human
A bird! a bird!
gpt
Thank Heaven, cried Jane, fervently;
human
Yes, we are near a forest, said the chief;
gpt
Amen to that! said Sidney;
human
What can be worse, indignantly asked Edward,
gpt
Do not repine, Edward, said Jane, gently
human
Those bleaching bones we passed indicate that others have fared worse than we have', for _we_ still live.
gpt
They were nothing but Indians, and they get used to such things,
human
Does the young brave think the Indians cannot feel? asked the chief, reproachfully.
gpt
He will not repine at his lot, because red blood flows in his veins, and he scorns to be a coward. Those that wail most feel the least; they throw their griefs to the winds; but the Indian is too proud to be pitied, and hides the grief in his heart, singing his war-song to cover its workings.
human
You make heroes of your people, chief,
gpt
We are warriors and braves,