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.They dwelt upon her matchless beauty, and on her noble resolution, without the taint of envy, and as angels may be thought to delight in a superior excellence; adding, that these endowments should prove more than equivalent for any little imperfections in her education.After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to the maiden herself, in the low, soft language of tenderness and love.They exhorted her to be of cheerful mind, and to fear nothing for her future welfare.A hunter would be her companion, who knew how to provide for her smallest wants; and a warrior was at her side, who was able to protect her against every danger.They promised that her path should be pleasant, and her burthen light.They cautioned her against unavailing regrets for the friends of her youth, and the scenes where her fathers had dwelt; assuring her that the »blessed hunting grounds of the Lenape« contained vales as pleasant, streams as pure, and flowers as sweet, as the »Heaven of the pale-faces.« They advised her to be attentive to the wants of her companion, and never to forget the distinction which the Manitto had so wisely established between them.Then, in a wild burst of their chant, they sung, with united voices, the temper of the Mohican's mind.They pronounced him noble, manly, and generous; all that became a warrior, and all that a maid might love.Clothing their ideas in the most remote and subtle images, they betrayed, that, in the short period of their intercourse, they had discovered, with the intuitive perception of their sex, the truant disposition of his inclinations.The Delaware girls had found no favour in his eyes! He was of a race that had once been lords on the shores of the salt lake, and his wishes had led him back to a people who dwelt about the graves of his fathers.Why should not such a predilection be encouraged! That she was of a blood purer and richer than the rest of her nation, any eye might have seen.That she was equal to the dangers and daring of a life in the woods, her conduct had proved; and, now, they added, the ›wise one of the earth‹ had transplanted her to a place where she would find congenial spirits, and might be for ever happy.Then, with another transition in voice and subject, allusions were made to the virgin who wept in the adjacent lodge.They compared her to flakes of snow; as pure, as white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in the fierce heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of winter.They doubted not that she was lovely in the eyes of the young chief, whose skin and whose sorrow seemed so like her own; but, though far from expressing such a preference, it was evident, they deemed her less excellent than the maid they mourned.Still they denied her no meed, her rare charms might properly claim.Her ringlets were compared to the exuberant tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of the heavens, and the most spotless cloud, with its glowing flush of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive than her bloom.During these and similar songs, nothing was audible but the murmurs of the music; relieved, as it was, or rather rendered terrible, by those occasional bursts of grief, which might be called its choruses.The Delawares themselves listened like charmed men; and it was very apparent, by the variations of their speaking countenances, how deep and true was their sympathy.Even David was not reluctant to lend his ears to the tones of voices so sweet; and long ere the chant was ended, his gaze announced that his soul was enthralled.The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the words were intelligible, suffered himself to be a little aroused from his meditative posture, and bent his face aside, to catch their meaning, as the girls proceeded.But when they spoke of the future prospects of Cora and Uncas, he shook his head, like one who knew the error of their simple creed, and resuming his reclining attitude, he maintained it until the ceremony – if that might be called a ceremony, in which feeling was so deeply imbued – was finished.Happily for the self-command of both Heyward and Munro, they knew not the meaning of the wild sounds they heard.Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest manifested by the native part of the audience.His look never changed throughout the whole of the scene, nor did a muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at the wildest, or the most pathetic parts of the lamentation.The cold and senseless remains of his son was all to him, and every other sense but that of sight seemed frozen, in order that his eyes might take their final gaze at those lineaments he had so long loved, and which were now about to be closed for ever from his view.In this stage of the funeral obsequies, a warrior, much renowned for deeds in arms, and more especially for services in the recent combat, a man of stern and grave demeanour, advanced slowly from the crowd, and placed himself nigh the person of the dead.»Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki!« he said, addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as if the empty clay retained the faculties of the animated man; »thy time has been like that of the sun when in the trees; thy glory brighter than his light at noon-day.Thou art gone, youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyandots are clearing the briars from thy path to the world of spirits.Who that saw thee in battle, would believe that thou couldst die! Who before thee hast ever shown Uttawa the way into the fight.Thy feet were like the wings of eagles; thine arm heavier than falling branches from the pine; and thy voice like the Manitto, when he speaks in the clouds [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]