Did they fear God, and live in peace?
He has seen the land pass away from the Fire-eater, and his children, and the child of his child, and a new chief set over the country.
Did they live in peace who did this? did they fear God?”
“Such is the custom of the whites, John.
Do not the Delawares fight, and exchange their lands for powder, and blankets, and merchandise?”
The Indian turned his dark eyes on his companion, and kept them there with a scrutiny that alarmed her a little.
“Where are the blankets and merchandise that bought the right of the Fire-eater?” he replied in a more animated voice; “are they with him in his wigwam?
Did they say to him, Brother, sell us your land, and take this gold, this silver, these blankets, these rifles, or even this rum?
No; they tore it front him, as a scalp is torn from an enemy; and they that did it looked not behind them, to see whether he lived or died.
Do such men live in peace and fear the Great Spirit?”
“But you hardly understand the circumstances,” said Elizabeth, more embarrassed than she would own, even to herself.
“If you knew our laws and customs better, you would Judge differently of our acts.
Do not believe evil of my father, old Mohegan, for he is just and good.”
“The brother of Miquon is good, and he will do right.
I have said it to Hawk-eye—-I have said it to the Young Eagle that the brother of Miquon would do justice.”
“Whom call you the Young Eagle?” said Elizabeth, averting her face from the gaze of the Indian, as she asked the question; “whence comes he, and what are his rights?”
“Has my daughter lived so long with him to ask this question?” returned the Indian warily.
“Old age freezes up the blood, as the frosts cover the great spring in winter; but youth keeps the streams of the blood open like a sun in the time of blossoms.
The Young Eagle has eyes; had he no tongue?”
The loveliness to which the old warrior alluded was in no degree diminished by his allegorical speech; for the blushes of the maiden who listened covered her burning cheeks till her dark eyes seemed to glow with their reflection; but, after struggling a moment with shame, she laughed, as if unwilling to understand him seriously, and replied in pleasantry:
“Not to make me the mistress of his secret.
He is too much of a Delaware to tell his secret thoughts to a woman.”
“Daughter, the Great Spirit made your father with a white skin, and he made mine with a red; but he colored both their hearts with blood.
When young, it is swift and warm; but when old, it is still and cold.
Is there difference below the skin?
No. Once John had a woman.
She was the mother of so many sons”—he raised his hand with three fingers elevated—“and she had daughters that would have made the young Delawares happy.
She was kind, daughter, and what I said she did.
You have different fashions; but do you think John did not love the wife of his youth—the mother of his children?”
“And what has become of your family, John—your wife and your children?” asked Elizabeth, touched by the Indian’s manner.
“Where is the ice that covered the great spring?
It is melted, and gone with the waters.
John has lived till all his people have left him for the land of spirits; his time has come, and he is ready.”
Mohegan dropped his head in his blanket, and sat in silence.
Miss Temple knew not what to say.
She wished to draw the thoughts of the old warrior from his gloomy recollections, but there was a dignity in his sorrow, and in his fortitude, that repressed her efforts to speak.
After a long pause, however, she renewed the discourse by asking:
“Where is the Leather-Stocking, John?
I have brought this canister of powder at his request; but he is nowhere to be seen.
Will you take charge of it, and see it delivered?”
The Indian raised his head slowly and looked earnestly at the gift, which she put into his hand.
“This is the great enemy of my nation.
Without this, when could the white man drive the Delawares?
Daughter, the Great Spirit gave your fathers to know how to make guns and powder, that they might sweep the Indians from the land.
There will soon be no red-skin in the country.
When John has gone, the last will leave these hills, and his family will be dead.”
The aged warrior stretched his body forward, leaning an elbow on his knee, and appeared to be taking a parting look at the objects of the vale, which were still visible through the misty atmosphere, though the air seemed to thicken at each moment around Miss Temple, who became conscious of an increased difficulty of respiration.
The eye of Mohegan changed gradually from its sorrowful expression to a look of wildness that might be supposed to border on the inspiration of a prophet, as he continued:
“But he will go on to the country where his fathers have met.
The game shall be plenty as the Ash in the lakes. No woman shall cry for meat: no Mingo can ever come The chase shall be for children; and all just red men shall live together as brothers.”