d Clarke_, i.
363.

"When two parties of those Indians meet," (the Northern Indians,) says
Hearne, "the ceremonies which pass between them are quite different from
those made use of in Europe on similar occasions; for, when they advance
within twenty or thirty yards of each other, they make a full halt, and
in general sit or lie down on the ground, and do not speak for some
minutes. At length one of them, generally an elderly man, if any such be
in the company, breaks silence, by acquainting the other party with
every misfortune that had befallen him, &c. When he has finished his
oration, another orator of the other party relates, in like manner, all
the bad news."--p. 332.

IV.--THE STONE CANOE.

Where is the land of the Chepewyans? Where have that tribe of valiant
warriors and expert hunters built their lodges? I will tell you. It is
in the regions of almost perpetual snows; regions whose suns are never
warm enough to pierce the frozen earth, which, therefore, produces
nothing but moss. No sweet ears of corn grow to reward the toils of the
woman; no wild flowers spring up for the youthful maiden to pluck. The
child wanders forth to gather no berries; no bird of sweet music sings
on the branch; no butterfly flits in the valley. Chill and dreary are
the autumns, cold and bitter the winters; men drink melted ice, when in
other lands buds are bursting open, and wear for a summer garment the
skins of the otter and the beaver. Instead of the mild and whispering
breezes of southern skies, we have the wild winds rushing impetuously
forth from their caves in the icy north, and the sun of the land of the
Chepewyans, knowing his uselessness, and the inability of his beams to
rend the fetters which ice has thrown around our bleak hills and
verdureless plains, stays with us but for a little season, leaving us
for many weary days to be lighted only by the glare of the moon and
stars, on the field of ice and snow. Yet the Chepewyan is not without
his pleasures, as those who live in the land of the sun have their
pains. He may drive from their frozen dens the beasts that make their
beds in the bank of snow, and he may pursue the bear on the iceberg, and
the musk-ox in the glade. In summer he may strike the salmon as he
glides through the waters of the Bear Lake, and send his darts through
the brown eagle, and make captive the white owl, hidden in the foliage
of the dwarf-pine. In the winter, when the storm of hail rattles around