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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"

When last seen, Eben Dudley, the heaviest of the band, was moving
firmly on the crust of the snow, with a step as sure as if he had trodden
on the frozen earth itself. More than one of the maidens declared, that
though they had endeavored to trace the footsteps of the hunters from the
palisadoes, it would have exceeded even the sagacity of an Indian eye to
follow their trail along the icy path they travelled.
Hour after hour passed, without bringing tidings from the chase. The
reports of fire-arms had indeed been occasionally heard, ringing among the
arches of the woods; and broken echoes were, for some hours, rolling from
one recess of the hills to another. But even these signs of the presence
of the hunters gradually receded with the advance of the day; and, long
ere the sun had gained the meridian, and its warmth, at that advanced
season not without power, was shed into the valley, the whole range of the
adjoining forest lay in its ordinary dull and solemn silence.
The incident of the hunt, apart from the absence of the Indian boy, was
one of too common occurrence to give birth to any particular motives of
excitement.


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