The Last of the Mohicans; A narrative of 1757
until the Indians had cautiously paddled the canoe some distance from the fort,
and within the broad and dark shadows that fell from the eastern mountain on
the glassy surface of the lake; then he demanded:
“What need have we for this stolen and hurried departure?”
“If the blood of an Oneida could stain such a sheet of pure water as this
we float on,” returned the scout, “your two eyes would answer your
own question. Have you forgotten the skulking reptile Uncas slew?”
“By no means. But he was said to be alone, and dead men give no cause for
fear.”
“Ay, he was alone in his deviltry! but an Indian whose tribe counts so
many warriors, need seldom fear his blood will run without the death shriek
coming speedily from some of his enemies.”
“But our presence—the authority of Colonel Munro—would prove
sufficient protection against the anger of our allies, especially in a case
where the wretch so well merited his fate. I trust in Heaven you have not
deviated a single foot from the direct line of our course with so slight a
reason!”
“Do you think the bullet of that varlet’s rifle would have turned
aside, though his sacred majesty the king had stood in its path?”
returned the stubborn scout. “Why did not the grand Frencher, he who is
captain-general of the Canadas, bury the tomahawks of the Hurons, if a word
from a white can work so strongly on the natur’ of an Indian?”
The reply of Heyward was interrupted by a groan from Munro; but after he had
paused a moment, in deference to the sorrow of his aged friend he resumed the
subject.
“The marquis of Montcalm can only settle that error with his God,”
said the young man solemnly.
“Ay, ay, now there is reason in your words, for they are bottomed on
religion and honesty. There is a vast difference between throwing a regiment of
white coats atwixt the tribes and the prisoners, and coaxing an angry savage to
forget he carries a knife and rifle, with words that must begin with calling
him your son. No, no,” continued the scout, looking back at the dim shore
of William Henry, which was now fast receding, and laughing in his own silent
but heartfelt manner; “I have put a trail of water atween us; and unless
the imps can make friends with the fishes, and hear who has paddled across
their basin this fine morning, we shall throw the length of the Horican behind
us before they have made up their minds which path to take.”
“With foes in front, and foes in our rear, our journey is like to be one
of danger.”
“Danger!” repeated Hawkeye, calmly; “no, not absolutely of
danger; for, with vigilant ears and quick eyes, we can manage to keep a few
hours ahead of the knaves; or, if we must try the rifle, there are three of us
who understand its gifts as well as any you can name on the borders. No, not of
danger; but that we shall have what you may call a brisk push of it, is
probable; and it may happen, a brush, a scrimmage, or some such divarsion, but
always where covers are good, and ammunition abundant.”
It is possible that Heyward’s estimate of danger differed in some degree
from that of the scout, for, instead of replying, he now sat in silence, while
the canoe glided over several miles of water. Just as the day dawned, they
entered the narrows of the lake[1],
and stole swiftly and cautiously among their numberless little islands. It was
by this road that Montcalm had retired with his army, and the adventurers knew
not but he had left some of his Indians in ambush, to protect the rear of his
forces, and collect the stragglers. They, therefore, approached the passage
with the customary silence of their guarded habits.
[1]
The beauties of Lake George are well known to every American tourist. In the
height of the mountains which surround it, and in artificial accessories, it is
inferior to the finest of the Swiss and Italian lakes, while in outline and
purity of water it is fully their equal; and in the number and disposition of
its isles and islets much superior to them all together. There are said to be
some hundreds of islands in a sheet of water less than thirty miles long. The
narrows, which connect what may be called, in truth, two lakes, are crowded
with islands to such a degree as to leave passages between them frequently of
only a few feet in width. The lake itself varies in breadth from one to three
miles.
Chingachgook laid aside his paddle; while Uncas and the scout urged the light
vessel through crooked and intricate channels, where every foot that they
advanced exposed them to the danger of some sudden rising on their progress.
The eyes of the Sagamore moved warily from islet to islet, and copse to copse,
as the canoe proceeded; and, when a clearer sheet of water permitted, his keen
vision was bent along the bald rocks and impending forests that frowned upon
the narrow strait.
Heyward, who was a doubly interested spectator, as well from the beauties of
the place as from the apprehension natural to his situation, was just believing
that he had permitted the latter to be excited without sufficient reason, when
the paddle ceased moving, in obedience to a signal from Chingachgook.
“Hugh!” exclaimed Uncas, nearly at the moment that the light tap
his father had made on the side of the canoe notified them of the vicinity of
danger.
“What now?” asked the scout; “the lake is as smooth as if the
winds had never blown, and I can see along its sheet for miles; there is not so
much as the black head of a loon dotting the water.”
The Indian gravely raised his paddle, and pointed in the direction in which his
own steady look was riveted. Duncan’s eyes followed the motion. A few
rods in their front lay another of the wooded islets, but it appeared as calm
and peaceful as if its solitude had never been disturbed by the foot of man.
“I see nothing,” he said, “but land and water; and a lovely
scene it is.”
