Excerpt from Morah, or the Indian Wife: A Moral Tale; Also, Songs and Ballads; And the Apparition; A Tale of Hereford, Founded Upon Fact I cannot give, but I will sell, Or dicker* with ye, if yer will. Sell 1 cried the savage gold I've none To purchase with-all mine is gone My peltries, too, new swell thy store, And birds may safely round me soar The wolf may follow on my trail, The buff 'lo heedless snuff the gale I now must from the panther ee, Though once the monster ed from me No more by me the bears are shot, Thou hast my faithful ri e got I cannot e'en the beavers snare Are they more cunning than they were '3 Not so 'tis I am grown more dull? The dams with beaver still are full, But y me not -they seem to know I have no traps to catch them now. His eye rolled, with a meaning glare, Upon his host, but found not there One pitying glance to meet his look So moaned he, till his fine frame shook But not with passion, -that was dead, And all his nobler feelings ed His head sank listless on his breast, His arms were folded o'er his chest I have him now within my eye, The picture of despondency. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works."