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Last of the Mohicans, The
CHAPTER 32
James Fenimore Cooper
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       _
       CHAPTER 32
       "But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase, Till
       the great king, without a ransom paid, To her own Chrysa
       send the black-eyed maid."--Pope
       During the time Uncas was making this disposition of his
       forces, the woods were as still, and, with the exception of
       those who had met in council, apparently as much untenanted
       as when they came fresh from the hands of their Almighty
       Creator. The eye could range, in every direction, through
       the long and shadowed vistas of the trees; but nowhere was
       any object to be seen that did not properly belong to the
       peaceful and slumbering scenery.
       Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the
       branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel dropped
       a nut, drawing the startled looks of the party for a moment
       to the place; but the instant the casual interruption
       ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring above their
       heads, along that verdant and undulating surface of forest,
       which spread itself unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over
       such a vast region of country. Across the tract of
       wilderness which lay between the Delawares and the village
       of their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of man had never
       trodden, so breathing and deep was the silence in which it
       lay. But Hawkeye, whose duty led him foremost in the
       adventure, knew the character of those with whom he was
       about to contend too well to trust the treacherous quiet.
       When he saw his little band collected, the scout threw
       "killdeer" into the hollow of his arm, and making a silent
       signal that he would be followed, he led them many rods
       toward the rear, into the bed of a little brook which they
       had crossed in advancing. Here he halted, and after waiting
       for the whole of his grave and attentive warriors to close
       about him, he spoke in Delaware, demanding:
       "Do any of my young men know whither this run will lead us?"
       A Delaware stretched forth a hand, with the two fingers
       separated, and indicating the manner in which they were
       joined at the root, he answered:
       "Before the sun could go his own length, the little water
       will be in the big." Then he added, pointing in the
       direction of the place he mentioned, "the two make enough
       for the beavers."
       "I thought as much," returned the scout, glancing his eye
       upward at the opening in the tree-tops, "from the course it
       takes, and the bearings of the mountains. Men, we will keep
       within the cover of its banks till we scent the Hurons."
       His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of assent,
       but, perceiving that their leader was about to lead the way
       in person, one or two made signs that all was not as it
       should be. Hawkeye, who comprehended their meaning glances,
       turned and perceived that his party had been followed thus
       far by the singing-master.
       "Do you know, friend," asked the scout, gravely, and perhaps
       with a little of the pride of conscious deserving in his
       manner, "that this is a band of rangers chosen for the most
       desperate service, and put under the command of one who,
       though another might say it with a better face, will not be
       apt to leave them idle. It may not be five, it cannot be
       thirty minutes, before we tread on the body of a Huron,
       living or dead."
       "Though not admonished of your intentions in words,"
       returned David, whose face was a little flushed, and whose
       ordinarily quiet and unmeaning eyes glimmered with an
       expression of unusual fire, "your men have reminded me of
       the children of Jacob going out to battle against the
       Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to wedlock with a woman
       of a race that was favored of the Lord. Now, I have
       journeyed far, and sojourned much in good and evil with the
       maiden ye seek; and, though not a man of war, with my loins
       girded and my sword sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a
       blow in her behalf."
       The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such a
       strange enlistment in his mind before he answered:
       "You know not the use of any we'pon. You carry no rifle;
       and believe me, what the Mingoes take they will freely give
       again."
       "Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed Goliath,"
       returned David, drawing a sling from beneath his parti-
       colored and uncouth attire, "I have not forgotten the
       example of the Jewish boy. With this ancient instrument of
       war have I practised much in my youth, and peradventure the
       skill has not entirely departed from me."
       "Ay!" said Hawkeye, considering the deer-skin thong and
       apron, with a cold and discouraging eye; "the thing might do
       its work among arrows, or even knives; but these Mengwe have
       been furnished by the Frenchers with a good grooved barrel a
       man. However, it seems to be your gift to go unharmed amid
       fire; and as you have hitherto been favored -- major, you
       have left your rifle at a cock; a single shot before the
       time would be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose --
       singer, you can follow; we may find use for you in the
       shoutings."
