["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"But though the beast of game\n  The privilege of chase may claim;\n  Though space and law the stag we lend\n  Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend;\n  Who ever recked, where, how, or when\n  The prowling fox was trapped or slain?\" _Lady of the Lake._\n\n\nIt is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, like those of the\nmore instructed whites, guarded by the presence of armed men. Well\ninformed of the approach of every danger, while it is yet at a distance,\nthe Indian generally rests secure under his knowledge of the signs of\nthe forest, and the long and difficult paths that separate him from\nthose he has most reason to dread. But the enemy who, by any lucky\nconcurrence of accidents, has found means to elude the vigilance of the\nscouts, will seldom meet with sentinels nearer home to sound the alarm. In addition to this general usage, the tribes friendly to the French\nknew too well the weight of the blow that had just been struck, to\napprehend any immediate danger from the hostile nations that were\ntributary to the crown of Britain. When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves in the centre of the\nchildren, who played the antics already mentioned, it was with the least\nprevious intimation of their approach. But so soon as they were\nobserved, the whole of the juvenile pack raised, by common consent, a\nshrill and warning whoop; and then sank, as it were, by magic, from\nbefore the sight of their visitors. The naked, tawny bodies of the\ncrouching urchins blended so nicely, at that hour, with the withered\nherbage, that at first it seemed as if the earth had, in truth,\nswallowed up their forms; though when surprise permitted Duncan to bend\nhis look more curiously about the spot, he found it everywhere met by\ndark, quick, and rolling eyeballs. Gathering no encouragement from this startling presage of the nature of\nthe scrutiny he was likely to undergo from the more mature judgments of\nthe men, there was an instant when the young soldier would have\nretreated. It was, however, too late to appear to hesitate. The cry of\nthe children had drawn a dozen warriors to the door of the nearest\nlodge, where they stood clustered in a dark and savage group, gravely\nawaiting the nearer approach of those who had unexpectedly come among\nthem. David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led the way with a\nsteadiness that no slight obstacle was likely to disconcert, into this\nvery building. It was the principal edifice of the village, though\nroughly constructed of the bark and branches of trees; being the lodge\nin which the tribe held its councils and public meetings during their\ntemporary residence on the borders of the English province. Duncan found\nit difficult to assume the necessary appearance of unconcern, as he\nbrushed the dark and powerful frames of the savages who thronged its\nthreshold; but, conscious that his existence depended on his presence of\nmind, he trusted to the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps he\nclosely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally his thoughts\nfor the occasion. His blood curdled when he found himself in absolute\ncontact with such fierce and implacable enemies; but he so far mastered\nhis feelings as to pursue his way into the centre of the lodge, with an\nexterior that did not betray the weakness. Imitating the example of the\ndeliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle of fragrant brush from beneath a pile\nthat filled a corner of the hut, and seated himself in silence. So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant warriors fell back\nfrom the entrance, and arranging themselves about him, they seemed\npatiently to await the moment when it might comport with the dignity of\nthe stranger to speak. By far the greater number stood leaning, in lazy,\nlounging attitudes, against the upright posts that supported the crazy\nbuilding, while three or four of the oldest and most distinguished of\nthe chiefs placed themselves on the earth a little more in advance. A flaring torch was burning in the place, and sent its red glare from\nface to face and figure to figure, as it waved in the currents of air. Duncan profited by its light to read the probable character of his\nreception, in the countenances of his hosts. But his ingenuity availed\nhim little, against the cold artifices of the people he had encountered. The chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at his person, keeping their\neyes on the ground, with an air that might have been intended for\nrespect, but which it was quite easy to construe into distrust. The men\nin shadow were less reserved. Duncan soon detected their searching, but\nstolen looks, which, in truth, scanned his person and attire inch by\ninch; leaving no emotion of the countenance, no gesture, no line of the\npaint, nor even the fashion of a garment, unheeded, and without comment. At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprinkled with gray, but\nwhose sinewy limbs and firm tread announced that he was still equal to\nthe duties of manhood, advanced out of the gloom of a corner, whither he\nhad probably posted himself to make his observations unseen, and spoke. He used the language of the Wyandots, or Hurons; his words were,\nconsequently, unintelligible to Heyward, though they seemed, by the\ngestures that accompanied them, to be uttered more in courtesy than\nanger. The latter shook his head, and made a gesture indicative of his\ninability to reply. \"Do none of my brothers speak the French or the English?\" he said, in\nthe former language, looking about him from countenance to countenance,\nin hopes of finding a nod of assent. Though more than one had turned, as if to catch the meaning of his\nwords, they remained unanswered. \"I should be grieved to think,\" continued Duncan, speaking slowly, and\nusing the simplest French of which he was the master, \"to believe, that\nnone of this wise and brave nation understand the language that the\n'Grand Monarque' uses when he talks to his children. His heart would be\nheavy did he believe his red warriors paid him so little respect!\" A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no movement of a limb,\nnor any expression of an eye, betrayed the impression produced by his\nremark. Duncan, who knew that silence was a virtue among his hosts,\ngladly had recourse to the custom, in order to arrange his ideas. At\nlength the same warrior who had before addressed him replied, by dryly\ndemanding, in the language of the Canadas--\n\n\"When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it with the tongue of a\nHuron?\" \"He knows no difference in his children, whether the color of the skin\nbe red, or black, or white,\" returned Duncan, evasively; \"though chiefly\nis he satisfied with the brave Hurons.\" \"In what manner will he speak,\" demanded the wary chief, \"when the\nrunners count to him the scalps which five nights ago grew on the heads\nof the Yengeese?\" \"They were his enemies,\" said Duncan, shuddering involuntarily; \"and,\ndoubtless, he will say, It is good; my Hurons are very gallant.\" \"Our Canada father does not think it. Instead of looking forward to\nreward his Indians, his eyes are turned backward. He sees the dead\nYengeese, but no Huron. What can this mean?\" \"A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than tongues. He looks to\nsee that no enemies are on his trail.