_"Bot._--Are we all met?"
_"Qui._--Pat--pat; and here's a marvellous
Convenient place for our rehearsal."
_Midsummer Night's Dream._
The reader may better imagine, than we describe, the surprise of
Heyward. His lurking Indians were suddenly converted into four-footed
beasts; his lake into a beaver pond; his cataract into a dam,
constructed by those industrious and ingenious quadrupeds; and a
suspected enemy into his tried friend, David Gamut, the master of
psalmody. The presence of the latter created so many unexpected hopes
relative to the sisters that, without a moment's hesitation, the young
man broke out of his ambush, and sprang forward to join the two
principal actors in the scene.
The merriment of Hawkeye was not easily appeased. Without ceremony, and
with a rough hand, he twirled the supple Gamut around on his heel, and
more than once affirmed that the Hurons had done themselves great credit
in the fashion of his costume. Then seizing the hand of the other, he
squeezed it with a gripe that brought the tears into the eyes of the
placid David, and wished him joy of his new condition.
"You were about opening your throat-practysings among the beavers, were
ye?" he said. "The cunning devils know half the trade already, for they
beat the time with their tails, as you heard just now; and in good time
it was too, or 'Killdeer' might have sounded the first note among them.
I have known greater fools, who could read and write, than an
experienced old beaver; but as for squalling, the animals are born dumb!
What think you of such a song as this?"
David shut his sensitive ears, and even Heyward, apprised as he was of
the nature of the cry, looked upwards in quest of the bird, as the
cawing of a crow rang in the air about them.
"See!" continued the laughing scout, as he pointed towards the remainder
of the party, who, in obedience to the signal, were already
approaching: "this is music which has its natural virtues; it brings two
good rifles to my elbow, to say nothing of the knives and tomahawks. But
we see that you are safe; now tell us what has become of the maidens."
"They are captives to the heathen," said David; "and though greatly
troubled in spirit, enjoying comfort and safety in the body."
"Both?" demanded the breathless Heyward.
"Even so. Though our wayfaring has been sore and our sustenance scanty,
we have had little other cause for complaint, except the violence done
our feelings, by being thus led in captivity into a far land."
"Bless ye for these very words!" exclaimed the trembling Munro; "I shall
then receive my babes spotless and angel-like, as I lost them!"
"I know not that their delivery is at hand," returned the doubting
David; "the leader of these savages is possessed of an evil spirit that
no power short of Omnipotence can tame. I have tried him sleeping and
waking, but neither sounds nor language seem to touch his soul."
"Where is the knave?" bluntly interrupted the scout.
"He hunts the moose to-day, with his young men; and to-morrow, as I
hear, they pass farther into these forests, and nigher to the borders of
Canada. The elder maiden is conveyed to a neighboring people, whose
lodges are situate beyond yonder black pinnacle of rock; while the
younger is detained among the women of the Hurons, whose dwellings are
but two short miles hence, on a table-land, where the fire has done the
office of the axe, and prepared the place for their reception."
"Alice, my gentle Alice!" murmured Heyward; "she has lost the
consolation of her sister's presence!"
"Even so. But so far as praise and thanksgiving in psalmody can temper
the spirit in affliction, she has not suffered."
"Has she then a heart for music?"
"Of the graver and more solemn character; though it must be acknowledged
that, in spite of all my endeavors, the maiden weeps oftener than she
smiles. At such moments I forbear to press the holy songs; but there are
many sweet and comfortable periods of satisfactory communication, when
the ears of the savages are astounded with the upliftings of our
voices."
"And why are you permitted to go at large, unwatched?"
David composed his features into what he intended should express an air
of modest humility, before he meekly replied--
"Little be the praise to such a worm as I. But, though the power of
psalmody was suspended in the terrible business of that field of blood
through which we passed, it has recovered its influence even over the
souls of the heathen, and I am suffered to go and come at will."
The scout laughed, and tapping his own forehead significantly, he
perhaps explained the singular indulgence more satisfactorily when he
said--
"The Indians never harm a non-composser. But why, when the path lay open
before your eyes, did you not strike back on your own trail (it is not
so blind as that which a squirrel would make), and bring in the tidings
to Edward?"
The scout, remembering only his own sturdy and iron nature, had probably
exacted a task that David, under no circumstances, could have performed.
