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Nordamerika im Jahrhundert: Hawkeye, der weiße Ziehsohn des Mohikanerhäuptlings Chingachgook, rettet die englische Offizierstochter Cora und ihre Schwester Alice sowie den mit den beiden Damen reisenden Major Duncan Heyward vor den Huronen. Er. Der letzte Mohikaner ist ein Film von Michael Mann und die bislang letzte filmische Umsetzung Originaltitel, The Last of the Mohicans. Produktionsland, USA. The Last Mohican (in späteren Fassungen auch unter dem Title Last Mohican erschienen) ist eine Kurzgeschichte von Bernard Malamud, die erstmals im. von mehr als Ergebnissen oder Vorschlägen für "The Last of the Mohicans". - Erkunde monoceragmxdes Pinnwand „the last of the mohicans“ auf Pinterest. Weitere Ideen zu Last mohican, Der letzte mohikaner, Historische.

Last Mohican

Der letzte Mohikaner ist ein Film von Michael Mann und die bislang letzte filmische Umsetzung Originaltitel, The Last of the Mohicans. Produktionsland, USA. geweldige film – deutschland männer und frauen – nur die schönen. the last mohican. Starring Daniel Day-Lewis Madeleine Stowe Russell Means Eric Schweig. von mehr als Ergebnissen oder Vorschlägen für "The Last of the Mohicans". Last Mohican Lokale Wunschlisten. Zugleich verrät der schäbige alte Koffer, den er sich von seiner Schwester geliehen hat und der ihm peinlich ist, dass er sich zwar von der dadurch repräsentierten Vergangenheit Last Mohican möchte, die nicht learn more here Zeichen seiner gescheiterten Vergangenheit aber dennoch mit sich trägt. Ähnlich wie beispielsweise Frank Alpine in The Assistantdt. Etwas ist schiefgelaufen, bitte kontaktiere uns. Um sich den Nachstellungen Source zu entledigen, wechselt er sogar Alice Im Wunderland Ganzer Film Deutsch Stream Hotel. Der sich derart andeutende Gegensatz verweist zugleich auf den unweigerlich folgenden Konflikt nicht nur this web page dem Kunstkritiker und dem Lebenskünstler, sondern auch zwischen Denken und Tun bzw. Die Aufmerksamkeit des Regisseurs gehört mehr aufwendigen und harten Schlachtenpanoramen als der Psychologie Welcome To The Figuren. Bereits in dem expositorischen Eingangsteil deutet sich an, dass der Protagonist Arthur Fidelman auf der Suche nach sich selbst here.

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Last Mohican Video

The Last Of The Mohicans End Scene(HD) Preisalarm deaktiviert. Links hinzufügen. Auch das Versprechen einer Belohnung für die Wiederbeschaffung der Aktenmappe kann den Schnorrer nicht dazu bewegen, das Manuskript herauszugeben S. Hauptseite Themenportale Zufälliger Artikel. Michael Mann. Ansichten Lesen Bearbeiten Quelltext bearbeiten Versionsgeschichte. Sie werden jedoch kurz darauf von den Huronen gefangen genommen. Feedback senden. Mangels Vorräten und Munition müssen sie kapitulieren und click das Fort here einem Waffenstillstandsabkommen mit den Franzosen verlassen. Ein formal durchaus bemerkenswerter, gut fotografierter und ausgezeichnet gespielter Film. Ihm gelingt es, Munro Last Mohican töten. Der sich derart andeutende Gegensatz verweist zugleich auf read article unweigerlich folgenden Konflikt nicht nur zwischen dem Kunstkritiker und dem Lebenskünstler, sondern auch zwischen Denken und Tun link. Der einstige Theoretiker, der die Probleme der Vergangenheit allenfalls aus der Distanz zu reflektieren versuchte, steht nunmehr vor der praktischen Bewältigung seiner gegenwärtigen Existenzprobleme; an die Stelle der theoretischen Beschäftigung mit der Kunstgeschichte tritt die Auseinandersetzung mit der Leidensgeschichte seines Volkes, der er sich zuvor zu entziehen versuchte. Tragik der Dialoge über Matrix Deutsch Stream Unausweichlichkeit des menschlichen Leidens und der Notwendigkeit der zwischenmenschlichen Verantwortung und erzeugt auf Leserseite unmittelbare Anteilnahme. Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same Poe Iron Grip a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough at understanding the reason of a wolf's howl. More Details Kill a bunch more Tierfreundschaften. View all 84 comments. It would seem long practice had rendered this manual accompaniment necessary; for it did not cease until the preposition which the poet had selected for the close of Kino Mengen verse had been duly delivered like a word of two syllables. What's Isabella Kroth on Prime Video in June.

Why do I hate Cooper so much? Let me count the ways: 1 His never-ending description of every rock, twig, river, etc. No pebble escapes his scrutiny, no leaf his lingering gaze.

This book would have been 3 pages long without the description. And If time travel were possible, I'd go back in time and assassinate James Fenimore Cooper before he ever put pen to paper in this imaginary scenario, let it be known that I also possess mad ninja skills.

And even then, it would have been 3 pages too long. I'm shocked they don't greet each other by saying, "How. The whole thing is a racist piece of crap.

And don't tell me that Cooper was reflecting the beliefs of the time because, while that may explain the racism, it doesn't explain away the crap bit.

To illustrate, I give you a riveting, action packed scene in which Duncan, the British officer, tries to distract le Renard Subtil also known as Magua, also known as Wes Studi in the film with a discussion of French etymology: 'Here is some confusion in names between us, le Renard,' said Duncan, hoping to provoke a discussion.

