Chapter: "Why, anything:
  An honorable murderer, if you will;
  For naught I did in hate, but all in honor."

  _Othello._


The bloody and inhuman scene rather incidentally mentioned than
described in the preceding chapter, is conspicuous in the pages of
colonial history, by the merited title of "The Massacre of William
Henry." It so far deepened the stain which a previous and very similar
event had left upon the reputation of the French commander, that it was
not entirely erased by his early and glorious death. It is now becoming
obscured by time; and thousands, who know that Montcalm died like a hero
on the plains of Abraham, have yet to learn how much he was deficient in
that moral courage without which no man can be truly great. Pages might
be written to prove, from this illustrious example, the defects of human
excellence; to show how easy it is for generous sentiments, high
courtesy, and chivalrous courage, to lose their influence beneath the
chilling blight of selfishness, and to exhibit to the world a man who
was great in all the minor attributes of character, but who was found
wanting when it became necessary to prove how much principle is superior
to policy. But the task would exceed our prerogatives; and, as history,
like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of
imaginary brightness, it is probable that Louis de Saint Veran will be
viewed by posterity only as the gallant defender of his country, while
his cruel apathy on the shores of the Oswego and of the Horican will be
forgotten. Deeply regretting this weakness on the part of a sister muse,
we shall at once retire from her sacred precincts, within the proper
limits of our own humble vocation.

The third day from the capture of the fort was drawing to a close, but
the business of the narrative must still detain the reader on the shores
of the "holy lake." When last seen, the environs of the works were
filled with violence and uproar. They were now possessed by stillness
and death. The blood-stained conquerors had departed; and their camp,
which had so lately rung with the merry rejoicings of a victorious army,
lay a silent and deserted city of huts. The fortress was a smouldering
ruin; charred rafters, fragments of exploded artillery, and rent
mason-work, covering its earthen mounds in confused disorder.

A frightful change had also occurred in the season. The sun had hid its
warmth behind an impenetrable mass of vapor, and hundreds of human
forms, which had blackened beneath the fierce heats of August, were
stiffening in their deformity, before the blasts of a premature
November. The curling and spotless mists, which had been seen sailing
above the hills towards the north, were now returning in an interminable
dusky sheet, that was urged along by the fury of a tempest. The crowded
mirror of the Horican was gone; and, in its place, the green and angry
waters lashed the shores, as if indignantly casting back its impurities
to the polluted strand. Still the clear fountain retained a portion of
its charmed influence, but it reflected only the sombre gloom that fell
from the impending heavens. That humid and congenial atmosphere which
commonly adorned the view, veiling its harshness, and softening its
asperities, had disappeared, and the northern air poured across the
waste of water so harsh and unmingled, that nothing was left to be
conjectured by the eye, or fashioned by the fancy.

The fiercer element had cropped the verdure of the plain, which looked
as though it were scathed by the consuming lightning. But, here and
there, a dark green tuft rose in the midst of the desolation; the
earliest fruits of a soil that had been fattened with human blood. The
whole landscape, which, seen by a favoring light, and in a genial
temperature, had been found so lovely, appeared now like some pictured
allegory of life, in which objects were arrayed in their harshest but
truest colors, and without the relief of any shadowing.

The solitary and arid blades of grass arose from the passing gusts
fearfully perceptible; the bold and rocky mountains were too distinct in
their barrenness, and the eye even sought relief, in vain, by attempting
to pierce the illimitable void of heaven, which was shut to its gaze by
the dusky sheet of ragged and driving vapor.

The wind blew unequally; sometimes sweeping heavily along the ground,
seeming to whisper its moanings in the cold ears of the dead, then
rising in a shrill and mournful whistling, it entered the forest with a
rush that filled the air with the leaves and branches it scattered in
its path. Amid the unnatural shower, a few hungry ravens struggled with
the gale; but no sooner was the green ocean of woods, which stretched
beneath them, passed, than they gladly stopped, at random, to their
hideous banquet.

In short, it was the scene of wildness and desolation; and it appeared
as if all who had profanely entered it had been stricken, at a blow, by
the relentless arm of death. But the prohibition had ceased; and for the
first time since the perpetrators of those foul deeds which had assisted
to disfigure the scene were gone, living human beings had now presumed
to approach the place.

