mmenced a sort of chant in honor of the dead. The sounds were those of
females, and were thrillingly soft and wailing. The words were connected
by no regular continuation, but as one ceased another took up the
eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called, and gave vent to
her emotions in such language as was suggested by her feelings and the
occasion. At intervals the speaker was interrupted by general and loud
bursts of sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of Cora plucked
the plants and flowers blindly from her body, as if bewildered with
grief. But, in the milder moments of their plaint, these emblems of
purity and sweetness were cast back to their places, with every sign
of tenderness and regret. Though rendered less connected by many and
general interruptions and outbreakings, a translation of their language
would have contained a regular descant, which, in substance, might have
proved to possess a train of consecutive ideas.

A girl, selected for the task by her rank and qualifications,
commenced by modest allusions to the qualities of the deceased warrior,
embellishing her expressions with those oriental images that the
Indians have probably brought with them from the extremes of the other
continent, and which form of themselves a link to connect the ancient
histories of the two worlds. She called him the "panther of his tribe";
and described him as one whose moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose
bound was like the leap of a young fawn; whose eye was brighter than
a star in the dark night; and whose voice, in battle, was loud as the
thunder of the Manitou. She reminded him of the mother who bore him, and
dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel in possessing such a son.
She bade him tell her, when they met in the world of spirits, that the
Delaware girls had shed tears above the grave of her child, and had
called her blessed.

Then, they who succeeded, changing their tones to a milder and still
more tender strain, alluded, with the delicacy and sensitiveness of
women, to the stranger maiden, who had left the upper earth at a time
so near his own departure, as to render the will of the Great Spirit too
manifest to be disregarded. They admonished him to be kind to her, and
to have consideration for her ignorance of those arts which were so
necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself. They dwelled upon
her matchless beauty, and on her noble resolution, without the taint of
envy, and