he was, had not yet
dreamed of deserting his trust, "it is the jubilee of the devils, and
this is not a meet place for Christians to tarry in. Let us up and fly."

"Go," said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister; "save thyself.
To me thou canst not be of further use."

David comprehended the unyielding character of her resolution, by the
simple but expressive gesture that accompanied her words. He gazed for a
moment at the dusky forms that were acting their hellish rites on every
side of him, and his tall person grew more erect while his chest heaved,
and every feature swelled, and seemed to speak with the power of the
feelings by which he was governed.

"If the Jewish boy might tame the great spirit of Saul by the sound of
his harp, and the words of sacred song, it may not be amiss," he said,
"to try the potency of music here."

Then raising his voice to its highest tone, he poured out a strain so
powerful as to be heard even amid the din of that bloody field. More
than one savage rushed toward them, thinking to rifle the unprotected
sisters of their attire, and bear away their scalps; but when they found
this strange and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused to
listen. Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they passed on to
other and less courageous victims, openly expressing their satisfaction
at the firmness with which the white warrior sang his death song.
Encouraged and deluded by his success, David exerted all his powers to
extend what he believed so holy an influence. The unwonted sounds caught
the ears of a distant savage, who flew raging from group to group, like
one who, scorning to touch the vulgar herd, hunted for some victim more
worthy of his renown. It was Magua, who uttered a yell of pleasure when
he beheld his ancient prisoners again at his mercy.

"Come," he said, laying his soiled hands on the dress of Cora, "the
wigwam of the Huron is still open. Is it not better than this place?"

"Away!" cried Cora, veiling her eyes from his revolting aspect.

The Indian laughed tauntingly, as he held up his reeking hand, and
answered: "It is red, but it comes from white veins!"

"Monster! there is blood, oceans of blood, upon thy soul; thy spirit has
moved this scene."

"Magua is a great chief!" returned the exulting savage, "will the
dark-hair go to his tribe?"

"Never! strike if thou wilt, and complete thy revenge." He hesitated a
moment, and then catching the light and sense