ue 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 practise of centuries. Some sought knots, to
raise the blazing pile; one was riving the splinters of pine, in order
to pierce the flesh of their captives with the burning fragments; and
others bent the tops of two saplings to the earth, in order to suspend
Heyward by the arms between the recoiling branches. But the vengeance of
Magua sought a deeper and more malignant enjoyment.

While the less refined monsters of the band prepared, before the eyes of
those who were to suffer, these well-known and vulgar means of torture,
he approached Cora, and pointed out, with the most malign expression of
countenance, the speedy fate that awaited her:

"Ha!" he added, "what says the daughter of Munro? Her head is too good
to find a pillow in the wigwam of Le Renard; will she like it better
when it rolls about this hill a plaything for the wolves? Her bosom
cannot nurse the children of a Huron; she will see it spit upon by
Indians!"

"What means the monster!" demanded the astonished Heyward.

"Nothing!" was the firm reply. "He is a savage, a barbarous and ignorant
savage, and knows not what he does. Let us find leisure, with our dying
breath, to ask for him penitence and pardon."

"Pardon!" echoed the fierce Huron, mistaking in his anger, the meaning
of her words; "the memory of an Indian is no longer than the arm of the
pale faces; his mercy shorter than their justice! Say; shall I send the
yellow hair to her father, and will you follow Magua to the great lakes,
to carry his water, and feed him with corn?"

Cora beckoned him away, with an emotion of disgust she could not
control.

"Leave me," she said, with a solemnity that for a moment checked the
barbarity of the Indian; "you mingle bitterness in my prayers; you stand
between me and my God!"

The slight impression produced on the savage was, however, soon
forgotten, and he continued pointing, with taunting irony, toward Alice.

"Look! the child weeps! She is too young to die! Send her to Munro, to
comb his gray hairs, and keep life in the heart of the old man."

Cora could not resi