Chapter 10

"I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn As much as we this

night have overwatched!"--Midsummer Night's Dream

The instant the shock of this sudden misfortune had abated,

Duncan began to make his observations on the appearance and

proceedings of their captors. Contrary to the usages of the

natives in the wantonness of their success they had

respected, not only the persons of the trembling sisters,

but his own. The rich ornaments of his military attire had

indeed been repeatedly handled by different individuals of

the tribes with eyes expressing a savage longing to possess

the baubles; but before the customary violence could be

resorted to, a mandate in the authoritative voice of the

large warrior, already mentioned, stayed the uplifted hand,

and convinced Heyward that they were to be reserved for some

object of particular moment.

While, however, these manifestations of weakness were

exhibited by the young and vain of the party, the more

experienced warriors continued their search throughout both

caverns, with an activity that denoted they were far from

being satisfied with those fruits of their conquest which

had already been brought to light. Unable to discover any

new victim, these diligent workers of vengeance soon

approached their male prisoners, pronouncing the name "La

Longue Carabine," with a fierceness that could not be easily

mistaken. Duncan affected not to comprehend the meaning of

their repeated and violent interrogatories, while his

companion was spared the effort of a similar deception by

his ignorance of French. Wearied at length by their

importunities, and apprehensive of irritating his captors by

too stubborn a silence, the former looked about him in quest

of Magua, who might interpret his answers to questions which

were at each moment becoming more earnest and threatening.

The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary exception

to that of all his fellows. While the others were busily

occupied in seeking to gratify their childish passion for

finery, by plundering even the miserable effects of the

scout, or had been searching with such bloodthirsty

vengeance in their looks for their absent owner, Le Renard

had stood at a little distance from the prisoners, with a

demeanor so quiet and satisfied, as to betray that he had

already effected the grand purpose of his treachery. When

the eyes of Heyward first met those of his recent guide, he

turned them away in horror at the sinister though calm look

he encountered. Conquering his disgust, however, he was

able, with an averted face, to address his successful enemy.

"Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior," said the

reluctant Heyward, "to refuse telling an unarmed man what

his conquerors say."

"They ask for the hunter who knows the paths through the

woods," returned Magua, in his broken English, laying his

hand, at the same time, with a ferocious smile, on the

bundle of leaves with which a wound on his own shoulder was

bandaged. "'La Longue Carabine'! his rifle is good, and his

eye never shut; but, like the short gun of the white chief,

it is nothing against the life of Le Subtil."

"Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts received in

war, or the hands that gave them."

"Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the sugartree

to taste his corn! who filled the bushes with creeping

enemies! who drew the knife, whose tongue was peace, while

his heart was colored with blood! Did Magua say that the

hatchet was out of the ground, and that his hand had dug it

up?"

As Duncan dared not retort upon his accuser by reminding him

of his own premeditated treachery, and disdained to

deprecate his resentment by any words of apology, he

remained silent. Magua seemed also content to rest the

controversy as well as all further communication there, for

he resumed the leaning attitude against the rock from which,

in momentary energy, he had arisen. But the cry of "La

Longue Carabine" was renewed the instant the impatient

savages perceived that the short dialogue was ended.

"You hear," said Magua, with stubborn indifference: "the red

Hurons call for the life of 'The Long Rifle', or they will

have the blood of him that keep him hid!"

"He is gone--escaped; he is far beyond their reach."

Renard smiled with cold contempt, as he answered:

"When the white man dies, he thinks he is at peace; but the

red men know how to torture even the ghosts of their

enemies. Where is his body? Let the Hurons see his scalp."

"He is not dead, but escaped."

Magua shook his head incredulously.

"Is he a bird, to spread his wings; or is he a fish, to swim

without air! The white chief read in his books, and he

believes the Hurons are fools!"

"Though no fish, 'The Long Rifle' can swim. He floated down

the stream when the powder was all burned, and when the eyes

of the Hurons were behind a cloud."

"And why did the white chief stay?" demanded the still

incredulous Indian. "Is he a stone that goes to the bottom,

or does the scalp burn his head?"

"That I am not stone, your dead comrade, who fell into the

falls, might answer, were the life still in him," said the

provoked young man, using, in his anger, that boastful

language which was most likely to excite the admiration of

an Indian. "The white man thinks none but cowards desert

their women."

