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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"


Partly in awe, and partly in doubt of what might be the consequences of
so mysterious an asking, the dark crowd with drew to a little distance,
and silently watched the progress of the destruction. They had heard
strange sayings of the power of the Deity of their invaders, and as their
victims appeared suddenly to cease using any of the known means of safety,
they appeared to expect, perhaps they did expect, some unequivocal
manifestation of the power of the Great Spirit of the stranger.
Still no sign of pity, no relenting from the ruthless barbarity of their
warfare, escaped any of the assailants. If they thought at all of the
temporal fate of those who might still exist within the fiery pile, it was
only to indulge in some passing regret, that the obstinacy of the defence
had deprived them of the glory of bearing the usual bloody tokens of
victory, in triumph to their villages. But even these peculiar and
deeply-rooted feelings were for gotten, as the progress of the flames,
placed the hope of its indulgence beyond all possibility.
The roof of the block rekindled, and, by the light that shone through the
loops, it was but too evident the interior was in a blaze.


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