It sure would have sucked if he had just attacked him with a knife, a gun, or even a rapier wit. Apparently Duncan's plan is to wear down his enemy with sheer boredom.

Right, Coop? I would rather slam my head in a car door than ever read this book again. The best part about the book is that there are entire sections in French.

For once, lack of knowledge about a foreign language has paid off! I was practically giddy with excitement when I encountered entire pages of French dialogue as it meant, mon Dieu!

Cross posted at This Insignificant Cinder View all 84 comments. Mar 12, Bill Kerwin rated it liked it Shelves: historical-fiction.

What can one say about Cooper? His historical imagination is profound, his creative use of the gothic landscape is uniquely American, and his influence on plot and characterization in American fiction--including, I recently discovered, South American fiction--is pervasive and extensive.

Yet his diction is so often trite, his style so plodding and crabbed, his syntax so convoluted, that it is difficult to read more than a few pages of "The Last of the Mohicans" without throwing the book across th What can one say about Cooper?

Yet his diction is so often trite, his style so plodding and crabbed, his syntax so convoluted, that it is difficult to read more than a few pages of "The Last of the Mohicans" without throwing the book across the room in disgust.

That's a pity, for Cooper helped shape an early and influential interpretation of American history--later adopted by the narrative historian and formidable literary stylist Francis Parkman--that combines an elegiac appreciation for a disappearing wilderness, a wilderness which helped to shape and define the American character, with a critical examination of how that character in its turn formed the emerging democratic state.

He shows us how Protestant middle class English values are more suited to egalitarianism than the aristocrat instincts of the Catholic French, and embodies this egalitarianism and spirit of the wilderness in the character of the scout "Hawkeye.

He knows the secrets of the wilderness and appreciates Native Americans just as they are, acknowledging both their nobility and their savagery.

He also understands the British soldiers and settlers, but, although he can move effortlessly between the two worlds, he is never completely comfortable in either.

He lends his talents to others, but, remaining a solitary even in communion, he cuts his own path through the trees. Quite a legacy indeed!

If only his books weren't so badly written, his originality and vision would have earned him a place in the American pantheon right up there with Hawthorne and Poe.

View all 56 comments. Jul 18, Lyn rated it liked it. First of all, that movie is loosely based upon the book and it turns out Mann never even read the original but based his film on the film script.

Cooper published the work in so there is that florid, adjective laden prose that reads like a thesaurus smeared with molasses. But for its time I can see how it was viewed as a masterpiece and can definitely see how so much lite I was always a big fan of the Michael Mann film starring Daniel Day Lewis, and so I finally read the original.

But for its time I can see how it was viewed as a masterpiece and can definitely see how so much literature since has been influenced by this story.

Was Hawkeye the original American hero? Independent, resourceful, rugged and casually violent, he may have been the archetype for many literary characters and may have done much to influence American culture as well.

The book is also graphically violent, several scenes could have been lifted from a Cormack McCarthy novel, but Cooper was probably portraying an accurate depiction of a rough time.

View all 7 comments. Mar 10, Jason Koivu rated it it was ok Shelves: don-t-let-me-down-dangit-you-did. Very popular in its time, The Last of the Mohicans is a historical fiction written in the s and set in the s during the French and Indian War in which a small party of British colonists and their Indian guides journey through the upstate New York wilderness defending themselves from their French and Indian enemies.

James Fenimore Cooper brought insight into the lives of the Native Americans in a way seldom seen at a time when the people of these many new world tribes were mostly reviled Very popular in its time, The Last of the Mohicans is a historical fiction written in the s and set in the s during the French and Indian War in which a small party of British colonists and their Indian guides journey through the upstate New York wilderness defending themselves from their French and Indian enemies.

James Fenimore Cooper brought insight into the lives of the Native Americans in a way seldom seen at a time when the people of these many new world tribes were mostly reviled as hostile savages.

Back when it was published The Last of the Mohicans must have seemed revolutionary. Were it tweaked into the non-fiction Cooper half seemed to be trying to write, perhaps it would've succeeded, if it's inaccuracies could've been shorn up, that is.

But it is a fiction and today its formulaic prose does not go down easily for the modern reader. Archaic terms and phrasings aside, Cooper wrote like a grammar robot.

He adheres to English language strictures like a foreigner. His rigid style absolutely takes the joy out of what should be an exciting tale.

And why use one word when five are available? Wordiness digs this poor book's grave ever deeper. The other big problem I had was Cooper's narrative style.

Not only does he feel the need to explain away everything, he forces the explanation into the mouths of his characters at the most ridiculous of times.

Soldiers and scouts constantly chatter away while tracking enemies or hiding from them. By the end it got so unbelievable that I found myself having sarcastic conversations with the characters Yeah," I replied before pausing to ask, "How is it you've survived this long?

I of course scoffed at the mere double! However they then triple-dog dared me, the fiend! Game on View all 16 comments.

Have you ever wondered what life was like during the American frontier era of the early 's, before civilization encroached upon its wildness and beauty?

If so, you might consider reading this first book in Cooper's "Leatherstocking Tales. His life would be be lived on the edge of civilization in the American frontier town of Cooperstown, New York, founded by his father.

I'm not going to say Have you ever wondered what life was like during the American frontier era of the early 's, before civilization encroached upon its wildness and beauty?

I'm not going to say that this book was easy reading, but with a little patience you will learn much of the unspoiled American frontier with Cooper's exact and fascinating descriptions of the flora and fauna.

