. His blood curdled when he found himself in absolute
contact with such fierce and implacable enemies; but he so far mastered
his feelings as to pursue his way into the centre of the lodge, with an
exterior that did not betray the weakness. Imitating the example of the
deliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle of fragrant brush from beneath a pile
that filled a corner of the hut, and seated himself in silence.

So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant warriors fell back
from the entrance, and arranging themselves about him, they seemed
patiently to await the moment when it might comport with the dignity of
the stranger to speak. By far the greater number stood leaning, in lazy,
lounging attitudes, against the upright posts that supported the crazy
building, while three or four of the oldest and most distinguished of
the chiefs placed themselves on the earth a little more in advance.

A flaring torch was burning in the place, and sent its red glare from
face to face and figure to figure, as it waved in the currents of air.
Duncan profited by its light to read the probable character of his
reception, in the countenances of his hosts. But his ingenuity availed
him little, against the cold artifices of the people he had encountered.
The chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping their
eyes on the ground, with an air that might have been intended for
respect, but which it was quite easy to construe into distrust. The men
in shadow were less reserved. Duncan soon detected their searching, but
stolen looks, which, in truth, scanned his person and attire inch by
inch; leaving no emotion of the countenance, no gesture, no line of the
paint, nor even the fashion of a garment, unheeded, and without comment.

At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprinkled with gray, but
whose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced that he was still equal to
the duties of manhood, advanced out of the gloom of a corner, whither he
had probably posted himself to make his observations unseen, and spoke.
He used the language of the Wyandots, or Hurons; his words were,
consequently, unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed, by the
gestures that accompanied them, to be uttered more in courtesy than
anger. The latter shook his head, and made a gesture indicative of his
inability to reply.

"Do none of my brothers speak the French or the English?" he said, in
the former language, looking about him from countenance to countenance,
in hopes of finding a nod of assent.

Though more than one had turned, as if to catch the meaning of his
words, they remained unanswered.

"I should be grieved to think," continued Duncan, speaking slowly, and
using the simplest French of which he was the master, "to believe, that
none of this wise and brave nation understand the language that the
'Grand Monarque' uses when he talks to his children. His heart would be
heavy did he believe his red warriors paid him so little respect!"

A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement of a limb,
nor any expression of an eye, betrayed the impression produced by his
remark. Duncan, who knew that silence was a virtue among his hosts,
gladly had recourse to the custom, in order to arrange his ideas. At
length the same warrior who had before addressed him replied, by dryly
demanding, in the language of the Canadas--

"When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it with the tongue of a
Huron?"

"He knows no difference in his children, whether the color of the skin
be red, or black, or white," returned Duncan, evasively; "though chiefly
is he satisfied with the brave Hurons."

"In what manner will he speak," demanded the wary chief, "when the
runners count to him the scalps which five nights ago grew on the heads
of the Yengeese?"

"They were his enemies," said Duncan, shuddering involuntarily; "and,
doubtless, he will say, It is good; my Hurons are very gallant."

"Our Canada father does not think it. Instead of looking forward to
reward his Indians, his eyes are turned backward. He sees the dead
Yengeese, but no Huron. What can this mean?"

"A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than tongues. He looks to
see that no enemies are on his trail."

"The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the Horican," returned
the savage, gloomily. "His ears are open to the Delawares, who are not
our friends, and they fill them with lies."

"It cannot be. See; he has bid me, who am a man that knows the art of
healing, to go to his children, the red Hurons of the great lakes, and
ask if any are sick!"

Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character Duncan had
assumed. Every eye was simultaneously bent on his person, as if to
inquire into the truth or falsehood of the declaration, with an
intelligence and keenness that caused the subject of their scrutiny to
tremble for the result. He was, however, relieved again by the former
speaker.

"Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their skins?" the Huron coldly
continued; "we have heard them boast that their faces were pale."

"When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers," returned Duncan,
with great steadiness, "he lays aside his buffalo robe, to carry the
shirt that is offered him. My brothers have given me paint, and I wear
it."

A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment to the tribe was
favorably received. The elderly chief made a gesture of commendation,
which was answered by most of his companions, who each threw forth a
hand, and uttered a brief exclamation of pleasure. Duncan began to
breathe more freely, believing that the weight of his examination was
past; and as he had already prepared a simple and probable tale to
support his pretended occupation, his hopes of ultimate success grew
brighter.

After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his thoughts, in order
to make a suitable answer to the declaration their guest had just given,
another warrior arose, and placed himself in an attitude to speak. While
his lips were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful sound arose
from the forest, and was immediately succeeded by a high, shrill yell,
that was drawn out, until it equalled the longest and most plaintive
howl of the wolf. The sudden and terrible interruption caused Duncan to
start from his seat, unconscious of everything but the effect produced
by so frightful a cry. At the same moment, the warriors glided in a body
from the lodge, and the outer air was filled with loud shouts, that
nearly drowned those awful sounds, which were still ringing beneath the
arches of the woods. Unable to command himself any longer, the youth
broke from the place, and presently stood in the centre of a disorderly
throng, that included nearly everything having life, within the limits
of the encampment. Men, women, and children; the aged, the infirm, the
active, and the strong, were alike abroad; some exclaiming aloud, others
clapping their hands with a joy that seemed frantic, and all expressing
their savage pleasure in some unexpected event. Though astounded, at
first, by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to find its solution by
the scene that followed.

There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to exhibit those
bright openings among the tree-tops, where different paths left the
clearing to enter the depths of the wilderness. Beneath one of them, a
line of warriors issued from the woods, and advanced slowly towards the
dwellings. One in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwards
appeared, were suspended several human scalps. The startling sounds that
Duncan had heard were what the whites have not inappropriately called
the "death-halloo;" and each repetition of the cry was intended to
announce to the tribe the fate of an enemy. Thus far the knowledge of
Heyward assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew that the
interruption was caused by the unlooked-for return of a successful
war-party, every disagreeable sensation was quieted in inward
congratulation, for the opportune relief and insignificance it conferred
on himself.

When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the lodges, the newly
arrived warriors halted. Their plaintive and terrific cry, which was
intended to represent equally the wailings of the dead and the triumph
of the victors, had entirely ceased. One of their number now called
aloud, in words that were far from appalling, though not more
intelligible to those for whose ears they were intended, than their
expressive yells. It would be difficult to convey a suitable idea of the
savage ecstasy with which the news thus imparted was received. The whole
encampment, in a moment, became a scene of the most violent bustle and
commotion. The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing them, they
arranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane that extended from the
war-party to the lodges. The squaws seized clubs, axes, or whatever
weapon of offence first offered itself to their hands, and rushed
eagerly to act their part in the cruel game that was at hand. Even the
children would not be excluded; but boys, little able to wield the
instruments, tore the tomahawks from the belts of their fathers, and
stole into the ranks, apt imitators of the savage traits exhibited by
their parents.

Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, and a wary and
aged squaw was occupied in firing as many as might serve to light the
coming exhibition. As the flame arose, its power exceeded that of the
parting day, and assisted to render objects at the same time more
distinct and more hideous. The whole scene formed a striking picture,
whose frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines. The
warriors just arrived were the most distant figures. A little in advance
stood two men, who were apparently selected from the rest, as the
principal actors in what was to follow. The light was not strong enough
to render their features distinct, though it was quite evident that they
were governed by very different emotions. While one stood erect and
firm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero, the other bowed his head,
as if palsied by terror or stricken with shame. The high-spirited Duncan
felt a powerful impulse of admiration and pity towards the former,
though no opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions. He
watched his slightest movement, however, with eager eyes; and as he
traced the fine outline of his admirably proportioned and active frame,
he endeavored to persuade himself, that if the powers of man, seconded
by such noble resolution, could bear one harmless through so severe a
trial, the youthful captive before him might hope for success in the
hazardous race he was about to run. Insensibly the young man drew nigher
to the swarthy lines of the Hurons, and scarcely breathed, so intense
became his interest in the spectacle. Just then the signal yell was
given, and the momentary quiet which had preceded it was broken by a
burst of cries, that far exceeded any before heard. The most abject of
the two victims continued motionless; but the other bounded from the
place at the cry, with the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead of
rushing through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he just
entered the dangerous defile, and before time was given for a single
blow, turned short, and leaping the heads of a row of children, he
gained at once the exterior and safer side of the formidable array. The
artifice was answered by a hundred voices raised in imprecations; and
the whole of the excited multitude broke from their order, and spread
themselves about the place in wild confusion.

