The Last of the MohicansW. A. Townsend, 1859 - 520 من الصفحات |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Alice answered appeared arms beast blood bosom breath Canada canoe captive cavern chief Chingachgook colour companions concealed Cora countenance cunning danger dark David deep deer Delawares drew Duncan ears encampment enemy exclaimed eyes father favour feet fierce fire followed forest Fort Edward French gaze glance hand Hawk-eye head heard Horican Huron Indian instant instantly interrupted Iroquois knew lake leave Lenape Lenni Lenape light listened lodge look Magua maiden Major Heyward Manitto manner ment Midsummer's Night Dream Mingo moccasins Mohawks Montcalm Munro Narragansets native nature never party passed path pause psalmody Renard returned the scout rifle rock Sagamore savage scalp scene seated seemed seen side silent sisters soon sounds speak spirit spoke spot stood Subtil Tamenund tion tomahawk trail trees tribe turned Uncas uncon uttered voice ward warrior wigwam woods woodsman words Wyandots yell youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 19 - He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha! And he smelleth the battle afar off, The thunder of the captains, and the shouting.
الصفحة 19 - Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: He goeth on to meet the armed men.
الصفحة 71 - The sire turns o'er wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!
الصفحة 519 - Go, children of the Lenape ; the anger of the Manitto is not done Why should Tamenund stay? The pale-faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the red-men has not yet come again. My day has been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong ; and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans!
الصفحة 42 - Where are the blossoms of those summers ! — fallen, one by one; so all of my family departed, each in his turn, to the land of spirits. I am on the hilltop and must go down into the valley; and when Uncas follows in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the blood of the Sagamores, for my boy is the last of the Mohicans.
الصفحة 353 - Turning like a headed deer, he shot, with the swiftness of an arrow, through a pillar of forked flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he appeared on the opposite side of the clearing. Here too he was met and turned by a few of the older and more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried the throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then several moments succeeded, during which Duncan believed the active and courageous young stranger was lost.
الصفحة 37 - A pouch and horn completed his personal accoutrements, though a rifle of great length,* which the theory of the more ingenious whites had taught them was the most dangerous of all fire-arms, leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding...
الصفحة 360 - ... order to cast an anxious and troubled glance at the dark assemblage of chiefs. The silence was finally broken by the aged warrior so often named. He arose from the earth, and moving past the immovable form of Uncas, placed himself in a dignified attitude before the offender. At that moment, the withered squaw already mentioned moved into the circle, in a slow...
الصفحة 361 - Reed-that-bends, he said, addressing the young culprit by name, and in his proper language, though the Great Spirit has made you pleasant to the eyes, it would have been better that you had not been born. Your tongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still. None of my young men strike the tomahawk deeper into the war-post - none of them so lightly on the Yengeese.
الصفحة 211 - Hold!" shouted the former speaker, in the awful tones of parental agony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and rolling back in solemn echo. " 'Tis she! God has restored me my children! Throw open the sallyport; to the field, 60ths, to the field! pull not a trigger, lest ye kill my lambs! Drive off these dogs of France with your steel!