The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2 - J Fenimore Cooper (books to improve english TXT) 📗

Never Seen It. What Dahcotah,  Besides Part 3 Chapter 28 Pg 110

Mahtoree,  Has Ever Struck A Pale-Face? 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 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 Colour 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 Civilisation.

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

Centre 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 Expressive Of The Deeds Of Their Own Brave. The Murmur Of

Le Balafre,  That Ran Through The Assembly When He Appeared,  Announced

Not Only His Name And The 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 Again Turned Upon The Speaker,  And Every Ear Once

Part 3 Chapter 28 Pg 111

More Drunk In The Intoxication Of His Maddening Appeals.

 

It Would Have Been Easy To Have Traced The Triumph Of Mahtoree,  In The

Reflecting 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 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 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 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 Move.

 

"The Day Of Le Balafre Is Near Its End," Were The First Words That

Were Distinctly Audible. "He Is Like A Buffaloe,  On Whom The Hair Will

Grow No Longer. He 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 Are Like The Fruit On The Tree,  Ripe And Fit To

Be Given To Chiefs.

 

"Many Snows Have Fallen Since Le Balafre Has Been Found On The War-

Path. His Blood Has Been Very Hot,  But It Has Had Time To Cool. The

Wahcondah Gives Him Dreams Of War No Longer; He Sees That It Is Better

To Live In Peace.

 

"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 Moccasins,  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 Travelled. But Who Will Follow? Le

Balafre Has No Son. His Oldest Has Ridden Too Many Pawnee Horses; The

Bones Of The Youngest Have Been Gnawed By Konza Dogs! Le Balafre 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."

 

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 Teton Himself Was Content To Await 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.

Part 3 Chapter 28 Pg 112

 

In The Mean Time Le Balafre 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 Awaited,  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 Savage.

 

"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 Son Speak With The Tongue Of A Teton?"

 

The Intelligence,  Which Lighted The Eyes Of The Captive,  Betrayed How

Well He Understood The Question,  But Still He Was Far 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-Loup.

 

"My Son Opened His Eyes On The 'Waters Of The Wolves,'" Said Le

Balafre,  In The Language Of That Nation,  "But He Will Shut Them In The

Bend Of The 'River With A 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 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

Balafre 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."

 

No One Was Bold Enough To Dispute A 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 Balafre

Took His Intended Son By The Arm,  And Leading Him Into The Very Centre

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 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,  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 Balafre Was So Imposing,  And

The Custom To Which He Had 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 Demeanour That Concealed

The Nature Of Their Inquietude. From This State Of Embarrassment,  And

As It Might Readily Have Proved Of Disorganisation,  The Tribe Was

Unexpectedly 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