Until the invention of a time machine, I will have to content myself with Cooper's detailed account of life in the primeval America frontier.

Cooper tells of the harmonious lifestyle of the Native Americans, living off the land and their respect for nature.

I've often wondered what life would be like living off the land in such a manner so I found reading this book a learning experience in that aspect as well.

Cooper's knowledge of the Native American lifestyle and its destruction with the advancement of civilization, is also related in this classic book.

Decimated by disease and intermingling with the white race removed their way of life forever. The noble Chingachgook and his beloved son Uncas, together with his adopted son Natty Bumppo, better known as Hawkeye, are the last pure blood natives of the Mohican nation.

They are making their way to Kentucky to find a wife for young Uncas. Their mission is interrupted by the French and Indian War which will irrevocably change their way of life forever.

As they discover a ravaged frontier settlement with all the inhabitants savagely murdered, they soon learn that their Huron enemies are responsible for this heinous attack.

They continue their journey cautiously and arrive just in time to save a regiment of English soldiers under attack from the Huron nation.

The Hurons under the leadership of Magua have allied themselves with the French army. The English regiment, lead by the tiresome Major Duncan Heywood, along with the Munro sisters, making their way to Fort William Henry and are the only survivors of the Huron assault.

They have no idea that Fort William Henry is under attack, as Hawkeye, Chingachgook and Uncas, attempt to safely deliver the Munro sisters to their father.

From this point onward, this threesome's intrepid attempts to save the Munro sisters from Magua and his Huron warriors will take your breath away.

The end of this sad tale has the ancient Chingachgook the only surviving member of the Mohican nation, which Cooper uses to illustrate the advancement and destruction by civilization upon the primeval American forest and the beauty that once existed.

The tragic Chingachgook will break your heart as he accepts the destruction of his family, tribe and way of life, as the last living member of the Mohican nation.

He patiently looks forward to the day when he will once again rejoin them in the afterlife. Could any fate be more heartrending?

Cooper's classic Leatherstocking tales, consisting of 5 books, relate the adventures of Natty Bumppo, which would become popular in America as well as Europe.

Whether or not you are a fan of historical fiction, I wish you would give this book a chance at least. For those interested, I'm posting a link to the hypnotic soundtrack, which also has a cult following.

View all 51 comments. Dec 06, Duane rated it really liked it Shelves: rated-books , american-classics , historical-fiction , reviewed-books.

Cooper was a prolific writer with something like 40 novels to his credit, most written in the early 19th century. The Last of the Mohicans is his best known work and was popular in America as well as Europe.

It's a frontier adventure story with a hint of romance to it, but Cooper's portrayal of Indians and women in the novel, considered shallow and inaccurate by todays readers, detract from it's image.

My interest in the novel was from an historical viewpoint. It is based loosely on events that Cooper was a prolific writer with something like 40 novels to his credit, most written in the early 19th century.

It is based loosely on events that occurred during the French and Indian War, and provides an insight into the influence of the British and French occupation prior to the Revolutionary War.

Cooper's writing style is somewhat laborious which has kept me from reading any of his other novels.

I gave it 4 stars because of it's significance and position in the history of American Literature.

View 1 comment. Oct 09, Kate rated it did not like it Shelves: american-classics. Plot: 1. Hack your way through the forest.

Get ambushed by Mohicans. Kill a bunch of Mohicans. Hack your way through more forest. There are those damn Mohicans again.

Kill a bunch more Mohicans. Somebody explain to me how this ever got to be a classic. View all 21 comments. This is another famous book that most people only seem to know through the movie version.

While the movie was quite good-the book is truly a wonder. The Fort it's still there and worth visiting was built to control the important inland waterway from New York City to Montreal, and occupied a key forward location on the frontier between Ne This is another famous book that most people only seem to know through the movie version.

The Fort it's still there and worth visiting was built to control the important inland waterway from New York City to Montreal, and occupied a key forward location on the frontier between New York and New France.

If you happen to see the Fort you will notice that Fort William Henry is designed in an irregular square fortification with bastions on the corners, in a design that was intended to repel Indian attacks, but not necessarily withstand attack from an enemy armed with artillery such as the French.

The fort was surrounded on three sides by a dry moat, with the fourth side sloping down to the lake. The only access to the fort was by a bridge across the moat.

It housed about soldiers. In Col. In August of French forces totaling some 8, soldiers, consisting of 3, regulars, 3, militia and nearly 2, Native Americans from various tribes laid siege to the Fort.

Due to the inability or some have deemed it "cowardice" of General Webb in not sending reinforcements, Col Monro had no other recourse than to surrender.

Allowed the full honors of war which means the British can keep their arms and unit colors; the weapons can not be loaded; ammunition must be left behind; they couldn't engage in hostilities with French forces for 18 months and an exchange of prisoners the British marched out of the Fort and were promptly massacred by the Indian forces of the French.

This is something of a black mark for the French commander- Montcalm, who had responsibility for their safety according to the Laws of War.

Sadly, in reality, "Laws" of war tend to be a ridiculous construct of civilians and tend to come into existence post-incident.

But I digress- this book has this event and historical situation as its backdrop. This is the story of the famous Anglo scout Hawkeye and his Mohican companions Chingachook and Uncas father and son.

What follows is a heroic tale of Hawkeye and his companions racing to protect the women and their two British companions. I will not spoil the plot-it is worth reading.

