CHAPTER XII

"_Clo._--I am gone, sir,

And anon, sir,

I'll be with you again."

_Twelfth Night._

The Hurons stood aghast at this sudden visitation of death on one of

their band. But, as they regarded the fatal accuracy of an aim which had

dared to immolate an enemy at so much hazard to a friend, the name of

"La Longue Carabine" burst simultaneously from every lip, and was

succeeded by a wild and a sort of plaintive howl. The cry was answered

by a loud shout from a little thicket, where the incautious party had

piled their arms; and at the next moment, Hawkeye, too eager to load the

rifle he had regained, was seen advancing upon them, brandishing the

clubbed weapon, and cutting the air with wide and powerful sweeps. Bold

and rapid as was the progress of the scout, it was exceeded by that of a

light and vigorous form which, bounding past him, leaped, with

incredible activity and daring, into the very centre of the Hurons,

where it stood, whirling a tomahawk, and flourishing a glittering knife,

with fearful menaces, in front of Cora. Quicker than the thoughts could

follow these unexpected and audacious movements, an image, armed in the

emblematic panoply of death, glided before their eyes, and assumed a

threatening attitude at the other's side. The savage tormentors recoiled

before these warlike intruders, and uttered as they appeared in such

quick succession, the often repeated and peculiar exclamation of

surprise, followed by the well known and dreaded appellations of--

"Le Cerf Agile! Le Gros Serpent!"

But the wary and vigilant leader of the Hurons was not so easily

disconcerted. Casting his keen eyes around the little plain, he

comprehended the nature of the assault at a glance, and encouraging his

followers by his voice as well as by his example, he unsheathed his long

and dangerous knife, and rushed with a loud whoop upon the expecting

Chingachgook. It was the signal for a general combat. Neither party had

fire-arms, and the contest was to be decided in the deadliest manner;

hand to hand, with weapons of offence, and none of defence.

Uncas answered the whoop, and leaping on an enemy, with a single, well

directed blow of his tomahawk, cleft him to the brain. Heyward tore the

weapon of Magua from the sapling, and rushed eagerly towards the fray.

As the combatants were now equal in number, each singled an opponent

from the adverse band. The rush and blows passed with the fury of a

whirlwind, and the swiftness of lightning. Hawkeye soon got another

enemy within reach of his arm, and with one sweep of his formidable

weapon he beat down the slight and inartificial defences of his

antagonist, crushing him to the earth with the blow. Heyward ventured to

hurl the tomahawk he had seized, too ardent to await the moment of

closing. It struck the Indian he had selected on the forehead, and

checked for an instant his onward rush. Encouraged by this slight

advantage, the impetuous young man continued his onset, and sprang upon

his enemy with naked hands. A single instant was enough to assure him of

the rashness of the measure, for he immediately found himself fully

engaged, with all his activity and courage, in endeavoring to ward the

desperate thrusts made with the knife of the Huron. Unable longer to

foil an enemy so alert and vigilant, he threw his arms about him, and

succeeded in pinning the limbs of the other to his side, with an iron

grasp, but one that was far too exhausting to himself to continue long.

In this extremity he heard a voice near him, shouting--

"Extarminate the varlets! no quarter to an accursed Mingo!"

At the next moment, the breech of Hawkeye's rifle fell on the naked head

of his adversary, whose muscles appeared to wither under the shock, as

he sank from the arms of Duncan, flexible and motionless.

When Uncas had brained his first antagonist, he turned, like a hungry

lion, to seek another. The fifth and only Huron disengaged at the first

onset had paused a moment, and then seeing that all around him were

employed in the deadly strife, he sought, with hellish vengeance, to

complete the baffled work of revenge. Raising a shout of triumph, he

sprang towards the defenceless Cora, sending his keen axe, as the

dreadful precursor of his approach. The tomahawk grazed her shoulder,

and cutting the withes which bound her to the tree, left the maiden at

liberty to fly. She eluded the grasp of the savage, and reckless of her

own safety, threw herself on the bosom of Alice, striving with

convulsed and ill-directed fingers, to tear asunder the twigs which

confined the person of her sister. Any other than a monster would have

relented at such an act of generous devotion to the best and purest

affection; but the breast of the Huron was a stranger to sympathy.

