tinue running after other
people's wives and daughters. Let them not fight one another. Let them
not sing the medicine song, for in singing the medicine song they speak
to the evil spirit. Drive from your lands," added the Master of Life,
"those dogs in red clothing; they are only an injury to you. When you
want anything, apply to me, as your brothers do, and I will give to
both. Do not sell to your brothers that which I have placed on the earth
as food. In short, become good, and you shall want nothing. When you
meet one another, bow, and give one another the ... hand of the heart.
Above all, I command thee to repeat, morning and evening, the prayer
which I have given thee."
The Indian promised to do the will of the Master of Life, and also to
recommend it strongly to the Indians; adding that the Master of Life
should be satisfied with them.
His conductor then came, and leading him to the foot of the mountain,
told him to take his garments and return to his village; which was
immediately done by the Indian.
His return much surprised the inhabitants of the village, who did not
know what had become of him. They asked him whence he came; but, as he
had been enjoined to speak to no one until he saw the chief of the
village, he motioned to them with his hand that he came from above.
Having entered the village, he went immediately to the chief's wigwam,
and delivered to him the prayer and laws intrusted to his care by the
Master of Life.
[86] Pontiac told this story to the assembled Indians in 1763, to
enlist them in his plan to resist the transfer of the country to
the English authority, on the fall of the French power in the
Canadas.
THE SIX HAWKS,
OR
BROKEN WING.
AN ALLEGORY OF FRATERNAL AFFECTION.
There were six young falcons living in a nest, all but one of whom were
still unable to fly, when it so happened that both the parent birds
were shot by the hunters in one day. The young brood waited with
impatience for their return; but night came, and they were left without
parents and without food. Meeji-geeg-wona, or the Gray Eagle, the
eldest, and the only one whose feathers had become stout enough to
enable him to leave the nest, assumed the duty of stilling their cries
and providing them with food, in which he was very successful. But,
after a short time had passed, he, by an unlucky mischance, got one of
his wings broken in pouncing upon a swan. This was the more unl
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