CHAPTER VII.

“They do not sleep,

On yonder cliffs, a grizzly band,

I see them sit.”—Gray

“’Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for our good to lie

hid any longer,” said Hawkeye “when such sounds are raised in the

forest. These gentle ones may keep close, but the Mohicans and I will watch

upon the rock, where I suppose a major of the Sixtieth would wish to keep us

company.”

“Is, then, our danger so pressing?” asked Cora.

“He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man’s

information, alone knows our danger. I should think myself wicked, unto

rebellion against His will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air! Even

the weak soul who passes his days in singing is stirred by the cry, and, as he

says, is ‘ready to go forth to the battle’ If ’twere only a

battle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily managed; but I

have heard that when such shrieks are atween heaven and ’arth, it

betokens another sort of warfare!”

“If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to such as proceed

from supernatural causes, we have but little occasion to be alarmed,”

continued the undisturbed Cora, “are you certain that our enemies have

not invented some new and ingenious method to strike us with terror, that their

conquest may become more easy?”

“Lady,” returned the scout, solemnly, “I have listened to all

the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will listen whose life and

death depend on the quickness of his ears. There is no whine of the panther, no

whistle of the catbird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that can

cheat me! I have heard the forest moan like mortal men in their affliction;

often, and again, have I listened to the wind playing its music in the branches

of the girdled trees; and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air like

the snapping of blazing brush as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames; but

never have I thought that I heard more than the pleasure of him who sported

with the things of his hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white

man without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We, therefore, believe it

a sign given for our good.”

“It is extraordinary!” said Heyward, taking his pistols from the

place where he had laid them on entering; “be it a sign of peace or a

signal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I follow.”

On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party instantly

experienced a grateful renovation of spirits, by exchanging the pent air of the

hiding-place for the cool and invigorating atmosphere which played around the

whirlpools and pitches of the cataract. A heavy evening breeze swept along the

surface of the river, and seemed to drive the roar of the falls into the

recesses of their own cavern, whence it issued heavily and constant, like

thunder rumbling beyond the distant hills. The moon had risen, and its light

was already glancing here and there on the waters above them; but the extremity

of the rock where they stood still lay in shadow. With the exception of the

sounds produced by the rushing waters, and an occasional breathing of the air,

as it murmured past them in fitful currents, the scene was as still as night

and solitude could make it. In vain were the eyes of each individual bent along

the opposite shores, in quest of some signs of life, that might explain the

nature of the interruption they had heard. Their anxious and eager looks were

baffled by the deceptive light, or rested only on naked rocks, and straight and

immovable trees.

“Here is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet of a lovely

evening,” whispered Duncan; “how much should we prize such a scene,

and all this breathing solitude, at any other moment, Cora! Fancy yourselves in

security, and what now, perhaps, increases your terror, may be made conducive

to enjoyment—”

“Listen!” interrupted Alice.

The caution was unnecessary. Once more the same sound arose, as if from the bed

of the river, and having broken out of the narrow bounds of the cliffs, was

heard undulating through the forest, in distant and dying cadences.

“Can any here give a name to such a cry?” demanded Hawkeye, when

the last echo was lost in the woods; “if so, let him speak; for myself, I

judge it not to belong to ’arth!”

“Here, then, is one who can undeceive you,” said Duncan; “I

know the sound full well, for often have I heard it on the field of battle, and

in situations which are frequent in a soldier’s life. ’Tis the

horrid shriek that a horse will give in his agony; oftener drawn from him in

pain, though sometimes in terror. My charger is either a prey to the beasts of

the forest, or he sees his danger, without the power to avoid it. The sound

might deceive me in the cavern, but in the open air I know it too well to be

wrong.”

The scout and his companions listened to this simple explanation with the

interest of men who imbibe new ideas, at the same time that they get rid of old

ones, which had proved disagreeable inmates. The two latter uttered their usual

expressive exclamation, “hugh!” as the truth first glanced upon

their minds, while the former, after a short, musing pause, took upon himself

to reply.

