Go look into the
spring; see the colours of your enemies on your lying skin; then
come back and boast how you run from your tribe and took the blanket
of the French for your covering! Paint yourself as bright as the
humming bird, you will still be black as the crow!"
Hist had been so uniformly gentle, while living with the Hurons,
that they now listened to her language with surprise. As for the
delinquent, his blood boiled in his veins, and it was well for the
pretty speaker that it was not in his power to execute the revenge
he burned to inflict on her, in spite of his pretended love.
"Who wishes Briarthorn?" he sternly asked - "If this pale-face is
tired of life, if afraid of Indian torments, speak, Rivenoak; I
will send him after the warriors we have lost."
"No, chiefs - no, Rivenoak -" eagerly interrupted Hist - "Deerslayer
fears nothing; least of all a crow! Unbind him - cut his withes,
place him face to face with this cawing bird; then let us see which
is tired of life!"
Hist made a forward movement, as if to take a knife from a young
man, and perform the office she had mentioned in person, but an aged
warrior interposed, at a sign from Rivenoak. This chief watched
all the girl did with distrust, for, even while speaking in her
most boastful language, and in the steadiest manner, there was an
air of uncertainty and expectation about her, that could not escape
so close an observer.
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