CHAPTER XVIII
"Why, anything: An honorable murderer, if you will; For naught I did in hate, but all in honor."
_Othello._
The bloody and inhuman scene rather incidentally mentioned thandescribed in the preceding chapter, is conspicuous in the pages ofcolonial history, by the merited title of "The Massacre of WilliamHenry." It so far deepened the stain which a previous and very similarevent had left upon the reputation of the French commander, that it wasnot entirely erased by his early and glorious death. It is now becomingobscured by time; and thousands, who know that Montcalm died like a heroon the plains of Abraham, have yet to learn how much he was deficient inthat moral courage without which no man can be truly great. Pages mightbe written to prove, from this illustrious example, the defects of humanexcellence; to show how easy it is for generous sentiments, highcourtesy, and chivalrous courage, to lose their influence beneath thechilling blight of selfishness, and to exhibit to the world a man whowas great in all the minor attributes of character, but who was foundwanting when it became necessary to prove how much principle is superiorto policy. But the task would exceed our prerogatives; and, as history,like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere ofimaginary brightness, it is probable that Louis de Saint Veran will beviewed by posterity only as the gallant defender of his country, whilehis cruel apathy on the shores of the Oswego and of the Horican will beforgotten. Deeply regretting this weakness on the part of a sister muse,we shall at once retire from her sacred precincts, within the properlimits of our own humble vocation.
The third day from the capture of the fort was drawing to a close, butthe business of the narrative must still detain the reader on the shoresof the "holy lake." When last seen, the environs of the works werefilled with violence and uproar. They were now possessed by stillnessand death. The blood-stained conquerors had departed; and their camp,which had so lately rung with the merry rejoicings of a victorious army,lay a silent and deserted city of huts. The fortress was a smoulderingruin; charred rafters, fragments of exploded artillery, and rentmason-work, covering its earthen mounds in confused disorder.
A frightful change had also occurred in the season. The sun had hid itswarmth behind an impenetrable mass of vapor, and hundreds of humanforms, which had blackened beneath the fierce heats of August, werestiffening in their deformity, before the blasts of a prematureNovember. The curling and spotless mists, which had been seen sailingabove the hills towards the north, were now returning in an interminabledusky sheet, that was urged along by the fury of a tempest. The crowdedmirror of the Horican was gone; and, in its place, the green and angrywaters lashed the shores, as if indignantly casting back its impuritiesto the polluted strand. Still the clear fountain retained a portion ofits charmed influence, but it reflected only the sombre gloom that fellfrom the impending heavens. That humid and congenial atmosphere whichcommonly adorned the view, veiling its harshness, and softening itsasperities, had disappeared, and the northern air poured across thewaste of water so harsh and unmingled, that nothing was left to beconjectured by the eye, or fashioned by the fancy.
The fiercer element had cropped the verdure of the plain, which lookedas though it were scathed by the consuming lightning. But, here andthere, a dark green tuft rose in the midst of the desolation; theearliest fruits of a soil that had been fattened with human blood. Thewhole landscape, which, seen by a favoring light, and in a genialtemperature, had been found so lovely, appeared now like some picturedallegory of life, in which objects were arrayed in their harshest buttruest colors, and without the relief of any shadowing.
The solitary and arid blades of grass arose from the passing gustsfearfully perceptible; the bold and rocky mountains were too distinct intheir barrenness, and the eye even sought relief, in vain, by attemptingto pierce the illimitable void of heaven, which was shut to its gaze bythe dusky sheet of ragged and driving vapor.
The wind blew unequally; sometimes sweeping heavily along the ground,seeming to whisper its moanings in the cold ears of the dead, thenrising in a shrill and mournful whistling, it entered the forest with arush that filled the air with the leaves and branches it scattered inits path. Amid the unnatural shower, a few hungry ravens struggled withthe gale; but no sooner was the green ocean of woods, which stretchedbeneath them, passed, than they gladly stopped, at random, to theirhideous banquet.
In short, it was the scene of wildness and desolation; and it appearedas if all who had profanely entered it had been stricken, at a blow, bythe relentless arm of death. But the prohibition had ceased; and for thefirst time since the perpetrators of those foul deeds which had assistedto disfigure the scene were gone, living human beings had now presumedto approach the place.
