h, upon one side of the
cave, sat a very little maiden--ye see how very little, and ye see how
beautiful. When the Nanticoke entered, she drew her furred mantle
around her, and pretended to hide her face, but she hid not her eyes,
which were bent on the stranger youth. He had seen enough of her
countenance to judge that she was very beautiful, and he loved her
slight form, which he saw was light and graceful as the young fawn. He
now entered into conversation with the old man, and they talked of
many matters--he conversing quite like a sensible man, except that now
and then he would take his strange tumble. At length, victuals were
placed before them, and they sat down. The beautiful little maiden--with
the usual pride of woman--dressed herself, and her black locks, with
much care, and then came and placed herself at the table at which they
were eating. Soft and fond glances were interchanged; and, before they
had finished their meal, each had as good as said "I love." When they
had done eating, the old man and woman arose, and under some pretence
or other left the room, carrying with them the whole brood of odd and
beast-like creatures. So the Nanticoke was left alone with the
beautiful little maiden, to press her soft little hand, and to say in
her ears those affectionate things which are always held sweeter by
lovers for being told in whispers. Not much persuasion was necessary
to obtain her consent to leave her father's house, and go with
Appomattox to the spot where he had taken up his abode--to the cabin
he had built beside the beautiful river Nanticoke. Their journey
thither was not long--upon the sixth sun, they sat down upon the
little plat of grass before the door of the cabin, and plucked the
ripe grapes from the vines that leant upon its roof, and drank of the
crystal stream which rattled over the pebbly bottom to the gentle
river, and gathered the delicious berries that hung on every bush. And
they saw the glorious sun illumine the earth, and the moon and stars
lighting up the night, and the northern skies red with the dance of
departed friends, and both blessed the moment that carried the
Nanticoke to the hut of the very odd fish.

Brothers, I am that Nanticoke; and the beautiful little creature is
she that sits at my side, and the little child that rolls about on the
grass is the child of our love. My story is told.

* * * * *

And then the fourth Nanticoke rose, and told