se feelings during that scene in which Uncas had triumphed may
be much better imagined than described, answered to the call by stepping
boldly in front of the patriarch.

"The just Tamenund," he said, "will not keep what a Huron has lent."

"Tell me, son of my brother," returned the sage, avoiding the dark
countenance of Le Subtil, and turning gladly to the more ingenuous
features of Uncas, "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."

"La Longue Carabine?"

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

"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?"

Uncas made no reply.

"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 Uncas.
"Mohican, you know that she is mine."

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

"It is so," was the low answer.

A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which it was very
apparent with what reluctance the multitude admitted the justice of the
Mingo's claim. At length the sage, in whom alone the decision depended,
said, in a firm voice,--

"Huron, depart."

"As he came, just Tamenund," demanded the wily 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 venerable companions, he asked,--

"Are my ears open?"

"It is true."

"Is this Mingo a chief?"

"The first in his nation."

"Girl, what wouldst thou? A great warrior takes thee to wife. Go! thy
race will not end."

"Better, a thousand times, it should," exclaimed the horror-struck
Cora, "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
his victim 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."