Magua muttered a few words, inaudibly, between his teeth,

before he continued, aloud:

"Can the Delawares swim, too, as well as crawl in the

bushes? Where is 'Le Gros Serpent'?"

Duncan, who perceived by the use of these Canadian

appellations, that his late companions were much better

known to his enemies than to himself, answered, reluctantly:

"He also is gone down with the water."

"'Le Cerf Agile' is not here?"

"I know not whom you call 'The Nimble Deer'," said Duncan

gladly profiting by any excuse to create delay.

"Uncas," returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware name with

even greater difficulty than he spoke his English words.

"'Bounding Elk' is what the white man says, when he calls to

the young Mohican."

"Here is some confusion in names between us, Le Renard,"

said Duncan, hoping to provoke a discussion. "Daim is the

French for deer, and cerf for stag; elan is the true term,

when one would speak of an elk."

"Yes," muttered the Indian, in his native tongue; "the pale

faces are prattling women! they have two words for each

thing, while a red-skin will make the sound of his voice

speak to him." Then, changing his language, he continued,

adhering to the imperfect nomenclature of his provincial

instructors. "The deer is swift, but weak; the elk is

swift, but strong; and the son of 'Le Serpent' is 'Le Cerf

Agile' Has he leaped the river to the woods?"

"If you mean the younger Delaware, he, too, has gone down

with the water."

As there was nothing improbable to an Indian in the manner

of the escape, Magua admitted the truth of what he had

heard, with a readiness that afforded additional evidence

how little he would prize such worthless captives. With his

companions, however, the feeling was manifestly different.

The Hurons had awaited the result of this short dialogue

with characteristic patience, and with a silence that

increased until there was a general stillness in the band.

When Heyward ceased to speak, they turned their eyes, as one

man, on Magua, demanding, in this expressive manner, an

explanation of what had been said. Their interpreter

pointed to the river, and made them acquainted with the

result, as much by the action as by the few words he

uttered. When the fact was generally understood, the

savages raised a frightful yell, which declared the extent

of their disappointment. Some ran furiously to the water's

edge, beating the air with frantic gestures, while others

spat upon the element, to resent the supposed treason it had

committed against their acknowledged rights as conquerors.

A few, and they not the least powerful and terrific of the

band, threw lowering looks, in which the fiercest passion

was only tempered by habitual self-command, at those

captives who still remained in their power, while one or two

even gave vent to their malignant feelings by the most

menacing gestures, against which neither the sex nor the

beauty of the sisters was any protection. The young soldier

made a desperate but fruitless effort to spring to the side

of Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted in

the rich tresses which were flowing in volumes over her

shoulders, while a knife was passed around the head from

which they fell, as if to denote the horrid manner in which

it was about to be robbed of its beautiful ornament. But

his hands were bound; and at the first movement he made, he

felt the grasp of the powerful Indian who directed the band,

pressing his shoulder like a vise. Immediately conscious

how unavailing any struggle against such an overwhelming

force must prove, he submitted to his fate, encouraging his

gentle companions by a few low and tender assurances, that

the natives seldom failed to threaten more than they

performed.

But while Duncan resorted to these words of consolation to

quiet the apprehensions of the sisters, he was not so weak

as to deceive himself. He well knew that the authority of

an Indian chief was so little conventional, that it was

oftener maintained by physical superiority than by any moral

supremacy he might possess. The danger was, therefore,

magnified exactly in proportion to the number of the savage

spirits by which they were surrounded. The most positive

mandate from him who seemed the acknowledged leader, was

liable to be violated at each moment by any rash hand that

might choose to sacrifice a victim to the manes of some dead

friend or relative. While, therefore, he sustained an

outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart

leaped into his throat, whenever any of their fierce captors

drew nearer than common to the helpless sisters, or fastened

one of their sullen, wandering looks on those fragile forms

which were so little able to resist the slightest assault.

His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, when he

saw that the leader had summoned his warriors to himself in

counsel. Their deliberations were short, and it would seem,

by the silence of most of the party, the decision unanimous.

