CHAPTER XXVII

"_Ant._ I shall remember:

When Caesar says _Do this_, it is performed."

_Julius Caesar._

The impatience of the savages who lingered about the prison of Uncas, as

has been seen, had overcome their dread of the conjurer's breath. They

stole cautiously, and with beating hearts, to a crevice, through which

the faint light of the fire was glimmering. For several minutes they

mistook the form of David for that of their prisoner; but the very

accident which Hawkeye had foreseen occurred. Tired of keeping the

extremities of his long person so near together, the singer gradually

suffered the lower limbs to extend themselves, until one of his

misshapen feet actually came in contact with and shoved aside the embers

of the fire. At first the Hurons believed the Delaware had been thus

deformed by witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of being observed,

turned his head, and exposed his simple, mild countenance, in place of

the haughty lineaments of their prisoner, it would have exceeded the

credulity of even a native to have doubted any longer. They rushed

together into the lodge, and laying their hands, with but little

ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected the imposition. Then

arose the cry first heard by the fugitives. It was succeeded by the most

frantic and angry demonstrations of vengeance. David, however firm in

his determination to cover the retreat of his friends, was compelled to

believe that his own final hour had come. Deprived of his book and his

pipe, he was fain to trust to a memory that rarely failed him on such

subjects; and breaking forth in a loud and impassioned strain, he

endeavored to soothe his passage into the other world, by singing the

opening verse of a funeral anthem. The Indians were seasonably reminded

of his infirmity, and rushing into the open air, they aroused the

village in the manner described.

A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the protection of anything

defensive. The sounds of the alarm were, therefore, hardly uttered,

before two hundred men were afoot, and ready for the battle or the

chase, as either might be required. The escape was soon known; and the

whole tribe crowded, in a body, around the council-lodge, impatiently

awaiting the instruction of their chiefs. In such a sudden demand on

their wisdom, the presence of the cunning Magua could scarcely fail of

being needed. His name was mentioned, and all looked round in wonder

that he did not appear. Messengers were then despatched to his lodge,

requiring his presence.

In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most discreet of the young men

were ordered to make the circuit of the clearing, under cover of the

woods, in order to ascertain that their suspected neighbors, the

Delawares, designed no mischief. Women and children ran to and fro; and

in short, the whole encampment exhibited another scene of wild and

savage confusion. Gradually, however, these symptoms of disorder

diminished; and in a few minutes the oldest and most distinguished

chiefs were assembled in the lodge, in grave consultation.

The clamor of many voices soon announced that a party approached, who

might be expected to communicate some intelligence that would explain

the mystery of the novel surprise. The crowd without gave way, and

several warriors entered the place, bringing with them the hapless

conjurer, who had been left so long by the scout in duress.

Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal estimation among the

Hurons, some believing implicitly in his power, and others deeming him

an impostor, he was now listened to by all with the deepest attention.

When his brief story was ended, the father of the sick woman stepped

forth, and, in a few pithy expressions, related, in his turn, what he

knew. These two narratives gave a proper direction to the subsequent

inquiries, which were now made with the characteristic cunning of

savages.

Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng to the cavern,

ten of the wisest and firmest among the chiefs were selected to

prosecute the investigation. As no time was to be lost, the instant the

choice was made the individuals appointed rose in a body, and left the

place without speaking. On reaching the entrance, the younger men in

advance made way for their seniors; and the whole proceeded along the

low, dark gallery, with the firmness of warriors ready to devote

themselves to the public good, though, at the same time, secretly

doubting the nature of the power with which they were about to contend.

The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and gloomy. The woman lay

in her usual place and posture, though there were those present who

affirmed they had seen her borne to the woods, by the supposed "medicine

of the white men." Such a direct and palpable contradiction of the tale

related by the father, caused all eyes to be turned on him. Chafed by

the silent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so unaccountable a

circumstance, the chief advanced to the side of the bed, and stooping,

cast an incredulous look at the features, as if distrusting their

reality. His daughter was dead.

The unerring feeling of nature, for a moment prevailed, and the old

warrior hid his eyes in sorrow. Then recovering his self-possession, he

faced his companions, and pointing towards the corpse, he said, in the

language of his people,--

"The wife of my young man has left us! the Great Spirit is angry with

his children."

