Chapter: "I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn
  As much as we this night have overwatched!"

  _Midsummer Night's Dream._


The instant the shock of this sudden misfortune had abated, Duncan began
to make his observations on the appearance and proceedings of their
captors. Contrary to the usages of the natives in the wantonness of
their success, they had respected, not only the persons of the trembling
sisters, but his own. The rich ornaments of his military attire had
indeed been repeatedly handled by different individuals of the tribe
with eyes expressing a savage longing to possess the baubles; but before
the customary violence could be resorted to, a mandate in the
authoritative voice of the large warrior already mentioned, stayed the
uplifted hand, and convinced Heyward that they were to be reserved for
some object of particular moment.

While, however, these manifestations of weakness were exhibited by the
young and vain of the party, the more experienced warriors continued
their search throughout both caverns, with an activity that denoted they
were far from being satisfied with those fruits of their conquest which
had already been brought to light. Unable to discover any new victim,
these diligent workers of vengeance soon approached their male
prisoners, pronouncing the name of "La Longue Carabine," with a
fierceness that could not easily be mistaken. Duncan affected not to
comprehend the meaning of their repeated and violent interrogatories,
while his companion was spared the effort of a similar deception by his
ignorance of French. Wearied, at length, by their importunities, and
apprehensive of irritating his captors by too stubborn a silence, the
former looked about him in quest of Magua; who might interpret his
answers to questions which were at each moment becoming more earnest and
threatening.

The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary exception to that of
all his fellows. While the others were busily occupied in seeking to
gratify their childish passion for finery, by plundering even the
miserable effects of the scout, or had been searching, with such
bloodthirsty vengeance in their looks, for their absent owner, Le Renard
had stood at a little distance from the prisoners, with a demeanor so
quiet and satisfied, as to betray that he had already effected the grand
purpose of this treachery. When the eyes of Heyward first met those of
his recent guide, he turned them away in horror at the sinister though
calm look he encountered. Conquering his disgust, however, he was able,
with an averted face, to address his successful enemy.

"Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior," said the reluctant Heyward,
"to refuse telling an unarmed man what his conquerors say."

"They ask for the hunter who knows the paths through the woods,"
returned Magua, in his broken English, laying his hand, at the same
time, with a ferocious smile, on the bundle of leaves with which a wound
on his own shoulder was bandaged. "La Longue Carabine! his rifle is
good, and his eye never shut; but, like the short gun of the white
chief, it is nothing against the life of Le Subtil!"

"Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts received in war, or the
hands that gave them!"

"Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the sugar-tree to taste his
corn! who filled the bushes with creeping enemies! who drew the knife!
whose tongue was peace, while his heart was colored with blood! Did
Magua say that the hatchet was out of the ground, and that his hand had
dug it up?"

As Duncan dared not retort upon his accuser by reminding him of his own
premeditated treachery, and disdained to deprecate his resentment by any
words of apology, he remained silent. Magua seemed also content to rest
the controversy as well as all further communication there, for he
resumed the leaning attitude against the rock, from which, in momentary
energy, he had arisen. But the cry of "La Longue Carabine" was renewed
the instant the impatient savages perceived that the short dialogue was
ended.

"You hear," said Magua, with stubborn indifference; "the red Hurons call
for the life of 'The Long Rifle,' or they will have the blood of them
that keep him hid!"

"He is gone--escaped; he is far beyond their reach."

Renard smiled with cold contempt, as he answered,--

"When the white man dies, he thinks he is at peace; but the redmen know
how to torture even the ghosts of their enemies. Where is his body? Let
the Hurons see his scalp!"

"He is not dead, but escaped."

Magua shook his head incredulously.

"Is he a bird, to spread his wings; or is he a fish, to swim without
air! The white chief reads in his books, and he believes the Hurons are
fools!"

"Though no fish, The Long Rifle can swim. He floated down the stream
when the powder was all burnt, and when the eyes of the Hurons were
behind a cloud."

"And why did the white chief stay?" demanded the still incredulous
Indian. "Is he a stone that goes to the bottom, or does the scalp burn
his head?"

"That I am not a stone, your dead comrade, who fell into the falls,
might answer, were the life still in him," said the provoked young man,
using, in his anger, that boastful language which was most likely to
excite the admiration of an Indian. "The white man thinks none but
cowards desert their women."

