stranger was not Uncas. There was even pleasure in his countenance as
the clear glance of the English boy's deep blue eye met his own; and he
rose from his seat at the head of the grave, and, going up to Henrich,
gently took his hand, and said--

'Will the white stranger be Jyanough's brother? His step is free, and
his eyes are bright, and his glance goes deep into Jyanough's heart.
Will the pale-face be the friend of him who has now no friend; for four
moons are guile and Uncas does not answer to my call?'

Henrich and Jyanough were strangers: they were altogether different in
race, in education, and in their mode of thinking and feeling. Yet
there was one ground of sympathy between them, of which the young
Indian seemed instinctively conscious. Both had recently known deep
sorrow; and both had felt that sickening sense of loneliness that falls
on the young heart when suddenly divided from all it most dearly loves,
by death or other circumstances. Jyanough and his elder brother Uncas
had been deprived of both their parents, not many months before the
fatal disease broke out which had carried off so many victims amongst
the Crees. The orphan youths had then become all-in-all to each other,
and their mutual attachment had excited the respect and admiration of
the whole village, of which, at his father's death, Uncas became the
leading man. Had he lived his brother would have assisted him in the
government and direction of that portion of the tribe but when he fell
before the desolating pestilence, Jyanough was too young and
inexperienced to be made Sachem, and the title was conferred on a
warrior who was deemed more capable of supporting the dignity of the
community. Thenceforth the youth was alone in his wigwam. He had no
sister to under take its domestic duties, and no friend with whom it
pleased him to dwell. He saw something in Henrich's countenance that