Just a few more chapters! Well, a few more before the end and then a few more when I go back to the beginning and middle to fill in what I left out when I had intended this to be only my favorite parts. Thanks for reading, and feel free to point out any grammatical mistakes you see.

Bold is English or French, and regular is Delaware.

I lay on my stomach for what seemed a lifetime straining my ears for any sounds from without, but none came. Pressing my lips together, I rolled onto my back, grunting with pain when my whole weight rested upon my bound hands. Then, slowly, painstakingly, I lifted my torso off the dirt and balanced myself precariously in a sitting position.

Then I heard it, the sharp crack of an unfamiliar rifle. I froze as fear, cold terror, clutched my heart. For several minutes I heard no other sound, then once more the crack of a gun echoed through the village. Once more there was deathly silence. Minutes past without disturbance and I began to breathe easer then twice more a gun reported. And then there was silence.

Hawkeye, Cora, the Major, the Light-hair. Four shots. Four lives taken.

I stood.

She was dead. Cora lived no more. Hawkeye was gone. I would never hear his gun nor watch him devour his supper. The deaths of the two others did not haunt me, though 'Duncan', that was his name, had been a good man and he had claimed my friendship.

Then two youths entered the lodge. They showed their contempt for me plainly, but one, the older of the two, seemed outraged by the tight bindings that held me. He cut them swiftly and led me from the place.

From a distance I saw a multitude of people gathered around something. My fearful imagination pictured the dead bodies of my friends, but I resolved to meet me fate with pride. Never would it be said of me that I did not meet my end with my head held high. As one the crowd silently parted and I passed through alone—my escorts melting in with their brethren. Behind me the crowd refilled the gap, locking me in its boundaries.

I could feel the cold and curious gaze of the multitude, but I did not design to bestow upon them the honor of recognition. I cast a deliberate and observing look on every side of me, searching for the slain, but to my joy I found them standing, alive and breathing.

My eyes flitted from Hawkeye, standing bound with the Major beside him, to 'Alice' lying unconscious in the arms of Magua. But when, at last I saw Cora kneeling before a raised platform on which sat three old men, my heart stilled and my breath came easily. She yet lived, and while she lived I had hope for her freedom.

Then I turned my gaze haughtily upon the dais. Of the three, the eldest, who sat upon a throne of sorts with a bowed white head and closed eyes, held my attention.

His dress was rich and imposing. His robe was of the finest skins, which had been deprived of their fur, in order to represent various deeds in arms, done in years gone by. His bosom was loaded with medals, some in massive silver, and one or two even in gold, the gifts of various French, or Dutch leaders during the long period of his life. He also wore armlets, and bracelets at his ankles, made of gold. On his head rested a plated circlet on which hung lesser and more glittering ornaments that sparkled amid the glossy hues of three drooping ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black. The tomahawk at his belt was nearly covered in silver, and the handle of his knife shone like a horn of solid gold.

But it was the numerous tattoos that had caught my attention, he was a Mohican.

Then advancing with a slow and noiseless step, I placed myself immediately before the footstool of the sage. Here I stood unnoted until one of the chiefs whispered into the ear of the elderly man.

"With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the Manitou?" Finally demanded Tamenund, without opening his eyes.

"Like his fathers," I replied coolly; "with the tongue of a Delaware."

At my words, a low, fierce yell ran through the assembly. The effect of my words was equally strong on the sage, though differently exhibited. He passed a hand before his eyes, as if to exclude the least evidence of so shameful a spectacle, while he repeated, in his low voice the words he had just heard.

"A Delaware! I have lived to see the tribes of the Lenape driven from their council-fires, and scattered, like broken herds of deer, among the hills of the Iroquois! I have seen the hatchets of a strange people sweep woods from the valleys, that the winds of heaven had spared! The beasts that run on the mountains, and the birds that fly above the trees, have I seen living in the wigwams of men; but never before have I found a Delaware so base as to creep, like a poisonous serpent, into the camps of his nation."

"The singing-birds have opened their bills," I returned, softly; "and Tamenund has heard their song."

