unless it may be one like myself. I'm weary of living in clearings, and where the hammer is sounding in my ears from sunrise to sundown. And though I'm much bound to ye both, children-I would n't say it if it was not true - I crave to go into the woods ag'in, I do.' 'Woods!' echoed Elizabeth, trembling with her feelings; 'do you not call these endless forests woods?

and hounds should be gaunty to run well. The meanest of God's creaters be made for some use, and I'm formed for the wilderness; if ye love me, let me go 5 where my soul craves to be ag'in!'

The appeal was decisive; and not another word of entreaty for him to remain was then uttered; but Elizabeth bent her head to her bosom and wept, to while her husband dashed away the tears from his eyes; and, with hands that almost refused to perform their office, he produced his pocket-book, and extended a parcel of bank-notes to the hunter.

'Ah! child, these be nothing to a man that 's used to the wilderness. I have took but little comfort sin' your father come on with his settlers; but I wouldn't go far, while the life was in the body that 15 lies under the sod there. But now he's gone, and Chingachgook is gone; and you be both young and happy. Yes! the big house has rung with merriment this month past! And now, I thought, was the time 20 to try to get a little comfort in the close of my days. Woods! indeed! I does n't call these woods, Madam Effingham, where I lose myself every day of my life in the clearings.'

'If there be anything wanting to your comfort, name it, Leather-stocking; if it be attainable it is yours.'

6

Take these,' he said, at least take these; secure them about your person, and in the hour of need, they will do you good service.'

The old man took the notes, and examined them with a curious eye.

'This, then, is some of the new-fashioned money that they 've been making at Albany, out of paper! It can't be worth much to they that has n't larning! No, 25 no, lad-take back the stuff; it will do me no sarvice. I took kear to get all the Frenchman's powder afore he broke up, and they say lead grows where I'm going. It is n't even fit for wads, seeing that I use none but leather! Madam Effingham, let an old man kiss your hand, and wish God's choicest blessings on you and your'n.'

'You mean all for the best, lad; I know it; and so does Madam, too: but your 30 ways is n't my ways. 'Tis like the dead there, who thought, when the breath was in them, that one went east, and one went west, to find their heavens; but they'll meet at last; and so shall we, children. 35 cried Elizabeth. 'Do not, Leather-stockYes, ind as you've begun, and we shall meet in the land of the just at last.'

'This is so new! so unexpected!' said Elizabeth, in almost breathless excitement; 'I had thought you meant to live with us 40 and die with us, Natty.'

Once more let me beseech you, stay!'

ing, leave me to grieve for the man who has twice rescued me from death, and who has served those I love so faithfully. For my sake, if not for your own, stay. I shall see you in those frightful dreams that still haunt my nights, dying in poverty and age, by the side of those terrific beasts you slew. There will be no evil, that sickness, want, and solitude can inflict,

'Words are of no avail,' exclaimed her husband; the habits of forty years are not to be dispossessed by the ties of a day. I know you too well to urge you further, 45 that my fancy will not conjure as your

Natty; unless you will let me build you a hut on one of the distant hills, where we can sometimes see you, and know that you are comfortable.'

fate. Stay with us, old man, if not for your own sake, at least for ours.'

Such thoughts and bitter dreams, Madam Effingham,' returned the hunter,

'Don't fear for the Leather-stocking, 50 solemnly, 'will never haunt an innocent children; God will see that his days be provided for, and his mind happy. I know you mean all for the best, but our ways does n't agree. I love the woods, and ye relish the face of man; I eat when hungry, and drink when a-dry; and ye keep stated hours and rules: nay, nay, you even overfeed the dogs, lad, from pure kindness;

parson long. They'll pass away with God's pleasure. And if the cat-a-mounts be yet brought to your eyes in sleep, 'tis not for my sake, but to show you the power of Him that led me there to save you. Trust in God, Madam, and your honorable husband, and the thoughts for an old man like me can never be long nor

THE PRAIRIE

CHAPTER XXVIII

bitter. I pray that the Lord will keep
you in mind the Lord that lives in
clearings as well as in the wilderness-
and bless you, and all that belong to you,
from this time till the great day when the 5
whites shall meet the red-skins in judg-
ment, and justice shall be the law, and
not power.'

Elizabeth raised her head, and offered her colorless cheek to his salute, when 10 he lifted his cap and touched it respectfully. His hand was grasped with convulsive fervor by the youth, who continued silent. The hunter prepared himself for his journey, drawing his belt tighter, and 15 wasting his moments in the little reluctant movements of a sorrowful departure. Once or twice he essayed to speak, but a rising in his throat prevented it. At length he shouldered his rifle, and cried 20 with a clear huntsman's call that echoed through the woods

'He-e-re, he-e-e-re, pups — away, dogs, away; - ye 'll be foot-sore afore ye see the ind of the journey!'

