V.—­Hawk-eye’s Revenge

Magua, for motives of policy, had, while keeping Alice in his own hands, entrusted Cora to the neighbouring tribe of Tortoise Delawares.  Thither went Magua, to find that the scout and his companions were before him.  Nothing daunted, Magua almost persuaded the Tortoises to surrender the girl.  As the chief of the tribe hesitated how to act, Uncas stepped forward and bared his breast.  A cry rose from all present, for there, delicately tatooed on the young Mohican’s skin, was the emblem of a Tortoise.  In him the tribe recognised the long-lost scion of the purest race of the Delawares, who, tradition said, still wandered far and unknown on the hills and through the forests.

But in spite of Uncas’s authority, the Indian law could not be set aside.  Cora was Magua’s captive of war.  He had sought her in peace, and she must follow him.  By all the laws of Indian hospitality his person was sacred till the setting of the sun.

As soon as the Maquas had disappeared, the Tortoises made ready for war, with all the grim and terrifying ceremonies of their race.  As hour after hour slipped by, the savage spirit of the tribe increased in fury.  Uncas alone remained unmoved.  Standing in the midst of the now maddened savages, he kept his eyes fixed upon the declining sun.  It dipped beneath the horizon; at once the whole encampment was broken up, and the warriors rushed down the trail which Magua had followed.

As soon as they came in touch with the enemy, a desperate and bloody battle was fought.  Under the leadership of the two Mohicans and Hawk-eye, victory swayed to the side of the Tortoises.  Huron after Huron fell, until only Magua and two companions were left.  Then, with a yell, Le Renard Subtil rushed from the field of battle, and, seizing Cora, ran up a steep defile towards the mountains.  On the side of the precipice Cora refused to move any farther.

“Woman!” cried Magua, raising his knife, “choose—­the wigwam or the knife of Le Subtil?”

Cora neither heard nor heeded his demands.  Magua trembled in every fibre.  He raised his arm on high.  Just then a piercing cry was heard from above, and Uncas leapt frantically from a fearful height upon the ledge on which they stood.  He fell prostrate for a moment.  As he lay there, Magua plunged his knife into his back, and at the same moment one of the other Indians stretched Cora lifeless.  With the last effort of his strength Uncas rose to his feet, and hurled Cora’s murderer into the abyss below.  Then, with a stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil and indicated with the expression of his eye all that he would do had not the power deserted him, Magua seized his nerveless arm and stretched him dead by passing his dagger several times through his body.

“Mercy!” cried Heyward from above.  “Give mercy, and thou shalt receive it!”

For answer, Magua raised a shout of triumph, and, leaping a wide fissure, made for the summit of the mountain.  A single bound would carry him to the brow of the precipice and assure his safety.  Before taking the leap he shook his hand defiantly at Hawk-eye, who waited with his rifle raised.