for that
passing moment, and the ground was quickly strewed with their enemies.
Still Magua, though daring and much exposed, escaped from every effort
against his life, with that sort of fabled protection that was made to
overlook the fortunes of favored heroes in the legends of ancient
poetry. Raising a yell that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment,
the subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted away from the
place, attended by his two only surviving friends, leaving the Delawares
engaged in stripping the dead of the bloody trophies of their victory.

But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the _melee_ bounded forward in
pursuit; Hawkeye, Heyward, and David still pressing on his footsteps.
The utmost that the scout could effect, was to keep the muzzle of his
rifle a little in advance of his friend, to whom, however, it answered
every purpose of a charmed shield. Once Magua appeared disposed to make
another and a final effort to revenge his losses; but, abandoning his
intention as soon as demonstrated, he leaped into a thicket of bushes,
through which he was followed by his enemies, and suddenly entered the
mouth of the cave already known to the reader. Hawkeye, who had only
forborne to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of success, and
proclaimed aloud, that now they were certain of their game. The pursuers
dashed into the long and narrow entrance, in time to catch a glimpse of
the retreating forms of the Hurons. Their passage through the natural
galleries and subterraneous apartments of the cavern was preceded by the
shrieks and cries of hundreds of women and children. The place, seen by
its dim and uncertain light, appeared like the shades of the infernal
regions, across which unhappy ghosts and savage demons were flitting in
multitudes.

Still Uncas kept his eye on Magua, as if life to him possessed but a
single object. Heyward and the scout still pressed on his rear,
actuated, though possibly in a less degree, by a common feeling. But
their way was becoming intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, and
the glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct and frequent; and
for a moment the trace was believed to be lost, when a white robe was
seen fluttering in the farther extremity of a passage that seemed to
lead up the mountain.

"'Tis Cora!" exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which horror and delight
were wildly mingled.

"Cora! Cora!" echoed Uncas, bending forward like a deer.