The mournful intelligence was received in solemn silence. After a short

pause, one of the elder Indians was about to speak, when a dark-looking

object was seen rolling out of an adjoining apartment, into the very

centre of the room where they stood. Ignorant of the nature of the

beings they had to deal with, the whole party drew back a little, and

gazed in admiration, until the object fronted the light, and rising on

end, exhibited the distorted, but still fierce and sullen features of

Magua. The discovery was succeeded by a general exclamation of

amazement.

As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief was understood,

several ready knives appeared, and his limbs and tongue were quickly

released. The Huron arose, and shook himself like a lion quitting his

lair. Not a word escaped him, though his hand played convulsively with

the handle of his knife, while his lowering eyes scanned the whole

party, as if they sought an object suited to the first burst of his

vengeance.

It was happy for Uncas and the scout, and even David, that they were all

beyond the reach of his arm at such a moment; for, assuredly, no

refinement in cruelty would then have deferred their deaths, in

opposition to the promptings of the fierce temper that nearly choked

him. Meeting everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the savage grated

his teeth together like rasps of iron, and swallowed his passion for

want of a victim on whom to vent it. This exhibition of anger was noted

by all present; and, from an apprehension of exasperating a temper that

was already chafed nearly to madness, several minutes were suffered to

pass before another word was uttered. When, however, suitable time had

elapsed, the oldest of the party spoke.

"My friend has found an enemy," he said. "Is he nigh, that the Hurons

may take revenge?"

"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of thunder.

Another long and expressive silence was observed, and was broken, as

before, with due precaution, by the same individual.

"The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far," he said; "but my young

men are on his trail."

"Is he gone?" demanded Magua, in tones so deep and guttural, that they

seemed to proceed from his inmost chest.

"An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware has blinded our

eyes."

"An evil spirit!" repeated the other, mockingly; "'tis the spirit that

has taken the lives of so many Hurons; the spirit that slew my young men

at 'the tumbling river'; that took their scalps at the 'healing spring';

and who has now bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil!"

"Of whom does my friend speak?"

"Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a Huron under a pale

skin--La Longue Carabine."

The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the usual effect among

his auditors. But when time was given for reflection, and the warriors

remembered that their formidable and daring enemy had even been in the

bosom of their encampment, working injury, fearful rage took the place

of wonder, and all those fierce passions with which the bosom of Magua

had just been struggling were suddenly transferred to his companions.

Some among them gnashed their teeth in anger, others vented their

feelings in yells, and some, again beat the air as frantically as if the

object of their resentment were suffering under their blows. But this

sudden outbreaking of temper as quickly subsided in the still and sullen

restraint they most affected, in their moments of inaction.

Magua who had in his turn found leisure for reflection, now changed his

manner, and assumed the air of one who knew how to think and act with a

dignity worthy of so grave a subject.

"Let us go to my people," he said; "they wait for us."

His companions consented in silence, and the whole of the savage party

left the cavern and returned to the council-lodge. When they were

seated, all eyes turned on Magua, who understood, from such an

indication, that, by common consent, they had devolved the duty of

relating what had passed on him. He arose, and told his tale without

duplicity or reservation. The whole deception practised by both Duncan

and Hawkeye was, of course, laid naked; and no room was found, even for

the most superstitious of the tribe, any longer to affix a doubt on the

character of the occurrences. It was but too apparent that they had been

insultingly, shamefully, disgracefully deceived. When he had ended, and

resumed his seat, the collected tribe--for his auditors, in substance,

included all the fighting men of the party--sat regarding each other

like men astonished equally at the audacity and the success of their

enemies. The next consideration, however, was the means and

opportunities for revenge.

Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the fugitives; and then

the chiefs applied themselves, in earnest, to the business of

consultation. Many different expedients were proposed by the elder

warriors, in succession, to all of which Magua was a silent and

respectful listener. That subtle savage had recovered his artifice and

self-command, and now proceeded towards his object with his customary

caution and skill. It was only when each one disposed to speak had

uttered his sentiments, that he prepared to advance his own opinions.

They were given with additional weight from the circumstance that some

of the runners had already returned, and reported that their enemies had

been traced so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought safety in

the neighboring camp of their suspected allies, the Delawares. With the

advantage of possessing this important intelligence, the chief warily

laid his plans before his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated

from his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without a dissenting

voice. They were, briefly, as follows, both in opinions and in motives.

