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⟨herds⟩. The people stood at the doors of their huts ⟨affrighted⟩, but Mansong lifted high his javelin, and ⟨struck⟩ it to the heart of the leader of the Moorish ⟨robbers⟩, who fell dead upon the plain.
The Moors were determined to resent this outrage, ⟨as⟩ they termed it, and sent back the javelin; the ⟨aim⟩ was good, and Mansong fell to the ground, ⟨bathed⟩ in his blood. The inhabitants set up a loud ⟨scream⟩, and the Moors drove off. Mansong was ⟨borne⟩ to his father's hovel upon the shoulders of his ⟨countrymen⟩. When they had conveyed him to his ⟨hut⟩, and laid him upon a mat, all the spectators ⟨joined⟩ in lamenting his fate, by screaming and ⟨bawling⟩ in a most piteous manner. Onowauhee ⟨tore⟩ his hair in the bitterness of his grief; and ⟨casting⟩ himself on the cold body of his son, expired ⟨in⟩ sight of his bewildered spectators!
Mansong was not, however, deprived of life. The ⟨javelin⟩ had pierced his breast, and a great effusion ⟨of⟩ blood succeeded. This occasioned a fainting fit, ⟨from⟩ which he shortly recovered. The astonished ⟨people⟩ made frantic gestures in token of their joy, ⟨and⟩, being of the Mahometan persuasion, exclaimed, "⟨la⟩ ifla et ella Mahomet rasowl allabi."—"There ⟨is⟩ but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet."
Our hero was soon perfectly recovered, and ⟨resolved⟩ to revenge the death of his father, whom ⟨he⟩ for a long time bewailed in the bitterness of filial ⟨grief⟩. He collected his countrymen, and exhorted ⟨them⟩ to rush upon the Moors and repair the losses ⟨they⟩ daily sustained; but tho people of Simbing ⟨could⟩ not be prevailed on.
The fiery soul of Mansong was not to be defeated ⟨by⟩ a cool refusal. Another opportunity soon ⟨presented⟩ itself; he then pictured to them the horrors ⟨and⟩ calamities they were daily exposed to, and again
