made ready for war,
with all the grim and terrifying ceremonies of their race. As hour after
hour slipped by, the savage spirit of the tribe increased in fury. Uncas
alone remained unmoved. Standing in the midst of the now maddened
savages, he kept his eyes fixed upon the declining sun. It dipped
beneath the horizon; at once the whole encampment was broken up, and the
warriors rushed down the trail which Magua had followed.

As soon as they came in touch with the enemy, a desperate and bloody
battle was fought. Under the leadership of the two Mohicans and
Hawk-eye, victory swayed to the side of the Tortoises. Huron after Huron
fell, until only Magua and two companions were left. Then, with a yell,
Le Renard Subtil rushed from the field of battle, and, seizing Cora, ran
up a steep defile towards the mountains. On the side of the precipice
Cora refused to move any farther.

"Woman!" cried Magua, raising his knife, "choose--the wigwam or the
knife of Le Subtil?"

Cora neither heard nor heeded his demands. Magua trembled in every
fibre. He raised his arm on high. Just then a piercing cry was heard
from above, and Uncas leapt frantically from a fearful height upon the
ledge on which they stood. He fell prostrate for a moment. As he lay
there, Magua plunged his knife into his back, and at the same moment one
of the other Indians stretched Cora lifeless. With the last effort of
his strength Uncas rose to his feet, and hurled Cora's murderer into the
abyss below. Then, with a stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil
and indicated with the expression of his eye all that he would do had
not the power deserted him, Magua seized his nerveless arm and stretched
him dead by passing his dagger several times through his body.

"Mercy!" cried Heyward from above. "Give mercy, and thou shalt receive
it!"

For answer, Magua raised a shout of triumph, and, leaping a wide
fissure, made for the summit of the mountain. A single bound would carry
him to the brow of the precipice and assure his safety. Before taking
the leap he shook his hand defiantly at Hawk-eye, who waited with his
rifle raised.

"The pale faces are dogs! The Delawares women! Magua leaves them on the
rocks for the crows!"

Making a desperate leap, and falling short of his mark, Magua saved
himself by grasping some shrub on the verge of the height. With an
effort he pulled himself up. Hawk-eye, whose rifle shook with suppressed
excitement, watched him closely. A