About an hour before the setting of the sun, on the day alreadymentioned, the forms of five men might have been seen issuing from thenarrow vista of trees, where the path to the Hudson entered the forest,and advancing in the direction of the ruined works. At first theirprogress was slow and guarded, as though they entered with reluctanceamid the horrors of the spot, or dreaded the renewal of its frightfulincidents. A light figure preceded the rest of the party, with thecaution and activity of a native; ascending every hillock toreconnoitre, and indicating, by gestures, to his companions, the routehe deemed it most prudent to pursue. Nor were those in the rear wantingin every caution and foresight known to forest warfare. One among them,he also was an Indian, moved a little on one flank, and watched themargin of the woods, with eyes long accustomed to read the smallest signof danger. The remaining three were white, though clad in vestmentsadapted, both in quality and color, to their present hazardouspursuit,--that of hanging on the skirts of a retiring army in thewilderness.
The effects produced by the appalling sights that constantly arose intheir path to the lake shore, were as different as the characters of therespective individuals who composed the party. The youth in front threwserious but furtive glances at the mangled victims, as he steppedlightly across the plain, afraid to exhibit his feelings, and yet tooinexperienced to quell entirely their sudden and powerful influence. Hisred associate, however, was superior to such a weakness. He passed thegroups of dead with a steadiness of purpose, and an eye so calm, thatnothing but long and inveterate practice could enable him to maintain.The sensations produced in the minds of even the white men weredifferent, though uniformly sorrowful. One, whose gray locks andfurrowed lineaments, blending with a martial air and tread, betrayed, inspite of the disguise of a woodsman's dress, a man long experienced inscenes of war, was not ashamed to groan aloud, whenever a spectacle ofmore than usual horror came under his view. The young man at his elbowshuddered, but seemed to suppress his feelings in tenderness to hiscompanion. Of them all, the straggler who brought up the rear appearedalone to betray his real thoughts, without fear of observation or dreadof consequences. He gazed at the most appalling sight with eyes andmuscles that knew not how to waver, but with execrations so bitter anddeep as to denote how much he denounced the crime of his enemies.
The reader will perceive at once, in these respective characters, theMohicans, and their white friend, the scout; together with Munro andHeyward. It was, in truth, the father in quest of his children, attendedby the youth who felt so deep a stake in their happiness, and thosebrave and trusty foresters, who had already proved their skill andfidelity through the trying scenes related.
When Uncas, who moved in front, had reached the centre of the plain, heraised a cry that drew his companions in a body to the spot. The youngwarrior had halted over a group of females who lay in a cluster, aconfused mass of dead. Notwithstanding the revolting horror of theexhibition, Munro and Heyward flew towards the festering heap,endeavoring, with a love that no unseemliness could extinguish, todiscover whether any vestiges of those they sought were to be seen amongthe tattered and many-colored garments. The father and lover foundinstant relief in the search; though each was condemned again toexperience the misery of an uncertainty that was hardly lessinsupportable t
han the most revolting truth. They were standing, silentand thoughtful, around the melancholy pile, when the scout approached.Eying the sad spectacle with an angry countenance, the sturdy woodsman,for the first time since his entering the plain, spoke intelligibly andaloud:--
"I have been on many a shocking field, and have followed a trail ofblood for many miles," he said, "but never have I found the hand of thedevil so plain as it is here to be seen! Revenge is an Indian feeling,and all who know me know that there is no cross in my veins; but thismuch will I say--here, in the face of heaven, and with the power of theLord so manifest in this howling wilderness,--that should theseFrenchers ever trust themselves again within the range of a raggedbullet, there is one rifle shall play its part, so long as flint willfire or powder burn! I leave the tomahawk and knife to such as have anatural gift to use them. What say you, Chingachgook," he added inDelaware; "shall the Hurons boast of this to their women when the deepsnows come?"
A gleam of resentment flashed across the dark lineaments of the Mohicanchief: he loosened his knife in its sheath; and then turning calmly fromthe sight, his countenance settled into a repose as deep as if he neverknew the instigation of passion.
