Adventure Books
17 - The Last Of The Mohicans - James Cooper
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- Duration:
- 40m
- Broadcast on:
- 02 Aug 2024
- Audio Format:
- mp3
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Chapter 17 Quote, "Weave the woof, thread is spun, the web is wove, the work is done." Unquote, by Gray. The hostile armies which lay in the wilds of the hurricane, past the night of the 9th of August 1757. Much in the manner they would had they encountered on the fairest field of Europe. While the conquered were still, sullen and dejected, the victors triumphed. But there are limits alike to grief and joy. And long before the watches of the morning came, the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken by a gay call from some exalting young Frenchman of the advanced pickets, or a menacing challenge from the fort, which sternly forbade the approach of any hostile footsteps before the stipulated moment. Even these occasional threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour which precedes the day, at which period a listener might have sought in vain any evidence of the presence of those armed powers that then slumbered on the shores of the Holy Late. It was during these moments of deep silence that the canvas which concealed the entrance to a spacious marquee in the French encampment was shoved aside, and a man issued from beneath a drapery into the open air. He was enveloped in a cloak which might have been intended as a protection from the chilling dams of the woods, but which served equally well as a mantle to conceal his person. He was permitted to pass the Grenadier who watched over the slumbers of the French commander without interruption the man making the usual salute which betokens military deference, as the other pass swiftly threw the little city of tents in the direction of William Henry. Whenever this unknown individual encountered one of the numberless sentinels who crossed his path, his answer was prompt, and, as it appeared satisfactory, for he was uniformly allowed to proceed without further interrogation. With the exception of such repeated but brief interruptions, he had moved silently from the center of the camp to its most advanced outpost. When he drew nigh the soldier who held his watch nearest to the works of the enemy, as he approached, he was received with the usual challenge. "Cave vivé! Frasé!" was the reply. Said the other, drawing so nigh as to be heard in a loud whisper. "Sespien!" returned the sentinel, throwing his musket from the charge to his shoulder. "For promenés bien mantit, mon sur!" "This is sere d'etre, virgillant mon en font!" the other observed, dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking the soldier close in the face as he passed him, still continuing his way toward the British fortification. The man started, his arms rattled heavily as he threw them forward in the lowest and most respectful salute, and when he had again recovered his peace, he turned to walk his post, muttering between his teeth. The officer proceeded without affecting to hear the words which escaped the sentinel in his surprise, nor did he again pause until he had reached the low strand and in a somewhat dangerous vicinity to the western water bastion of the fort. The light of an obscure moon was just sufficient to render objects, though dim, perceptible in their outlines. He therefore took the precaution to place himself against the trunk of a tree, where he leaned for many minutes, and seemed to contemplate the dark and silent mounds of the English works in profound attention. His gaze at the ramparts was not that of a curious or idle spectator, but his looks wandered from point to point, denoting his knowledge of military usages, and betraying that his search was not unaccompanied by distress. At length he appeared satisfied, and having cast his eyes impatiently upward toward the summit of the eastern mountain. As if anticipating the approach of the morning he was in the act of turning on his footsteps, when a light sound on the nearest angle the bastion caught his ear and induced him to remain. Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the rampart, where it stood, apparently contemplating in its turn the distant tense of the French encampment. Its head was then turned toward the east, as though equally anxious for the appearance of light, when the form leaned against the mound, and seemed to gaze upon the glassy expanse of the waters, which, like a submarine firmament, littered with its thousand mimic stars. The melancholy air, the hour, together with the vast frame of the man who thus leaned, musing against the English ramparts, left no doubt as to his person in the mind of the observant spectator. Delicacy, no less than prudence, now urged him to retire, and he had moved cautiously round the body of the tree for that purpose, when another sound drew his attention, and once more arrested his footsteps. It was a low and almost inaudible movement of the water, and was seceded by a grating of pebbles one against the other. In a moment he saw a dark form rise, as it were, out of the lake, and still without further noise to the land, within a few feet of the place where he himself stood. A rifle next slowly rose between his eyes and the watery mirror, but before it could be discharged, his own hand was on