'The witch, in Smithfield, shall be burned to ashes,

And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.' Shakespeare.

The Siouxes had awaited the issue of the foregoing dialogue with commendable patience. Most of the band were restrained by the secret awe with which they regarded the mysterious character of Obed; while a few of the more intelligent chiefs gladly profited by the opportunity to arrange their thoughts for the struggle that was plainly foreseen. Mahtoree, influenced by neither of these feelings, was content to show the trapper how much he conceded to his pleasure; and when the old man discontinued the discourse, he received from the chief a glance that was 25 intended to remind him of the patience with which he had awaited his movements. A profound and motionless silence succeeded the short interruption. Then Mahtoree arose, evidently prepared to speak. First placing himself in an attitude of dignity, he turned a steady and severe look on the whole assembly. The expression of his eye, however, changed as it glanced across the different countenances of his supporters and of his opponents. To the former the look, though stern, was not threatening, while it seemed to tell the latter all the hazards they incurred, in daring to brave the resentment of one so powerful.

The hounds leaped from the earth at this cry, and scenting around the graves and the silent pair, as if conscious of their own destination, they followed humbly at the heels of their master. A 30 short pause succeeded, during which even the youth concealed his face on his grandfather's tomb. When the pride of manhood, however, had suppressed the feelings of nature, he turned to renew his 35 entreaties, but saw that the cemetery was occupied only by himself and his wife.

'He is gone!' cried Effingham.

Elizabeth raised her face, and saw the old hunter standing looking back for a 40 moment, on the verge of the wood. As he caught their glances, he drew his hard hand hastily across his eyes again, waved it on high for an adieu, and uttering a forced cry to his dogs, who were crouch- 45 ing at his feet, he entered the forest.

This was the last that they ever saw of the Leather-stocking, whose rapid movements preceded the pursuit which Judge Temple both ordered and conducted. He 50 had gone far towards the setting sun,-the foremost in that band of pioneers who are opening the way for the march of the nation across the continent.

(1823)

'What is a Sioux?' the chief sagaciously began; he is ruler of the prairies, and master of its beasts. The fishes in 55 the "river of troubled waters" know him, and come at his call. He is a fox in counsel; an eagle in sight; a grizzly bear in combat. A Dahcotah is a man!'

5

After waiting for a low murmur of appro-
bation which followed this flattering por-
trait of his people to subside, the Teton
continued, What is a Pawnee? A thief,
who only steals from women; a red-skin
who is not brave; a hunter that begs for
his venison. In counsel he is a squirrel,
hopping from place to place; he is an
owl, that goes on the prairies at night;
in battle he is an elk, whose legs are long. 10
A Pawnee is a woman.' Another pause
succeeded, during which a yell of delight
broke from several mouths, and a demand
was made that the taunting words should
be translated to the unconscious subject 15
of their biting contempt. The old man
took his cue from the eyes of Mah-
toree, and complied. Hard-Heart listened
gravely, and then, as if apprised that his
time to speak had not arrived, he once so
more bent his look on the vacant air.
The orator watched his countenance, with
an expression that manifested how in-
extinguishable was the hatred he felt for
the only chief, far and near, whose fame 25
might advantageously be compared with
his own. Though disappointed in not
having touched the pride of one whom
he regarded as a boy, he proceeded, what
he considered as far more important, to 30
quicken the tempers of the men of his own
tribe, in order that they might be pre-
pared to work his savage purposes. 'If
the earth was covered with rats, which are
good for nothing,' he said, there would 35
be no room for buffaloes, which give food
and clothes to an Indian. If the prairies
were covered with Pawnees, there would
be no room for the foot of a Dahcotah.
A Loup is a rat, a Sioux a heavy buffalo; 40
let the buffaloes tread upon the rats, and
make room for themselves.

My brothers, a little child has spoken
to you.
He tells you his hair is not gray,
but frozen; that the grass will not grow 45
where a pale-face has died! Does he
know the color of the blood of a Big-
knife? No! I know he does not; he has
never seen it. What Dahcotah besides
Mahtoree has ever struck a pale-face? so
Not one. But Mahtoree must be silent.
Every Teton will shut his ears when he
speaks. The scalps over his lodge were
taken by the women. They were taken by
Mahtoree, and he is a woman. His mouth 55
is shut; he waits for the feasts, to sing
among the girls!'