It has been already stated that, in obedience to a policy rarely

departed from, the sisters were separated so soon as they reached the

Huron village. Magua had early discovered that in retaining the person

of Alice, he possessed the most effectual check on Cora. When they

parted, therefore, he kept the former within reach of his hand,

consigning the one he most valued to the keeping of their allies. The

arrangement was understood to be merely temporary, and was made as much

with a view to flatter his neighbors as in obedience to the invariable

rule of Indian policy.

While goaded incessantly by those revengeful impulses that in a savage

seldom slumber, the chief was still attentive to his more permanent

personal interests. The follies and disloyalty committed in his youth

were to be expiated by a long and painful penance, ere he could be

restored to the full enjoyment of the confidence of his ancient people;

and without confidence, there could be no authority in an Indian tribe.

In this delicate and arduous situation, the crafty native had neglected

no means of increasing his influence; and one of the happiest of his

expedients had been the success with which he had cultivated the favor

of their powerful and dangerous neighbors. The result of his experiment

had answered all the expectations of his policy; for the Hurons were in

no degree exempt from that governing principle of nature, which induces

man to value his gifts precisely in the degree that they are appreciated

by others.

But, while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to general

considerations, Magua never lost sight of his individual motives. The

latter had been frustrated by the unlooked-for events which had placed

all his prisoners beyond his control; and he now found himself reduced

to the necessity of suing for favors to those whom it had so lately been

his policy to oblige.

Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacherous schemes to

surprise the Delawares, and, by gaining possession of their camp, to

recover their prisoners by the same blow; for all agreed that their

honor, their interests, and the peace and happiness of their dead

countrymen, imperiously required them speedily to immolate some victims

to their revenge. But plans so dangerous to attempt, and of such

doubtful issue, Magua found little difficulty in defeating. He exposed

their risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and it was only after he

had removed every impediment, in the shape of opposing advice, that he

ventured to propose his own projects.

He commenced by flattering the self-love of his auditors; a

never-failing method of commanding attention. When he had enumerated the

many different occasions on which the Hurons had exhibited their courage

and prowess, in the punishment of insults, he digressed in a high

encomium on the virtue of wisdom. He painted the quality, as forming the

great point of difference between the beaver and other brutes; between

brutes and men; and, finally, between the Hurons, in particular, and

the rest of the human race. After he had sufficiently extolled the

property of discretion, he undertook to exhibit in what manner its use

was applicable to the present situation of their tribe. On the one hand,

he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the Canadas, who

had looked upon his children with a hard eye since their tomahawks had

been so red; on the other, a people as numerous as themselves, who spoke

a different language, possessed different interests, and loved them not,

and who would be glad of any pretence to bring them in disgrace with the

great white chief. Then he spoke of their necessities; of the gifts they

had a right to expect for their past services; of their distance from

their proper hunting-grounds and native villages; and of the necessity

of consulting prudence more, and inclination less, in so critical

circumstances. When he perceived that, while the old men applauded his

moderation, many of the fiercest and most distinguished of the warriors

listened to these politic plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led

them back to the subject which they most loved. He spoke openly of the

fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly pronounced would be a complete

and final triumph over their enemies. He even darkly hinted that their

success might be extended, with proper caution, in such a manner as to

include the destruction of all whom they had reason to hate. In short,

he so blended the warlike with the artful, the obvious with the obscure,

as to flatter the propensities of both parties, and to leave to each

subject of hope, while neither could say it clearly comprehended his

intentions.

The orator, or the politician, who can produce such a state of things,

is commonly popular with his contemporaries, however he may be treated

by posterity. All perceived that more was meant than was uttered, and

each one believed that the hidden meaning was precisely such as his own

faculties enabled him to understand, or his own wishes led him to

anticipate.

In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that the management

of Magua prevailed. The tribe consented to act with deliberation, and

with one voice they committed the direction of the whole affair to the

government of the chief who had suggested such wise and intelligible

expedients.

Magua had now attained one great object of all his cunning and

enterprise. The ground he had lost in the favor of his people was

completely regained, and he found himself even placed at the head of

affairs. He was, in truth, their ruler; and, so long as he could

maintain his popularity, no monarch could be more despotic, especially

while the tribe continued in a hostile country. Throwing off, therefore,

the appearance of consultation, he assumed the grave air of authority

necessary to support the dignity of his office.

