creatures so beautiful, so wonderful, who praised God in
the forest, even as angels did in heaven."

The forest Indian, however, is not content with merely stating that the
spirits of infants enter birds; but he goes on to say that while the
spirits of Indian children always enter the beings of the finest
singers and the most beautiful of all the birds, the spirits of the
children of white people enter the bodies of stupid, ugly birds that
just squawk around, and are neither interesting to look at nor pleasant
to listen to, but are quarrelsome, and thievish. When I asked
Oo-koo-hoo to name a few birds into which the spirits of white children
entered, he mentioned, among others, the woodpecker--which the Indians
consider to have, proportionately, the longest and sharpest tongue of
all birds. That reminds me of the reply I received from one of the
characters in this book, when I wrote him, among others, requesting
that he grant me permission to make use of his name, in order to add
authority to my text. Like others, he begged me to refrain from
quoting his name, as he was afraid that the information he had given me
might be the cause of the Hudson's Bay Company stopping his pension. I
had suggested that he refer the matter to his wife as she, too, figures
in this story, and the following is part of his reply: "This being an
affair between you and I--I have not consulted my wife. For as you
know, the human female tongue is very similar to that of the female
woodpecker: unusually long, and much too pointed to be of any use."

THE HONESTY OF INDIANS

But to return to the Indian's reproach of the white man's dishonesty;
when he states that the spirits of white children enter only those
birds that are counted great thieves, one cannot wonder at it, for as
far as honesty is concerned, a comparison between the forest Indian and
the white man brands the latter as a thief. Not only is that the
private opinion of all the old fur traders I have met, but I could
quote many other authorities; let two, however, suffice: Charles Mair,
the author of "Tecumseh," and a member of the Indian Treaty Expedition
of 1899, says:

"The writer, and doubtless some of his readers, can recall the time
when to go to 'Peace River' seemed almost like going to another sphere,
where, it was conjectured, life was lived very differently from that of
civilized man. And, truly, it was to enter into an unfamiliar state of
things; a region in which