By the frequency with which the few speakers pointed in the

direction of the encampment of Webb, it was apparent they

dreaded the approach of danger from that quarter. This

consideration probably hastened their determination, and

quickened the subsequent movements.

During his short conference, Heyward, finding a respite from

his gravest fears, had leisure to admire the cautious manner

in which the Hurons had made their approaches, even after

hostilities had ceased.

It has already been stated that the upper half of the island

was a naked rock, and destitute of any other defenses than a

few scattered logs of driftwood. They had selected this

point to make their descent, having borne the canoe through

the wood around the cataract for that purpose. Placing

their arms in the little vessel a dozen men clinging to its

sides had trusted themselves to the direction of the canoe,

which was controlled by two of the most skillful warriors,

in attitudes that enabled them to command a view of the

dangerous passage. Favored by this arrangement, they

touched the head of the island at that point which had

proved so fatal to their first adventurers, but with the

advantages of superior numbers, and the possession of

firearms. That such had been the manner of their descent

was rendered quite apparent to Duncan; for they now bore the

light bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed it in

the water, near the mouth of the outer cavern. As soon as

this change was made, the leader made signs to the prisoners

to descend and enter.

As resistance was impossible, and remonstrance useless,

Heyward set the example of submission, by leading the way

into the canoe, where he was soon seated with the sisters

and the still wondering David. Notwithstanding the Hurons

were necessarily ignorant of the little channels among the

eddies and rapids of the stream, they knew the common signs

of such a navigation too well to commit any material

blunder. When the pilot chosen for the task of guiding the

canoe had taken his station, the whole band plunged again

into the river, the vessel glided down the current, and in a

few moments the captives found themselves on the south bank

of the stream, nearly opposite to the point where they had

struck it the preceding evening.

Here was held another short but earnest consultation, during

which the horses, to whose panic their owners ascribed their

heaviest misfortune, were led from the cover of the woods,

and brought to the sheltered spot. The band now divided.

The great chief, so often mentioned, mounting the charger of

Heyward, led the way directly across the river, followed by

most of his people, and disappeared in the woods, leaving

the prisoners in charge of six savages, at whose head was Le

Renard Subtil. Duncan witnessed all their movements with

renewed uneasiness.

He had been fond of believing, from the uncommon forbearance

of the savages, that he was reserved as a prisoner to be

delivered to Montcalm. As the thoughts of those who are in

misery seldom slumber, and the invention is never more

lively than when it is stimulated by hope, however feeble

and remote, he had even imagined that the parental feelings

of Munro were to be made instrumental in seducing him from

his duty to the king. For though the French commander bore

a high character for courage and enterprise, he was also

thought to be expert in those political practises which do

not always respect the nicer obligations of morality, and

which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy of that

period.

All those busy and ingenious speculations were now

annihilated by the conduct of his captors. That portion of

the band who had followed the huge warrior took the route

toward the foot of the Horican, and no other expectation was

left for himself and companions, than that they were to be

retained as hopeless captives by their savage conquerors.

Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in such an

emergency, to try the potency of gold he overcame his

reluctance to speak to Magua. Addressing himself to his

former guide, who had now assumed the authority and manner

of one who was to direct the future movements of the party,

he said, in tones as friendly and confiding as he could

assume:

"I would speak to Magua, what is fit only for so great a

chief to hear."

The Indian turned his eyes on the young soldier scornfully,

as he answered:

"Speak; trees have no ears."

"But the red Hurons are not deaf; and counsel that is fit

for the great men of a nation would make the young warriors

drunk. If Magua will not listen, the officer of the king

knows how to be silent."

The savage spoke carelessly to his comrades, who were

busied, after their awkward manner, in preparing the horses

for the reception of the sisters, and moved a little to one

side, whither by a cautious gesture he induced Heyward to

follow.

"Now, speak," he said; "if the words are such as Magua

should hear."

"Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the honorable

name given to him by his Canada fathers," commenced Heyward;

"I see his wisdom, and all that he has done for us, and

shall remember it when the hour to reward him arrives. Yes!

Renard has proved that he is not only a great chief in

council, but one who knows how to deceive his enemies!"

"What has Renard done?" coldly demanded the Indian.

