arouse him as indifferently as a gentleman in our own state
of society regards the vituperative terms of a blackguard: the one party
feeling that the tongue of an old woman could never injure a warrior,
and the other knowing that mendacity and vulgarity can only permanently
affect those who resort to their use; but he was spared any further
attack at present, by the interposition of Rivenoak, who shoved aside
the hag, bidding her quit the spot, and prepared to take his seat at
the side of his prisoner. The old woman withdrew, but the hunter well
understood that he was to be the subject of all her means of annoyance,
if not of positive injury, so long as he remained in the power of his
enemies, for nothing rankles so deeply as the consciousness that an
attempt to irritate has been met by contempt, a feeling that is usually
the most passive of any that is harbored in the human breast. Rivenoak
quietly took the seat we have mentioned, and, after a short pause, he
commenced a dialogue, which we translate as usual, for the benefit of
those readers who have not studied the North American languages.

"My pale-face friend is very welcome," said the Indian, with a familiar
nod, and a smile so covert that it required all Deerslayer's vigilance
to detect, and not a little of his philosophy to detect unmoved; "he is
welcome. The Hurons keep a hot fire to dry the white man's clothes by."

"I thank you, Huron--or Mingo, as I most like to call you," returned the
other, "I thank you for the welcome, and I thank you for the fire. Each
is good in its way, and the last is very good, when one has been in a
spring as cold as the Glimmerglass. Even Huron warmth may be pleasant,
at such a time, to a man with a Delaware heart."

"The pale-face--but my brother has a name? So great a warrior would not
have lived without a name?"

"Mingo," said the hunter, a little of the weakness of human nature
exhibiting itself in the glance of his eye, and the colour on his
cheek--"Mingo, your brave called me Hawkeye, I suppose on account of a
quick and sartain aim, when he was lying with his head in my lap, afore
his spirit started for the Happy Hunting Grounds."

"'Tis a good name! The hawk is sure of his blow. Hawkeye is not a woman;
why does he live with the Delawares?"

"I understand you, Mingo, but we look on all that as a sarcumvention of
some of your subtle devils, and deny the charge. Providence placed me
among the Delawares young, and, 'bating