The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2, J Fenimore Cooper [best e reader for manga txt] 📗

 

The Heartless Savage Commenced His Efforts,  By Flourishing His

Tomahawk About The Head Of The Captive,  In Such A Manner As To Give

Reason To Suppose,  That Each Blow Would Bury The Weapon In The Flesh,

While It Was So Governed As Not To Touch The Skin. To This Customary

Expedient Hard-Heart Was Perfectly Insensible. His Eye Kept The Same

Steady,  Riveted Look On The Air,  Though The Glittering Axe Described,

In Its Evolutions,  A Bright Circle Of Light Before His Countenance.

Frustrated In This Attempt,  The Callous Sioux Laid The Cold Edge On

The Naked Head Of His Victim,  And Began To Describe The Different

Manners,  In Which A Prisoner Might Be Flayed. The Women Kept Time To

His Cruelties With Their Taunts,  And Endeavoured To Force Some

Expression Of The Lingerings Of Nature From The Insensible Features Of

The Pawnee. But He Evidently Reserved Himself For The Chiefs,  And For

Those Moments Of Extreme Anguish,  When The Loftiness Of His Spirit

Might Evince Itself In A Manner Better Becoming His High And

Untarnished Reputation.

 

The Eyes Of The Trapper,  Followed Every Movement Of The Tomahawk,  With

The Interest Of A Real Father,  Until At Length,  Unable To Command His

Indignation,  He Exclaimed--

 

"My Son Has Forgotten His Cunning. This Is A Low-Minded Indian,  And

One Easily Hurried Into Folly. I Cannot Do The Thing Myself,  For My

Traditions Forbid A Dying Warrior To Revile His Persecutors,  But The

Gifts Of A Red-Skin Are Different. Let The Pawnee Say The Bitter Words

And Purchase An Easy Death. I Will Answer For His Success,  Provided He

Speaks Before The Grave Men Set Their Wisdom To Back The Folly Of This

Fool."

 

The Savage Sioux,  Who Heard His Words Without Comprehending Their

Meaning,  Turned To The Speaker And Menaced Him With Death,  For His

Temerity.

 

"Ay,  Work Your Will," Said The Unflinching Old Man; "I Am As Ready Now

As I Shall Be To-Morrow. Though It Would Be A Death That An Honest Man

Might Not Wish To Die. Look At That Noble Pawnee,  Teton,  And See What

A Red-Skin May Become,  Who Fears The Master Of Life,  And Follows His

Laws. How Many Of Your People Has He Sent To The Distant Prairies?" He

Continued In A Sort Of Pious Fraud,  Thinking,  That While The Danger

Menaced Himself,  There Could Surely Be No Sin In Extolling The Merits

Of Another; "How Many Howling Siouxes Has He Struck,  Like A Warrior In

Open Combat,  While Arrows Were Sailing In The Air Plentier Than Flakes

Of Falling Snow! Go! Will Weucha Speak The Name Of One Enemy He Has

Ever Struck?"

 

"Hard-Heart!" Shouted The Sioux,  Turning In His Fury,  And Aiming A

Deadly Blow At The Head Of His Victim. His Arm Fell Into The Hollow Of

The Captive's Hand. For A Single Moment The Two Stood,  As If Entranced

In That Attitude,  The One Paralysed By So Unexpected A Resistance,  And

The Other Bending His Head,  Not To Meet His Death,  But In The Act Of

The Most Intense Attention. The Women Screamed With Triumph,  For They

Thought The Nerves Of The Captive Had At Length Failed Him. The

Trapper Trembled For The Honour Of His Friend; And Hector,  As If

Part 3 Chapter 28 Pg 117

Conscious Of What Was Passing,  Raised His Nose Into The Air,  And

Uttered A Piteous Howl.

 

But The Pawnee Hesitated,  Only For That Moment. Raising The Other

Hand,  Like Lightning,  The Tomahawk Flashed In The Air,  And Weucha Sunk

To His Feet,  Brained To The Eye. Then Cutting A Way With The Bloody

Weapon,  He Darted Through The Opening,  Left By The Frightened Women,

And Seemed To Descend The Declivity At A Single Bound.

 

Had A Bolt From Heaven Fallen In The Midst Of The Teton Band It Would

Not Have Occasioned Greater Consternation,  Than This Act Of Desperate

Hardihood. A Shrill Plaintive Cry Burst From The Lips Of All The

Women,  And There Was A Moment,  That Even The Oldest Warriors Appeared

To Have Lost Their Faculties. This Stupor Endured Only For The

Instant. It Was Succeeded By A Yell Of Revenge,  That Burst From A

Hundred Throats,  While As Many Warriors Started Forward At The Cry,

Bent On The Most Bloody Retribution. But A Powerful And Authoritative

Call From Mahtoree Arrested Every Foot. The Chief,  In Whose

Countenance Disappointment And Rage Were Struggling With The Affected

Composure Of His Station,  Extended An Arm Towards The River,  And The

Whole Mystery Was Explained.

 

Hard-Heart Had Already Crossed Half The Bottom,  Which Lay Between The

Acclivity And The Water. At This Precise Moment A Band Of Armed And

Mounted Pawnees Turned A Swell,  And Galloped To The Margin Of The

Stream,  Into Which The Plunge Of The Fugitive Was Distinctly Heard. A

Few Minutes Sufficed For His Vigorous Arm To Conquer The Passage,  And

Then The Shout From The Opposite Shore Told The Humbled Tetons The

Whole Extent Of The Triumph Of Their Adversaries.