\" \"The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the Horican,\" returned\nthe savage, gloomily. \"His ears are open to the Delawares, who are not\nour friends, and they fill them with lies.\" \"It cannot be. See; he has bid me, who am a man that knows the art of\nhealing, to go to his children, the red Hurons of the great lakes, and\nask if any are sick!\" Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the character Duncan had\nassumed. Every eye was simultaneously bent on his person, as if to\ninquire into the truth or falsehood of the declaration, with an\nintelligence and keenness that caused the subject of their scrutiny to\ntremble for the result. He was, however, relieved again by the former\nspeaker. \"Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their skins?\" the Huron coldly\ncontinued; \"we have heard them boast that their faces were pale.\" \"When an Indian chief comes among his white fathers,\" returned Duncan,\nwith great steadiness, \"he lays aside his buffalo robe, to carry the\nshirt that is offered him. My brothers have given me paint, and I wear\nit.\" A low murmur of applause announced that the compliment to the tribe was\nfavorably received. The elderly chief made a gesture of commendation,\nwhich was answered by most of his companions, who each threw forth a\nhand, and uttered a brief exclamation of pleasure.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-03 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Duncan began to\nbreathe more freely, believing that the weight of his examination was\npast; and as he had already prepared a simple and probable tale to\nsupport his pretended occupation, his hopes of ultimate success grew\nbrighter. After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his thoughts, in order\nto make a suitable answer to the declaration their guest had just given,\nanother warrior arose, and placed himself in an attitude to speak. While\nhis lips were yet in the act of parting, a low but fearful sound arose\nfrom the forest, and was immediately succeeded by a high, shrill yell,\nthat was drawn out, until it equalled the longest and most plaintive\nhowl of the wolf. The sudden and terrible interruption caused Duncan to\nstart from his seat, unconscious of everything but the effect produced\nby so frightful a cry. At the same moment, the warriors glided in a body\nfrom the lodge, and the outer air was filled with loud shouts, that\nnearly drowned those awful sounds, which were still ringing beneath the\narches of the woods. Unable to command himself any longer, the youth\nbroke from the place, and presently stood in the centre of a disorderly\nthrong, that included nearly everything having life, within the limits\nof the encampment. Men, women, and children; the aged, the infirm, the\nactive, and the strong, were alike abroad; some exclaiming aloud, others\nclapping their hands with a joy that seemed frantic, and all expressing\ntheir savage pleasure in some unexpected event. Though astounded, at\nfirst, by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to find its solution by\nthe scene that followed. There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to exhibit those\nbright openings among the tree-tops, where different paths left the\nclearing to enter the depths of the wilderness. Beneath one of them, a\nline of warriors issued from the woods, and advanced slowly towards the\ndwellings. One in front bore a short pole, on which, as it afterwards\nappeared, were suspended several human scalps. The startling sounds that\nDuncan had heard were what the whites have not inappropriately called\nthe \"death-halloo;\" and each repetition of the cry was intended to\nannounce to the tribe the fate of an enemy. Thus far the knowledge of\nHeyward assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew that the\ninterruption was caused by the unlooked-for return of a successful\nwar-party, every disagreeable sensation was quieted in inward\ncongratulation, for the opportune relief and insignificance it conferred\non himself. When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the lodges, the newly\narrived warriors halted. Their plaintive and terrific cry, which was\nintended to represent equally the wailings of the dead and the triumph\nof the victors, had entirely ceased. One of their number now called\naloud, in words that were far from appalling, though not more\nintelligible to those for whose ears they were intended, than their\nexpressive yells. It would be difficult to convey a suitable idea of the\nsavage ecstasy with which the news thus imparted was received. The whole\nencampment, in a moment, became a scene of the most violent bustle and\ncommotion. The warriors drew their knives, and flourishing them, they\narranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane that extended from the\nwar-party to the lodges. The squaws seized clubs, axes, or whatever\nweapon of offence first offered itself to their hands, and rushed\neagerly to act their part in the cruel game that was at hand. Even the\nchildren would not be excluded; but boys, little able to wield the\ninstruments, tore the tomahawks from the belts of their fathers, and\nstole into the ranks, apt imitators of the savage traits exhibited by\ntheir parents. Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, and a wary and\naged squaw was occupied in firing as many as might serve to light the\ncoming exhibition. As the flame arose, its power exceeded that of the\nparting day, and assisted to render objects at the same time more\ndistinct and more hideous. The whole scene formed a striking picture,\nwhose frame was composed of the dark and tall border of pines. The\nwarriors just arrived were the most distant figures. A little in advance\nstood two men, who were apparently selected from the rest, as the\nprincipal actors in what was to follow. The light was not strong enough\nto render their features distinct, though it was quite evident that they\nwere governed by very different emotions. While one stood erect and\nfirm, prepared to meet his fate like a hero, the other bowed his head,\nas if palsied by terror or stricken with shame. The high-spirited Duncan\nfelt a powerful impulse of admiration and pity towards the former,\nthough no opportunity could offer to exhibit his generous emotions. He\nwatched his slightest movement, however, with eager eyes; and as he\ntraced the fine outline of his admirably proportioned and active frame,\nhe endeavored to persuade himself, that if the powers of man, seconded\nby such noble resolution, could bear one harmless through so severe a\ntrial, the youthful captive before him might hope for success in the\nhazardous race he was about to run. Insensibly the young man drew nigher\nto the swarthy lines of the Hurons, and scarcely breathed, so intense\nbecame his interest in the spectacle. Just then the signal yell was\ngiven, and the momentary quiet which had preceded it was broken by a\nburst of cries, that far exceeded any before heard. The most abject of\nthe two victims continued motionless; but the other bounded from the\nplace at the cry, with the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead of\nrushing through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he just\nentered the dangerous defile, and before time was given for a single\nblow, turned short, and leaping the heads of a row of children, he\ngained at once the exterior and safer side of the formidable array. The\nartifice