"What! has he not seen that the woods were filled with

outlying parties of the enemies, and that the serpent could

not steal through them without being seen? Then, did he not

lose his path to blind the eyes of the Hurons? Did he not

pretend to go back to his tribe, who had treated him ill,

and driven him from their wigwams like a dog? And when he

saw what he wished to do, did we not aid him, by making a

false face, that the Hurons might think the white man

believed that his friend was his enemy? Is not all this

true? And when Le Subtil had shut the eyes and stopped the

ears of his nation by his wisdom, did they not forget that

they had once done him wrong, and forced him to flee to the

Mohawks? And did they not leave him on the south side of the

river, with their prisoners, while they have gone foolishly

on the north? Does not Renard mean to turn like a fox on his

footsteps, and to carry to the rich and gray-headed

Scotchman his daughters? Yes, Magua, I see it all, and I

have already been thinking how so much wisdom and honesty

should be repaid. First, the chief of William Henry will

give as a great chief should for such a service. The medal*

of Magua will no longer be on tin, but of beaten gold; his

horn will run over with powder; dollars will be as plenty in

his pouch as pebbles on the shore of Horican; and the deer

will lick his hand, for they will know it to be vain to fly

from the rifle he will carry! As for myself, I know not how

to exceed the gratitude of the Scotchman, but I--yes, I

will--"

* It has long been a practice with the whites to

conciliate the important men of the Indians by presenting

medals, which are worn in the place of their own rude

ornaments. Those given by the English generally bear the

impression of the reigning king, and those given by the

Americans that of the president.

"What will the young chief, who comes from toward the sun,

give?" demanded the Huron, observing that Heyward hesitated

in his desire to end the enumeration of benefits with that

which might form the climax of an Indian's wishes.

"He will make the fire-water from the islands in the salt

lake flow before the wigwam of Magua, until the heart of the

Indian shall be lighter than the feathers of the humming-

bird, and his breath sweeter than the wild honeysuckle."

Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly proceeded

in this subtle speech. When the young man mentioned the

artifice he supposed the Indian to have practised on his own

nation, the countenance of the listener was veiled in an

expression of cautious gravity. At the allusion to the

injury which Duncan affected to believe had driven the Huron

from his native tribe, a gleam of such ungovernable ferocity

flashed from the other's eyes, as induced the adventurous

speaker to believe he had struck the proper chord. And by

the time he reached the part where he so artfully blended

the thirst of vengeance with the desire of gain, he had, at

least, obtained a command of the deepest attention of the

savage. The question put by Le Renard had been calm, and

with all the dignity of an Indian; but it was quite

apparent, by the thoughtful expression of the listener's

countenance, that the answer was most cunningly devised.

The Huron mused a few moments, and then laying his hand on

the rude bandages of his wounded shoulder, he said, with

some energy:

"Do friends make such marks?"

"Would 'La Longue Carbine' cut one so slight on an enemy?"

"Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love like snakes,

twisting themselves to strike?"

"Would 'Le Gros Serpent' have been heard by the ears of one

he wished to be deaf?"

"Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces of his

brothers?"

"Does he ever miss his aim, when seriously bent to kill?"

returned Duncan, smiling with well acted sincerity.

Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these

sententious questions and ready replies. Duncan saw that

the Indian hesitated. In order to complete his victory, he

was in the act of recommencing the enumeration of the

rewards, when Magua made an expressive gesture and said:

"Enough; Le Renard is a wise chief, and what he does will be

seen. Go, and keep the mouth shut. When Magua speaks, it

will be the time to answer."

Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion were

warily fastened on the rest of the band, fell back

immediately, in order to avoid the appearance of any

suspicious confederacy with their leader. Magua approached

the horses, and affected to be well pleased with the

diligence and ingenuity of his comrades. He then signed to

Heyward to assist the sisters into the saddles, for he

seldom deigned to use the English tongue, unless urged by

some motive of more than usual moment.