But, without entirely losing the meekness of his air, the latter was
content to answer--
"Though my soul would rejoice to visit the habitations of Christendom
once more, my feet would rather follow the tender spirits intrusted to
my keeping, even into the idolatrous province of the Jesuits, than take
one step backward, while they pined in captivity and sorrow."
Though the figurative language of David was not very intelligible, the
sincere and steady expression of his eye, and the glow on his honest
countenance, were not easily mistaken. Uncas pressed closer to his side,
and regarded the speaker with a look of commendation, while his father
expressed his satisfaction by the ordinary pithy exclamation of
approbation. The scout shook his head as he rejoined--
"The Lord never intended that the man should place all his endeavors in
his throat, to the neglect of other and better gifts! But he has fallen
into the hands of some silly woman, when he should have been gathering
his education under a blue sky, among the beauties of the forest. Here,
friend; I did intend to kindle a fire with this tooting whistle of
thine; but as you value the thing, take it, and blow your best on it!"
Gamut received his pitch-pipe with as strong an expression of pleasure
as he believed compatible with the grave functions he exercised. After
essaying its virtues repeatedly, in contrast with his own voice, and
satisfying himself that none of its melody was lost, he made a very
serious demonstration towards achieving a few stanzas of one of the
longest effusions in the little volume so often mentioned.
Heyward, however, hastily interrupted his pious purpose, by continuing
questions concerning the past and present condition of his
fellow-captives, and in a manner more methodical than had been permitted
by his feelings in the opening of their interview. David, though he
regarded his treasure with longing eyes, was constrained to answer:
especially as the venerable father took a part in the interrogatories,
with an interest too imposing to be denied. Nor did the scout fail to
throw in a pertinent inquiry, whenever a fitting occasion presented. In
this manner, though with frequent interruptions, which were filled with
certain threatening sounds from the recovered instrument, the pursuers
were put in possession of such leading circumstances as were likely to
prove useful in accomplishing their great and engrossing object--the
recovery of the sisters. The narrative of David was simple, and the
facts but few.
Magua had waited on the mountain until a safe moment to retire presented
itself, when he had descended, and taken the route along the western
side of the Horican, in the direction of the Canadas. As the subtle
Huron was familiar with the paths, and well knew there was no immediate
danger of pursuit, their progress had been moderate, and far from
fatiguing. It appeared from the unembellished statement of David, that
his own presence had been rather endured than desired; though even Magua
had not been entirely exempt from that veneration with which the Indians
regard those whom the Great Spirit has visited in their intellects. At
night, the utmost care had been taken of the captives, both to prevent
injury from the damps of the woods, and to guard against an escape. At
the spring, the horses were turned loose, as has been seen; and
notwithstanding the remoteness and length of their trail, the artifices
already named were resorted to, in order to cut off every clue to their
place of retreat. On their arrival at the encampment of his people,
Magua, in obedience to a policy seldom departed from, separated his
prisoners. Cora had been sent to a tribe that temporarily occupied an
adjacent valley, though David was too ignorant of the customs and
history of the natives to be able to declare anything satisfactory
concerning their name or character. He only knew that they had not
engaged in the late expedition against William Henry; that, like the
Hurons themselves, they were allies of Montcalm; and that they
maintained an amicable, though a watchful intercourse with the warlike
and savage people, whom chance had, for a time, brought in such close
and disagreeable contact with themselves.
The Mohicans and the scout listened to his interrupted and imperfect
narrative, with an interest that obviously increased as he proceeded;
and it was while attempting to explain the pursuits of the community in
which Cora was detained, that the latter abruptly demanded--
"Did you see the fashion of their knives? Were they of English or French
formation?"
"My thoughts were bent on no such vanities, but rather mingled in
consolation with those of the maidens."
"The time may come when you will not consider the knife of a savage such
a despisable vanity," returned the scout, with a strong expression of
contempt for the other's dulness. "Had they held their corn-feast--or
can you say anything of the totems of the tribe?"
"Of corn, we had many and plentiful feasts; for the grain, being in the
milk, is both sweet to the mouth and comfortable to the stomach. Of
totem, I know not the meaning; but if it appertaineth in any wise to the
art of Indian music, it need not be inquired after at their hands. They
never join their voices in praise, and it would seem that they are among
the profanest of the idolatrous."
