CHAPTER XXX

"If you deny me, fie upon your law!

There is no force in the decrees of Venice:

I stand for judgment; answer, shall I have it?"

_Merchant of Venice._

The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many anxious minutes.

Then the waving multitude opened and shut again, and Uncas stood in the

living circle. All those eyes, which had been curiously studying the

lineaments of the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turned

on the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the erect,

agile, and faultless person of the captive. But neither the presence in

which he found himself, nor the exclusive attention that he attracted,

in any manner disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican. He

cast a deliberate and observing look on every side of him, meeting the

settled expression of hostility that lowered in the visages of the

chiefs, with the same calmness as the curious gaze of the attentive

children. But when, last in his haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund

came under his glance, his eye became fixed, as though all other objects

were already forgotten. Then advancing with a slow and noiseless step up

the area, he placed himself immediately before the footstool of the

sage. Here he stood unnoted, though keenly observant himself, until one

of the chiefs apprised the latter of his presence.

"With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?" demanded the

patriarch, without unclosing his eyes.

"Like his fathers," Uncas replied; "with the tongue of a Delaware."

At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, fierce yell ran

through the multitude, that might not inaptly be compared to the growl

of the lion, as his choler is first awakened--a fearful omen of the

weight of his future anger. The effect was equally strong on the sage,

though differently exhibited. He passed a hand before his eyes, as if to

exclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle, while he

repeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he had just heard.

"A Delaware! I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape driven from

their council-fires, and scattered, like broken herds of deer, among the

hills of the Iroquois! I have seen the hatchets of a strange people

sweep woods from the valleys, that the winds of heaven had spared! The

beasts that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above the

trees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never before have I

found a Delaware so base as to creep, like a poisonous serpent, into the

camps of his nation."

"The singing-birds have opened their bills," returned Uncas, in the

softest notes of his own musical voice; "and Tamenund has heard their

song."

The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch the fleeting

sounds of some passing melody.

"Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed. "What voice is at his ear! Have the

winters gone backward! Will summer come again to the children of the

Lenape!"

A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this incoherent burst from the

lips of the Delaware prophet. His people steadily construed his

unintelligible language into one of those mysterious conferences he was

believed to hold so frequently with a superior intelligence, and they

awaited the issue of the revelation in awe. After a patient pause,

however, one of the aged men, perceiving that the sage had lost the

recollection of the subject before them, ventured to remind him again of

the presence of the prisoner.

"The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words of Tamenund,"

he said. "'Tis a hound that howls, when the Yengeese show him a trail."

"And ye," returned Uncas, looking sternly around him, "are dogs that

whine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of his deer!"

Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many warriors sprang to their

feet, at this biting, and perhaps merited retort; but a motion from one

of the chiefs suppressed the outbreaking of their tempers, and restored

the appearance of quiet. The task might probably have been more

difficult, had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he was

again about to speak.

"Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy name. My

people have not seen a bright sun in many winters; and the warrior who

deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is doubly a traitor. The law of

the Manitou is just. It is so; while the rivers run and the mountains

stand, while the blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so. He is

thine, my children; deal justly by him."

Not a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder and longer than

common, until the closing syllable of this final decree had passed the

lips of Tamenund. Then a cry of vengeance burst at once, as it might be,

from the united lips of the nation; a frightful augury of their ruthless

intentions. In the midst of these prolonged and savage yells, a chief

proclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive was condemned to endure

the dreadful trial of torture by fire. The circle broke its order, and

screams of delight mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation.

Heyward struggled madly with his captors; the anxious eyes of Hawkeye

began to look around him, with an expression of peculiar earnestness;

and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the patriarch, once more a

suppliant for mercy.

Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas had alone preserved

his serenity. He looked on the preparations with a steady eye, and when

the tormentors came to seize him, he met them with a firm and upright

attitude. One among them, if possible, more fierce and savage than his

fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the young warrior, and at a single

effort tore it from his body. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, he

leaped towards his unresisting victim, and prepared to lead him to the

stake. But, at that moment, when he appeared most a stranger to the

feelings of humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenly

as if a supernatural agency had interposed in the behalf of Uncas. The

eyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from their sockets; his mouth

opened, and his whole form became frozen in an attitude of amazement.

Raising his hand with a slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a

finger to the bosom of the captive. His companions crowded about him in

wonder, and every eye was, like his own, fastened intently on the figure

of a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the breast of the prisoner,

in a bright blue tint.

