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.

 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.