The old man started, and bent his head aside, as if to catch the fleeting sounds of some passing cry.

"Does Tamenund dream!" he exclaimed. "What voice is at his ear! Have the winters gone backward! Will summer come again to the children of the Lenape!"

A silence succeeded this incoherent burst from the lips of the Mohican. It was broken by on of the two who sat upon either side of the sage; "The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the words of Tamenund," he said. "'Tis a hound that howls, when the Yengeese show him a trail."

"And ye," I returned angrily, looking sternly around me, "are dogs that whine, when the Frenchman casts ye the offals of his deer!"

Twenty knives gleamed in the air at my biting retort; but a motion from one of the chiefs suppressed the outbreaking of their tempers, and restored the appearance of quiet.

During this disruption I cast my gaze upon Cora who still now stood near me. Her face was a cold mask, but when she caught my look, it softened. I turned back then to the platform as Tamenund spoke; "Delaware, little art thou worthy of thy name. My people have not seen a bright sun in many winters; and the warrior who deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is doubly a traitor. The law of the Manitou is just. It is so; while the rivers run and the mountains stand, while the blossoms come and go on the trees, it must be so. He is thine, my children; deal justly by him."

Not a man stired, nor did any reach for their knives till the last word had fallen from Tamenund's lips. Then a cry of vengeance burst at once. In the midst of these prolonged and savage yells, I stood still and upright. Chancing to glance at Magua, I caught his triumphant look as a chief proclaimed, in a loud voice, that I was condemned to endure torture and death by fire. The great living ring broke its order, and screams of delight mingled with the bustle and tumult of preparation.

I watched in silence, for what good would struggle do me? I watched the Major struggle with his captors; and I saw Hawkeye begin to glance around him, with an expression of peculiar earnestness; and Cora again threw herself at the feet of the patriarch.

I watched the fire built with a steady eye, and when my captors came to seize me, I met them proudly, but I did not move from my post, for the Dark-hair was at my side. If any touched her I would have quickly cut him down. But none did and I suffered them to surround me.

One warrior, one who had been part of the group to lead my companions from the lodge, angrily seized my hunting-shirt, and with a single effort tore it from me. The cold air at once caused goosebumps to rise across my skin and I would have grimaced had I been alone, for the tunic had been a good one. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, the warrior leaped towards me. But, at that moment, he froze with shock. The eyes of the Delaware seemed to start from their sockets; his jaw dropped, and he stared unashamedly. Raising his hand slowly, he pointed to the center of my chest where lay the tattoo of a tortoise.

All about me there was silence, as warriors and women and children alike stared at the figure of a small tortoise, tattooed on my breast, in a bright blue tint. The fire was forgotten in their shock and from the corner of my eye, I saw Cora turn from where she had pleaded with Tamenund and look to see the reason for the silence. I felt her gaze burning me for a long moment before it was turned modestly away.

I enjoyed my victory, smiling calmly at Magua, who glowered back at me. Then motioning the crowd away with a haughty sweep of my arm, I advanced to the front of the nation, and spoke above the growing murmur of admiration that ran through the crowd.

"Men of the Lenni Lenape!" I cried, "My race upholds the earth! Your feeble tribe stands on my shell! What fire that a Delaware can light would burn the child of my fathers," then I added, pointing proudly to the simple image on my skin; "the blood that came from such a stock would smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of nations!"

"Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising to his feet behind me.

"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," I answered modestly, turning from the nation, and bending my head in reverence to the other's character and years; "a son of the great Unamis."

"The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed he; "the day is come, at last, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that one is here to fill my place at the council-fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas, is found! Let the eyes of a dying eagle gaze on the rising sun."

I stepped lightly, but proudly, to the platform, where I stood at last before Tamenund. Slowly the old Mohican lifted his hands and rested them upon my broad shoulders.

