so often proved his
prowess on the best and proudest of their nation. Uncas enjoyed his
victory, but was content with merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet
smile--an emblem of scorn which belongs to all time and every nation.

Magua caught the expression, and raising his arm, he shook it at the
captive, the light silver ornaments attached to his bracelet rattling
with the trembling agitation of the limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he
exclaimed, in English,--

"Mohican, you die!"

"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to life," returned
Uncas, in the music of the Delawares; "the tumbling river washes their
bones; their men are squaws; their women owls. Go! call together the
Huron dogs, that they may look upon a warrior. My nostrils are offended;
they scent the blood of a coward."

The latter allusion struck deep, and the injury rankled. Many of the
Hurons understood the strange tongue in which the captive spoke, among
which number was Magua. This cunning savage beheld, and instantly
profited by his advantage. Dropping the light robe of skin from his
shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced a burst of his
dangerous and artful eloquence. However much his influence among his
people had been impaired by his occasional and besetting weakness, as
well as by his desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an
orator were undeniable. He never spoke without auditors, and rarely
without making converts to his opinions. On the present occasion, his
native powers were stimulated by the thirst of revenge.

He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at Glenn's,
the death of his associates, and the escape of their most formidable
enemies. Then he described the nature and position of the mount whither
he had led such captives as had fallen into their hands. Of his own
bloody intentions towards the maidens, and of his baffled malice he made
no mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party by La
Longue Carabine, and its fatal termination. Here he paused, and looked
about him, in affected veneration for the departed, but, in truth, to
note the effect of his opening narrative. As usual, every eye was
riveted on his face. Each dusky figure seemed a breathing statue, so
motionless was the posture, so intense the attention of the individual.

Then Magua dropped his voice, which had hitherto been clear, strong, and
elevated, and touched upon the merits of the dead. No qual