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 other, laying his finger proudly on a deep scar on his bosom, "the Huron laughed in their faces, and told them women struck so light! His spirit was then in the clouds. But when he felt the blows of Munro, his spirit lay under the birch. The spirit of a Huron is never drunk, it remembers for ever."

"But it may be appeased. If my father has done you this injustice, show him how an Indian can forgive an injury, and take back his daughters. You have heard from Major Heyward—"

Magua shook his head, forbidding the repetition of offers he so much despised.

"What would you have?" continued Cora, after a most painful pause, while the conviction forced itself on her mind, that the too sanguine and generous Duncan had been cruelly deceived by the cunning of the savage.

"What a Huron loves—good for good, bad for bad."

"You would then revenge the injury inflicted by Munro, on his helpless daugh-