Magua muttered a few words, inaudibly, between his teeth, before he
continued, aloud,--

"Can the Delawares swim, too, as well as crawl in the bushes? Where is
Le Gros Serpent?"

Duncan, who perceived by the use of these Canadian appellations, that
his late companions were much better known to his enemies than to
himself, answered, reluctantly, "He also is gone down with the water."

"Le Cerf Agile is not here?"

"I know not whom you call 'The Nimble Deer,'" said Duncan, gladly
profiting by any excuse to create delay.

"Uncas," returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware name with even greater
difficulty than he spoke his English words. "'Bounding Elk' is what the
white man says, when he calls to the young Mohican."

"Here is some confusion in names between us, Le Renard," said Duncan,
hoping to provoke a discussion. "_Daim_ is the French for deer, and
_cerf_ for stag; _elan_ is the true term, when one would speak of an
elk."

"Yes," muttered the Indian, in his native tongue; "the pale-faces are
prattling women! they have two words for each thing, while a redskin
will make the sound of his voice speak for him." Then changing his
language, he continued, adhering to the imperfect nomenclature of his
provincial instructors, "The deer is swift, but weak; the elk is swift,
but strong; and the son of Le Serpent is Le Cerf Agile. Has he leaped
the river to the woods?"

"If you mean the younger Delaware, he too is gone down with the water."

As there was nothing improbable to an Indian in the manner of the
escape, Magua admitted the truth of what he had heard, with a readiness
that afforded additional evidence how little he would prize such
worthless captives. With his companions, however, the feeling was
manifestly different.

The Hurons had awaited the result of this short dialogue with
characteristic patience, and with a silence that increased until there
was a general stillness in the band. When Heyward ceased to speak, they
turned their eyes, as one man, on Magua, demanding, in this expressive
manner, an explanation of what had been said. Their interpreter pointed
to the river, and made them acquainted with the result, as much by the
action as by the few words he uttered. When the fact was generally
understood, the savages raised a frightful yell, which declared the
extent of their disappointment. Some ran furiously to the water's edge,
beating the air with frantic gestures, while others spat upon the
element, to resent the supposed treason it had committed against their
acknowledged rights as conquerors. A few, and they not the least
powerful and terrific of the band, threw lowering looks, in which the
fiercest passion was only tempered by habitual self-command, at those
captives who still remained in their power; while one or two even gave
vent to their malignant feelings by the most menacing gestures, against
which neither the sex nor the beauty of the sisters was any protection.
The young soldier made a desperate, but fruitless effort, to spring to
the side of Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted in the
rich tresses which were flowing in volumes over her shoulders, while a
knife was passed around the head from which they fell, as if to denote
the horrid manner in which it was about to be robbed of its beautiful
ornament. But his hands were bound; and at the first movement he made,
he felt the grasp of the powerful Indian who directed the band, pressing
his shoulder like a vise. Immediately conscious how unavailing any
struggle against such an overwhelming force must prove, he submitted to
his fate, encouraging his gentle companions by a few low and tender
assurances that the natives seldom failed to threaten more than they
performed.

But, while Duncan resorted to these words of consolation to quiet the
apprehensions of the sisters, he was not so weak as to deceive himself.
He well knew that the authority of an Indian chief was so little
conventional, that it was oftener maintained by physical superiority
than by any moral supremacy he might possess. The danger was, therefore,
magnified exactly in proportion to the number of the savage spirits by
which they were surrounded. The most positive mandate from him who
seemed the acknowledged leader, was liable to be violated at each
moment, by any rash hand that might choose to sacrifice a victim to the
_manes_ of some dead friend or relative. While, therefore, he sustained
an outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart leaped into
his throat, whenever any of their fierce captors drew nearer than common
to the helpless sisters, or fastened one of their sullen wandering looks
on those fragile forms which were so little able to resist the slightest
assault.

His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, when he saw that the
leader had summoned his warriors to himself in council. Their
deliberations were short, and it would seem, by the silence of most of
the party, the decision unanimous. By the frequency with which the few
speakers pointed in the direction of the encampment of Webb, it was
apparent they dreaded the approach of danger from that quarter. This
consideration probably hastened their determination, and quickened the
subsequent movements.

