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Updated: June 12, 2025
In the midst of the awful stillness with which such a burst of feeling, coming, as it did, from the two most renowned warriors of that region, was received, Tamenund lifted his voice to disperse the multitude. "It is enough," he said. "Go, children of the Lenape, the anger of the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay?
Does not the egg become a worm the worm a fly, and perish? Why tell the Delawares of good that is past? Better thank the Manitou for that which remains." "It is a Wyandot," said Magua, stepping nigher to the rude platform on which the other stood; "a friend of Tamenund."
Go, Huron, ask your squaws the color of a bear." "The stranger and white maiden that come into my camp together?" "Should journey on an open path." "And the woman that Huron left with my warriors?" Uncas made no reply. "And the woman that the Mingo has brought into my camp?" repeated Tamenund, gravely. "She is mine," cried Magua, shaking his hand in triumph at Uncas.
"Uncas, the son of Chingachgook," answered the captive modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his head in reverence to the other's character and years; "a son of the great Unamis." "The hour of Tamenund is nigh!" exclaimed the sage; "the day is come, at last, to the night! I thank the Manitou, that one is here to fill my place at the council-fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas, is found!
The scout was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture on his own fatal and avenging weapon; while Tamenund, supported by the elders of his nation, occupied a high place at hand, whence he might look down on the mute and sorrowful assemblage of his people.
Uncas, however, looking in his face with the fondness and veneration of a favored child, presumed on his own high and acknowledged rank, to reply. "Four warriors of his race have lived, and died," he said, "since the friend of Tamenund led his people in battle.
Though not an eye was turned towards him, nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it was apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated their heads to listen, that they drank in the sounds with an intenseness of attention, that none but Tamenund himself had ever before commanded. But they listened in vain.
He is of the family of the great chiefs; Uncas, his father, having been the considerablest warrior and counsellor of his people. Even old Tamenund honors Chingachgook, though he is thought to be yet too young to lead in war; and then the nation is so disparsed and diminished, that chieftainship among 'em has got to be little more than a name.
The task might probably have been more difficult, had not a movement made by Tamenund indicated that he was again about to speak. "Delaware!" resumed the sage, "little art thou worthy of thy name. My people have not seen a bright sun in many winters; and the warrior who deserts his tribe when hid in clouds is doubly a traitor. The law of the Manitou is just.
What fire that a Delaware can light would burn the child of my fathers," he added, pointing proudly to the simple blazonry on his skin; "the blood that came from such a stock would smother your flames! My race is the grandfather of nations!" "Who art thou?" demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling tones he heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the language of the prisoner.
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