“I cannot deny your words,” he said, “for I am little skilled

in horses, though born where they abound. The wolves must be hovering above

their heads on the bank, and the timorsome creatures are calling on man for

help, in the best manner they are able. Uncas”—he spoke in

Delaware—“Uncas, drop down in the canoe, and whirl a brand among

the pack; or fear may do what the wolves can’t get at to perform, and

leave us without horses in the morning, when we shall have so much need to

journey swiftly!”

The young native had already descended to the water to comply, when a long howl

was raised on the edge of the river, and was borne swiftly off into the depths

of the forest, as though the beasts, of their own accord, were abandoning their

prey in sudden terror. Uncas, with instinctive quickness, receded, and the

three foresters held another of their low, earnest conferences.

“We have been like hunters who have lost the points of the heavens, and

from whom the sun has been hid for days,” said Hawkeye, turning away from

his companions; “now we begin again to know the signs of our course, and

the paths are cleared from briers! Seat yourselves in the shade which the moon

throws from yonder beech—’tis thicker than that of the

pines—and let us wait for that which the Lord may choose to send next.

Let all your conversation be in whispers; though it would be better, and,

perhaps, in the end, wiser, if each one held discourse with his own thoughts,

for a time.”

The manner of the scout was seriously impressive, though no longer

distinguished by any signs of unmanly apprehension. It was evident that his

momentary weakness had vanished with the explanation of a mystery which his own

experience had not served to fathom; and though he now felt all the realities

of their actual condition, that he was prepared to meet them with the energy of

his hardy nature. This feeling seemed also common to the natives, who placed

themselves in positions which commanded a full view of both shores, while their

own persons were effectually concealed from observation. In such circumstances,

common prudence dictated that Heyward and his companions should imitate a

caution that proceeded from so intelligent a source. The young man drew a pile

of the sassafras from the cave, and placing it in the chasm which separated the

two caverns, it was occupied by the sisters, who were thus protected by the

rocks from any missiles, while their anxiety was relieved by the assurance that

no danger could approach without a warning. Heyward himself was posted at hand,

so near that he might communicate with his companions without raising his voice

to a dangerous elevation; while David, in imitation of the woodsmen, bestowed

his person in such a manner among the fissures of the rocks, that his ungainly

limbs were no longer offensive to the eye.

In this manner hours passed without further interruption. The moon reached the

zenith, and shed its mild light perpendicularly on the lovely sight of the

sisters slumbering peacefully in each other’s arms. Duncan cast the wide

shawl of Cora before a spectacle he so much loved to contemplate, and then

suffered his own head to seek a pillow on the rock. David began to utter sounds

that would have shocked his delicate organs in more wakeful moments; in short,

all but Hawkeye and the Mohicans lost every idea of consciousness, in

uncontrollable drowsiness. But the watchfulness of these vigilant protectors

neither tired nor slumbered. Immovable as that rock, of which each appeared to

form a part, they lay, with their eyes roving, without intermission, along the

dark margin of trees, that bounded the adjacent shores of the narrow stream.

Not a sound escaped them; the most subtle examination could not have told they

breathed. It was evident that this excess of caution proceeded from an

experience that no subtlety on the part of their enemies could deceive. It was,

however, continued without any apparent consequences, until the moon had set,

and a pale streak above the treetops, at the bend of the river a little below,

announced the approach of day.

Then, for the first time, Hawkeye was seen to stir. He crawled along the rock

and shook Duncan from his heavy slumbers.

“Now is the time to journey,” he whispered; “awake the gentle

ones, and be ready to get into the canoe when I bring it to the

landing-place.”

“Have you had a quiet night?” said Heyward; “for myself, I

believe sleep has got the better of my vigilance.”

“All is yet still as midnight. Be silent, but be quick.”

By this time Duncan was thoroughly awake, and he immediately lifted the shawl

from the sleeping females. The motion caused Cora to raise her hand as if to

repulse him, while Alice murmured, in her soft, gentle voice, “No, no,

dear father, we were not deserted; Duncan was with us!”

“Yes, sweet innocence,” whispered the youth; “Duncan is here,

and while life continues or danger remains, he will never quit thee. Cora!

Alice! awake! The hour has come to move!”

A loud shriek from the younger of the sisters, and the form of the other

standing upright before him, in bewildered horror, was the unexpected answer he

received.

