The loveliness to which the old warrior alluded was in no degree diminished by his allegorical speech; for the blushes of the maiden who listened, covered her burning cheeks, till her dark eyes seemed to glow with their reflection; but, after struggling a moment with her shame, she laughed, as if unwilling to understand him seriously, and replied in a tone of pleasantry—
"Not to make me the mistress of his secret. He is too much of a Delaware, to tell his secret thoughts to a woman."
"Daughter, the Great Spirit made your father with a white skin, and he made mine with a red; but he coloured both their hearts with blood. When young, it is swift and warm; but when old, it is still and cold. Is there difference below the skin? No. Once John had a woman. She was the mother of so many sons"—he raised his hand with three fingers elevated—"and she had daughters that would have made the young Delawares happy. She was kind, daughter, and what I said she did. You have different fashions; but do you think John did not love the wife of his youth—the mother of his children!"
"And what has become of your family, John, your wife and your children?" asked Elizabeth, touched by the melancholy of the Indian's manner.
"Where is the ice that covered the great spring: It is melted, and gone with the waters. John has lived till all his people have left him for the land of spirits; but his time has come, and he is ready."
Mohegan dropped his head in his blanket, and sat in silence. Miss Temple knew not what to say. She wished to draw the thoughts of the old warrior from his gloomy recollections, but there was a dignity in his sorrow, and in his fortitude,
