Chapter 9

"Be gay securely; Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous

clouds, That hang on thy clear brow."--Death of Agrippina

The sudden and almost magical change, from the stirring

incidents of the combat to the stillness that now reigned

around him, acted on the heated imagination of Heyward like

some exciting dream. While all the images and events he had

witnessed remained deeply impressed on his memory, he felt a

difficulty in persuading him of their truth. Still ignorant

of the fate of those who had trusted to the aid of the swift

current, he at first listened intently to any signal or

sounds of alarm, which might announce the good or evil

fortune of their hazardous undertaking. His attention was,

however, bestowed in vain; for with the disappearance of

Uncas, every sign of the adventurers had been lost, leaving

him in total uncertainty of their fate.

In a moment of such painful doubt, Duncan did not hesitate

to look around him, without consulting that protection from

the rocks which just before had been so necessary to his

safety. Every effort, however, to detect the least evidence

of the approach of their hidden enemies was as fruitless as

the inquiry after his late companions. The wooded banks of

the river seemed again deserted by everything possessing

animal life. The uproar which had so lately echoed through

the vaults of the forest was gone, leaving the rush of the

waters to swell and sink on the currents of the air, in the

unmingled sweetness of nature. A fish-hawk, which, secure

on the topmost branches of a dead pine, had been a distant

spectator of the fray, now swooped form his high and ragged

perch, and soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a

jay, whose noisy voice had been stilled by the hoarser cries

of the savages, ventured again to open his discordant

throat, as though once more in undisturbed possession of his

wild domains. Duncan caught from these natural

accompaniments of the solitary scene a glimmering of hope;

and he began to rally his faculties to renewed exertions,

with something like a reviving confidence of success.

"The Hurons are not to be seen," he said, addressing David,

who had by no means recovered from the effects of the

stunning blow he had received; "let us conceal ourselves in

the cavern, and trust the rest to Providence."

"I remember to have united with two comely maidens, in

lifting up our voices in praise and thanksgiving," returned

the bewildered singing-master; "since which time I have been

visited by a heavy judgment for my sins. I have been mocked

with the likensss of sleep, while sounds of discord have

rent my ears, such as might manifest the fullness of time,

and that nature had forgotten her harmony."

"Poor fellow! thine own period was, in truth, near its

accomplishment! But arouse, and come with me; I will lead

you where all other sounds but those of your own psalmody

shall be excluded."

"There is melody in the fall of the cataract, and the

rushing of many waters is sweet to the senses!" said David,

pressing his hand confusedly on his brow. "Is not the air

yet filled with shrieks and cries, as though the departed

spirits of the damned--"

"Not now, not now," interrupted the impatient Heyward, "they

have ceased, and they who raised them, I trust in God, they

are gone, too! everything but the water is still and at

peace; in, then, where you may create those sounds you love

so well to hear."

David smiled sadly, though not without a momentary gleam of

pleasure, at this allusion to his beloved vocation. He no

longer hesitated to be led to a spot which promised such

unalloyed gratification to his wearied senses; and leaning

on the arm of his companion, he entered the narrow mouth of

the cave. Duncan seized a pile of the sassafras, which he

drew before the passage, studiously concealing every

appearance of an aperture. Within this fragile barrier he

arranged the blankets abandoned by the foresters, darkening

the inner extremity of the cavern, while its outer received

a chastened light from the narrow ravine, through which one

arm of the river rushed to form the junction with its sister

branch a few rods below.

"I like not the principle of the natives, which teaches them

to submit without a struggle, in emergencies that appear

desperate," he said, while busied in this employment; "our

own maxim, which says, 'while life remains there is hope',

is more consoling, and better suited to a soldier's

temperament. To you, Cora, I will urge no words of idle

encouragement; your own fortitude and undisturbed reason

will teach you all that may become your sex; but cannot we

dry the tears of that trembling weeper on your bosom?"

"I am calmer, Duncan," said Alice, raising herself from the

arms of her sister, and forcing an appearance of composure

through her tears; "much calmer, now. Surely, in this

hidden spot we are safe, we are secret, free from injury; we

will hope everything from those generous men who have risked

so much already in our behalf."