"Montcalm! Montcalm!" continued the deeply resentful and lessself-restrained scout; "they say a time must come, when all the deedsdone in the flesh will be seen at a single look; and that by eyescleared from mortal infirmities. Woe betide the wretch who is born tobehold this plain, with the judgment hanging about his soul! Ha--as I ama man of white blood, yonder lies a redskin, without the hair of hishead where nature rooted it! Look to him, Delaware; it may be one ofyour missing people; and he should have burial like a stout warrior. Isee it in your eye, Sagamore: a Huron pays for this, afore the fallwinds have blown away the scent of the blood!"
Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and turning it over, hefound the distinguishing marks of one of those six allied tribes, ornations, as they were called, who, while they fought in the Englishranks, were so deadly hostile to his own people. Spurning the loathsomeobject with his foot, he turned from it with the same indifference hewould have quitted a brute carcass. The scout comprehended the action,and very deliberately pursued his own way, continuing, however, hisdenunciations against the French commander in the same resentful strain.
"Nothing but vast wisdom and unlimited power should dare to sweep offmen in multitudes," he added; "for it is only the one that can know thenecessity of the judgment; and what is there, short of the other, thatcan replace the creatures of the Lord? I hold it a sin to kill thesecond buck afore the first is eaten, unless a march in the front, or anambushment, be contemplated. It is a different matter with a fewwarriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to die with therifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as their natures may happen tobe, white or red. Uncas, come this way, lad, and let the ravens settleupon the Mingo. I know, from often seeing it, that they have a cravingfor the flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird follow thegift of its natural appetite."
"Hugh!" exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on the extremities of hisfeet, and gazing intently in his front, frightening the raven to someother prey, by the sound and the action.
"What is it, boy?" whispered the scout, lowering his tall form into acrouching attitude, like a panther about to take his leap; "God send itbe a tardy Frencher, skulking for plunder. I do believe 'Killdeer' wouldtake an oncommon range to-day!"
Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot, and in thenext instant he was seen tearing from a bush, and waving in triumph afragment of the green riding-veil of Cora. The movement, the exhibition,and the cry, which again burst from the lips of the young Mohican,instantly drew the whole party about him.
"My child!" said Munro, speaking quick and wildly "give me my child!"
"Uncas will try," was the short and touching answer.
The simple but meaning assurance was lost on the father, who seized thepiece of gauze, and crushed it in his hand, while his eyes roamedfearfully among the bushes, as if he equally dreaded and hoped for thesecrets they might reveal.
"Here are no dead," said Heyward; "the storm seems not to have passedthis way."
"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our heads,"returned the undisturbed scout; "but either she, or they that haverobbed her, have passed the bush; for I remember the rag she wore tohide a face that all did love to look upon. Uncas, you are right; thedark-hair has been here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to thewood; none who could fly would remain to be murdered. Let us search forthe marks she left; for to Indian eyes, I sometimes think even ahumming-bird leaves his trail in the air."
The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, and the scout hadhardly done speaking, before the former raised a cry of success from themargin of the forest. On reaching the spot, the anxious party perceivedanother portion of the veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.
"Softly, softly," said the scout, extending his long rifle in front ofthe eager Heyward; "we now know our work, but the beauty of the trailmust not be deformed. A step too soon may give us hours of trouble. Wehave them, though; that much is beyond denial."
"Bless ye, bless ye, worthy man!" exclaimed Munro; "whither, then, havethey fled, and where are my babes?"
"The path they have taken depends on many chances. If they have gonealone, they are quite as likely to move in a circle as straight, andthey may be within a dozen miles of us; but if the Hurons, or any of theFrench Indians, have laid hands on them, 'tis probable they are now nearthe borders of the Canadas. But what matters that?" continued thedeliberate scout, observing the powerful anxiety and disappointment thelisteners exhibited; "here are the Mohicans and I on one end of thetrail, and, rely on it, we find the other, though they should be ahundred leagues asunder! Gently, gently, Uncas, you are as impatient asa man in the settlements; you forget that light feet leave but faintmarks!"
