nest old chieftain, without heeding the
wounded spirit of his listener, whose head was nearly crushed to the
earth in shame, as he proceeded, "would bark and caw before they would
take a woman to their wigwams whose blood was not of the color of snow.
But let them not boast before the face of the Manitou too loud. They
entered the land at the rising, and may yet go off at the setting sun. I
have often seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the
season of blossoms has always come again."

"It is so," said Cora, drawing a long breath, as if reviving from a
trance, raising her face, and shaking back her shining veil, with a
kindling eye, that contradicted the death-like paleness of her
countenance; "but why--it is not permitted us to inquire. There is yet
one of thine own people who has not been brought before thee; before
thou lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him speak."

Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, one of his companions
said,--

"It is a snake--a redskin in the pay of the Yengeese. We keep him for
the torture."

"Let him come," returned the sage.

Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat, and a silence so deep
prevailed, while the young men prepared to obey his simple mandate, that
the leaves, which fluttered in the draught of the light morning air,
were distinctly heard rustling in the surrounding forest.

CHAPTER XXX

"If you deny me, fie upon your law!
There is no force in the decrees of Venice:
I stand for judgment; answer, shall I have it?"

_Merchant of Venice._

The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for many anxious minutes.
Then the waving multitude opened and shut again, and Uncas stood in the
living circle. All those eyes, which had been curiously studying the
lineaments of the sage, as the source of their own intelligence, turned
on the instant, and were now bent in secret admiration on the erect,
agile, and faultless person of the captive. But neither the presence in
which he found himself, nor the exclusive attention that he attracted,
in any manner disturbed the self-possession of the young Mohican. He
cast a deliberate and observing look on every side of him, meeting the
settled expression of hostility that lowered in the visages of the
chiefs, with the same calmness as the curious gaze of the attentive
children. But when, last in his haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund
came under his glance, his eye became fixed, as th