The Last of the Mohicans; A narrative of 1757 eBook

At length, the toughened sinews of the white man prevailed over the less practiced limbs of the native.  The arm of the latter slowly gave way before the increasing force of the scout, who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from the grasp of the foe, drove the sharp weapon through his naked bosom to the heart.  In the meantime, Heyward had been pressed in a more deadly struggle.  His slight sword was snapped in the first encounter.  As he was destitute of any other means of defense, his safety now depended entirely on bodily strength and resolution.  Though deficient in neither of these qualities, he had met an enemy every way his equal.  Happily, he soon succeeded in disarming his adversary, whose knife fell on the rock at their feet; and from this moment it became a fierce struggle who should cast the other over the dizzy height into a neighboring cavern of the falls.  Every successive struggle brought them nearer to the verge, where Duncan perceived the final and conquering effort must be made.  Each of the combatants threw all his energies into that effort, and the result was, that both tottered on the brink of the precipice.  Heyward felt the grasp of the other at his throat, and saw the grim smile the savage gave, under the revengeful hope that he hurried his enemy to a fate similar to his own, as he felt his body slowly yielding to a resistless power, and the young man experienced the passing agony of such a moment in all its horrors.  At that instant of extreme danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared before him; the Indian released his hold, as the blood flowed freely from around the severed tendons of the wrist; and while Duncan was drawn backward by the saving hand of Uncas, his charmed eyes still were riveted on the fierce and disappointed countenance of his foe, who fell sullenly and disappointed down the irrecoverable precipice.

“To cover! to cover!” cried Hawkeye, who just then had despatched the enemy; “to cover, for your lives! the work is but half ended!”

The young Mohican gave a shout of triumph, and followed by Duncan, he glided up the acclivity they had descended to the combat, and sought the friendly shelter of the rocks and shrubs.

CHAPTER 8

     “They linger yet,
     Avengers of their native land.”—­Gray

The warning call of the scout was not uttered without occasion.  During the occurrence of the deadly encounter just related, the roar of the falls was unbroken by any human sound whatever.  It would seem that interest in the result had kept the natives on the opposite shores in breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift changes in the positions of the combatants effectually prevented a fire that might prove dangerous alike to friend and enemy.  But the moment the struggle was decided, a yell arose as fierce and savage as wild and revengeful passions could throw into the air.  It was followed by the swift flashes of the rifles, which sent their leaden messengers across the rock in volleys, as though the assailants would pour out their impotent fury on the insensible scene of the fatal contest.