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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"Oak Openings"

I cannot
remember the time when whispers from Montreal have not been among
us. Their blankets are warm, their fire-water is strong, their
powder is good, and their rifles shoot well; but all this does not
stop the children of Uncle Sam from being more at night than they
were in the morning. The red men get tired of counting them. They
have become plentier than the pigeons in the spring. My father has
taken many of their scalps, but the hair must grow after his knife,
their scalps are so many."
"See!" rejoined Peter, lowering his pole so that all might examine
his revolting trophies, "these come from the soldiers at the head of
the lake. Blackbird was there with his young men; no one of them all
got as many scalps! This is the way to stop the white pigeon from
flying over us in such flocks as to hide and darken the sun."
Another murmur of admiration passed through the crowd, as each young
warrior bent forward to count the number of the scalps, and to note,
by signs familiar to themselves, the ages, sex, and condition of the
different victims. Here was another instance among a hundred others
of which they had heard, of the prowess of the mysterious Onoah, as
well as of his inextinguishable hatred of the race, that was slowly,
but unerringly, supplanting the ancient stock, causing the places
that once knew the people of their tribes "to know them no more.


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