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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"


"I know not thy name, nor yet even that of thy people," commenced the
latter, after a long pause in which he seemed to study deeply the
countenance of the lad; "but certain am I, though a more wicked spirit may
still be struggling for the mastery in thy wild mind, that nobleness of
feeling is no stranger to thy bosom. Speak; hast thou aught to impart
concerning the danger that besets this family? I have learned much this
night from thy manner, but to be clearly understood, it is now time that
thou shouldst speak in words."
The youth kept his eye fastened on that of the speaker, until the other
had ended, and then he bent it slowly, but with searching observation, on
the anxious countenance of Ruth. It seemed as if he balanced between his
pride and his sympathies. The latter prevailed; for, conquering the deep
reluctance of an Indian, he spoke openly, and for the first time, since
his captivity, in the language of the hated race.
"I hear the whoops of warriors," was his calm answer. "Have the ears of
the pale men been shut?"
"Thou hast spoken with the young men of thy tribe in the forest, and thou
hadst knowledge of this onset?"
The youth made no reply, though the keen look of his interrogator was met
steadily, and without fear.


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