Runners were despatched for intelligence in different directions; spies

were ordered to approach and feel the encampment of the Delawares; the

warriors were dismissed to their lodges, with an intimation that their

services would soon be needed; and the women and children were ordered

to retire, with a warning that it was their province to be silent. When

these several arrangements were made, Magua passed through the village,

stopping here and there to pay a visit where he thought his presence

might be flattering to the individual. He confirmed his friends in their

confidence, fixed the wavering, and gratified all. Then he sought his

own lodge. The wife the Huron chief had abandoned, when he was chased

from among his people, was dead. Children he had none; and he now

occupied a hut, without companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the

dilapidated and solitary structure in which David had been discovered,

and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on those few occasions when

they met, with the contemptuous indifference of a haughty superiority.

Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy were ended. While

others slept, however, he neither knew nor sought repose. Had there been

one sufficiently curious to have watched the movements of the newly

elected chief, he would have seen him seated in a corner of his lodge,

musing on the subject of his future plans, from the hour of his

retirement to the time he had appointed for the warriors to assemble

again. Occasionally the air breathed through the crevices of the hut,

and the low flames that fluttered about the embers of the fire threw

their wavering light on the person of the sullen recluse. At such

moments it would not have been difficult to have fancied the dusky

savage the Prince of Darkness, brooding on his own fancied wrongs, and

plotting evil.

Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after warrior entered the

solitary hut of Magua, until they had collected to the number of twenty.

Each bore his rifle, and all the other accoutrements of war, though the

paint was uniformly peaceful. The entrance of these fierce-looking

beings was unnoticed; some seating themselves in the shadows of the

place, and others standing like motionless statues, until the whole of

the designated band was collected.

Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, marching himself in

advance. They followed their leader singly, and in that well-known order

which has obtained the distinguishing appellation of "Indian file."

Unlike other men engaged in the spirit-stirring business of war, they

stole from their camp unostentatiously and unobserved, resembling a band

of gliding spectres, more than warriors seeking the bubble reputation by

deeds of desperate daring.

Instead of taking the path which led directly towards the camp of the

Delawares, Magua led his party for some distance down the windings of

the stream, and along the little artificial lake of the beavers. The day

began to dawn as they entered the clearing which had been formed by

those sagacious and industrious animals. Though Magua, who had resumed

his ancient garb, bore the outline of a fox on the dressed skin which

formed his robe, there was one chief of his party who carried the beaver

as his peculiar symbol, or "totem." There would have been a species of

profanity in the omission, had this man passed so powerful a community

of his fancied kindred, without bestowing some evidence of his regard.

Accordingly, he paused, and spoke in words as kind and friendly as if he

were addressing more intelligent beings. He called the animals his

cousins, and reminded them that his protecting influence was the reason

they remained unharmed, while so many avaricious traders were prompting

the Indians to take their lives. He promised a continuance of his

favors, and admonished them to be grateful. After which, he spoke of the

expedition in which he was himself engaged, and intimated, though with

sufficient delicacy and circumlocution, the expediency of bestowing on

their relative a portion of that wisdom for which they were so

renowned.[24]

During the utterance of this extraordinary address, the companions of

the speaker were as grave and as attentive to his language as though

they were all equally impressed with its propriety. Once or twice black

objects were seen rising to the surface of the water, and the Huron

expressed pleasure, conceiving that his words were not bestowed in

vain. Just as he had ended his address, the head of a large beaver was

thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen walls had been much

injured, and which the party had believed, from its situation, to be

uninhabited. Such an extraordinary sign of confidence was received by

the orator as a highly favorable omen; and though the animal retreated a

little precipitately, he was lavish of his thanks and commendations.

When Magua thought sufficient time had been lost in gratifying the

family affection of the warrior, he again made the signal to proceed. As

the Indians moved away in a body, and with a step that would have been

inaudible to the ears of any common man, the same venerable-looking

beaver once more ventured his head from its cover. Had any of the Hurons

turned to look behind them, they would have seen the animal watching

their movements with an interest and sagacity that might easily have

been mistaken for reason. Indeed, so very distinct and intelligible were

the devices of the quadruped, that even the most experienced observer

would have been at a loss to account for its actions, until the moment

when the party entered the forest, when the whole would have been

explained, by seeing the entire animal issue from the lodge, uncasing,

by the act, the grave features of Chingachgook from his mask of fur.

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