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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"


"Enter," said the stranger, lowering the piece of the palisado for the
passage of his companion. "Enter, of a Heaven's sake! for it is truly meet
that we assemble all our spiritual succor."
Dudley was in the act of complying, when a dark line, accompanied by a low
rushing sound, cut the air between his head and that of his companion. At
the next instant, a flint-headed arrow quivered in the timber.
"The heathen!" shouted the borderer, recovering all his manhood as the
familiar danger became apparent, and throwing back a stream of fire in the
direction from which the treacherous missile had come. "To the
palisadoes, men! the bloody heathen is upon us!"
"The heathen!" echoed the stranger, in a deep steady, commanding voice,
that had evidently often raised the warning in scenes of even greater,
emergency, and levelling a pistol, which brought a dark form that was
gliding across the snow to one knee. "The heathen! the bloody heathen
is upon us!"
As if both assailants and assailed paused, one moment of profound
stillness succeeded this fierce interruption of the quiet of the night.


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