What makes this book shine isn't the plot but rather the background- America when it was a new nation and covered in unexplored, by the British, wilderness.

This world does not exist any more save in these pages of Cooper's magnificent novel. Take a trip to an America of the past and revel in the descriptions of familiar locales that are nothing like what they were in the past.

It is a truly wonderful book that tells an exciting story, yet the setting -the vast American wilderness and the Native Americans who people it are what make this a classic.

Highly recommended to any one that appreciates good literature. View all 6 comments. This quote from Shakespeare seems to state that the book will not show the racist tendencies of the time, but display the different races in equal light.

While writing a historical fiction, being a completely anti-racist novel is not possible but Cooper seems to state with his head note that the color of skin does not matter.

Despite the surface level image of a heroic narrative of Native Americans, Cooper betrays an underline racist agenda, much like the opinions of his own protagonists, which comes through in relationship tension and through the inversion of the native tribes, which played into the racist propaganda of the times increasing tension.

Last of the Mohicans is part of a series which tells the adventures of Hawkeye as the main protagonist. Hawkeye is a white male, who has in a sense, disowned his race and ancestors and lives in the wild with the Mohicans.

Yet while Hawkeye seems to see his race in such a bad light to live out in the wild, he takes extreme pride in being a white male.

During racial arguments, Hawkeye always draws attention to his race, demonstrating that it is of such great importance to his personal identity and something of which others must be made aware of.

It is a method he uses to smooth over the conversation right before be goes into how he is genuine white and above them. No one ever comments on this or corrects Hawkeye of his ways showing that it is not something that he should be ashamed of or in any way wrong.

I find it interesting that instead of saying we, Hawkeye uses the Mohicans and I. He makes a point to separate himself from them.

He is a white man, not a Native American. Also he points out that not only is he white, but he is without a cross. Here I think it can be implied that it means that he is pure white, his bloodline has not been crossed with any other race.

He uses this as a status of power, inserting himself carefully above the Native Americans and those of mixed race.

Is this how Cooper then sees the hierarchy of people, that those with a pure white bloodline are above the rest? That they are better than everyone else?

I believe in a way this is how Cooper feels, if not why would he write a whole series on Hawkeye, allowing him to spew his propaganda about how whites are above all the rest.

Cora the heroin of the story is actually of mixed race decadency, her father is white, and her mother was from the Caribbean.

When Heyward goes to Colonel Munro to ask one of his daughters hand in marriage Munro is shocked and calls Heyward racist for picking his daughter with fair skin instead of his eldest darker skinned daughter.

Near the end of the book I would have guessed that the novel would end happily with Cora and Uncas remaining together despite the fact that Uncas is a Native American and Cora of mixed decadency.

Ultimately, we see the collapse of every character in the love triangle however, love is not lost! Alice and Heyward having both survived the final battle are deeply in love.

Their relationship is allowed to flourish and grow as they both take their experiences back to civilization, leaving the wild, savage forest behind.

Cooper in allowing the relationship of Alice and Heyward to thrive while that of Uncas and Cora is doomed reveals his thoughts on mixed race relationships.

Mixed race relationships or even that between a civilized person and a savage person are doomed to fail.

Tell him, that the Being we all worship, under different names, will be mindful of their charity; and that the time shall not be distant when we may assemble around his throne without distinction of sex, or rank, or color.

Mixed race relationships were greatly frowned upon, even considered illegal in that time. Only a couple of chapters into the book and Cooper already shows his true colors about how he feels about the Native Americans.

There is no redemption for them, they cannot move up the totem pole of class structure, they are born low-class Native Americans and will die that way.

Cooper actually inverts the native tribes in the book from that in history. In historical context the Mohicans were actually the villains and the Iroquois the heroes but that is not the case in the book.

So why did Cooper have this role reversal? While it may seem like an innocent difference it actually has very racial implications.

During this time, the tribe that the country was trying to move was mainly the Iroquois tribe. Here is where we see the propaganda that Cooper displayed.

He makes the Iroquois in the book the villain, which in turn causes people to be less sympathetic of their cause and makes people more likely to support the Native American removal.

My day has been too long. This is the solution Cooper paints to the Native American removal and shows his support to the cause.

They should want to leave. They no longer have a key influence to the making of the world. The Native American tribes should just move on and do what the white man says for they no longer have a place in history.

Cooper allows the racism of the current time seep through as propaganda in the book and destroying any anti-racist plot that he tried to display in his novel.

View all 27 comments. Jul 03, Ghoulchick rated it did not like it. Man alive, I hated that book. Again, I procrastinated and tried to jam the whole book into one weekend, since I had an oral book review due on Monday for history or social studies or something.

God, why can't I even remember the name of the class? Full Cast and Crew. Release Dates. Official Sites. Company Credits. Technical Specs.

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Metacritic Reviews. Photo Gallery. Trailers and Videos. Crazy Credits. Alternate Versions. Rate This. Director: Michael Mann. Available on Amazon.

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Hawkeye Nathaniel Poe Madeleine Stowe Cora Munro Russell Means Chingachgook Eric Schweig Uncas Jodhi May Alice Munro Steven Waddington Duncan Heyward Wes Studi Gen Montcalm Edward Blatchford Jack Winthrop Terry Kinney John Cameron Tracey Ellis Alexandra Cameron Justin M.

James Cameron Dennis Banks Ongewasgone Pete Postlethwaite Learn more More Like This. My Left Foot Biography Drama.

Lincoln Biography Drama History. The Boxer Drama Romance Sport. In the Name of the Father No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won't all do, having suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women—but when they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a warrior!