"Now does our gentle Alice speak like a daughter of Munro!"

said Heyward, pausing to press her hand as he passed toward

the outer entrance of the cavern. "With two such examples

of courage before him, a man would be ashamed to prove other

than a hero." He then seated himself in the center of the

cavern, grasping his remaining pistol with a hand

convulsively clenched, while his contracted and frowning eye

announced the sullen desperation of his purpose. "The

Hurons, if they come, may not gain our position so easily as

they think," he slowly muttered; and propping his head back

against the rock, he seemed to await the result in patience,

though his gaze was unceasingly bent on the open avenue to

their place of retreat.

With the last sound of his voice, a deep, a long, and almost

breathless silence succeeded. The fresh air of the morning

had penetrated the recess, and its influence was gradually

felt on the spirits of its inmates. As minute after minute

passed by, leaving them in undisturbed security, the

insinuating feeling of hope was gradually gaining possession

of every bosom, though each one felt reluctant to give

utterance to expectations that the next moment might so

fearfully destroy.

David alone formed an exception to these varying emotions.

A gleam of light from the opening crossed his wan

countenance, and fell upon the pages of the little volume,

whose leaves he was again occupied in turning, as if

searching for some song more fitted to their condition than

any that had yet met their eye. He was, most probably,

acting all this time under a confused recollection of the

promised consolation of Duncan. At length, it would seem,

his patient industry found its reward; for, without

explanation or apology, he pronounced aloud the words "Isle

of Wight," drew a long, sweet sound from his pitch-pipe, and

then ran through the preliminary modulations of the air

whose name he had just mentioned, with the sweeter tones of

his own musical voice.

"May not this prove dangerous?" asked Cora, glancing her

dark eye at Major Heyward.

"Poor fellow! his voice is too feeble to be heard above the

din of the falls," was the answer; "beside, the cavern will

prove his friend. Let him indulge his passions since it may

be done without hazard."

"Isle of Wight!" repeated David, looking about him with that

dignity with which he had long been wont to silence the

whispering echoes of his school; "'tis a brave tune, and set

to solemn words! let it be sung with meet respect!"

After allowing a moment of stillness to enforce his

discipline, the voice of the singer was heard, in low,

murmuring syllables, gradually stealing on the ear, until it

filled the narrow vault with sounds rendered trebly

thrilling by the feeble and tremulous utterance produced by

his debility. The melody, which no weakness could destroy,

gradually wrought its sweet influence on the senses of those

who heard it. It even prevailed over the miserable travesty

of the song of David which the singer had selected from a

volume of similar effusions, and caused the sense to be

forgotten in the insinuating harmony of the sounds. Alice

unconsciously dried her tears, and bent her melting eyes on

the pallid features of Gamut, with an expression of

chastened delight that she neither affected or wished to

conceal. Cora bestowed an approving smile on the pious

efforts of the namesake of the Jewish prince, and Heyward

soon turned his steady, stern look from the outlet of the

cavern, to fasten it, with a milder character, on the face

of David, or to meet the wandering beams which at moments

strayed from the humid eyes of Alice. The open sympathy of

the listeners stirred the spirit of the votary of music,

whose voice regained its richness and volume, without losing

that touching softness which proved its secret charm.

Exerting his renovated powers to their utmost, he was yet

filling the arches of the cave with long and full tones,

when a yell burst into the air without, that instantly

stilled his pious strains, choking his voice suddenly, as

though his heart had literally bounded into the passage of

his throat.

"We are lost!" exclaimed Alice, throwing herself into the

arms of Cora.

"Not yet, not yet," returned the agitated but undaunted

Heyward: "the sound came from the center of the island, and

it has been produced by the sight of their dead companions.

We are not yet discovered, and there is still hope."

