Without deigning a reply in
words, she made the arches of the forest ring with screams, and
then flew forward at her victim, seizing him by the hair, which
she appeared resolute to draw out by the roots. It was some time
before her grasp could be loosened. Fortunately for the prisoner
her rage was blind; since his total helplessness left him entirely
at her mercy. Had it been better directed it might have proved
fatal before any relief could have been offered. As it was, she
did succeed in wrenching out two or three handsful of hair, before
the young men could tear her away from her victim.
The insult that had been offered to the Sumach was deemed an insult
to the whole tribe; not so much, however, on account of any respect
that was felt for the woman, as on account of the honor of the
Huron nation. Sumach, herself, was generally considered to be as
acid as the berry from which she derived her name, and now that
her great supporters, her husband and brother, were both gone, few
cared about concealing their aversion. Nevertheless, it had become
a point of honor to punish the pale-face who disdained a Huron woman,
and more particularly one who coolly preferred death to relieving
the tribe from the support of a widow and her children.
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