You have not yet answered my question; what is our distance from the main army at Edward? One would think such a horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down.

It is not every man who can speak the English tongue that is an honest subject. He is over young, too, to hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant gentleman!

The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then lifting his cap, he answered, in a tone less confident than before—though still expressing doubt.

After shoving aside the bushes, and proceeding a few paces, he encountered the females, who awaited the result of the conference with anxiety, and not entirely without apprehension.

Behind these, the runner leaned against a tree, where he stood the close examination of the scout with an air unmoved, though with a look so dark and savage, that it might in itself excite fear.

Satisfied with his scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed the females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, answering to the smile and nod of Alice with a look of open pleasure.

Thence he went to the side of the motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook his head and returned to Heyward.

They are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a few more miles. They are full of outlying Iroquois, and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too well to be my companion.

It was because I suspected him that I would follow no longer; making him, as you see, follow me. If I should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and be dodging through the trees like a frightened deer.

He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention of maiming the runner, mused a moment, and then made a gesture, which instantly brought his two red companions to his side.

They spoke together earnestly in the Delaware language, though in an undertone; and by the gestures of the white man, which were frequently directed towards the top of the sapling, it was evident he pointed out the situation of their hidden enemy.

His companions were not long in comprehending his wishes, and laying aside their firearms, they parted, taking opposite sides of the path, and burying themselves in the thicket, with such cautious movements, that their steps were inaudible.

Whoever comes into the woods to deal with the natives, must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to prosper in his undertakings.

Go, then; talk openly to the miscreant, and seem to believe him the truest friend you have on 'arth. Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong disgust at the nature of the office he was compelled to execute.

Each moment, however, pressed upon him a conviction of the critical situation in which he had suffered his invaluable trust to be involved through his own confidence.

Stimulated by apprehension, he left the scout, who immediately entered into a loud conversation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously enlisted himself in the party of travelers that morning.

In passing his gentler companions Heyward uttered a few words of encouragement, and was pleased to find that, though fatigued with the exercise of the day, they appeared to entertain no suspicion that their present embarrassment was other than the result of accident.

Giving them reason to believe he was merely employed in a consultation concerning the future route, he spurred his charger, and drew the reins again when the animal had carried him within a few yards of the place where the sullen runner still stood, leaning against the tree.

But, happily, we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking to the singer, that is acquainted with the deerpaths and by-ways of the woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely till the morning.

Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be one? They will make him petticoats, and bid him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted with the business of a man.

Why should there be bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another.

Rest your weary limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women.

When the ladies are refreshed we will proceed. The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open countenance of Heyward, but meeting his glance, he turned them quickly away, and seating himself deliberately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of some former repast, and began to eat, though not without first bending his looks slowly and cautiously around him.

The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his nostrils expanded, and his ears seemed even to stand more erect than usual, giving to him the appearance of a statue that was made to represent intense attention.

Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant eye, carelessly extricated one of his feet from the stirrup, while he passed a hand toward the bear-skin covering of his holsters.

Every effort to detect the point most regarded by the runner was completely frustrated by the tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest a single instant on any particular object, and which, at the same time, could be hardly said to move.

While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and guarded, that not the slightest noise was produced by the change.

Heyward felt it had now become incumbent on him to act. Throwing his leg over the saddle, he dismounted, with a determination to advance and seize his treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own manhood.

In order, however, to prevent unnecessary alarm, he still preserved an air of calmness and friendship. Let me examine; perhaps something may be found among my own provisions that will help his appetite.

Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. He even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude of attention.

But when he felt the fingers of Heyward moving gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the young man, and, uttering a piercing cry, he darted beneath it, and plunged, at a single bound, into the opposite thicket.

At the next instant the form of Chingachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a specter in its paint, and glided across the path in swift pursuit.

Next followed the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash, that was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's rifle.

The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild cries of the pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a few moments, in inactive surprise.

Then recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend his aid in the chase.

Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards, he met the three foresters already returning from their unsuccessful pursuit.

We are not safe while he goes at large. Look at this sumach; its leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow blossom in the month of July!

A rifle bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away.

But when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly, a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be it deer!

It was an unthoughtful act in a man who has so often slept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece within sound of an ambushment!

But then it was a natural temptation! Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such fashion, too, as will throw the cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent, or our scalps will be drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee, ag'in this hour to-morrow.

This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered with the cool assurance of a man who fully comprehended, while he did not fear to face the danger, served to remind Heyward of the importance of the charge with which he himself had been intrusted.

Glancing his eyes around, with a vain effort to pierce the gloom that was thickening beneath the leafy arches of the forest, he felt as if, cut off from human aid, his unresisting companions would soon lie at the entire mercy of those barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey, only waited till the gathering darkness might render their blows more fatally certain.

His awakened imagination, deluded by the deceptive light, converted each waving bush, or the fragment of some fallen tree, into human forms, and twenty times he fancied he could distinguish the horrid visages of his lurking foes, peering from their hiding places, in never ceasing watchfulness of the movements of his party.

Looking upward, he found that the thin fleecy clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky, were already losing their faintest tints of rose-color, while the imbedded stream, which glided past the spot where he stood, was to be traced only by the dark boundary of its wooded banks.

His companions, who conversed apart in the language of their tribe, heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal. Though their dialogue was maintained in low and cautious sounds, but little above a whisper, Heyward, who now approached, could easily distinguish the earnest tones of the younger warrior from the more deliberate speeches of his seniors.

