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.Heyward began to grow impatient, and turned his eyes anxiously in the direction of Chingachgook.The chief was seated on a rock, with nothing visible but his calm visage, considering the spectacle with an eye as deliberate, as if he were posted there merely to view the struggle.»The time is come for the Delaware to strike!« said Duncan.»Not so, not so,« returned the scout; »when he scents his friends, he will let them know that he is here.See, see; the knaves are getting in that clump of pines, like bees settling after their flight.By the Lord, a squaw might put a bullet into the centre of such a knot of dark-skins!«At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen Hurons fell by a discharge from Chingachgook and his band.The shout that followed, was answered by a single war-cry from the forest, and a yell passed through the air, that sounded as if a thousand throats were united in a common effort.The Hurons staggered, deserting the centre of their line, and Uncas issued from the forest through the opening they left, at the head of a hundred warriors.Waving his hands right and left, the young chief pointed out the enemy to his followers, who separated in pursuit.The war now divided, both wings of the broken Hurons seeking protection in the woods again, hotly pressed by the victorious warriors of the Lenape.A minute might have passed, but the sounds were already receding in different directions, and gradually losing their distinctness beneath the echoing arches of the woods.One little knot of Hurons, however, had disdained to seek a cover, and were retiring, like lions at bay, slowly and sullenly up the acclivity, which Chingachgook and his band had just deserted to mingle, more closely, in the fray.Magua was conspicuous in this party, both by his fierce and savage mien, and by the air of haughty authority he yet maintained.In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had left himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye caught the figure of le Subtil, every other consideration was forgotten.Raising his cry of battle, which recalled some six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity in their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy.Le Renard, who watched the movement, paused to receive him with secret joy.But at the moment when he thought the rashness of his impetuous young assailant had left him at his mercy, another shout was given, and la Longue Carabine was seen rushing to the rescue, attended by all his white associates.The Huron instantly turned, and commenced a rapid retreat up the ascent.There was no time for greetings or congratulations; for Uncas, though unconscious of the presence of his friends, continued the pursuit with the velocity of the wind.In vain Hawk-eye called to him to respect the covers; the young Mohican braved the dangerous fire of his enemies, and soon compelled them to a flight as swift as his own headlong speed.It was fortunate that the race was of short continuance, and that the white men were much favoured by their position, or the Delaware would soon have outstripped all his companions, and fallen a victim to his own temerity.But ere such a calamity could happen, the pursuers and pursued entered the Wyandot village, within striking distance of each other.Excited by the presence of their dwellings, and tired of the chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought around their council lodge with the fury of despair.The onset and the issue were like the passage and destruction of a whirlwind.The tomahawk of Uncas, the blows of Hawk-eye, and, even, the still nervous arm of Munro, were all busy 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 favoured 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 mêlée, bounded forward in pursuit; Hawk-eye, 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 intentions 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.Hawk-eye, 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
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