A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness on the place,
which resembled some unhallowed and supernatural arena, in which
malicious demons had assembled to act their bloody and lawless rites.
The forms in the background looked like unearthly beings, gliding before
the eye, and cleaving the air with frantic and unmeaning gestures; while
the savage passions of such as passed the flames, were rendered
fearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart their inflamed
visages.

It will easily be understood, that amid such a concourse of vindictive
enemies, no breathing time was allowed the fugitive. There was a single
moment when it seemed as if he would have reached the forest, but the
whole body of his captors threw themselves before him, and drove him
back into the centre of his relentless persecutors. Turning like a
headed deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow, through a pillar
of forked flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he appeared
on the opposite side of the clearing. Here too he was met and turned by
a few of the older and more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried the
throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then several moments
succeeded, during which Duncan believed the active and courageous young
stranger was lost.

Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human forms tossed and
involved in inexplicable confusion. Arms, gleaming knives, and
formidable clubs, appeared above them, but the blows were evidently
given at random. The awful effect was heightened by the piercing shrieks
of the women and the fierce yells of the warriors. Now and then Duncan
caught a glimpse of a light form cleaving the air in some desperate
bound, and he rather hoped than believed that the captive yet retained
the command of his astonishing powers of activity. Suddenly the
multitude rolled backward, and approached the spot where he himself
stood. The heavy body in the rear pressed upon the women and children in
front, and bore them to the earth. The stranger reappeared in the
confusion. Human power could not, however, much longer endure so severe
a trial. Of this the captive seemed conscious. Profiting by the
momentary opening, he darted from among the warriors, and made a
desperate, and, what seemed to Duncan, a final effort to gain the wood.
As if aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young soldier,
the fugitive nearly brushed his person in his flight. A tall and
powerful Huron, who had husbanded his forces, pressed close upon his
heels, and with an uplifted arm menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrust
forth a foot, and the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, many
feet in advance of his intended victim. Thought itself is not quicker
than was the motion with which the latter profited by the advantage; he
turned, gleamed like a meteor again before the eyes of Duncan, and at
the next moment, when the latter recovered his recollection, and gazed
around in quest of the captive, he saw him quietly leaning against a
small painted post, which stood before the door of the principal lodge.

Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might prove fatal
to himself, Duncan left the place without delay. He followed the crowd,
which drew nigh the lodges, gloomy and sullen, like any other multitude
that had been disappointed in an execution. Curiosity, or perhaps a
better feeling, induced him to approach the stranger. He found him,
standing with one arm cast about the protecting post, and breathing
thick and hard, after his exertions, but disdaining to permit a single
sign of suffering to escape. His person was now protected by immemorial
and sacred usage, until the tribe in council had deliberated and
determined on his fate. It was not difficult, however, to foretell the
result, if any presage could be drawn from the feelings of those who
crowded the place.

There was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary that the
disappointed women did not lavishly expend on the successful stranger.
They flouted at his efforts, and told him, with bitter scoffs, that his
feet were better than his hands; and that he merited wings, while he
knew not the use of an arrow or a knife. To all this the captive made no
reply; but was content to preserve an attitude in which dignity was
singularly blended with disdain. Exasperated as much by his composure as
by his good-fortune, their words became unintelligible, and were
succeeded by shrill, piercing yells. Just then the crafty squaw, who had
taken the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way through
the throng, and cleared a place for herself in front of the captive. The
squalid and withered person of this hag might well have obtained for her
the character of possessing more than human cunning. Throwing back her
light vestment, she stretched forth her long skinny arm, in derision,
and using the language of the Lenape, as more intelligible to the
subject of her gibes, she commenced aloud--

"Look you, Delaware!" she said, snapping her fingers in his face; "your
nation is a race of women, and the hoe is better fitted to your hands
than the gun. Your squaws are the mothers of deer; but if a bear, or a
wild cat, or a serpent were born among you, ye would flee. The Huron
girls shall make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband."

A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during which the soft
and musical merriment of the younger females strangely chimed with the
cracked voice of their older and more malignant companion. But the
stranger was superior to all their efforts. His head was immovable; nor
did he betray the slightest consciousness that any were present, except
when his haughty eye rolled towards the dusky forms of the warriors, who
stalked in the background, silent and sullen observers of the scene.

Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the woman placed her arms
akimbo; and throwing herself into a posture of defiance, she broke out
anew, in a torrent of words that no art of ours could commit
successfully to paper. Her breath was, however, expended in vain; for,
although distinguished in her own nation as a proficient in the art of
abuse, she was permitted to work herself into such a fury as actually to
foam at the mouth, without causing a muscle to vibrate in the motionless
figure of the stranger. The effect of his indifference began to extend
itself to the other spectators; and a youngster, who was just quitting
the condition of a boy, to enter the state of manhood, attempted to
assist the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before their victim,
and adding his empty boasts to the taunts of the woman. Then, indeed,
the captive turned his face towards the light, and looked down on the
stripling with an expression that was superior to contempt. At the next
moment he resumed his quiet and reclining attitude against the post. But
the change of posture had permitted Duncan to exchange glances with the
firm and piercing eyes of Uncas.

[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

THE TERMAGANT

_Throwing back her light vestment, she stretched forth her long skinny
arm, in derision_]

Breathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed with the critical
situation of his friend, Heyward recoiled before the look, trembling
lest its meaning might, in some unknown manner, hasten the prisoner's
fate. There was not, however, any instant cause for such an
apprehension. Just then a warrior forced his way into the exasperated
crowd. Motioning the women and children aside with a stern gesture, he
took Uncas by the arm, and led him towards the door of the council
lodge. Thither all the chiefs, and most of the distinguished warriors,
followed; among whom the anxious Heyward found means to enter without
attracting any dangerous attention to himself.

A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those present in a manner
suitable to their rank and influence in the tribe. An order very similar
to that adopted in the preceding interview was observed; the aged and
superior chiefs occupying the area of the spacious apartment, within the
powerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and inferiors
were arranged in the background, presenting a dark outline of swarthy
and marked visages. In the very centre of the lodge, immediately under
an opening that admitted the twinkling light of one or two stars, stood
Uncas, calm, elevated, and collected. His high and haughty carriage was
not lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his person, with
eyes which, while they lost none of their inflexibility of purpose,
plainly betrayed their admiration of the stranger's daring.

The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had observed to
stand forth with his friend, previously to the desperate trial of speed;
and who, instead of joining in the chase, had remained, throughout its
turbulent uproar, like a cringing statue, expressive of shame and
disgrace. Though not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet an
eye had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered the
lodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he submitted,
seemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited by the first opportunity
to gaze in his face, secretly apprehensive he might find the features of
another acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger, and,
what was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all the distinctive
marks of a Huron warrior. Instead of mingling with his tribe, however,
he sat apart, a solitary being in a multitude, his form shrinking into a
crouching and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space as
possible. When each individual had taken his proper station, and silence
reigned in the place, the gray-haired chief already introduced to the
reader, spoke aloud, in the language of the Lenni Lenape.

"Delaware," he said, "though one of a nation of women, you have proved
yourself a man. I would give you food; but he who eats with a Huron
should become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when our
last words shall be spoken."

"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the trail of
the Hurons," Uncas coldly replied; "the children of the Lenape know how
to travel the path of the just without lingering to eat."

"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion," resumed the
other, without appearing to regard the boast of his captive; "when they
get back, then will our wise men say to you 'live' or 'die.'"

"Has a Huron no ears?" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; "twice, since he has
been your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a gun that he knows. Your
young men will never come back!"

A short and sullen pause succeeded this bold assertion. Duncan, who
understood the Mohican to allude to the fatal rifle of the scout, bent
forward in earnest observation of the effect it might produce on the
conquerors; but the chief was content with simply retorting,--

"If the Lenape are so skilful, why is one of their bravest warriors
here?"

"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into a snare. The
cunning beaver may be caught."

As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger toward the solitary
Huron, but without deigning to bestow any other notice on so unworthy an
object. The words of the answer and the air of the speaker produced a
strong sensation among his auditors. Every eye rolled sullenly towards
the individual indicated by the simple gesture, and a low, threatening
murmur passed through the crowd. The ominous sounds reached the outer
door, and the women and children pressing into the throng, no gap had
been left, between shoulder and shoulder, that was not now filled with
the dark lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance.