While the words were still on the lips of Heyward, there had arisen such a

tumult of yells and cries as served to drive the swift currents of his own

blood back from its bounding course into the fountains of his heart. It seemed,

for near a minute, as if the demons of hell had possessed themselves of the air

about them, and were venting their savage humors in barbarous sounds. The cries

came from no particular direction, though it was evident they filled the woods,

and, as the appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of the falls, the

rocks, the bed of the river, and the upper air. David raised his tall person in

the midst of the infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming:

“Whence comes this discord! Has hell broke loose, that man should utter

sounds like these!”

The bright flashes and the quick reports of a dozen rifles, from the opposite

banks of the stream, followed this incautious exposure of his person, and left

the unfortunate singing master senseless on that rock where he had been so long

slumbering. The Mohicans boldly sent back the intimidating yell of their

enemies, who raised a shout of savage triumph at the fall of Gamut. The flash

of rifles was then quick and close between them, but either party was too well

skilled to leave even a limb exposed to the hostile aim. Duncan listened with

intense anxiety for the strokes of the paddle, believing that flight was now

their only refuge. The river glanced by with its ordinary velocity, but the

canoe was nowhere to be seen on its dark waters. He had just fancied they were

cruelly deserted by their scout, as a stream of flame issued from the rock

beneath them, and a fierce yell, blended with a shriek of agony, announced that

the messenger of death sent from the fatal weapon of Hawkeye, had found a

victim. At this slight repulse the assailants instantly withdrew, and gradually

the place became as still as before the sudden tumult.

Duncan seized the favorable moment to spring to the body of Gamut, which he

bore within the shelter of the narrow chasm that protected the sisters. In

another minute the whole party was collected in this spot of comparative

safety.

“The poor fellow has saved his scalp,” said Hawkeye, coolly passing

his hand over the head of David; “but he is a proof that a man may be

born with too long a tongue! ’Twas downright madness to show six feet of

flesh and blood, on a naked rock, to the raging savages. I only wonder he has

escaped with life.”

“Is he not dead?” demanded Cora, in a voice whose husky tones

showed how powerfully natural horror struggled with her assumed firmness.

“Can we do aught to assist the wretched man?”

“No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he has slept awhile he

will come to himself, and be a wiser man for it, till the hour of his real time

shall come,” returned Hawkeye, casting another oblique glance at the

insensible body, while he filled his charger with admirable nicety.

“Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him on the sassafras. The longer his nap

lasts the better it will be for him, as I doubt whether he can find a proper

cover for such a shape on these rocks; and singing won’t do any good with

the Iroquois.”

“You believe, then, the attack will be renewed?” asked Heyward.

“Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving with a mouthful! They

have lost a man, and ’tis their fashion, when they meet a loss, and fail

in the surprise, to fall back; but we shall have them on again, with new

expedients to circumvent us, and master our scalps. Our main hope,” he

continued, raising his rugged countenance, across which a shade of anxiety just

then passed like a darkening cloud, “will be to keep the rock until Munro

can send a party to our help! God send it may be soon and under a leader that

knows the Indian customs!”

“You hear our probable fortunes, Cora,” said Duncan, “and you

know we have everything to hope from the anxiety and experience of your father.

Come, then, with Alice, into this cavern, where you, at least, will be safe

from the murderous rifles of our enemies, and where you may bestow a care

suited to your gentle natures on our unfortunate comrade.”

The sisters followed him into the outer cave, where David was beginning, by his

sighs, to give symptoms of returning consciousness, and then commending the

wounded man to their attention, he immediately prepared to leave them.

“Duncan!” said the tremulous voice of Cora, when he had reached the

mouth of the cavern. He turned and beheld the speaker, whose color had changed

to a deadly paleness, and whose lips quivered, gazing after him, with an

expression of interest which immediately recalled him to her side.

“Remember, Duncan, how necessary your safety is to our own—how you

bear a father’s sacred trust—how much depends on your discretion

and care—in short,” she added, while the telltale blood stole over

her features, crimsoning her very temples, “how very deservedly dear you

are to all of the name of Munro.”

