Chapter: "They linger yet,
  Avengers of their native land."

  GRAY.


The warning call of the scout was not uttered without occasion. During
the occurrence of the deadly encounter just related, the roar of the
falls was unbroken by any human sound whatever. It would seem that
interest in the result had kept the natives on the opposite shores in
breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift changes in the
position of the combatants, effectually prevented a fire that might
prove dangerous alike to friend and enemy. But the moment the struggle
was decided, a yell arose as fierce and savage as wild and revengful
passions could throw into the air. It was followed by the swift flashes
of the rifles, which sent their leaden messengers across the rock in
volleys, as though the assailants would pour out their impotent fury on
the insensible scene of the fatal contest.

A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle of
Chingachgook, who had maintained his post throughout the fray with
unmoved resolution. When the triumphant shout of Uncas was borne to his
ears, the gratified father raised his voice in a single responsive cry,
after which his busy piece alone proved that he still guarded his pass
with unwearied diligence. In this manner many minutes flew by with the
swiftness of thought: the rifles of the assailants speaking, at times,
in rattling volleys, and at others, in occasional, scattering shots.
Though the rock, the trees, and the shrubs, were cut and torn in a
hundred places around the besieged, their cover was so close, and so
rigidly maintained, that, as yet, David had been the only sufferer in
their little band.

"Let them burn their powder," said the deliberate scout, while bullet
after bullet whizzed by the place where he securely lay; "there will be
a fine gathering of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire
of the sport, afore these old stones cry out for mercy! Uncas, boy, you
waste the kernels by overcharging: and a kicking rifle never carries a
true bullet. I told you to take that loping miscreant under the line of
white paint; now, if your bullet went a hair's breadth, it went two
inches above it. The life lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches us
to make a quick end of the sarpents."

A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young Mohican,
betraying his knowledge of the English language, as well as of the
other's meaning; but he suffered it to pass away without vindication or
reply.

"I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or of skill,"
said Duncan; "he saved my life in the coolest and readiest manner, and
he has made a friend who never will require to be reminded of the debt
he owes."

Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to the grasp of
Heyward. During this act of friendship, the two young men exchanged
looks of intelligence which caused Duncan to forget the character and
condition of his wild associate. In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who looked
on this burst of youthful feeling with a cool but kind regard, made the
following reply:--

"Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in the
wilderness. I dare say I may have served Uncas some such turn myself
before now; and I very well remember that he has stood between me and
death five different times: three times from the Mingos, once in
crossing Horican, and--"

"That bullet was better aimed than common!" exclaimed Duncan,
involuntarily shrinking from a shot which struck the rock at his side
with a smart rebound.

Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his head, as he
examined it, saying, "Falling lead is never flattened! had it come from
the clouds this might have happened!"

But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised towards the heavens,
directing his companions to a point, where the mystery was immediately
explained. A ragged oak grew on the right bank of the river, nearly
opposite to their position, which, seeking the freedom of the open
space, had inclined so far forward, that its upper branches overhung
that arm of the stream which flowed nearest to its own shore. Among the
topmost leaves, which scantily concealed the gnarled and stunted limbs,
a savage was nestled, partly concealed by the trunk of the tree, and
partly exposed, as though looking down upon them to ascertain the effect
produced by his treacherous aim.

"These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our ruin," said
Hawkeye; "keep him in play, boy, until I can bring 'Killdeer' to bear,
when we will try his metal on each side of the tree at once."

Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the word. The rifles
flashed, the leaves and the bark of the oak flew into the air, and were
scattered by the wind, but the Indian answered their assault by a
taunting laugh, sending down upon them another bullet in return, that
struck the cap of Hawkeye from his head. Once more the savage yells
burst out of the woods, and the leaden hail whistled above the heads of
the besieged, as if to confine them to a place where they might become
easy victims to the enterprise of the warrior who had mounted the tree.

"This must be looked to!" said the scout, glancing about him with an
anxious eye. "Uncas, call up your father; we have need of all our
we'pons to bring the cunning varmint from his roost."

The signal was instantly given; and, before Hawkeye had reloaded his
rifle, they were joined by Chingachgook. When his son pointed out to the
experienced warrior the situation of their dangerous enemy, the usual
exclamatory "Hugh!" burst from his lips; after which, no further
expression of surprise or alarm was suffered to escape him. Hawkeye and
the Mohicans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a few moments,
when each quietly took his post, in order to execute the plan they had
speedily devised.

The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though ineffectual fire,
from the moment of his discovery. But his aim was interrupted by the
vigilance of his enemies, whose rifles instantaneously bore on any part
of his person that was left exposed. Still his bullets fell in the
centre of the crouching party. The clothes of Heyward, which rendered
him peculiarly conspicuous, were repeatedly cut, and once blood was
drawn from a slight wound in his arm.