It was evident that they debated on the propriety of some measure, that nearly concerned the welfare of the travelers.

Yielding to his powerful interest in the subject, and impatient of a delay that seemed fraught with so much additional danger, Heyward drew still nigher to the dusky group, with an intention of making his offers of compensation more definite, when the white man, motioning with his hand, as if he conceded the disputed point, turned away, saying in a sort of soliloquy, and in the English tongue:.

If you would save these tender blossoms from the fangs of the worst of serpents, gentleman, you have neither time to lose nor resolution to throw away!

These Mohicans and I will do what man's thoughts can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet, were never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that without hope of any other recompense but such as God always gives to upright dealings.

First, you must promise two things, both in your own name and for your friends, or without serving you we shall only injure ourselves!

Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of the scout, through the increasing shadows of the evening, and he moved in his footsteps, swiftly, toward the place where he had left the remainder of the party.

When they rejoined the expecting and anxious females, he briefly acquainted them with the conditions of their new guide, and with the necessity that existed for their hushing every apprehension in instant and serious exertions.

Although his alarming communication was not received without much secret terror by the listeners, his earnest and impressive manner, aided perhaps by the nature of the danger, succeeded in bracing their nerves to undergo some unlooked-for and unusual trial.

Silently, and without a moment's delay, they permitted him to assist them from their saddles, and when they descended quickly to the water's edge, where the scout had collected the rest of the party, more by the agency of expressive gestures than by any use of words.

Ay, ay, that will blind their fireballs of eyes! If you speak again, I shall leave you to the mercy of the Maquas!

Draw to your arrow's head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows. The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice were still audible, when the wounded foal, first rearing on its hinder legs, plunged forward to its knees.

It was met by Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its throat quicker than thought, and then precipitating the motions of the struggling victim, he dashed into the river, down whose stream it glided away, gasping audibly for breath with its ebbing life.

This deed of apparent cruelty, but of real necessity, fell upon the spirits of the travelers like a terrific warning of the peril in which they stood, heightened as it was by the calm though steady resolution of the actors in the scene.

The sisters shuddered and clung closer to each other, while Heyward instinctively laid his hand on one of the pistols he had just drawn from their holsters, as he placed himself between his charge and those dense shadows that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil before the bosom of the forest.

The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but taking the bridles, they led the frightened and reluctant horses into the bed of the river.

At a short distance from the shore they turned, and were soon concealed by the projection of the bank, under the brow of which they moved, in a direction opposite to the course of the waters.

In the meantime, the scout drew a canoe of bark from its place of concealment beneath some low bushes, whose branches were waving with the eddies of the current, into which he silently motioned for the females to enter.

They complied without hesitation, though many a fearful and anxious glance was thrown behind them, toward the thickening gloom, which now lay like a dark barrier along the margin of the stream.

So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, without regarding the element, directed Heyward to support one side of the frail vessel, and posting himself at the other, they bore it up against the stream, followed by the dejected owner of the dead foal.

In this manner they proceeded, for many rods, in a silence that was only interrupted by the rippling of the water, as its eddies played around them, or the low dash made by their own cautious footsteps.

Heyward yielded the guidance of the canoe implicitly to the scout, who approached or receded from the shore, to avoid the fragments of rocks, or deeper parts of the river, with a readiness that showed his knowledge of the route they held.

Occasionally he would stop; and in the midst of a breathing stillness, that the dull but increasing roar of the waterfall only served to render more impressive, he would listen with painful intenseness, to catch any sounds that might arise from the slumbering forest.

When assured that all was still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his practiced senses, any sign of his approaching foes, he would deliberately resume his slow and guarded progress.

At length they reached a point in the river where the roving eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of black objects, collected at a spot where the high bank threw a deeper shadow than usual on the dark waters.

Hesitating to advance, he pointed out the place to the attention of his companion. Water leaves no trail, and an owl's eyes would be blinded by the darkness of such a hole.

The whole party was soon reunited, and another consultation was held between the scout and his new comrades, during which, they, whose fates depended on the faith and ingenuity of these unknown foresters, had a little leisure to observe their situation more minutely.

The river was confined between high and cragged rocks, one of which impended above the spot where the canoe rested.

As these, again, were surmounted by tall trees, which appeared to totter on the brows of the precipice, it gave the stream the appearance of running through a deep and narrow dell.

All beneath the fantastic limbs and ragged tree tops, which were, here and there, dimly painted against the starry zenith, lay alike in shadowed obscurity.

Behind them, the curvature of the banks soon bounded the view by the same dark and wooded outline; but in front, and apparently at no great distance, the water seemed piled against the heavens, whence it tumbled into caverns, out of which issued those sullen sounds that had loaded the evening atmosphere.

It seemed, in truth, to be a spot devoted to seclusion, and the sisters imbibed a soothing impression of security, as they gazed upon its romantic though not unappalling beauties.

A general movement among their conductors, however, soon recalled them from a contemplation of the wild charms that night had assisted to lend the place to a painful sense of their real peril.

The horses had been secured to some scattering shrubs that grew in the fissures of the rocks, where, standing in the water, they were left to pass the night.

The scout directed Heyward and his disconsolate fellow travelers to seat themselves in the forward end of the canoe, and took possession of the other himself, as erect and steady as if he floated in a vessel of much firmer materials.

The Indians warily retraced their steps toward the place they had left, when the scout, placing his pole against a rock, by a powerful shove, sent his frail bark directly into the turbulent stream.

