Explore "The Last of the Mohicans" by James Fenimore Cooper on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Before these fields were shorn and till'd, / Full to the brim our rivers flow'd; / The melody of waters fill'd / The fresh and boundless wood; / And torrents dash'd, and rivulets play'd, / And fountains spouted in the shade. / Bryant
Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward and his confiding companions to penetrate still deeper into a forest that contained such treacherous inmates, we must use an author's privilege, and shift the scene a few miles to the westward of the place where we have last seen them.