r means of vengeance, he
struck a chord which never failed to thrill in the breast of an Indian.
With the first intimation that it was within their reach, the whole band
sprang upon their feet as one man; giving utterance to their rage in the
most frantic cries, they rushed upon their prisoners in a body with
drawn knives and uplifted tomahawks. Heyward threw himself between the
sisters and the foremost, whom he grappled with a desperate strength
that for a moment checked his violence. This unexpected resistance gave
Magua time to interpose, and with rapid enunciation and animated
gesture, he drew the attention of the band again to himself. In that
language he knew so well how to assume, he diverted his comrades from
their instant purpose, and invited them to prolong the misery of their
victims. His proposal was received with acclamations, and executed with
the swiftness of thought.

Two powerful warriors cast themselves on Heyward, while another was
occupied in securing the less active singing-master. Neither of the
captives, however, submitted without a desperate though fruitless
struggle. Even David hurled his assailant to the earth; nor was Heyward
secured until the victory over his companion enabled the Indians to
direct their united force to that object. He was then bound and fastened
to the body of the sapling, on whose branches Magua had acted the
pantomime of the falling Huron. When the young soldier regained his
recollection, he had the painful certainty before his eyes that a common
fate was intended for the whole party. On his right was Cora, in a
durance similar to his own, pale and agitated, but with an eye, whose
steady look still read the proceedings of their enemies. On his left,
the withes which bound her to a pine, performed that office for Alice
which her trembling limbs refused, and alone kept her fragile form from
sinking. Her hands were clasped before her in prayer, but instead of
looking upwards towards that power which alone could rescue them, her
unconscious looks wandered to the countenance of Duncan with infantile
dependency. David had contended, and the novelty of the circumstance
held him silent, in deliberation on the propriety of the unusual
occurrence.

The vengeance of the Hurons had now taken a new direction, and they
prepared to execute it with that barbarous ingenuity with which they
were familiarized by the practice of centuries. Some sought knots, to
raise the blazing pile; one w