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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)"

Then tossing it back with contemptuous coolness
to its owner, he replied,--
"The eyes of my brother are weak with age. He is not
cunning, like a red skin. The Ottawa has often seen the
Saganaw in their fort, and he knows their chiefs have
fine hair like women; but this is like the bristles of
the fox. My brother has not slain a great chief, but a
common warrior."
A flush of irrepressible and threatening anger passed
over the features of the vast savage.
"Is it for a boy," he fiercely asked, "whose eyes know
not yet the colour of blood, to judge of the enemies that
fall by the tomahawk of Wacousta? but a great warrior
never boasts of actions that he does not achieve. It is
the son of the great chief of the Saganaw whom he has
slain. If the smooth face doubts it, and has courage to
venture, even at night, within a hundred yards of the
fort, he will see a Saganaw without a scalp; and he will
know that Saganaw by his dress--the dress," he pursued,
with a low emphatic laugh, "that Oucanasta, the sister
of the smooth face, loved so much to look upon."
Quicker than thought was the upspringing of the young
Indian to his feet.


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