Notwithstanding the exclamations of

regret and resentment which followed so abasing a declaration, the chief took his seat, as if determined to speak no more. But the murmurs grew louder and more general, and there were threatening symptoms that the council would dissolve itself in confusion; and he arose and resumed his speech, by changing his manner to the fierce and hurried enunciation of a warrior bent on revenge.

'Let my young men go look for Tetao!' he cried; they will find his scalp drying in Pawnee smoke. Where is the son of Bohrecheena? His bones are whiter than the faces of his murderers. Is Mahhah asleep in his lodge? You know it is many moons since he started for the blessed prairies; would he were here, that he might say of what color was the hand that took his scalp!'

In this strain the artful chief continued for many minutes, calling those warriors by name who were known to have met their deaths in battle with the Pawnees, or in some of those lawless frays which so often occurred between the Sioux bands and a class of white men who were but little removed from them in the qualities. of civilization. Time was not given to reflect on the merits, or rather the demerits, of most of the different individuals to whom he alluded, in consequence of the rapid manner in which he ran over their names; but so cunningly did he time his events, and so thrillingly did he make his appeals, aided as they were by the power of his deep-toned and stirring voice, that each of them struck an answering chord in the breast of some one of his auditors.

It was in the midst of one of his highest flights of eloquence, that a man, so aged as to walk with the greatest difficulty, entered the very center of the circle, and took his stand directly in front of the speaker. An ear of great acuteness might possibly have detected that the tones of the orator faltered a little, as his flashing look first fell on this unexpected object; though the change was so trifling, that none but such as thoroughly knew the parties would have suspected it. The stranger had once been as distinguished for his beauty and proportions, as had been his eagle eye for its irresistible and terrible glance. But his skin was now wrinkled, and his features furrowed with so many scars as to have obtained for

him, half a century before, from the
French of the Canadas, a title which has
been borne by so many of the heroes of
France, and which had now been adopted
into the language of the wild horde of
whom we are writing, as the one most ex-
pressive of the deeds of their own brave.
The murmur of Le Balafré,' that ran
through the assembly when he appeared,
announced not only his name, and the 10
high estimation of his character, but how
extraordinary his visit was considered.
As he neither spoke nor moved, however,
the sensation created by his appearance
soon subsided, and then every eye was 15
again turned upon the speaker, and every
ear once more drank in the intoxication
of his maddening appeals.

'My brothers, one foot is turned to the happy hunting-grounds, the other will soon follow, and then an old chief will be seen looking for the prints of his father's moc5 casins, that he may make no mistake, but be sure to come before the Master of Life by the same path as so many good Indians have already traveled. But who will follow? Le Balafré has no son. His oldest has ridden too many Pawnee horses; the bones of the youngest have been gnawed by Konza dogs. Le Balafré has come to look for a young arm on which he may lean, and to find a son, that when he is gone his lodge may not be empty. Tachechana, the skipping fawn of the Tetons, is too weak to prop a warrior who is old. She looks before her, and not backwards. Her mind is in the lodge of her husband.'

It would have been easy to have traced the triumph of Mahtoree in the reflecting 20 countenances of his auditors. It was not long before a look of ferocity and of revenge was to be seen seated on the grim visages of most of the warriors, and each new and crafty allusion to the policy of 25 extinguishing their enemies was followed by fresh and less restrained bursts of approbation. In the height of this success the Teton closed his speech by a rapid appeal to the pride and hardihood of his 30 The Teton himself was content to await native band, and suddenly took his seat.

In the midst of the murmurs of applause which succeeded so remarkable an effort of eloquence, a low, feeble, and hollow voice was heard rising on the ear, as if 35 it rolled from the inmost cavities of the human chest, and gathered strength and energy as it issued into the air. A solemn stillness followed the sounds, and then the lips of the aged man were first seen to 40

move.

'The day of Le Balafré is near its end,' were the first words that were distinctly audible. He is like a buffalo on whom the hair will grow no longer. He 45 will soon be ready to leave his lodge, to go in search of another, that is far from the villages of the Siouxes; therefore, what he has to say concerns not him, but those he leaves behind him. His words 50 are like the fruit on the tree, ripe, and fit to be given to chiefs.

'Many snows have fallen since Le Balafré has been found on the war-path. His blood has been very hot, but it has had 55 time to cool. The Wahcondah gives him dreams of war no longer; he sees that it is better to live in peace.