the lock. "Who?" exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous aim was so singularly and unexpectedly interrupted. Without making any reply, the French officer laid his hand on the shoulder of the Indian, and led him in profound silence to a distance from the spot, where their subsequent dialogue might have proved dangerous, and where it seemed that one of them, at least, sought a victim. Then throwing open his cloak so as to expose his uniform and the cross of St. Louis, which was suspended at his breast, Montcalm sternly demanded. "What means this? Those my son not know that the hatchet is buried between the English and his Canadian father? "What can the urads do?" returned the savage, speaking also, though imperfectly, in the French language. "That a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces make friends!" "Huh, the renowned Septile! Me thinks this is an excessive zeal for a friend, who was so late an enemy. How many sons have set since they renowned struck the warpost of the English?" "Where is that son?" demanded the sullen savage. "Behind the hill, and it is dark and cold, but when he comes again it will be bright and warm." "Liz Septile is the son of his tribe. There have been clouds and many mountains between him and his nation. But now he shines, and it is a clear sky." "Thereinard has power up with his people I well know," said Montcalm. "For yesterday he hunted for their scalps, and today they hear him at the councilfire." "Maguay is a great chief." "Let him prove it by teaching his nation how to conduct themselves toward our new friends." "Why did the chief of the canada bring this young man into the woods and find his cannon at the earth and house?" demanded the subtle Indian. "To subdue it, my master owns the land, and your father was ordered to drive off these English squatters. They have consented to go, and now he calls them enemies no longer." "Tis well, Magua took the hatchet to color it with blood. It is now bright. When it is red, it shall be buried." "But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of France. The enemies of the great king across the salt lake are his enemies. His friends, the friends of your runs." "Friends?" repeated the Indian in scorn. "Let his father give Magua a hand." Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the warlike tribes he had gathered, was to be maintained by concession rather than by power, complied reluctantly with the others' requests. The savage placed the fingers of the French commander on a deep scar in his bosom, and then exultantly demanded, "Does my father know that?" "What warrior does not? This where a leaden bullet has cut." And this continued the Indian, who had turned his naked back to the other, his body being without its usual calico mantle. "This, my son, has been sadly injured here. Who has done this?" Magua slept hard in the English wigwams, and the sticks have left their mark, returned the savage with a hollow laugh, which did not conceal the fierce temper which nearly choked him, then recollecting himself with the sullen and native dignity he added. "Go teach your young man it is peace." "They are not until knows how to speak, to a here on warrior." Without dating to bestow further words, or to wait for any answer, the savage cast his rifle into the hollow of his arm, and moved silently through the encampment toward the woods where his own tribe was known to lie. Every few yards as he proceeded, he was challenged by the sentinels, but he stalked suddenly onward, utterly disregarding the summons of the soldiers, who only spared his life because they knew the air and tread, no less than the obstinate daring of an Indian, want calm lingered long and melancholy on the stand where he had been left by his companion, brooding deeply on the temper which his ungovernable ally had just discovered. Already had his fair fame been tarnished by one word seen, and in circumstances fearfully resembling those under which he now found himself. As he mused, he became keenly sensible the deep responsibility they assumed, who disregarded the means to attain an end, and of all the danger of setting in motion, an engine which exceeds human power to control, then shaking off a train of reflection, which he accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph. He retraced his steps toward his tent, giving the order as he passed to make the signal that should arouse the army from its slumbers. The first tap of the French drums was echoed from the bosom of the fort, and presently the valley was filled with the strains of martial music, rising long, thrilling, and lively above the rattling accompaniment. The horns of the victors sounded merry and cheerful flourishes until the last laggard of the camp was at his post, but the instant the British fice had blown their shrill signal they became mute. In the meantime the day had dawned, and when the line of the French army was ready to receive its general, the rays of a brilliant sun were glancing along the glittering array. Then that success which was already so well known was officially announced. The favored band who were selected to guard the gates of the fort were detailed and defiled before their chief. The signal of their approach was given, and all the usual preparations for a change of masters were ordered and executed, directly under the guns of the