ng
himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the empty clay retained the
faculties of the animated man; "thy time has been like that of the sun
when in the trees; thy glory brighter than his light at noonday. Thou
art gone, youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the
briers from thy path to the world of the spirits. Who that saw thee in
battle would believe that thou couldst die? Who before thee has ever
shown Uttawa the way into the fight? Thy feet were like the wings of
eagles; thine arm heavier than falling branches from the pine; and
thy voice like the Manitou when He speaks in the clouds. The tongue of
Uttawa is weak," he added, looking about him with a melancholy gaze,
"and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the Wapanachki, why hast thou
left us?"

He was succeeded by others, in due order, until most of the high and
gifted men of the nation had sung or spoken their tribute of praise over
the manes of the deceased chief. When each had ended, another deep and
breathing silence reigned in all the place.

Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed accompaniment of
distant music, rising just high enough on the air to be audible, and
yet so indistinctly, as to leave its character, and the place whence it
proceeded, alike matters of conjecture. It was, however, succeeded by
another and another strain, each in a higher key, until they grew on the
ear, first in long drawn and often repeated interjections, and finally
in words. The lips of Chingachgook had so far parted, as to announce
that it was the monody of the father. Though not an eye was turned
toward him nor the smallest sign of impatience exhibited, it was
apparent, by the manner in which the multitude elevated their heads to
listen, that they drank in the sounds with an intenseness of attention,
that none but Tamenund himself had ever before commanded. But
they listened in vain. The strains rose just so loud as to become
intelligible, and then grew fainter and more trembling, until they
finally sank on the ear, as if borne away by a passing breath of wind.
The lips of the Sagamore closed, and he remained silent in his seat,
looking with his riveted eye and motionless form, like some creature
that had been turned from the Almighty hand with the form but without
the spirit of a man. The Delawares who knew by these symptoms that
the mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an effort of
fortitude, relaxed in their attention; and,