prompt:
Chapter: "_Ant._ I shall remember:
  When Caesar says _Do this_, it is performed."

  _Julius Caesar._

The impatience of the savages who lingered about the prison of Uncas, as
has been seen, had overcome their dread of the conjurer's breath. They
stole cautiously, and with beating hearts, to a crevice, through which
the faint light of the fire was glimmering. For several minutes they
mistook the form of David for that of their prisoner; but the very
accident which Hawkeye had foreseen occurred. Tired of keeping the
extremities of his long person so near together, the singer gradually
suffered the lower limbs to extend themselves, until one of his
misshapen feet actually came in contact with and shoved aside the embers
of the fire. At first the Hurons believed the Delaware had been thus
deformed by witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of being observed,
turned his head, and exposed his simple, mild countenance, in place of
the haughty lineaments of their prisoner, it would have exceeded the
credulity of even a native to have doubted any longer. They rushed
together into the lodge, and laying their hands, with but little
ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected the imposition. Then
arose the cry first heard by the fugitives. It was succeeded by the most
frantic and angry demonstrations of vengeance. David, however firm in
his determination to cover the retreat of his friends, was compelled to
believe that his own final hour had come. Deprived of his book and his
pipe, he was fain to trust to a memory that rarely failed him on such
subjects; and breaking forth in a loud and impassioned strain, he
endeavored to soothe his passage into the other world, by singing the
opening verse of a funeral anthem. The Indians were seasonably reminded
of his infirmity, and rushing into the open air, they aroused the
village in the manner described.

A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the protection of anything
defensive. The sounds of the alarm were, therefore, hardly uttered,
before two hundred men were afoot, and ready for the battle or the
chase, as either might be required. The escape was soon known; and the
whole tribe crowded, in a body, around the council-lodge, impatiently
awaiting the instruction of their chiefs. In such a sudden demand on
their wisdom, the presence of the cunning Magua could scarcely fail of
being needed. His name was mentioned, and all looked round in wonder
that he did not appear. Messengers were then despatched to his lodge,
requiring his presence.

In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most discreet of the young men
were ordered to make the circuit of the clearing, under cover of the
woods, in order to ascertain that their suspected neighbors, the
Delawares, designed no mischief. Women and children ran to and fro; and
in short, the whole encampment exhibited another scene of wild and
savage confusion. Gradually, however, these symptoms of disorder
diminished; and in a few minutes the oldest and most distinguished
chiefs were assembled in the lodge, in grave consultation.

The clamor of many voices soon announced that a party approached, who
might be expected to communicate some intelligence that would explain
the mystery of the novel surprise. The crowd without gave way, and
several warriors entered the place, bringing with them the hapless
conjurer, who had been left so long by the scout in duress.

Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal estimation among the
Hurons, some believing implicitly in his power, and others deeming him
an impostor, he was now listened to by all with the deepest attention.
When his brief story was ended, the father of the sick woman stepped
forth, and, in a few pithy expressions, related, in his turn, what he
knew. These two narratives gave a proper direction to the subsequent
inquiries, which were now made with the characteristic cunning of
savages.

Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng to the cavern,
ten of the wisest and firmest among the chiefs were selected to
prosecute the investigation. As no time was to be lost, the instant the
choice was made the individuals appointed rose in a body, and left the
place without speaking. On reaching the entrance, the younger men in
advance made way for their seniors; and the whole proceeded along the
low, dark gallery, with the firmness of warriors ready to devote
themselves to the public good, though, at the same time, secretly
doubting the nature of the power with which they were about to contend.

The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and gloomy. The woman lay
in her usual place and posture, though there were those present who
affirmed they had seen her borne to the woods, by the supposed "medicine
of the white men." Such a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale
related by the father, caused all eyes to be turned on him. Chafed by
the silent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so unaccountable a
circumstance, the chief advanced to the side of the bed, and stooping,
cast an incredulous look at the features, as if distrusting their
reality. His daughter was dead.

The unerring feeling of nature, for a moment prevailed, and the old
warrior hid his eyes in sorrow. Then recovering his self-possession, he
faced his companions, and pointing towards the corpse, he said, in the
language of his people,--

"The wife of my young man has left us! the Great Spirit is angry with
his children."

The mournful intelligence was received in solemn silence. After a short
pause, one of the elder Indians was about to speak, when a dark-looking
object was seen rolling out of an adjoining apartment, into the very
centre of the room where they stood. Ignorant of the nature of the
beings they had to deal with, the whole party drew back a little, and
gazed in admiration, until the object fronted the light, and rising on
end, exhibited the distorted, but still fierce and sullen features of
Magua. The discovery was succeeded by a general exclamation of
amazement.

As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief was understood,
several ready knives appeared, and his limbs and tongue were quickly
released. The Huron arose, and shook himself like a lion quitting his
lair. Not a word escaped him, though his hand played convulsively with
the handle of his knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole
party, as if they sought an object suited to the first burst of his
vengeance.

It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even David, that they were all
beyond the reach of his arm at such a moment; for, assuredly, no
refinement in cruelty would then have deferred their deaths, in
opposition to the promptings of the fierce temper that nearly choked
him. Meeting everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the savage grated
his teeth together like rasps of iron, and swallowed his passion for
want of a victim on whom to vent it. This exhibition of anger was noted
by all present; and, from an apprehension of exasperating a temper that
was already chafed nearly to madness, several minutes were suffered to
pass before another word was uttered. When, however, suitable time had
elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.

"My friend has found an enemy," he said. "Is he nigh, that the Hurons
may take revenge?"

"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of thunder.

Another long and expressive silence was observed, and was broken, as
before, with due precaution, by the same individual.

"The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far," he said; "but my young
men are on his trail."

"Is he gone?" demanded Magua, in tones so deep and guttural, that they
seemed to proceed from his inmost chest.

"An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware has blinded our
eyes."

"An evil spirit!" repeated the other, mockingly; "'tis the spirit that
has taken the lives of so many Hurons; the spirit that slew my young men
at 'the tumbling river'; that took their scalps at the 'healing spring';
and who has now bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil!"