Seizing Cora by the rich tresses which fell in confusion about her form,

he tore her from her frantic hold, and bowed her down with brutal

violence to her knees. The savage drew the flowing curls through his

hand, and raising them on high with an outstretched arm, he passed the

knife around the exquisitely moulded head of his victim, with a taunting

and exulting laugh. But he purchased this moment of fierce gratification

with the loss of the fatal opportunity. It was just then the sight

caught the eye of Uncas. Bounding from his footsteps he appeared for an

instant darting through the air, and descending in a ball he fell on the

chest of his enemy, driving him many yards from the spot, headlong and

prostrate. The violence of the exertion cast the young Mohican at his

side. They arose together, fought, and bled, each in his turn. But the

conflict was soon decided; the tomahawk of Heyward and the rifle of

Hawkeye descended on the skull of the Huron, at the same moment that the

knife of Uncas reached his heart.

The battle was now entirely terminated, with the exception of the

protracted struggle between Le Renard Subtil and Le Gros Serpent. Well

did these barbarous warriors prove that they deserved those significant

names which had been bestowed for deeds in former wars. When they

engaged, some little time was lost in eluding the quick and vigorous

thrusts which had been aimed at their lives. Suddenly darting on each

other, they closed, and came to the earth, twisted together like twining

serpents, in pliant and subtle folds. At the moment when the victors

found themselves unoccupied, the spot where these experienced and

desperate combatants lay, could only be distinguished by a cloud of dust

and leaves which moved from the centre of the little plain towards its

boundary, as if raised by the passage of a whirlwind. Urged by the

different motives of filial affection, friendship, and gratitude,

Heyward and his companions rushed with one accord to the place,

encircling the little canopy of dust which hung above the warriors. In

vain did Uncas dart around the cloud, with a wish to strike his knife

into the heart of his father's foe; the threatening rifle of Hawkeye was

raised and suspended in vain, while Duncan endeavored to seize the

limbs of the Huron with hands that appeared to have lost their power.

Covered, as they were, with dust and blood, the swift evolutions of the

combatants seemed to incorporate their bodies into one. The death-like

looking figure of the Mohican, and the dark form of the Huron, gleamed

before their eyes in such quick and confused succession, that the

friends of the former knew not where nor when to plant the succoring

blow. It is true there were short and fleeting moments, when the fiery

eyes of Magua were seen glittering, like the fabled organs of the

basilisk, through the dusty wreath by which he was enveloped, and he

read by those short and deadly glances the fate of the combat in the

presence of his enemies; ere, however, any hostile hand could descend on

his devoted head, its place was filled by the scowling visage of

Chingachgook. In this manner the scene of the combat was removed from

the centre of the little plain to its verge. The Mohican now found an

opportunity to make a powerful thrust with his knife; Magua suddenly

relinquished his grasp, and fell backward without motion, and seemingly

without life. His adversary leaped on his feet, making the arches of the

forest ring with the sounds of triumph.

"Well done for the Delawares! victory to the Mohican!" cried Hawkeye,

once more elevating the butt of the long and fatal rifle; "a finishing

blow from a man without a cross will never tell against his honor, nor

rob him of his right to the scalp."

But, at the very moment when the dangerous weapon was in the act of

descending, the subtle Huron rolled swiftly from beneath the danger,

over the edge of the precipice, and falling on his feet, was seen

leaping, with a single bound, into the centre of a thicket of low

bushes, which clung along its sides. The Delawares, who had believed

their enemy dead, uttered their exclamation of surprise, and were

following with speed and clamor, like hounds in open view of the deer,

when a shrill and peculiar cry from the scout instantly changed their

purpose, and recalled them to the summit of the hill.

"'Twas like himself," cried the inveterate forester, whose prejudices

contributed so largely to veil his natural sense of justice in all

matters which concerned the Mingos; "a lying and deceitful varlet as he

is. An honest Delaware now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain

still, and been knocked on the head, but these knavish Maquas cling to

life like so many cats-o'-the-mountain. Let him go--let him go; 'tis but

one man, and he without rifle or bow, many a long mile from his French

commerades; and, like a rattler that has lost his fangs, he can do no

further mischief, until such time as he, and we too, may leave the

prints of our moccasins over a long reach of sandy plain. See, Uncas,"

he added, in Delaware, "your father is flaying the scalps already. It

may be well to go round and feel the vagabonds that are left, or we may

have another of them loping through the woods, and screeching like a jay

that has been winged."

[Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_

THE FIGHT IN THE FOREST

_The battle was now entirely terminated, with the exception of the

protracted struggle between Le Renard Subtil and Le Gros Serpent_]

So saying, the honest, but implacable scout, made the circuit of the

dead, into whose senseless bosoms he thrust his long knife, with as much

coolness as though they had been so many brute carcasses. He had,

however, been anticipated by the elder Mohican, who had already torn the

emblems of victory from the unresisting heads of the slain.

