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 his story in the following words:
When I left my five brothers, said he, I crossed the river that glides by my cabin, and travelled towards the mountains which are called by Indians the Backbone of the Great Spirit. Upon the sixth day, I came to the hither part of the mountain, and sat down upon its eastern edge to rest my wearied limbs. It was near the hour of evening; the sun had not retired from the earth, but the lofty peaks of the mountains hid his beams from those who sat in the shade of those peaks, making it night to them. At length the sun set, and a thick veil of darkness was cast over the face of the earth. The ugly bat came forth, the mournful night-bird began his song, the wise owl hooted on the limb of the tree, and the dazzling little fire-fly twinkled in the glades, and among the trunks of the giant oaks. Then it was that a distant sound of music came to the ears of Apaumax the Nanticoke, who is myself. He listened, and caught the words, of a song issuing from a valley near the hillock upon which he sate. Softer than the plaintive cry of the dove, sweeter than the love-notes of the song-sparrow, was that song. Presently other voices could be heard laughing or singing, singly, or in concert. The Nanticoke was so greatly charmed with those notes that he determined to know whence they issued, and whose were the voices that sang them. So, descending the hill, he approached cautiously the spot where he had heard them, until he came suddenly upon a company of strange women who were dancing upon a green spot in the valley. They were the greater part of them very small, many being not taller than the sprout of three moons; but there were others, whose stature arose to the height of a full-grown person. Of the latter there was one whom the whole seemed to obey, the tallest woman of the group, and the most beautiful. She did not seem very youthful; at least her features spoke not of youth, nor did they imply age, but the period of life when woman is like a ripe grape, the sweetness of which is diminished by being suffered to hang a single day more on the vine untasted. She had a pale skin--ye see how pale--her cheeks were red as the flower that blooms among thorns, and her eye shone like the little flower which emulates the blue of the sky. Her lips were red and pouting, and her teeth whiter than the lily. Beautiful creature! lovely and beloved woman!