"Is Tamenund a boy?" at length the bewildered man exclaimed. "Have I dreamt of so many snows—that my people were scattered like floating sands—of Yengeese, more plenty than the leaves on the trees! The arrow of Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; his arm is withered like the branch of a dead oak; the snail would be swifter in the race; yet is Uncas before him as they went to battle against the pale-faces! Uncas, the panther of his tribe, the eldest son of the Lenape, the wisest Sagamore of the Mohicans! Tell me, ye Delawares, has Tamenund been a sleeper for a hundred winters?"

"Four warriors of his race have lived, and died," I said, "since the friend of Tamenund led his people in battle. The blood of the turtle has been in many chiefs, but all have gone back into the earth from whence they came except Chingachgook and his son."

"It is true—it is true," returned the sage; a flash of recollection destroying all his pleasing fancies, and restoring him at once to remembrances of the true history of his nation. "Our wise men have often said that two warriors of the unchanged race were in the hills of the Yengeese; why have their seats at the council-fires of the Delawares been so long empty?"

At these words I raised my head in reverence; and lifting my voice so as to be heard by all, I said aloud,—

"Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake speak in its anger. Then we were rulers and sagamores over the land. But when a pale-face was seen on every brook, we followed the deer back to the river of our nation. The Delawares were gone. Few warriors of them all stayed to drink of the stream they loved. Then said my fathers, 'Here will we hunt. The waters of the river go into the salt lake. If we go towards the setting sun, we shall find streams that run into the great lakes of sweet water; there would a Mohican die, like fishes of the sea, in the clear springs. When the Manitou is ready, and shall say "Come," we will follow the river to the sea, and take our own again.' Such, Delawares, is the belief of the children of the Turtle. Our eyes are on the rising, and not towards the setting sun. We know whence he comes, but we know not whither he goes. It is enough."

I watched the effect of my explanation, and gradually dropped the air of authority I had assumed, as I perceived that my listeners were content. My hand brushed my stolen knife and I glanced suddenly up at Hawkeye, where he stood bound. Stepping eagerly, I made my way to the side of my friend; and cutting his thongs with a quick and angry stroke of my knife, I motioned to the crowd to divide. The Delawares silently obeyed.

"Father," I said, leading Hawkeye to Tamenund, "look at this pale-face; a just man, and the friend of the Delawares."

"Is he a son of Minquon?"

"Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and feared by the Maquas."

"What name has he gained by his deeds?"

"We call him Hawkeye," I replied; "for his sight never fails. The Mingos know him better by the death he gives their warriors; with them he is 'The Long Rifle.'"

"La Longue Carabine!" exclaimed Tamenund, opening his eyes, and regarding the scout sternly. "My son has not done well to call him friend."

"I call him so who proves himself such," I returned, resolutely adhering to my mentor. "If Uncas is welcome among the Delawares, then is Hawkeye with his friends."

"The pale-face has slain my young men; his name is great for the blows he has struck the Lenape."

"If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the Delaware, he has only shown that he is a singing-bird," exclaimed Hawkeye, indignantly. "That I have slain the Maquas I am not the man to deny, even at their own council-fires; but that, knowingly, my hand has ever harmed a Delaware, is opposed to the reason of my gifts, which is friendly to them, and all that belongs to their nation."

"Where is the Huron?" demanded Tamenund. "Has he stopped my ears?"

Magua answered to the call by stepping boldly in front of the patriarch and standing abreast to me. "The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron has lent."

"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding Magua's face, and turning instead to me, "has the stranger a conqueror's right over you?"

"He has none. The panther may get into snares set by the women; but he is strong, and knows how to leap through them." I answered with foreboding.

"La Longue Carabine?"

I smiled mockingly at Magua, "Laughs at the Mingoes. Go, Huron, ask your squaws the color of a bear."

Magua lifted his upper lip in a silent snarl, but I turned away.

"The stranger and the white maiden that came into my camp together?"

"Should journey on an open path."

"And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?"

I closed my eyes and made no reply. I could not.

"And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp," repeated Tamenund, gravely.

"She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at me. "Mohican, you know that she is mine."

"My son is silent," said Tamenund, endeavoring to read the expression of the face that I had turned from him in sorrow.