But Uncas, denying his habits, we had almost said his nature, flew with

instinctive delicacy, accompanied by Heyward, to the assistance of the

females, and quickly releasing Alice, placed her in the arms of Cora. We

shall not attempt to describe the gratitude to the Almighty Disposer of

events which glowed in the bosoms of the sisters, who were thus

unexpectedly restored to life and to each other. Their thanksgivings

were deep and silent; the offerings of their gentle spirits, burning

brightest and purest on the secret altars of their hearts; and their

renovated and more earthly feelings exhibiting themselves in long and

fervent, though speechless caresses. As Alice rose from her knees, where

she had sunk by the side of Cora, she threw herself on the bosom of the

latter; and sobbed aloud the name of their aged father, while her soft,

dove-like eyes sparkled with the rays of hope.

"We are saved! we are saved!" she murmured; "to return to the arms of

our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be broken with grief. And

you too, Cora, my sister; my more than sister, my mother; you too are

spared. And Duncan," she added, looking round upon the youth with a

smile of ineffable innocence, "even our own brave and noble Duncan has

escaped without a hurt."

To these ardent and nearly incoherent words Cora made no other answer

than by straining the youthful speaker to her heart, as she bent over

her, in melting tenderness. The manhood of Heyward felt no shame in

dropping tears over this spectacle of affectionate rapture; and Uncas

stood, fresh and blood-stained from the combat, a calm, and, apparently,

an unmoved looker-on, it is true, but with eyes that had already lost

their fierceness, and were beaming with a sympathy that elevated him far

above the intelligence, and advanced him probably centuries before the

practices of his nation.

During this display of emotions so natural in their situation, Hawkeye,

whose vigilant distrust had satisfied itself that the Hurons, who

disfigured the heavenly scene, no longer possessed the power to

interrupt its harmony, approached David, and liberated him from the

bonds he had, until that moment, endured with the most exemplary

patience.

"There," exclaimed the scout, casting the last withe behind him, "you

are once more master of your own limbs, though you seem not to use them

with greater judgment than that in which they were first fashioned. If

advice from one who is not older than yourself, but who having lived

most of his time in the wilderness, may be said to have experience

beyond his years, will give no offence, you are welcome to my thoughts;

and these are, to part with the little tooting instrument in your jacket

to the first fool you meet with, and buy some useful we'pon with the

money, if it be only the barrel of a horseman's pistol. By industry and

care, you might thus come to some prefarment; for by this time, I should

think, your eyes would plainly tell you that a carrion crow is a better

bird than a mocking thresher. The one will, at least, remove foul sights

from before the face of man, while the other is only good to brew

disturbances in the woods, by cheating the ears of all that hear them."

"Arms and the clarion for the battle, but the song of thanksgiving to

the victory!" answered the liberated David. "Friend," he added,

thrusting forth his lean, delicate hand towards Hawkeye, in kindness,

while his eyes twinkled and grew moist, "I thank thee that the hairs of

my head still grow where they were first rooted by Providence; for,

though those of other men may be more glossy and curling, I have ever

found mine own well suited to the brain they shelter. That I did not

join myself to the battle, was less owing to disinclination, than to the

bonds of the heathen. Valiant and skilful hast thou proved thyself in

the conflict, and I hereby thank thee, before proceeding to discharge

other and more important duties, because thou hast proved thyself well

worthy of a Christian's praise."

"The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see, if you tarry

long among us," returned the scout, a good deal softened towards the

man of song, by this unequivocal expression of gratitude. "I have got

back my old companion, 'Killdeer,'" he added, striking his hand on the

breech of his rifle; "and that in itself is a victory. These Iroquois

are cunning, but they outwitted themselves when they placed their

fire-arms out of reach; and had Uncas or his father been gifted with

only their common Indian patience, we should have come in upon the

knaves with three bullets instead of one, and that would have made a

finish of the whole pack; yon loping varlet, as well as his commerades.

But 'twas all foreordered, and for the best."

"Thou sayest well," returned David, "and hast caught the true spirit of

Christianity. He that is to be saved will be saved, and he that is

predestined to be damned will be damned. This is the doctrine of truth,

and most consoling and refreshing it is to the true believer."

The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the state of his

rifle with a species of parental assiduity, now looked up at the other

in a displeasure that he did not affect to conceal, roughly interrupting

further speech.

