iberately, with a sort of grave march, toward a dwarf pine that grew
in the crevices of the rocky terrace, he tore the bark from its body,
and then turned whence he came without speaking. He was soon followed
by another, who stripped the sapling of its branches, leaving it a naked
and blazed* trunk. A third colored the post with stripes of a dark red
paint; all which indications of a hostile design in the leaders of the
nation were received by the men without in a gloomy and ominous silence.
Finally, the Mohican himself reappeared, divested of all his attire,
except his girdle and leggings, and with one-half of his fine features
hid under a cloud of threatening black.

* A tree which has been partially or entirely stripped of
its bark is said, in the language of the country, to be
"blazed." The term is strictly English, for a horse is said
to be blazed when it has a white mark.

Uncas moved with a slow and dignified tread toward the post, which he
immediately commenced encircling with a measured step, not unlike an
ancient dance, raising his voice, at the same time, in the wild and
irregular chant of his war song. The notes were in the extremes of
human sounds; being sometimes melancholy and exquisitely plaintive,
even rivaling the melody of birds--and then, by sudden and startling
transitions, causing the auditors to tremble by their depth and energy.
The words were few and often repeated, proceeding gradually from a sort
of invocation, or hymn, to the Deity, to an intimation of the warrior's
object, and terminating as they commenced with an acknowledgment of his
own dependence on the Great Spirit. If it were possible to translate the
comprehensive and melodious language in which he spoke, the ode might
read something like the following: "Manitou! Manitou! Manitou! Thou art
great, thou art good, thou art wise: Manitou! Manitou! Thou art just. In
the heavens, in the clouds, oh, I see many spots--many dark, many red:
In the heavens, oh, I see many clouds."

"In the woods, in the air, oh, I hear the whoop, the long yell, and the
cry: In the woods, oh, I hear the loud whoop!"

"Manitou! Manitou! Manitou! I am weak--thou art strong; I am slow;
Manitou! Manitou! Give me aid."

At the end of what might be called each verse he made a pause, by
raising a note louder and longer than common, that was peculiarly
suited to the sentiment just expressed. The first close was solemn,
and intended to convey the