by one of mine, within the memory of thy youngest warrior."
"Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchemanne fought for the hunting grounds of the Delawares? Then Tamenund was a chief, and first laid aside the bow for the lightning of the pale-faces—"
"Nor yet then," interrupted Cora again, "by many ages; I speak of a thing of yesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not!"
"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with a touching pathos in his hollow voice, "that the children of the Lenape were masters of the world! The fishes of the salt-lake, the birds, the beasts and the Mengwe of the woods, owned them for Sagamores."
Cora bowed her head in the anguish of disappointment, and, for a bitter moment, struggled with her chagrin. Then elevating her rich features and beaming eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely less penetrating than the unearthly voice of the patriarch himself.
"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"
The old man looked down upon her,
