Chapter 6 - Page 2

clearing
-- to come hither to live on game and fight the Frenchers."

"I understand you -- your friend has gone to secure the scalp."

"'Tis his gift, and let him enjoy it. We are white men, and cannot
mangle a dead enemy; but it is honor in the eyes of a red-skin
to do so. It may seem singular to you, Eau-douce, but I've known
white men of great name and character manifest as remarkable idees
consarning their honor, I have."

"A savage will be a savage, Pathfinder, let him keep what company
he may."

"It is well for us to say so, lad; but, as I tell you, white honor
will not always conform to reason or to the will of God. I have
passed days thinking of these matters, out in the silent woods,
and I have come to the opinion, boy, that, as Providence rules all
things, no gift is bestowed without some wise and reasonable end."

"The Serpent greatly exposes himself to the enemy, in order to get
his scalp! This may lose us the day."

"Not in his mind, Jasper. That one scalp has more honor in it,
according to the Sarpent's notions of warfare, than a field covered
with slain, that kept the hair on their heads. Now, there was the
fine young captain of the 60th that threw away his life in trying
to bring off a three-pounder from among the Frenchers in the last
skrimmage we had; he thought he was sarving honor; and I have known
a young ensign wrap himself up in his colors, and go to sleep in
his blood, fancying that he was lying on something softer even than
buffalo-skins."

"Yes, yes; one can understand the merit of not hauling down an
ensign."

"And these are Chingachgook's colors -- he will keep them to show
his children's children -- " Here the Pathfinder interrupted
himself, shook his head in melancholy, and slowly added, "Ah's
me! no shoot of the old Mohican stem remains! He has no children
to delight with his trophies; no tribe to honor by his deeds; he
is a lone man in this world, and yet he stands true to his training
and his gifts! There is something honest and respectable in these,
you must allow, Jasper."

Here a great outcry from the Iroquois was succeeded by the quick
reports of their rifles, and so eager did the enemy become, in the
desire to drive the Delaware back from his victim, that a dozen
rushed into the river, several of whom even advanced near a hundred
feet into the foaming current, as if they actually meditated a
serious sortie. But Chingachgook continued unmoved, as he remained
unhurt by the missiles, accomplishing his task with the dexterity
of long habit. Flourishing his reeking trophy, he gave the war-whoop
in its most frightful intonations,