contested works. A very different scene presented itself within the lines of the Anglo-American army. As soon as the warning signal was given, it exhibited all the signs of a hurried and forced departure. The sullen soldiers shouldered their empty tubes and fell into their places, like men whose blood had been heated by the past contest, and who only desired the opportunity to revenge an indignity which was still wounding to their pride, concealed, as it was, under the observances of military etiquette. Woman and children ran from place to place, some bearing the scanty remnants of their baggage, and others searching in the ranks for those countments they looked up to for protection. Monroe appeared among his silent troops, firm but dejected. It was evident that the unexpected blow had struck deep into his heart, though he struggled to sustain his misfortune with the port of a man. Duncan was touched at the quiet and impressive exhibition of his grief. He had discharged his own duty, and he now pressed to the side of the old man to know in what particular he might serve him. "My daughters!" was the brief but expressive reply. "Good heavens! Are not arrangements already made for their convenience?" "Today I am only a soldier, Major Hayward," said the veteran. "All that you see here? Claim I like to be my children." Duncan had heard enough. Without losing one of those moments which had now become so precious, he flew toward the quarters of Monroe in quest of the sisters. He found them on the threshold of the low edifice, already prepared to depart, and surrounded by a clamorous and weeping assemblage of their own sex, who had gathered about the place with a sort of instinctive consciousness that it was the point most likely to be protected. Though the cheeks of Coro were pale and her countenance anxious, she had lost none of her firmness, but the eyes of Alice were inflamed, and betrayed how long and bitterly she had wept. They both, however, received the young man with undisguised pleasure, the former, for a novelty, being the first to speak. "The fort is lost," she said with a melancholy smile. "They were a good name, I trust, remains." "Diz brighter than ever, but, dearest Miss Monroe, it is time to think less of others and to make some provision for yourself." Military usage? Pride? That pride, on which you so much value yourself, demands that your father and I should for a little while continue with the troops. "Then where to seek a proper protector for you against the confusion and chances of such a scene?" "Not as necessary," returned Coro. "Who would dare to injure or insult the daughter of such a father at a time like this?" "I would not leave you alone," continued the youth, looking about him in a hurried manner, for the command of the best regiment in the pay of the king. "Remember, our Alice is not gifted with all your firmness, and God only knows the terror she might endure." "You may be right," Coro replied, smiling again, but far more sadly than before. "Listen, chances already set us a friend, when he is most needed." Duncan did listen, and on the instant comprehended her meaning. The low and serious sounds of the sacred music, so well known to the eastern provinces caught his ear, and instantly drew him to an apartment in an adjacent building, which had already been deserted by its customary tenants. There he found David pouring out his pious feelings through the only medium in which he ever indulged. Duncan waited until by the cessation of the movement of the hand, he believed the strain was ended, when by touching his shoulder he drew the attention of the other to himself, and in a few words explained his wishes. "Even so," replied the single-minded disciple of the king of Israel when the young man had ended, "I have found much that is cumbly and melodious in the maidens, and it is fitting that we who have consorted in so much peril should abide together in peace. I will attend them, when I have completed my morning praise, to which nothing is now wanting but the doxology. Will thou bared apart, friend? The meter is common, and the tune southwell, then extending the little volume and giving the pitch of the air anew with considerate attention. David, then extending the little volume and giving the pitch of the air anew with considerate attention, David recommenced and finished his strains, with a fixateness of manner that is not easy to interrupt. Hayward was feigned to wait until the verse was ended, when seeing David relieving himself from the spectacles and replacing the bulk he continued. "It will be your duty to see that none dare approach the ladies with any rude intention, or to offer insult or to taunt at the misfortune of their brave father. In this task you will be seconded by the domestics of their household. Even so, it is possible that the Indians and stragglers of the enemy may intrude, in which case you will remind them of the terms of the capitulation, and threaten to report their conduct to Montcolm. A word will suffice." "If not, I have that here which shall," returned David, exhibiting his book with an air in which meekness and confidence were singularly blended. "Here are words which uttered or rather thundered with proper emphasis, and in major time, shall quiet the most unruly temper. Why rage the heathen furiously?" "Enough," said Hayward, interrupting the