In the meantime, the more aged chiefs, in the centre, communed with each
other in short and broken sentences. Not a word was uttered that did not
convey the meaning of the speaker, in the simplest and most energetic
form. Again, a long and deeply solemn pause took place. It was known,
by all present, to be the grave precursor of a weighty and important
judgment. They who composed the outer circle of faces were on tiptoe to
gaze; and even the culprit for an instant forgot his shame in a deeper
emotion, and exposed his abject features, in order to cast an anxious
and troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs. The silence was
finally broken by the aged warrior so often named. He arose from the
earth, and moving past the immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in a
dignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the withered
squaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow, sideling sort
of a dance, holding the torch, and muttering the indistinct words of
what might have been a species of incantation. Though her presence was
altogether an intrusion, it was unheeded.

Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a manner as to
cast its red glare on his person, and to expose the slightest emotion of
his countenance. The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude;
and his eye, so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt
steadily on the distance, as though it penetrated the obstacles which
impeded the view, and looked into futurity. Satisfied with her
examination, she left him, with a slight expression of pleasure, and
proceeded to practise the same trying experiment on her delinquent
countryman.

The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a finely
moulded form was concealed by his attire. The light rendered every limb
and joint discernible, and Duncan turned away in horror when he saw they
were writhing in irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low and
plaintive howl at the sad and shameful spectacle, when the chief put
forth his hand and gently pushed her aside.

"Reed-that-bends," he said, addressing the young culprit by name, and in
his proper language, "though the Great Spirit has made you pleasant to
the eyes, it would have been better that you had not been born. Your
tongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still. None of my
young men strike the tomahawk deeper into the war-post--none of them so
lightly on the Yengeese. The enemy know the shape of your back, but they
have never seen the color of your eyes. Three times have they called on
you to come, and as often did you forget to answer. Your name will never
be mentioned again in your tribe--it is already forgotten."

As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing impressively between
each sentence, the culprit raised his face, in deference to the other's
rank and years. Shame, horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments.
His eye, which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on the
persons of those whose breath was his fame; and the latter emotion for
an instant predominated. He arose to his feet, and baring his bosom,
looked steadily on the keen, glittering knife, that was already upheld
by his inexorable judge. As the weapon passed slowly into his heart he
even smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful than he
had anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at the feet of the rigid
and unyielding form of Uncas.

The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch to the earth,
and buried everything in darkness. The whole shuddering group of
spectators glided from the lodge, like troubled sprites; and Duncan
thought that he and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an Indian
judgment had now become its only tenants.

  "Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay
  Dissolve the council, and their chief obey."

  POPE'S _Iliad._

A single moment served to convince the youth that he was mistaken. A
hand was laid, with a powerful pressure, on his arm, and the low voice
of Uncas muttered in his ears,--

"The Hurons are dogs. The sight of a coward's blood can never make a
warrior tremble. The 'Gray Head' and the Sagamore are safe, and the
rifle of Hawkeye is not asleep. Go,--Uncas and the 'Open Hand' are now
strangers. It is enough."

Heyward would gladly have heard more, but a gentle push from his friend
urged him towards the door, and admonished him of the danger that might
attend the discovery of their intercourse. Slowly and reluctantly
yielding to the necessity, he quitted the place, and mingled with the
throng that hovered nigh. The dying fires in the clearing cast a dim and
uncertain light on the dusky figures that were silently stalking to and
fro; and occasionally a brighter gleam than common glanced into the
lodge, and exhibited the figure of Uncas still maintaining its upright
attitude near the dead body of the Huron.

A knot of warriors soon entered the place again, and reissuing, they
bore the senseless remains into the adjacent woods. After this
termination of the scene, Duncan wandered among the lodges, unquestioned
and unnoticed, endeavoring to find some trace of her in whose behalf he
incurred the risk he ran. In the present temper of the tribe, it would
have been easy to have fled and rejoined his companions, had such a wish
crossed his mind. But, in addition to the never-ceasing anxiety on
account of Alice, a fresher, though feebler interest in the fate of
Uncas assisted to chain him to the spot. He continued, therefore, to
stray from hut to hut, looking into each only to encounter additional
disappointment, until he had made the entire circuit of the village.
Abandoning a species of inquiry that proved so fruitless, he retraced
his steps to the council lodge, resolved to seek and question David, in
order to put an end to his doubts.

On reaching the building which had proved alike the seat of judgment
and the place of execution, the young man found that the excitement had
already subsided. The warriors had reassembled, and were now calmly
smoking, while they conversed gravely on the chief incidents of their
recent expedition to the head of the Horican. Though the return of
Duncan was likely to remind them of his character, and the suspicious
circumstances of his visit, it produced no visible sensation. So far,
the terrible scene that had just occurred proved favorable to his views,
and he required no other prompter than his own feelings to convince him
of the expediency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage.

Without seeming to hesitate, he walked into the lodge, and took his seat
with a gravity that accorded admirably with the deportment of his hosts.
A hasty but searching glance sufficed to tell him that, though Uncas
still remained where he had left him, David had not reappeared. No other
restraint was imposed on the former than the watchful looks of a young
Huron, who had placed himself at hand; though an armed warrior leaned
against the post that formed one side of the narrow door-way. In every
other respect, the captive seemed at liberty; still he was excluded from
all participation in the discourse, and possessed much more of the air
of some finely moulded statue than a man having life and volition.

Heyward had too recently witnessed a frightful instance of the prompt
punishments of the people into whose hands he had fallen, to hazard an
exposure by any officious boldness. He would greatly have preferred
silence and meditation to speech, when a discovery of his real condition
might prove so instantly fatal. Unfortunately for this prudent
resolution, his entertainers appeared otherwise disposed. He had not
long occupied the seat wisely taken a little in the shade, when another
of the elder warriors, who spoke the French language, addressed him:--

"My Canada father does not forget his children," said the chief; "I
thank him. An evil spirit lives in the wife of one of my young men. Can
the cunning stranger frighten him away?"

Heyward possessed some knowledge of the mummery practised among the
Indians, in the cases of such supposed visitations. He saw, at a glance,
that the circumstance might possibly be improved to further his own end.
It would, therefore, have been difficult, just then, to have uttered a
proposal that would have given him more satisfaction. Aware of the
necessity of preserving the dignity of his imaginary character, however,
he repressed his feelings, and answered with suitable mystery,--

"Spirits differ; some yield to the power of wisdom, while others are too
strong."

"My brother is a great medicine," said the cunning savage; "he will
try?"

A gesture of assent was the answer. The Huron was content with the
assurance, and resuming his pipe, he awaited the proper moment to move.
The impatient Heyward, inwardly execrating the cold customs of the
savages, which required such sacrifices to appearance, was fain to
assume an air of indifference, equal to that maintained by the chief,
who was, in truth, a near relative of the afflicted woman. The minutes
lingered, and the delay had seemed an hour to the adventurer in
empiricism, when the Huron laid aside his pipe, and drew his robe across
his breast, as if about to lead the way to the lodge of the invalid.
Just then, a warrior of powerful frame darkened the door, and stalking
silently among the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of the
low pile of brush which sustained Duncan. The latter cast an impatient
look at his neighbor, and felt his flesh creep with uncontrollable
horror when he found himself in actual contact with Magua.

The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief caused a delay in the
departure of the Huron. Several pipes, that had been extinguished, were
lighted again; while the newcomer, without speaking a word, drew his
tomahawk from his girdle, and filling the bowl on its head, began to
inhale the vapors of the weed through the hollow handle, with as much
indifference as if he had not been absent two weary days on a long and
toilsome hunt. Ten minutes, which appeared so many ages to Duncan, might
have passed in this manner; and the warriors were fairly enveloped in a
cloud of white smoke before any of them spoke.

"Welcome!" one at length uttered; "has my friend found the moose?"

"The young men stagger under their burdens," returned Magua. "Let
'Reed-that-bends' go on the hunting-path; he will meet them."

A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of the forbidden name.
Each pipe dropped from the lips of its owner as though all had inhaled
an impurity at the same instant. The smoke wreathed above their heads in
little eddies, and curling in a spiral form, it ascended swiftly
through the opening in the roof of the lodge, leaving the place beneath
clear of its fumes, and each dark visage distinctly visible. The looks
of most of the warriors were riveted on the earth; though a few of the
younger and less gifted of the party suffered their wild and glaring
eyeballs to roll in the direction of a white-headed savage, who sat
between two of the most venerated chiefs of the tribe. There was nothing
in the air or attire of this Indian that would seem to entitle him to
such a distinction. The former was rather depressed, than remarkable for
the bearing of the natives; and the latter was such as was commonly worn
by the ordinary men of the nation. Like most around him, for more than a
minute his look too was on the ground; but, trusting his eyes at length
to steal a glance aside, he perceived that he was becoming an object of
general attention. Then he arose and lifted his voice in the general
silence.

