m milk and meat, or help him to prepare the ground for
the seeds he was commanded to plant therein.

My brother demands what did the red man with the gifts which were
appointed to him. I will tell him. He looked on them very curiously
for a minute, then wrapped them up loosely in his blanket, and laid
them aside, intending to do with them the next day as his white
brother had done with his. Just then the remembrance of something came
across his mind, which led him astray from his purpose, and he thought
no more of the blanket or the creatures which it contained, until many
moons had passed away. When the remembrance of the imprisoned animals
returned to his mind, he repaired to the spot where he had deposited
them--nothing remained but the blanket. He immediately commenced a
search for them, and found the pleasure and excitement so great and
exhilarating, that ever since he has adopted this mode of obtaining
his meat, instead of the method of raising tame animals followed by
the foolish white men. It is still his favourite pursuit, and he no
longer regrets his want of care, or wishes to repair his error. While
the white man is doomed to hear the cackling of geese and the grunting
of hogs, the lowing of kine and the bleating of sheep, and to watch
over all and to tend all with the care and nursing which a mother
bestows upon her helpless child, the red man with his arrows slung to
his shoulder, and his mocassins tight-laced to his legs, escapes to
the howl of the panther, and finds joy in the cry of the wolf. Over
mountain, and through forest, goes the happy Indian, free as the air,
while the white man is chained to his dull and spiritless pursuits,
and fettered by his endless cares. The Great Being, doubtless,
intended the Indian good when he made the apportionment of the
creatures, but the Indian has never found fault with the incident
which released him from the care of them, and gave him the pleasant
occupation of hunting in lieu thereof.

THE MAIDEN'S ROCK.

If my brother has seen the River of Fish, he will know that, at the
distance of a few moons' journey, below the rush of waters which the
white man calls the Falls of St. Anthony, but which the Indians call
the Island of Eagles[A], there is a beautiful lake, which the same
people have named Lake Pepin. It is a place so beautiful to behold,
that distant Indian nations have journeyed thither, and white people
come from the city of Strong Walls, to look a