About an hour before the setting of the sun, on the day already
mentioned, the forms of five men might have been seen issuing from the
narrow vista of trees, where the path to the Hudson entered the forest,
and advancing in the direction of the ruined works. At first their
progress was slow and guarded, as though they entered with reluctance
amid the horrors of the spot, or dreaded the renewal of its frightful
incidents. A light figure preceded the rest of the party, with the
caution and activity of a native; ascending every hillock to
reconnoitre, and indicating, by gestures, to his companions, the route
he deemed it most prudent to pursue. Nor were those in the rear wanting
in every caution and foresight known to forest warfare. One among them,
he also was an Indian, moved a little on one flank, and watched the
margin of the woods, with eyes long accustomed to read the smallest sign
of danger. The remaining three were white, though clad in vestments
adapted, both in quality and color, to their present hazardous
pursuit,--that of hanging on the skirts of a retiring army in the
wilderness.

The effects produced by the appalling sights that constantly arose in
their path to the lake shore, were as different as the characters of the
respective individuals who composed the party. The youth in front threw
serious but furtive glances at the mangled victims, as he stepped
lightly across the plain, afraid to exhibit his feelings, and yet too
inexperienced to quell entirely their sudden and powerful influence. His
red associate, however, was superior to such a weakness. He passed the
groups of dead with a steadiness of purpose, and an eye so calm, that
nothing but long and inveterate practice could enable him to maintain.
The sensations produced in the minds of even the white men were
different, though uniformly sorrowful. One, whose gray locks and
furrowed lineaments, blending with a martial air and tread, betrayed, in
spite of the disguise of a woodsman's dress, a man long experienced in
scenes of war, was not ashamed to groan aloud, whenever a spectacle of
more than usual horror came under his view. The young man at his elbow
shuddered, but seemed to suppress his feelings in tenderness to his
companion. Of them all, the straggler who brought up the rear appeared
alone to betray his real thoughts, without fear of observation or dread
of consequences. He gazed at the most appalling sight with eyes and
muscles that knew not how to waver, but with execrations so bitter and
deep as to denote how much he denounced the crime of his enemies.

The reader will perceive at once, in these respective characters, the
Mohicans, and their white friend, the scout; together with Munro and
Heyward. It was, in truth, the father in quest of his children, attended
by the youth who felt so deep a stake in their happiness, and those
brave and trusty foresters, who had already proved their skill and
fidelity through the trying scenes related.

When Uncas, who moved in front, had reached the centre of the plain, he
raised a cry that drew his companions in a body to the spot. The young
warrior had halted over a group of females who lay in a cluster, a
confused mass of dead. Notwithstanding the revolting horror of the
exhibition, Munro and Heyward flew towards the festering heap,
endeavoring, with a love that no unseemliness could extinguish, to
discover whether any vestiges of those they sought were to be seen among
the tattered and many-colored garments. The father and lover found
instant relief in the search; though each was condemned again to
experience the misery of an uncertainty that was hardly less
insupportable than the most revolting truth. They were standing, silent
and thoughtful, around the melancholy pile, when the scout approached.
Eying the sad spectacle with an angry countenance, the sturdy woodsman,
for the first time since his entering the plain, spoke intelligibly and
aloud:--

"I have been on many a shocking field, and have followed a trail of
blood for many miles," he said, "but never have I found the hand of the
devil so plain as it is here to be seen! Revenge is an Indian feeling,
and all who know me know that there is no cross in my veins; but this
much will I say--here, in the face of heaven, and with the power of the
Lord so manifest in this howling wilderness,--that should these
Frenchers ever trust themselves again within the range of a ragged
bullet, there is one rifle shall play its part, so long as flint will
fire or powder burn! I leave the tomahawk and knife to such as have a
natural gift to use them. What say you, Chingachgook," he added in
Delaware; "shall the Hurons boast of this to their women when the deep
snows come?"

A gleam of resentment flashed across the dark lineaments of the Mohican
chief: he loosened his knife in its sheath; and then turning calmly from
the sight, his countenance settled into a repose as deep as if he never
knew the instigation of passion.