For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling calmly on the

scene. Then motioning the crowd away with a high and haughty sweep of

his arm, he advanced in front of the nation with the air of a king, and

spoke in a voice louder than the murmur of admiration that ran through

the multitude.

"Men of the Lenni Lenape!" he said, "my race upholds the earth! Your

feeble tribe stands on my shell![27] What fire that a Delaware can light

would burn the child of my fathers," he added, pointing proudly to the

simple blazonry on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stock

would smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of nations!"

"Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling tones he

heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the language of the

prisoner.

"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive modestly, turning

from the nation, and bending his head in reverence to the other's

character and years; "a son of the great Unamis."

"The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day is come, at

last, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that one is here to fill my

place at the council-fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas, is found! Let the

eyes of a dying eagle gaze on the rising sun."

The youth stepped lightly, but proudly, on the platform, where he became

visible to the whole agitated and wondering multitude. Tamenund held him

long at the length of his arm, and read every turn in the fine

lineaments of his countenance, with the untiring gaze of one who

recalled days of happiness.

"Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered prophet exclaimed. "Have I

dreamt of so many snows--that my people were scattered like floating

sands--of Yengeese, more plenty than the leaves on the trees! The arrow

of Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm is withered like the

branch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in the race; yet is

Uncas before him as they went to battle against the pale-faces! Uncas,

the panther of his tribe, the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisest

Sagamore of the Mohicans! Tell me, ye Delawares, has Tamenund been a

sleeper for a hundred winters?"

The calm and deep silence which succeeded these words, sufficiently

announced the awful reverence with which his people received the

communication of the patriarch. None dared to answer, though all

listened in breathless expectation of what might follow. Uncas, however,

looking in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored child,

presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to reply.

"Four warriors of his race have lived, and died," he said, "since the

friend of Tamenund led his people in battle. The blood of the turtle has

been in many chiefs, but all have gone back into the earth from whence

they came except Chingachgook and his son."

"It is true--it is true," returned the sage; a flash of recollection

destroying all his pleasing fancies, and restoring him at once to a

consciousness of the true history of his nation. "Our wise men have

often said that two warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills of

the Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the Delawares

been so long empty?"

At these words the young man raised his head, which he had still kept

bowed a little, in reverence; and lifting his voice so as to be heard by

the multitude, as if to explain at once and forever the policy of his

family, he said aloud,--

"Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in its anger.

Then we were rulers and sagamores over the land. But when a pale-face

was seen on every brook, we followed the deer back to the river of our

nation. The Delawares were gone. Few warriors of them all stayed to

drink of the stream they loved. Then said my fathers, 'Here will we

hunt. The waters of the river go into the salt lake. If we go towards

the setting sun, we shall find streams that run into the great lakes of

sweet water; there would a Mohican die, like fishes of the sea, in the

clear springs. When the Manitou is ready, and shall say "Come," we will

follow the river to the sea, and take our own again.' Such, Delawares,

is the belief of the children of the Turtle. Our eyes are on the rising,

and not towards the setting sun. We know whence he comes, but we know

not whither he goes. It is enough."

The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all the respect that

superstition could lend, finding a secret charm even in the figurative

language with which the young Sagamore imparted his ideas. Uncas himself

watched the effect of his brief explanation with intelligent eyes, and

gradually dropped the air of authority he had assumed, as he perceived

that his auditors were content. Then permitting his looks to wander over

the silent throng that crowded around the elevated seat of Tamenund, he

first perceived Hawkeye in his bonds. Stepping eagerly from his stand,

he made way for himself to the side of his friend; and cutting his

thongs with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife, he motioned to

the crowd to divide. The Indians silently obeyed, and once more they

stood ranged in their circle, as before his appearance among them. Uncas

took the scout by the hand, and led him to the feet of the patriarch.

"Father," he said, "look at this pale-face; a just man, and the friend

of the Delawares."

"Is he a son of Minquon?"

"Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the Maquas."

"What name has he gained by his deeds?"

"We call him Hawkeye," Uncas replied, using the Delaware phrase; "for

his sight never fails. The Mingos know him better by the death he gives

their warriors; with them he is 'The Long Rifle.'"

"La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes, and

regarding the scout sternly. "My son has not done well to call him

friend."

