Chapter 16 - Page 2

inhabitants
of the barns still kept aloof, as if warned by their instinct that danger
lurked around the site of their ancient abodes. In all other respects, the
view was calm, and lovely as ever. The sun shone from a sky in which no
cloud was visible. The blandness of the winds, and the brightness of the
heavens, lent an air of animation to even the leafless forest; and the
white vapor, that continued to rise from the smouldering piles, floated
high over the hills, as the peaceful smoke of the cottage curled above its
roof. The ruthless band which had occasioned this sudden change was
already far on the way to its villages, or, haply, it sought some other
scene of blood. A skilful eye might have traced the route these fierce
creatures of the woods had taken, by fences hurled from their places, or
by the carcass of some animal that had fallen, in the wantonness of
victory, beneath a parting blow. Of all these wild beings, one only
remained; and he appeared to linger at the spot in the indulgence of
feelings that were foreign to those passions that had so recently stirred
the bosoms of his comrades.

It was with a slow, noiseless step that the solitary loiterer moved about
the scene of destruction. He was first seen treading, with a thoughtful
air, among the ruins of the buildings that had formed the quadrangle, and
then, seemingly led by an interest in the fate of those who had so
miserably perished, he drew nearer to the pile in its centre. The nicest
and most attentive ear could not have detected the fall of his foot, as
the Indian placed it within the gloomy circle of the ruined wall; nor is
the breathing of the infant less audible, than the manner in which he drew
breath, while standing in a place so lately consecrated by the agony and
martyrdom of a Christian family. It was the boy called Miantonimoh,
seeking some melancholy memorial of those with whom he had so long dwelt
in amity, if not in confidence.

One skilled in the history of savage passions might have found a clue to
the workings of the mind of the youth, in the play of his speaking
features. As his dark glittering eye rolled over the smouldering
fragments, it seemed to search keenly for some vestige of the human form.
The element however had done its work too greedily, to have left many
visible memorials of its fury. An object resembling that he sought,
however, caught his glance, and stepping lightly to the spot where it lay,
he raised the bone of a powerful arm from the brands. The flashing of his
eye, as it lighted on this sad object, was wild and exulting, like that
of the savage when he first feels the fierce joy of glutted vengeance; but
gentler recollections came with the gaze, and kinder feelings evidently
usurped the place of the