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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"


"Why hide thy countenance? One young and innocent as thou, may lift thine
eyes to Heaven with confidence."
"Mother, I see the Indian, unless my face be hid. He looketh at me, I
fear, with wish to do us harm."
"Thou art not just to Miantonimoh, child," answered Ruth, as she glanced
her eye rapidly round to seek the boy, who had modestly withdrawn into a
remote and shaded corner of the room. "I left him with thee for a
guardian, and not as one who would wish to injure. Now think of thy God,
child," imprinting a kiss on the cold, marble-like forehead of her
daughter, "and have reliance in his goodness. Miantonimoh, I again leave
you with a charge, to be their protector," she added, quitting her
daughter and advancing towards the youth.
"Mother!" shrieked the child, "come to me, or I die!"
Ruth turned from the listening captive, with the quickness of instinct. A
glance showed her the jeopardy of her offspring. A naked savage, dark,
powerful of frame, and fierce in the frightful masquerade of his
war-paint, stood winding the silken hair of the girl in one hand, while he
already held the glittering axe above a head that seemed inevitably
devoted to destruction.


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