n. The Mohican appeared to
comprehend the nature of the attempt his friend had made, intuitively;
neither tongue nor feature betraying another symptom of surprise. When
Hawkeye had cast his shaggy vestment, which was done by simply loosing
certain thongs of skin, he drew a long glittering knife, and put it in
the hands of Uncas.

"The red Hurons are without," he said; "let us be ready."

At the same time he laid his finger significantly on another similar
weapon, both being the fruits of his prowess among their enemies during
the evening.

"We will go," said Uncas.

"Whither?"

"To the Tortoises; they are the children of my grandfathers."

"Ay, lad," said the scout in English--a language he was apt to use when
a little abstracted in mind; "the same blood runs in your veins, I
believe; but time and distance have a little changed its color. What
shall we do with the Mingos at the door? They count six, and this singer
is as good as nothing."

"The Hurons are boasters," said Uncas scornfully; "their 'totem' is a
moose, and they run like snails. The Delawares are children of the
tortoise, and they outstrip the deer."

"Ay, lad, there is truth in what you say; and I doubt not, on a rush,
you would pass the whole nation; and, in a straight race of two miles,
would be in, and get your breath again, afore a knave of them all was
within hearing of the other village. But the gift of a white man lies
more in his arms than in his legs. As for myself, I can brain a Huron as
well as a better man; but when it comes to a race, the knaves would
prove too much for me."

Uncas, who had already approached the door, in readiness to lead the
way, now recoiled; and placed himself, once more, in the bottom of the
lodge. But Hawkeye, who was too much occupied with his own thoughts to
note the movement, continued speaking more to himself than to his
companion.

"After all," he said, "it is unreasonable to keep one man in bondage to
the gifts of another. So, Uncas, you had better take the leap, while I
put on the skin again, and trust to cunning for want of speed."

The young Mohican made no reply, but quietly folded his arms, and leaned
his body against one of the upright posts that supported the wall of the
hut.

"Well," said the scout, looking up at him, "why do you tarry? There will
be time enough for me, as the knaves will give chase to you at first."

"Uncas will stay," was the calm reply.

"For what?"

"To fight with hi