"Of whom does my friend speak?"

"Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a Huron under a pale
skin--La Longue Carabine."

The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the usual effect among
his auditors. But when time was given for reflection, and the warriors
remembered that their formidable and daring enemy had even been in the
bosom of their encampment, working injury, fearful rage took the place
of wonder, and all those fierce passions with which the bosom of Magua
had just been struggling were suddenly transferred to his companions.
Some among them gnashed their teeth in anger, others vented their
feelings in yells, and some, again beat the air as frantically as if the
object of their resentment were suffering under their blows. But this
sudden outbreaking of temper as quickly subsided in the still and sullen
restraint they most affected, in their moments of inaction.

Magua who had in his turn found leisure for reflection, now changed his
manner, and assumed the air of one who knew how to think and act with a
dignity worthy of so grave a subject.

"Let us go to my people," he said; "they wait for us."

His companions consented in silence, and the whole of the savage party
left the cavern and returned to the council-lodge. When they were
seated, all eyes turned on Magua, who understood, from such an
indication, that, by common consent, they had devolved the duty of
relating what had passed on him. He arose, and told his tale without
duplicity or reservation. The whole deception practised by both Duncan
and Hawkeye was, of course, laid naked; and no room was found, even for
the most superstitious of the tribe, any longer to affix a doubt on the
character of the occurrences. It was but too apparent that they had been
insultingly, shamefully, disgracefully deceived. When he had ended, and
resumed his seat, the collected tribe--for his auditors, in substance,
included all the fighting men of the party--sat regarding each other
like men astonished equally at the audacity and the success of their
enemies. The next consideration, however, was the means and
opportunities for revenge.

Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the fugitives; and then
the chiefs applied themselves, in earnest, to the business of
consultation. Many different expedients were proposed by the elder
warriors, in succession, to all of which Magua was a silent and
respectful listener. That subtle savage had recovered his artifice and
self-command, and now proceeded towards his object with his customary
caution and skill. It was only when each one disposed to speak had
uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to advance his own opinions.
They were given with additional weight from the circumstance that some
of the runners had already returned, and reported that their enemies had
been traced so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought safety in
the neighboring camp of their suspected allies, the Delawares. With the
advantage of possessing this important intelligence, the chief warily
laid his plans before his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated
from his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without a dissenting
voice. They were, briefly, as follows, both in opinions and in motives.

It has been already stated that, in obedience to a policy rarely
departed from, the sisters were separated so soon as they reached the
Huron village. Magua had early discovered that in retaining the person
of Alice, he possessed the most effectual check on Cora. When they
parted, therefore, he kept the former within reach of his hand,
consigning the one he most valued to the keeping of their allies. The
arrangement was understood to be merely temporary, and was made as much
with a view to flatter his neighbors as in obedience to the invariable
rule of Indian policy.

While goaded incessantly by those revengeful impulses that in a savage
seldom slumber, the chief was still attentive to his more permanent
personal interests. The follies and disloyalty committed in his youth
were to be expiated by a long and painful penance, ere he could be
restored to the full enjoyment of the confidence of his ancient people;
and without confidence, there could be no authority in an Indian tribe.
In this delicate and arduous situation, the crafty native had neglected
no means of increasing his influence; and one of the happiest of his
expedients had been the success with which he had cultivated the favor
of their powerful and dangerous neighbors. The result of his experiment
had answered all the expectations of his policy; for the Hurons were in
no degree exempt from that governing principle of nature, which induces
man to value his gifts precisely in the degree that they are appreciated
by others.

But, while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to general
considerations, Magua never lost sight of his individual motives. The
latter had been frustrated by the unlooked-for events which had placed
all his prisoners beyond his control; and he now found himself reduced
to the necessity of suing for favors to those whom it had so lately been
his policy to oblige.

Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacherous schemes to
surprise the Delawares, and, by gaining possession of their camp, to
recover their prisoners by the same blow; for all agreed that their
honor, their interests, and the peace and happiness of their dead
countrymen, imperiously required them speedily to immolate some victims
to their revenge. But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of such
doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in defeating. He exposed
their risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and it was only after he
had removed every impediment, in the shape of opposing advice, that he
ventured to propose his own projects.

He commenced by flattering the self-love of his auditors; a
never-failing method of commanding attention. When he had enumerated the
many different occasions on which the Hurons had exhibited their courage
and prowess, in the punishment of insults, he digressed in a high
encomium on the virtue of wisdom. He painted the quality, as forming the
great point of difference between the beaver and other brutes; between
brutes and men; and, finally, between the Hurons, in particular, and
the rest of the human race. After he had sufficiently extolled the
property of discretion, he undertook to exhibit in what manner its use
was applicable to the present situation of their tribe. On the one hand,
he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the Canadas, who
had looked upon his children with a hard eye since their tomahawks had
been so red; on the other, a people as numerous as themselves, who spoke
a different language, possessed different interests, and loved them not,
and who would be glad of any pretence to bring them in disgrace with the
great white chief. Then he spoke of their necessities; of the gifts they
had a right to expect for their past services; of their distance from
their proper hunting-grounds and native villages; and of the necessity
of consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in so critical
circumstances. When he perceived that, while the old men applauded his
moderation, many of the fiercest and most distinguished of the warriors
listened to these politic plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led
them back to the subject which they most loved. He spoke openly of the
fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would be a complete
and final triumph over their enemies. He even darkly hinted that their
success might be extended, with proper caution, in such a manner as to
include the destruction of all whom they had reason to hate. In short,
he so blended the warlike with the artful, the obvious with the obscure,
as to flatter the propensities of both parties, and to leave to each
subject of hope, while neither could say it clearly comprehended his
intentions.

The orator, or the politician, who can produce such a state of things,
is commonly popular with his contemporaries, however he may be treated
by posterity. All perceived that more was meant than was uttered, and
each one believed that the hidden meaning was precisely such as his own
faculties enabled him to understand, or his own wishes led him to
anticipate.

