took his seat, until the present instant, the lips of the
patriarch had not severed, and scarcely a sign of life had escaped him.
He sat bent in feebleness, and apparently unconscious of the presence
he was in, during the whole of that opening scene, in which the skill of
the scout had been so clearly established. At the nicely graduated sound
of Magua's voice, however, he betrayed some evidence of consciousness,
and once or twice he even raised his head, as if to listen. But when
the crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eyelids of the old man
raised themselves, and he looked out upon the multitude with that sort
of dull, unmeaning expression which might be supposed to belong to the
countenance of a specter. Then he made an effort to rise, and being
upheld by his supporters, he gained his feet, in a posture commanding by
its dignity, while he tottered with weakness.

"Who calls upon the children of the Lenape?" he said, in a deep,
guttural voice, that was rendered awfully audible by the breathless
silence of the multitude; "who speaks of things gone? 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."

"A friend!" repeated the sage, on whose brow a dark frown settled,
imparting a portion of that severity which had rendered his eye so
terrible in middle age. "Are the Mingoes rulers of the earth? What
brings a Huron in here?"

"Justice. His prisoners are with his brothers, and he comes for his
own."

Tamenund turned his head toward one of his supporters, and listened to
the short explanation the man gave.

Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a moment with deep
attention; after which he said, in a low and reluctant voice:

"Justice is the law of the great Manitou. My children, give the stranger
food. Then, Huron, take thine own and depart."

On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patriarch seated himself,
and closed his eyes again, as if better pleased with the images of
his own ripened experience than with the visible objects of the world.
Against such a decree there was no Delaware sufficiently hardy to
murmur, much less oppose himself. The words were barely uttered when
four or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind Heyward and the
scout, passed thongs so dexterou