During this short conference, Heyward, finding a respite from his
greatest fears, had leisure to admire the cautious manner in which the
Hurons had made their approaches, even after hostilities had ceased.

It has already been stated, that the upper half of the island was a
naked rock, and destitute of any other defences than a few scattered
logs of drift-wood. They had selected this point to make their descent,
having borne the canoe through the wood around the cataract for that
purpose. Placing their arms in the little vessel, a dozen men clinging
to its sides had trusted themselves to the direction of the canoe, which
was controlled by two of the most skilful warriors, in attitudes that
enabled them to command a view of the dangerous passage. Favored by this
arrangement, they touched the head of the island at that point which had
proved so fatal to their first adventures, but with the advantages of
superior numbers, and the possession of fire-arms. That such had been
the manner of their descent was rendered quite apparent to Duncan; for
they now bore the light bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed
it in the water, near the mouth of the outer cavern. As soon as this
change was made, the leader made signs to the prisoners to descend and
enter.

As resistance was impossible, and remonstrance useless, Heyward set the
example of submission, by leading the way into the canoe, where he was
soon seated with the sisters, and the still wondering David.
Notwithstanding the Hurons were necessarily ignorant of the little
channels among the eddies and rapids of the stream, they knew the common
signs of such a navigation too well to commit any material blunder. When
the pilot chosen for the task of guiding the canoe had taken his
station, the whole band plunged again into the river, the vessel glided
down the current, and in a few moments the captives found themselves on
the south bank of the stream, nearly opposite to the point where they
had struck it the preceding evening.

Here was held another short but earnest consultation, during which the
horses, to whose panic their owners ascribed their heaviest misfortune,
were led from the cover of the woods, and brought to the sheltered spot.
The band now divided. The great chief so often mentioned, mounting the
charger of Heyward, led the way directly across the river, followed by
most of his people, and disappeared in the woods, leaving the prisoners
in charge of six savages, at whose head was Le Renard Subtil. Duncan
witnessed all their movements with renewed uneasiness.

He had been fond of believing, from the uncommon forbearance of the
savages, that he was reserved as a prisoner to be delivered to Montcalm.
As the thoughts of those who are in misery seldom slumber, and the
invention is never more lively than when it is stimulated by hope,
however feeble and remote, he had even imagined that the parental
feelings of Munro were to be made instrumental in seducing him from his
duty to the king. For though the French commander bore a high character
for courage and enterprise, he was also thought to be expert in those
political practices, which do not always respect the nicer obligations
of morality, and which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy of
that period.

All those busy and ingenious speculations were now annihilated by the
conduct of his captors. That portion of the band who had followed the
huge warrior took the route towards the foot of the Horican, and no
other expectation was left for himself and companions, than that they
were to be retained as hopeless captives by their savage conquerors.
Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in such an emergency, to try the
potency of gold, he overcame his reluctance to speak to Magua.
Addressing himself to his former guide, who had now assumed the
authority and manner of one who was to direct the future movements of
the party, he said, in tones as friendly and confiding as he could
assume,--

"I would speak to Magua, what is fit only for so great a chief to hear."

The Indian turned his eyes on the young soldier scornfully, as he
answered,--

"Speak; trees have no ears!"

"But the red Hurons are not deaf; and counsel that is fit for the great
men of a nation would make the young warriors drunk. If Magua will not
listen, the officer of the king knows how to be silent."

The savage spoke carelessly to his comrades, who were busied, after
their awkward manner, in preparing the horses for the reception of the
sisters, and moved a little to one side, whither, by a cautious gesture,
he induced Heyward to follow.

"Now speak," he said; "if the words are such as Magua should hear."

"Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the honorable name given
to him by his Canada fathers," commenced Heyward; "I see his wisdom, and
all that he has done for us, and shall remember it, when the hour to
reward him arrives. Yes! Renard has proved that he is not only a great
chief in council, but one who knows how to deceive his enemies!"

"What has Renard done?" coldly demanded the Indian.