"Montcalm! Montcalm!" continued the deeply resentful and less
self-restrained scout; "they say a time must come, when all the deeds
done in the flesh will be seen at a single look; and that by eyes
cleared from mortal infirmities. Woe betide the wretch who is born to
behold this plain, with the judgment hanging about his soul! Ha--as I am
a man of white blood, yonder lies a redskin, without the hair of his
head where nature rooted it! Look to him, Delaware; it may be one of
your missing people; and he should have burial like a stout warrior. I
see it in your eye, Sagamore: a Huron pays for this, afore the fall
winds have blown away the scent of the blood!"

Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and turning it over, he
found the distinguishing marks of one of those six allied tribes, or
nations, as they were called, who, while they fought in the English
ranks, were so deadly hostile to his own people. Spurning the loathsome
object with his foot, he turned from it with the same indifference he
would have quitted a brute carcass. The scout comprehended the action,
and very deliberately pursued his own way, continuing, however, his
denunciations against the French commander in the same resentful strain.

"Nothing but vast wisdom and unlimited power should dare to sweep off
men in multitudes," he added; "for it is only the one that can know the
necessity of the judgment; and what is there, short of the other, that
can replace the creatures of the Lord? I hold it a sin to kill the
second buck afore the first is eaten, unless a march in the front, or an
ambushment, be contemplated. It is a different matter with a few
warriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to die with the
rifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as their natures may happen to
be, white or red. Uncas, come this way, lad, and let the ravens settle
upon the Mingo. I know, from often seeing it, that they have a craving
for the flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird follow the
gift of its natural appetite."

"Hugh!" exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on the extremities of his
feet, and gazing intently in his front, frightening the raven to some
other prey, by the sound and the action.

"What is it, boy?" whispered the scout, lowering his tall form into a
crouching attitude, like a panther about to take his leap; "God send it
be a tardy Frencher, skulking for plunder. I do believe 'Killdeer' would
take an oncommon range to-day!"

Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot, and in the
next instant he was seen tearing from a bush, and waving in triumph a
fragment of the green riding-veil of Cora. The movement, the exhibition,
and the cry, which again burst from the lips of the young Mohican,
instantly drew the whole party about him.

"My child!" said Munro, speaking quick and wildly "give me my child!"

"Uncas will try," was the short and touching answer.

The simple but meaning assurance was lost on the father, who seized the
piece of gauze, and crushed it in his hand, while his eyes roamed
fearfully among the bushes, as if he equally dreaded and hoped for the
secrets they might reveal.

"Here are no dead," said Heyward; "the storm seems not to have passed
this way."

"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our heads,"
returned the undisturbed scout; "but either she, or they that have
robbed her, have passed the bush; for I remember the rag she wore to
hide a face that all did love to look upon. Uncas, you are right; the
dark-hair has been here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to the
wood; none who could fly would remain to be murdered. Let us search for
the marks she left; for to Indian eyes, I sometimes think even a
humming-bird leaves his trail in the air."

The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, and the scout had
hardly done speaking, before the former raised a cry of success from the
margin of the forest. On reaching the spot, the anxious party perceived
another portion of the veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.

"Softly, softly," said the scout, extending his long rifle in front of
the eager Heyward; "we now know our work, but the beauty of the trail
must not be deformed. A step too soon may give us hours of trouble. We
have them, though; that much is beyond denial."

"Bless ye, bless ye, worthy man!" exclaimed Munro; "whither, then, have
they fled, and where are my babes?"

"The path they have taken depends on many chances. If they have gone
alone, they are quite as likely to move in a circle as straight, and
they may be within a dozen miles of us; but if the Hurons, or any of the
French Indians, have laid hands on them, 'tis probable they are now near
the borders of the Canadas. But what matters that?" continued the
deliberate scout, observing the powerful anxiety and disappointment the
listeners exhibited; "here are the Mohicans and I on one end of the
trail, and, rely on it, we find the other, though they should be a
hundred leagues asunder! Gently, gently, Uncas, you are as impatient as
a man in the settlements; you forget that light feet leave but faint
marks!"

"Hugh!" exclaimed Chingachgook, who had been occupied in examining an
opening that had been evidently made through the low underbrush, which
skirted the forest; and who now stood erect, as he pointed downwards, in
the attitude and with the air of a man who beheld a disgusting serpent.

"Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a man," cried
Heyward, bending over the indicated spot; "he has trod in the margin of
this pool, and the mark cannot be mistaken. They are captives."