"Hugh!" exclaimed Chingachgook, who had been occupied in examining anopening that had been evidently made through the low underbrush, whichskirted the forest; and who now stood erect, as he pointed downwards, inthe attitude and with the air of a man who beheld a disgusting serpent.
"Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a man," criedHeyward, bending over the indicated spot; "he has trod in the margin ofthis pool, and the mark cannot be mistaken. They are captives."
"Better so than left to starve in the wilderness," returned the scout;"and they will leave a wider trail. I would wager fifty beaver skinsagainst as many flints, that the Mohicans and I enter their wigwamswithin the month! Stoop to it, Uncas, and try what you can make of themoccasin; for moccasin it plainly is, and no shoe."
The young Mohican bent over the track, and removing the scattered leavesfrom around the place, he examined it with much of that sort of scrutinythat a money-dealer, in these days of pecuniary doubts, would bestow ona suspected due-bill. At length he arose from his knees, satisfied withthe result of the examination.
"Well, boy," demanded the attentive scout, "what does it say? can youmake anything of the tell-tale?"
"Le Renard Subtil!"
"Ha! that rampaging devil again! there never will be an end of hisloping, till 'Killdeer' has said a friendly word to him."
Heyward reluctantly admitted the truth of this intelligence, and nowexpressed rather his hopes than his doubts by saying,--
"One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable there is somemistake."
"One moccasin like another! you may as well say that one foot is likeanother; though we all know that some are long, and others short; somebroad, and others narrow; some with high, and some with low insteps;some in-toed, and some out. One moccasin is no more like another thanone book is like another; though they who can read in one are seldomable to tell the marks of the other. Which is all ordered for the best,giving to every man his natural advantages. Let me get down to it,Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the worse for having two opinions,instead of one." The scout stooped
to the task, and instantly added,"You are right, boy; here is the patch we saw so often in the otherchase. And the fellow will drink when he can get an opportunity: yourdrinking Indian always learns to walk with a wider toe than the naturalsavage, it being the gift of a drunkard to straddle, whether of white orred skin. 'Tis just the length and breadth too! look at it, Sagamore:you measured the prints more than once, when we hunted the varmints fromGlenn's to the health-springs."
Chingachgook complied; and after finishing his short examination, hearose, and with a quiet demeanor, he merely pronounced the word--
"Magua!"
"Ay, 'tis a settled thing; here then have passed the dark-hair andMagua."
"And not Alice?" demanded Heyward.
"Of her we have not yet seen the signs," returned the scout, lookingclosely around at the trees, the bushes, and the ground. "What have wethere? Uncas, bring hither the thing you see dangling from yonderthorn-bush."
When the Indian had complied, the scout received the prize, and holdingit on high, he laughed in his silent but heartfelt manner.
"'Tis the tooting we'pon of the singer! now we shall have a trail apriest might travel," he said. "Uncas, look for the marks of a shoe thatis long enough to uphold six feet two of tottering human flesh. I beginto have some hopes of the fellow, since he has given up squalling tofollow some better trade."
"At least, he has been faithful to his trust," said Heyward; "and Coraand Alice are not without a friend."
"Yes," said Hawkeye, dropping his rifle, and leaning on it with an airof visible contempt, "he will do their singing. Can he slay a buck fortheir dinner; journey by the moss on the beeches, or cut the throat of aHuron? If not, the first catbird[22] he meets is the cleverest of thetwo. Well, boy, any signs of such a foundation?"
"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a shoe; can itbe that of our friend?"
"Touch the leaves lightly, or you'll disconsart the formation. That!that is the print of a foot, but 'tis the dark-hair's; and small it is,too, for one of such a noble height and grand appearance. The singerwould cover it with his heel."
"Where! let me look on the footsteps of my child," said Munro, shovingthe bushes aside, and bending fondly over the nearly obliteratedimpression. Though the tread, which had left the mark, had been lightand rapid, it was still plainly visible. The aged soldier examined itwith eyes that grew dim as he gazed; nor did he rise from his stoopingposture until Heyward saw that he had watered the trace of hisdaughter's passage with a scalding tear. Willing to divert a distresswhich threatened each moment to break through the restraint ofappearances, by giving the veteran something to do, the young man saidto the scout,--
"As we now possess these infallible signs, let us commence our march. Amoment, at such a time, will appear an age to the captives."