"Doctrine, or no doctrine," said the sturdy woodsman, "'tis the belief

of knaves, and the curse of an honest man. I can credit that yonder

Huron was to fall by my hand, for with my own eyes I have seen it; but

nothing short of being a witness will cause me to think he had met with

any reward, or that Chingachgook, there, will be condemned at the final

day."

"You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor any covenant

to support it," cried David, who was deeply tinctured with the subtle

distinctions which, in his time, and more especially in his province,

had been drawn around the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by

endeavoring to penetrate the awful mystery of the divine nature,

supplying faith by self-sufficiency, and by consequence, involving those

who reasoned from such human dogmas in absurdities and doubt; "your

temple is reared on the sands, and the first tempest will wash away its

foundation. I demand your authorities for such an uncharitable assertion

(like other advocates of a system, David was not always accurate in his

use of terms). Name chapter and verse; in which of the holy books do you

find language to support you?"

"Book!" repeated Hawkeye, with singular and ill-concealed disdain; "do

you take me for a whimpering boy at the apron-string of one of your old

gals; and this good rifle on my knee for the feather of a goose's wing,

my ox's horn for a bottle of ink, and my leathern pouch for a

cross-barred handkercher to carry my dinner? Book! what have such as I,

who am a warrior of the wilderness, though a man without a cross, to do

with books? I never read but in one, and the words that are written

there are too simple and too plain to need much schooling; though I may

boast that of forty long and hard-working years."

"What call you the volume?" said David, misconceiving the other's

meaning.

"Tis open before your eyes," returned the scout; "and he who owns it is

not a niggard of its use. I have heard it said that there are men who

read in books to convince themselves there is a God. I know not but man

may so deform his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so

clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and priests. If

any such there be, and he will follow me from sun to sun, through the

windings of the forest, he shall see enough to teach him that he is a

fool, and that the greatest of his folly lies in striving to rise to the

level of One he can never equal, be it in goodness, or be it in power."

The instant David discovered that he battled with a disputant who

imbibed his faith from the lights of nature, eschewing all subtleties of

doctrine, he willingly abandoned a controversy from which he believed

neither profit nor credit was to be derived. While the scout was

speaking, he had also seated himself, and producing the ready little

volume and the iron-rimmed spectacles, he prepared to discharge a duty,

which nothing but the unexpected assault he had received in his

orthodoxy could have so long suspended. He was, in truth, a minstrel of

the western continent--of a much later day, certainly, than those gifted

bards, who formerly sang the profane renown of baron and prince, but

after the spirit of his own age and country; and he was now prepared to

exercise the cunning of his craft, in celebration of, or rather in

thanksgiving for, the recent victory. He waited patiently for Hawkeye to

cease, then lifting his eyes, together with his voice, he said, aloud,--

"I invite you, friends, to join in praise for this signal deliverance

from the hands of barbarians and infidels, to the comfortable and solemn

tones of the tune, called 'Northampton.'"

He next named the page and verse where the rhymes selected were to be

found, and applied the pitch-pipe to his lips, with the decent gravity

that he had been wont to use in the temple. This time he was, however,

without any accompaniment, for the sisters were just then pouring out

those tender effusions of affection which have been already alluded to.

Nothing deterred by the smallness of his audience, which, in truth,

consisted only of the discontented scout, he raised his voice,

commencing and ending the sacred song without accident or interruption

of any kind.

Hawkeye listened, while he coolly adjusted his flint and reloaded his

rifle; but the sounds, wanting the extraneous assistance of scene and

sympathy, failed to awaken his slumbering emotions. Never minstrel, or

by whatever more suitable name David should be known, drew upon his

talents in the presence of more insensible auditors; though considering

the singleness and sincerity of his motive, it is probable that no bard

of profane song ever uttered notes that ascended so near to that throne

where all homage and praise is due. The scout shook his head, and

muttering some unintelligible words, among which "throat" and

"Iroquois," were alone audible, he walked away, to collect, and to

examine into, the state of the captured arsenal of the Hurons. In this

office he was now joined by Chingachgook, who found his own, as well as

the rifle of his son, among the arms. Even Heyward and David were

furnished with weapons; nor was ammunition wanting to render them all

effectual.