"I call him so who proves himself such," returned the young chief, with

great calmness, but with a steady mien. "If Uncas is welcome among the

Delawares, then is Hawkeye with his friends."

"The pale-face has slain my young men; his name is great for the blows

he has struck the Lenape."

"If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the Delaware, he has

only shown that he is a singing-bird," said the scout, who now believed

that it was time to vindicate himself from such offensive charges, and

who spoke in the tongue of the man he addressed, modifying his Indian

figures, however, with his own peculiar notions. "That I have slain the

Maquas I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-fires; but

that, knowingly, my hand has ever harmed a Delaware, is opposed to the

reason of my gifts, which is friendly to them, and all that belongs to

their nation."

A low exclamation of applause passed among the warriors, who exchanged

looks with each other like men that first began to perceive their error.

"Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund. "Has he stopped my ears?"

Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which Uncas had triumphed may

be much better imagined than described, answered to the call by stepping

boldly in front of the patriarch.

"The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron has lent."

"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding the dark

countenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the more ingenuous

features of Uncas, "has the stranger a conqueror's right over you?"

"He has none. The panther may get into snares set by the women; but he

is strong, and knows how to leap through them."

"La Longue Carabine?"

"Laughs at the Mingoes. Go, Huron, ask your squaws the color of a bear."

"The stranger and the white maiden that came into my camp together?"

"Should journey on an open path."

"And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"

Uncas made no reply.

"And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp," repeated

Tamenund, gravely.

"She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at Uncas.

"Mohican, you know that she is mine."

"My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the expression of

the face that the youth turned from him in sorrow.

"It is so," was the low answer.

A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was very

apparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted the justice of the

Mingo's claim. At length the sage, in whom alone the decision depended,

said, in a firm voice,--

"Huron, depart."

"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily Magua; "or with hands

filled with the faith of the Delawares? The wigwam of Le Renard Subtil

is empty. Make him strong with his own."

The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then bending his head

towards one of his venerable companions, he asked,--

"Are my ears open?"

"It is true."

"Is this Mingo a chief?"

"The first in his nation."

"Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to wife. Go! thy

race will not end."

"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the horror-struck

Cora, "than meet with such a degradation!"

"Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An unwilling maiden

makes an unhappy wigwam."

"She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua, regarding

his victim with a look of bitter irony. "She is of a race of traders,

and will bargain for a bright look. Let Tamenund speak the words."

"Take you the wampum, and our love."

"Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."

"Then depart with thine own. The great Manitou forbids that a Delaware

should be unjust."

Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm; the

Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if conscious that

remonstrance would be useless, prepared to submit to her fate without

resistance.

"Hold, hold!" cried Duncan, springing forward; "Huron, have mercy! her

ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy people were ever yet known

to be."

"Magua is a redskin; he wants not the beads of the pale-faces."

"Gold, silver, powder, lead--all that a warrior needs shall be in thy

wigwam; all that becomes the greatest chief."

"Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking the hand

which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has his revenge!"

"Mighty ruler of providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping his hands

together in agony, "can this be suffered! To you, just Tamenund, I

appeal for mercy."

"The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage, closing his

eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike wearied with his mental and

his bodily exertion. "Men speak not twice."

"That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what had once

been spoken, is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye, motioning to Duncan

to be silent; "but it is also prudent in every warrior to consider well

before he strikes his tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, I

love you not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much favor

at my hands. It is fair to conclude that, if this war does not soon end,

many more of your warriors will meet me in the woods. Put it to your

judgment, then, whether you would prefer taking such a prisoner as that

into your encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would

greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."

"Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?" demanded Magua,

hesitatingly; for he had already made a motion towards quitting the

place with his victim.

"No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye, drawing

back with suitable discretion, when he noted the eagerness with which

Magua listened to his proposal. "It would be an unequal exchange, to

give a warrior, in the prime of his age and usefulness, for the best

woman on the frontiers. I might consent to go into winter-quarters,

now--at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn--on condition you

will release the maiden."

Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the crowd to open.

"Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man who had not

half made up his mind, "I will throw 'Killdeer' into the bargain. Take

the word of an experienced hunter, the piece has not its equal atween

the provinces."

Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to disperse the

crowd.

"Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness, exactly in

proportion as the other manifested an indifference to the exchange, "if

I should condition to teach your young men the real virtue of the

we'pon, it would smooth the little differences in our judgments."

Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered in an

impenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen to the amicable

proposal, to open his path, threatening, by the glance of his eye,

another appeal to the infallible justice of their "prophet."

