cold looks and short answers where they had looked for
flattery and presents.

The Indians resented the conduct of the English bitterly, and when
Pontiac learned that they claimed the lands of his tribe, he said within
himself: "The hatred of the Ottawas has slept long enough. It is time
for it to wake and destroy these British who treat the red man as if he
had no right to the land where he was born."

II. PONTIAC'S CHILDHOOD

We love our country principally because of the political freedom its
government allows us. As we study its history, the lives of its heroes,
and the struggles they have made for the liberties we enjoy, our
patriotism grows stronger.

Pontiac loved his country, too, but in a much simpler and more personal
way, as you will understand when you have learned about the proud
chieftain's boyhood and youth.

[Illustration: SQUAW WITH PAPPOOSE]

The birds scarcely know the forest so well as he did. When he was a tiny
baby,--a fat, brown, little pappoose,--his mother used to bundle him up
in skins, strap him to a board, and carry him on her back when she went
to gather the bark of the young basswood tree for twine. As the strong
young squaw sped along the narrow path, soft and springing to her
moccasined feet with its depth of dried pine needles, the baby on her
back was well content. Even if he felt cross and fretful the regular
motion pleased him; the cool dim green of the forest rested him; the
sweet smell of the pines soothed him; and the gentle murmur of the wind
in the tree tops soon lulled him to sleep.

When the mother clambered over a large tree trunk that had fallen across
the path and the little pappoose was jolted wide awake, he did not cry.
His beady black eyes followed every stray sunbeam and every bounding
rabbit, or chance bird with wonder and delight. When his mother went to
work she placed his rude cradle beside a tree where he could look on,
out of harm's way. He was very little trouble, and she always took him
with her when she went to get cedar bark, to gather rushes for mats and
herbs for dyes, to pick up fagots for the fire, or to get sap from the
sugar tree. So it happened that when he grew up Pontiac could not
remember a time when the dark forest did not seem like home to him.

[Illustration: INDIAN SQUAW AT WORK]

As soon as he was old enough to understand words, he heard his mother
laughing with her neighbors about the men in the village who stayed
about their