As he travelled
through this delightful scene he was very often tempted to pluck the
flowers that rose everywhere about him in the greatest variety and
profusion, having never seen several of them in his own country:
but he quickly found, that though they were objects of his sight,
they were not liable to his touch. He at length came to the side of
a great river, and, being a good fisherman himself, stood upon the
banks of it some time to look upon an angler that had taken a great
many shapes of fishes, which lay flouncing up and down by him.
I should have told my reader that this Indian had been formerly
married to one of the greatest beauties of his country, by whom he
had several children. This couple were so famous for their love and
constancy to one another that the Indians to this day, when they
give a married man joy of his wife, wish that they may live together
like Marraton and Yaratilda. Marraton had not stood long by the
fisherman when he saw the shadow of his beloved Yaratilda, who had
for some time fixed her eye upon him before he discovered her. Her
arms were stretched out towards him; floods of tears ran down her
eyes; her looks, her hands, her voice called him over to her, and,
at the same time, seemed to tell him that the river was unpassable.
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