At length, emboldened by the long and patient watchfulness of his
enemies, the Huron attempted a better and more fatal aim. The quick eye
of the Mohicans caught the dark line of his lower limbs incautiously
exposed through the thin foliage, a few inches from the trunk of the
tree. Their rifles made a common report, when, sinking on his wounded
limb, part of the body of the savage came into view. Swift as thought,
Hawkeye seized the advantage and discharged his fatal weapon into the
top of the oak. The leaves were unusually agitated; the dangerous rifle
fell from its commanding elevation, and after a few moments of vain
struggling, the form of the savage was seen swinging in the wind, while
he still grasped a ragged and naked branch of the tree, with hands
clenched in desperation.

"Give him, in pity give him--the contents of another rifle!" cried
Duncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the spectacle of a
fellow-creature in such awful jeopardy.

"Not a karnel!" exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; "his death is certain,
and we have no powder to spare, for Indian fights sometimes last for
days; 'tis their scalps or ours!--and God, who made us, has put into our
natures the craving to keep the skin on the head!"

Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it was by such
visible policy, there was no appeal. From that moment the yells in the
forest once more ceased, the fire was suffered to decline, and all eyes,
those of friends as well as enemies, became fixed on the hopeless
condition of the wretch who was dangling between heaven and earth. The
body yielded to the currents of air, and though no murmur or groan
escaped the victim, there were instants when he grimly faced his foes,
and the anguish of cold despair might be traced, through the intervening
distance, in possession of his swarthy lineaments. Three several times
the scout raised his piece in mercy, and as often prudence getting the
better of his intention, it was again silently lowered. At length one
hand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped exhausted to his side. A
desperate and fruitless struggle to recover the branch succeeded, and
then the savage was seen for a fleeting instant, grasping wildly at the
empty air. The lightning is not quicker than was the flame from the
rifle of Hawkeye; the limbs of the victim trembled and contracted, the
head fell to the bosom, and the body parted the foaming waters like
lead, when the element closed above it, in its ceaseless velocity, and
every vestige of the unhappy Huron was lost forever.

No shout of triumph succeeded this important advantage, but even the
Mohicans gazed at each other in silent horror. A single yell burst from
the woods, and all was again still. Hawkeye, who alone appeared to
reason on the occasion, shook his head at his own momentary weakness,
even uttering his self-disapprobation aloud.

"'Twas the last charge in my horn, and the last bullet in my pouch, and
'twas the act of a boy!" he said; "what mattered it whether he struck
the rock living or dead: feeling would soon be over. Uncas, lad, go down
to the canoe, and bring up the big horn; it is all the powder we have
left, and we shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of the
Mingo nature."

The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turning over the useless
contents of his pouch, and shaking the empty horn with renewed
discontent. From this unsatisfactory examination, however, he was soon
called by a loud and piercing exclamation from Uncas, that sounded, even
to the unpractised ears of Duncan, as the signal of some new and
unexpected calamity. Every thought filled with apprehension for the
precious treasure he had concealed in the cavern, the young man started
to his feet, totally regardless of the hazard he incurred by such an
exposure. As if actuated by a common impulse, his movement was imitated
by his companions, and, together, they rushed down the pass to the
friendly chasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scattering fire of
their enemies perfectly harmless. The unwonted cry had brought the
sisters, together with the wounded David, from their place of refuge;
and the whole party, at a single glance, was made acquainted with the
nature of the disaster that had disturbed even the practised stoicism of
their youthful Indian protector.

At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to be seen
floating across the eddy, towards the swift current of the river, in a
manner which proved that its course was directed by some hidden agent.
The instant this unwelcome sight caught the eye of the scout, his rifle
was levelled as by instinct, but the barrel gave no answer to the bright
sparks of the flint.

"'Tis too late, 'tis too late!" Hawkeye exclaimed, dropping the useless
piece in bitter disappointment; "the miscreant has struck the rapid; and
had we powder, it could hardly send the lead swifter than he now goes!"

The adventurous Huron raised his head above the shelter of the canoe,
and while it glided swiftly down the stream, he waved his hand, and gave
forth the shout, which was the known signal of success. His cry was
answered by a yell and a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting as
if fifty demons were uttering their blasphemies at the fall of some
Christian soul.

"Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil!" said the scout, seating
himself on a projection of the rock, and suffering his gun to fall
neglected at his feet, "for the three quickest and surest rifles in
these woods are no better than so many stalks of mullein, or the last
year's horns of a buck!"

"What is to be done?" demanded Duncan, losing the first feeling of
disappointment in a more manly desire for exertion; "what will become of
us?"

Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger around the crown
of his head, in a manner so significant, that none who witnessed the
action could mistake its meaning.

"Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!" exclaimed the youth;
"the Hurons are not here; we may make good the caverns; we may oppose
their landing."

"With what?" coolly demanded the scout. "The arrows of Uncas, or such
tears as women shed! No, no; you are young, and rich, and have friends,
and at such an age I know it is hard to die! But," glancing his eyes at
the Mohicans, "let us remember we are men without a cross, and let us
teach these natives of the forest that white blood can run as freely as
red, when the appointed hour is come."

Duncan turned quickly in the direction indicated by the other's eyes,
and read a confirmation of his worst apprehensions in the conduct of the
Indians. Chingachgook, placing himself in a dignified posture on another
fragment of the rock, had already laid aside his knife and tomahawk, and
was in the act of taking the eagle's plume from his head, and smoothing
the solitary tuft of hair in readiness to perform its last and revolting
office. His countenance was composed, though thoughtful, while his dark
gleaming eyes were gradually losing the fierceness of the combat in an
expression better suited to the change he expected momentarily to
undergo.

"Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless!" said Duncan; "even at this
moment succor may be at hand. I see no enemies! they have sickened of a
struggle in which they risk so much with so little prospect of gain!"

"It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the wily sarpents steal
upon us, and it is quite in natur' for them to be lying within hearing
at this very moment," said Hawkeye; "but come they will, and in such a
fashion as will leave us nothing to hope! Chingachgook"--he spoke in
Delaware--"my brother, we have fought our last battle together, and the
Maquas will triumph in the death of the sage man of the Mohicans, and of
the pale-face, whose eyes can make night as day, and level the clouds
to the mists of the springs!"

"Let the Mingo women go weep over their slain!" returned the Indian,
with characteristic pride and unmoved firmness; "the Great Snake of the
Mohicans has coiled himself in their wigwams, and has poisoned their
triumph with the wailings of children whose fathers have not returned!
Eleven warriors lie hid from the graves of their tribes since the snows
have melted, and none will tell where to find them when the tongue of
Chingachgook shall be silent! Let them draw the sharpest knife, and
whirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their bitterest enemy is in their
hands. Uncas, topmost branch of a noble trunk, call on the cowards to
hasten or their hearts will soften, and they will change to women!"

"They look among the fishes for their dead!" returned the low, soft
voice of the youthful chieftain; "the Hurons float with the slimy eels!
They drop from the oaks like fruit that is ready to be eaten! and the
Delawares laugh!"

"Ay, ay," muttered the scout, who had listened to this peculiar burst of
the natives with deep attention; "they have warmed their Indian
feelings, and they'll soon provoke the Maquas to give them a speedy end.
As for me, who am of the whole blood of the whites, it is befitting that
I should die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my mouth,
and without bitterness at the heart!"

"Why die at all!" said Cora, advancing from the place where natural
horror had, until this moment, held her riveted to the rock; "the path
is open on every side; fly, then, to the woods, and call on God for
succor. Go, brave men, we owe you too much already; let us no longer
involve you in our hapless fortunes!"

"You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you judge they
have left the path open to the woods!" returned Hawkeye, who, however,
immediately added in his simplicity, "the down stream current, it is
certain, might soon sweep us beyond the reach of their rifles or the
sounds of their voices."

"Then try the river. Why linger to add to the number of the victims of
our merciless enemies?"

"Why," repeated the scout, looking about him proudly, "because it is
better for a man to die at peace with himself than to live haunted by an
evil conscience! What answer could we give Munro, when he asked us where
and how we left his children?"

"Go to him, and say, that you left them with a message to hasten to
their aid," returned Cora, advancing nigher to the scout, in her
generous ardor; "that the Hurons bear them into the northern wilds, but
that by vigilance and speed they may yet be rescued; and if, after all,
it should please heaven that his assistance come too late, bear to him,"
she continued, her voice gradually lowering, until it seemed nearly
choked, "the love, the blessings, the final prayers of his daughters,
and bid him not mourn their early fate, but to look forward with humble
confidence to the Christian's goal to meet his children."

The hard, weather-beaten features of the scout began to work, and when
she had ended, he dropped his chin to his hand, like a man musing
profoundly on the nature of the proposal.

"There is reason in her words!" at length broke from his compressed and
trembling lips; "ay, and they bear the spirit of Christianity; what
might be right and proper in a redskin, may be sinful in a man who has
not even a cross in blood to plead for his ignorance. Chingachgook!
Uncas! hear you the talk of the dark-eyed woman!"

