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Yonnondio, or Warriors of the Genesee: Tale of the Seventeenth Century
William Howe Cuyler Hosmer
Sin vista previa disponible - 2015
arms band battle bear beneath bird Blanche blood blue bore bound brave breast breath bright brow called Can-ne-hoot chief clear close cloud Dance dark dead deep dread dream earth enemy face fair fall father fear feet fell fierce fight fire Five flower foot forest French gave gazed glance Grai grave green grew hair hand hatchet hath head hear heard heart hill hour Huron Indian lake land leaves light limbs look loud marked morn never night o'er once painted pale passing pride proud race raised river round rude savage scalps scene seen Senecas shade shore side sight sire soul sound stream thought tide told tone tread tree tribe voice warrior wave wild wind wood Yonnondio young
Página 217 - Hear, Yonnondio: our women had taken their clubs, our children and old men had carried their bows and arrows into the heart of your camp, if our warriors had not disarmed them, and kept them back, when your messenger Ohgnesse came to our castles.
Página 222 - Canada sends to Onondaga, and talks to us of Peace with our whole House, but War was in his Heart, as you now see by woful Experience. He did the same formerly at Cadarackui, and in the Senekas Country.
Página 217 - I thank you, in their name, for bringing back into their country the calumet, which your predecessor received from their hands. It was happy for you, that you left under ground that murdering hatchet that has been so often dyed in the blood of the French.
Página 223 - No. 5. Containing 88 scalps of women; hair long, braided in the Indian fashion, to show they were mothers; hoops blue; skin yellow ground, with little red tadpoles, to represent, by way of triumph, the tears of grief occasioned to their relations; a black...
Página 97 - The red-breast, perched in arbor green, Sad minstrel of the quiet scene — While hymning, for the dying sun, Strains like a broken-hearted one, Raised not her mottled wing to fly As swept those silent warriors by. The wood-cock, in his moist retreat, Heard not the falling of their feet ; On his dark roost the gray owl slept ; Time with his drum the partridge kept, Nor left the deer his watering-place, So hushed, so noiseless was their pace.
Página 217 - I do not sleep; I have my eyes open, and the sun which enlightens me, discovers to me a great captain at the head of a company of soldiers who speaks as if he were dreaming.
Página 217 - Ohguesse, came to our castles It is done, and I have said it. Hear, Yonnondio, we plundered none of the French, but those that carried guns, powder, and ball to the Twightwies and Chictaghicks, because those arms might have cost us our lives.
Página 217 - You must have believed when you left Quebec, that the sun had burnt up all the forests, which render our country inaccessible to the French...