"Better so than left to starve in the wilderness," returned the scout;
"and they will leave a wider trail. I would wager fifty beaver skins
against as many flints, that the Mohicans and I enter their wigwams
within the month! Stoop to it, Uncas, and try what you can make of the
moccasin; for moccasin it plainly is, and no shoe."

The young Mohican bent over the track, and removing the scattered leaves
from around the place, he examined it with much of that sort of scrutiny
that a money-dealer, in these days of pecuniary doubts, would bestow on
a suspected due-bill. At length he arose from his knees, satisfied with
the result of the examination.

"Well, boy," demanded the attentive scout, "what does it say? can you
make anything of the tell-tale?"

"Le Renard Subtil!"

"Ha! that rampaging devil again! there never will be an end of his
loping, till 'Killdeer' has said a friendly word to him."

Heyward reluctantly admitted the truth of this intelligence, and now
expressed rather his hopes than his doubts by saying,--

"One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable there is some
mistake."

"One moccasin like another! you may as well say that one foot is like
another; though we all know that some are long, and others short; some
broad, and others narrow; some with high, and some with low insteps;
some in-toed, and some out. One moccasin is no more like another than
one book is like another; though they who can read in one are seldom
able to tell the marks of the other. Which is all ordered for the best,
giving to every man his natural advantages. Let me get down to it,
Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the worse for having two opinions,
instead of one." The scout stooped to the task, and instantly added,
"You are right, boy; here is the patch we saw so often in the other
chase. And the fellow will drink when he can get an opportunity: your
drinking Indian always learns to walk with a wider toe than the natural
savage, it being the gift of a drunkard to straddle, whether of white or
red skin. 'Tis just the length and breadth too! look at it, Sagamore:
you measured the prints more than once, when we hunted the varmints from
Glenn's to the health-springs."

Chingachgook complied; and after finishing his short examination, he
arose, and with a quiet demeanor, he merely pronounced the word--

"Magua!"

"Ay, 'tis a settled thing; here then have passed the dark-hair and
Magua."

"And not Alice?" demanded Heyward.

"Of her we have not yet seen the signs," returned the scout, looking
closely around at the trees, the bushes, and the ground. "What have we
there? Uncas, bring hither the thing you see dangling from yonder
thorn-bush."

When the Indian had complied, the scout received the prize, and holding
it on high, he laughed in his silent but heartfelt manner.

"'Tis the tooting we'pon of the singer! now we shall have a trail a
priest might travel," he said. "Uncas, look for the marks of a shoe that
is long enough to uphold six feet two of tottering human flesh. I begin
to have some hopes of the fellow, since he has given up squalling to
follow some better trade."

"At least, he has been faithful to his trust," said Heyward; "and Cora
and Alice are not without a friend."

"Yes," said Hawkeye, dropping his rifle, and leaning on it with an air
of visible contempt, "he will do their singing. Can he slay a buck for
their dinner; journey by the moss on the beeches, or cut the throat of a
Huron? If not, the first catbird[22] he meets is the cleverest of the
two. Well, boy, any signs of such a foundation?"

"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a shoe; can it
be that of our friend?"

"Touch the leaves lightly, or you'll disconsart the formation. That!
that is the print of a foot, but 'tis the dark-hair's; and small it is,
too, for one of such a noble height and grand appearance. The singer
would cover it with his heel."

"Where! let me look on the footsteps of my child," said Munro, shoving
the bushes aside, and bending fondly over the nearly obliterated
impression. Though the tread, which had left the mark, had been light
and rapid, it was still plainly visible. The aged soldier examined it
with eyes that grew dim as he gazed; nor did he rise from his stooping
posture until Heyward saw that he had watered the trace of his
daughter's passage with a scalding tear. Willing to divert a distress
which threatened each moment to break through the restraint of
appearances, by giving the veteran something to do, the young man said
to the scout,--

"As we now possess these infallible signs, let us commence our march. A
moment, at such a time, will appear an age to the captives."

"It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the longest chase,"
returned Hawkeye, without moving his eyes from the different marks that
had come under his view; "we know that the rampaging Huron has
passed,--and the dark hair,--and the singer,--but where is she of the
yellow locks and blue eyes? Though little, and far from being as bold as
her sister, she is fair to the view, and pleasant in discourse. Has she
no friend, that none care for her?"