"Therein you belie the nature of an Indian. Even the Mingo adores but
the true and living God. 'Tis a wicked fabrication of the whites, and I
say it to the shame of my color, that would make the warrior bow down
before images of his own creation. It is true, they endeavor to make
truces with the wicked one--as who would not with an enemy he cannot
conquer!--but they look up for favor and assistance to the Great and
Good Spirit only."
"It may be so," said David; "but I have seen strange and fantastic
images drawn in their paint, of which their admiration and care savored
of spiritual pride; especially one, and that, too, a foul and loathsome
object."
"Was it a sarpent?" quickly demanded the scout.
"Much the same. It was in the likeness of an abject and creeping
tortoise."
"Hugh!" exclaimed both the attentive Mohicans in a breath; while the
scout shook his head with an air of one who had made an important, but
by no means a pleasing discovery. Then the father spoke, in the language
of the Delawares, and with a calmness and dignity that instantly
arrested the attention even of those to whom his words were
unintelligible. His gestures were impressive, and at times energetic.
Once he lifted his arm on high; and as it descended, the action threw
aside the folds of his light mantle, a finger resting on his breast, as
if he would enforce his meaning by the attitude. Duncan's eyes followed
the movement, and he perceived that the animal just mentioned was
beautifully, though faintly, worked in a blue tint, on the swarthy
breast of the chief. All that he had ever heard of the violent
separation of the vast tribes of the Delawares rushed across his mind,
and he awaited the proper moment to speak, with a suspense that was
rendered nearly intolerable, by his interest in the stake. His wish,
however, was anticipated by the scout, who turned from his red friend,
saying--
"We have found that which may be good or evil to us, as Heaven disposes.
The Sagamore is of the high blood of the Delawares, and is the great
chief of their Tortoises! That some of this stock are among the people
of whom the singer tells us, is plain, by his words; and had he but
spent half the breath in prudent questions, that he has blown away in
making a trumpet of his throat, we might have known how many warriors
they numbered. It is, altogether, a dangerous path we move in; for a
friend whose face is turned from you often bears a bloodier mind than
the enemy who seeks your scalp."
"Explain," said Duncan.
"'Tis a long and melancholy tradition, and one I little like to think
of; for it is not to be denied, that the evil has been mainly done by
men with white skins. But it has ended in turning the tomahawk of
brother against brother, and brought the Mingo and the Delaware to
travel in the same path."
"You then suspect it is a portion of that people among whom Cora
resides?"
The scout nodded his head in assent, though he seemed anxious to waive
the further discussion of a subject that appeared painful. The impatient
Duncan now made several hasty and desperate propositions to attempt the
release of the sisters. Munro seemed to shake off his apathy, and
listened to the wild schemes of the young man with a deference that his
gray hairs and reverend years should have denied. But the scout, after
suffering the ardor of the lover to expend itself a little, found means
to convince him of the folly of precipitation, in a matter that would
require their coolest judgment and utmost fortitude.
"It would be well," he added, "to let this man go in again, as usual,
and for him to tarry in the lodges, giving notice to the gentle ones of
our approach, until we call him out, by signal, to consult. You know the
cry of a crow, friend, from the whistle of the whippoorwill?"
"'Tis a pleasing bird," returned David, "and has a soft and melancholy
note! though the time is rather quick and ill-measured."
"He speaks of the wish-ton-wish," said the scout; "well, since you like
his whistle, it shall be your signal. Remember, then, when you hear the
whippoorwill's call three times repeated, you are to come into the
bushes where the bird might be supposed----"
"Stop," interrupted Heyward; "I will accompany him."
"You!" exclaimed the astonished Hawkeye; "are you tired of seeing the
sun rise and set?"
"David is a living proof that the Hurons can be merciful."
"Ay, but David can use his throat, as no man in his senses would pervert
the gift."
"I, too, can play the madman, the fool, the hero; in short, any or
everything to rescue her I love. Name your objections no longer; I am
resolved."