was answered by a hundred voices raised in imprecations; and\nthe whole of the excited multitude broke from their order, and spread\nthemselves about the place in wild confusion. A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness on the place,\nwhich resembled some unhallowed and supernatural arena, in which\nmalicious demons had assembled to act their bloody and lawless rites. The forms in the background looked like unearthly beings, gliding before\nthe eye, and cleaving the air with frantic and unmeaning gestures; while\nthe savage passions of such as passed the flames, were rendered\nfearfully distinct by the gleams that shot athwart their inflamed\nvisages. It will easily be understood, that amid such a concourse of vindictive\nenemies, no breathing time was allowed the fugitive. There was a single\nmoment when it seemed as if he would have reached the forest, but the\nwhole body of his captors threw themselves before him, and drove him\nback into the centre of his relentless persecutors. Turning like a\nheaded deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow, through a pillar\nof forked flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he appeared\non the opposite side of the clearing. Here too he was met and turned by\na few of the older and more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried the\nthrong, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then several moments\nsucceeded, during which Duncan believed the active and courageous young\nstranger was lost. Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of human forms tossed and\ninvolved in inexplicable confusion. Arms, gleaming knives, and\nformidable clubs, appeared above them, but the blows were evidently\ngiven at random. The awful effect was heightened by the piercing shrieks\nof the women and the fierce yells of the warriors. Now and then Duncan\ncaught a glimpse of a light form cleaving the air in some desperate\nbound, and he rather hoped than believed that the captive yet retained\nthe command of his astonishing powers of activity. Suddenly the\nmultitude rolled backward, and approached the spot where he himself\nstood. The heavy body in the rear pressed upon the women and children in\nfront, and bore them to the earth. The stranger reappeared in the\nconfusion. Human power could not, however, much longer endure so severe\na trial. Of this the captive seemed conscious. Profiting by the\nmomentary opening, he darted from among the warriors, and made a\ndesperate, and, what seemed to Duncan, a final effort to gain the wood. As if aware that no danger was to be apprehended from the young soldier,\nthe fugitive nearly brushed his person in his flight. A tall and\npowerful Huron, who had husbanded his forces, pressed close upon his\nheels, and with an uplifted arm menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrust\nforth a foot, and the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong, many\nfeet in advance of his intended victim.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-03, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Thought itself is not quicker\nthan was the motion with which the latter profited by the advantage; he\nturned, gleamed like a meteor again before the eyes of Duncan, and at\nthe next moment, when the latter recovered his recollection, and gazed\naround in quest of the captive, he saw him quietly leaning against a\nsmall painted post, which stood before the door of the principal lodge. Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the escape might prove fatal\nto himself, Duncan left the place without delay. He followed the crowd,\nwhich drew nigh the lodges, gloomy and sullen, like any other multitude\nthat had been disappointed in an execution. Curiosity, or perhaps a\nbetter feeling, induced him to approach the stranger. He found him,\nstanding with one arm cast about the protecting post, and breathing\nthick and hard, after his exertions, but disdaining to permit a single\nsign of suffering to escape. His person was now protected by immemorial\nand sacred usage, until the tribe in council had deliberated and\ndetermined on his fate. It was not difficult, however, to foretell the\nresult, if any presage could be drawn from the feelings of those who\ncrowded the place. There was no term of abuse known to the Huron vocabulary that the\ndisappointed women did not lavishly expend on the successful stranger. They flouted at his efforts, and told him, with bitter scoffs, that his\nfeet were better than his hands; and that he merited wings, while he\nknew not the use of an arrow or a knife. To all this the captive made no\nreply; but was content to preserve an attitude in which dignity was\nsingularly blended with disdain. Exasperated as much by his composure as\nby his good-fortune, their words became unintelligible, and were\nsucceeded by shrill, piercing yells. Just then the crafty squaw, who had\ntaken the necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way through\nthe throng, and cleared a place for herself in front of the captive. The\nsqualid and withered person of this hag might well have obtained for her\nthe character of possessing more than human cunning. Throwing back her\nlight vestment, she stretched forth her long skinny arm, in derision,\nand using the language of the Lenape, as more intelligible to the\nsubject of her gibes, she commenced aloud--\n\n\"Look you, Delaware!\" she said, snapping her fingers in his face; \"your\nnation is a race of women, and the hoe is better fitted to your hands\nthan the gun. Your squaws are the mothers of deer; but if a bear, or a\nwild cat, or a serpent were born among you, ye would flee. The Huron\ngirls shall make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband.\" A burst of savage laughter succeeded this attack, during which the soft\nand musical merriment of the younger females strangely chimed with the\ncracked voice of their older and more malignant companion. But the\nstranger was superior to all their efforts. His head was immovable; nor\ndid he betray the slightest consciousness that any were present, except\nwhen his haughty eye rolled towards the dusky forms of the warriors, who\nstalked in the background, silent and sullen observers of the scene. Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the woman placed her arms\nakimbo; and throwing herself into a posture of defiance, she broke out\nanew, in a torrent of words that no art of ours could commit\nsuccessfully to paper. Her breath was, however, expended in vain; for,\nalthough distinguished in her own nation as a proficient in the art of\nabuse, she was permitted to work herself into such a fury as actually to\nfoam at the mouth, without causing a muscle to vibrate in the motionless\nfigure of the stranger. The effect of his indifference began to extend\nitself to the other spectators; and a youngster, who was just quitting\nthe condition of a boy, to enter the state of manhood, attempted to\nassist the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before their victim,\nand adding his empty boasts to the taunts of the woman. Then, indeed,\nthe captive turned his face towards the light, and looked down on the\nstripling with an expression that was superior to contempt. At the next\nmoment he resumed his quiet and reclining attitude against the post. But\nthe change of posture had permitted Duncan to exchange glances with the\nfirm and piercing eyes of Uncas. [Illustration: _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_\n\nTHE