       "I thank you, friend," returned David, supplying himself,
       like his royal namesake, from among the pebbles of the
       brook; "though not given to the desire to kill, had you sent
       me away my spirit would have been troubled."
       "Remember," added the scout, tapping his own head
       significantly on that spot where Gamut was yet sore, "we
       come to fight, and not to musickate. Until the general
       whoop is given, nothing speaks but the rifle."
       David nodded, as much to signify his acquiescence with the
       terms; and then Hawkeye, casting another observant glance
       over this followers made the signal to proceed.
       Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the bed
       of the water-course. Though protected from any great danger
       of observation by the precipitous banks, and the thick
       shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution known to
       an Indian attack was neglected. A warrior rather crawled
       than walked on each flank so as to catch occasional glimpses
       into the forest; and every few minutes the band came to a
       halt, and listened for hostile sounds, with an acuteness of
       organs that would be scarcely conceivable to a man in a less
       natural state. Their march was, however, unmolested, and
       they reached the point where the lesser stream was lost in
       the greater, without the smallest evidence that their
       progress had been noted. Here the scout again halted, to
       consult the signs of the forest.
       "We are likely to have a good day for a fight," he said, in
       English, addressing Heyward, and glancing his eyes upward at
       the clouds, which began to move in broad sheets across the
       firmament; "a bright sun and a glittering barrel are no
       friends to true sight. Everything is favorable; they have
       the wind, which will bring down their noises and their
       smoke, too, no little matter in itself; whereas, with us it
       will be first a shot, and then a clear view. But here is an
       end to our cover; the beavers have had the range of this
       stream for hundreds of years, and what atween their food and
       their dams, there is, as you see, many a girdled stub, but
       few living trees."
       Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no bad
       description of the prospect that now lay in their front.
       The brook was irregular in its width, sometimes shooting
       through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at others
       spreading over acres of bottom land, forming little areas
       that might be termed ponds. Everywhere along its bands were
       the moldering relics of dead trees, in all the stages of
       decay, from those that groaned on their tottering trunks to
       such as had recently been robbed of those rugged coats that
       so mysteriously contain their principle of life. A few
       long, low, and moss-covered piles were scattered among them,
       like the memorials of a former and long-departed generation.
       All these minute particulars were noted by the scout, with a
       gravity and interest that they probably had never before
       attracted. He knew that the Huron encampment lay a short
       half mile up the brook; and, with the characteristic anxiety
       of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he was greatly troubled
       at not finding the smallest trace of the presence of his
       enemy. Once or twice he felt induced to give the order for
       a rush, and to attempt the village by surprise; but his
       experience quickly admonished him of the danger of so
       useless an experiment. Then he listened intently, and with
       painful uncertainty, for the sounds of hostility in the
       quarter where Uncas was left; but nothing was audible except
       the sighing of the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom
       of the forest in gusts which threatened a tempest. At
       length, yielding rather to his unusual impatience than
       taking counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring
       matters to an issue, by unmasking his force, and proceeding
       cautiously, but steadily, up the stream.
       The scout had stood, while making his observations,
       sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the
       bed of the ravine, through which the smaller stream
       debouched; but on hearing his low, though intelligible,
       signal the whole party stole up the bank, like so many dark
       specters, and silently arranged themselves around him.
       Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, Hawkeye
       advanced, the band breaking off in single files, and
       following so accurately in his footsteps, as to leave it, if
       we except Heyward and David, the trail of but a single man.
       The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a volley
       from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear; and a Delaware
       leaping high in to the air, like a wounded deer, fell at his
       whole length, dead.
       "Ah, I feared some deviltry like this!" exclaimed the scout,
       in English, adding, with the quickness of thought, in his
       adopted tongue: "To cover, men, and charge!"
