The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga. G. P. R. James

and the man who followed him replied in so peculiar a style, that we must give his words, though they imported very little, as far as the events to be related are concerned.

      "All is still on the banks of Champlain Lake," he said; "but Huron tracks are still upon the shore. The friendly Mohawks watched them come and go; and tell us that the Frenchman, too, was there, painted and feathered like the Indian chiefs; but finding England stronger than they thought, upon the side of Horicon, they sailed back to Fort Carrillon on Monday last."

      For awhile, Lord H---- was completely puzzled to discover what it was that gave such peculiarity to the missionary's language; for the words and accents were both those of an ordinary Englishman of no very superior education; and it was not till Mr. Gore had uttered one or two sentences more, that he perceived that everything he said arranged itself into a sort of blank verse, not very poetical, not very musical, but easily enough to be scanned.

      In the mean while, the Black Eagle and his host had entered the house, and proceeded straight to the great eating-hall, where the whole party seated themselves in silence, Otaitsa taking her place close to the side of Edith, and Walter stationing himself where he could watch the bright girl's eyes, without being remarked himself.

      For a moment or two, no one spoke, in deference to the Indian habits; and then Mr. Prevost broke silence, saying,--

      "Well, Black Eagle, how fares it with my brother?"

      "As with the tamarack in the autumn," answered the warrior; "the cold wind sighs through the branches, and the fine leaves wither and fall; but the trunk stands firm as yet, and decay has not reached the heart."