While Deerslayer was speaking, his mind was
a little bewildered, though he felt that the intention was good;
and when he had done, a regret passed over his spirit that none of
his own tribe were present to witness his stoicism, under extreme
bodily suffering, and the firmness with which he met his end.
With the high innate courtesy that so often distinguishes the
Indian warrior before he becomes corrupted by too much intercourse
with the worst class of the white men, he endeavored to express
his thankfulness for the other's good intentions, and to let him
understand that they were appreciated.
"Good!" he repeated, for this was an English word much used by the
savages, "good! young head; young heart, too. Old heart tough;
no shed tear. Hear Indian when he die, and no want to lie - what
he call him?"
"Deerslayer is the name I bear now, though the Delawares have said
that when I get back from this war-path, I shall have a more manly
title, provided I can 'arn one."
"That good name for boy - poor name for warrior. He get better
quick. No fear there," - the savage had strength sufficient, under
the strong excitement he felt, to raise a hand and tap the young
man on his breast, - "eye sartain -finger lightning - aim, death
- great warrior soon.
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