       The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward had well
       recovered from his surprise, he found himself standing alone
       with David. Luckily the Hurons had already fallen back, and
       he was safe from their fire. But this state of things was
       evidently to be of short continuance; for the scout set the
       example of pressing on their retreat, by discharging his
       rifle, and darting from tree to tree as his enemy slowly
       yielded ground.
       It would seem that the assault had been made by a very small
       party of the Hurons, which, however, continued to increase
       in numbers, as it retired on its friends, until the return
       fire was very nearly, if not quite, equal to that maintained
       by the advancing Delawares. Heyward threw himself among the
       combatants, and imitating the necessary caution of his
       companions, he made quick discharges with his own rifle.
       The contest now grew warm and stationary. Few were injured,
       as both parties kept their bodies as much protected as
       possible by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of
       their persons except in the act of taking aim. But the
       chances were gradually growing unfavorable to Hawkeye and
       his band. The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger
       without knowing how to remedy it. He saw it was more
       dangerous to retreat than to maintain his ground: while he
       found his enemy throwing out men on his flank; which
       rendered the task of keeping themselves covered so very
       difficult to the Delawares, as nearly to silence their fire.
       At this embarrassing moment, when they began to think the
       whole of the hostile tribe was gradually encircling them,
       they heard the yell of combatants and the rattling of arms
       echoing under the arches of the wood at the place where
       Uncas was posted, a bottom which, in a manner, lay beneath
       the ground on which Hawkeye and his party were contending.
       The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to the
       scout and his friends greatly relieving. It would seem
       that, while his own surprise had been anticipated, and had
       consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, having been
       deceived in its object and in his numbers, had left too
       small a force to resist the impetuous onset of the young
       Mohican. This fact was doubly apparent, by the rapid manner
       in which the battle in the forest rolled upward toward the
       village, and by an instant falling off in the number of
       their assailants, who rushed to assist in maintaining the
       front, and, as it now proved to be, the principal point of
       defense.
       Animating his followers by his voice, and his own example,
       Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon their foes.
       The charge, in that rude species of warfare, consisted
       merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher to the enemy;
       and in this maneuver he was instantly and successfully
       obeyed. The Hurons were compelled to withdraw, and the
       scene of the contest rapidly changed from the more open
       ground, on which it had commenced, to a spot where the
       assailed found a thicket to rest upon. Here the struggle
       was protracted, arduous and seemingly of doubtful issue; the
       Delawares, though none of them fell, beginning to bleed
       freely, in consequence of the disadvantage at which they
       were held.
       In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind the same
       tree as that which served for a cover to Heyward; most of
       his own combatants being within call, a little on his right,
       where they maintained rapid, though fruitless, discharges on
       their sheltered enemies.
       "You are a young man, major," said the scout, dropping the
       butt of "killdeer" to the earth, and leaning on the barrel,
       a little fatigued with his previous industry; "and it may be
       your gift to lead armies, at some future day, ag'in these
       imps, the Mingoes. You may here see the philosophy of an
       Indian fight. It consists mainly in ready hand, a quick eye
       and a good cover. Now, if you had a company of the Royal
       Americans here, in what manner would you set them to work in
       this business?"
       "The bayonet would make a road."
       "Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a man must
       ask himself, in this wilderness, how many lives he can
       spare. No -- horse*," continued the scout, shaking his
       head, like one who mused; "horse, I am ashamed to say must
       sooner or later decide these scrimmages. The brutes are
       better than men, and to horse must we come at last. Put a
       shodden hoof on the moccasin of a red-skin, and, if his
       rifle be once emptied, he will never stop to load it again."
