The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2 - J Fenimore Cooper (books to improve english TXT) 📗
- Author: J Fenimore Cooper
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His Intention To Look To The Safety Of The Camp In Person. When All
Was Still, He Walked Out Upon The Prairie, With A Sort Of Sensation
That He Found His Breathing Among The Tents Too Straitened. The Night
Was Well Adapted To Heighten The Feelings, Which Had Been Created By
The Events Of The Day.
The Wind Had Risen With The Moon, And It Was Occasionally Sweeping
Over The Plain, In A Manner That Made It Not Difficult For The
Sentinel To Imagine Strange And Unearthly Sounds Were Mingling In The
Blasts. Yielding To The Extraordinary Impulses Of Which He Was The
Subject, He Cast A Glance Around, To See That All Were Slumbering In
Security, And Then He Strayed Towards The Swell Of Land Already
Mentioned. Here The Squatter Found Himself At A Point That Commanded A
View To The East And To The West. Light Fleecy Clouds Were Driving
Before The Moon, Which Was Cold And Watery Though There Were Moments,
When Its Placid Rays Were Shed From Clear Blue Fields, Seeming To
Soften Objects To Its Own Mild Loveliness.
For The First Time, In A Life Of So Much Wild Adventure, Ishmael Felt
A Keen Sense Of Solitude. The Naked Prairies Began To Assume The Forms
Of Illimitable And Dreary Wastes And The Rushing Of The Wind Sounded
Like The Whisperings Of The Dead. It Was Not Long Before He Thought A
Shriek Was Borne Past Him On A Blast. It Did Not Sound Like A Call
From Earth But It Swept Frightfully Through The Upper Air Mingled With
The Hoarse Accompaniment Of The Wind. The Teeth Of The Squatter Were
Compressed, And His Huge Hand Grasped The Rifle, As If It Would Crush
The Metal. Then Came A Lull, A Fresher Blast, And A Cry Of Horror That
Seemed To Have Been Uttered At The Very Portals Of His Ears. A Sort Of
Echo Burst Involuntarily From His Own Lips, As Men Shout Under
Unnatural Excitement, And Throwing His Rifle Across His Shoulder He
Proceeded Towards The Rock With The Strides Of A Giant.
It Was Not Often That The Blood Of Ishmael Moved At The Rate With
Which The Fluid Circulates In The Veins Of Ordinary Men; But Now He
Felt It Ready To Gush From Every Pore In His Body. The Animal Was
Aroused, In His Most Latent Energies. Ever As He Advanced He Heard
Those Shrieks, Which Sometimes Seemed Ringing Among The Clouds, And
Sometimes Passed So Nigh, As To Appear To Brush The Earth. At Length
There Came A Cry, In Which There Could Be No Delusion, Or To Which The
Imagination Could Lend No Horror. It Appeared To Fill Each Cranny Of
The Air, As The Visible Horizon Is Often Charged To Fulness By One
Dazzling Flash Of The Electric Fluid. The Name Of God Was Distinctly
Audible, But It Was Awfully And Blasphemously Blended With Sounds That
May Not Be Repeated. The Squatter Stopped, And For A Moment He Covered
His Ears With His Hands. When He Withdrew The Latter, A Low And Husky
Voice At His Elbow Asked In Smothered Tones--
"Ishmael, My Man, Heard Ye Nothing?"
Part 3 Chapter 32 Pg 157
"Hist," Returned The Husband, Laying A Powerful Arm On Esther, Without
Manifesting The Smallest Surprise At The Unlooked-For Presence Of His
Wife. "Hist, Woman! If You Have The Fear Of Heaven, Be Still!"
A Profound Silence Succeeded. Though The Wind Rose And Fell As Before,
Its Rushing Was No Longer Mingled With Those Fearful Cries. The Sounds
Were Imposing And Solemn, But It Was The Solemnity And Majesty Of
Nature.
"Let Us Go On," Said Esther; "All Is Hushed."
"Woman, What Has Brought You Here?" Demanded Her Husband, Whose Blood
Had Returned Into Its Former Channels, And Whose Thoughts Had Already
Lost A Portion Of Their Excitement.
"Ishmael, He Murdered Our First-Born; But It Is Not Meet That The Son
Of My Mother Should Lie Upon The Ground, Like The Carrion Of A Dog!"
"Follow," Returned The Squatter, Again Grasping His Rifle, And
Striding Towards The Rock. The Distance Was Still Considerable; And
Their Approach, As They Drew Nigh The Place Of Execution, Was
Moderated By Awe. Many Minutes Had Passed, Before They Reached A Spot
Where They Might Distinguish The Outlines Of The Dusky Objects.
"Where Have You Put The Body?" Whispered Esther. "See, Here Are Pick
And Spade, That A Brother Of Mine May Sleep In The Bosom Of The
Earth!"
