In walking, Hist was held tightly by the hand.
As she moved by the tree that hid Chingachgook and his friend the
former felt for his tomahawk, with the intention to bury it in the
brain of the woman. But the other saw the hazard of such a measure,
since a single scream might bring all the warriors upon them, and
he was averse to the act on considerations of humanity. His hand,
therefore, prevented the blow. Still as the two moved past, the
chirrup was repeated, and the Huron woman stopped and faced the
tree whence the sounds seemed to proceed, standing, at the moment,
within six feet of her enemies. She expressed her surprise that a
squirrel should be in motion at so late an hour, and said it boded
evil. Hist answered that she had heard the same squirrel three
times within the last twenty minutes, and that she supposed it was
waiting to obtain some of the crumbs left from the late supper.
This explanation appeared satisfactory, and they moved towards the
spring, the men following stealthily and closely. The gourd was
filled, and the old woman was hurrying back, her hand still grasping
the wrist of the girl, when she was suddenly seized so violently by
the throat as to cause her to release her captive, and to prevent
her making any other sound than a sort of gurgling, suffocating
noise.
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