He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and his address, though calm
and deliberate, seemed very decided. The elder Mohican heard him with
deep gravity, and appeared to ponder on his words, as though he felt the
importance of their import. After a moment of hesitation, he waved his
hand in assent, and uttered the English word "Good!" with the peculiar
emphasis of his people. Then, replacing his knife and tomahawk in his
girdle, the warrior moved silently to the edge of the rock which was
most concealed from the banks of the river. Here he paused a moment,
pointed significantly to the woods below, and saying a few words in his
own language, as if indicating his intended route, he dropped into the
water, and sank from before the eyes of the witnesses of his movements.

The scout delayed his departure to speak to the generous girl, whose
breathing became lighter as she saw the success of her remonstrance.

"Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the old," he
said; "and what you have spoken is wise, not to call it by a better
word. If you are led into the woods, that is such of you as may be
spared for a while, break the twigs on the bushes as you pass, and make
the marks of your trail as broad as you can, when, if mortal eyes can
see them, depend on having a friend who will follow to the ends of 'arth
afore he desarts you."

He gave Cora an affectionate shake of the hand, lifted his rifle, and
after regarding it a moment with melancholy solicitude, laid it
carefully aside, and descended to the place where Chingachgook had just
disappeared. For an instant he hung suspended by the rock; and looking
about him, with a countenance of peculiar care, he added, bitterly, "Had
the powder held out, this disgrace could never have befallen!" then,
loosening his hold, the water closed above his head, and he also became
lost to view.

All eyes were now turned on Uncas, who stood leaning against the ragged
rock, in immovable composure. After waiting a short time, Cora pointed
down the river, and said:--

"Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most probably, in safety;
is it not time for you to follow?"

"Uncas will stay," the young Mohican calmly answered in English.

"To increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the chances of
our release! Go, generous young man," Cora continued, lowering her eyes
under the gaze of the Mohican, and, perhaps, with an intuitive
consciousness of her power; "go to my father, as I have said, and be the
most confidential of my messengers. Tell him to trust you with the means
to buy the freedom of his daughters. Go! 'tis my wish, 'tis my prayer,
that you will go!"

The settled, calm look of the young chief changed to an expression of
gloom, but he no longer hesitated. With a noiseless step he crossed the
rock, and dropped into the troubled stream. Hardly a breath was drawn by
those he left behind, until they caught a glimpse of his head emerging
for air, far down the current, when he again sank, and was seen no more.

These sudden and apparently successful experiments had all taken place
in a few minutes of that time which had now become so precious. After
the last look at Uncas, Cora turned, and, with a quivering lip,
addressed herself to Heyward:--

"I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too, Duncan," she
said; "follow, then, the wise example set you by these simple and
faithful beings."

"Is such the faith that Cora Munro would exact from her protector?" said
the young man, smiling mournfully, but with bitterness.

"This is not a time for idle subtleties and false opinions," she
answered; "but a moment when every duty should be equally considered.
To us you can be of no further service here, but your precious life may
be saved for other and nearer friends."

He made no reply, though his eyes fell wistfully on the beautiful form
of Alice, who was clinging to his arm with the dependency of an infant.

"Consider," continued Cora, after a pause, during which she seemed to
struggle with a pang even more acute than any that her fears had
excited, "that the worst to us can be but death; a tribute that all must
pay at the good time of God's appointment."

"There are evils worse than death," said Duncan, speaking hoarsely, and
as if fretful at her importunity, "but which the presence of one who
would die in your behalf may avert."

Cora ceased her entreaties; and, veiling her face in her shawl, drew the
nearly insensible Alice after her into the deepest recess of the inner
cavern.

 Just before dawn, the Iroquois attack with rifles and wound Gamut. Chingachgook returns fire. Heyward takes Cora, Alice, and Gamut to the protection of the outer cave. Hawkeye fights valiantly throughout the day. He believes their only hope is to defend the rock until Munro sends reinforcements. Dawn approaches, and a long, quiet watch begins. Hawkeye and Heyward hide in the thickets to monitor the enemy. Hawkeye detects four Indians swimming dangerously close to the rock. Hawkeye calls to Uncas for assistance, and another battle begins. When an Indian wounds Heyward slightly, firing down from an oak tree, Hawkeye retaliates with his rifle, which he calls Killdeer. However, the shot only wounds the Indian. Hawkeye's first impulse is to show no mercy, but he uses his last bullet and gunpowder to kill the Indian and end his suffering. Uncas looks for more ammunition but discovers it has been stolen by the Iroquois. Outnumbered and outgunned, the group feels defeated until Cora suggests a plan. She proposes that the men escape down the river. The Indians will not kill the women, and the men can rescue them later. Chingachgook slips into the river and swims away, followed immediately by Hawkeye, who must leave behind his rifle. Though Uncas does not wish to leave Cora, she urges him to go to her father as her personal messenger, at which point he too slips into the river. Heyward refuses to go, saying that his presence may preserve the safety of the girls

