Stretched forth his long bare arm and shriveled hand,
And pointing round the sky-encircled land;—
XXXII.
“As far,” he said, and solemn was his tone,
“As from Coweset’s hill the hunter’s sight
Goes tow’rd the Nipnet—tow’rd the rising sun—
And o’er the mighty billows, foaming bright,
Where bleak Manisses’ shores they thunder on,
Moved Narraganset warriors,—till the White