tribe. There was nothing
in the air or attire of this Indian that would seem to entitle him to
such a distinction. The former was rather depressed, than remarkable for
the bearing of the natives; and the latter was such as was commonly worn
by the ordinary men of the nation. Like most around him, for more than a
minute his look too was on the ground; but, trusting his eyes at length
to steal a glance aside, he perceived that he was becoming an object of
general attention. Then he arose and lifted his voice in the general
silence.

"It was a lie," he said; "I had no son. He who was called by that name
is forgotten; his blood was pale; and it came not from the veins of a
Huron; the wicked Chippewas cheated my squaw. The Great Spirit has said,
that the family of Wiss-entush should end; he is happy who knows that
the evil of his race dies with himself. I have done."

The speaker, who was the father of the recreant young Indian, looked
round and about him, as if seeking commendation of his stoicism in the
eyes of his auditors. But the stern customs of his people had made too
severe an exaction of the feeble old man. The expression of his eye
contradicted his figurative and boastful language, while every muscle in
his wrinkled visage was working with anguish. Standing a single minute
to enjoy his bitter triumph, he turned away, as if sickening at the gaze
of men, and veiling his face in his blanket, he walked from the lodge
with the noiseless step of an Indian, seeking, in the privacy of his own
abode, the sympathy of one like himself, aged, forlorn, and childless.

The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of virtues and
defects in character, suffered him to depart in silence. Then, with an
elevation of breeding that many in a more cultivated state of society
might profitably emulate, one of the chiefs drew the attention of the
young men from the weakness they had just witnessed, by saying, in a
cheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as the newest
comer,--

"The Delawares have been like bears after the honey-pots, prowling
around my village. But who has ever found a Huron asleep?"

The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes a burst of thunder
was not blacker than the brow of Magua as he exclaimed,--

"The Delawares of the Lakes!"

"Not so. They who wear the petticoats of squaws, on their own river. One
of them has been passing the tribe."

"Did my young men take his scalp?"