"God forbid she should ever want hundreds! Are we not now in her
pursuit? for one, I will never cease the search till she be found."

"In that case we may have to journey by different paths; for here she
has not passed, light and little as her footstep would be."

Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming to vanish on the
instant. Without attending to this sudden change in the other's humor,
the scout, after musing a moment, continued,--

"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a print as that,
but the dark-hair or her sister. We know that the first has been here,
but where are the signs of the other? Let us push deeper on the trail,
and if nothing offers, we must go back to the plain and strike another
scent. Move on, Uncas, and keep your eyes on the dried leaves. I will
watch the bushes, while your father shall run with a low nose to the
ground. Move on, friends; the sun is getting behind the hills."

"Is there nothing that I can do?" demanded the anxious Heyward.

"You!" repeated the scout, who, with his red friends, was already
advancing in the order he had prescribed; "yes, you can keep in our
rear, and be careful not to cross the trail."

Before they had proceeded many rods, the Indians stopped, and appeared
to gaze at some signs on the earth, with more than their usual keenness.
Both father and son spoke quick and loud, now looking at the object of
their mutual admiration, and now regarding each other with the most
unequivocal pleasure.

"They have found the little foot!" exclaimed the scout, moving forward,
without attending further to his own portion of the duty. "What have we
here? An ambushment has been planted in the spot? No, by the truest
rifle on the frontiers, here have been them one-sided horses again! Now
the whole secret is out, and all is plain as the north star at midnight.
Yes, here they have mounted. There the beasts have been bound to a
sapling, in waiting; and yonder runs the broad path away to the north,
in full sweep for the Canadas."

"But still there are no signs of Alice--of the younger Miss
Munro,"--said Duncan.

"Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from the ground should
prove one. Pass it this way, lad, that we may look at it."

Heyward instantly knew it for a trinket that Alice was fond of wearing,
and which he recollected, with the tenacious memory of a lover, to have
seen, on the fatal morning of the massacre, dangling from the fair neck
of his mistress. He seized the highly prized jewel; and as he proclaimed
the fact, it vanished from the eyes of the wondering scout, who in vain
looked for it on the ground, long after it was warmly pressed against
the beating heart of Duncan.

"Pshaw!" said the disappointed Hawkeye, ceasing to rake the leaves with
the breech of his rifle; "'tis a certain sign of age, when the sight
begins to weaken. Such a glittering gewgaw, and not to be seen! Well,
well, I can squint along a clouded barrel yet, and that is enough to
settle all disputes between me and the Mingos. I should like to find the
thing too, if it were only to carry it to the right owner, and that
would be bringing the two ends of what I call a long trail
together,--for by this time the broad St. Lawrence, or, perhaps, the
Great Lakes themselves, are atwixt us."

"So much the more reason why we should not delay our march," returned
Heyward; "let us proceed."

"Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the same thing. We are
not about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to drive a deer into the
Horican, but to outlie for days and nights, and to stretch across a
wilderness where the feet of men seldom go, and where no bookish
knowledge would carry you through harmless. An Indian never starts on
such an expedition without smoking over his council-fire; and though a
man of white blood, I honor their customs in this particular, seeing
that they are deliberate and wise. We will, therefore, go back, and
light our fire to-night in the ruins of the old fort, and in the morning
we shall be fresh, and ready to undertake our work like men, and not
like babbling women or eager boys."

Heyward saw, by the manner of the scout, that altercation would be
useless. Munro had again sunk into that sort of apathy which had beset
him since his late overwhelming misfortunes, and from which he was
apparently to be roused only by some new and powerful excitement. Making
a merit of necessity, the young man took the veteran by the arm, and
followed in the footsteps of the Indians and the scout, who had already
begun to retrace the path which conducted them to the plain.

 On the third day after the surprise attack, Hawkeye, the Mohicans, Munro, and Heyward approach the besieged ramparts, which still smoke with fire and smell of death. Cora and Alice remain missing, and the men desperately seek for signs of life. They find no apparent signals or codes. When they begin looking for a trail, Uncas discovers part of Cora's green riding veil. Other clues lead the men to the former location of the horses, and they conclude that the girls, accompanied by Magua and Gamut, have gone into the wilderness. Heyward wants to pursue them immediately, but Hawkeye insists upon careful deliberation and planning. Munro, depressed by his daughters' disappearance, is apathetic