Hawkeye regarded the young man a moment in speechless amazement. But
Duncan, who, in deference to the other's skill and services, had
hitherto submitted somewhat implicitly to his dictation, now assumed the
superior, with a manner that was not easily resisted. He waved his hand,
in sign of his dislike to all remonstrance, and then, in more tempered
language, he continued--
"You have the means of disguise; change me; paint me, too, if you will;
in short, alter me to anything--a fool."
"It is not for one like me to say that he who is already formed by so
powerful a hand as Providence, stands in need of a change," muttered the
discontented scout. "When you send your parties abroad in war, you find
it prudent, at least, to arrange the marks and places of encampment, in
order that they who fight on your side may know when and where to expect
a friend."
"Listen," interrupted Duncan; "you have heard from this faithful
follower of the captives, that the Indians are of two tribes, if not of
different nations. With one, whom you think to be a branch of the
Delawares, is she you call the 'dark-hair'; the other, and younger of
the ladies, is undeniably with our declared enemies, the Hurons. It
becomes my youth and rank to attempt the latter adventure. While you,
therefore, are negotiating with your friends for the release of one of
the sisters, I will effect that of the other, or die."
The awakened spirit of the young soldier gleamed in his eyes, and his
form became imposing under its influence. Hawkeye, though too much
accustomed to Indian artifices not to foresee the danger of the
experiment, knew not well how to combat this sudden resolution.
Perhaps there was something in the proposal that suited his own hardy
nature, and that secret love of desperate adventure, which had increased
with his experience, until hazard and danger had become, in some
measure, necessary to the enjoyment of his existence. Instead of
continuing to oppose the scheme of Duncan, his humor suddenly altered,
and he lent himself to its execution.
"Come," he said, with a good-humored smile; "the buck that will take to
the water must be headed, and not followed. Chingachgook has as many
different paints as the engineer officer's wife, who takes down natur'
on scraps of paper, making the mountains look like cocks of rusty hay,
and placing the blue sky in reach of your hand. The Sagamore can use
them, too. Seat yourself on the log; and my life on it, he can soon make
a natural fool of you, and that well to your liking."
Duncan complied; and the Mohican, who had been an attentive listener to
the discourse, readily undertook the office. Long practised in all the
subtle arts of his race, he drew, with great dexterity and quickness,
the fantastic shadow that the natives were accustomed to consider as the
evidence of a friendly and jocular disposition. Every line that could
possibly be interpreted into a secret inclination for war, was carefully
avoided; while, on the other hand, he studied those conceits that might
be construed into amity.
In short, he entirely sacrificed every appearance of the warrior to the
masquerade of a buffoon. Such exhibitions were not uncommon among the
Indians; and as Duncan was already sufficiently disguised in his dress,
there certainly did exist some reason for believing that, with his
knowledge of French, he might pass for a juggler from Ticonderoga,
straggling among the allied and friendly tribes.
When he was thought to be sufficiently painted, the scout gave him much
friendly advice; concerted signals, and appointed the place where they
should meet, in the event of mutual success. The parting between Munro
and his young friend was more melancholy; still, the former submitted to
the separation with an indifference that his warm and honest nature
would never have permitted in a more healthful state of mind. The scout
led Heyward aside, and acquainted him with his intention to leave the
veteran in some safe encampment, in charge of Chingachgook, while he and
Uncas pursued their inquiries among the people they had reason to
believe were Delawares. Then renewing his cautions and advice, he
concluded by saying, with a solemnity and warmth of feeling, with which
Duncan was deeply touched:
"And now God bless you! You have shown a spirit that I like; for it is
the gift of youth, more especially one of warm blood and a stout heart.
But believe the warning of a man who has reason to know all he says to
be true. You will have occasion for your best manhood, and for a sharper
wit than what is to be gathered in books, afore you outdo the cunning,
or get the better of the courage of a Mingo. God bless you! if the
Hurons master your scalp, rely on the promise of one who has two stout
warriors to back him. They shall pay for their victory, with a life for
every hair it holds. I say, young gentleman, may Providence bless your
undertaking, which is altogether for good; and remember, that to outwit
the knaves it is lawful to practise things that may not be naturally the
gift of a white skin."
Duncan shook his worthy and reluctant associate warmly by the hand, once
more recommended his aged friend to his care, and returning his good
wishes, he motioned to David to proceed. Hawkeye gazed after the
high-spirited and adventurous young man for several moments, in open
admiration; then shaking his head doubtingly, he turned, and led his own
division of the party into the concealment of the forest.