There was no longer any plausible pretext for delay; and

Duncan was obliged, however reluctantly, to comply. As he

performed this office, he whispered his reviving hopes in

the ears of the trembling females, who, through dread of

encountering the savage countenances of their captors,

seldom raised their eyes from the ground. The mare of David

had been taken with the followers of the large chief; in

consequence, its owner, as well as Duncan, was compelled to

journey on foot. The latter did not, however, so much

regret this circumstance, as it might enable him to retard

the speed of the party; for he still turned his longing

looks in the direction of Fort Edward, in the vain

expectation of catching some sound from that quarter of the

forest, which might denote the approach of succor. When all

were prepared, Magua made the signal to proceed, advancing

in front to lead the party in person. Next followed David,

who was gradually coming to a true sense of his condition,

as the effects of the wound became less and less apparent.

The sisters rode in his rear, with Heyward at their side,

while the Indians flanked the party, and brought up the

close of the march, with a caution that seemed never to

tire.

In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence,

except when Heyward addressed some solitary word of comfort

to the females, or David gave vent to the moanings of his

spirit, in piteous exclamations, which he intended should

express the humility of resignation. Their direction lay

toward the south, and in a course nearly opposite to the

road to William Henry. Notwithstanding this apparent

adherence in Magua to the original determination of his

conquerors, Heyward could not believe his tempting bait was

so soon forgotten; and he knew the windings of an Indian's

path too well to suppose that its apparent course led

directly to its object, when artifice was at all necessary.

Mile after mile was, however, passed through the boundless

woods, in this painful manner, without any prospect of a

termination to their journey. Heyward watched the sun, as

he darted his meridian rays through the branches of the

trees, and pined for the moment when the policy of Magua

should change their route to one more favorable to his

hopes. Sometimes he fancied the wary savage, despairing of

passing the army of Montcalm in safety, was holding his way

toward a well-known border settlement, where a distinguished

officer of the crown, and a favored friend of the Six

Nations, held his large possessions, as well as his usual

residence. To be delivered into the hands of Sir William

Johnson was far preferable to being led into the wilds of

Canada; but in order to effect even the former, it would be

necessary to traverse the forest for many weary leagues,

each step of which was carrying him further from the scene

of the war, and, consequently, from the post, not only of

honor, but of duty.

Cora alone remembered the parting injunctions of the scout,

and whenever an opportunity offered, she stretched forth her

arm to bend aside the twigs that met her hands. But the

vigilance of the Indians rendered this act of precaution

both difficult and dangerous. She was often defeated in her

purpose, by encountering their watchful eyes, when it became

necessary to feign an alarm she did not feel, and occupy the

limb by some gesture of feminine apprehension. Once, and

once only, was she completely successful; when she broke

down the bough of a large sumach, and by a sudden thought,

let her glove fall at the same instant. This sign, intended

for those that might follow, was observed by one of her

conductors, who restored the glove, broke the remaining

branches of the bush in such a manner that it appeared to

proceed from the struggling of some beast in its branches,

and then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with a look so

significant, that it put an effectual end to these stolen

memorials of their passage.

As there were horses, to leave the prints of their

footsteps, in both bands of the Indians, this interruption

cut off any probable hopes of assistance being conveyed

through the means of their trail.

Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance had there been

anything encouraging in the gloomy reserve of Magua. But

the savage, during all this time, seldom turned to look at

his followers, and never spoke. With the sun for his only

guide, or aided by such blind marks as are only known to the

sagacity of a native, he held his way along the barrens of

pine, through occasional little fertile vales, across brooks

and rivulets, and over undulating hills, with the accuracy

of instinct, and nearly with the directness of a bird. He

never seemed to hesitate. Whether the path was hardly

distinguishable, whether it disappeared, or whether it lay

beaten and plain before him, made no sensible difference in

his speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not

affect him. Whenever the eyes of the wearied travelers rose

from the decayed leaves over which they trod, his dark form

was to be seen glancing among the stems of the trees in

front, his head immovably fastened in a forward position,

with the light plume on his crest fluttering in a current of

air, made solely by the swiftness of his own motion.

But all this diligence and speed were not without an object.

After crossing a low vale, through which a gushing brook

meandered, he suddenly ascended a hill, so steep and

difficult of ascent, that the sisters were compelled to

alight in order to follow. When the summit was gained, they

found themselves on a level spot, but thinly covered with

trees, under one of which Magua had thrown his dark form, as

if willing and ready to seek that rest which was so much

needed by the whole party.

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