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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"

The wild and unearthly air of this seeming spectre, was in
keeping with the rest of the scene. A face begrimed with smoke and stained
with blood, a head bound in some fragment of a soiled dress, and eyes that
were glaring in a species of dull horror, were objects in unison with all
the other frightful accessories of the place.
"What seest thou?" demanded a deep voice from within the walls of the
shaft. "Shall we again come to our weapons, or have the agents of Moloch
departed? Speak, entranced youth! what dost behold?"
"A sight to make a wolf weep!" returned Eben Dudley, raising his large
frame so as to stand erect on the shaft, where he commanded a bird's-eye
view of most of the desolation of the valley. "Evil though it be, we may
not say that forewarning signs have been withheld. But what is the
cunningest man, when mortal wisdom is weighed in the scale against the
craft of devils? Come forth! Belial hath done his worst, and we have a
breathing-time."
The sounds, which issued still deeper from the well, denoted the
satisfaction with which this intelligence was received, no less than the
alacrity with which the summons of the borderer was obeyed.


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