TERMAGANT\n\n_Throwing back her light vestment, she stretched forth her long skinny\narm, in derision_]\n\nBreathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed with the critical\nsituation of his friend, Heyward recoiled before the look, trembling\nlest its meaning might, in some unknown manner, hasten the prisoner's\nfate. There was not, however, any instant cause for such an\napprehension. Just then a warrior forced his way into the exasperated\ncrowd. Motioning the women and children aside with a stern gesture, he\ntook Uncas by the arm, and led him towards the door of the council\nlodge. Thither all the chiefs, and most of the distinguished warriors,\nfollowed; among whom the anxious Heyward found means to enter without\nattracting any dangerous attention to himself. A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those present in a manner\nsuitable to their rank and influence in the tribe. An order very similar\nto that adopted in the preceding interview was observed; the aged and\nsuperior chiefs occupying the area of the spacious apartment, within the\npowerful light of a glaring torch, while their juniors and inferiors\nwere arranged in the background, presenting a dark outline of swarthy\nand marked visages. In the very centre of the lodge, immediately under\nan opening that admitted the twinkling light of one or two stars, stood\nUncas, calm, elevated, and collected. His high and haughty carriage was\nnot lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his person, with\neyes which, while they lost none of their inflexibility of purpose,\nplainly betrayed their admiration of the stranger's daring. The case was different with the individual whom Duncan had observed to\nstand forth with his friend, previously to the desperate trial of speed;\nand who, instead of joining in the chase, had remained, throughout its\nturbulent uproar, like a cringing statue, expressive of shame and\ndisgrace. Though not a hand had been extended to greet him, nor yet an\neye had condescended to watch his movements, he had also entered the\nlodge, as though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he submitted,\nseemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited by the first opportunity\nto gaze in his face, secretly apprehensive he might find the features of\nanother acquaintance; but they proved to be those of a stranger, and,\nwhat was still more inexplicable, of one who bore all the distinctive\nmarks of a Huron warrior. Instead of mingling with his tribe, however,\nhe sat apart, a solitary being in a multitude, his form shrinking into a\ncrouching and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space as\npossible. When each individual had taken his proper station, and silence\nreigned in the place, the gray-haired chief already introduced to the\nreader, spoke aloud, in the language of the Lenni Lenape. \"Delaware,\" he said, \"though one of a nation of women, you have proved\nyourself a man. I would give you food; but he who eats with a Huron\nshould become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when our\nlast words shall be spoken.\" \"Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the trail of\nthe Hurons,\" Uncas coldly replied; \"the children of the Lenape know how\nto travel the path of the just without lingering to eat.\" \"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion,\" resumed the\nother, without appearing to regard the boast of his captive; \"when they\nget back, then will our wise men say to you 'live' or 'die.'\" \"Has a Huron no ears?\" scornfully exclaimed Uncas; \"twice, since he has\nbeen your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a gun that he knows. Your\nyoung men will never come back!\" A short and sullen pause succeeded this bold assertion. Duncan, who\nunderstood the Mohican to allude to the fatal rifle of the scout, bent\nforward in earnest observation of the effect it might produce on the\nconquerors; but the chief was content with simply retorting,--\n\n\"If the Lenape are so skilful, why is one of their bravest warriors\nhere?\" \"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into a snare. The\ncunning beaver may be caught.\" As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger toward the solitary\nHuron, but without deigning to bestow any other notice on so unworthy an\nobject.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-07 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The words of the answer and the air of the speaker produced a\nstrong sensation among his auditors. Every eye rolled sullenly towards\nthe individual indicated by the simple gesture, and a low, threatening\nmurmur passed through the crowd. The ominous sounds reached the outer\ndoor, and the women and children pressing into the throng, no gap had\nbeen left, between shoulder and shoulder, that was not now filled with\nthe dark lineaments of some eager and curious human countenance. In the meantime, the more aged chiefs, in the centre, communed with each\nother in short and broken sentences. Not a word was uttered that did not\nconvey the meaning of the speaker, in the simplest and most energetic\nform. Again, a long and deeply solemn pause took place. It was known,\nby all present, to be the grave precursor of a weighty and important\njudgment. They who composed the outer circle of faces were on tiptoe to\ngaze; and even the culprit for an instant forgot his shame in a deeper\nemotion, and exposed his abject features, in order to cast an anxious\nand troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs. The silence was\nfinally broken by the aged warrior so often named. He arose from the\nearth, and moving past the immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in a\ndignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the withered\nsquaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow, sideling sort\nof a dance, holding the torch, and muttering the indistinct words of\nwhat might have been a species of incantation. Though her presence was\naltogether an intrusion, it was unheeded. Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in such a manner as to\ncast its red glare on his person, and to expose the slightest emotion of\nhis countenance. The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude;\nand his eye, so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive look, dwelt\nsteadily on the distance, as though it penetrated the obstacles which\nimpeded the view, and looked into futurity. Satisfied with her\nexamination, she left him, with a slight expression of pleasure, and\nproceeded to practise the same trying experiment on her delinquent\ncountryman. The young Huron was in his war paint, and very little of a finely\nmoulded form was concealed by his attire. The light rendered every limb\nand joint discernible, and Duncan turned away in horror when he saw they\nwere writhing in irrepressible agony. The woman was commencing a low and\nplaintive howl at the sad and shameful spectacle, when the chief put\nforth his hand and gently pushed her aside. \"Reed-that-bends,\" he said, addressing the young culprit by name, and in\nhis proper language, \"though the Great Spirit has made you pleasant to\nthe eyes, it would have been better that you had not been born. Your\ntongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still. None of my\nyoung men strike the tomahawk deeper into the war-post--none of them so\nlightly on the Yengeese. The enemy know the shape of your back, but they\nhave never seen the color of your eyes. Three times have they called on\nyou to come, and as often did you forget to answer. Your name will never\nbe mentioned again in your tribe--it is already forgotten.