dignity that instantly
arrested the attention even of those to whom his words were
unintelligible. His gestures were impressive, and at times energetic.
Once he lifted his arm on high; and as it descended, the action threw
aside the folds of his light mantle, a finger resting on his breast, as
if he would enforce his meaning by the attitude. Duncan's eyes followed
the movement, and he perceived that the animal just mentioned was
beautifully, though faintly, worked in a blue tint, on the swarthy
breast of the chief. All that he had ever heard of the violent
separation of the vast tribes of the Delawares rushed across his mind,
and he awaited the proper moment to speak, with a suspense that was
rendered nearly intolerable, by his interest in the stake. His wish,
however, was anticipated by the scout, who turned from his red friend,
saying--

"We have found that which may be good or evil to us, as Heaven disposes.
The Sagamore is of the high blood of the Delawares, and is the great
chief of their Tortoises! That some of this stock are among the people
of whom the singer tells us, is plain, by his words; and had he but
spent half the breath in prudent questions, that he has blown away in
making a trumpet of his throat, we might have known how many warriors
they numbered. It is, altogether, a dangerous path we move in; for a
friend whose face is turned from you often bears a bloodier mind than
the enemy who seeks your scalp."

"Explain," said Duncan.

"'Tis a long and melancholy tradition, and one I little like to think
of; for it is not to be denied, that the evil has been mainly done by
men with white skins. But it has ended in turning the tomahawk of
brother against brother, and brought the Mingo and the Delaware to
travel in the same path."

"You then suspect it is a portion of that people among whom Cora
resides?"

The scout nodded his head in assent, though he seemed anxious to waive
the further discussion of a subject that appeared painful. The impatient
Duncan now made several hasty and desperate propositions to attempt the
release of the sisters. Munro seemed to shake off his apathy, and
listened to the wild schemes of the young man with a deference that his
gray hairs and reverend years should have denied. But the scout, after
suffering the ardor of the lover to expend itself a little, found means
to convince him of the folly of precipitation, in a matter that would
require their coolest judgment and utmost