I sucked air into lungs that seemed suddenly to cave in upon themselves. I opened my eyes and my gaze fell upon Cora's upright figure. I turned away from her, but not before I had seen the understanding in her dry eyes.

"It is so," I answered in a low voice.

There was silence for a time, then Tamenund spoke.

"Huron, depart."

"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the Magua; "or with hands filled with the faith of the Delawares? The wigwam of Le Renard Subtil is empty. Make him strong with his own."

The aged man mused with himself for a time; and then bending his head towards one of his companions, he asked,—

"Are my ears open?"

"It is true."

"Is this Mingo a chief?"

"The first in his nation."

Then he turned to Cora and said gently, kindly even, "Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to wife. Go, thy race will not end."

"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed she, "than meet with such a degradation!"

"Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam."

"She speaks with the tongue of her people," returned Magua, regarding her with a look of bitter irony. "She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a bright look. Let Tamenund speak the words."

"Take you the wampum, and our love."

"Nothing hence but what Magua brought hither."

I held my breath in anticipation, though I knew already the sentence."Then depart with thine own. The great Manitou forbids that a Delaware should be unjust."

Magua advanced, and seized the Dark-hair strongly by the arm; the Delawares fell back, in silence; and Cora, as if conscious that remonstrance would be useless, submitted to her fate without resistance.

"Hold, hold!" cried the Major, springing forward; "Huron, have mercy, her ransom shall make thee richer than any of thy people were ever yet known to be."

"Magua is a redskin; he wants not the beads of the pale-faces."

"Gold, silver, powder, lead—all that a warrior needs shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest chief."

"Le Subtil is very strong," cried Magua, violently shaking the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of Cora; "he has his revenge!"

"Mighty ruler of providence!" exclaimed Heyward, clasping his hands together in agony, "can this be suffered! To you, just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy."

"The words of the Delaware are said," returned the sage, closing his eyes, and dropping back into his seat, alike wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion. "Men speak not twice."

All this I watched in silence. As before, in the lodge, I yearned to kill the Dark-hair's tormentor. I longed to sink my blade into Magua's heart, it pained me not to, but Cora's eyes pleaded with me to be calm. So I held myself in check and watched in silence.

"That a chief should not misspend his time in unsaying what had once been spoken, is wise and reasonable," said Hawkeye, motioning to the Major to be silent; "but it is also prudent in every warrior to consider well before he strikes his tomahawk into the head of his prisoner. Huron, I love you not; nor can I say that any Mingo has ever received much favor at my hands. It is fair to conclude that, if this war does not soon end, many more of your warriors will meet me in the woods. Put it to your judgment, then, whether you would prefer taking such a prisoner as that into your encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it would greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked hands."

"Will 'The Long Rifle' give his life for the woman?" demanded Magua, hesitatingly.

"No, no; I have not said so much as that," returned Hawkeye, drawing back with discretion, when he noted the eagerness with which Magua listened to his proposal. "It would be an unequal exchange, to give a warrior, in the prime of his age and usefulness, for the best woman on the frontiers. I might consent to go into winter-quarters, now—at least six weeks afore the leaves will turn—on condition you will release the maiden."

Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign for the crowd to open.

"Well, then," added the scout, with the musing air of a man who had not half made up his mind, "I will throw 'Killdeer' into the bargain. Take the word of an experienced hunter, the piece has not its equal 'atween the provinces."

Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts to disperse the crowd.

"Perhaps," added the scout, losing his dissembled coolness, "if I should condition to teach your young men the real virtue of the we'pon, it would smooth the little differences in our judgments."

Le Renard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still lingered in an impenetrable belt around him to open his path, threatening, by the glance of his eye, to appeal once more to the infallible justice of Tamenund.

