Page 649 - THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS
P. 649
The Last of the Mohicans
Chapter 32
‘But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase, Till
the great king, without a ransom paid, To her own Chrysa
send the black-eyed maid.’—Pope
During the time Uncas was making this disposition of
his forces, the woods were as still, and, with the exception
of those who had met in council, apparently as much
untenanted as when they came fresh from the hands of
their Almighty Creator. The eye could range, in every
direction, through the long and shadowed vistas of the
trees; but nowhere was any object to be seen that did not
properly belong to the peaceful and slumbering scenery.
Here and there a bird was heard fluttering among the
branches of the beeches, and occasionally a squirrel
dropped a nut, drawing the startled looks of the party for a
moment to the place; but the instant the casual
interruption ceased, the passing air was heard murmuring
above their heads, along that verdant and undulating
surface of forest, which spread itself unbroken, unless by
stream or lake, over such a vast region of country. Across
the tract of wilderness which lay between the Delawares
and the village of their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of
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