In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that the management
of Magua prevailed. The tribe consented to act with deliberation, and
with one voice they committed the direction of the whole affair to the
government of the chief who had suggested such wise and intelligible
expedients.

Magua had now attained one great object of all his cunning and
enterprise. The ground he had lost in the favor of his people was
completely regained, and he found himself even placed at the head of
affairs. He was, in truth, their ruler; and, so long as he could
maintain his popularity, no monarch could be more despotic, especially
while the tribe continued in a hostile country. Throwing off, therefore,
the appearance of consultation, he assumed the grave air of authority
necessary to support the dignity of his office.

Runners were despatched for intelligence in different directions; spies
were ordered to approach and feel the encampment of the Delawares; the
warriors were dismissed to their lodges, with an intimation that their
services would soon be needed; and the women and children were ordered
to retire, with a warning that it was their province to be silent. When
these several arrangements were made, Magua passed through the village,
stopping here and there to pay a visit where he thought his presence
might be flattering to the individual. He confirmed his friends in their
confidence, fixed the wavering, and gratified all. Then he sought his
own lodge. The wife the Huron chief had abandoned, when he was chased
from among his people, was dead. Children he had none; and he now
occupied a hut, without companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the
dilapidated and solitary structure in which David had been discovered,
and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on those few occasions when
they met, with the contemptuous indifference of a haughty superiority.

Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy were ended. While
others slept, however, he neither knew nor sought repose. Had there been
one sufficiently curious to have watched the movements of the newly
elected chief, he would have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge,
musing on the subject of his future plans, from the hour of his
retirement to the time he had appointed for the warriors to assemble
again. Occasionally the air breathed through the crevices of the hut,
and the low flames that fluttered about the embers of the fire threw
their wavering light on the person of the sullen recluse. At such
moments it would not have been difficult to have fancied the dusky
savage the Prince of Darkness, brooding on his own fancied wrongs, and
plotting evil.

Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after warrior entered the
solitary hut of Magua, until they had collected to the number of twenty.
Each bore his rifle, and all the other accoutrements of war, though the
paint was uniformly peaceful. The entrance of these fierce-looking
beings was unnoticed; some seating themselves in the shadows of the
place, and others standing like motionless statues, until the whole of
the designated band was collected.

Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, marching himself in
advance. They followed their leader singly, and in that well-known order
which has obtained the distinguishing appellation of "Indian file."
Unlike other men engaged in the spirit-stirring business of war, they
stole from their camp unostentatiously and unobserved, resembling a band
of gliding spectres, more than warriors seeking the bubble reputation by
deeds of desperate daring.

Instead of taking the path which led directly towards the camp of the
Delawares, Magua led his party for some distance down the windings of
the stream, and along the little artificial lake of the beavers. The day
began to dawn as they entered the clearing which had been formed by
those sagacious and industrious animals. Though Magua, who had resumed
his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox on the dressed skin which
formed his robe, there was one chief of his party who carried the beaver
as his peculiar symbol, or "totem." There would have been a species of
profanity in the omission, had this man passed so powerful a community
of his fancied kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his regard.
Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as kind and friendly as if he
were addressing more intelligent beings. He called the animals his
cousins, and reminded them that his protecting influence was the reason
they remained unharmed, while so many avaricious traders were prompting
the Indians to take their lives. He promised a continuance of his
favors, and admonished them to be grateful. After which, he spoke of the
expedition in which he was himself engaged, and intimated, though with
sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency of bestowing on
their relative a portion of that wisdom for which they were so
renowned.[24]

During the utterance of this extraordinary address, the companions of
the speaker were as grave and as attentive to his language as though
they were all equally impressed with its propriety. Once or twice black
objects were seen rising to the surface of the water, and the Huron
expressed pleasure, conceiving that his words were not bestowed in
vain. Just as he had ended his address, the head of a large beaver was
thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen walls had been much
injured, and which the party had believed, from its situation, to be
uninhabited. Such an extraordinary sign of confidence was received by
the orator as a highly favorable omen; and though the animal retreated a
little precipitately, he was lavish of his thanks and commendations.

When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost in gratifying the
family affection of the warrior, he again made the signal to proceed. As
the Indians moved away in a body, and with a step that would have been
inaudible to the ears of any common man, the same venerable-looking
beaver once more ventured his head from its cover. Had any of the Hurons
turned to look behind them, they would have seen the animal watching
their movements with an interest and sagacity that might easily have
been mistaken for reason. Indeed, so very distinct and intelligible were
the devices of the quadruped, that even the most experienced observer
would have been at a loss to account for its actions, until the moment
when the party entered the forest, when the whole would have been
explained, by seeing the entire animal issue from the lodge, uncasing,
by the act, the grave features of Chingachgook from his mask of fur.

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

completion: The Huron warriors descend upon the man they think is Uncas, although the man they attack is actually Gamut in disguise. Gamut begins to sing wildly, and the Hurons draw back in confusion. The Hurons discover the sick woman, now dead, in the cavern, along with the bound Magua. They release Magua, and he explains how Hawkeye tricked them. The Hurons, now furious, debate what to do. The wily Magua persuades them to act cautiously, and they agree to follow his judgment. The Hurons again trust Magua's intuition and passion and grant him primary leadership power. Magua leads twenty warriors toward the Delaware camp. On the way, a chief whose totem is the beaver passes the beaver pond, where he stops for a moment to speak to his animals. A very large beaver pops its head out of a dam, which pleases the chief. After the chief passes by, the beaver removes its head to reveal Chingachgook


prompt:
Chapter: "Brief, I pray you; for you see, 'tis a busy time with me."

