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Updated: June 5, 2025
She had succeeded in imparting to Quadaquina her own abhorrence of the vice, and was cautious not to weaken the impression. "Enough," said Peéna; "my son will grow up into a brave and good man; but if he despises Ohquamehud for his drunkenness, let him not forget he is his kinsman.
Again Ohquamehud paused, but it was only for a moment, and then uttered in a distinct tone the word, "Onontio." The sound caught the ears of Holden, who instantly turned, and beheld the threatening looks and attitude of the savage. He comprehended, at once, the hostile purpose of Ohquamehud, and the imminence of his own danger, but betrayed not the slightest fear. His cheek blanched not.
Ohquamehud was lying on the floor of her hut, his head resting on his hand, and he had been for some time gazing in the fire. The simple noon-day meal had barely been tasted, and that in silence. "Have the hands of Peéna," she said, "forgot how to prepare his food, that the eyes of my brother turn away from it with displeasure?"
None could be in the presence of Faith without being influenced by the atmosphere of goodness in which she moved. And, indeed, that she herself derived pleasure from the presence of Peéna, was evidence of the gentle worth of the latter. No wonder then that Ohquamehud determined to conceal his fell purpose in his own heart.
"And who gave the bold heart and strong arm to Huttamoiden?" "It was the mighty Obbatinuua, whose name men say is still mentioned in the song on the great fresh water lakes." "He had two sons?" "Huttamoiden and" He stopped as if unwilling to pronounce the name, and turned with a gesture of contempt from his mother. Peéna supplied the omission. "Ohquamehud," she said.
What has the boy whom Huttamoiden's arm saved from the flames, done, that blackness should gather over the face of Ohquamehud?" "Quah! Does Peéna ask? She is more foolish than the bird, from which she takes her name, when it flies into a tree. Is he not the son of Onontio?" "Peéna never saw Onontio. She has only heard of him as one, who like the red men, loves scalps.
The south wind is sweet when it comes in spring to tell that winter is past and the starved Indian need no longer shiver over the fire; and sweet are the kisses of Wullogana to Ohquamehud, and dear are the voices of his little ones when they meet him from the chase, but sweeter than the sighs of the wind of spring, or the caresses of Wullogana, or the laughter of his children, is it to strike an enemy.
The Indian, Ohquamehud, with his rifle by his side, from his place of concealment, on the right shore, had been watching all his motions. There had he lain in ambush ever since the stars had deserted the sky. Patiently he lay, with his eyes fixed on the little island. The sun mounted higher; hour after hour passed away, and yet he moved not.
"What does a child like Quadaquina, mean by wandering so far in the dark away from its mother?" demanded Ohquamehud. "Quadaquina is no longer a child," answered the boy, "to need his mother. He runs about, like a squirrel, in the woods, whenever he please." "Quah! He is more like a bird, and it is to take lessons from the whipperwill, that he comes into the woods."
Quadaquina is very sick when he sees Ohquamehud lying on the ground, a slave of the fire-water, with his tongue lolling out like a dog's, and he disdains to acknowledge him as of his blood." Peéna was not disposed to blame the boy for his disgust at drunkenness.
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