"It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the longest chase,"returned Hawkeye, without moving his eyes from the different marks thathad come under his view; "we know that the rampaging Huron haspassed,--and the dark hair,--and the singer,--but where is she of theyellow locks and blue eyes? Though little, and far from being as bold asher sister, she is fair to the view, and pleasant in discourse. Has sheno friend, that none care for her?"
"God forbid she should ever want hundreds! Are we not now in herpursuit? for one, I will never cease the search till she be found."
"In that case we may have to journey by different paths; for here shehas not passed, light and little as her footstep would be."
Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming to vanish on theinstant. Without attending to this sudden change in the other's humor,the scout, after musing a moment, continued,--
"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a print as that,but the dark-hair or her sister. We know that the first has been here,but where are the signs of the other? Let us push deeper on the trail,and if nothing offers, we must go back to the plain and strike anotherscent. Move on, Uncas, and keep your eyes on the dried leaves. I willwatch the bushes, while your father shall run with a low nose to theground. Move on, friends; the sun is getting behind the hills."
"Is there nothing that I can do?" demanded the anxious Heyward.
"You!" repeated the scout, who, with his red friends, was alreadyadvancing in the order he had prescribed; "yes, you can keep in ourrear, and be careful not to cross the trail."
Before they had proceeded many rods, the Indians stopped, and appearedto gaze at some signs on the earth, with more than their usual keenness.Both father and son spoke quick and loud, now looking at the object oftheir mutual admiration, and now regarding each other with the mostunequivocal pleasure.
"They have found the little foot!" exclaimed the scout, moving forward,without attending further to his own portion of the duty. "What have wehere? An ambushment has been planted in the spot? No, by the truestrifle on the frontiers, here have been them one-sided horses again! Nowthe whole secret is out, and all is plain as the north star at midnight.Yes, here they have mounted. There the beasts have been bound to asapling, in waiting; and yonder runs the broad path away to the north,in full sweep for the Canadas."
"But still there are no signs of Alice--of the younger MissMunro,"--said Duncan.
"Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from the ground shouldprove one. Pass it this way, lad, that we may look at it."
Heyward instantly knew it for a trinket that Alice was fond of wearing,and which he recollected, with the tenacious memory of a lover, to haveseen, on the fatal morning of the massacre, dangling from the fair neckof his mistress. He seized the highly prized jewel; and as he proclaimedthe fact, it vanished from the eyes of the wondering scout, who in vainlooked for it on the ground, long after it was warmly pressed againstthe beating heart of Duncan.
"Pshaw!" said the disappointed Hawkeye, ceasing to rake the leaves withthe breech of his rifle; "'tis a certain sign of age, when the sightbegins to weaken. Such a glittering gewgaw, and not to be seen! Well,well, I can squint along a clouded barrel yet, and that is enough tosettle all disputes between me and the Mingos. I should like to find thething too, if it were only to carry it to the right owner, and thatwould be bringing the two ends of what I call a long trailtogether,--for by this time the broad St. Lawrence, or, perhaps, theGreat Lakes themselves, are atwixt us."
"So much the more reason why we should not delay our march," returnedHeyward; "let us proceed."
"Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the same thing. We arenot about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to drive a deer into theHorican, but to outlie for days and nights, and to stretch across awilderness where the feet of men seldom go, and where no bookishknowledge would carry you through harmless. An Indian never starts onsuch an expedition without smoking over his council-fire; and though aman of white blood, I honor their customs in this particular, seeingthat they are deliberate and wise. We will, therefore, go back, andlight our fire to-night in the ruins of the old fort, and in the morningwe shall be fresh, and ready to undertake our work like men, and notlike babbling women or eager boys."
Heyward saw, by the manner of the scout, that altercation would beuseless. Munro had again sunk into that sort of apathy which had besethim since his late overwhelming misfortunes, and from which he wasapparently to be roused only by some new and powerful excitement. Makinga merit of necessity, the young man took the veteran by the arm, andfollowed in the footsteps of the Indians and the scout, who had alreadybegun to retrace the path which conducted them to the plain.