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CHAPTER 27
"Ant. I shall remember: When C'sar 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 the 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 smooth 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 expression, 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 toward
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 center
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, 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 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 might take revenge?"
"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of thunder.
Another longer 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 *** of their encampment, working
injury, fearful rage took the place of
wonder, and all those fierce passions with which the *** 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 toward 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 these 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 the 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 pretense 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 or 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 flame 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 accouterments 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 specters, more
than warriors seeking the bubble reputation by deeds of desperate daring.
Instead of taking the path which led directly toward 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 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.
(FOOTNOTE: These harangues of the beasts were frequent among the Indians.
They often address their victims in this way, reproaching them for cowardice or
commending their resolution, as they may happen to exhibit fortitude or the reverse,
in suffering.)
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 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.