The Last of the Mohicans; A narrative of 1757 eBook

It is impossible to describe the music of their language, while thus engaged in laughter and endearments, in such a way as to render it intelligible to those whose ears have never listened to its melody.  The compass of their voices, particularly that of the youth, was wonderful—­extending from the deepest bass to tones that were even feminine in softness.  The eyes of the father followed the plastic and ingenious movements of the son with open delight, and he never failed to smile in reply to the other’s contagious but low laughter.  While under the influence of these gentle and natural feelings, no trace of ferocity was to be seen in the softened features of the Sagamore.  His figured panoply of death looked more like a disguise assumed in mockery than a fierce annunciation of a desire to carry destruction in his footsteps.

After an hour had passed in the indulgence of their better feelings, Chingachgook abruptly announced his desire to sleep, by wrapping his head in his blanket and stretching his form on the naked earth.  The merriment of Uncas instantly ceased; and carefully raking the coals in such a manner that they should impart their warmth to his father’s feet, the youth sought his own pillow among the ruins of the place.

Imbibing renewed confidence from the security of these experienced foresters, Heyward soon imitated their example; and long before the night had turned, they who lay in the bosom of the ruined work, seemed to slumber as heavily as the unconscious multitude whose bones were already beginning to bleach on the surrounding plain.

CHAPTER 20

     “Land of Albania! let me bend mine eyes
     On thee; thou rugged nurse of savage men!”
     —­Childe Harold

The heavens were still studded with stars, when Hawkeye came to arouse the sleepers.  Casting aside their cloaks Munro and Heyward were on their feet while the woodsman was still making his low calls, at the entrance of the rude shelter where they had passed the night.  When they issued from beneath its concealment, they found the scout awaiting their appearance nigh by, and the only salutation between them was the significant gesture for silence, made by their sagacious leader.

“Think over your prayers,” he whispered, as they approached him; “for He to whom you make them, knows all tongues; that of the heart, as well as those of the mouth.  But speak not a syllable; it is rare for a white voice to pitch itself properly in the woods, as we have seen by the example of that miserable devil, the singer.  Come,” he continued, turning toward a curtain of the works; “let us get into the ditch on this side, and be regardful to step on the stones and fragments of wood as you go.”

His companions complied, though to two of them the reasons of this extraordinary precaution were yet a mystery.  When they were in the low cavity that surrounded the earthen fort on three sides, they found that passage nearly choked by the ruins.  With care and patience, however, they succeeded in clambering after the scout, until they reached the sandy shore of the Horican.