werful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and inferiors
were arranged in the background, presenting a dark outline of swarthy
and marked visages. In the very centre of the lodge, immediately under
an opening that admitted the twinkling light of one or two stars, stood
Uncas, calm, elevated, and collected. His high and haughty carriage was
not lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his person, with
eyes which, while they lost none of their inflexibility of purpose,
plainly betrayed their admiration of the stranger's daring.

The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had observed to
stand forth with his friend, previously to the desperate trial of speed;
and who, instead of joining in the chase, had remained, throughout its
turbulent uproar, like a cringing statue, expressive of shame and
disgrace. Though not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet an
eye had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered the
lodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he submitted,
seemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited by the first opportunity
to gaze in his face, secretly apprehensive he might find the features of
another acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger, and,
what was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all the distinctive
marks of a Huron warrior. Instead of mingling with his tribe, however,
he sat apart, a solitary being in a multitude, his form shrinking into a
crouching and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space as
possible. When each individual had taken his proper station, and silence
reigned in the place, the gray-haired chief already introduced to the
reader, spoke aloud, in the language of the Lenni Lenape.

"Delaware," he said, "though one of a nation of women, you have proved
yourself a man. I would give you food; but he who eats with a Huron
should become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when our
last words shall be spoken."

"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the trail of
the Hurons," Uncas coldly replied; "the children of the Lenape know how
to travel the path of the just without lingering to eat."

"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion," resumed the
other, without appearing to regard the boast of his captive; "when they
get back, then will our wise men say to you 'live' or 'die.'"

"Has a Huron no ears?" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; "twice, since he has