the place where Chingachgook had just disappeared. For an instant he hung suspended by the rock; and looking about him, with a countenance of peculiar care, he added, bitterly, "Had the powder held out, this disgrace could never have befallen!" then, loosening his hold, the water closed above his head, and he also became lost to view.
All eyes were now turned on Uncas, who stood leaning against the ragged rock, in immoveable composure. After waiting a short time, Cora pointed down the river, and said—
"Your friends, as you perceive, have not been seen, and are now, most probably, in safety; is it not time for you to follow?"
"Uncas will stay," the young Mohican calmly answered, in his imperfect English.
"To increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the chances of our release! Go, generous young man," Cora continued, lowering her eyes under the ardent gaze of the Mohican, and, perhaps, with an intuitive consciousness of her power; "go to