The Last of the Mohicans, Volume 2 by James Fenimore Cooper

“Huron, depart.”

“As he came, just Tamenund,” demanded the wily Magua; “or with hands filled with the faith of the Delawares? The wigwam of le Renard Subtil is empty. Make him strong with his own.”

The aged man mused with himself for a time, and then bending his head towards one of his venerable companions, he asked–

“Are my ears open?”

“It is true.”

“Is this Mingo a chief?”

“The first in his nation.”

“Girl, what wouldst thou! A great warrior takes thee to wife. Go–thy race will not end.”

“Better, a thousand times, it should,” exclaimed the horror-struck Cora, “than meet with such a degradation!”

“Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam.”

“She speaks with the tongue of her people,” returned Magua, regarding his victim with a look of bitter irony. “She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a bright look. Let Tamenund speak the words?”

“Take you the wampum, and our love.”

“Nothing hence, but what Magua brought hither.”

“Then depart with thine own. The Great Manitto forbids that a Delaware should be unjust.”

Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by the arm; the Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if conscious that remonstrance would be useless, prepared to submit to her fate without resistance.

“Hold, hold!” cried Duncan, springing forward; “Huron, have mercy! Her ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy people were ever yet known to be.”

“Magua is a red-skin; he wants not the beads of the pale-faces.”

“Gold, silver, powder, lead–all that a warrior needs, shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest chief.”

“Le Subtil is very strong,” cried Magua, violently shaking the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; “he has his revenge!”

“Mighty Ruler of Providence!” exclaimed Heyward, clasping his hands together in agony, “can this be suffered! To you, just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy.”

“The words of the Delaware are said,” returned the sage, closing his eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion. “Men speak not twice.”

“That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what has once been spoken, is wise and reasonable,” said Hawk-eye, motioning to Duncan to be silent; “but it is also prudent in every warrior to consider well before he strikes his tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, I love you not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much favour at my hands. It is fair to conclude, that if this war does not soon end, many more of your warriors will meet me in the woods. Put it to your judgment, then, whether you would prefer taking such a prisoner as that lady into your encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands.”

“Will the ‘long rifle’ give his life for the woman?” demanded Magua, hesitatingly; for he had already made a motion towards quitting the place with his victim.

“No, no; I have not said so much as that,” returned Hawk-eye, drawing back, with suitable discretion, when he noted the eagerness with which Magua listened to his proposal. “It would be an unequal exchange, to give a warrior, in the prime of his age and usefulness, for the best woman on the frontiers. I might consent to go into winter quarters, now–at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn–on condition you will release the maiden.”

Magua shook his head in cold disdain, and made an impatient sign for the crowd to open.

“Well, then,” added the scout, with the musing air of a man who had not half made up his mind, “I will throw ‘kill-deer’ into the bargain. Take the word of an experienced hunter, the piece has not its equal atween the provinces.”

Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to disperse the crowd.

“Perhaps,” added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness, exactly in proportion as the other manifested an indifference to the exchange, “if I should condition to teach your young men the real virtue of the we’pon, it would smooth the little differences in our judgments.”

Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered in an impenetrable belt around him, in hopes he would listen to the amicable proposal, to open his path, threatening, by the glance of his eye, another appeal to the infallible justice of their “prophet.”

“What is ordered, must sooner or later arrive,” continued Hawk-eye, turning with a sad and humbled look to Uncas. “The varlet knows his advantage, and will keep it! God bless you, boy; you have found friends among your natural kin, and I hope they will prove as true as some you have met, who had no Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it is therefore fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl! After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to master my scalp, so a day or two will make no great difference in the everlasting reckoning of time. God bless you,” added the rugged woodsman, bending his head aside, with quivering muscles, and then instantly changing its direction again, with a wistful look towards the youth; “I loved both you and your father, Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a colour, and our gifts are somewhat different. Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him in my greatest trouble; and, as for you, think of me sometimes, when on a lucky trail; and depend on it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, there is a path in the other world, by which honest men may come together, again. You’ll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take it, and keep it for my sake; and harkee, lad, as your natural gifts dont deny you the use of vengeance, use it a little freely on the Mingoes; it may unburthen your grief at my loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept your offer; release the lady. I am your prisoner.”

A suppressed, but still distinct murmur of approbation, ran through the crowd at this generous proposition; even the fiercest among the Delaware warriors manifesting pleasure at the manliness of the intended sacrifice. Magua paused, and for an anxious moment, it might be said, he doubted; then casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which ferocity and admiration were strangely mingled, his purpose became fixed for ever.

He intimated his contempt of the offer, with a backward motion of his head, and said, in a steady and settled voice–

“Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind. Come,” he added, laying his hand too familiarly on the shoulder of his captive, to urge her onward; “a Huron warrior is no tattler; we will go.”

The maiden drew back in lofty, womanly reserve, and her dark eye kindled, while the rich blood shot, like the passing brightness of the sun, into her very temples, at the indignity.

“I am your prisoner, and at a fitting time shall be ready to follow, even to my death. But violence is unnecessary,” she coldly said; and immediately turning to Hawk-eye, added, “generous hunter! from my soul I thank you. Your offer is vain, neither could it be accepted; but still you may serve me, even more than in your own noble intention. Look at that drooping, humbled child! Abandon her not until you leave her in the habitations of civilized men. I will not say,” wringing the hard hand of the scout, “that her father will reward you–for such as you are above the rewards of men–but he will thank you, and bless you. And, believe me, the blessing of a just and aged man, has virtue in the sight of Heaven. Would to God, I could hear one from his lips at this awful moment!” Her voice became choked, and for an instant she was silent then advancing a step nigher to Duncan, who was supporting her unconscious sister, she continued in more subdued tones, but in which her feelings, and the habits of her sex, maintained a fearful struggle–“I need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess. You love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults, though she had them. She is as kind, as gentle, as sweet, as good, as mortal may be. There is not a blemish in mind or person, at which the proudest of you all would sicken. She is fair–Oh! how surpassingly fair!” laying her own beautiful; but less brilliant hand, in melancholy affection, on the alabaster forehead of Alice, and parting the golden hair which clustered about her brows; “and yet her soul is as pure and spotless as her skin! I could say much–more, perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare both you and myself–” Her voice became inaudible, and her face was bent over the form of her sister. After a long and burning kiss, she arose, and with features of the hue of death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she turned away, and added, to the savage, with all her former elevation of manner–“Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I will follow.”

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