o war--of his liking better to hunt the less
dangerous animals, the _makon_ than the _mackwah_[B], and to spear the
fish that gave little trouble, and to snare peaceful birds--all sports
unworthy of a man. But this tame and pacific spirit was forgiven in
Ohguesse, because he was little and misshapen, and, withal, the
favourite of the Great Spirit. None could call down rain from the
clouds, or conjure them into a clear sky, or foretell the coming of
storms, like him. If he bade the women plant the maize, they might be
sure that a shower was at hand; if he bade the warriors depart on a
distant expedition, they knew it would be successful. His blessing
spoken over the seine was as good as its marriage[C]; his prayer to
the Great Spirit in the cave, or on the hill-top, procured health and
plentiful harvests for his people. And such was Ohguesse.

[Footnote A: The crane or pelican.]

[Footnote B: _Mackwah_, an old bear; _makon_, a bear's cub.]

[Footnote C: It is what they call the bosom-net, with which the
Indians perform this singular ceremony. Before they use it they marry
it to two virgins, and, during the marriage-feast, place it between
the brides; they afterwards exhort it to catch plenty of fish, and
believe they do a great deal to obtain this favour by making large
presents to the sham fathers-in-law.]

Singular were the means by which Aton-Larre testified the affection
she bore the little man. She would wander for hours in search of sweet
berries, because he loved them; and, when in the house of her father,
they were cooking the juicy buffalo's hump, she always begged the most
savoury parts to carry to him she loved. When the winter brought its
snows and storms, she went morning and evening to the cabin in which
he dwelt, to see that there was fire to keep him warm, and, if illness
assailed him, and pain stretched him out on a bed of sickness, for his
strength was little and his body feeble, who but the crazed Aton-Larre
gave him the drink which took the cramp from his limbs, and restored
him to health?

Nor was the little Ohguesse unmindful of her kindness--he met her love
with equal return. If she procured for him ripe berries, he testified
his gratitude in a way which repaid her fondness--and the meat she
gave him, though it was ever so old and tough, was to him the juiciest
that ever touched the lips of man. He would sit on the bank of the
river for half a sun, watching her canoe, as she swept it over the