“If anything could add to my own base love of life,” said Heyward,

suffering his unconscious eyes to wander to the youthful form of the silent

Alice, “it would be so kind an assurance. As major of the Sixtieth, our

honest host will tell you I must take my share of the fray; but our task will

be easy; it is merely to keep these blood-hounds at bay for a few hours.”

Without waiting for a reply, he tore himself from the presence of the sisters,

and joined the scout and his companions, who still lay within the protection of

the little chasm between the two caves.

“I tell you, Uncas,” said the former, as Heyward joined them,

“you are wasteful of your powder, and the kick of the rifle disconcerts

your aim! Little powder, light lead, and a long arm, seldom fail of bringing

the death screech from a Mingo! At least, such has been my experience with the

creatur’s. Come, friends: let us to our covers, for no man can tell when

or where a Maqua[1]

will strike his blow.”

[1]

Mingo was the Delaware term of the Five Nations. Maquas was the name given

them by the Dutch. The French, from their first intercourse with them, called

them Iroquois.

The Indians silently repaired to their appointed stations, which were fissures

in the rocks, whence they could command the approaches to the foot of the

falls. In the center of the little island, a few short and stunted pines had

found root, forming a thicket, into which Hawkeye darted with the swiftness of

a deer, followed by the active Duncan. Here they secured themselves, as well as

circumstances would permit, among the shrubs and fragments of stone that were

scattered about the place. Above them was a bare, rounded rock, on each side of

which the water played its gambols, and plunged into the abysses beneath, in

the manner already described. As the day had now dawned, the opposite shores no

longer presented a confused outline, but they were able to look into the woods,

and distinguish objects beneath a canopy of gloomy pines.

A long and anxious watch succeeded, but without any further evidences of a

renewed attack; and Duncan began to hope that their fire had proved more fatal

than was supposed, and that their enemies had been effectually repulsed. When

he ventured to utter this impression to his companions, it was met by Hawkeye

with an incredulous shake of the head.

“You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think he is so easily beaten

back without a scalp!” he answered. “If there was one of the imps

yelling this morning, there were forty! and they know our number and quality

too well to give up the chase so soon. Hist! look into the water above, just

where it breaks over the rocks. I am no mortal, if the risky devils

haven’t swam down upon the very pitch, and, as bad luck would have it,

they have hit the head of the island. Hist! man, keep close! or the hair will

be off your crown in the turning of a knife!”

Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld what he justly considered a

prodigy of rashness and skill. The river had worn away the edge of the soft

rock in such a manner as to render its first pitch less abrupt and

perpendicular than is usual at waterfalls. With no other guide than the ripple

of the stream where it met the head of the island, a party of their insatiable

foes had ventured into the current, and swam down upon this point, knowing the

ready access it would give, if successful, to their intended victims.

As Hawkeye ceased speaking, four human heads could be seen peering above a few

logs of drift-wood that had lodged on these naked rocks, and which had probably

suggested the idea of the practicability of the hazardous undertaking. At the

next moment, a fifth form was seen floating over the green edge of the fall, a

little from the line of the island. The savage struggled powerfully to gain the

point of safety, and, favored by the glancing water, he was already stretching

forth an arm to meet the grasp of his companions, when he shot away again with

the shirling current, appeared to rise into the air, with uplifted arms and

starting eyeballs, and fell, with a sudden plunge, into that deep and yawning

abyss over which he hovered. A single, wild, despairing shriek rose from the

cavern, and all was hushed again as the grave.

The first generous impulse of Duncan was to rush to the rescue of the hapless

wretch; but he felt himself bound to the spot by the iron grasp of the

immovable scout.

“Would ye bring certain death upon us, by telling the Mingoes where we

lie?” demanded Hawkeye, sternly; “’Tis a charge of powder

saved, and ammunition is as precious now as breath to a worried deer! Freshen

the priming of your pistols—the midst of the falls is apt to dampen the

brimstone—and stand firm for a close struggle, while I fire on their

rush.”

He placed a finger in his mouth, and drew a long, shrill whistle, which was

answered from the rocks that were guarded by the Mohicans. Duncan caught

glimpses of heads above the scattered drift-wood, as this signal rose on the

air, but they disappeared again as suddenly as they had glanced upon his sight.

