for it! Magua was not himself; it was the fire-water that spoke and acted for him, but Munro did not believe it. The Huron chief was tied up before all the pale-faced warriors, and whipped with sticks like a dog."
Cora remained silent, for she knew not how to palliate this imprudent severity on the part of her father, in a manner to suit the comprehension of an Indian.
"See!" continued Magua, tearing aside the slight calico that very imperfectly concealed his painted breast; "here are scars given by knives and bullets—of these a warrior may boast before his nation; but the gray-head has left marks on the back of the Huron chief, that he must hide, like a squaw, under this painted cloth of the whites."
"I had thought," resumed Cora, "that an Indian warrior was patient, and that his spirit felt not, and knew not the pain his body suffered?"
"When the Chippewas tied Magua to the stake, and cut this gash," said the