The Moon Broke From Behind A Mass Of Clouds, And The Eye Of The Woman
Was Enabled To Follow The Finger Of Ishmael. It Pointed To A Human
Form Swinging In The Wind, Beneath The Ragged And Shining Arm Of The
Willow. Esther Bent Her Head And Veiled Her Eyes From The Sight. But
Ishmael Drew Nigher, And Long Contemplated His Work In Awe, Though Not
In Compunction. The Leaves Of The Sacred Book Were Scattered On The
Ground, And Even A Fragment Of The Shelf Had Been Displaced By The
Kidnapper In His Agony. But All Was Now In The Stillness Of Death. The
Grim And Convulsed Countenance Of The Victim Was At Times Brought Full
Into The Light Of The Moon, And Again As The Wind Lulled, The Fatal
Rope Drew A Dark Line Across Its Bright Disk. The Squatter Raised His
Rifle, With Extreme Care, And Fired. The Cord Was Cut And The Body
Came Lumbering To The Earth A Heavy And Insensible Mass.
Until Now Esther Had Not Moved Nor Spoken. But Her Hand Was Not Slow
To Assist In The Labour Of The Hour. The Grave Was Soon Dug. It Was
Instantly Made To Receive Its Miserable Tenant. As The Lifeless Form
Descended, Esther, Who Sustained The Head, Looked Up Into The Face Of
Her Husband With An Expression Of Anguish, And Said--
"Ishmael, My Man, It Is Very Terrible! I Cannot Kiss The Corpse Of My
Father's Child!"
The Squatter Laid His Broad Hand On The Bosom Of The Dead, And Said--
Part 3 Chapter 32 Pg 158
"Abiram White, We All Have Need Of Mercy; From My Soul Do I Forgive
You! May God In Heaven Have Pity On Your Sins!"
The Woman Bowed Her Face And Imprinted Her Lips Long And Fervently On
The Pallid Forehead Of Her Brother. After This Came The Falling Clods
And All The Solemn Sounds Of Filling A Grave. Esther Lingered On Her
Knees, And Ishmael Stood Uncovered While The Woman Muttered A Prayer.
All Was Then Finished.
On The Following Morning The Teams And Herds Of The Squatter Were Seen
Pursuing Their Course Towards The Settlements. As They Approached The
Confines Of Society The Train Was Blended Among A Thousand Others.
Though Some Of The Numerous Descendants Of This Peculiar Pair Were
Reclaimed From Their Lawless And Semi-Barbarous Lives, The Principals
Of The Family, Themselves, Were Never Heard Of More.
Part 3 Chapter 33 Pg 159
--No Leave Take I; For I Will Ride
As Far As Land Will Let Me, By Your Side.
--Shakspeare.
The Passage Of The Pawnee To His Village Was Interrupted By No Scene
Of Violence. His Vengeance Had Been As Complete As It Was Summary. Not
Even A Solitary Scout Of The Siouxes Was Left On The Hunting Grounds
He Was Obliged To Traverse, And Of Course The Journey Of Middleton's
Party Was As Peaceful As If Made In The Bosom Of The States. The
Marches Were Timed To Meet The Weakness Of The Females. In Short, The
Victors Seemed To Have Lost Every Trace Of Ferocity With Their
Success, And Appeared Disposed To Consult The Most Trifling Of The
Wants Of That Engrossing People, Who Were Daily Encroaching On Their
Rights, And Reducing The Red-Men Of The West, From Their State Of
Proud Independence To The Condition Of Fugitives And Wanderers.
Our Limits Will Not Permit A Detail Of The Triumphal Entry Of The
Conquerors. The Exultation Of The Tribe Was Proportioned To Its
Previous Despondency. Mothers Boasted Of The Honourable Deaths Of
Their Sons; Wives Proclaimed The Honour And Pointed To The Scars Of
Their Husbands, And Indian Girls Rewarded The Young Braves With Songs
Of Triumph. The Trophies Of Their Fallen Enemies Were Exhibited, As
Conquered Standards Are Displayed In More Civilised Regions. The Deeds
Of Former Warriors Were Recounted By The Aged Men, And Declared To Be
Eclipsed By The Glory Of This Victory. While Hard-Heart Himself, So
Distinguished For His Exploits From Boyhood To That Hour, Was
Unanimously Proclaimed And Re-Proclaimed The Worthiest Chief And The
Stoutest Brave That The Wahcondah Had Ever Bestowed On His Most
Favoured Children, The Pawnees Of The Loup.
Notwithstanding The Comparative Security In Which Middleton Found His
Part 3 Chapter 33 Pg 160Recovered Treasure, He Was Not Sorry To See His Faithful And Sturdy
Artillerists Standing Among The Throng, As He Entered In The Wild
Train, And Lifting Their Voices, In A Martial Shout, To Greet His
Return. The Presence Of This Force, Small As It Was, Removed Every
Shadow Of Uneasiness From His Mind. It Made Him Master Of His
Movements, Gave Him Dignity And Importance In The Eyes Of His New
Friends, And Would Enable Him To Overcome The Difficulties Of The Wide
Region Which Still Lay Between The Village Of The Pawnees And The
Nearest Fortress Of His Countrymen. A Lodge Was Yielded To The
Exclusive Possession Of Inez And Ellen; And Even Paul, When He Saw An
Armed Sentinel In The Uniform Of The States, Pacing Before Its
Entrance, Was Content To Stray Among The Dwellings Of The "Red-Skins,"
Prying With But Little Reserve Into Their Domestic Economy, Commenting
Sometimes Jocularly, Sometimes Gravely, And Always Freely, On Their
Different Expedients, Or Endeavouring To Make The Wondering Housewives
Comprehend His Quaint Explanations Of What He Conceived
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