  _Much Ado About Nothing._

The tribe, or rather half tribe, of Delawares, which has been so often
mentioned, and whose present place of encampment was so nigh the
temporary village of the Hurons, could assemble about an equal number of
warriors with the latter people. Like their neighbors, they had followed
Montcalm into the territories of the English crown, and were making
heavy and serious inroads on the hunting-grounds of the Mohawks; though
they had seen fit, with the mysterious reserve so common among the
natives, to withhold their assistance at the moment when it was most
required. The French had accounted for this unexpected defection on the
part of their ally in various ways. It was the prevalent opinion,
however, that they had been influenced by veneration for the ancient
treaty, that had once made them dependent on the Six Nations for
military protection, and now rendered them reluctant to encounter their
former masters. As for the tribe itself, it had been content to announce
to Montcalm, through his emissaries, with Indian brevity, that their
hatchets were dull, and time was necessary to sharpen them. The politic
captain of the Canadas had deemed it wiser to submit to entertain a
passive friend, than by any acts of ill-judged severity to convert him
into an open enemy.

On that morning when Magua led his silent party from the settlement of
the beavers into the forest, in the manner described, the sun rose upon
the Delaware encampment as if it had suddenly burst upon a busy people,
actively employed in all the customary avocations of high noon. The
women ran from lodge to lodge, some engaged in preparing their morning's
meal, a few earnestly bent on seeking the comforts necessary to their
habits, but more pausing to exchange hasty and whispered sentences with
their friends. The warriors were lounging in groups, musing more than
they conversed; and when a few words were uttered, speaking like men who
deeply weighed their opinions. The instruments of the chase were to be
seen in abundance among the lodges; but none departed. Here and there a
warrior was examining his arms, with an attention that is rarely
bestowed on the implements, when no other enemy than the beasts of the
forest is expected to be encountered. And, occasionally, the eyes of a
whole group were turned simultaneously towards a large and silent lodge
in the centre of the village, as if it contained the subject of their
common thoughts.

During the existence of this scene, a man suddenly appeared at the
farthest extremity of a platform of rock which formed the level of the
village. He was without arms, and his paint tended rather to soften than
increase the natural sternness of his austere countenance. When in full
view of the Delawares he stopped, and made a gesture of amity, by
throwing his arm upward towards heaven, and then letting it fall
impressively on his breast. The inhabitants of the village answered his
salute by a low murmur of welcome, and encouraged him to advance by
similar indications of friendship. Fortified by these assurances, the
dark figure left the brow of the natural rocky terrace, where it had
stood a moment, drawn in a strong outline against the blushing morning
sky, and moved with dignity into the very centre of the huts. As he
approached, nothing was audible but the rattling of the light silver
ornaments that loaded his arms and neck, and the tinkling of the little
bells that fringed his deer-skin moccasins. He made, as he advanced,
many courteous signs of greeting to the men he passed, neglecting to
notice the women, however, like one who deemed their favor, in the
present enterprise, of no importance. When he had reached the group in
which it was evident, by the haughtiness of their common mien, that the
principal chiefs were collected, the stranger paused, and then the
Delawares saw that the active and erect form that stood before them was
that of the well-known Huron chief, Le Renard Subtil.

His reception was grave, silent, and wary. The warriors in front stepped
aside, opening the way to their most approved orator by the action; one
who spoke all those languages that were cultivated among the northern
aborigines.

"The wise Huron is welcome," said the Delaware, in the language of the
Maquas; "he is come to eat his 'succotash,'[25] with his brothers of the
lakes."

"He is come," repeated Magua, bending his head with the dignity of an
Eastern prince.

The chief extended his arm, and taking the other by the wrist, they once
more exchanged friendly salutations. Then the Delaware invited his guest
to enter his own lodge, and share his morning meal. The invitation was
accepted; and the two warriors, attended by three or four of the old
men, walked calmly away, leaving the rest of the tribe devoured by a
desire to understand the reasons of so unusual a visit, and yet not
betraying the least impatience by sign or word.

During the short and frugal repast that followed, the conversation was
extremely circumspect, and related entirely to the events of the hunt in
which Magua had so lately been engaged. It would have been impossible
for the most finished breeding to wear more of the appearance of
considering the visit as a matter of course, than did his hosts,
notwithstanding every individual present was perfectly aware that it
must be connected with some secret object, and that probably of
importance to themselves. When the appetites of the whole were appeased,
the squaws removed the trenchers and gourd, and the two parties began to
prepare themselves for a subtle trial of their wits.

"Is the face of my great Canada father turned again towards his Huron
children?" demanded the orator of the Delawares.

"When was it ever otherwise?" returned Magua. "He calls my people 'most
beloved.'"

The Delaware gravely bowed his acquiescence to what he knew to be false,
and continued,--

"The tomahawks of your young men have been very red."

"It is so; but they are now bright and dull; for the Yengeese are dead,
and the Delawares are our neighbors."

The other acknowledged the pacific compliment by a gesture of the hand,
and remained silent. Then Magua, as if recalled to such a recollection,
by the allusion to the massacre, demanded,--

"Does my prisoner give trouble to my brothers?"

"She is welcome."

"The path between the Hurons and the Delawares is short, and it is open;
let her be sent to my squaws, if she gives trouble to my brother."

"She is welcome," returned the chief of the latter nation, still more
emphatically.

The baffled Magua continued silent several minutes, apparently
indifferent, however, to the repulse he had received in this his open
effort to gain possession of Cora.

"Do my young men leave the Delawares room on the mountains for their
hunts?" he at length continued.

"The Lenape are rulers of their own hills," returned the other, a little
haughtily.

"It is well. Justice is the master of a redskin! Why should they
brighten their tomahawks, and sharpen their knives against each other?
Are not the pale-faces thicker than the swallows in the season of
flowers?"

"Good!" exclaimed two or three of his auditors at the same time.

Magua waited a little, to permit his words to soften the feelings of the
Delawares, before he added,--

"Have there not been strange moccasins in the woods? Have not my
brothers scented the feet of white men?"

"Let my Canada father come," returned the other evasively; "his children
are ready to see him."

"When the great chief comes, it is to smoke with the Indians in their
wigwams. The Hurons say, too, he is welcome. But the Yengeese have long
arms, and legs that never tire! My young men dreamed they had seen the
trail of the Yengeese nigh the village of the Delawares?"

"They will not find the Lenape asleep."

"It is well. The warrior whose eye is open can see his enemy," said
Magua, once more shifting his ground, when he found himself unable to
penetrate the caution of his companion. "I have brought gifts to my
brother. His nation would not go on the war-path because they did not
think it well; but their friends have remembered where they lived."