"It was a lie," he said; "I had no son. He who was called by that name
is forgotten; his blood was pale; and it came not from the veins of a
Huron; the wicked Chippewas cheated my squaw. The Great Spirit has said,
that the family of Wiss-entush should end; he is happy who knows that
the evil of his race dies with himself. I have done."

The speaker, who was the father of the recreant young Indian, looked
round and about him, as if seeking commendation of his stoicism in the
eyes of his auditors. But the stern customs of his people had made too
severe an exaction of the feeble old man. The expression of his eye
contradicted his figurative and boastful language, while every muscle in
his wrinkled visage was working with anguish. Standing a single minute
to enjoy his bitter triumph, he turned away, as if sickening at the gaze
of men, and veiling his face in his blanket, he walked from the lodge
with the noiseless step of an Indian, seeking, in the privacy of his own
abode, the sympathy of one like himself, aged, forlorn, and childless.

The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of virtues and
defects in character, suffered him to depart in silence. Then, with an
elevation of breeding that many in a more cultivated state of society
might profitably emulate, one of the chiefs drew the attention of the
young men from the weakness they had just witnessed, by saying, in a
cheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as the newest
comer,--

"The Delawares have been like bears after the honey-pots, prowling
around my village. But who has ever found a Huron asleep?"

The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes a burst of thunder
was not blacker than the brow of Magua as he exclaimed,--

"The Delawares of the Lakes!"

"Not so. They who wear the petticoats of squaws, on their own river. One
of them has been passing the tribe."

"Did my young men take his scalp?"

"His legs were good, though his arm is better for the hoe than the
tomahawk," returned the other, pointing to the immovable form of Uncas.

Instead of manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast his eyes with the
sight of a captive from a people he was known to have so much reason to
hate, Magua continued to smoke, with the meditative air that he usually
maintained, when there was no immediate call on his cunning or his
eloquence. Although secretly amazed at the facts communicated by the
speech of the aged father, he permitted himself to ask no questions,
reserving his inquiries for a more suitable moment. It was only after a
sufficient interval that he shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced the
tomahawk, tightened his girdle, and arose, casting for the first time a
glance in the direction of the prisoner, who stood a little behind him.
The wary, though seemingly abstracted Uncas, caught a glimpse of the
movement, and turning suddenly to the light, their looks met. Near a
minute these two bold and untamed spirits stood regarding one another
steadily in the eye, neither quailing in the least before the fierce
gaze he encountered. The form of Uncas dilated, and his nostrils opened
like those of a tiger at bay; but so rigid and unyielding was his
posture, that he might easily have been converted by the imagination
into an exquisite and faultless representation of the warlike deity of
his tribe. The lineaments of the quivering features of Magua proved more
ductile; his countenance gradually lost its character of defiance in an
expression of ferocious joy, and heaving a breath from the very bottom
of his chest, he pronounced aloud the very formidable name of--

"Le Cerf Agile!"

Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of the well known
appellation, and there was a short period during which the stoical
constancy of the natives was completely conquered by surprise. The
hated and yet respected name was repeated as by one voice, carrying the
sound even beyond the limits of the lodge. The women and children, who
lingered around the entrance, took up the words in an echo, which was
succeeded by another shrill and plaintive howl. The latter was not yet
ended, when the sensation among the men had entirely abated. Each one in
presence seated himself, as though ashamed of his precipitation; but it
was many minutes before their meaning eyes ceased to roll towards their
captive, in curious examination of a warrior who had so often proved his
prowess on the best and proudest of their nation. Uncas enjoyed his
victory, but was content with merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet
smile--an emblem of scorn which belongs to all time and every nation.

Magua caught the expression, and raising his arm, he shook it at the
captive, the light silver ornaments attached to his bracelet rattling
with the trembling agitation of the limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he
exclaimed, in English,--

"Mohican, you die!"

"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to life," returned
Uncas, in the music of the Delawares; "the tumbling river washes their
bones; their men are squaws; their women owls. Go! call together the
Huron dogs, that they may look upon a warrior. My nostrils are offended;
they scent the blood of a coward."

The latter allusion struck deep, and the injury rankled. Many of the
Hurons understood the strange tongue in which the captive spoke, among
which number was Magua. This cunning savage beheld, and instantly
profited by his advantage. Dropping the light robe of skin from his
shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced a burst of his
dangerous and artful eloquence. However much his influence among his
people had been impaired by his occasional and besetting weakness, as
well as by his desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an
orator were undeniable. He never spoke without auditors, and rarely
without making converts to his opinions. On the present occasion, his
native powers were stimulated by the thirst of revenge.

He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at Glenn's,
the death of his associates, and the escape of their most formidable
enemies. Then he described the nature and position of the mount whither
he had led such captives as had fallen into their hands. Of his own
bloody intentions towards the maidens, and of his baffled malice he made
no mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party by La
Longue Carabine, and its fatal termination. Here he paused, and looked
about him, in affected veneration for the departed, but, in truth, to
note the effect of his opening narrative. As usual, every eye was
riveted on his face. Each dusky figure seemed a breathing statue, so
motionless was the posture, so intense the attention of the individual.

Then Magua dropped his voice, which had hitherto been clear, strong, and
elevated, and touched upon the merits of the dead. No quality that was
likely to command the sympathy of an Indian escaped his notice. One had
never been known to follow the chase in vain; another had been
indefatigable on the trail of their enemies. This was brave, that
generous. In short, he so managed his allusions, that in a nation, which
was composed of so few families, he contrived to strike every chord that
might find, in its turn, some breast in which to vibrate.

"Are the bones of my young men," he concluded, "in the burial-place of
the Hurons? You know they are not. Their spirits are gone towards the
setting sun, and are already crossing the great waters, to the happy
hunting-grounds. But they departed without food, without guns or knives,
without moccasins, naked and poor as they were born. Shall this be? Are
their souls to enter the land of the just like hungry Iroquois or
unmanly Delawares; or shall they meet their friends with arms in their
hands and robes on their backs? What will our fathers think the tribes
of the Wyandots have become? They will look on their children with a
dark eye, and say, Go! a Chippewa has come hither with the name of a
Huron. Brothers, we must not forget the dead; a redskin never ceases to
remember. We will load the back of this Mohican until he staggers under
our bounty, and despatch him after my young men. They call to us for
aid, though our ears are not open; they say, Forget us not. When they
see the spirit of this Mohican toiling after them with his burden, they
will know we are of that mind. Then will they go on happy; and our
children will say, 'So did our fathers to their friends, so must we do
to them.' What is a Yengee? we have slain many, but the earth is still
pale. A stain on the name of a Huron can only be hid by blood that comes
from the veins of an Indian. Let this Delaware die."

The effect of such an harangue, delivered in the nervous language and
with the emphatic manner of a Huron orator, could scarcely be mistaken.
Magua had so artfully blended the natural sympathies with the religious
superstition of his auditors, that their minds, already prepared by
custom to sacrifice a victim to the _manes_ of their countrymen, lost
every vestige of humanity in a wish for revenge. One warrior in
particular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had been conspicuous for
the attention he had given to the words of the speaker. His countenance
had changed with each passing emotion, until it settled into a look of
deadly malice. As Magua ended he arose, and uttering the yell of a
demon, his polished little axe was seen glancing in the torch-light as
he whirled it above his head. The motion and the cry were too sudden for
words to interrupt his bloody intention. It appeared as if a bright
gleam shot from his hand, which was crossed at the same moment by a dark
and powerful line. The former was the tomahawk in its passage; the
latter the arm that Magua darted forward to divert its aim. The quick
and ready motion of the chief was not entirely too late. The keen weapon
cut the war-plume from the scalping-tuft of Uncas, and passed through
the frail wall of the lodge, as though it were hurled from some
formidable engine.

Duncan had seen the threatening action, and sprang upon his feet, with a
heart which while it leaped into his throat, swelled with the most
generous resolution in behalf of his friend. A glance told him that the
blow had failed, and terror changed to admiration. Uncas stood still,
looking his enemy in the eye with features that seemed superior to
emotion. Marble could not be colder, calmer, or steadier than the
countenance he put upon this sudden and vindictive attack. Then, as if
pitying a want of skill which had proved so fortunate to himself, he
smiled, and muttered a few words of contempt in his own tongue.

"No!" said Magua, after satisfying himself of the safety of the captive;
"the sun must shine on his shame; the squaws must see his flesh tremble,
or our revenge will be like the play of boys. Go! take him where there
is silence; let us see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the
morning die."

