by James Fenimore Cooper
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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 towards 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 centre 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 gazed in admiration, until the object fronted the light, 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 ready 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 may take revenge?"
"Let the Delaware die!" exclaimed Magua, in a voice of thunder.
Another long 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."