When he had thus announced his liberal intention, the crafty chief
arose, and gravely spread his presents before the dazzled eyes of his
hosts. They consisted principally of trinkets of little value, plundered
from the slaughtered females of William Henry. In the division of the
baubles the cunning Huron discovered no less art than in their
selection. While he bestowed those of greater value on the two most
distinguished warriors, one of whom was his host, he seasoned his
offerings to their inferiors with such well-timed and apposite
compliments, as left them no grounds of complaint. In short, the whole
ceremony contained such a happy blending of the profitable with the
flattering, that it was not difficult for the donor immediately to read
the effect of a generosity so aptly mingled with praise, in the eyes of
those he addressed.

This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of Magua was not without
instantaneous results. The Delawares lost their gravity in a much more
cordial expression; and the host, in particular, after contemplating his
own liberal share of the spoil for some moments with peculiar
gratification, repeated with strong emphasis, the words,--

"My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome!"

"The Hurons love their friends the Delawares," returned Magua. "Why
should they not? they are colored by the same sun, and their just men
will hunt in the same grounds after death. The redskins should be
friends, and look with open eyes on the white men. Has not my brother
scented spies in the woods?"

The Delaware, whose name in English signified "Hard Heart," an
appellation that the French had translated into "Le Coeur-dur," forgot
the obduracy of purpose, which had probably obtained him so significant
a title. His countenance grew very sensibly less stern, and now deigned
to answer more directly.

"There have been strange moccasins about my camp. They have been tracked
into my lodges."

"Did my brother beat out the dogs?" asked Magua, without adverting in
any manner to the former equivocation of the chief.

"It would not do. The stranger is always welcome to the children of the
Lenape."

"The stranger, but not the spy."

"Would the Yengeese send their women as spies? Did not the Huron chief
say he took women in the battle?"

"He told no lie. The Yengeese have sent out their scouts. They have been
in my wigwams, but they found there no one to say welcome. Then they
fled to the Delawares--for, say they, the Delawares are our friends;
their minds are turned from their Canada father!"

This insinuation was a home thrust, and one that in a more advanced
state of society, would have entitled Magua to the reputation of a
skilful diplomatist. The recent defection of the tribe had, as they well
knew themselves, subjected the Delawares to much reproach among their
French allies; and they were now made to feel that their future actions
were to be regarded with jealousy and distrust. There was no deep
insight into causes and effects necessary to foresee that such a
situation of things was likely to prove highly prejudicial to their
future movements. Their distant villages, their hunting-grounds, and
hundreds of their women and children, together with a material part of
their physical force, were actually within the limits of the French
territory. Accordingly, this alarming annunciation was received, as
Magua intended, with manifest disapprobation, if not with alarm.

"Let my father look in my face," said Le Coeur-dur; "he will see no
change. It is true, my young men did not go out on the war-path; they
had dreams for not doing so. But they love and venerate the great white
chief."

"Will he think so when he hears that his greatest enemy is fed in the
camp of his children? When he is told a bloody Yengee smokes at your
fire? That the pale-face who has slain so many of his friends goes in
and out among the Delawares? Go! my great Canada father is not a fool!"

"Where is the Yengee that the Delawares fear?" returned the other; "who
has slain my young men? who is the mortal enemy of my Great Father!"

"La Longue Carabine."

The Delaware warriors started at the well-known name, betraying, by
their amazement, that they now learnt, for the first time, one so famous
among the Indian allies of France was within their power.

"What does my brother mean?" demanded Le Coeur-dur, in a tone that, by
its wonder, far exceeded the usual apathy of his race.

"A Huron never lies!" returned Magua coldly, leaning his head against
the side of the lodge, and drawing his slight robe across his tawny
breast. "Let the Delawares count their prisoners; they will find one
whose skin is neither red nor pale."

A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief consulted apart with his
companions, and messengers were despatched to collect certain others of
the most distinguished men of the tribe.

As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made acquainted, in
turn, with the important intelligence that Magua had just communicated.
The air of surprise, and the usual low, deep, guttural exclamation, were
common to them all. The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole
encampment became powerfully agitated. The women suspended their
labors, to catch such syllables as unguardedly fell from the lips of the
consulting warriors. The boys deserted their sports, and walking
fearlessly among their fathers, looked up in curious admiration, as they
heard the brief exclamations of wonder they so freely expressed at the
temerity of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was abandoned
for the time, and all other pursuits seemed discarded, in order that the
tribe might freely indulge, after their own peculiar manner, in an open
expression of feeling.

When the excitement had a little abated, the old men disposed themselves
seriously to consider that which it became the honor and safety of their
tribe to perform, under circumstances of so much delicacy and
embarrassment. During all these movements, and in the midst of the
general commotion, Magua had not only maintained his seat, but the very
attitude he had originally taken, against the side of the lodge, where
he continued as immovable, and, apparently, as unconcerned, as if he had
no interest in the result. Not a single indication of the future
intentions of his hosts, however, escaped his vigilant eyes. With his
consummate knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to
deal, he anticipated every measure on which they decided; and it might
almost be said, that, in many instances, he knew their intentions, even
before they became known to themselves.

The council of the Delawares was short. When it was ended, a general
bustle announced that it was to be immediately succeeded by a solemn and
formal assemblage of the nation. As such meetings were rare, and only
called on occasions of the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still
sat apart, a wily and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that
all his projects must be brought to their final issue. He therefore left
the lodge, and walked silently forth to the place in front of the
encampment whither the warriors were already beginning to collect.

It might have been half an hour before each individual, including even
the women and children, was in his place. The delay had been created by
the grave preparations that were deemed necessary to so solemn and
unusual a conference. But when the sun was seen climbing above the tops
of that mountain against whose bosom the Delawares had constructed their
encampment, most were seated; and as his bright rays darted from behind
the outline of trees that fringed the eminence, they fell upon as grave,
as attentive, and as deeply interested a multitude, as was probably
ever before lighted by his morning beams. Its number somewhat exceeded a
thousand souls.

