"Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury."
_Midsummer Night's Dream._
The words were still in the mouth of the scout, when the leader of the
party, whose approaching footsteps had caught the vigilant ear of the
Indian, came openly into view. A beaten path, such as those made by the
periodical passage of the deer, wound through a little glen at no great
distance, and struck the river at the point where the white man and his
red companions had posted themselves. Along this track the travellers,
who had produced a surprise so unusual in the depths of the forest,
advanced slowly towards the hunter, who was in front of his associates,
in readiness to receive them.
"Who comes?" demanded the scout, throwing his rifle carelessly across
his left arm, and keeping the forefinger of his right hand on the
trigger, though he avoided all appearance of menace in the act, "Who
comes hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"
"Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the king,"
returned he who rode foremost. "Men who have journeyed since the rising
sun, in the shades of this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly
tired of their wayfaring."
"You are, then, lost," interrupted the hunter, "and have found how
helpless 'tis not to know whether to take the right hand or the left?"
"Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide them
than we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess the
stature without the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to a post of
the crown called William Henry?"
"Hoot!" shouted the scout, who did not spare his open laughter, though,
instantly checking the dangerous sounds, he indulged his merriment at
less risk of being overheard by any lurking enemies. "You are as much
off the scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt him and the deer!
William Henry, man! if you are friends to the king, and have business
with the army, your better way would be to follow the river down to
Edward, and lay the matter before Webb; who tarries there, instead of
pushing into the defiles, and driving this saucy Frenchman back across
Champlain, into his den again."
Before the stranger could make any reply to this unexpected proposition,
another horseman dashed the bushes aside, and leaped his charger into
the pathway, in front of his companion.
"What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?" demanded a new
speaker; "the place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and our
destination is the head of the lake."
"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way, for the
road across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a
path, I calculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the
palace of the king himself."
"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the passage," returned
Heyward, smiling; for, as the reader has anticipated, it was he. "It is
enough, for the present, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us
by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in his
knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are."
"An Indian lost in the woods!" said the scout, shaking his head
doubtingly; "when the sun is scorching the tree-tops, and the
water-courses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees, will tell
him in which quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods are
full of deer paths which run to the streams and licks, places well known
to everybody; nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters
altogether! 'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican
and the bend in the river. Is he a Mohawk?"
"Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace was
farther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron."
"Hugh!" exclaimed the two companions of the scout, who had continued,
until this part of the dialogue, seated immovable, and apparently
indifferent to what passed, but who now sprang to their feet with an
activity and interest that had evidently got the better of their
reserve, by surprise.
"A Huron!" repeated the sturdy scout, once more shaking his head in open
distrust; "they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they are
adopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds.
Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only
wonder that you have not fallen in with more."
"Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles in
our front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk,
and that he serves with our forces as a friend."
"And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo," returned
the other, positively. "A Mohawk! No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican
for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won't all do, having
suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women--but when
they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a
warrior!"
"Enough of this," said Heyward, impatiently; "I wish not to inquire into
the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be a stranger.
You have not yet answered my question: what is our distance from the
main army at Edward?"
"It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such a
horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and
sun-down."
"I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend," said Heyward,
curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a more gentle voice;
"if you will tell me the distance to Fort Edward, and conduct me
thither, your labor shall not go without its reward."
"And in so doing, how know I that I don't guide an enemy, and a spy of
Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak
the English tongue that is an honest subject."
"If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, you
should know of such a regiment of the king as the 60th."
"The 60th! you can tell me little of the Royal Americans that I don't
know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket."
"Well, then, among the other things, you may know the name of its
major?"
"Its major!" interrupted the hunter, elevating his body like one who was
proud of his trust. "If there is a man in the country who knows Major
Effingham, he stands before you."
"It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you name is the
senior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the
companies in garrison at William Henry."
"Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from one
of the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to
hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to
bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant
gentleman!"
"Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his rank, he now
speaks to you, and of course can be no enemy to dread."
The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his cap, he
answered, in a tone less confident than before, though still expressing
doubt,--
"I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this morning, for the
lake shore."
"You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting to
the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."
"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"
"Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is to be found
in the rear."
"I should like to look at the creatur'; if it is a true Iroquois I can
tell him by his knavish look, and by his paint," said the scout,
stepping past the charger of Heyward, and entering the path behind the
mare of the singing-master, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt
to exact the maternal contribution. After shoving aside the bushes, and
proceeding a few paces, he encountered the females, who awaited the
result of the conference with anxiety, and not entirely without
apprehension. Behind these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he
stood the close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though
with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself excite fear.
Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed
the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answering to
the smile and nod of Alice with a look of open pleasure. Thence he went
to the side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless
inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook his head and returned
to Heyward.
"A Mingo is a Mingo, and God having made him so, neither the Mohawks nor
any other tribe can alter him," he said, when he had regained his former
position. "If we were alone, and you would leave that noble horse at the
mercy of the wolves to-night, I could show you the way to Edward,
myself, within an hour, for it lies only about an hour's journey hence;
but with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"
"And why? they are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a few
more miles."
"'Tis a natural impossibility!" repeated the scout; "I wouldn't walk a
mile in these woods after night gets into them, in company with that
runner, for the best rifle in the colonies. They are full of outlying
Iroquois, and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well, to
be my companion."