       * The American forest admits of the passage of horses,
       there being little underbrush, and few tangled brakes. The
       plan of Hawkeye is the one which has always proved the most
       successful in the battles between the whites and the
       Indians. Wayne, in his celebrated campaign on the Miami,
       received the fire of his enemies in line; and then causing
       his dragoons to wheel round his flanks, the Indians were
       driven from their covers before they had time to load. One
       of the most conspicuous of the chiefs who fought in the
       battle of Miami assured the writer, that the red men could
       not fight the warriors with "long knives and leather
       stockings"; meaning the dragoons with their sabers and
       boots.
       "This is a subject that might better be discussed at another
       time," returned Heyward; "shall we charge?"
       "I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in passing
       his breathing spells in useful reflections," the scout
       replied. "As to rush, I little relish such a measure; for a
       scalp or two must be thrown away in the attempt. And yet,"
       he added, bending his head aside, to catch the sounds of the
       distant combat, "if we are to be of use to Uncas, these
       knaves in our front must be got rid of."
       Then, turning with a prompt and decided air, he called aloud
       to his Indians, in their own language. His words were
       answered by a shout; and, at a given signal, each warrior
       made a swift movement around his particular tree. The sight
       of so many dark bodies, glancing before their eyes at the
       same instant, drew a hasty and consequently an ineffectual
       fire from the Hurons. Without stopping to breathe, the
       Delawares leaped in long bounds toward the wood, like so
       many panthers springing upon their prey. Hawkeye was in
       front, brandishing his terrible rifle and animating his
       followers by his example. A few of the older and more
       cunning Hurons, who had not been deceived by the artifice
       which had been practiced to draw their fire, now made a
       close and deadly discharge of their pieces and justified the
       apprehensions of the scout by felling three of his foremost
       warriors. But the shock was insufficient to repel the
       impetus of the charge. The Delawares broke into the cover
       with the ferocity of their natures and swept away every
       trace of resistance by the fury of the onset.
       The combat endured only for an instant, hand to hand, and
       then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until they reached
       the opposite margin of the thicket, where they clung to the
       cover, with the sort of obstinacy that is so often witnessed
       in hunted brutes. At this critical moment, when the success
       of the struggle was again becoming doubtful, the crack of a
       rifle was heard behind the Hurons, and a bullet came
       whizzing from among some beaver lodges, which were situated
       in the clearing, in their rear, and was followed by the
       fierce and appalling yell of the war-whoop.
       "There speaks the Sagamore!" shouted Hawkeye, answering the
       cry with his own stentorian voice; "we have them now in face
       and back!"
       The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous. Discouraged by
       an assault from a quarter that left them no opportunity for
       cover, the warriors uttered a common yell of disappointment,
       and breaking off in a body, they spread themselves across
       the opening, heedless of every consideration but flight.
       Many fell, in making the experiment, under the bullets and
       the blows of the pursuing Delawares.
       We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the scout
       and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview that Duncan
       held with Munro. A few brief and hurried words served to
       explain the state of things to both parties; and then
       Hawkeye, pointing out the Sagamore to his band, resigned the
       chief authority into the hands of the Mohican chief.
       Chingachgook assumed the station to which his birth and
       experience gave him so distinguished a claim, with the grave
       dignity that always gives force to the mandates of a native
       warrior. Following the footsteps of the scout, he led the
       party back through the thicket, his men scalping the fallen
       Hurons and secreting the bodies of their own dead as they
       proceeded, until they gained a point where the former was
       content to make a halt.
       The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in the
       preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level
       ground, sprinkled with trees in sufficient numbers to
       conceal them. The land fell away rather precipitately in
       front, and beneath their eyes stretched, for several miles,
       a narrow, dark, and wooded vale. It was through this dense
       and dark forest that Uncas was still contending with the
       main body of the Hurons.
       The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of the
       hill, and listened, with practised ears, to the sounds of
       the combat. A few birds hovered over the leafy bosom of the
       valley, frightened from their secluded nests; and here and
       there a light vapory cloud, which seemed already blending
       with the atmosphere, arose above the trees, and indicated
       some spot where the struggle had been fierce and stationary.
