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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"

The ruthless band which had occasioned this sudden change was
already far on the way to its villages, or, haply, it sought some other
scene of blood. A skilful eye might have traced the route these fierce
creatures of the woods had taken, by fences hurled from their places, or
by the carcass of some animal that had fallen, in the wantonness of
victory, beneath a parting blow. Of all these wild beings, one only
remained; and he appeared to linger at the spot in the indulgence of
feelings that were foreign to those passions that had so recently stirred
the bosoms of his comrades.
It was with a slow, noiseless step that the solitary loiterer moved about
the scene of destruction. He was first seen treading, with a thoughtful
air, among the ruins of the buildings that had formed the quadrangle, and
then, seemingly led by an interest in the fate of those who had so
miserably perished, he drew nearer to the pile in its centre. The nicest
and most attentive ear could not have detected the fall of his foot, as
the Indian placed it within the gloomy circle of the ruined wall; nor is
the breathing of the infant less audible, than the manner in which he drew
breath, while standing in a place so lately consecrated by the agony and
martyrdom of a Christian family.


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