The young men whose duty it was to guard the prisoner instantly passed
their ligaments of bark across his arms, and led him from the lodge,
amid a profound and ominous silence. It was only as the figure of Uncas
stood in the opening of the door that his firm step hesitated. There he
turned, and, in the sweeping and haughty glance that he threw around the
circle of his enemies, Duncan caught a look which he was glad to
construe into an expression that he was not entirely deserted by hope.

Magua was content with his success, or too much occupied with his secret
purposes to push his inquiries any further. Shaking his mantle, and
folding it on his bosom, he also quitted the place, without pursuing a
subject which might have proved so fatal to the individual at his elbow.
Notwithstanding his rising resentment, his natural firmness, and his
anxiety in behalf of Uncas, Heyward felt sensibly relieved by the
absence of so dangerous and so subtle a foe. The excitement produced by
the speech gradually subsided. The warriors resumed their seats, and
clouds of smoke once more filled the lodge. For near half an hour, not a
syllable was uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside; a grave and
meditative silence being the ordinary succession to every scene of
violence and commotion among those beings, who were alike so impetuous
and yet so self-restrained.

When the chief who had solicited the aid of Duncan finished his pipe, he
made a final and successful movement towards departing. A motion of a
finger was the intimation he gave the supposed physician to follow; and
passing through the clouds of smoke, Duncan was glad, on more accounts
than one, to be able, at last, to breathe the pure air of a cool and
refreshing summer evening.

Instead of pursuing his way among those lodges where Heyward had already
made his unsuccessful search, his companion turned aside, and proceeded
directly towards the base of an adjacent mountain, which overhung the
temporary village. A thicket of brush skirted its foot, and it became
necessary to proceed through a crooked and narrow path. The boys had
resumed their sports in the clearing, and were enacting a mimic chase to
the post among themselves. In order to render their games as like the
reality as possible, one of the boldest of their number had conveyed a
few brands into some piles of tree-tops that had hitherto escaped the
burning. The blaze of one of these fires lighted the way of the chief
and Duncan, and gave a character of additional wildness to the rude
scenery. At a little distance from a bald rock, and directly in its
front, they entered a grassy opening, which they prepared to cross. Just
then fresh fuel was added to the fire, and a powerful light penetrated
even to that distant spot. It fell upon the white surface of the
mountain, and was reflected downwards upon a dark and mysterious-looking
being that arose, unexpectedly, in their path.

The Indian paused, as if doubtful whether to proceed, and permitted his
companion to approach his side. A large black ball, which at first
seemed stationary, now began to move in a manner that to the latter was
inexplicable. Again the fire brightened, and its glare fell more
distinctly on the object. Then even Duncan knew it, by its restless and
sideling attitudes, which kept the upper part of its form in constant
motion, while the animal itself appeared seated, to be a bear. Though it
growled loudly and fiercely, and there were instants when its glistening
eyeballs might be seen, it gave no other indications of hostility. The
Huron, at least, seemed assured that the intentions of this singular
intruder were peaceable, for after giving it an attentive examination,
he quietly pursued his course.

Duncan, who knew that the animal was often domesticated among the
Indians, followed the example of his companion, believing that some
favorite of the tribe had found its way into the thicket, in search of
food. They passed it unmolested. Though obliged to come nearly in
contact with the monster, the Huron, who had at first so warily
determined the character of his strange visitor, was now content with
proceeding without wasting a moment in further examination; but Heyward
was unable to prevent his eyes from looking backward, in salutary
watchfulness against attacks in the rear. His uneasiness was in no
degree diminished when he perceived the beast rolling along their path,
and following their footsteps. He would have spoken, but the Indian at
that moment shoved aside a door of bark, and entered a cavern in the
bosom of the mountain.

Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan stepped after him, and
was gladly closing the slight cover to the opening, when he felt it
drawn from his hand by the beast, whose shaggy form immediately darkened
the passage. They were now in a straight and long gallery, in a chasm of
the rocks, where retreat without encountering the animal was impossible.
Making the best of the circumstances, the young man pressed forward,
keeping as close as possible to his conductor. The bear growled
frequently at his heels, and once or twice its enormous paws were laid
on his person, as if disposed to prevent his further passage into the
den.

How long the nerves of Heyward would have sustained him in this
extraordinary situation, it might be difficult to decide; for, happily,
he soon found relief. A glimmer of light had constantly been in their
front, and they now arrived at the place whence it proceeded.

A large cavity in the rock had been rudely fitted to answer the purposes
of many apartments. The subdivisions were simple but ingenious, being
composed of stone, sticks, and bark, intermingled. Openings above
admitted the light by day, and at night fires and torches supplied the
place of the sun. Hither the Hurons had brought most of their valuables,
especially those which more particularly pertained to the nation; and
hither, as it now appeared, the sick woman, who was believed to be the
victim of supernatural power, had been transported also, under an
impression that her tormentor would find more difficulty in making his
assaults through walls of stone than through the leafy coverings of the
lodges. The apartment into which Duncan and his guide first entered, had
been exclusively devoted to her accommodation. The latter approached her
bedside, which was surrounded by females, in the centre of whom Heyward
was surprised to find his missing friend David.

A single look was sufficient to apprise the pretended leech that the
invalid was far beyond his powers of healing. She lay in a sort of
paralysis, indifferent to the objects which crowded before her sight,
and happily unconscious of suffering. Heyward was far from regretting
that his mummeries were to be performed on one who was much too ill to
take an interest in their failure or success. The slight qualm of
conscience which had been excited by the intended deception was
instantly appeased, and he began to collect his thoughts, in order to
enact his part with suitable spirit, when he found he was about to be
anticipated in his skill by an attempt to prove the power of music.

Gamut, who had stood prepared to pour forth his spirit in song when the
visitors entered, after delaying a moment, drew a strain from his pipe,
and commenced a hymn that might have worked a miracle, had faith in its
efficacy been of much avail. He was allowed to proceed to the close, the
Indians respecting his imaginary infirmity, and Duncan too glad of the
delay to hazard the slightest interruption. As the dying cadence of his
strains was falling on the ears of the latter, he started aside at
hearing them repeated behind him in a voice half human, half
sepulchral. Looking around, he beheld the shaggy monster seated on end
in a shadow of the cavern, where, while his restless body swung in the
uneasy manner of the animal, it repeated, in a sort of low growl, sound,
if not words, which bore some slight resemblance to the melody of the
singer.

The effect of so strange an echo on David may better be imagined than
described. His eyes opened as if he doubted their truth; and his voice
became instantly mute in excess of wonder. A deep-laid scheme, of
communicating some important intelligence to Heyward, was driven from
his recollection by an emotion which very nearly resembled fear, but
which he was fain to believe was admiration. Under its influence, he
exclaimed aloud--"She expects you, and is at hand;" and precipitately
left the cavern.

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

completion: Typically the village has no guards, but the whooping of the children brings warriors to the door of the nearest lodge as Gamut and Heyward approach the principal building, brush past savages to the center of the lodge, and seat themselves in silence. In the light of a torch, Heyward assumes the part of a French doctor and has to placate the Hurons, who feel deserted by the French. Shouts bring everyone outdoors where a war party has unexpectedly returned with several human scalps. In the lurid light from scattered piles of brush, two men stand forth, one erect and firm, the other with bowed head. The first is a prisoner who, surrounded at all perimeters, must run a hazardous race, either to escape or to reach a small painted post in front of the main lodge. The man shows remarkable speed and agility, but he is outnumbered and outflanked and finally reaches the post only when Heyward without detection trips the closest pursuer. The panting man is mocked and derided by the women but keeps his self-command, only once turning his head so that Heyward sees it is Uncas. With all the principals inside the main lodge, a council begins. Through the capture of Uncas, the downcast young Huron has been caught in his third act of cowardice and continues to writhe in fright. Because of his acts, his aged father ritualistically plunges a knife into his heart, saying that his name is already forgotten. Immediately the torch is extinguished and everyone leaves except Heyward, Uncas, and the dead Huron. Urged outside by Uncas, the supposed doctor wanders from hut to hut but cannot find any sign of Alice. Returning to the lodge where Uncas still stands and warriors are calmly smoking, he is about to be taken by a chief to cure a sick squaw when Magua appears. When Magua inadvertently refers to the cowardly Huron, there is silence until the father declares that he never had a son and leaves -- in shame, for the Indians believe that virtues and defects in character come through heredity. Magua surprises the others by identifying Uncas as Le Cerf Agile. He then orates for revenge on Uncas, and the Mohican is taken out to await torture and death the next morning. After Magua leaves, smoke fills the lodge again before the chief beckons to Heyward and leads him outside and toward the base of a mountain. They encounter a bear that seems relatively friendly but follows them closely as they enter a cavern. A glimmering light ahead directs them to a large cavity of many apartments where the Hurons keep their valuables and where a sick woman's bedside is surrounded by females and Gamut. Somewhat thankfully, Heyward sees that the paralyzed woman is beyond healing. Gamut pours forth a hymn and is so struck with wonder when the bear tries to imitate him that all he can say to Heyward is "She expects you, she is at hand" and exits precipitately.


prompt:
Chapter: _"Snug._--Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give
    it me, for I am slow of study."