"Think you so?" said Heyward, leaning forward in the saddle, and
dropping his voice nearly to a whisper; "I confess I have not been
without my own suspicions, though I have endeavored to conceal them, and
affected a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my
companions. It was because I suspected him that I would follow no
longer; making him, as you see, follow me."
"I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid eyes on him!"
returned the scout, placing a finger on his nose, in sign of caution.
"The thief is leaning against the foot of the sugar sapling, that you
can see over them bushes; his right leg is in a line with the bark of
the tree, and," tapping his rifle, "I can take him from where I stand,
between the ankle and the knee, with a single shot, putting an end to
his tramping through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I
should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and
be dodging through the trees like a frightened deer."
"It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. Though, if I
felt confident of his treachery--"
"'Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an Iroquois," said the
scout, throwing his rifle forward, by a sort of instinctive movement.
"Hold!" interrupted Heyward, "it will not do--we must think of some
other scheme; and yet, I have much reason to believe the rascal has
deceived me."
The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of maiming the
runner, mused a moment, and then made a gesture, which instantly brought
his two red companions to his side. They spoke together earnestly in the
Delaware language, though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the
white man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the
sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of their hidden
enemy. His companions were not long in comprehending his wishes, and
laying aside their fire-arms, they parted, taking opposite sides of the
path, and burying themselves in the thicket, with such cautious
movements, that their steps were inaudible.
"Now, go you back," said the hunter, speaking again to Heyward, "and
hold the imp in talk; these Mohicans here will take him without breaking
his paint."
"Nay," said Heyward, proudly, "I will seize him myself."
"Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an Indian in the bushes?"
"I will dismount."
"And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out of the stirrup, he
would wait for the other to be free? Whoever comes into the woods to
deal with the natives, must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to
prosper in his undertakings. Go, then, talk openly to the miscreant, and
seem to believe him the truest friend you have on 'arth."
Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at the nature of
the office he was compelled to execute. Each moment, however, pressed
upon him a conviction of the critical situation in which he had suffered
his invaluable trust to be involved through his own confidence. The sun
had already disappeared, and the woods, suddenly deprived of his
light,[9] were assuming a dusky hue, which keenly reminded him that the
hour the savage usually chose for his most barbarous and remorseless
acts of vengeance or hostility, was speedily drawing near. Stimulated by
apprehension, he left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud
conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously enlisted
himself in the party of travellers that morning. In passing his gentler
companions Heyward uttered a few words of encouragement, and was pleased
to find that, though fatigued with the exercise of the day, they
appeared to entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was
other than the result of accident. Giving them reason to believe he was
merely employed in a consultation concerning the future route, he
spurred his charger, and drew the reins again, when the animal had
carried him within a few yards of the place where the sullen runner
still stood, leaning against the tree.
"You may see, Magua," he said, endeavoring to assume an air of freedom
and confidence, "that the night is closing around us, and yet we are no
nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb with
the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate.
But, happily we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking
to the singer, that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of the
woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely
till the morning."
The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as he asked, in his
imperfect English, "Is he alone?"
"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward to whom deception was too new to
be assumed without embarrassment. "O! not alone, surely, Magua, for you
know that we are with him."
"Then Le Renard Subtil will go," returned the runner, coolly raising his
little wallet from the place where it had lain at his feet; "and the
pale-faces will see none but their own color."
"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"
"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua," returned the
runner, with an air that manifested his pride at the distinction. "Night
is the same as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him."
"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William Henry
concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman
that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be
one?"
"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le Renard will
not hear him, or feel him, in the woods."
"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bid
him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted
with the business of a man."
"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bones
of his fathers," was the answer of the unmoved runner.
"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends? Why should there be
bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services
when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary
limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to
spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women. When the
ladies are refreshed we will proceed."
"The pale-faces make themselves dogs to their women," muttered the
Indian, in his native language, "and when they want to eat, their
warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to feed their laziness."
"What say you, Renard?"
"Le Subtil says it is good."
The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open countenance of
Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned them quickly away, and
seating himself deliberately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of
some former repast, and began to eat, though not without first bending
his looks slowly and cautiously around him.
"This is well," continued Heyward; "and Le Renard will have strength and
sight to find the path in the morning;" he paused, for sounds like the
snapping of a dried stick, and the rustling of leaves, rose from the
adjacent bushes, but recollecting himself instantly, he continued,--"we
must be moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our path,
and shut us out from the fortress."
The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his
eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his
nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed even to stand more erect than
usual, giving to him the appearance of a statue that was made to
represent intense attention.
Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye, carelessly
extricated one of his feet from the stirrup, while he passed a hand
towards the bear-skin covering of his holsters. Every effort to detect
the point most regarded by the runner was completely frustrated by the
tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest a single
instant on any particular object, and which, at the same time, could be
hardly said to move. While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil
cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and
guarded, that not the slightest noise was produced by the change.
Heyward felt it had now become incumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg
over the saddle, he dismounted, with a determination to advance and
seize his treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own manhood.
In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm, he still preserved an
air of calmness and friendship.
"Le Renard Subtil does not eat," he said, using the appellation he had
found most flattering to the vanity of the Indian. "His corn is not well
parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be
found among my own provisions that will help his appetite."
Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He even suffered
their hands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his
riveted attitude of attention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward
moving gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the
young man, and uttering a piercing cry as he darted beneath it, plunged,
at a single bound, into the opposite thicket. At the next instant the
form of Chingachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a spectre in
its paint, and glided across the path in swift pursuit. Next followed
the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash, that
was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's rifle.