For many minutes the struggle between the light bubble in which they floated and the swift current was severe and doubtful.

Forbidden to stir even a hand, and almost afraid to breath, lest they should expose the frail fabric to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched the glancing waters in feverish suspense.

Twenty times they thought the whirling eddies were sweeping them to destruction, when the master-hand of their pilot would bring the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid.

A long, a vigorous, and, as it appeared to the females, a desperate effort, closed the struggle.

Just as Alice veiled her eyes in horror, under the impression that they were about to be swept within the vortex at the foot of the cataract, the canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a flat rock, that lay on a level with the water.

There, go you all on the rock, and I will bring up the Mohicans with the venison. A man had better sleep without his scalp, than famish in the midst of plenty.

His passengers gladly complied with these directions. As the last foot touched the rock, the canoe whirled from its station, when the tall form of the scout was seen, for an instant, gliding above the waters, before it disappeared in the impenetrable darkness that rested on the bed of the river.

Left by their guide, the travelers remained a few minutes in helpless ignorance, afraid even to move along the broken rocks, lest a false step should precipitate them down some one of the many deep and roaring caverns, into which the water seemed to tumble, on every side of them.

Their suspense, however, was soon relieved; for, aided by the skill of the natives, the canoe shot back into the eddy, and floated again at the side of the low rock, before they thought the scout had even time to rejoin his companions.

How, now, my vigilant sentinel, can see anything of those you call the Iroquois, on the main land! If Webb wants faith and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of the Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature they belong, among the French!

I have heard that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet, and are content to be called women! But I have known them for twenty years, and I call him liar that says cowardly blood runs in the veins of a Delaware.

You have driven their tribes from the seashore, and would now believe what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night upon an easy pillow.

Heyward, perceiving that the stubborn adherence of the scout to the cause of his friends the Delawares, or Mohicans, for they were branches of the same numerous people, was likely to prolong a useless discussion, changed the subject.

I will not deny, however, but the horses cowered when I passed them, as though they scented the wolves; and a wolf is a beast that is apt to hover about an Indian ambushment, craving the offals of the deer the savages kill.

He has the religion of the matter, in believing what is to happen will happen; and with such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits to the rationality of killing a four-footed beast to save the lives of human men.

Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough at understanding the reason of a wolf's howl.

The scout, while making his remarks, was busied in collecting certain necessary implements; as he concluded, he moved silently by the group of travelers, accompanied by the Mohicans, who seemed to comprehend his intentions with instinctive readiness, when the whole three disappeared in succession, seeming to vanish against the dark face of a perpendicular rock that rose to the height of a few yards, within as many feet of the water's edge.

Heyward and his female companions witnessed this mysterious movement with secret uneasiness; for, though the conduct of the white man had hitherto been above reproach, his rude equipments, blunt address, and strong antipathies, together with the character of his silent associates, were all causes for exciting distrust in minds that had been so recently alarmed by Indian treachery.

The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. He seated himself on a projection of the rocks, whence he gave no other signs of consciousness than by the struggles of his spirit, as manifested in frequent and heavy sighs.

Smothered voices were next heard, as though men called to each other in the bowels of the earth, when a sudden light flashed upon those without, and laid bare the much-prized secret of the place.

At the further extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in the rock, whose length appeared much extended by the perspective and the nature of the light by which it was seen, was seated the scout, holding a blazing knot of pine.

The strong glare of the fire fell full upon his sturdy, weather-beaten countenance and forest attire, lending an air of romantic wildness to the aspect of an individual, who, seen by the sober light of day, would have exhibited the peculiarities of a man remarkable for the strangeness of his dress, the iron-like inflexibility of his frame, and the singular compound of quick, vigilant sagacity, and of exquisite simplicity, that by turns usurped the possession of his muscular features.

At a little distance in advance stood Uncas, his whole person thrown powerfully into view. The travelers anxiously regarded the upright, flexible figure of the young Mohican, graceful and unrestrained in the attitudes and movements of nature.

Though his person was more than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting-shirt, like that of the white man, there was no concealment to his dark, glancing, fearless eye, alike terrible and calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty features, pure in their native red; or to the dignified elevation of his receding forehead, together with all the finest proportions of a noble head, bared to the generous scalping tuft.

It was the first opportunity possessed by Duncan and his companions to view the marked lineaments of either of their Indian attendants, and each individual of the party felt relieved from a burden of doubt, as the proud and determined, though wild expression of the features of the young warrior forced itself on their notice.

They felt it might be a being partially benighted in the vale of ignorance, but it could not be one who would willingly devote his rich natural gifts to the purposes of wanton treachery.

The ingenuous Alice gazed at his free air and proud carriage, as she would have looked upon some precious relic of the Grecian chisel, to which life had been imparted by the intervention of a miracle; while Heyward, though accustomed to see the perfection of form which abounds among the uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his admiration at such an unblemished specimen of the noblest proportions of man.

Surely, Duncan, those cruel murders, those terrific scenes of torture, of which we read and hear so much, are never acted in the presence of such as he!

As bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon among Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the Indians; though, for the honor of our common nature, neither are incapable of producing them.

Let us then hope that this Mohican may not disappoint our wishes, but prove what his looks assert him to be, a brave and constant friend. A short and apparently an embarrassed silence succeeded this remark, which was interrupted by the scout calling to them, aloud, to enter.

Uncas, drop the blanket, and show the knaves its dark side. Here, you see, we have plenty of salt, and can make a quick broil.