\" As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing impressively between\neach sentence, the culprit raised his face, in deference to the other's\nrank and years. Shame, horror, and pride struggled in its lineaments. His eye, which was contracted with inward anguish, gleamed on the\npersons of those whose breath was his fame; and the latter emotion for\nan instant predominated. He arose to his feet, and baring his bosom,\nlooked steadily on the keen, glittering knife, that was already upheld\nby his inexorable judge. As the weapon passed slowly into his heart he\neven smiled, as if in joy at having found death less dreadful than he\nhad anticipated, and fell heavily on his face, at the feet of the rigid\nand unyielding form of Uncas. The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch to the earth,\nand buried everything in darkness. The whole shuddering group of\nspectators glided from the lodge, like troubled sprites; and Duncan\nthought that he and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an Indian\njudgment had now become its only tenants. \"Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay\n  Dissolve the council, and their chief obey.\" POPE'S _Iliad._\n\n\nA single moment served to convince the youth that he was mistaken. A\nhand was laid, with a powerful pressure, on his arm, and the low voice\nof Uncas muttered in his ears,--\n\n\"The Hurons are dogs. The sight of a coward's blood can never make a\nwarrior tremble. The 'Gray Head' and the Sagamore are safe, and the\nrifle of Hawkeye is not asleep. Go,--Uncas and the 'Open Hand' are now\nstrangers. It is enough.\" Heyward would gladly have heard more, but a gentle push from his friend\nurged him towards the door, and admonished him of the danger that might\nattend the discovery of their intercourse. Slowly and reluctantly\nyielding to the necessity, he quitted the place, and mingled with the\nthrong that hovered nigh. The dying fires in the clearing cast a dim and\nuncertain light on the dusky figures that were silently stalking to and\nfro; and occasionally a brighter gleam than common glanced into the\nlodge, and exhibited the figure of Uncas still maintaining its upright\nattitude near the dead body of the Huron. A knot of warriors soon entered the place again, and reissuing, they\nbore the senseless remains into the adjacent woods. After this\ntermination of the scene, Duncan wandered among the lodges, unquestioned\nand unnoticed, endeavoring to find some trace of her in whose behalf he\nincurred the risk he ran. In the present temper of the tribe, it would\nhave been easy to have fled and rejoined his companions, had such a wish\ncrossed his mind. But, in addition to the never-ceasing anxiety on\naccount of Alice, a fresher, though feebler interest in the fate of\nUncas assisted to chain him to the spot. He continued, therefore, to\nstray from hut to hut, looking into each only to encounter additional\ndisappointment, until he had made the entire circuit of the village. Abandoning a species of inquiry that proved so fruitless, he retraced\nhis steps to the council lodge, resolved to seek and question David, in\norder to put an end to his doubts. On reaching the building which had proved alike the seat of judgment\nand the place of execution, the young man found that the excitement had\nalready subsided. The warriors had reassembled, and were now calmly\nsmoking, while they conversed gravely on the chief incidents of their\nrecent expedition to the head of the Horican. Though the return of\nDuncan was likely to remind them of his character, and the suspicious\ncircumstances of his visit, it produced no visible sensation. So far,\nthe terrible scene that had just occurred proved favorable to his views,\nand he required no other prompter than his own feelings to convince him\nof the expediency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage. Without seeming to hesitate, he walked into the lodge, and took his seat\nwith a gravity that accorded admirably with the deportment of his hosts. A hasty but searching glance sufficed to tell him that, though Uncas\nstill remained where he had left him, David had not reappeared. No other\nrestraint was imposed on the former than the watchful looks of a young\nHuron, who had placed himself at hand; though an armed warrior leaned\nagainst the post that formed one side of the narrow door-way. In every\nother respect, the captive seemed at liberty; still he was excluded from\nall participation in the discourse, and possessed much more of the air\nof some finely moulded statue than a man having life and volition. Heyward had too recently witnessed a frightful instance of the prompt\npunishments of the people into whose hands he had fallen, to hazard an\nexposure by any officious boldness. He would greatly have preferred\nsilence and meditation to speech, when a discovery of his real condition\nmight prove so instantly fatal. Unfortunately for this prudent\nresolution, his entertainers appeared otherwise disposed. He had not\nlong occupied the seat wisely taken a little in the shade, when another\nof the elder warriors, who spoke the French language, addressed him:--\n\n\"My Canada father does not forget his children,\" said the chief; \"I\nthank him. An evil spirit lives in the wife of one of my young men. Can\nthe cunning stranger frighten him away?\" Heyward possessed some knowledge of the mummery practised among the\nIndians, in the cases of such supposed visitations.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-07, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-09 The user is reading a book]\n<User> He saw, at a glance,\nthat the circumstance might possibly be improved to further his own end. It would, therefore, have been difficult, just then, to have uttered a\nproposal that would have given him more satisfaction. Aware of the\nnecessity of preserving the dignity of his imaginary character, however,\nhe repressed his feelings, and answered with suitable mystery,--\n\n\"Spirits differ; some yield to the power of wisdom, while others are too\nstrong.\" \"My brother is a great medicine,\" said the cunning savage; \"he will\ntry?\" A gesture of assent was the answer. The Huron was content with the\nassurance, and resuming his pipe, he awaited the proper moment to move. The impatient Heyward, inwardly execrating the cold customs of the\nsavages, which required such sacrifices to appearance, was fain to\nassume an air of indifference, equal to that maintained by the chief,\nwho was, in truth, a near relative of the afflicted woman. The minutes\nlingered, and the delay had seemed an hour to the adventurer in\nempiricism, when the Huron laid aside his pipe, and drew his robe across\nhis breast, as if about to lead the way to the lodge of the invalid. Just then, a warrior of powerful frame darkened the door, and stalking\nsilently among the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of the\nlow pile of brush which sustained Duncan. The latter cast an impatient\nlook at his neighbor, and felt his flesh creep with uncontrollable\nhorror when he found himself in actual contact with Magua. The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief caused a delay in the\ndeparture of the Huron. Several pipes, that had been extinguished, were\nlighted again; while the newcomer, without speaking a word, drew his\ntomahawk from his girdle, and filling the bowl on its head, began to\ninhale the vapors of the weed through the hollow handle, with as much\nindifference as if he had not been absent two weary days on a long and\ntoilsome hunt. Ten minutes, which appeared so many ages to Duncan, might\nhave passed in this manner; and the warriors were fairly enveloped in a\ncloud of white smoke before any of them spoke. \"Welcome!