In a collection of such serious savages, there is never to be found any
impatient aspirant after premature distinction, standing ready to move
his auditors to some hasty, and, perhaps, injudicious discussion, in
order that his own reputation may be the gainer. An act of so much
precipitancy and presumption would seal the downfall of precocious
intellect forever. It rested solely with the oldest and most experienced
of the men to lay the subject of the conference before the people. Until
such a one chose to make some movement, no deeds in arms, no natural
gifts, nor any renown as an orator, would have justified the slightest
interruption. On the present occasion, the aged warrior whose privilege
it was to speak, was silent, seemingly oppressed with the magnitude of
his subject. The delay had already continued long beyond the usual
deliberative pause that always precedes a conference; but no sign of
impatience or surprise escaped even the youngest boy. Occasionally, an
eye was raised from the earth, where the looks of most were riveted, and
strayed towards a particular lodge, that was, however, in no manner
distinguished from those around it, except in the peculiar care that had
been taken to protect it against the assaults of the weather.

At length, one of those low murmurs that are so apt to disturb a
multitude, was heard, and the whole nation arose to their feet by a
common impulse. At that the door of the lodge in question opened, and
three men, issuing from it, slowly approached the place of consultation.
They were all aged, even beyond that period to which the oldest present
had reached; but one in the centre, who leaned on his companions for
support, had numbered an amount of years to which the human race is
seldom permitted to attain. His frame, which had once been tall and
erect, like the cedar, was now bending under the pressure of more than a
century. The elastic, light step of an Indian was gone, and in its place
he was compelled to toil his tardy way over the ground, inch by inch.
His dark, wrinkled countenance was in singular and wild contrast with
the long white locks which floated on his shoulders in such thickness as
to announce that generations had probably passed away since they had
last been shorn.

The dress of this patriarch--for such, considering his vast age, in
conjunction with his affinity and influence with his people, he might
very properly be termed--was rich and imposing, though strictly after
the simple fashions of the tribe. His robe was of the finest skins,
which had been deprived of their fur, in order to admit of a
hieroglyphical representation of various deeds in arms, done in former
ages. His bosom was loaded with medals, some in massive silver, and one
or two even in gold, the gifts of various Christian potentates during
the long period of his life. He also wore armlets, and cinctures above
the ankles, of the latter precious metal. His head, on the whole of
which the hair had been permitted to grow, the pursuits of war having so
long been abandoned, was encircled by a sort of plated diadem, which, in
its turn, bore lesser and more glittering ornaments, that sparkled amid
the glossy hues of three drooping ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black,
in touching contrast to the color of his snow-white locks. His tomahawk
was nearly hid in silver, and the handle of his knife shone like a horn
of solid gold.

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

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

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

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

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

completion: Magua appears in the Delaware camp the next morning, looking unarmed and peaceful. He discusses the current situation with Hard Heart, the great Delaware orator. However, Magua does not learn any news about Cora, who first came to the camp as his prisoner. He seeks to please the chief of the tribe by giving him gifts. He shocks the assembled Indians by revealing that he suspects the white man La Longue Carabine hides among them. Magua reminds the people that La Longue Carabine is a notorious Indian-killer


prompt:
Chapter: "The assembly seated, rising o'er the rest,
  Achilles thus the king of men addressed."

  POPE'S _Iliad._

Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining her arms in those of
Alice, in the tenderness of sisterly love. Notwithstanding the fearful
and menacing array of savages on every side of her, no apprehension on
her own account could prevent the noble-minded maiden from keeping her
eyes fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling Alice.
Close at their side stood Heyward, with an interest in both, that, at
such a moment of intense uncertainty, scarcely knew a preponderance in
favor of her whom he most loved. Hawkeye had placed himself a little in
the rear, with a deference to the superior rank of his companions, that
no similarity in the state of their present fortunes could induce him to
forget. Uncas was not there.

When perfect silence was again restored, and after the usual long,
impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs who sat at the side of the
patriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in very intelligible English,--

"Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine?"

Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. The former, however, glanced his
eyes around the dark and silent assembly, and recoiled a pace, when they
fell on the malignant visage of Magua. He saw, at once, that this wily
savage had some secret agency in their present arraignment before the
nation, and determined to throw every possible impediment in the way of
the execution of his sinister plans. He had witnessed one instance of
the summary punishments of the Indians, and now dreaded that his
companion was to be selected for a second. In this dilemma, with little
or no time for reflection, he suddenly determined to cloak his
invaluable friend, at any or every hazard to himself. Before he had
time, however, to speak, the question was repeated in a louder voice,
and with a clearer utterance.

"Give us arms," the young man haughtily replied, "and place us in
yonder woods. Our deeds shall speak for us!"

"This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears!" returned the
chief, regarding Heyward with that sort of curious interest which seems
inseparable from man, when first beholding one of his fellows to whom
merit or accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. "What has
brought the white man into the camp of the Delawares?"

"My necessities. I come for food, shelter and friends."

"It cannot be. The woods are full of game. The head of a warrior needs
no other shelter than a sky without clouds; and the Delawares are the
enemies, and not the friends, of the Yengeese. Go! the mouth has spoken,
while the heart said nothing."

Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed, remained silent;
but the scout, who had listened attentively to all that passed, now
advanced steadily to the front.

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

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

"My brother has said that a snake crept into my camp," said the chief to
Magua; "which is he?"

The Huron pointed to the scout.

"Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a wolf?" exclaimed Duncan,
still more confirmed in the evil intentions of his ancient enemy: "a dog
never lies, but when was a wolf known to speak the truth?"

The eyes of Magua flashed fire; but, suddenly recollecting the necessity
of maintaining his presence of mind, he turned away in silent disdain,
well assured that the sagacity of the Indians would not fail to extract
the real merits of the point in controversy. He was not deceived; for,
after another short consultation, the wary Delaware turned to him again,
and expressed the determination of the chiefs, though in the most
considerate language.

