Chapter LXXIX

But still across his mind a shadow came--
A doubt that seemed a superstitious fear;
For yet no Indian throng, with loud acclaim,
Had bid the welcome of Whatcheer! Whatcheer!
Till when he should be tossed;--as did proclaim
That nameless stranger--that mysterious seer;--
But from Haup’s Sachem he a grant will gain;
Such were best welcome from that Sachem’s train.