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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Many, many moons ago, an Indian tribe lived on the banks of a river in Nova Scotia. One of the young braves was named Accadee. He was the tallest and bravest and handsomest young man in the tribe " "Why is it they're always so handsome in stories?" asked Dan. "Why are there never no stories about ugly people?" "Perhaps ugly people never have stories happen to them," suggested Felicity.
"She died of a broken heart before the spring, and she and Accadee were buried side by side on the bank of the river which has ever since borne their names the river Shubenacadie," said the Story Girl. The sharp wind blew around the granary and Cecily shivered. We heard Aunt Janet's voice calling "Children, children."
They had loved each other ever since they were small pappooses, and they had vowed to love each other as long as the river ran. "One twilight, when Accadee was out hunting in the woods, he shot a snow white moose; and he took off its skin and wrapped it around him.
But all about us were shadows; and the weird little tale, told in a voice fraught with mystery and pathos, had peopled them for us with furtive folk in belt and wampum, and dark-tressed Indian maidens. "What did Shuben do when she found out she had killed Accadee?" asked Felicity.
That's all that's necessary." "Do any of you happen to want to hear the rest of my story?" asked the Story Girl in an ominously polite voice that recalled us to a sense of our bad manners. We apologized and promised to behave better; she went on, appeased: "Accadee was all these things that I have mentioned, and he was the best hunter in the tribe besides.
Her eyes were dark and soft, her foot was as light as a breeze, and her voice sounded like a brook in the woods, or the wind that comes over the hills at night. She and Accadee were very much in love with each other, and often they hunted together, for Shuben was almost as skilful with her bow and arrow as Accadee himself.
Below her stood the snow white moose. She drew her arrow to her eye alas, she knew the art only too well! and took careful aim. The next moment Accadee fell dead with her arrow in his heart." The Story Girl paused a dramatic pause. It was quite dark in the fir wood. We could see her face and eyes but dimly through the gloom. A silvery moon was looking down on us over the granary.
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