I gave him lands, and taught him how to plant,

To fish and hunt,—for he was ignorant.

[XIX.]

“Brother, attend! Still did Awanux grow;

Still did he ask for land;—I gave him more—

And more—and more, till now his hatchet’s blow

Is at Namasket heard, with crash and roar

Of falling oaks, and, like the whit’ning snow,

His growing numbers spread my borders o’er;

Scarce do they leave a scant and narrow place