Cora ceased her entreaties; and veiling her face in
her shawl, drew the nearly insensible Alice after
her into the deepest recess of the inner cavern.
“Be gay securely;
Dispel, my fair, with
smiles, the tim’rous clouds,
That hang on thy clear
brow.”—Death of Agrippina
The sudden and almost magical change, from the stirring
incidents of the combat to the stillness that now
reigned around him, acted on the heated imagination
of Heyward like some exciting dream. While all
the images and events he had witnessed remained deeply
impressed on his memory, he felt a difficulty in persuading
him of their truth. Still ignorant of the fate
of those who had trusted to the aid of the swift current,
he at first listened intently to any signal or sounds
of alarm, which might announce the good or evil fortune
of their hazardous undertaking. His attention
was, however, bestowed in vain; for with the disappearance
of Uncas, every sign of the adventurers had been lost,
leaving him in total uncertainty of their fate.
In a moment of such painful doubt, Duncan did not
hesitate to look around him, without consulting that
protection from the rocks which just before had been
so necessary to his safety. Every effort, however,
to detect the least evidence of the approach of their
hidden enemies was as fruitless as the inquiry after
his late companions. The wooded banks of the
river seemed again deserted by everything possessing
animal life. The uproar which had so lately echoed
through the vaults of the forest was gone, leaving
the rush of the waters to swell and sink on the currents
of the air, in the unmingled sweetness of nature.
A fish-hawk, which, secure on the topmost branches
of a dead pine, had been a distant spectator of the
fray, now swooped from his high and ragged perch, and
soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a jay,
whose noisy voice had been stilled by the hoarser
cries of the savages, ventured again to open his discordant
throat, as though once more in undisturbed possession
of his wild domains. Duncan caught from these
natural accompaniments of the solitary scene a glimmering
of hope; and he began to rally his faculties to renewed
exertions, with something like a reviving confidence
of success.
“The Hurons are not to be seen,” he said,
addressing David, who had by no means recovered from
the effects of the stunning blow he had received;
“let us conceal ourselves in the cavern, and
trust the rest to Providence.”
“I remember to have united with two comely maidens,
in lifting up our voices in praise and thanksgiving,”
returned the bewildered singing-master; “since
which time I have been visited by a heavy judgment
for my sins. I have been mocked with the likeness
of sleep, while sounds of discord have rent my ears,
such as might manifest the fullness of time, and that
nature had forgotten her harmony.”