"What! has he not seen that the woods were filled with outlying parties
of the enemies, and that the Serpent could not steal through them
without being seen? Then, did he not lose his path to blind the eyes of
the Hurons? Did he not pretend to go back to his tribe, who had treated
him ill, and driven him from their wigwams like a dog? And, when we saw
what he wished to do, did we not aid him, by making a false face, that
the Hurons might think the white man believed that his friend was his
enemy? Is not all this true? And when Le Subtil had shut the eyes and
stopped the ears of his nation by his wisdom, did they not forget that
they had once done him wrong, and forced him to flee to the Mohawks? And
did they not leave him on the south side of the river, with their
prisoners, while they have gone foolishly on the north? Does not Renard
mean to turn like a fox on his footsteps, and to carry to the rich and
gray-headed Scotchman his daughters? Yes, Magua, I see it all, and I
have already been thinking how so much wisdom and honesty should be
repaid. First, the chief of William Henry will give as a great chief
should for such a service. The medal[16] of Magua will no longer be of
tin, but of beaten gold; his horn will run over with powder; dollars
will be as plenty in his pouch as pebbles on the shore of Horican; and
the deer will lick his hand, for they will know it to be vain to fly
from the rifle he will carry! As for myself, I know not how to exceed
the gratitude of the Scotchman, but I--yes, I will--"

"What will the young chief who comes from towards the sun, give?"
demanded the Huron, observing that Heyward hesitated in his desire to
end the enumeration of benefits with that which might form the climax of
an Indian's wishes.

"He will make the fire-water from the Islands in the salt lake flow
before the wigwam of Magua, until the heart of the Indian shall be
lighter than the feathers of the humming-bird, and his breath sweeter
than the wild honeysuckle."

Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly proceeded in his subtle
speech. When the young man mentioned the artifice he supposed the Indian
to have practised on his own nation, the countenance of the listener was
veiled in an expression of cautious gravity. At the allusion to the
injury which Duncan affected to believe had driven the Huron from his
native tribe, a gleam of such ungovernable ferocity flashed from the
other's eyes, as induced the adventurous speaker to believe he had
struck the proper chord. And by the time he reached the part where he so
artfully blended the thirst of vengeance with the desire of gain, he
had, at least, obtained a command of the deepest attention of the
savage. The question put by Le Renard had been calm, and with all the
dignity of an Indian; but it was quite apparent, by the thoughtful
expression of the listener's countenance, that the answer was most
cunningly devised. The Huron mused a few moments, and then laying his
hand on the rude bandages of his wounded shoulder, he said, with some
energy,--

"Do friends make such remarks?"

"Would La Longue Carabine cut one so light on an enemy?"

"Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love, like snakes, twisting
themselves to strike?"

"Would Le Gros Serpent have been heard by the ears of one he wished to
be deaf?"

"Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces of his brothers?"

"Does he ever miss his aim, when seriously bent to kill?" returned
Duncan, smiling with well acted sincerity.

Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these sententious questions
and ready replies. Duncan saw that the Indian hesitated. In order to
complete his victory, he was in the act of recommencing the enumeration
of the rewards, when Magua made an expressive gesture and said--

"Enough; Le Renard is a wise chief, and what he does will be seen. Go,
and keep the mouth shut. When Magua speaks, it will be the time to
answer."

Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion were warily fastened
on the rest of the band, fell back immediately, in order to avoid the
appearance of any suspicious confederacy with their leader. Magua
approached the horses, and affected to be well pleased with the
diligence and ingenuity of his comrades. He then signed to Heyward to
assist the sisters into the saddles, for he seldom deigned to use the
English tongue, unless urged by some motive of more than usual moment.

There was no longer any plausible pretext for delay; and Duncan was
obliged, however reluctantly, to comply. As he performed this office, he
whispered his reviving hopes in the ears of the trembling females, who,
through dread of encountering the savage countenances of their captors,
seldom raised their eyes from the ground. The mare of David had been
taken with the followers of the large chief; in consequence, its owner,
as well as Duncan, was compelled to journey on foot. The latter did not,
however, so much regret this circumstance, as it might enable him to
retard the speed of the party; for he still turned his longing looks in
the direction of Fort Edward, in the vain expectation of catching some
sound from that quarter of the forest, which might denote the approach
of succor.

When all were prepared, Magua made the signal to proceed, advancing in
front to lead the party in person. Next followed David, who was
gradually coming to a true sense of his condition, as the effects of the
wound became less and less apparent. The sisters rode in his rear, with
Heyward at their side, while the Indians flanked the party, and brought
up the close of the march, with a caution that seemed never to tire.

