Beadle's Dime Novels No. 142: The Sagamore of Saco — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

38 THE SAGAMORE OF 8ACO. CHAPTER XVII. A REMINISCENCE. WE need not follow our nimble scout on his homeward way, a journey performed with far greater celerity than when he fol- lowed the fovtstepsof Acashee. Green meadows and mountain hights were left behind him, and with foot swift as that of the wild stag, and knowing as little of fatigue, he in due time reached the Casco Bay. Here he found a canoe secreted orde- serted, which he took without scruple and launched fearlessly across the water, the long strokes of the paddle showing him _ fresh as the day on which he started upon his adventures. No sooner was it known that he had returned, than the coun- cil-fire was lighted, the pipe passed round in token of good, for _ the calumet was as indicative of loyalty and secrecy in the eye of the sayage, as was the rose to the classical world. ‘The young scout told his story in a few brief, frank words.10 which the sagamore listened in silence. He had been confident _ of learning something of the fate of Hope Vines, through this return of Acashee to OF gag and now he seemed doomedto disappointment. He had, in spite of himself, dwelt upon the words of the wizard, “ Go to the east,” and he felt that there he should learn of the fate of Hope Vines. When the scout at | h told of the mysterious disappearance of the woman at the foot of the falls, and the no less mysterious appearance of the old man, his interest revived. He waited the conelusion of - ee and looked around ‘for the comments of the older _ All eyes were fixed upon War-ra-was-ky—a chief who had numbered nearly a hundred years, and who was scarred by many a hard-contested battle, renowned also for bis great wisdon). ‘ ising slowly to his feet, and resting heavily upon his war-club, the old Nestor thus spoke. _ | _ “The words of the young brave awaken a OE ee cindfal of Listen, my brothers ! t e Great Spirit, mindful of his children, has filled tbeir hunting- ith secret where they may hide them- ig nds w . baat tee iselyes when the black cloud descends, and the air is ringing ove wari clubs and lightning arrow-heads. “ Li ! my youth, ere the moss of a) had con- verted the sapling into a gnarled and withered tree, our tribes held power over the Androscoggins. We demanded tribute of them, which they refused to pay. We burned their wigwams, slew their braves in battle, and chased them from their old ) connichbooks.conn § —