  _"Quince_.--You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring."

  _Midsummer Night's Dream._

There was a strange blending of the ridiculous with that which was
solemn in this scene. The beast still continued its rolling, and
apparently untiring movements, though its ludicrous attempt to imitate
the melody of David ceased the instant the latter abandoned the field.
The words of Gamut were, as has been seen, in his native tongue; and to
Duncan they seemed pregnant with some hidden meaning, though nothing
present assisted him in discovering the object of their illusion. A
speedy end was, however, put to every conjecture on the subject, by the
manner of the chief, who advanced to the bedside of the invalid, and
beckoned away the whole group of female attendants that had clustered
there to witness the skill of the stranger. He was implicitly, though
reluctantly, obeyed; and when the low echo which rang along the hollow
natural gallery from the distant closing door had ceased, pointing
towards his insensible daughter, he said,--

"Now let my brother show his power."

Thus unequivocally called on to exercise the functions of his assumed
character, Heyward was apprehensive that the smallest delay might prove
dangerous. Endeavoring then to collect his ideas, he prepared to perform
that species of incantation, and those uncouth rites, under which the
Indian conjurers are accustomed to conceal their ignorance and
impotency. It is more than probable that, in the disordered state of his
thoughts, he would soon have fallen into some suspicious, if not fatal
error, had not his incipient attempts been interrupted by a fierce growl
from the quadruped. Three several times did he renew his efforts to
proceed, and as often was he met by the same unaccountable opposition,
each interruption seeming more savage and threatening than the
preceding.

"The cunning ones are jealous," said the Huron; "I go. Brother, the
woman is the wife of one of my bravest young men; deal justly by her.
Peace!" he added, beckoning to the discontented beast to be quiet; "I
go."

The chief was as good as his word, and Duncan now found himself alone in
that wild and desolate abode, with the helpless invalid, and the fierce
and dangerous brute. The latter listened to the movements of the Indian
with that air of sagacity that a bear is known to possess, until another
echo announced that he had also left the cavern, when it turned and came
waddling up to Duncan, before whom it seated itself, in its natural
attitude, erect like a man. The youth looked anxiously about him for
some weapon, with which he might make a resistance against the attack he
now seriously expected.

It seemed, however, as if the humor of the animal had suddenly changed.
Instead of continuing its discontented growls, or manifesting any
further signs of anger, the whole of its shaggy body shook violently, as
if agitated by some strange internal convulsion. The huge and unwieldy
talons pawed stupidly about the grinning muzzle, and while Heyward kept
his eyes riveted on its movements with jealous watchfulness, the grim
head fell on one side, and in its place appeared the honest, sturdy
countenance of the scout, who was indulging from the bottom of his soul,
in his own peculiar expression of merriment.

"Hist!" said the wary woodsman, interrupting Heyward's exclamation of
surprise; "the varlets are about the place, and any sounds that are not
natural to witchcraft would bring them back upon us in a body."

"Tell me the meaning of this masquerade; and why you have attempted so
desperate an adventure."

"Ah! reason and calculation are often outdone by accident," returned the
scout. "But as a story should always commence at the beginning, I will
tell you the whole in order. After we parted I placed the commandant and
the Sagamore in an old beaver lodge, where they are safer from the
Hurons than they would be in the garrison of Edward, for your high
northwest Indians, not having as yet got the traders among them,
continue to venerate the beaver. After which Uncas and I pushed for the
other encampment, as was agreed; have you seen the lad?"

"To my great grief! he is captive, and condemned to die at the rising of
the sun."

[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

THE MASQUERADER

_The grim head fell on one side, and in its place appeared the honest,
sturdy countenance of the scout_]

"I had misgivings that such would be his fate," resumed the scout, in a
less confident and joyous tone. But soon regaining his naturally firm
voice, he continued: "His bad fortune is the true reason of my being
here, for it would never do to abandon such a boy to the Hurons. A rare
time the knaves would have of it, could they tie The Bounding Elk and
The Long Carabine, as they call me, to the same stake! Though why they
have given me such a name I never knew, there being as little likeness
between the gifts of 'Killdeer,' and the performance of one of your real
Canada carabynes, as there is between the natur' of a pipe-stone and a
flint!"

"Keep to your tale," said the impatient Heyward; "we know not at what
moment the Hurons may return."

"No fear of them. A conjurer must have his time, like a straggling
priest in the settlements. We are as safe from interruption as a
missionary would be at the beginning of a two hours' discourse. Well,
Uncas and I fell in with a return party of the varlets; the lad was much
too forward for a scout; nay, for that matter, being of hot blood, he
was not so much to blame; and, after all, one of the Hurons proved a
coward, and in fleeing led him into an ambushment."

"And dearly has he paid for the weakness!"

The scout significantly passed his hand across his own throat, and
nodded, as if he said, "I comprehend your meaning." After which he
continued, in a more audible though scarcely more intelligible
language,--

"After the loss of the boy I turned upon the Hurons, as you may judge.
There have been scrimmages atween one or two of their outlyers and
myself; but that is neither here nor there. So, after I had shot the
imps, I got in pretty nigh to the lodges without further commotion. Then
what should luck do in my favor, but lead me to the very spot where one
of the most famous conjurers of the tribe was dressing himself, as I
well knew, for some great battle with Satan--though why should I call
that luck, which it now seems was an especial ordering of Providence! So
a judgmatical rap over the head stiffened the lying impostor for a time,
and leaving him a bit of walnut for his supper, to prevent an uproar,
and stringing him up atween two sapplings, I made free with his finery,
and took the part of the bear on myself, in order that the operations
might proceed."

"And admirably did you enact the character; the animal itself might have
been shamed by the representation."

"Lord, major," returned the flattered woodsman, "I should be but a poor
scholar for one who has studied so long in the wilderness, did I not
know how to set forth the movements and natur' of such a beast. Had it
been now a catamount, or even a full-sized panther, I would have
embellished a performance for you worth regarding. But it is no such
marvellous feat to exhibit the feats of so dull a beast; though, for
that matter too, a bear may be overacted. Yes, yes; it is not every
imitator that knows natur' may be outdone easier than she is equalled.
But all our work is yet before us: where is the gentle one?"

"Heaven knows; I have examined every lodge in the village, without
discovering the slightest trace of her presence in the tribe."

"You heard what the singer said, as he left us,--'She is at hand, and
expects you'?"

"I have been compelled to believe he alluded to this unhappy woman."

"The simpleton was frightened, and blundered through his message; but he
had a deeper meaning. Here are walls enough to separate the whole
settlement. A bear ought to climb; therefore will I take a look above
them. There may be honey-pots hid in these rocks, and I am a beast you
know, that has a hankering for the sweets."

The scout looked behind him, laughing at his own conceit, while he
clambered up the partition, imitating, as he went, the clumsy motions of
the beast he represented; but the instant the summit was gained he made
a gesture for silence, and slid down with the utmost precipitation.

"She is here," he whispered, "and by that door you will find her. I
would have spoken a word of comfort to the afflicted soul; but the sight
of such a monster might upset her reason. Though for that matter, major,
you are none of the most inviting yourself in your paint."

Duncan, who had already sprung eagerly forward, drew instantly back on
hearing these discouraging words.

"Am I, then, so very revolting?" he demanded, with an air of chagrin.

"You might not startle a wolf, or turn the Royal Americans from a
charge; but I have seen the time when you had a better-favored look;
your streaked countenances are not ill-judged of by the squaws, but
young women of white blood give the preference to their own color. See,"
he added, pointing to a place where the water trickled from a rock,
forming a little crystal spring before it found an issue through the
adjacent crevices; "you may easily get rid of the Sagamore's daub, and
when you come back I will try my hand at a new embellishment. It's as
common for a conjurer to alter his paint as for a buck in the
settlements to change his finery."

