While we were crossing this bay, where Mount Kineo rose dark before us, within two or three miles, the Indian repeated the traditi...on respecting this mountain's having anciently been a cow moose,--how a mighty Indian hunter, whose name I forget, succeeded in killing this queen of the moose tribe with great difficulty,... and, to his eyes, this mountain had still the form of the moose in a reclining posture, its precipitous side presenting the outline of her head.... An Indian tells such a story as if he thought it deserved to have a good deal said about it, only he has not got it to say, and so he makes up for the deficiency by a drawling tone, long-windedness, and a dumb wonder which he hopes will be contagious.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »