The Last of the Mohicans. Джеймс Фенимор Купер

before the dying embers, with his face resting on his hands, in a manner which showed how deeply he brooded on the unaccountable interruption which had broken up their evening devotions.

      Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw a dim light through the narrow vista of their new apartment. Placing it in a favourable position, he joined the females, who now found themselves alone with him for the first time since they had left the friendly ramparts of Fort Edward.

      ‘Leave us not, Duncan,’ said Alice; ‘we cannot sleep in such a place as this, with that horrid cry still ringing in our ears!’

      ‘First let us examine into the security of your fortress,’ he answered, ‘and then we will speak of rest.’

      He approached the farther end of the cavern, to an outlet, which, like the others, was concealed by blankets, and removing the thick screen, breathed the fresh and reviving air from the cataract. One arm of the river flowed through a deep, narrow ravine, which its current had worn in the soft rock directly beneath his feet, forming an effectual defence, as he believed, against any danger from that quarter; the water, a few rods above them plunging, glancing, and sweeping along, in its most violent and broken manner.

      ‘Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this side,’ he continued, pointing down the perpendicular declivity into the dark current, before he dropped the blanket; ‘and as you know that good men and true are on guard in front, I see no reason why the advice of our honest host should be disregarded. I am certain Cora will join me in saying that sleep is necessary to you both.’

      ‘Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion, though she cannot put it into practice,’ returned the elder sister, who had placed herself by the side of Alice, on a couch of sassafras; ‘there would be other causes to chase away sleep, though we had been spared the shock of this mysterious noise. Ask yourself, Heyward, can daughters forget the anxiety a father must endure, whose children lodge, he knows not where or how, in such a wilderness, and in the midst of so many perils?’

      ‘He is a soldier and knows how to estimate the chances of the woods.’

      ‘He is a father, and cannot deny his nature.’

      ‘How kind has he ever been to all my follies! how tender and indulgent to all my wishes!’ sobbed Alice. ‘We have been selfish, sister, in urging our visit at such hazard!’

      ‘I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a moment of much embarrassment, but I would have proved to him, that however others might neglect him in his strait his children at least were faithful!’

      ‘When he heard of your arrival at Edward,’ said Heyward, kindly, ‘there was a powerful struggle in his bosom between fear and love; though the latter, heightened, if possible, by so long a separation, quickly prevailed. “It is the spirit of my noble-minded Cora that leads them, Duncan,” he said, “and I will not baulk it. I only wish that he who holds the honour of our royal master in his guardianship, would show but half her firmness!”’

      ‘And did he not speak of me, Heyward?’ demanded Alice, with jealous affection. ‘Surely, he forgot not altogether his little Elsie?’

      ‘That were impossible,’ returned the young man; ‘he called you by a thousand endearing epithets, that I may not presume to use, but to the justice of which I can warmly testify. Once, indeed, he said—’

      Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riveted on those of Alice, who had turned towards him with the eagerness of filial affection, to catch his words, the same strong, horrid cry, as before, filled the air, and rendered him mute. A long, breathless silence succeeded, during which each looked at the others in fearful expectation of hearing the sound repeated. At length the blanket was slowly raised, and the scout stood in the aperture, with a countenance whose firmness evidently began to give way before a mystery that seemed to threaten some danger, against which all his cunning and experience might prove of no avail.

¹ In vulgar parlance the condiments of a repast are called by the American ‘a relish,’ substituting the thing for its effect. These provincial terms are frequently put into the mouths of the speakers, according to their several conditions in life. Most of them are of local use, and others quite peculiar to the particular class of men to which the character belongs. In the present instance, the scout uses the word with immediate reference to the ‘salt,’ with which his own party was so fortunate as to be provided.

² Glenn’s Falls are on the Hudson, some forty or fifty miles above the head of tide, or the place where that river becomes navigable for sloops. The description of this picturesque and remarkable little cataract, as given by the scout, is sufficiently correct, though the application of the water to the uses of civilised life has materially injured its beauties. The rocky island and the two caverns are well known to every traveller since the former sustains a pier of a bridge which is now thrown across the river, immediately above the fall. In explanation of the taste of Hawkeye, it should be remembered that men always prize that most which is least enjoyed. Thus, in a new country, the woods and other objects, which in an old country would be maintained at great cost, are got rid of, simply with a view of ‘improving,’ as it is called.

³ See Appendix, Note E.

       CHAPTER 7

      They do not sleep.

      On yonder cliffs, a grisly band,

      I see them sit.

      —Gray.

      ‘‘Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for our good, to lie hid any longer,’ said Hawkeye, ‘when such sounds are raised in the forest! The gentle ones may keep close, but the Mohicans and I will watch upon the rock, where I suppose a major of the 60th would wish to keep us company.’

      ‘Is then our danger so pressing?’ asked Cora.

      ‘He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man’s information, alone knows our danger. I should think myself wicked, unto rebellion against His will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air! Even the weak soul who passes his days in singing is stirred by the cry, and, as he says, is “ready to go forth to the battle.” If ‘twere only a battle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily managed; but I have heard that when such shrieks are atween heaven and ‘arth it betokens another sort of warfare!’

      ‘If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have but little occasion to be alarmed,’ continued the undisturbed Cora; ‘are you certain that our enemies have not invented some new and ingenious method to strike with terror, that their conquest may become more easy?’

      ‘Lady,’ returned the scout, solemnly, ‘I have listened to all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will listen whose life and death depend on the quickness of his ears. There is no whine of the panther, no whistle of the cat-bird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingoes, that can cheat me! I have heard the forest moan like mortal men in their affliction; often, and again, have I listened to the wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees; and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air, like the snapping of blazing brush, as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames; but never have I thought that I heard more than the pleasure of Him who sported with the things of His hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white man without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We, therefore, believe it a sign for our good.’

      ‘It is extraordinary!’ said Heyward, taking his pistols from the place where he had laid them on entering; ‘be it a sign of peace or a signal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I follow.’

      On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party instantly