Thine eye hath been deceived, Sachem, and some false sign
hath led us astray."
Conanchet looked at his companion attentively. After a moment, he
quietly asked--
"Did my father ever mistake his path, in going from his wigwam to the
place where he looked upon the house of his Great Spirit?"
"The matter of that often-travelled path was different, Narragansett. My
foot had worn the rock with many passings, and the distance was a span.
But we have journeyed through leagues of forest, and our route hath lain
across brook and hill, through brake and morass, where human vision hath
not been able to detect the smallest sign of the presence of man."
"My father is old," said the Indian, respectfully. "His eye is not as
quick as when he took the scalp of the Great Chief, or he would know the
print of a moccason--see," making his companion observe the mark of a
human foot that was barely discernible by the manner in which the dead
leaves had been displaced; "his rock is worn, but it is harder than the
ground. He cannot tell by its signs who passed, or when.
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