The enunciation of the veteran warrior had been calm, but distinct and decided. His declaration was received in silence; and though several of the chiefs, who were in the counsels of Mahtoree, turned their eyes on their leader, none presumed to oppose so aged and so venerated a brave in a resolution that was strictly in conformity to the usages of the nation.

the result with seeming composure, though the gleams of ferocity that played about his eye occasionally betrayed the nature of those feelings with which he witnessed a procedure that was likely to rob him of that one of all his intended victims whom he most hated.

In the mean time Le Balafré moved with a slow and painful step towards the captives. He stopped before the person of Hard-Heart, whose faultless form, unchanging eye, and lofty mien he contemplated long, with high and evident satisfaction. Then, making a gesture of authority, he waited until his order had been obeyed, and the youth was released from the post and his bonds by the same blow of the knife. When the young warrior was led nearer to his dimmed and failing sight, the examination was renewed with strictness of scrutiny, and that admiration which physical excellence is so apt to excite in the breast of a sayage.

It is good,' the wary veteran murmured, when he found that all his skill in the requisites of a brave could detect no blemish; this is a leaping panther!

Does
my
Teton?'
The intelligence which lighted the eyes
of the captive betrayed how well he un-
derstood the question, but still he was far 5
too haughty to communicate his ideas
through the medium of a language that
belonged to a hostile people. Some of the
surrounding warriors explained to the old
chief that the captive was a Pawnee- so
Loup.

son speak with the tongue of a

pectedly relieved by the decision of the one most interested in the success of the aged chief's designs.

During the whole of the foregoing scene it would have been difficult to have traced a single distinct emotion in the lineaments of the captive. He had heard his release proclaimed, with the same indifference as the order to bind him to the stake. But now that the moment had arrived when it became necessary to make his election, he spoke in a way to prove that the fortitude which had brought him so distinguished a name, had in no degree de

'My father is very old, but he has not yet looked upon everything,' said HardHeart, in a voice so clear as to be heard by all in presence. He has never seen a buffalo change to a bat; he will never see a Pawnee become a Sioux!'

'My son opened his eyes on the "waters of the wolves," said Le Balafrė, in the language of that nation, but he will shut them in the bend of the "river with a 15 serted him. troubled stream." He was born a Pawnee, but he will die a Dahcotah. Look at me. I am a sycamore that once covered many with my shadow. The leaves are fallen, and the branches begin 20 to drop. But a single sucker is springing from my roots; it is a little vine, and it winds itself about a tree that is green. I have long looked for one fit to grow by my side. Now have I found him. Le 25 tors that it was unalterable. The heart of

Balafré is no longer without a son; his name will not be forgotten when he is gone. Men of the Tetons, I take this youth into my lodge.'

There was a suddenness, and yet a calmness in the manner of delivering this decision which assured most of the audi

Le Balafré, however, was yearning towards the youth, and the fondness of age was not so readily repulsed. Reproving the burst of admiration and triumph to which the boldness of the declaration and the freshened hopes of revenge had given rise, by turning his gleaming eye around the band, the veteran again addressed his adopted child as if his purpose was not to be denied.

'It is well,' he said; ' such are the words a brave should use, that the warriors may see his heart. The day has been when the voice of Le Balafré was loudest among the lodges of the Konzas. But the root of a white hair is wisdom. My child will show the Tetons that he is brave, by striking their enemies. Men of the Dahcotahs, this is my son!'

No one was bold enough to dispute a 30 right that had so often been exercised by warriors far inferior to the present speaker, and the adoption was listened to in grave and respectful silence. Le Balafré took his intended son by the arm, and 35 leading him into the very center of the circle, he stepped aside with an air of triumph, in order that the spectators might approve of his choice. Mahtoree betrayed no evidence of his intentions, but rather 40 seemed to await a moment better suited to the crafty policy of his character. The more experienced and sagacious chiefs distinctly foresaw the utter impossibility of two partisans so renowned, so hostile, 45 and who had so long been rivals in fame, as their prisoner and their native leader, existing amicably in the same tribe. Still the character of Le Balafré was so imposing, and the custom to which he had 50 tion. Then recoiling a step, he raised resorted so sacred, that none dared to lift a voice in opposition to the measure. They watched the result with increasing interest, but with a coldness of demeanor that concealed the nature of their in- 55 quietude. From this state of embarrassment and as it might readily have proved of disorganization, the tribe was unex

The Pawnee hesitated a moment, and then stepping in front of the chief, he took his hard and wrinkled hand, and laid it with reverence on his head, as if to acknowledge the extent of his obliga

his person to its greatest elevation, and looked upon the hostile band by whom he was environed, with an air of loftiness and disdain, as he spoke aloud in the language of the Siouxes:

Hard-Heart has looked at himself within and without. He has thought of all he has done in the hunts and in the