"What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued Hawkeye,

turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas. "The varlet knows his

advantage, and will keep it! God bless you, boy; you have found friends

among your natural kin and I hope they will prove as true as some you

have met who had no Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I must

die; it is therefore fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl.

After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to master my scalp,

so a day or two will make no great difference in the everlasting

reckoning of time. God bless you," added the rugged woodsman, bending

his head aside, and then instantly changing its direction again, with a

wistful look towards the youth; "I loved both you and your father,

Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a color, and our gifts are

somewhat different. Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him in my

greatest trouble; and, as for you, think of me sometimes when on a lucky

trail; and depend on it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, there

is a path in the other world by which honest men may come together

again. You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take it, and keep

it for my sake; and harkee, lad, as your natural gifts don't deny you

the use of vengeance, use it a little freely on the Mingos; it may

unburden grief at my loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept your

offer; release the woman. I am your prisoner!"

A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation, ran through the

crowd at this generous proposition; even the fiercest among the Delaware

warriors manifesting pleasure at the manliness of the intended

sacrifice. Magua paused, and for an anxious moment, it might be said, he

doubted; then casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which

ferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose became fixed

forever.

He intimated his contempt of the offer with a backward motion of his

head, and said, in a steady and settled voice,--

"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind. Come," he

added, laying his hand too familiarly on the shoulder of his captive to

urge her onward; "a Huron is no tattler; we will go."

The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and her dark eye kindled,

while the rich blood shot, like the passing brightness of the sun, into

her very temples, at the indignity.

"I am your prisoner, and at a fitting time shall be ready to follow,

even to my death. But violence is unnecessary," she coldly said; and

immediately turning to Hawkeye, added, "Generous hunter! from my soul I

thank you. Your offer is in vain, neither could it be accepted; but

still you may serve me, even more than in your own noble intention. Look

at that drooping, humbled child! Abandon her not until you leave her in

the habitation of civilized men. I will not say," wringing the hard hand

of the scout, "that her father will reward you--for such as you are

above the rewards of men--but he will thank you, and bless you. And,

believe me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the sight

of Heaven. Would to God, I could hear one from his lips at this awful

moment!" Her voice became choked, and, for an instant, she was silent;

then advancing a step nigher to Duncan, who was supporting her

unconscious sister, she continued, in more subdued tones, but in which

feeling and the habits of her sex maintained a fearful struggle,--"I

need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess. You love

her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults, though she had them.

She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as mortal may be. There is not a

blemish in mind or person at which the proudest of you all would sicken.

She is fair--O! how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, but

less brilliant hand, in melancholy affection on the alabaster forehead

of Alice, and parting the golden hair which clustered about her brows;

"and yet her soul is pure and spotless as her skin! I could say

much--more, perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare

you and myself"--Her voice became inaudible, and her face was bent over

the form of her sister. After a long and burning kiss, she arose, and

with features of the hue of death, but without even a tear in her

feverish eye, she turned away, and added, to the savage, with all her

former elevation of manner,--"Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I will

follow."

"Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an Indian girl;

"go, Magua, go. These Delawares have their laws, which forbid them to

detain you; but I--I have no such obligation. Go, malignant monster--why

do you delay?"

It would be difficult to describe the expression with which Magua

listened to this threat to follow. There was at first a fierce and

manifest display of joy, and then it was instantly subdued in a look of

cunning coldness.

"The woods are open," he was content with answering. "'The Open Hand'

can come."

"Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, and detaining him by

violence; "you know not the craft of the imp. He would lead you to an

ambushment, and your death--"

"Huron," interrupted Uncas, who, submissive to the stern customs of his

people, had been an attentive and grave listener to all that passed;

"Huron, the justice of the Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at the

sun. He is now in the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is short

and open. When he is seen above the trees, there will be men on your

trail."

"I hear a crow!" exclaimed Magua, with a taunting laugh. "Go!" he added,

shaking his hand at the crowd, which had slowly opened to admit his

passage,--"Where are the petticoats of the Delawares! Let them send

their arrows and their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison to

eat, and corn to hoe. Dogs, rabbits, thieves--I spit on you!"

His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding silence, and, with

these biting words in his mouth, the triumphant Magua passed unmolested

into the forest, followed by his passive captive, and protected by the

inviolable laws of Indian hospitality.

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