The route taken by Duncan and David lay directly across the clearing of
the beavers, and along the margin of their pond.
When the former found himself alone with one so simple, and so little
qualified to render any assistance in desperate emergencies, he first
began to be sensible of the difficulties of the task he had undertaken.
The fading light increased the gloominess of the bleak and savage
wilderness that stretched so far on every side of him; and there was
even a fearful character in the stillness of those little huts, that he
knew were so abundantly peopled. It struck him, as he gazed at the
admirable structures and the wonderful precautions of their sagacious
inmates, that even the brutes of these vast wilds were possessed of an
instinct nearly commensurate with his own reason; and he could not
reflect, without anxiety, on the unequal contest that he had so rashly
courted. Then came the glowing image of Alice; her distress; her actual
danger; and all the peril of his situation was forgotten. Cheering
David, he moved on with the light and vigorous step of youth and
enterprise.
After making nearly a semicircle around the pond, they diverged from the
water-course, and began to ascend to the level of a slight elevation in
that bottom land, over which they journeyed. Within half an hour they
gained the margin of another opening that bore all the signs of having
been also made by the beavers, and which those sagacious animals had
probably been induced, by some accident, to abandon, for the more
eligible position they now occupied. A very natural sensation caused
Duncan to hesitate a moment, unwilling to leave the cover of their bushy
path, as a man pauses to collect his energies before he essays any
hazardous experiment, in which he is secretly conscious they will all be
needed. He profited by the halt, to gather such information as might be
obtained from his short and hasty glances.
On the opposite side of the clearing, and near the point where the brook
tumbled over some rocks, from a still higher level, some fifty or sixty
lodges, rudely fabricated of logs, brush, and earth intermingled, were
to be discovered. They were arranged without any order, and seemed to be
constructed with very little attention to neatness or beauty. Indeed, so
very inferior were they in the two latter particulars to the village
Duncan had just seen, that he began to expect a second surprise, no less
astonishing than the former. This expectation was in no degree
diminished, when, by the doubtful twilight, he beheld twenty or thirty
forms rising alternately from the cover of the tall, coarse grass, in
front of the lodges, and then sinking again from the sight, as it were
to burrow in the earth. By the sudden and hasty glimpses that he caught
of these figures, they seemed more like dark glancing spectres, or some
other unearthly beings, than creatures fashioned with the ordinary and
vulgar materials of flesh and blood. A gaunt, naked form was seen, for a
single instant, tossing its arms wildly in the air, and then the spot it
had filled was vacant; the figure appearing suddenly in some other and
distant place, or being succeeded by another, possessing the same
mysterious character. David, observing that his companion lingered,
pursued the direction of his gaze, and in some measure recalled the
recollection of Heyward, by speaking.
"There is much fruitful soil uncultivated here," he said; "and I may
add, without the sinful leaven of self-commendation, that since my short
sojourn in these heathenish abodes, much good seed has been scattered by
the wayside."
"The tribes are fonder of the chase than of the arts of men of labor,"
returned the unconscious Duncan, still gazing at the objects of his
wonder.
"It is rather joy than labor to the spirit, to lift up the voice in
praise; but sadly do these boys abuse their gifts. Rarely have I found
any of their age, on whom nature has so freely bestowed the elements of
psalmody; and surely, surely, there are none who neglect them more.
Three nights have I now tarried here, and three several times have I
assembled the urchins to join in sacred song; and as often have they
responded to my efforts with whoopings and howlings that have chilled my
soul!"
"Of whom speak you?"
"Of those children of the devil, who waste the precious moments in
yonder idle antics. Ah! the wholesome restraint of discipline is but
little known among this self-abandoned people. In a country of birches,
a rod is never seen; and it ought not to appear a marvel in my eyes,
that the choicest blessings of Providence are wasted in such cries as
these."
David closed his ears against the juvenile pack, whose yell just then
rang shrilly through the forest; and Duncan, suffering his lip to curl,
as in mockery of his own superstition, said firmly:
"We will proceed."
Without removing the safeguards from his ears, the master of song
complied, and together they pursued their way towards what David was
sometimes wont to call "the tents of the Philistines."