Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1878-02-14
NnRA-A TALE OF 1915.

Heavily ehimed the hour, breaking
upon the stiffness of the night like the
voice of an accusing angel. 1t was
midnight. Had the time at length
arrived, alae- fffsesltt n
of desolation and evil, steal from the
hospitable roof that had sheltered mine
infancy from misery, and my youth
from guilt and all its attendant hor-
rOrs? Heaven knows the thought was
agony Turning, | half retraced my
steps when | thought of Metacom. Dis
appointment acting upon the wild fury
of a temper soured by adversely, alas
perhaps by crime, rushed upon my
recollection. loved him almost to mad
ness Could ought else have prompted
this rash, this treacherOus flight ? Do
you ask me why loved him f? For his
very savageness to others.
| had ever appeared gentle, playful
and timid as a young bird, but the
spirit of my Indian race dwelt deep
within my bosom, like an unquenchabe
fire, burning forever amid the bowels of
the mighty earth, on whose surface
blooms the fragrant flowers and rich,
wide-spreading verdure, until the voice
of nature, amid the strife and cash of
elements, sends it forth to desolate and
Overwhelm the land. Metacom was
savage. The bright and glowing image
of the Deity was stamped upon his
brow. What to him were the inven-
tions of civilized man Their luxurips
but enervated, and the strong arm of
the law executed the revenge which
their pale and cowardly souls shrallk
tremblingly from wreaking. Had not
the dominion of our fathers extended
from the green isles of Aquetnet far
into the distant wild, where the foot
of man grew weary with wandering !?
And now Metac0m was wanderer
and fugitive
Such We're the thoughts that agitated
my bosom as | crept with stealthy
steps through the quiet and soundless
streets.
How solemnly falls the moonlight
upon the dark foliage of the forest.
like bright shadows of the past. illu-
mining with a momentary lustre long
years of misery and despair. Nature
and man alike appeared to repose. At
this hushed and holy hour the spirit of
solitude, with her deep mysteries and
early superstitions, roamed mmolested
by the contaminating presence of man.
A strange feeling of awe for the first
time oppressed my spirits. Hark
crashing of boughs, a light quick step.
and MetacOm stood beside me.
Nora ~ he murmured.
At the sound of that loved voice,
which thrilled through my frame, |
raised my eyes to his and met his kind
ling gaze of rapture and of love.
" Speak, my beloved Nora lives
but in the JOY of thy glance" "
Slowly and sadly he spoke
9 The eagle flies to the mountain,
and the panther to his lair, but Meta
com hath no refuge from the storm.
When | cross the silent water or gaze
upon the lightning's flash, in the dark
hour when prowling wolves are heard,
by day, by night, the spirit of my father
shouts. Metacom revenge revenge =
They have passed like snowfiakes upon
the mountain when the hot sun glares
fiercely on its side. | must perish.
Nora the last chieftain of my race.
Listen ere morn breaks upon Won
smiling village, wrapped in a cloud of
flames, thou shalt behold it cracking
and blazing, a bright heeatomb to the
names of my slaughtered followers.
Then the remembrance of the past
injuries will cease, and theswee stream
of revenge, like the balmy fountains of
the West, will heal my wounded spirit.
All must perish The home of my child
hood, she who snatched thee from the
burning hut, twhen the pale fiends upon
our people burst, nor spared, of all our
great and happy tribe, scarce one to