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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"


The chiefs of the successful party stood in the centre, apparently engaged
in some grave deliberation. As they were few in number, it was evident
that the council only included men of the highest importance. Chiefs of
inferior rank, but of great names in the limited renown of those simple
tribes, conversed in knots among the trees, or paced the court at a
respectful distance from the consultation of their superiors.
The least practised eye could not mistake the person of him on whom the
greatest weight of authority had fallen. The turbaned warrior, already
introduced in these pages, occupied the centre of the group, in the calm
and dignified attitude of an Indian who hearkens to or who utters advice.
His musket was borne by one who stood in waiting, while the knife and axe
were returned to his girdle He had thrown a light blanket, or it might be
better termed a robe of scarlet cloth, over his left shoulder, whence it
gracefully fell in folds, leaving the whole of the right arm free, and
most of his ample chest exposed to view. From beneath this mantle, blood
fell slowly in drops, dying the floor on which he stood.


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