       "The fight is coming up the ascent," said Duncan, pointing
       in the direction of a new explosion of firearms; "we are too
       much in the center of their line to be effective."
       "They will incline into the hollow, where the cover is
       thicker," said the scout, "and that will leave us well on
       their flank. Go, Sagamore; you will hardly be in time to
       give the whoop, and lead on the young men. I will fight
       this scrimmage with warriors of my own color. You know me,
       Mohican; not a Huron of them all shall cross the swell, into
       your rear, without the notice of 'killdeer'."
       The Indian chief paused another moment to consider the signs
       of the contest, which was now rolling rapidly up the ascent,
       a certain evidence that the Delawares triumphed; nor did he
       actually quit the place until admonished of the proximity of
       his friends, as well as enemies, by the bullets of the
       former, which began to patter among the dried leaves on the
       ground, like the bits of falling hail which precede the
       bursting of the tempest. Hawkeye and his three companions
       withdrew a few paces to a shelter, and awaited the issue
       with calmness that nothing but great practise could impart
       in such a scene.
       It was not long before the reports of the rifles began to
       lose the echoes of the woods, and to sound like weapons
       discharged in the open air. Then a warrior appeared, here
       and there, driven to the skirts of the forest, and rallying
       as he entered the clearing, as at the place where the final
       stand was to be made. These were soon joined by others,
       until a long line of swarthy figures was to be seen clinging
       to the cover with the obstinacy of desperation. Heyward
       began to grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in
       the direction of Chingachgook. The chief was seated on a
       rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage, considering
       the spectacle with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted
       there merely to view the struggle.
       "The time has come for the Delaware to strike!" said Duncan.
       "Not so, not so," returned the scout; "when he scents his
       friends, he will let them know that he is here. See, see;
       the knaves are getting in that clump of pines, like bees
       settling after their flight. By the Lord, a squaw might put
       a bullet into the center of such a knot of dark skins!"
       At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons fell
       by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band. The shout
       that followed was answered by a single war-cry from the
       forest, and a yell passed through the air that sounded as if
       a thousand throats were united in a common effort. The
       Hurons staggered, deserting the center of their line, and
       Uncas issued from the forest through the opening they left,
       at the head of a hundred warriors.
       Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out
       the enemy to his followers, who separated in pursuit. The
       war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons seeking
       protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the
       victorious warriors of the Lenape. A minute might have
       passed, but the sounds were already receding in different
       directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath
       the echoing arches of the woods. One little knot of Hurons,
       however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring,
       like lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity
       which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted, to mingle
       more closely in the fray. Magua was conspicuous in this
       party, both by his fierce and savage mien, and by the air of
       haughty authority he yet maintained.
       In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had left
       himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye caught the
       figure of Le Subtil, every other consideration was
       forgotten. Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some
       six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity of
       their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy. Le Renard, who
       watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy.
       But at the moment when he thought the rashness of his
       impetuous young assailant had left him at his mercy, another
       shout was given, and La Longue Carabine was seen rushing to
       the rescue, attended by all his white associates. The Huron
       instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the
       ascent.
       There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for
       Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends,
       continued the pursuit with the velocity of the wind. In
       vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the covers; the young
       Mohican braved the dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon
       compelled them to a flight as swift as his own headlong
       speed. It was fortunate that the race was of short
       continuance, and that the white men were much favored by
       their position, or the Delaware would soon have outstripped
       all his companions, and fallen a victim to his own temerity.
       But, ere such a calamity could happen, the pursuers and
       pursued entered the Wyandot village, within striking
       distance of each other.
       Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the
       chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought around their
       council-lodge with the fury of despair. The onset and the
       issue were like the passage and destruction of a whirlwind.