burst of his musical invocation, "we understand each other. It is time that we should now assume our respective duties." Camout cheerfully ascended, and together they sought the females. Cora received her new and somewhat extraordinary protector courteously, at least, and even the pallid features of Alice lighted again with some of their native arch-ness, as she thanked Hayward for his care. Duncan took occasion to assure them he had done the best that circumstances permitted, and, as he believed, quite enough for the security of their feelings. Of danger there was none. He then spoke gladly of his intention to rejoin them the moment he had led the advance a few miles toward the Hudson, and immediately took his leave. By this time, the signal for departure had been given, and the head of the English column was in motion. The sister started at the sound and glancing their eyes around. They saw the white uniforms of the French Grenadiers, who had already taken possession of the gates of the fort. At that moment an enormous cloud seemed to pass suddenly above their heads, and looking upward, they discovered they stood beneath the wide folds of the standard of France. "Let us go!" said Cora. "This is no longer a fit place for the children of an English officer." Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they left the parade, accompanied by the moving throng that surrounded them. As they passed the gates, the French officers who had learned their rank bowed off and in low, for bearing however to intrude those attentions, which they saw with peculiar tact, might not be agreeable. As every vehicle and each beast of burden was occupied by the sick and wounded, Cora had decided to endure the fatigues of a foot-march rather than interfere with their comforts. Indeed, many a maimed and feeble soldier was compelled to drag his exhausted limbs in the rear of the columns, for the one of the necessary means of conveyance in that wilderness. Behold, however it was in motion, the weak and wounded groaning and in suffering, their comrades silent and sullen, and the woman and children in terror, they knew not of what. As the confused and timid throng left the protecting mounds of the fort and issued on the open plane, the whole scene was at once presented to their eyes. At a little distance on the right and somewhat in the rear, the French army stood to their arms, one calm having collected his party so soon as his guard had possession of the works. They were attentive but silent observers of the proceedings of the vanquished, failing in none of the stipulated military honors and offering no taunt or insult in their success through the less fortunate foes. Living masses of the English to the amount in the whole of near three thousand were moving slowly across the plane, toward the common center, and gradually approached each other as they converged to the point of their march. A vista cut through the lofty trees where the road to the Hudson entered the forest. Along the sweeping borders of the woods hung a dark cloud of savages, eyeing the passage of their enemies and hovering at a distance, like vultures who were only kept from swooping on their prey by the presence and restraint of a superior army. A few had straggled among the conquered columns where they stalked in sullen discontent, attentive though as yet, passive observers of the moving multitude. The advance, with Hayward at its head, had already reached the defile and was slowly disappearing when the attention of Cora was drawn to a collection of stragglers by the sounds of contention. A truant provincial was paying the forfeit of his disobedience by being plundered of those very effects which had caused him to desert his place in the ranks. The man was of powerful frame and too avaricious to part with his goods without a struggle. Individuals from either party interfered, the one side to prevent, and the other to aid in the robbery. Voices grew loud and angry, and a hundred savages appeared, as it were, by magic, where a dozen only had been seen a minute before. It was then that Cora saw the form of magua, bliding among his countrymen, and speaking with his fatal and artful eloquence. The mass of woman and children stopped, and hovered together like alarmed and fluttering birds. But the cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and the different bodies again moved slowly onward. The savages now fell back, and seemed content to let their enemies advance, without further molestation. But as the female crowd approached them, the gaudy collars of a shawl attracted the eyes of a wild and untutored Huron. He advanced to seize it without the least hesitation. The woman, more in terror than through love of the ornament, wrapped her child in the coveted article and folded both more closely to her bosom. Cora was in the act of speaking, with an intent to advise the woman to abandon the trifle, when the savage relinquished his hold on the shawl, and tore the screaming infant from her arms. Abandoning everything to the greedy grasp of those around her, the mother darted with the distraction of her mean to reclaim her child. The Indian smiled grimly and extended one hand in sign of a willingness to exchange, while with the other he flourished the babe over his head, holding it by the feet, as if to enhance the value of the