When the foresters had made their selection, and distributed their

prizes, the scout announced that the hour had arrived when it was

necessary to move. By this time the song of Gamut had ceased, and the

sisters had learned to still the exhibition of their emotions. Aided by

Duncan and the younger Mohican, the two latter descended the precipitous

sides of that hill which they had so lately ascended under so very

different auspices, and whose summit had so nearly proved the scene of

their massacre. At the foot, they found the Narragansetts browsing the

herbage of the bushes; and having mounted, they followed the movements

of a guide, who, in the most deadly straits, had so often proved himself

their friend. The journey was, however, short. Hawkeye, leaving the

blind path that the Hurons had followed, turned short to his right, and

entering the thicket, he crossed a babbling brook, and halted in a

narrow dell, under the shade of a few water elms. Their distance from

the base of the fatal hill was but a few rods, and the steeds had been

serviceable only in crossing the shallow stream.

The scout and the Indians appeared to be familiar with the sequestered

place where they now were; for, leaning their rifles against the trees,

they commenced throwing aside the dried leaves, and opening the blue

clay, out of which a clear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing

water, quickly bubbled. The white man then looked about him, as though

seeking for some object, which was not to be found as readily as he

expected:--

"Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tuscarora and Onondaga

brethren, have been here slaking their thirst," he muttered, "and the

vagabonds have thrown away the gourd! This is the way with benefits,

when they are bestowed on such disremembering hounds! Here has the Lord

laid his hand, in the midst of the howling wilderness, for their good,

and raised a fountain of water from the bowels of the 'arth, that might

laugh at the richest shop of apothecary's ware in all the colonies; and

see! the knaves have trodden in the clay, and deformed the cleanliness

of the place, as though they were brute beasts, instead of human men."

Uncas silently extended towards him the desired gourd, which the spleen

of Hawkeye had hitherto prevented him from observing, on a branch of an

elm. Filling it with water, he retired a short distance, to a place

where the ground was more firm and dry; here he coolly seated himself,

and after taking a long, and, apparently, a grateful draught, he

commenced a very strict examination of the fragments of food left by the

Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on his arm.

"Thank you, lad!" he continued, returning the empty gourd to Uncas; "now

we will see how these rampaging Hurons lived, when outlying in

ambushments. Look at this! The varlets know the better pieces of the

deer; and one would think they might carve and roast a saddle, equal to

the best cook in the land! But everything is raw, for the Iroquois are

thorough savages. Uncas, take my steel, and kindle a fire; a mouthful of

a tender broil will give natur' a helping hand, after so long a trail."

Heyward, perceiving that their guides now set about their repast in

sober earnest, assisted the ladies to alight, and placed himself at

their side, not unwilling to enjoy a few moments of grateful rest, after

the bloody scene he had just gone through. While the culinary process

was in hand, curiosity induced him to inquire into the circumstances

which had led to their timely and unexpected rescue:--

"How is it that we see you so soon, my generous friend," he asked, "and

without aid from the garrison of Edward?"

"Had we gone to the bend in the river, we might have been in time to

rake the leaves over your bodies, but too late to have saved your

scalps," coolly answered the scout. "No, no; instead of throwing away

strength and opportunity by crossing to the fort, we lay by, under the

bank of the Hudson, waiting to watch the movements of the Hurons."

"You were, then, witnesses of all that passed?"

"Not of all; for Indian sight is too keen to be easily cheated, and we

kept close. A difficult matter it was, too, to keep this Mohican boy

snug in the ambushment. Ah! Uncas, Uncas, your behavior was more like

that of a curious woman than of a warrior on his scent."

Uncas permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on the sturdy

countenance of the speaker, but he neither spoke nor gave any indication

of repentance. On the contrary, Heyward thought the manner of the young

Mohican was disdainful, if not a little fierce, and that he suppressed

passions that were ready to explode, as much in compliment to the

listeners, as from the deference he usually paid to his white associate.

"You saw our capture?" Heyward next demanded.

"We heard it," was the significant answer. "An Indian yell is plain

language to men who have passed their days in the woods. But when you

landed, we were driven to crawl, like sarpents, beneath the leaves; and

then we lost sight of you entirely, until we placed eyes on you again,

trussed to the trees, and ready bound for an Indian massacre."

"Our rescue was the deed of Providence. It was nearly a miracle that you

did not mistake the path, for the Hurons divided, and each band had its

horses."

"Ay! there we were thrown off the scent, and might, indeed, have lost

the trail, had it not been for Uncas; we took the path, however, that

led into the wilderness; for we judged, and judged rightly, that the

savages would hold that course with their prisoners. But when we had

followed it for many miles, without finding a single twig broken, as I

had advised, my mind misgave me; especially as all the footsteps had the

prints of moccasins."

"Our captors had the precaution to see us shod like themselves," said

Duncan, raising a foot, and exhibiting the buckskin he wore.