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

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

Heyward smiled to himself at the idea of a competition with the scout,
though he determined to persevere in the deception, until apprised of
the real designs of Magua. Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and
renewing his aim three several times, he fired. The bullet cut the wood
within a few inches of the vessel; and a general exclamation of
satisfaction announced that the shot was considered a proof of great
skill in the use of the weapon. Even Hawkeye nodded his head, as if he
would say, it was better than he had expected. But, instead of
manifesting an intention to contend with the successful marksman, he
stood leaning on his rifle for more than a minute, like a man who was
completely buried in thought. From this reverie he was, however,
awakened by one of the young Indians who had furnished the arms, and who
now touched his shoulder, saying, in exceedingly broken English,--

"Can the pale-face beat it?"

"Yes, Huron!" exclaimed the scout, raising the short rifle in his right
hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as much apparent ease as if it were
a reed; "yes, Huron, I could strike you now, and no power of earth could
prevent the deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain of the dove than
I am this moment of you, did I choose to send a bullet to your heart!
Why should I not? Why!--because the gifts of my color forbid it, and I
might draw down evil on tender and innocent heads. If you know such a
being as God, thank Him, therefore, in your inward soul; for you have
reason."

The flushed countenance, angry eye, and swelling figure of the scout,
produced a sensation of secret awe in all that heard him. The Delawares
held their breath in expectation; but Magua himself, even while he
distrusted the forbearance of his enemy, remained immovable and calm,
where he stood wedged in by the crowd, as one who grew to the spot.

"Beat it," replied the young Delaware at the elbow of the scout.

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

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

The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the startling effect of
an unnatural sound on Heyward; then dropping the piece heavily into his
extended left hand, it was discharged, apparently by the shock, driving
the fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on every
side. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound of the rifle was
heard, as he suffered it to fall, contemptuously, to the earth.

The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing admiration.
Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through the multitude, and
finally swelled into sounds that denoted a lively opposition in the
sentiments of the spectators. While some openly testified their
satisfaction at so unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion of
the tribe were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the
result of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an opinion that was
so favorable to his own pretentions.

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

"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now stubbornly bent on
maintaining his identity at every hazard, and on whom the secret hints
of Heyward to acquiesce in the deception were entirely lost. "Does
yonder lying Huron, too, think it chance? Give him another gun, and
place us face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence, and
our own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not make the offer to
you, major; for our blood is of a color, and we serve the same master."

"That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned Heyward, coolly;
"you have yourself heard him assert you to be La Longue Carabine."

It were impossible to say what violent assertion the stubborn Hawkeye
would have next made, in his headlong wish to vindicate his identity,
had not the aged Delaware once more interposed.

"The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he will," he said;
"give them the guns."

This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had Magua, though
he watched the movement of the marksman with jealous eyes, any further
cause for apprehension.

"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of Delawares, which is
the better man," cried the scout, tapping the butt of his piece with
that finger which had pulled so many fatal triggers. "You see the gourd
hanging against yonder tree, major; if you are a marksman fit for the
borders, let me see you break its shell!"

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

"It may do for the Royal Americans!" said Hawkeye, laughing once more
in his own silent, heartfelt manner; "but had my gun often turned so
much from the true line, many a marten, whose skin is now in a lady's
muff, would still be in the woods; ay, and many a bloody Mingo, who has
departed to his final account, would be acting his deviltries at this
very day, atween the provinces. I hope the squaw who owns the gourd has
more of them in her wigwam, for this will never hold water again!"

The scout had shook his priming, and cocked his piece, while speaking;
and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, and slowly raised the muzzle
from the earth: the motion was steady, uniform, and in one direction.
When on a perfect level, it remained for a single moment, without tremor
or variation, as though both man and rifle were carved in stone. During
that stationary instant, it poured forth its contents, in a bright,
glancing sheet of flame. Again the young Indians bounded forward; but
their hurried search and disappointed looks announced that no traces of
the bullet were to be seen.

"Go!" said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of strong disgust;
"thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog. I will talk to the 'Long Rifle'
of the Yengeese."

"Ah! had I that piece which furnished the name you use, I would obligate
myself to cut the thong, and drop the gourd without breaking it!"
returned Hawkeye, perfectly undisturbed by the other's manner, "Fools,
if you would find the bullet of a sharpshooter of these woods, you must
look in the object and not around it!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red children," he
continued, in a low, still, melancholy voice, "it was that all animals
might understand them. Some He placed among the snows, with their cousin
the bear. Some he placed near the setting sun, on the road to the happy
hunting-grounds. Some on the lands around the great fresh waters; but to
his greatest, and most beloved, He gave the sands of the salt lake. Do
my brothers know the name of this favored people?"

"It was the Lenape!" exclaimed twenty eager voices, in a breath.

"It was the Lenni Lenape," returned Magua, affecting to bend his head in
reverence to their former greatness. "It was the tribes of the Lenape!
The sun rose from water that was salt, and set in water that was sweet,
and never hid himself from their eyes. But why should I, a Huron of the
woods, tell a wise people their own traditions? Why remind them of their
injuries; their ancient greatness; their deeds; their glory; their
happiness,--their losses; their defeats; their misery? Is there not one
among them who has seen it all, and who knows it to be true? I have
done. My tongue is still, for my heart is of lead. I listen."

As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every face and all eyes
turned, by a common movement, towards the venerable Tamenund. From the
moment that he took his seat, until the present instant, the lips of the
patriarch had not severed, and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him.
He sat bent in feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence he
was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the skill of
the scout had been so clearly established. At the nicely graduated sound
of Magua's voice, however, he betrayed some evidence of consciousness,
and once or twice he even raised his head, as if to listen. But when the
crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the old man
raised themselves, and he looked out upon the multitude with that sort
of dull unmeaning expression which might be supposed to belong to the
countenance of a spectre. Then he made an effort to rise, and being
upheld by his supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by
its dignity, while he tottered with weakness.

"Who calls upon the children of the Lenape!" he said, in a deep,
guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by the breathless
silence of the multitude: "who speaks of things gone! Does not the egg
become a worm--the worm a fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares of
good that is past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains."