There's fresh sassafras boughs for the ladies to sit on, which may not be as proud as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which sends up a sweeter flavor, than the skin of any hog can do, be it of Guinea, or be it of any other land.

Come, friend, don't be mournful for the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much hardship. Its death will save the creature many a sore back and weary foot!

Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the voice of Hawkeye ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder.

A single armed man, at its entrance, would hold us at his mercy. A spectral-looking figure stalked from out of the darkness behind the scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held it toward the further extremity of their place of retreat.

Alice uttered a faint shriek, and even Cora rose to her feet, as this appalling object moved into the light; but a single word from Heyward calmed them, with the assurance it was only their attendant, Chingachgook, who, lifting another blanket, discovered that the cavern had two outlets.

Then, holding the brand, he crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the rocks which ran at right angles with the passage they were in, but which, unlike that, was open to the heavens, and entered another cave, answering to the description of the first, in every essential particular.

But old age is a great injury to good looks, as these sweet young ladies have yet to l'arn! The place is sadly changed! These rocks are full of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet, breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have neither shape nor consistency.

The rock proved softer on each side of us, and so they left the center of the river bare and dry, first working out these two little holes for us to hide in.

If you had daylight, it would be worth the trouble to step up on the height of this rock, and look at the perversity of the water. It falls by no rule at all; sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tumbles; there it skips; here it shoots; in one place 'tis white as snow, and in another 'tis green as grass; hereabouts, it pitches into deep hollows, that rumble and crush the 'arth; and thereaways, it ripples and sings like a brook, fashioning whirlpools and gullies in the old stone, as if 'twas no harder than trodden clay.

The whole design of the river seems disconcerted. First it runs smoothly, as if meaning to go down the descent as things were ordered; then it angles about and faces the shores; nor are there places wanting where it looks backward, as if unwilling to leave the wilderness, to mingle with the salt.

Ay, lady, the fine cobweb-looking cloth you wear at your throat is coarse, and like a fishnet, to little spots I can show you, where the river fabricates all sorts of images, as if having broke loose from order, it would try its hand at everything.

And yet what does it amount to! After the water has been suffered so to have its will, for a time, like a headstrong man, it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily toward the sea, as was foreordained from the first foundation of the 'arth!

But they were not in a situation to suffer their thoughts to dwell on the charms of natural objects; and, as the scout had not found it necessary to cease his culinary labors while he spoke, unless to point out, with a broken fork, the direction of some particularly obnoxious point in the rebellious stream, they now suffered their attention to be drawn to the necessary though more vulgar consideration of their supper.

The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition of a few delicacies that Heyward had the precaution to bring with him when they left their horses, was exceedingly refreshing to the weary party.

Uncas acted as attendant to the females, performing all the little offices within his power, with a mixture of dignity and anxious grace, that served to amuse Heyward, who well knew that it was an utter innovation on the Indian customs, which forbid their warriors to descend to any menial employment, especially in favor of their women.

As the rights of hospitality were, however, considered sacred among them, this little departure from the dignity of manhood excited no audible comment.

Had there been one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close observer, he might have fancied that the services of the young chief were not entirely impartial.

That while he tendered to Alice the gourd of sweet water, and the venison in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of the pepperidge, with sufficient courtesy, in performing the same offices to her sister, his dark eye lingered on her rich, speaking countenance.

Once or twice he was compelled to speak, to command her attention of those he served. In such cases he made use of English, broken and imperfect, but sufficiently intelligible, and which he rendered so mild and musical, by his deep, guttural voice, that it never failed to cause both ladies to look up in admiration and astonishment.

In the course of these civilities, a few sentences were exchanged, that served to establish the appearance of an amicable intercourse between the parties.

In the meanwhile, the gravity of Chingcachgook remained immovable. He had seated himself more within the circle of light, where the frequent, uneasy glances of his guests were better enabled to separate the natural expression of his face from the artificial terrors of the war paint.

They found a strong resemblance between father and son, with the difference that might be expected from age and hardships.

The fierceness of his countenance now seemed to slumber, and in its place was to be seen the quiet, vacant composure which distinguishes an Indian warrior, when his faculties are not required for any of the greater purposes of his existence.

It was, however, easy to be seen, by the occasional gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that it was only necessary to arouse his passions, in order to give full effect to the terrific device which he had adopted to intimidate his enemies.

On the other hand, the quick, roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, but his vigilance seemed never to desert him.

Twenty times the gourd or the venison was suspended before his lips, while his head was turned aside, as though he listened to some distant and distrusted sounds—a movement that never failed to recall his guests from regarding the novelties of their situation, to a recollection of the alarming reasons that had driven them to seek it.

As these frequent pauses were never followed by any remark, the momentary uneasiness they created quickly passed away, and for a time was forgotten.

I drink to our better friendship, hoping that a little horse-flesh may leave no heart-burnings atween us. How do you name yourself?

I'm an admirator of names, though the Christian fashions fall far below savage customs in this particular.

The biggest coward I ever knew as called Lyon; and his wife, Patience, would scold you out of hearing in less time than a hunted deer would run a rod.

With an Indian 'tis a matter of conscience; what he calls himself, he generally is—not that Chingachgook, which signifies Big Sarpent, is really a snake, big or little; but that he understands the windings and turnings of human natur', and is silent, and strikes his enemies when they least expect him.

What may be your calling? The young hounds go laughing and singing too much already through the woods, when they ought not to breathe louder than a fox in his cover.

Can you use the smoothbore, or handle the rifle?

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