As the young Indian grew in grace, she grew also in sweetness of manner and refinement of taste and behavior.  She was no longer a savage, either in mind or in conduct; and Henrich often looked at her in wonder and admiration, when she had made her simple toilette by the side of a clear stream, and had decked her glossy raven hair with one of the magnificent water lilies that be had gathered for her on its brink:  and he wished that his mother and his fair young sister could behold his little Indian beauty, for he knew that they would love her, and would forget that she had a dusky skin, and was born of a savage and heathen race.

CHAPTER VII.

’We saw thee, O stranger, and wept! 
We looked for the youth of the sunny glance,
Whose step was the fleetest in chase or dance! 
The light of his eye was a joy to see;
The path of his arrows a storm to flee! 
But there came a voice from a distant shore;
He was call’d—­he his found ’midst his tribe no more! 
He is not in his place when the night fire, burn;
But we look for him still—­he will yet return! 
His brother sat with a drooping brow,
In the gloom of the shadowing cypress bough. 
We roused him—­we bade him no longer pine;
For we heard a step—­but that step was thine.’  Hemans.

‘What was that cry of joy, Oriana?’ exclaimed Henrich, as one evening during their journey, he and his companion had strayed a little from their party, who were seeking a resting-place for the night.  ’What was that cry of joy:  and who is this Indian youth who has sprung from the ground so eagerly, and is now hurrying towards us from that group of overhanging trees?  Is he a friend of yours?’

‘I know him not!’ replied Oriana.  ’I never passed through this forest before:  but I have heard that it is inhabited by the Crees.  They are friendly to our allies, the Pequodees, so we need not fear to meet them.’

As she spoke, the young stranger rapidly approached them, with an expression of hope and expectation on his animated countenance; but this changed as quickly to a look of deep despondence and grief, when he had advanced within a few paces, and fixed his searching eyes en Henrich’s face.

‘No!’ he murmured, in a low and mournful voice, and clasping his hands in bitterness of disappointment.’No; it is not Uncas.  It is not my brother of the fleet foot, and the steady hand.  Why does he yet tarry so long?  Four moons have come, and have waned away again, since he began his journey to the land of spirits; and I have sat by his grave, and supplied him with food and water, and watched and wept for his return; and yet he does not come.  O, Uncas, my brother! when shall I hear thy step, and see thy bright glancing eye?  I will go back, and wait, and hope again.’

And the young Indian turned away, too much absorbed in his own feelings to take any further notice of Henrich and Oriana, who, both surprised and affected at his words and manner, followed him silently.  Several other Indians of the Cree tribe now made their appearance among the trees, and hastened towards the travelers.  But a look of disappointment was visible on every countenance:  and the young travelers wondered greatly.[1 and 2]