"It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude platform on
which the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."

"A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown settled,
imparting a portion of that severity which had rendered his eye so
terrible in middle age. "Are the Mingos rulers of the earth? What brings
a Huron here?"

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

Tamenund turned his head towards one of his supporters, and listened to
the short explanation the man gave. Then facing the applicant, he
regarded him a moment with deep attention; after which he said, in a low
and reluctant voice,--

"Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give the stranger
food. Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."

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

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

"Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and power we lean for mercy!
Be deaf to yonder artful and remorseless monster, who poisons thy ears
with falsehoods to feed his thirst for blood. Thou that hast lived long,
and that hast seen the evil of the world, should know how to temper its
calamities to the miserable."

The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once more looked upwards
at the multitude. As the piercing tones of the supplicant swelled on his
ears, they moved slowly in the direction of her person, and finally
settled there in a steady gaze. Cora had cast herself to her knees; and,
with hands clenched in each other and pressed upon her bosom, she
remained like a beauteous and breathing model of her sex, looking up in
his faded, but majestic countenance, with a species of holy reverence.
Gradually the expression of Tamenund's features changed, and losing
their vacancy in admiration, they lighted with a portion of that
intelligence which a century before had been wont to communicate his
youthful fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares. Rising without
assistance, and seemingly without an effort, he demanded, in a voice
that startled its auditors by its firmness,--

"What art thou?"

"A woman. One of a hated race, if thou wilt--a Yengee. But one who has
never harmed thee, and who cannot harm thy people, if she would; who
asks for succor."

"Tell me, my children," continued the patriarch, hoarsely, motioning to
those around him, though his eyes still dwelt upon the kneeling form of
Cora, "where have the Delawares camped?"

"In the mountains of the Iroquois, beyond the clear springs of the
Horican."

"Many parching summers are come and gone," continued the sage, "since I
drank of the water of my own rivers. The children of Minquon[26] are the
justest white men; but they were thirsty, and they took it to
themselves. Do they follow us so far?"

"We follow none; we covet nothing," answered Cora. "Captives against our
wills, have we been brought among you; and we ask but permission to
depart to our own in peace. Art thou not Tamenund--the father, the
judge, I had almost said, the prophet--of this people?"

"I am Tamenund of many days."

"'Tis now some seven years that one of thy people was at the mercy of a
white chief on the borders of this province. He claimed to be of the
blood of the good and just Tamenund. 'Go,' said the white man, 'for thy
parent's sake thou art free.' Dost thou remember the name of that
English warrior?"

"I remember, that when a laughing boy," returned the patriarch, with the
peculiar recollection of vast age, "I stood upon the sands of the
sea-shore, and saw a big canoe, with wings whiter than the swan's, and
wider than many eagles, come from the rising sun."

"Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant, but of favor shown to
thy kindred by one of mine, within the memory of thy youngest warrior."

"Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchmanne fought for the
hunting-grounds of the Delawares? Then Tamenund was a chief, and first
laid aside the bow for the lightning of the pale faces--"

[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

THE SUPPLICANT

_Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with hands clenched in each
other and pressed upon her bosom, she remained like a beauteous and
breathing model of her sex_]

"Nor yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of a thing of
yesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not."

"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching pathos,
"that the children of the Lenape were masters of the world. The fishes
of the salt lake, the birds, the beasts, and the Mengwe of the woods,
owned them for sagamores."

Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter moment,
struggled with her chagrin. Then elevating her rich features and beaming
eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely less penetrating than the
unearthly voice of the patriarch himself,--

"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"

The old man looked down upon her from his elevated stand, with a
benignant smile on his wasted countenance, and then casting his eyes
slowly over the whole assemblage, he answered,--

"Of a nation."

"For myself I ask nothing. Like thee and thine, venerable chief," she
continued, pressing her hands convulsively on her heart, and suffering
her head to droop until her burning cheeks were nearly concealed in the
maze of dark glossy tresses that fell in disorder upon her shoulders,
"the curse of my ancestors has fallen heavily on their child. But yonder
is one who has never known the weight of Heaven's displeasure until now.
She is the daughter of an old and failing man, whose days are near their
close. She has many, very many, to love her, and delight in her; and she
is too good, much too precious, to become the victim of that villain."

"I know that the pale-faces are a proud and hungry race. I know that
they claim not only to have the earth, but that the meanest of their
color is better than the sachems of the redman. The dogs and crows of
their tribes," continued the earnest old chieftain, without heeding the
wounded spirit of his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to the
earth in shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they would
take a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of the color of snow.
But let them not boast before the face of the Manitou too loud. They
entered the land at the rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun. I
have often seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the
season of blossoms has always come again."

"It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving from a
trance, raising her face, and shaking back her shining veil, with a
kindling eye, that contradicted the death-like paleness of her
countenance; "but why--it is not permitted us to inquire. There is yet
one of thine own people who has not been brought before thee; before
thou lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."

Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his companions
said,--

"It is a snake--a redskin in the pay of the Yengeese. We keep him for
the torture."

"Let him come," returned the sage.

Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so deep
prevailed, while the young men prepared to obey his simple mandate, that
the leaves, which fluttered in the draught of the light morning air,
were distinctly heard rustling in the surrounding forest.

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

completion: More than a thousand Delawares congregate to hear the judgment of the ancient and revered sage Tamenund, who is more than one hundred years old. Shortly after Tamenund appears, warriors bring Hawkeye, Cora, Alice, and Heyward to the assembly. In an attempt to protect his companion and stall for time, Heyward claims to be La Longue Carabine, but Hawkeye insists that Heyward is lying. To Magua's delight, the Delawares stage a shooting contest to determine which man is truly La Longe Carabine. Heyward is a good shot, but Hawkeye displays almost superhuman marksmanship. Magua stirs the crowd into a frenzy of hatred, and the Indians tie up both Hawkeye and Heyward. Attempting to gain some time, Cora implores Tamenund to hear the pronouncements of Uncas. Tamenund is lethargic and skeptical, but not unwilling to welcome the Mohican.