ence to the superior
years of the other, or because he wished to collect his thoughts
before he began the conversation. Finding, however, he could obtain
from the Solitary no further sign of recognition, he spoke in his own
language.

"My brother has a big heart. He is making gifts for the beautiful
women of his nation."

"Indian," replied Holden, "think not to deceive me. At this moment
thou considerest this an occupation unfit for a man."

"My brother has very long eyes. They can see the woodpecker on the
rotten tree across the river, but they reach not here," laying his
hand upon his breast. "The Holder of the Heavens loves not to see
things alike. He therefore made the leaf of the oak to differ from
that of the hickory, and the pine from both, and also the white race
from the red. And, for the same reason, he taught the white man to
make big lodges of wood, and brick and stone, and to swim over the
waters in large canoes with wings: while to the red man he gave the
forests and prairies, with the deer, and bear, and buffalo, and caused
him to dwell in very small wigwams made of bark. And so, also, he
taught my white brother to weave beautiful baskets, but denied the
skill to my father's son."

The Indian must have supposed he had seriously offended his new
acquaintance, to induce him thus elaborately to attempt to avert
his suspicions. However that might be, the Solitary resumed the
conversation as though he felt no resentment.

"There is wisdom in thy speech. The Great Spirit loves variety, and it
is he that maketh men to differ. But there was once a time many moons
ago, when thy ancestors builded great houses and dwelt in cities, and
sailed over the seas in winged-canoes."

The Indian cast a quick, sharp glance at the Solitary, as if he wished
to read his very soul. For a moment he looked as though he doubted the
evidence of his senses. But recovering his composure, he said:

"The thoughts of my brother are very high, and his voice like the
sound of a great wind."

"Thou comprehendest me not. Know then, Indian, that innumerable years
ago, there lived far towards the rising sun, twelve tribes, called the
'Children of Israel,' whom the Master of Life greatly loved. And they
had wise and brave Sachems, who led them to battle, and their feet
were red with the blood of their enemies. But they became wicked, and
would not hearken unto the words of the Great Spirit, and He turned
his face away from them. So the