Page 485 - THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS

The Last of the Mohicans

which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed 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 by his inexorable
judge. As the weapon passed slowly into his heart he even
smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful than
he had anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at the feet
of the rigid and unyielding form of Uncas.
The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the
torch to the earth, and buried everything in darkness. The
whole shuddering group of spectators glided from the
lodge like troubled sprites; and Duncan thought that he
and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an Indian
judgment had now become its only tenants.

484 of 698