"What is ordered must sooner or later arrive," continued Hawkeye, turning with a sad and humbled look to me. "The varlet knows his advantage, and will keep it! God bless you, boy;" here he gripped my shoulder tightly, "you have found friends among your natural kin and I hope they will prove as true as some you have met who had no Indian cross. As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it is therefore fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl. After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to master my scalp, so a day or two will make no great difference in the everlasting reckoning of time. God bless you," then he added, bending his head aside, and then instantly changing its direction again, with a wistful look towards me; "I loved both you and your father, Uncas, though our skins are not altogether of a color, and our gifts are somewhat different. Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him in my greatest trouble; and, as for you, think of me sometimes when on a lucky trail; and depend on it, boy, whether there be one heaven or two, there is a path in the other world by which honest men may come together again. You'll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take it, and keep it for my sake; and hark'ee, lad, as your natural gifts don't deny you the use of vengeance, use it a little freely on the Mingos; it may unburden grief at my loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept your offer; release the woman. I am your prisoner!"

Magua paused, and for an anxious moment he doubted his first intent; then casting his eyes on Cora, with an expression in which ferocity and admiration were mingled, he fixed his purpose forever.

"Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one mind. Come," he added, laying his hand too familiarly on the shoulder of his captive to urge her onward, and a muscle in my neck bulged as I clenched my teeth together; "a Huron is no tattler; we will go."

Cora drew back angrily, and her dark eye kindled, and blood shot into her very temples, at the indignity.

"I am your prisoner, and at a fitting time shall be ready to follow, even to my death. But violence is unnecessary," she rebuked coldly; and immediately turning to Hawkeye, added, "Generous hunter, from my soul I thank you. Your offer is in vain, neither could it be accepted; but still you may serve me, even more than in your own noble intention. Look at that drooping, humbled child! Abandon her not until you leave her in the habitation of civilized men. I will not say," wringing the hard hand of the scout, "that her father will reward you—for such as you are above the rewards of men—but he will thank you, and bless you. And, believe me, the blessing of a just and aged man has virtue in the sight of Heaven. Would to God, I could hear one from his lips at this awful moment!" Her voice became choked, and, for an instant, she was silent; then advancing a step nigher to the Major, who was supporting her unconscious sister, she continued, "I need not tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess. You love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand faults, though she had them. She is kind, gentle, sweet, good, as mortal may be. There is not a blemish in mind or person at which the proudest of you all would sicken. She is fair—O how surpassingly fair!" laying her own beautiful, but less brilliant hand, with affection on the Light-hair's pale forehead; "And yet her soul is pure and spotless as her skin! I could say much—more, perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare you and myself"—Her voice became inaudible to me, and she bent over her sister.

After pressing a kiss to the young girl's brow, she arose, and pale with features, but with dry eyes, she turned away. She looked then at me and she took one step forward, then seemed to think better of it, only to approach me once more, and tearing the necklace from her throat, hand it to me saying, "When you see him give it to him. It will remind him of my mother and me when he sees it."

I nodded my head and closed my fist once more around the white stone. "Uncas will do it."

With thankful eyes she turned away and said, to Le Renard, with all her former pride, "Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I will follow."

"Ay, go," cried The Major, pushing the Light-hair into the arms of an Indian girl; "go, Magua, go. These Delawares have their laws, which forbid them to detain you; but I—I have no such obligation. Go, malignant monster—why do you delay?"

Magua smiled eagerly, and said, "The woods are open, 'The Open Hand' can come."

"Hold," cried Hawkeye, seizing the Major by the arm, and detaining him with violence; "you know not the craft of the imp. He would lead you to an ambush, and your death—"

"Huron," I interrupted rashly, I had been submissive to the justice of my people, and at the Open Hand's proposal I found the limit of what I could endure; "Huron, the justice of the Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at the sun. He is now in the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is short and open. When he is seen above the trees, there will be men on your trail."

"I hear a crow!" Laughed Magua. "Go!" he added, shaking his fist at the assembly, which had slowly opened to admit his passage,—"Where are the petticoats of the Delawares! Let them send their arrows and their guns to the Wyandots; they shall have venison to eat, and corn to hoe. Dogs, rabbits, thieves—I spit on you!"

Silence met the insults that ended the friendship between the two tribes and he and his young men and their captive passed from within the living ring, into the forest.