Page:The last of the Mohicans (1826 Volume 1).djvu/148

 the forest moan like mortal men, in their affliction; often, and again, have I listened to the wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees; and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air, like the snapping of blazing brush, as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames; but never have I thought that I heard more than the pleasure of him, who sported with the things of his hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white man without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We, therefore, believe it a sign given for our good."

"It is extraordinary!" exclaimed Heyward, taking his pistols from the place where he had laid them, on entering; "be it a sign of peace, or a signal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I follow."

On issuing from their place of confinement, the whole party instantly experienced a grateful renovation of their spirits, by exchanging the pent air of their hiding place, for the cool and invigorating atmosphere, which played around