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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"

He looked for the prisoner, and saw him sitting up in the
corner. One arm was free, and the other nearly so. He had almost
untied the thongs which bound him; a few moments more and he would
have been free.
"Ugh!" exclaimed the young brave, awakening his chief and pointing
to the hunter.
The chief glanced at his prisoner; then looked more closely, and
with one spring was on his feet, a drawn tomahawk in his hand. A
short, shrill yell issued from his lips. Roused by that clarion
call, the young braves jumped up, trembling in eager excitement. The
chief's summons had been the sharp war-cry of the Delawares.
He manifested as intense emotion as could possibly have been
betrayed by a matured, experienced chieftain, and pointing to the
hunter, he spoke a single word.
* * *
At noonday the Indians entered the fields of corn which marked the
outskirts of the Delaware encampment.
"Kol-loo--kol-loo--kol-loo."
The long signal, heralding the return of the party with important
news, pealed throughout the quiet valley; and scarcely had the
echoes died away when from the village came answering shouts.
Once beyond the aisles of waving corn the hunter saw over the
shoulders of his captors the home of the redmen. A grassy plain,
sloping gradually from the woody hill to a winding stream, was
brightly beautiful with chestnut trees and long, well-formed lines
of lodges.


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