\" one at length uttered; \"has my friend found the moose?\" \"The young men stagger under their burdens,\" returned Magua. \"Let\n'Reed-that-bends' go on the hunting-path; he will meet them.\" A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of the forbidden name. Each pipe dropped from the lips of its owner as though all had inhaled\nan impurity at the same instant. The smoke wreathed above their heads in\nlittle eddies, and curling in a spiral form, it ascended swiftly\nthrough the opening in the roof of the lodge, leaving the place beneath\nclear of its fumes, and each dark visage distinctly visible. The looks\nof most of the warriors were riveted on the earth; though a few of the\nyounger and less gifted of the party suffered their wild and glaring\neyeballs to roll in the direction of a white-headed savage, who sat\nbetween two of the most venerated chiefs of the tribe. There was nothing\nin the air or attire of this Indian that would seem to entitle him to\nsuch a distinction. The former was rather depressed, than remarkable for\nthe bearing of the natives; and the latter was such as was commonly worn\nby the ordinary men of the nation. Like most around him, for more than a\nminute his look too was on the ground; but, trusting his eyes at length\nto steal a glance aside, he perceived that he was becoming an object of\ngeneral attention. Then he arose and lifted his voice in the general\nsilence. \"It was a lie,\" he said; \"I had no son. He who was called by that name\nis forgotten; his blood was pale; and it came not from the veins of a\nHuron; the wicked Chippewas cheated my squaw. The Great Spirit has said,\nthat the family of Wiss-entush should end; he is happy who knows that\nthe evil of his race dies with himself. I have done.\" The speaker, who was the father of the recreant young Indian, looked\nround and about him, as if seeking commendation of his stoicism in the\neyes of his auditors. But the stern customs of his people had made too\nsevere an exaction of the feeble old man. The expression of his eye\ncontradicted his figurative and boastful language, while every muscle in\nhis wrinkled visage was working with anguish. Standing a single minute\nto enjoy his bitter triumph, he turned away, as if sickening at the gaze\nof men, and veiling his face in his blanket, he walked from the lodge\nwith the noiseless step of an Indian, seeking, in the privacy of his own\nabode, the sympathy of one like himself, aged, forlorn, and childless. The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmission of virtues and\ndefects in character, suffered him to depart in silence. Then, with an\nelevation of breeding that many in a more cultivated state of society\nmight profitably emulate, one of the chiefs drew the attention of the\nyoung men from the weakness they had just witnessed, by saying, in a\ncheerful voice, addressing himself in courtesy to Magua, as the newest\ncomer,--\n\n\"The Delawares have been like bears after the honey-pots, prowling\naround my village. But who has ever found a Huron asleep?\" The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes a burst of thunder\nwas not blacker than the brow of Magua as he exclaimed,--\n\n\"The Delawares of the Lakes!\" \"Not so. They who wear the petticoats of squaws, on their own river. One\nof them has been passing the tribe.\" \"Did my young men take his scalp?\" \"His legs were good, though his arm is better for the hoe than the\ntomahawk,\" returned the other, pointing to the immovable form of Uncas. Instead of manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast his eyes with the\nsight of a captive from a people he was known to have so much reason to\nhate, Magua continued to smoke, with the meditative air that he usually\nmaintained, when there was no immediate call on his cunning or his\neloquence. Although secretly amazed at the facts communicated by the\nspeech of the aged father, he permitted himself to ask no questions,\nreserving his inquiries for a more suitable moment. It was only after a\nsufficient interval that he shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced the\ntomahawk, tightened his girdle, and arose, casting for the first time a\nglance in the direction of the prisoner, who stood a little behind him. The wary, though seemingly abstracted Uncas, caught a glimpse of the\nmovement, and turning suddenly to the light, their looks met. Near a\nminute these two bold and untamed spirits stood regarding one another\nsteadily in the eye, neither quailing in the least before the fierce\ngaze he encountered. The form of Uncas dilated, and his nostrils opened\nlike those of a tiger at bay; but so rigid and unyielding was his\nposture, that he might easily have been converted by the imagination\ninto an exquisite and faultless representation of the warlike deity of\nhis tribe. The lineaments of the quivering features of Magua proved more\nductile; his countenance gradually lost its character of defiance in an\nexpression of ferocious joy, and heaving a breath from the very bottom\nof his chest, he pronounced aloud the very formidable name of--\n\n\"Le Cerf Agile!\" Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of the well known\nappellation, and there was a short period during which the stoical\nconstancy of the natives was completely conquered by surprise. The\nhated and yet respected name was repeated as by one voice, carrying the\nsound even beyond the limits of the lodge. The women and children, who\nlingered around the entrance, took up the words in an echo, which was\nsucceeded by another shrill and plaintive howl. The latter was not yet\nended, when the sensation among the men had entirely abated. Each one in\npresence seated himself, as though ashamed of his precipitation; but it\nwas many minutes before their meaning eyes ceased to roll towards their\ncaptive, in curious examination of a warrior who had so often proved his\nprowess on the best and proudest of their nation. Uncas enjoyed his\nvictory, but was content with merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet\nsmile--an emblem of scorn which belongs to all time and every nation. Magua caught the expression, and raising his arm, he shook it at the\ncaptive, the light silver ornaments attached to his bracelet rattling\nwith the trembling agitation of the limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he\nexclaimed, in English,--\n\n\"Mohican, you die!\" \"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to life,\" returned\nUncas, in the music of the Delawares; \"the tumbling river washes their\nbones; their men are squaws; their women owls. Go!\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-09, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-12 The user is reading a book]\n<User> call together the\nHuron dogs, that they may look upon a warrior. My nostrils are offended;\nthey scent the blood of a coward.