       The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawkeye, and even the
       still nervous arm of Munro were all busy for that passing
       moment, and the ground was quickly strewed with their
       enemies. Still Magua, though daring and much exposed,
       escaped from every effort against his life, with that sort
       of fabled protection that was made to overlook the fortunes
       of favored heroes in the legends of ancient poetry. Raising
       a yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the
       subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted away
       from the place, attended by his two only surviving friends,
       leaving the Delawares engaged in stripping the dead of the
       bloody trophies of their victory.
       But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the melee, bounded
       forward in pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward and David still
       pressing on his footsteps. The utmost that the scout could
       effect, was to keep the muzzle of his rifle a little in
       advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered every
       purpose of a charmed shield. Once Magua appeared disposed
       to make another and a final effort to revenge his losses;
       but, abandoning his intention as soon as demonstrated, he
       leaped into a thicket of bushes, through which he was
       followed by his enemies, and suddenly entered the mouth of
       the cave already known to the reader. Hawkeye, who had only
       forborne to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of
       success, and proclaimed aloud that now they were certain of
       their game. The pursuers dashed into the long and narrow
       entrance, in time to catch a glimpse of the retreating forms
       of the Hurons. Their passage through the natural galleries
       and subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by
       the shrieks and cries of hundreds of women and children.
       The place, seen by its dim and uncertain light, appeared
       like the shades of the infernal regions, across which
       unhappy ghosts and savage demons were flitting in
       multitudes.
       Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him
       possessed but a single object. Heyward and the scout still
       pressed on his rear, actuated, though possibly in a less
       degree, by a common feeling. But their way was becoming
       intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and the
       glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and
       frequent; and for a moment the trace was believed to be
       lost, when a white robe was seen fluttering in the further
       extremity of a passage that seemed to lead up the mountain.
       "'Tis Cora!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror
       and delight were wildly mingled.
       "Cora! Cora!" echoed Uncas, bounding forward like a deer.
       "'Tis the maiden!" shouted the scout. "Courage, lady; we
       come! we come!"
       The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tenfold
       encouraging by this glimpse of the captive. But the way was
       rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impassable. Uncas
       abandoned his rifle, and leaped forward with headlong
       precipitation. Heyward rashly imitated his example, though
       both were, a moment afterward, admonished of his madness by
       hearing the bellowing of a piece, that the Hurons found time
       to discharge down the passage in the rocks, the bullet from
       which even gave the young Mohican a slight wound.
       "We must close!" said the scout, passing his friends by a
       desperate leap; "the knaves will pick us all off at this
       distance; and see, they hold the maiden so as to shield
       themselves!"
       Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, his
       example was followed by his companions, who, by incredible
       exertions, got near enough to the fugitives to perceive that
       Cora was borne along between the two warriors while Magua
       prescribed the direction and manner of their flight. At
       this moment the forms of all four were strongly drawn
       against an opening in the sky, and they disappeared. Nearly
       frantic with disappointment, Uncas and Heyward increased
       efforts that already seemed superhuman, and they issued from
       the cavern on the side of the mountain, in time to note the
       route of the pursued. The course lay up the ascent, and
       still continued hazardous and laborious.
       Encumbered by his rifle, and, perhaps, not sustained by so
       deep an interest in the captive as his companions, the scout
       suffered the latter to precede him a little, Uncas, in his
       turn, taking the lead of Heyward. In this manner, rocks,
       precipices and difficulties were surmounted in an incredibly
       short space, that at another time, and under other
       circumstances, would have been deemed almost insuperable.
       But the impetuous young men were rewarded by finding that,
       encumbered with Cora, the Hurons were losing ground in the
       race.
       "Stay, dog of the Wyandots!" exclaimed Uncas, shaking his
       bright tomahawk at Magua; "a Delaware girl calls stay!"
       "I will go no further!" cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on
       a ledge of rock, that overhung a deep precipice, at no great
       distance from the summit of the mountain. "Kill me if thou
       wilt, detestable Huron; I will go no further."