 

 

Part 3 Chapter 29 Pg 118

  If That Shepherd Be Not In Hand-Fast,  Let Him Fly; The Curses He

  Shall Have,  The Tortures He Shall Feel,  Will Break The Back Of

  Man,  The Heart Of Monster.

                                                   --Shakspeare.

 

It Will Readily Be Seen That The Event Just Related Was Attended By An

Extraordinary Sensation Among The Siouxes. In Leading The Hunters Of

The Band Back To The Encampment,  Their Chief Had Neglected None Of The

Customary Precautions Of Indian Prudence,  In Order That His Trail

Might Escape The Eyes Of His Enemies. It Would Seem,  However,  That The

Pawnees Had Not Only Made The Dangerous Discovery,  But Had Managed

With Great Art To Draw Nigh The Place,  By The Only Side On Which It

Was Thought Unnecessary To Guard The Approaches With The Usual Line Of

Sentinels. The Latter,  Who Were Scattered Along The Different Little

Eminences,  Which Lay In The Rear Of The Lodges,  Were Among The Last To

Be Apprized Of The Danger.

 

Part 3 Chapter 29 Pg 119

In Such A Crisis There Was Little Time For Deliberation. It Was By

Exhibiting The Force Of His Character In Scenes Of Similar Difficulty,

That Mahtoree Had Obtained And Strengthened His Ascendency Among His

People,  Nor Did He Seem Likely To Lose It By The Manifestation Of Any

Indecision On The Present Occasion. In The Midst Of The Screams Of The

Young,  The Shrieks Of The Women,  And The Wild Howlings Of The Crones,

Which Were Sufficient Of Themselves To Have Created A Chaos In The

Thoughts Of One Less Accustomed To Act In Emergencies,  He Promptly

Asserted His Authority,  Issuing His Orders With The Coolness Of A

Veteran.

 

While The Warriors Were Arming,  The Boys Were Despatched To The Bottom

For The Horses. The Tents Were Hastily Struck By The Women,  And

Disposed Of On Such Of The Beasts Are Were Not Deemed Fit To Be

Trusted In Combat. The Infants Were Cast Upon The Backs Of Their

Mothers,  And Those Children,  Who Were Of A Size To March,  Were Driven

To The Rear,  Like A Herd Of Less Reasoning Animals. Though These

Several Movements Were Made Amid Outcries,  And A Clamour,  That Likened

The Place To Another Babel,  They Were Executed With Incredible

Alacrity And Intelligence.

 

In The Mean Time,  Mahtoree Neglected No Duty That Belonged To His

Responsible Station. From The Elevation,  On Which He Stood,  He Could

Command A Perfect View Of The Force And Evolutions Of The Hostile

Party. A Grim Smile Lighted His Visage,  When He Found That,  In Point

Of Numbers,  His Own Band Was Greatly The Superior. Notwithstanding

This Advantage,  However,  There Were Other Points Of Inequality,  Which

Would Probably Have A Tendency To Render His Success,  In The

Approaching Conflict,  Exceedingly Doubtful. His People Were The

Inhabitants Of A More Northern And Less Hospitable Region Than Their

Enemies,  And Were Far From Being Rich In That Species Of Property,

Horses And Arms,  Which Constitutes The Most Highly Prized Wealth Of A

Western Indian. The Band In View Was Mounted To A Man; And As It Had

Come So Far To Rescue,  Or To Revenge,  Their Greatest Partisan,  He Had

No Reason To Doubt Its Being Composed Entirely Of Braves. On The Other

Hand,  Many Of His Followers Were Far Better In A Hunt Than In A

Combat; Men Who Might Serve To Divert The Attention Of His Foes,  But

From Whom He Could Expect Little Desperate Service. Still,  His

Flashing Eye Glanced Over A Body Of Warriors On Whom He Had Often

Relied,  And Who Had Never Deceived Him; And Though,  In The Precise

Position In Which He Found Himself,  He Felt No Disposition To

Precipitate The Conflict,  He Certainly Would Have Had No Intention To

Avoid It,  Had Not The Presence Of His Women And Children Placed The

Option Altogether In The Power Of His Adversaries.

 

On The Other Hand,  The Pawnees,  So Unexpectedly Successful In Their

First And Greatest Object,  Manifested No Intention To Drive Matters To

An Issue. The River Was A Dangerous Barrier To Pass,  In The Face Of A

Determined Foe,  And It Would Now Have Been In Perfect Accordance With

Their Cautious Policy,  To Have Retired For A Season,  In Order That

Their Onset Might Be Made In The Hours Of Darkness,  And Of Seeming

Security. But There Was A Spirit In Their Chief That Elevated Him,  For

The Moment,  Above The Ordinary Expedients Of Savage Warfare. His Bosom

Burned With The Desire To Wipe Out That Disgrace Of Which He Had Been

Part 3 Chapter 29 Pg 120

The Subject; And It Is Possible,  That He Believed The Retiring Camp Of

The Siouxes Contained A Prize,  That Began To Have A