\" The latter allusion struck deep, and the injury rankled. Many of the\nHurons understood the strange tongue in which the captive spoke, among\nwhich number was Magua. This cunning savage beheld, and instantly\nprofited by his advantage. Dropping the light robe of skin from his\nshoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced a burst of his\ndangerous and artful eloquence. However much his influence among his\npeople had been impaired by his occasional and besetting weakness, as\nwell as by his desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an\norator were undeniable. He never spoke without auditors, and rarely\nwithout making converts to his opinions. On the present occasion, his\nnative powers were stimulated by the thirst of revenge. He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at Glenn's,\nthe death of his associates, and the escape of their most formidable\nenemies. Then he described the nature and position of the mount whither\nhe had led such captives as had fallen into their hands. Of his own\nbloody intentions towards the maidens, and of his baffled malice he made\nno mention, but passed rapidly on to the surprise of the party by La\nLongue Carabine, and its fatal termination. Here he paused, and looked\nabout him, in affected veneration for the departed, but, in truth, to\nnote the effect of his opening narrative. As usual, every eye was\nriveted on his face. Each dusky figure seemed a breathing statue, so\nmotionless was the posture, so intense the attention of the individual. Then Magua dropped his voice, which had hitherto been clear, strong, and\nelevated, and touched upon the merits of the dead. No quality that was\nlikely to command the sympathy of an Indian escaped his notice. One had\nnever been known to follow the chase in vain; another had been\nindefatigable on the trail of their enemies. This was brave, that\ngenerous. In short, he so managed his allusions, that in a nation, which\nwas composed of so few families, he contrived to strike every chord that\nmight find, in its turn, some breast in which to vibrate. \"Are the bones of my young men,\" he concluded, \"in the burial-place of\nthe Hurons? You know they are not. Their spirits are gone towards the\nsetting sun, and are already crossing the great waters, to the happy\nhunting-grounds. But they departed without food, without guns or knives,\nwithout moccasins, naked and poor as they were born. Shall this be? Are\ntheir souls to enter the land of the just like hungry Iroquois or\nunmanly Delawares; or shall they meet their friends with arms in their\nhands and robes on their backs? What will our fathers think the tribes\nof the Wyandots have become? They will look on their children with a\ndark eye, and say, Go! a Chippewa has come hither with the name of a\nHuron. Brothers, we must not forget the dead; a redskin never ceases to\nremember. We will load the back of this Mohican until he staggers under\nour bounty, and despatch him after my young men. They call to us for\naid, though our ears are not open; they say, Forget us not. When they\nsee the spirit of this Mohican toiling after them with his burden, they\nwill know we are of that mind. Then will they go on happy; and our\nchildren will say, 'So did our fathers to their friends, so must we do\nto them.' What is a Yengee? we have slain many, but the earth is still\npale. A stain on the name of a Huron can only be hid by blood that comes\nfrom the veins of an Indian. Let this Delaware die.\" The effect of such an harangue, delivered in the nervous language and\nwith the emphatic manner of a Huron orator, could scarcely be mistaken. Magua had so artfully blended the natural sympathies with the religious\nsuperstition of his auditors, that their minds, already prepared by\ncustom to sacrifice a victim to the _manes_ of their countrymen, lost\nevery vestige of humanity in a wish for revenge. One warrior in\nparticular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had been conspicuous for\nthe attention he had given to the words of the speaker. His countenance\nhad changed with each passing emotion, until it settled into a look of\ndeadly malice. As Magua ended he arose, and uttering the yell of a\ndemon, his polished little axe was seen glancing in the torch-light as\nhe whirled it above his head. The motion and the cry were too sudden for\nwords to interrupt his bloody intention. It appeared as if a bright\ngleam shot from his hand, which was crossed at the same moment by a dark\nand powerful line. The former was the tomahawk in its passage; the\nlatter the arm that Magua darted forward to divert its aim. The quick\nand ready motion of the chief was not entirely too late. The keen weapon\ncut the war-plume from the scalping-tuft of Uncas, and passed through\nthe frail wall of the lodge, as though it were hurled from some\nformidable engine. Duncan had seen the threatening action, and sprang upon his feet, with a\nheart which while it leaped into his throat, swelled with the most\ngenerous resolution in behalf of his friend. A glance told him that the\nblow had failed, and terror changed to admiration. Uncas stood still,\nlooking his enemy in the eye with features that seemed superior to\nemotion. Marble could not be colder, calmer, or steadier than the\ncountenance he put upon this sudden and vindictive attack. Then, as if\npitying a want of skill which had proved so fortunate to himself, he\nsmiled, and muttered a few words of contempt in his own tongue. \"No!\" said Magua, after satisfying himself of the safety of the captive;\n\"the sun must shine on his shame; the squaws must see his flesh tremble,\nor our revenge will be like the play of boys. Go! take him where there\nis silence; let us see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the\nmorning die.\" The young men whose duty it was to guard the prisoner instantly passed\ntheir ligaments of bark across his arms, and led him from the lodge,\namid a profound and ominous silence. It was only as the figure of Uncas\nstood in the opening of the door that his firm step hesitated. There he\nturned, and, in the sweeping and haughty glance that he threw around the\ncircle of his enemies, Duncan caught a look which he was glad to\nconstrue into an expression that he was not entirely deserted by hope. Magua was content with his success, or too much occupied with his secret\npurposes to push his inquiries any further. Shaking his mantle, and\nfolding it on his bosom, he also quitted the place, without pursuing a\nsubject which might have proved so fatal to the individual at his elbow. Notwithstanding his rising resentment, his natural firmness, and his\nanxiety in behalf of Uncas, Heyward felt sensibly relieved by the\nabsence of so dangerous and so subtle a foe. The excitement produced by\nthe speech gradually subsided. The warriors resumed their seats, and\nclouds of smoke once more filled the lodge. For near half an hour, not a\nsyllable was uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside; a grave and\nmeditative silence being the ordinary succession to every scene of\nviolence and commotion among those beings, who were alike so impetuous\nand yet so self-restrained. When the chief who had solicited the aid of Duncan finished his pipe, he\nmade a final and successful movement towards departing. A motion of a\nfinger was the intimation he gave the supposed physician to follow; and\npassing through the clouds of smoke, Duncan was glad, on more accounts\nthan one, to be able, at last, to breathe the pure air of a cool and\nrefreshing summer evening. Instead of pursuing his way among those lodges where Heyward had already\nmade his unsuccessful search, his companion turned aside, and proceeded\ndirectly towards the base of an adjacent mountain, which overhung the\ntemporary village. A thicket of brush skirted its foot, and it became\nnecessary to proceed through a crooked and narrow path. The boys had\nresumed their sports in the clearing, and were enacting a mimic chase to\nthe post among themselves. In order to render their games as like the\nreality as possible, one of the boldest of their number had conveyed a\nfew brands into some piles of tree-tops that had hitherto escaped the\nburning.