Faint and almost despairing as was the prospect of escape,

the words of Duncan were not thrown away, for it awakened

the powers of the sisters in such a manner that they awaited

the results in silence. A second yell soon followed the

first, when a rush of voices was heard pouring down the

island, from its upper to its lower extremity, until they

reached the naked rock above the caverns, where, after a

shout of savage triumph, the air continued full of horrible

cries and screams, such as man alone can utter, and he only

when in a state of the fiercest barbarity.

The sounds quickly spread around them in every direction.

Some called to their fellows from the water's edge, and were

answered from the heights above. Cries were heard in the

startling vicinity of the chasm between the two caves, which

mingled with hoarser yells that arose out of the abyss of

the deep ravine. In short, so rapidly had the savage sounds

diffused themselves over the barren rock, that it was not

difficult for the anxious listeners to imagine they could be

heard beneath, as in truth they were above on every side of

them.

In the midst of this tumult, a triumphant yell was raised

within a few yards of the hidden entrance to the cave.

Heyward abandoned every hope, with the belief it was the

signal that they were discovered. Again the impression

passed away, as he heard the voices collect near the spot

where the white man had so reluctantly abandoned his rifle.

Amid the jargon of Indian dialects that he now plainly

heard, it was easy to distinguish not only words, but

sentences, in the patois of the Canadas. A burst of voices

had shouted simultaneously, "La Longue Carabine!" causing

the opposite woods to re-echo with a name which, Heyward

well remembered, had been given by his enemies to a

celebrated hunter and scout of the English camp, and who, he

now learned for the first time, had been his late companion.

"La Longue Carabine! La Longue Carabine!" passed from mouth

to mouth, until the whole band appeared to be collected

around a trophy which would seem to announce the death of

its formidable owner. After a vociferous consultation,

which was, at times, deafened by bursts of savage joy, they

again separated, filling the air with the name of a foe,

whose body, Heywood could collect from their expressions,

they hoped to find concealed in some crevice of the island.

"Now," he whispered to the trembling sisters, "now is the

moment of uncertainty! if our place of retreat escape this

scrutiny, we are still safe! In every event, we are

assured, by what has fallen from our enemies, that our

friends have escaped, and in two short hours we may look for

succor from Webb."

There were now a few minutes of fearful stillness, during

which Heyward well knew that the savages conducted their

search with greater vigilance and method. More than once he

could distinguish their footsteps, as they brushed the

sassafras, causing the faded leaves to rustle, and the

branches to snap. At length, the pile yielded a little, a

corner of a blanket fell, and a faint ray of light gleamed

into the inner part of the cave. Cora folded Alice to her

bosom in agony, and Duncan sprang to his feet. A shout was

at that moment heard, as if issuing from the center of the

rock, announcing that the neighboring cavern had at length

been entered. In a minute, the number and loudness of the

voices indicated that the whole party was collected in and

around that secret place.

As the inner passages to the two caves were so close to each

other, Duncan, believing that escape was no longer possible,

passed David and the sisters, to place himself between the

latter and the first onset of the terrible meeting. Grown

desperate by his situation, he drew nigh the slight barrier

which separated him only by a few feet from his relentless

pursuers, and placing his face to the casual opening, he

even looked out with a sort of desperate indifference, on

their movements.

Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder of a

gigantic Indian, whose deep and authoritative voice appeared

to give directions to the proceedings of his fellows.

Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the vault opposite,

which was filled with savages, upturning and rifling the

humble furniture of the scout. The wound of David had dyed

the leaves of sassafras with a color that the native well

knew as anticipating the season. Over this sign of their

success, they sent up a howl, like an opening from so many

hounds who had recovered a lost trail. After this yell of

victory, they tore up the fragrant bed of the cavern, and

bore the branches into the chasm, scattering the boughs, as

if they suspected them of concealing the person of the man

they had so long hated and feared. One fierce and wild-

looking warrior approached the chief, bearing a load of the

brush, and pointing exultingly to the deep red stains with

which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in Indian yells,

whose meaning Heyward was only enabled to comprehend by the

frequent repetition of the name "La Longue Carabine!" When

his triumph had ceased, he cast the brush on the slight heap

Duncan had made before the entrance of the second cavern,

and closed the view. His example was followed by others,

who, as they drew the branches from the cave of the scout,

threw them into one pile, adding, unconsciously, to the

security of those they sought. The very slightness of the

defense was its chief merit, for no one thought of

disturbing a mass of brush, which all of them believed, in

that moment of hurry and confusion, had been accidentally

raised by the hands of their own party.