       The supporters of the maiden raised their ready tomahawks
       with the impious joy that fiends are thought to take in
       mischief, but Magua stayed the uplifted arms. The Huron
       chief, after casting the weapons he had wrested from his
       companions over the rock, drew his knife, and turned to his
       captive, with a look in which conflicting passions fiercely
       contended.
       "Woman," he said, "chose; the wigwam or the knife of Le
       Subtil!"
       Cora regarded him not, but dropping on her knees, she raised
       her eyes and stretched her arms toward heaven, saying in a
       meek and yet confiding voice:
       "I am thine; do with me as thou seest best!"
       "Woman," repeated Magua, hoarsely, and endeavoring in vain
       to catch a glance from her serene and beaming eye, "choose!"
       But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand. The form of
       the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised his arm on
       high, but dropped it again with a bewildered air, like one
       who doubted. Once more he struggled with himself and lifted
       the keen weapon again; but just then a piercing cry was
       heard above them, and Uncas appeared, leaping frantically,
       from a fearful height, upon the ledge. Magua recoiled a
       step; and one of his assistants, profiting by the chance,
       sheathed his own knife in the bosom of Cora.
       The Huron sprang like a tiger on his offending and already
       retreating country man, but the falling form of Uncas
       separated the unnatural combatants. Diverted from his
       object by this interruption, and maddened by the murder he
       had just witnessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of
       the prostrate Delaware, uttering an unearthly shout as he
       committed the dastardly deed. But Uncas arose from the
       blow, as the wounded panther turns upon his foe, and struck
       the murderer of Cora to his feet, by an effort in which the
       last of his failing strength was expended. Then, with a
       stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated
       by the expression of his eye all that he would do had not
       the power deserted him. The latter seized the nerveless arm
       of the unresisting Delaware, and passed his knife into his
       bosom three several times, before his victim, still keeping
       his gaze riveted on his enemy, with a look of
       inextinguishable scorn, fell dead at his feet.
       "Mercy! mercy! Huron," cried Heyward, from above, in tones
       nearly choked by horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive
       from it!"
       Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the
       victorious Magua uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet
       so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage triumph to
       the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet
       below. He was answered by a burst from the lips of the
       scout, whose tall person was just then seen moving swiftly
       toward him, along those dangerous crags, with steps as bold
       and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air.
       But when the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless
       massacre, the ledge was tenanted only by the dead.
       His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then
       shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his
       front. A form stood at the brow of the mountain, on the
       very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an
       awful attitude of menace. Without stopping to consider his
       person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised; but a rock, which
       fell on the head of one of the fugitives below, exposed the
       indignant and glowing countenance of the honest Gamut. Then
       Magua issued from a crevice, and, stepping with calm
       indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he
       leaped a wide fissure, and ascended the rocks at a point
       where the arm of David could not reach him. A single bound
       would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and assure his
       safety. Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused,
       and shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted:
       "The pale faces are dogs! the Delawares women! Magua leaves
       them on the rocks, for the crows!"
       Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short
       of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub on the verge
       of the height. The form of Hawkeye had crouched like a
       beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so
       violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised
       rifle played like a leaf fluttering in the wind. Without
       exhausting himself with fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua
       suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and
       found a fragment for his feet to rest on. Then, summoning
       all his powers, he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded
       as to draw his knees on the edge of the mountain. It was
       now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together,
       that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his
       shoulder. The surrounding rocks themselves were not
       steadier than the piece became, for the single instant that
       it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron relaxed,
       and his body fell back a little, while his knees still kept
       their position. Turning a relentless look on his enemy, he
       shook a hand in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and
       his dark person was seen cutting the air with its head
       downward, for a fleeting instant, until it glided past the
       fringe of shrubbery which clung to the mountain, in its
       rapid flight to destruction.
       Content of CHAPTER 32 [James Fenimore Cooper's novel: The Last of the Mohicans]
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