“Hist!” interrupted the scout. “Ay, Sagamore, there is always
a reason for what you do. ’Tis but a shade, and yet it is not natural.
You see the mist, major, that is rising above the island; you can’t call
it a fog, for it is more like a streak of thin cloud—”
“It is vapor from the water.”
“That a child could tell. But what is the edging of blacker smoke that
hangs along its lower side, and which you may trace down into the thicket of
hazel? ’Tis from a fire; but one that, in my judgment, has been suffered
to burn low.”
“Let us, then, push for the place, and relieve our doubts,” said
the impatient Duncan; “the party must be small that can lie on such a bit
of land.”
“If you judge of Indian cunning by the rules you find in books, or by
white sagacity, they will lead you astray, if not to your death,”
returned Hawkeye, examining the signs of the place with that acuteness which
distinguished him. “If I may be permitted to speak in this matter, it
will be to say, that we have but two things to choose between: the one is, to
return, and give up all thoughts of following the Hurons—”
“Never!” exclaimed Heyward, in a voice far too loud for their
circumstances.
“Well, well,” continued Hawkeye, making a hasty sign to repress his
impatience; “I am much of your mind myself; though I thought it becoming
my experience to tell the whole. We must, then, make a push, and if the Indians
or Frenchers are in the narrows, run the gauntlet through these toppling
mountains. Is there reason in my words, Sagamore?”
The Indian made no other answer than by dropping his paddle into the water, and
urging forward the canoe. As he held the office of directing its course, his
resolution was sufficiently indicated by the movement. The whole party now
plied their paddles vigorously, and in a very few moments they had reached a
point whence they might command an entire view of the northern shore of the
island, the side that had hitherto been concealed.
“There they are, by all the truth of signs,” whispered the scout,
“two canoes and a smoke. The knaves haven’t yet got their eyes out
of the mist, or we should hear the accursed whoop. Together, friends! we are
leaving them, and are already nearly out of whistle of a bullet.”
The well-known crack of a rifle, whose ball came skipping along the placid
surface of the strait, and a shrill yell from the island, interrupted his
speech, and announced that their passage was discovered. In another instant
several savages were seen rushing into canoes, which were soon dancing over the
water in pursuit. These fearful precursors of a coming struggle produced no
change in the countenances and movements of his three guides, so far as Duncan
could discover, except that the strokes of their paddles were longer and more
in unison, and caused the little bark to spring forward like a creature
possessing life and volition.
“Hold them there, Sagamore,” said Hawkeye, looking coolly backward
over this left shoulder, while he still plied his paddle; “keep them just
there. Them Hurons have never a piece in their nation that will execute at this
distance; but ‘killdeer’ has a barrel on which a man may
calculate.”
The scout having ascertained that the Mohicans were sufficient of themselves to
maintain the requisite distance, deliberately laid aside his paddle, and raised
the fatal rifle. Three several times he brought the piece to his shoulder, and
when his companions were expecting its report, he as often lowered it to
request the Indians would permit their enemies to approach a little nigher. At
length his accurate and fastidious eye seemed satisfied, and, throwing out his
left arm on the barrel, he was slowly elevating the muzzle, when an exclamation
from Uncas, who sat in the bow, once more caused him to suspend the shot.
“What, now, lad?” demanded Hawkeye; “you save a Huron from
the death-shriek by that word; have you reason for what you do?”
Uncas pointed toward a rocky shore a little in their front, whence another war
canoe was darting directly across their course. It was too obvious now that
their situation was imminently perilous to need the aid of language to confirm
it. The scout laid aside his rifle, and resumed the paddle, while Chingachgook
inclined the bows of the canoe a little toward the western shore, in order to
increase the distance between them and this new enemy. In the meantime they
were reminded of the presence of those who pressed upon their rear, by wild and
exulting shouts. The stirring scene awakened even Munro from his apathy.
“Let us make for the rocks on the main,” he said, with the mien of
a tired soldier, “and give battle to the savages. God forbid that I, or
those attached to me and mine, should ever trust again to the faith of any
servant of the Louis’s!”
“He who wishes to prosper in Indian warfare,” returned the scout,
“must not be too proud to learn from the wit of a native. Lay her more
along the land, Sagamore; we are doubling on the varlets, and perhaps they may
try to strike our trail on the long calculation.”
Hawkeye was not mistaken; for when the Hurons found their course was likely to
throw them behind their chase they rendered it less direct, until, by gradually
bearing more and more obliquely, the two canoes were, ere long, gliding on
parallel lines, within two hundred yards of each other. It now became entirely
a trial of speed. So rapid was the progress of the light vessels, that the lake
curled in their front, in miniature waves, and their motion became undulating
by its own velocity. It was, perhaps, owing to this circumstance, in addition
to the necessity of keeping every hand employed at the paddles, that the Hurons
had not immediate recourse to their firearms. The exertions of the fugitives
were too severe to continue long, and the pursuers had the advantage of
numbers. Duncan observed with uneasiness, that the scout began to look