As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, and the

branches settled in the fissure of the rock by their own

weight, forming a compact body, Duncan once more breathed

freely. With a light step and lighter heart, he returned to

the center of the cave, and took the place he had left,

where he could command a view of the opening next the river.

While he was in the act of making this movement, the

Indians, as if changing their purpose by a common impulse,

broke away from the chasm in a body, and were heard rushing

up the island again, toward the point whence they had

originally descended. Here another wailing cry betrayed

that they were again collected around the bodies of their

dead comrades.

Duncan now ventured to look at his companions; for, during

the most critical moments of their danger, he had been

apprehensive that the anxiety of his countenance might

communicate some additional alarm to those who were so

little able to sustain it.

"They are gone, Cora!" he whispered; "Alice, they are

returned whence they came, and we are saved! To Heaven,

that has alone delivered us from the grasp of so merciless

an enemy, be all the praise!"

"Then to Heaven will I return my thanks!" exclaimed the

younger sister, rising from the encircling arm of Cora, and

casting herself with enthusiastic gratitude on the naked

rock; "to that Heaven who has spared the tears of a gray-

headed father; has saved the lives of those I so much love."

Both Heyward and the more temperate Cora witnessed the act

of involuntary emotion with powerful sympathy, the former

secretly believing that piety had never worn a form so

lovely as it had now assumed in the youthful person of

Alice. Her eyes were radiant with the glow of grateful

feelings; the flush of her beauty was again seated on her

cheeks, and her whole soul seemed ready and anxious to pour

out its thanksgivings through the medium of her eloquent

features. But when her lips moved, the words they should

have uttered appeared frozen by some new and sudden chill.

Her bloom gave place to the paleness of death; her soft and

melting eyes grew hard, and seemed contracting with horror;

while those hands, which she had raised, clasped in each

other, toward heaven, dropped in horizontal lines before

her, the fingers pointed forward in convulsed motion.

Heyward turned the instant she gave a direction to his

suspicions, and peering just above the ledge which formed

the threshold of the open outlet of the cavern, he beheld

the malignant, fierce and savage features of Le Renard

Subtil.

In that moment of surprise, the self-possession of Heyward

did not desert him. He observed by the vacant expression of

the Indian's countenance, that his eye, accustomed to the

open air had not yet been able to penetrate the dusky light

which pervaded the depth of the cavern. He had even thought

of retreating beyond a curvature in the natural wall, which

might still conceal him and his companions, when by the

sudden gleam of intelligence that shot across the features

of the savage, he saw it was too late, and that they were

betrayed.

The look of exultation and brutal triumph which announced

this terrible truth was irresistibly irritating. Forgetful

of everything but the impulses of his hot blood, Duncan

leveled his pistol and fired. The report of the weapon made

the cavern bellow like an eruption from a volcano; and when

the smoke it vomited had been driven away before the current

of air which issued from the ravine the place so lately

occupied by the features of his treacherous guide was

vacant. Rushing to the outlet, Heyward caught a glimpse of

his dark figure stealing around a low and narrow ledge,

which soon hid him entirely from sight.

Among the savages a frightful stillness succeeded the

explosion, which had just been heard bursting from the

bowels of the rock. But when Le Renard raised his voice in

a long and intelligible whoop, it was answered by a

spontaneous yell from the mouth of every Indian within

hearing of the sound.

The clamorous noises again rushed down the island; and

before Duncan had time to recover from the shock, his feeble

barrier of brush was scattered to the winds, the cavern was

entered at both its extremities, and he and his companions

were dragged from their shelter and borne into the day,

where they stood surrounded by the whole band of the

triumphant Hurons.

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