 placed
himself in a dignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the
withered squaw, already mentioned, moved into the circle, in a slow, sideling
sort of a dance, holding the torch, and muttering the indistinct words of what
might have been a species of incantation. Though her presence was altogether an
intrusion, it was unheeded.
    Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a manner, as to cast
its red glare on his person, and to expose the slightest emotion of his
countenance. The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude; and his eye,
so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt steadily on the
distance, as though it penetrated the obstacles which impeded the view, and
looked into futurity. Satisfied with her examination, she left him, with a
slight expression of pleasure, and proceeded to practise the same trying
experiment on her delinquent countryman.
    The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a finely moulded
form was concealed by his attire. The light rendered every limb and joint
discernible, and Duncan turned away in horror, when he saw they were writhing in
irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low and plaintive howl, at the
sad and shameful spectacle, when the chief put forth his hand, and gently pushed
her aside.
    »Reed-that-bends,« he said, addressing the young culprit by name, and in his
proper language, »though the Great Spirit has made you pleasant to the eyes, it
would have been better that you had not been born. Your tongue is loud in the
village, but in battle it is still. None of my young men strike the tomahawk
deeper into the war-post - none of them so lightly on the Yengeese. The enemy
know the shape of your back, but they have never seen the colour of your eyes.
Three times have they called on you to come, and as often did you forget to
answer. Your name will never be mentioned, again, in your tribe - it is already
forgotten.«
    As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing impressively between each
sentence, the culprit raised his face, in deference to the other's rank and
years. Shame, horror, and pride, struggled in its lineaments. His eye, which was
contracted with inward anguish, gleamed around on the persons of those whose
breath was his fame, and the latter emotion, for an instant predominated. He
arose to his feet, and baring his bosom, looked steadily on the keen, glittering
knife, that was already upheld