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-12, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-15 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The blaze of one of these fires lighted the way of the chief\nand Duncan, and gave a character of additional wildness to the rude\nscenery. At a little distance from a bald rock, and directly in its\nfront, they entered a grassy opening, which they prepared to cross. Just\nthen fresh fuel was added to the fire, and a powerful light penetrated\neven to that distant spot. It fell upon the white surface of the\nmountain, and was reflected downwards upon a dark and mysterious-looking\nbeing that arose, unexpectedly, in their path. The Indian paused, as if doubtful whether to proceed, and permitted his\ncompanion to approach his side. A large black ball, which at first\nseemed stationary, now began to move in a manner that to the latter was\ninexplicable. Again the fire brightened, and its glare fell more\ndistinctly on the object. Then even Duncan knew it, by its restless and\nsideling attitudes, which kept the upper part of its form in constant\nmotion, while the animal itself appeared seated, to be a bear. Though it\ngrowled loudly and fiercely, and there were instants when its glistening\neyeballs might be seen, it gave no other indications of hostility. The\nHuron, at least, seemed assured that the intentions of this singular\nintruder were peaceable, for after giving it an attentive examination,\nhe quietly pursued his course. Duncan, who knew that the animal was often domesticated among the\nIndians, followed the example of his companion, believing that some\nfavorite of the tribe had found its way into the thicket, in search of\nfood. They passed it unmolested. Though obliged to come nearly in\ncontact with the monster, the Huron, who had at first so warily\ndetermined the character of his strange visitor, was now content with\nproceeding without wasting a moment in further examination; but Heyward\nwas unable to prevent his eyes from looking backward, in salutary\nwatchfulness against attacks in the rear. His uneasiness was in no\ndegree diminished when he perceived the beast rolling along their path,\nand following their footsteps. He would have spoken, but the Indian at\nthat moment shoved aside a door of bark, and entered a cavern in the\nbosom of the mountain. Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan stepped after him, and\nwas gladly closing the slight cover to the opening, when he felt it\ndrawn from his hand by the beast, whose shaggy form immediately darkened\nthe passage. They were now in a straight and long gallery, in a chasm of\nthe rocks, where retreat without encountering the animal was impossible. Making the best of the circumstances, the young man pressed forward,\nkeeping as close as possible to his conductor. The bear growled\nfrequently at his heels, and once or twice its enormous paws were laid\non his person, as if disposed to prevent his further passage into the\nden. How long the nerves of Heyward would have sustained him in this\nextraordinary situation, it might be difficult to decide; for, happily,\nhe soon found relief. A glimmer of light had constantly been in their\nfront, and they now arrived at the place whence it proceeded. A large cavity in the rock had been rudely fitted to answer the purposes\nof many apartments. The subdivisions were simple but ingenious, being\ncomposed of stone, sticks, and bark, intermingled. Openings above\nadmitted the light by day, and at night fires and torches supplied the\nplace of the sun. Hither the Hurons had brought most of their valuables,\nespecially those which more particularly pertained to the nation; and\nhither, as it now appeared, the sick woman, who was believed to be the\nvictim of supernatural power, had been transported also, under an\nimpression that her tormentor would find more difficulty in making his\nassaults through walls of stone than through the leafy coverings of the\nlodges. The apartment into which Duncan and his guide first entered, had\nbeen exclusively devoted to her accommodation. The latter approached her\nbedside, which was surrounded by females, in the centre of whom Heyward\nwas surprised to find his missing friend David. A single look was sufficient to apprise the pretended leech that the\ninvalid was far beyond his powers of healing. She lay in a sort of\nparalysis, indifferent to the objects which crowded before her sight,\nand happily unconscious of suffering. Heyward was far from regretting\nthat his mummeries were to be performed on one who was much too ill to\ntake an interest in their failure or success. The slight qualm of\nconscience which had been excited by the intended deception was\ninstantly appeased, and he began to collect his thoughts, in order to\nenact his part with suitable spirit, when he found he was about to be\nanticipated in his skill by an attempt to prove the power of music. Gamut, who had stood prepared to pour forth his spirit in song when the\nvisitors entered, after delaying a moment, drew a strain from his pipe,\nand commenced a hymn that might have worked a miracle, had faith in its\nefficacy been of much avail. He was allowed to proceed to the close, the\nIndians respecting his imaginary infirmity, and Duncan too glad of the\ndelay to hazard the slightest interruption. As the dying cadence of his\nstrains was falling on the ears of the latter, he started aside at\nhearing them repeated behind him in a voice half human, half\nsepulchral. Looking around, he beheld the shaggy monster seated on end\nin a shadow of the cavern, where, while his restless body swung in the\nuneasy manner of the animal, it repeated, in a sort of low growl, sound,\nif not words, which bore some slight resemblance to the melody of the\nsinger. The effect of so strange an echo on David may better be imagined than\ndescribed. His eyes opened as if he doubted their truth; and his voice\nbecame instantly mute in excess of wonder. A deep-laid scheme, of\ncommunicating some important intelligence to Heyward, was driven from\nhis recollection by an emotion which very nearly resembled fear, but\nwhich he was fain to believe was admiration. Under its influence, he\nexclaimed aloud--\"She expects you, and is at hand;\" and precipitately\nleft the cavern.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-15, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-15", "answer": "Heyward, Gamut, Uncas, Magua, Hurons, Mohican, French doctor, principal building, main lodge, painted post, hazardous race, scalp, council, cowardly Huron, aged father, ritualistic knife, torch extinguished, Alice, chief, sick squaw, Le Cerf Agile, revenge, torture, death, mountain base, bear, cavern, valuables, paralyzed woman, hymn, brush piles, lodge, huts, smoking warriors, heredity, shame, council chamber, apartments, \"She expects you, she is at hand\""}]