At first, the language, as well as the action of Magua, appeared calm and deliberative. When he had
succeeded in sufficiently awakening the attention of his comrades, Heyward fancied, by his pointing so
frequently toward the direction of the great lakes, that he spoke of the land of their fathers, and of their
distant tribe. Frequent indications of applause escaped the listeners, who, as they uttered the expressive
Hugh! looked at each other in commendation of the speaker. Le Renard was too skillful to neglect his
advantage. He now spoke of the long and painful route by which they had left those spacious grounds
and happy villages, to come and battle against the enemies of their Canadian fathers. He enumerated
the warriors of the party; their several merits; their frequent services to the nation; their wounds, and the
number of the scalps they had taken. Whenever he alluded to any present (and the subtle Indian neglected
none), the dark countenance of the flattered individual gleamed with exultation, nor did he even hesitate
to assert the truth of the words, by gestures of applause and confirmation. Then the voice of the speaker
fell, and lost the loud, animated tones of triumph with which he had enumerated their deeds of success
and victory. He described the cataract of Glenn's; the impregnable position of its rocky island, with its
caverns and its numerous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of La Longue Carabine, and paused
until the forest beneath them had sent up the last echo of a loud and long yell, with which the hated
appellation was received. He pointed toward the youthful military captive, and described the death of a
favorite warrior, who had been precipitated into the deep ravine by his hand. He not only mentioned the
fate of him who, hanging between heaven and earth, had presented such a spectacle of horror to the
whole band, but he acted anew the terrors of his situation, his resolution and his death, on the branches
of a sapling; and, finally, he rapidly recounted the manner in which each of their friends had fallen, never
failing to touch upon their courage, and their most acknowledged virtues. When this recital of events
was ended, his voice once more changed, and became plaintive and even musical, in its low guttural
sounds. He now spoke of the wives and children of the slain; their destitution; their misery, both physical
and moral; their distance; and, at last, of their unavenged wrongs. Then suddenly lifting his voice to a
pitch of terrific energy, he concluded by demanding:
Are the Hurons dogs to bear this? Who shall say to the wife of Menowgua that the fishes have his scalp,
and that his nation have not taken revenge! Who will dare meet the mother of Wassawattimie, that scornful
woman, with his hands clean! What shall be said to the old men when they ask us for scalps, and we
have not a hair from a white head to give them! The women will point their fingers at us. There is a
dark spot on the names of the Hurons, and it must be hid in blood! His voice was no longer audible in
the burst of rage which now broke into the air, as if the wood, instead of containing so small a band,
was filled with the nation. During the foregoing address the progress of the speaker was too plainly
read by those most interested in his success through the medium of the countenances of the men he
addressed. They had answered his melancholy and mourning by sympathy and sorrow; his assertions,
by gestures of confirmation; and his boasting, with the exultation of savages. When he spoke of courage,
their looks were firm and responsive; when he alluded to their injuries, their eyes kindled with fury; when
he mentioned the taunts of the women, they dropped their heads in shame; but when he pointed out
their 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