An Indian Legend 



The Humble Angler passed his vacation 

 days for many years at Grand Lake, Maine. 

 A pleasant friendship followed between the 

 Indian guide and himself. Sabattis grew 

 more communicative, and when in the 

 proper mood and atmosphere told him sto- 

 ries and legends of his people. The following 

 narrative is selected out of a goodly number, 

 as its setting is familiar to many sportsmen. 



Night's mantle had begun to fall o'er the 

 quivering waters of Grand Lake. A glorious 

 day had bestowed more than an excellent 

 creel; and belated on this account, it had 

 grown quite dark before they embarked in 

 the birch bark canoe, homeward bound. The 

 stars began to gleam. The restless cries of 

 loons, the hoot of owls, the gentle rippling 

 of waters, and the soft swish of blade were 

 woven into one of Nature's lullabies. 



Save in outline, Sabattis could hardly be 

 discerned. The magnetic influences of the 

 hour welded themselves into a swinging 

 song expressed in spoken words, soft and low, 

 that kept the paddle's cadence. 

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