A low, rustling sound next drew his attention behind him, and turning his head,

he beheld Uncas within a few feet, creeping to his side. Hawkeye spoke to him

in Delaware, when the young chief took his position with singular caution and

undisturbed coolness. To Heyward this was a moment of feverish and impatient

suspense; though the scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read a

lecture to his more youthful associates on the art of using firearms with

discretion.

“Of all we’pons,” he commenced, “the long barreled,

true-grooved, soft-metaled rifle is the most dangerous in skillful hands,

though it wants a strong arm, a quick eye, and great judgment in charging, to

put forth all its beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight into

their trade when they make their fowling-pieces and short

horsemen’s—”

He was interrupted by the low but expressive “hugh” of Uncas.

“I see them, boy, I see them!” continued Hawkeye; “they are

gathering for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs below the logs.

Well, let them,” he added, examining his flint; “the leading man

certainly comes on to his death, though it should be Montcalm himself!”

At that moment the woods were filled with another burst of cries, and at the

signal four savages sprang from the cover of the driftwood. Heyward felt a

burning desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense was the delirious

anxiety of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate examples of the

scout and Uncas.

When their foes, who had leaped over the black rocks that divided them, with

long bounds, uttering the wildest yells, were within a few rods, the rifle of

Hawkeye slowly rose among the shrubs, and poured out its fatal contents. The

foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer, and fell headlong among the

clefts of the island.

“Now, Uncas!” cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while his

quick eyes began to flash with ardor, “take the last of the screeching

imps; of the other two we are sartain!”

He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be overcome. Heyward had given

one of his pistols to Hawkeye, and together they rushed down a little declivity

toward their foes; they discharged their weapons at the same instant, and

equally without success.

“I know’d it! and I said it!” muttered the scout, whirling

the despised little implement over the falls with bitter disdain. “Come

on, ye bloody minded hell-hounds! ye meet a man without a cross!”

The words were barely uttered, when he encountered a savage of gigantic

stature, of the fiercest mien. At the same moment, Duncan found himself engaged

with the other, in a similar contest of hand to hand. With ready skill, Hawkeye

and his antagonist each grasped that uplifted arm of the other which held the

dangerous knife. For near a minute they stood looking one another in the eye,

and gradually exerting the power of their muscles for the mastery.

[Illustration]

At length, the toughened sinews of the white man prevailed over the less

practiced limbs of the native. The arm of the latter slowly gave way before the

increasing force of the scout, who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from the

grasp of the foe, drove the sharp weapon through his naked bosom to the heart.

In the meantime, Heyward had been pressed in a more deadly struggle. His slight

sword was snapped in the first encounter. As he was destitute of any other

means of defense, his safety now depended entirely on bodily strength and

resolution. Though deficient in neither of these qualities, he had met an enemy

every way his equal. Happily, he soon succeeded in disarming his adversary,

whose knife fell on the rock at their feet; and from this moment it became a

fierce struggle who should cast the other over the dizzy height into a

neighboring cavern of the falls. Every successive struggle brought them nearer

to the verge, where Duncan perceived the final and conquering effort must be

made. Each of the combatants threw all his energies into that effort, and the

result was, that both tottered on the brink of the precipice. Heyward felt the

grasp of the other at his throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, under

the revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a fate similar to his own, as

he felt his body slowly yielding to a resistless power, and the young man

experienced the passing agony of such a moment in all its horrors. At that

instant of extreme danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared before him;

the Indian released his hold, as the blood flowed freely from around the

severed tendons of the wrist; and while Duncan was drawn backward by the saving

hand of Uncas, his charmed eyes still were riveted on the fierce and

disappointed countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly and disappointed down

the irrecoverable precipice.

“To cover! to cover!” cried Hawkeye, who just then had despatched

the enemy; “to cover, for your lives! the work is but half ended!”

The young Mohican gave a shout of triumph, and followed by Duncan, he glided up

the acclivity they had descended to the combat, and sought the friendly shelter

of the rocks and shrubs.