Hetty did not answer at first, but, with that indescribable feeling that awakens sympathy and intelligence among the youthful and unpracticed of her sex, she hung her head, and the blood suffused her cheek ere she found her tongue. It would have exceeded her stock of intelligence to explain this embarrassment, but, though poor Hetty could not reason, on every emergency, she could always feel. The colour slowly receded from her cheeks, and the girl looked up archly at the Indian, smiling with the innocence of a child, mingled with the interest of a woman.
“My sister, the Drooping Lily, hear such bird!” Chingachgook added, and this with a gentleness of tone and manner that would have astonished those who sometimes heard the discordant cries that often came from the same throat; these transitions from the harsh and guttural, to the soft and melodious not being infrequent in ordinary Indian dialogues. “My sister's ears were open—has she lost her tongue?”
“You are Chingachgook—you must be; for there is no other red man here, and she thought Chingachgook would come.”
“Chin-gach-gook,” pronouncing the name slowly, and dwelling on each syllable—“Great Sarpent, Yengeese tongue.”
[It is singular there should be any question concerning the origin of the well-known sobriquet of “Yankees.” Nearly all the old writers who speak of the Indians first known to the colonists make them pronounce the word “English” as “Yengeese.” Even at this day, it is a provincialism of New England to say “Anglish” instead of “Inglish,” and there is a close conformity of sound between “Anglish” and “yengeese,” more especially if the latter word, as was probably the case, be pronounced short. The transition from “Yengeese,” thus pronounced, to “Yankees” is quite easy. If the former is pronounced “Yangis,” it is almost identical with “Yankees,” and Indian words have seldom been spelt as they are pronounced. Thus the scene of this tale is spelt “Otsego,” and is properly pronounced “Otsago.” The liquids of the Indians would easily convert “En” into “Yen.”]
“Chin-gach-gook,” repeated Hetty, in the same deliberate manner. “Yes, so Hist called it, and you must be the chief.”
“Wah-ta-Wah,” added the Delaware.
“Wah-ta-Wah, or Hist-oh-Hist. I think Hist prettier than Wah, and so I call her Hist.”
“Wah very sweet in Delaware ears!”
“You make it sound differently from me. But, never mind, I did hear the bird you speak of sing, Great Serpent.”