Читать книгу Forest Glen; or, The Mohawk's Friendship онлайн

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"Isn't he a noble-looking man?" said Cal. "Isn't he handsome, beautiful? What an arm and leg he's got! and his breast, and so tall—just as straight as a pine-tree. Didn't you see him smile when the baby stood up and held on to his leggings? and what a pleasant smile it was too! Oh, I wish I was such a man!"

Cal's conception of beauty lay in thews and sinews.

"But, husband, what will become of us? A hundred Indians, only think of it!—seventy Delawares, twenty Shawanees, and twenty Monseys; and the Delawares are the most bloodthirsty of all. It seems to me that you or Cal ought to go this moment, and rouse the neighbors, and get into the fort before morning: you might both go, but I couldn't be left alone with this Indian."

"Not after he made such efforts to save you and the children's lives?"

"No: I suppose I ought not to feel so, but I cannot help it."

"There's no cause, wife, for alarm, nor for haste. There are no Frenchmen coming, and of course there is no artillery. The fort is well prepared for a much longer siege than is to be apprehended from Indians. It is well provided with water, provisions, and ammunition; and we are all at home, and every man fit for duty, not a disabled man amongst us. There's time enough to move after daylight."