The deliberate woodsman had little occasion to hunt for arguments to
enforce his advice. He was yet speaking when Duncan availed himself of
the water. In a moment every frightful or offensive mark was
obliterated, and the youth appeared again in the lineaments with which
he had been gifted by nature. Thus prepared for an interview with his
mistress, he took a hasty leave of his companion, and disappeared
through the indicated passage. The scout witnessed his departure with
complacency, nodding his head after him, and muttering his good wishes;
after which he very coolly set about an examination of the state of the
larder, among the Hurons--the cavern, among other purposes, being used
as a receptacle for the fruits of their hunts.

Duncan had no other guide than a distant glimmering light, which served,
however, the office of a polar star to the lover. By its aid he was
enabled to enter the haven of his hopes, which was merely another
apartment of the cavern, that had been solely appropriated to the
safe-keeping of so important a prisoner as a daughter of the commandant
of William Henry. It was profusely strewed with the plunder of that
unlucky fortress. In the midst of this confusion he found her he sought,
pale, anxious, and terrified, but lovely. David had prepared her for
such a visit.

"Duncan!" she exclaimed, in a voice that seemed to tremble at the sounds
created by itself.

"Alice" he answered, leaping carelessly among trunks, boxes, arms, and
furniture, until he stood at her side.

"I knew that you would never desert me," she said, looking up with a
momentary glow on her otherwise dejected countenance. "But you are
alone! grateful as it is to be thus remembered, I could wish to think
you are not entirely alone."

Duncan, observing that she trembled in a manner which betrayed her
inability to stand, gently induced her to be seated, while he recounted
those leading incidents which it has been our task to record. Alice
listened with breathless interest; and though the young man touched
lightly on the sorrows of the stricken father, taking care, however, not
to wound the self-love of his auditor, the tears ran as freely down the
cheeks of the daughter as though she had never wept before. The soothing
tenderness of Duncan, however, soon quieted the first burst of her
emotions, and she then heard him to the close with undivided attention,
if not with composure.

"And now, Alice," he added, "you will see how much is still expected of
you. By the assistance of our experienced and invaluable friend, the
scout, we may find our way from this savage people, but you will have to
exert your utmost fortitude. Remember that you fly to the arms of your
venerable parent, and how much his happiness, as well as your own,
depends on those exertions."

"Can I do otherwise for a father who has done so much for me?"

"And for me too," continued the youth, gently pressing the hand he held
in both his own.

The look of innocence and surprise which he received in return convinced
Duncan of the necessity of being more explicit.

"This is neither the place nor the occasion to detain you with selfish
wishes," he added; "but what heart loaded like mine would not wish to
cast its burden? They say misery is the closest of all ties; our common
suffering in your behalf left but little to be explained between your
father and myself."

"And dearest Cora, Duncan; surely Cora was not forgotten?"

"Not forgotten! no; regretted, as woman was seldom mourned before. Your
venerable father knew no difference between his children; but I--Alice,
you will not be offended when I say, that to me her worth was in a
degree obscured--"

"Then you knew not the merit of my sister," said Alice, withdrawing her
hand; "of you she ever speaks as of one who is her nearest friend."

"I would gladly believe her such," returned Duncan, hastily; "I could
wish her to be even more; but with you, Alice, I have the permission of
your father to aspire to a still nearer and dearer tie."

Alice trembled violently, and there was an instant during which she bent
her face aside, yielding to the emotions common to her sex; but they
quickly passed away, leaving her mistress of her deportment, if not of
her affections.

"Heyward," she said, looking him full in the face with a touching
expression of innocence and dependency, "give me the sacred presence
and the holy sanction of that parent before you urge me further."

"Though more I should not, less I could not say," the youth was about to
answer, when he was interrupted by a light tap on his shoulder. Starting
to his feet, he turned, and, confronting the intruder, his looks fell on
the dark form and malignant visage of Magua. The deep guttural laugh of
the savage sounded, at such a moment, to Duncan like the hellish taunt
of a demon. Had he pursued the sudden and fierce impulse of the instant,
he would have cast himself on the Huron, and committed their fortunes to
the issue of a deadly struggle. But, without arms of any description,
ignorant of what succor his subtle enemy could command, and charged with
the safety of one who was just then dearer than ever to his heart, he no
sooner entertained than he abandoned the desperate intention.

"What is your purpose?" said Alice, meekly folding her arms on her
bosom, and struggling to conceal an agony of apprehension in behalf of
Heyward, in the usual cold and distant manner with which she received
the visits of her captor.

The exulting Indian had resumed his austere countenance, though he drew
warily back before the menacing glance of the young man's fiery eye. He
regarded both his captives for a moment with a steady look, and then
stepping aside, he dropped a log of wood across a door different from
that by which Duncan had entered. The latter now comprehended the manner
of his surprise, and believing himself irretrievably lost, he drew Alice
to his bosom, and stood prepared to meet a fate which he hardly
regretted, since it was to be suffered in such company. But Magua
meditated no immediate violence. His first measures were very evidently
taken to secure his new captive; nor did he even bestow a second glance
at the motionless forms in the centre of the cavern, until he had
completely cut off every hope of retreat through the private outlet he
had himself used. He was watched in all his movements by Heyward, who,
however, remained firm, still folding the fragile form of Alice to his
heart, at once too proud and too hopeless to ask favor of an enemy so
often foiled. When Magua had effected his object he approached his
prisoners, and said in English,--

"The pale-faces trap the cunning beavers; but the redskins know how to
take the Yengeese."

"Huron, do your worst!" exclaimed the excited Heyward, forgetful that a
double stake was involved in his life; "you and your vengeance are alike
despised."

"Will the white man speak these words at the stake?" asked Magua;
manifesting, at the same time, how little faith he had in the other's
resolution by the sneer that accompanied his words.

"Here; singly to your face, or in the presence of your nation."

"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief!" returned the Indian; "he will go
and bring his young men to see how bravely a pale-face can laugh at the
tortures."

He turned away while speaking, and was about to leave the place through
the avenue by which Duncan had approached, when a growl caught his ear,
and caused him to hesitate. The figure of the bear appeared in the door,
where it sat, rolling from side to side in its customary restlessness.
Magua, like the father of the sick woman, eyed it keenly for a moment,
as if to ascertain its character. He was far above the more vulgar
superstitions of his tribe, and so soon as he recognized the well-known
attire of the conjurer, he prepared to pass it in cool contempt. But a
louder and more threatening growl caused him again to pause. Then he
seemed as if suddenly resolved to trifle no longer, and moved resolutely
forward. The mimic animal, which had advanced a little, retired slowly
in his front, until it arrived again at the pass, when rearing on its
hinder legs it beat the air with its paws, in the manner practised by
its brutal prototype.

"Fool!" exclaimed the chief, in Huron, "go play with the children and
squaws; leave men to their wisdom."

He once more endeavored to pass the supposed empiric, scorning even the
parade of threatening to use the knife, or tomahawk, that was pendent
from his belt. Suddenly the beast extended its arms, or rather legs, and
inclosed him in a grasp that might have vied with the far-famed power of
the "bear's hug" itself. Heyward had watched the whole procedure, on the
part of Hawkeye, with breathless interest. At first he relinquished his
hold of Alice; then he caught up a thong of buckskin, which had been
used around some bundle, and when he beheld his enemy with his two arms
pinned to his side by the iron muscles of the scout, he rushed upon him,
and effectually secured them there. Arms, legs, and feet were encircled
in twenty folds of the thong, in less time than we have taken to record
the circumstance. When the formidable Huron was completely pinioned, the
scout released his hold, and Duncan laid his enemy on his back, utterly
helpless.

Throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordinary operation, Magua,
though he had struggled violently, until assured he was in the hands of
one whose nerves were far better strung than his own, had not uttered
the slightest exclamation. But when Hawkeye, by way of making a summary
explanation of his conduct, removed the shaggy jaws of the beast, and
exposed his own rugged and earnest countenance to the gaze of the Huron,
the philosophy of the latter was so far mastered as to permit him to
utter the never-failing,--

"Hugh!"

"Ay! you've found your tongue," said his undisturbed conqueror; "now, in
order that you shall not use it to our ruin, I must make free to stop
your mouth."

As there was no time to be lost, the scout immediately set about
effecting so necessary a precaution; and when he had gagged the Indian,
his enemy might safely have been considered as _hors de combat_.

"By what place did the imp enter?" asked the industrious scout, when his
work was ended. "Not a soul has passed my way since you left me."

Duncan pointed out the door by which Magua had come, and which now
presented too many obstacles to a quick retreat.

"Bring on the gentle one, then," continued his friend; "we must make a
push for the woods by the other outlet."

"'Tis impossible!" said Duncan; "fear has overcome her, and she is
helpless. Alice! my sweet, my own Alice, arouse yourself; now is the
moment to fly. 'Tis in vain! she hears, but is unable to follow. Go,
noble and worthy friend; save yourself, and leave me to my fate!"

"Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings its lesson!"
returned the scout. "There, wrap her in them Indian cloths. Conceal all
of her little form. Nay, that foot has no fellow in the wilderness; it
will betray her. All, every part. Now take her in your arms, and follow.
Leave the rest to me."

Duncan, as may be gathered from the words of his companion, was eagerly
obeying; and as the other finished speaking, he took the light person of
Alice in his arms, and followed on the footsteps of the scout. They
found the sick woman as they had left her, still alone, and passed
swiftly on, by the natural gallery, to the place of entrance. As they
approached the little door of bark, a murmur of voices without announced
that the friends and relatives of the invalid were gathered about the
place, patiently awaiting a summons to re-enter.

"If I open my lips to speak," Hawkeye whispered, "my English, which is
the genuine tongue of a white-skin, will tell the varlets that an enemy
is among them. You must give 'em your jargon, major; and say that we
have shut the evil spirit in the cave, and are taking the woman to the
woods in order to find strengthening roots. Practyse all your cunning,
for it is a lawful undertaking."

The door opened a little, as if one without was listening to the
proceedings within, and compelled the scout to cease his directions. A
fierce growl repelled the eavesdropper, and then the scout boldly threw
open the covering of bark, and left the place, enacting the character of
the bear as he proceeded. Duncan kept close at his heels, and so found
himself in the centre of a cluster of twenty anxious relatives and
friends.

The crowd fell back a little, and permitted the father, and one who
appeared to be the husband of the woman, to approach.

"Has my brother driven away the evil spirit?" demanded the former. "What
has he in his arms?"

"Thy child," returned Duncan, gravely; "the disease has gone out of her;
it is shut up in the rocks. I take the woman to a distance, where I will
strengthen her against any further attacks. She shall be in the wigwam
of the young man when the sun comes again."

When the father had translated the meaning of the stranger's words into
the Huron language, a suppressed murmur announced the satisfaction with
which the intelligence was received. The chief himself waved his hand
for Duncan to proceed, saying aloud, in a firm voice, and with a lofty
manner,--

"Go; I am a man, and I will enter the rock and fight the wicked one."

Heyward had gladly obeyed, and was already past the little group, when
these startling words arrested him.

"Is my brother mad?" he exclaimed; "is he cruel! He will meet the
disease, and it will enter him; or he will drive out the disease, and it
will chase his daughter into the woods. No; let my children wait
without, and if the spirit appears beat him down with clubs. He is
cunning, and will bury himself in the mountain, when he sees how many
are ready to fight him."

This singular warning had the desired effect. Instead of entering the
cavern, the father and husband drew their tomahawks, and posted
themselves in readiness to deal their vengeance on the imaginary
tormentor of their sick relative, while the women and children broke
branches from the bushes, or seized fragments of the rock, with a
similar intention. At this favorable moment the counterfeit conjurers
disappeared.

Hawkeye, at the same time that he had presumed so far on the nature of
the Indian superstitions, was not ignorant that they were rather
tolerated than relied on by the wisest of the chiefs. He well knew the
value of time in the present emergency. Whatever might be the extent of
the self-delusion of his enemies, and however it had tended to assist
his schemes, the slightest cause of suspicion, acting on the subtle
nature of an Indian, would be likely to prove fatal. Taking the path,
therefore, that was most likely to avoid observation, he rather skirted
than entered the village. The warriors were still to be seen in the
distance, by the fading light of the fires, stalking from lodge to
lodge. But the children had abandoned their sports for their beds of
skins, and the quiet of night was already beginning to prevail over the
turbulence and excitement of so busy and important an evening.

Alice revived under the renovating influence of the open air, and as her
physical rather than her mental powers had been the subject of weakness,
she stood in no need of any explanation of that which had occurred.

"Now let me make an effort to walk," she said, when they had entered the
forest, blushing, though unseen, that she had not been sooner able to
quit the arms of Duncan; "I am indeed restored."

"Nay, Alice, you are yet too weak."

The maiden struggled gently to release herself, and Heyward was
compelled to part with his precious burden. The representative of the
bear had certainly been an entire stranger to the delicious emotions of
the lover while his arms encircled his mistress; and he was, perhaps, a
stranger also to the nature of that feeling of ingenuous shame that
oppressed the trembling Alice. But when he found himself at a suitable
distance from the lodges he made a halt, and spoke on a subject of which
he was thoroughly the master.

"This path will lead you to the brook," he said; "follow its northern
bank until you come to a fall; and mount the hill on your right, and you
will see the fires of the other people. There you must go and demand
protection; if they are true Delawares, you will be safe. A distant
flight with that gentle one, just now, is impossible. The Hurons would
follow up our trail, and master our scalps, before we had got a dozen
miles. Go, and Providence be with you."

"And you!" demanded Heyward, in surprise; "surely we part not here?"

"The Hurons hold the pride of the Delawares; the last of the high blood
of the Mohicans is in their power," returned the scout; "I go to see
what can be done in his favor. Had they mastered your scalp, major, a
knave should have fallen for every hair it held, as I promised; but if
the young Sagamore is to be led to the stake, the Indians shall see also
how a man without a cross can die."

Not in the least offended with the decided preference that the sturdy
woodsman gave to one who might, in some degree, be called the child of
his adoption, Duncan still continued to urge such reasons against so
desperate an effort as presented themselves. He was aided by Alice, who
mingled her entreaties with those of Heyward that he would abandon a
resolution that promised so much danger, with so little hope of success.
Their eloquence and ingenuity were expended in vain. The scout heard
them attentively, but impatiently, and finally closed the discussion, by
answering, in a tone that instantly silenced Alice, while it told
Heyward how fruitless any further remonstrances would be,--

"I have heard," he said, "that there is a feeling in youth which binds
man to woman closer than the father is tied to the son. It may be so. I
have seldom been where women of my color dwell; but such may be the
gifts of nature in the settlements. You have risked life, and all that
is dear to you, to bring off this gentle one, and I suppose that some
such disposition is at the bottom of it all. As for me, I taught the lad
the real character of a rifle; and well has he paid me for it. I have
fou't at his side in many a bloody scrimmage; and so long as I could
hear the crack of his piece in one ear, and that of the Sagamore in the
other, I knew no enemy was on my back. Winters and summers, nights and
days, have we roved the wilderness in company, eating of the same dish,
one sleeping while the other watched; and afore it shall be said that
Uncas was taken to the torment, and I at hand--There is but a single
Ruler of us all, whatever may be the color of the skin; and Him I call
to witness, that before the Mohican boy shall perish for the want of a
friend, good faith shall depart the 'arth, and 'Killdeer' become as
harmless as the tooting we'pon of the singer!"

[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

THE LOVERS

_Heyward and Alice took their way together towards the distant village
of the Delawares_]

Duncan released his hold on the arm of the scout, who turned, and
steadily retraced his steps towards the lodges. After pausing a moment
to gaze at his retiring form, the successful and yet sorrowful Heyward,
and Alice, took their way together towards the distant village of the
Delawares.

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

completion: Heyward wonders at Gamut's cryptic words but cannot think further on them because the chief sends away the women, turns toward his insensible daughter, and says, "Now let my brother show his power." After the bear growls fiercely three times and the Huron superstitiously leaves, the former removes its head to reveal Hawkeye underneath. The scout tells that he has placed Munro and Chingachgook in an old beaver lodge and that, after Uncas' capture, he trussed up the tribal conjurer and donned the Indian's bearskin. Now climbing up to investigate further apartments of the cavern, he sees Alice and quietly slides back down. With water trickling nearby, Heyward washes off his paint so as not to frighten the girl, then climbs up to her, brings her up to date on events, and, in spite of their predicament, brings a look of innocence and surprise to her face by touching briefly on his feelings for her. A tap on his shoulder reveals the malign presence of Magua, who has entered by another door, which he bars and begins to taunt his captives. The growling bear appears, and Magua, recognizing it as the conjurer in whom he does not believe, brushes by it but is caught in an iron hug. They tie and gag the villain and, since Alice is stupefied, Heyward wraps her in the squaw's clothes and takes her in his arms. Outside, where the squaw's relatives wait, the major says that he has shut the evil spirit in the cave and they are taking the woman to the woods to find healing herbs. The relatives are not to enter but to guard the door and beat the spirit back if it tries to escape. In the forest, Alice revives and Hawkeye directs them toward the village of the Delawares. He will stay to help Uncas. They try to dissuade him from so hopeless an effort, but he determinedly leaves them and moves back toward the Huron lodges.