Two lodges are empty; a scalp, living or dead, is wanted
at each door."
"Then take 'em dead, Huron," firmly, but altogether without dramatic
boasting, returned the captive. "My hour is come, I do suppose,
and what must be, must. If you are bent on the tortur', I'll do
my indivours to bear up ag'in it, though no man can say how far
his natur' will stand pain, until he's been tried."
"The pale-face cur begins to put his tail between his legs!" cried
a young and garrulous savage, who bore the appropriate title of
the Corbeau Rouge; a sobriquet he had gained from the French by
his facility in making unseasonable noises, and an undue tendency
to hear his own voice; "he is no warrior; he has killed the Loup
Cervier when looking behind him not to see the flash of his own
rifle. He grunts like a hog, already; when the Huron women begin
to torment him, he will cry like the young of the catamount. He
is a Delaware woman, dressed in the skin of a Yengeese!"
"Have your say, young man; have your say," returned Deerslayer,
unmoved; "you know no better, and I can overlook it. Talking may
aggravate women, but can hardly make knives sharper, fire hotter,
or rifles more sartain.
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