In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence, except when
Heyward addressed some solitary word of comfort to the females, or David
gave vent to the moanings of his spirit in piteous exclamations, which
he intended should express the humility of resignation. Their direction
lay towards the south, and in a course nearly opposite to the road to
William Henry. Notwithstanding this apparent adherence in Magua to the
original determination of his conquerors, Heyward could not believe his
tempting bait was so soon forgotten; and he knew the windings of an
Indian path too well, to suppose that its apparent course led directly
to its object, when artifice was at all necessary. Mile after mile was,
however, passed through the boundless woods, in this painful manner,
without any prospect of a termination to their journey. Heyward watched
the sun, as he darted his meridian rays through the branches of the
trees, and pined for the moment when the policy of Magua should change
their route to one more favorable to his hopes. Sometimes he fancied the
wary savage, despairing of passing the arm of Montcalm in safety, was
holding his way towards a well-known border settlement, where a
distinguished officer of the crown, and a favored friend of the Six
Nations, held his large possessions, as well as his usual residence. To
be delivered into the hands of Sir William Johnson was far preferable to
being led into the wilds of Canada; but in order to effect even the
former, it would be necessary to traverse the forest for many weary
leagues, each step of which was carrying him farther from the scene of
the war, and, consequently, from the post, not only of honor, but of
duty.

Cora alone remembered the parting injunctions of the scout, and whenever
an opportunity offered, she stretched forth her arm to bend aside the
twigs that met her hands. But the vigilance of the Indians rendered this
act of precaution both difficult and dangerous. She was often defeated
in her purpose, by encountering their watchful eyes, when it became
necessary to feign an alarm she did not feel, and occupy the limb by
some gesture of feminine apprehension. Once, and once only, was she
completely successful; when she broke down the bough of a large sumach,
and, by a sudden thought, let her glove fall at the same instant. This
sign, intended for those that might follow, was observed by one of her
conductors, who restored the glove, broke the remaining branches of the
bush in such a manner that it appeared to proceed from the struggling of
some beast in its branches, and then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with
a look so significant, that it put an effectual end to these stolen
memorials of their passage.

As there were horses, to leave the prints of their footsteps, in both
bands of the Indians, this interruption cut off any probable hopes of
assistance being conveyed through the means of their trail.

Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance, had there been anything
encouraging in the gloomy reserve of Magua. But the savage, during all
this time, seldom turned to look at his followers, and never spoke. With
the sun for his only guide, or aided by such blind marks as are only
known to the sagacity of a native, he held his way along the barrens of
pine, through occasional little fertile vales, across brooks and
rivulets, and over undulating hills, with the accuracy of instinct, and
nearly with the directness of a bird. He never seemed to hesitate.
Whether the path was hardly distinguishable, whether it disappeared, or
whether it lay beaten and plain before him, made no sensible difference
in his speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not affect him.
Whenever the eyes of the wearied travellers rose from the decayed leaves
over which they trod, his dark form was to be seen glancing among the
stems of the trees in front, his head immovably fastened in a forward
position, with the light plume on his crest fluttering in a current of
air, made solely by the swiftness of his own motion.

But all this diligence and speed were not without an object. After
crossing a low vale, through which a gushing brook meandered, he
suddenly ascended a hill, so steep and difficult of ascent, that the
sisters were compelled to alight, in order to follow. When the summit
was gained, they found themselves on a level spot, but thinly covered
with trees, under one of which Magua had thrown his dark form, as if
willing and ready to seek that rest which was so much needed by the
whole party.

 Though the Hurons at first threaten to kill Heyward, they detain him for questioning. Heyward relies upon Magua for interpretation and finally convinces his captors that Hawkeye and his Mohican allies have escaped. This exasperating knowledge nearly causes the angry Hurons to murder Alice. Before violence occurs, however, the Huron chief calls a tribal council and decides to move the entire party to the south bank of the river. While Magua takes charge of the white prisoners, Heyward tells Magua that he believes Magua sought to deceive the Huron nation for private gain. Though he does not deny Heyward's allegations, Magua does not admit to them either. Meanwhile, Cora attempts to leave behind a trail of signals, but the Indians discover her attempts and threaten her. Magua silently guides the prisoners to a steep hill, perfect for both defense and attack