"Ay, 'twas judgmatical, and like themselves; though we were too expart

to be thrown from a trail by so common an invention."

"To what, then, are we indebted for our safety?"

"To what, as a white man who has no taint of Indian blood, I should be

ashamed to own; to the judgment of the young Mohican, in matters which I

should know better than he, but which I can now hardly believe to be

true, though my own eyes tell me it is so."

"'Tis extraordinary! will you not name the reason?"

"Uncas was bold enough to say, that the beasts ridden by the gentle

ones," continued Hawkeye, glancing his eyes, not without curious

interest, on the fillies of the ladies, "planted the legs of one side on

the ground at the same time, which is contrary to the movements of all

trotting four-footed animals of my knowledge, except the bear. And yet

here are horses that always journey in this manner, as my own eyes have

seen, and as their trail has shown for twenty long miles."

"'Tis the merit of the animal! They come from the shores of

Narragansett Bay, in the small province of Providence Plantations, and

are celebrated for their hardihood, and the ease of this peculiar

movement; though other horses are not unfrequently trained to the same."

"It may be--it may be," said Hawkeye, who had listened with singular

attention to this explanation; "though I am a man who has the full blood

of the whites, my judgment in deer and beaver is greater than in beasts

of burden. Major Effingham has many noble chargers, but I have never

seen one travel after such a sideling gait."

"True; for he would value the animals for very different properties.

Still is this a breed highly esteemed, and as you witness, much honored

with the burdens it is often destined to bear."

The Mohicans had suspended their operations about the glimmering fire,

to listen; and when Duncan had done, they looked at each other

significantly, the father uttering the never-failing exclamation of

surprise. The scout ruminated, like a man digesting his newly acquired

knowledge, and once more stole a curious glance at the horses.

"I dare to say there are even stranger sights to be seen in the

settlements!" he said, at length; "natur' is sadly abused by man, when

he once gets the mastery. But, go sideling or go straight, Uncas had

seen the movement, and their trail led us on to the broken bush. The

outer branch, near the prints of one of the horses, was bent upward, as

a lady breaks a flower from its stem, but all the rest were ragged and

broken down, as if the strong hand of a man had been tearing them! So I

concluded that the cunning varmints had seen the twig bent, and had torn

the rest, to make us believe a buck had been feeling the boughs with his

antlers."

"I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you; for some such thing

occurred!"

"That was easy to see," added the scout, in no degree conscious of

having exhibited any extraordinary sagacity; "and a very different

matter it was from a waddling horse! It then struck me the Mingos would

push for this spring, for the knaves well know the vartue of its

waters!"

"Is it, then, so famous?" demanded Heyward, examining, with a more

curious eye, the secluded dell, with its bubbling fountain, surrounded,

as it was, by earth of a deep dingy brown.

"Few redskins, who travel south and east of the great lakes, but have

heard of its qualities. Will you taste for yourself?"

Heyward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little of the water,

threw it aside with grimaces of discontent. The scout laughed in his

silent, but heartfelt manner, and shook his head with vast satisfaction.

"Ah! you want the flavor that one gets by habit; the time was when I

liked it as little as yourself; but I have come to my taste, and I now

crave it, as a deer does the licks.[17] Your high spiced wines are not

better liked than a redskin relishes this water; especially when his

natur' is ailing. But Uncas has made his fire, and it is time we think

of eating, for our journey is long, and all before us."

Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, the scout had

instant recourse to the fragments of food which had escaped the voracity

of the Hurons. A very summary process completed the simple cookery, when

he and the Mohicans commenced their humble meal, with the silence and

characteristic diligence of men who ate in order to enable themselves

to endure great and unremitting toil.

When this necessary, and, happily, grateful duty had been performed,

each of the foresters stooped and took a long and parting draught at

that solitary and silent spring,[18] around which and its sister

fountains, within fifty years, the wealth, beauty, and talents of a

hemisphere were to assemble in throngs, in pursuit of health and

pleasure. Then Hawkeye announced his determination to proceed. The

sisters resumed their saddles; Duncan and David grasped their rifles,

and followed on their footsteps; the scout leading the advance, and the

Mohicans bringing up the rear. The whole party moved swiftly through the

narrow path, towards the north, leaving the healing waters to mingle

unheeded with the adjacent brook, and the bodies of the dead to fester

on the neighboring mount, without the rites of sepulture; a fate but too

common to the warriors of the woods to excite either commiseration or

comment.

The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757 · 第 12 / 33 章