Syllabify, accent, and mark sounds of letters in the following words: Delaware, thinner, Susquehanna, grinding.
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con fu’sion, disorder.
sense’less, without the power of thinking or acting; seemingly lifeless.
re vived’, came back to life; recovered.
cun’ning, slyness; skill.
pro voke’, make angry.
stunned_, made senseless by a blow on the head_.
meek’ly, in a gentle manner.
his’to ry, what is told of the past; a story.
tot’ter, shake as if about to fall.
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THE STORY OF INDIAN SPRING.
“It was as I had feared; we were in danger of an attack from the Indians.
“Something had happened at the trading-post to provoke them, and rouse their thirst for blood. But a quiet night passed by and the sun shone again over the hills in wonderful beauty.
“Suddenly, there sounded from the forest a scream. I had never heard it before, but I knew it. It was the terrible war-whoop. Then all was confusion and horror.
“I saw Nanito, an Indian that I knew, who had eaten at our table. I saw him strike down our father, while Lizzie fought to save him.
“But it was no use, there was no mercy in the heart of the Indian. They carried Lizzie away from us, and we never saw her again.
“Poor little frightened Mary and I were tied together, our hands fastened behind us, and we were given, to—whom do you think, Robbie?—to Red Feather. Then I hated him, and resolved that I would kill him if I could.
“After a while he took us out of the house, and then I saw that most of the houses in the little village were burning. The women and children were saved alive, but nearly all the men were killed.
“I was very quiet, for I wanted my hands untied, and I thought perhaps Red Feather would pity me and unfasten them.
“Little Mary was frightened nearly to death. She had not spoken since she saw the Indian strike father down,—when she screamed and fell senseless.
“For a good while I thought she was dead. She had revived a great deal, but had not spoken.
“About sundown Red Feather led us down past the spring, out into the woods, but not far away. We could still see the smoke rising from the burning houses. The Indians had gone some distance farther and camped with the white prisoners.
“Red Feather could speak English, so I told him if he would untie my hands, I would make his fire, and bake his corn cake for him.
“He was old and feeble, and had lost much of his natural cunning. He knew me, and trusted me; so without speaking, he took his hunting knife from his belt, cut the cords, and I was free.