them to be refreshed by rest
and slumber, as for man to have his periodical exemptions from fatigue.
I never met with an Indian who entertained any thing like the opinion of
their cause current among philosophers. Attempting once to explain the
phenomenon to a groupe of Indians, I found myself treated with as much
contempt and abhorrence as a company of pious Christians would express
for an Atheist who broadly avowed his creed.

(2) _Glittering at the sand of the Spirit's Island_.--p. 55.

The Chipewas say, that some of their people, being once driven on the
bland of Maurepas, which lies towards the north-east part of lake
Superior, found on it large quantities of heavy, shining, yellow sand,
that from their description must have been gold-dust. Being struck with
the beautiful appearance of it, in the morning, when they reentered
their canoe, they attempted to bring some away; but a spirit of amazing
size, according to their account sixty feet in height, strode into the
water after them, and commanded them to deliver back what they had
taken. Terrified at his gigantic stature, and seeing that he had nearly
overtaken them, they were glad to restore their shining treasure; on
which they were suffered to depart without further molestation.

THE ALARM OF THE GREAT SENTINEL.

A TRADITION OF THE DELAWARES.

Once upon a time, a young Indian of the Delaware nation, hunting in the
lands which belonged to his tribe, had the good fortune to take captive
an old white owl, who had for his lodge a hollow oak in which he dwelt
with his family. As it was a time of great scarcity among the Indians,
all their late hunts having been singularly unsuccessful, the hunter
determined to kill the owl and make a present of its flesh to the maiden
he loved, who had tasted no food for many suns. As he was rubbing his
knife upon a stone, that it might be sharp and do the murder easily, the
owl, who, with his leg tied to a tree, was looking on with a very
curious and knowing air, turning his head first one way and then another,
now scratching it with his untied claw and now shaking it as the beams
of the sun came into his eyes, asked him what he was doing. The young
hunter, who, being a good and brave warrior, scorned to tell a lie(1)
even to an owl, answered that he was making ready to cut off his head.

"Poh, poh," said the cunning old fellow, "if you kill me, what will my
wife, and my daughters, and my little ones, do? My woman is ol