ransom. "Here! Here! There! Oh! Itty! Everything!" exclaimed the breathless woman, tearing the lighter articles of dress from her person, with ill-directed and trembling fingers. "Take! Oh! But give me my babe!" The savage spurned the worthless rags, and perceiving that the shawl had already become a prize to another, his bantering but sullen smile, changing to a gleam of ferocity, he dashed the head of the infant against a rock and cast its quivering remains to her very feet. For an instant, the mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking wildly down at the unseemly object, which had so lately nestled in her bosom and smiled in her face. And then, she raised her eyes and countenance toward heaven, as if calling on God to curse the perpetrator of the foul deed. She was spared the sin of such a prayer, for maddened at his disappointment, and excited at the sight of blood, the Huron mercifully drove his tomahawk into her own brain. The mother sank under the blow and fell, grasping at her child in death, with the same engrossing love that had caused her to cherish it when living. At that dangerous moment, Mark replaced his hands to his mouth and raised the fatal and appalling hoop. The scattered Indians started at the well-known cry, as coarser bound at the signal to quit the goal. And directly there arose such a yell along the plane and through the arches of the wood as seldom burst from human lips before. They who heard it listened with a curdling horror at the heart, little inferior to that dread which may be expected to attend the blast of the final summons. More than two thousand raving savages broke from the force that the signal and threw themselves across the fatal plane with instinctive alacrity. We shall not dwell on the revolting horrors that succeeded. Death was everywhere, and in his most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance only seemed to inflame the murders, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the power of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a torrent, and as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them even kneeled to the earth and drank freely, exultingly, hellishly of the crimson tide. The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavoring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. The experiment in some measures succeeded, though far too many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands in the vain hope of appeasing the savages. In such a scene, none had leisure to note the fleeting moments. It might have been ten minutes. It seemed in age that the sisters had stood riveted to one spot, horror-stricken, and nearly hopeless. When the first blow was struck, their screaming companions had pressed upon them in a body, rendering flight impossible. And now, that fear of death had scattered most, if not all, from around them. They saw no avenue open but such as conducted to the tomahawks of their foes. On every side arose shrieks, groans, exhortations, and curses. At this moment, Alice caught a glimpse of the vast form of her father moving rapidly across the plain in the direction of the French army. He was, in truth, proceeding to Montcomme, fearless of any danger, to claim the tardy escort for which he had before conditioned. Fifty glittering axes and barbed spears were offered unheated at his life, but the savages respected his rank and calmness, even in their fury. The dangerous weapons were brushed aside by the still nervous arm of the veteran, or fell of themselves after menacing an act that would seem no one had courage to perform. Fortunately, the vindictive makkel was searching for his victim in the very band the veteran had just quit it. "Father, Father, we are here!" shrieked Alice as he passed at no great distance, without appearing to heed them. "Come to us, Father, or we die!" The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones that might have melded a heart of stone, but it was unanswered. Once indeed the old man appeared to catch the sound, for he paused and listened, but Alice had dropped senseless on the earth, and Korr had sunk at her side, hovering in untiring tenderness over her lifeless form. Monroe shook his head in disappointment and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his station. "Lady!" said Gamoot, who helpless and useless as he was, had not yet dreamed of deserting his trust. "It is the jubilee of the devils, and this is not a me place for Christians to tear in. Let us up and fly!" "Go!" said Korr, still gazing at her unconscious sister, "Save thyself! To me thou canst not be of further use!" David comprehended the unyielding character of a resolution by the single but expressive gesture that accompanied her words. He gazed for a moment at the dusky forms that were acting their hellish rights on every side of him, and his tall person grew more erect while his chest heaved, and every feature swelled and seemed to speak with the power of the feelings by which he was governed. "If the Jewish boy might tame the spirit of soul by the sound of his harp and the words of sacred song, it may not be amiss," he said, "to try the potency of music here." Then raising his voice to its highest tone, he poured out a strain so powerful as to be heard even amid the din of that bloody field. More than one savage rushed toward them, thinking to rifle the unprotected sisters of their attire and bear away their scalps, but when they found this strange and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused to listen. Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they passed on to other and less courageous victims, openly expressing their satisfaction at the firmness with which the white warrior sang his death song. Encouraged and deluded by his success, David exerted all his power to extend what he believed so wholly an influence. The unwanted sounds caught the ears of a distant savage, who flew raging from group to group like one who, scorning to touch the vulgar herd, hunted for some victim more worthy of his renown. It was Moiqua, who uttered a yell of pleasure when he beheld his ancient prisoners again at his mercy. "Come!" he said, laying his sewed hands on the dress of Korra. "The wig, Wama, your eye is still open. Is it not better than this place?" "Away!" cried Korra, veiling her eyes from his revolting aspect. The Indian laughed tauntingly as he held up his reeking hand and answered, "It is red, but it comes from white veins." "Monster, there is blood, oceans of blood upon my soul. Thy spirit has moved this scene." Moiqua is a great chief, returned the exulting savage. "Will the hair go to his tribe?" "Never! Strike if thou will, and complete thy revenge!" He hesitated a moment, and then catching the light and senseless form of Alice in his arms. The subtle Indian moved swiftly across the plane toward the woods. "Old!" shrieked Korra, falling wildly in on his footsteps. "Release the child, wretch! What is it you do?" But Moiqua was deaf to her voice, or rather he knew his power, and was determined to maintain it. "Stay, ladies! Stay!" called Gamoot after the unconscious Korra. "The holy charm is beginning to be felt, and soon shall thou see this horrid tumult still!" Perceiving that, in his turn, he was unheeded. The faithful David followed the distracted sister, raising his voice again in Sacred Song and sweeping the air to measure with his long arm, in diligent accompaniment. In this manner they traversed the plane through the flying and wounded of the dead. The fierce Huron was any time sufficient for himself, and the victim that he bore. Though Korra would have fallen more than once under the blows of her savage enemies, but for the extraordinary being who stalked in her rear, and who now appeared to the astonished natives, gifted with the protected spirit of madness. Moiqua, who knew how to avoid the more pressing dangers, and also to elude pursuit, entered the woods through a low ravine, where he quickly found the Narragansets, which the travelers had abandoned so shortly before, awaiting his appearance in custody of a savage as fierce and malign in expression as himself. Laying Alice on one of the horses, he made a sign to Korra to mount the other, not withstanding the horror excited by the presence of her captor. There was a present relief of escaping from the bloody scene enacting on the plane, to which Korra could not be altogether insensible. She took her seat, and held forth her arms for her sister, with an air of entreaty and love that even the Huron could not deny. Placing Alice then on the same animal with Korra, he seized the bridal, and commenced his route by plunging deeper into the forest. David, perceiving that he was left alone, utterly disregarded as a subject too worthless even to destroy, through his long limb across the saddle of the beast they had deserted, and made such progress in the pursuit as the difficulty of a path permitted. They soon began to ascend, but as the motion had a tendency to revive the dormant faculties of her sister, the attention of Korra was too much divided between the tenderest solicitude in her behalf, and in listening to the cries which were still too audible on the plane, to note the direction which they journeyed. When, however, they gained the flattened surface of the mountaintop, and approached the eastern precipice, she recognized the spot to which she had once before been led under the more friendly auspices of the scout. Here Mok was suffered them to dismount, and notwithstanding their own captivity, the curiosity which seems inseparable from horror induced them to gaze at the sickening sight below. The cruel work was still unchecked, on every side the captured were flying before the relentless persecutors. While the armed columns of the Christian kings stood a fast in an apathy which has never been explained, and which has left an immovable blot on the otherwise fair excursion of their leader. Nor was the sword of death stayed until cupidity got the mastery of revenge. Then, indeed, the shrieks of the wounded and the yells of their murders grew less frequent, until finally the cries of horror were lost to their ear, or were drowned in the loud, long, and piercing hoops of the triumphant selvages. End of chapter 17. How to Have Fun Anytime, Anywhere. Step 1. Go to Chumbokasino.com. Chumbokasino.com. Got it. Step 2. Collect your welcome bonus. Come to top a welcome bonus. Step 3. Play hundreds of casino-style games for free. That's a lot of games, all for free. Step 4. Unleash your excitement. Chumbokasino has been delivering thrills for over a decade, so claim your free welcome bonus now and live the Chumbolife. Visit Chumbokasino.com. 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