im never lie down or rise without
talking to Him; let him stay his hand when it would strike a blow in
anger; let him forgive his foes; let him seek to do the will of the
Great Spirit, and a sweet peace shall fill his heart, such as he never
knew before. Let my brother do that; let him tell the good news to his
friends; let him listen to the words of the missionaries and talk to his
people.

"The father of Deerfoot was a chief of the Shawanoes, who loved to
fight; Deerfoot when a child was a wildcat in his hate of his enemies
and of the pale faces; but the Great Spirit whispered in his ear, and he
became another being. It was the Great Spirit who told him just now that
danger threatened him. Hay-uta knows that Deerfoot could have slain him
had he wished to do so; but he never wished him ill; he first showed him
he was his master, that Hay-uta might listen to his words; will my
brother forget what Deerfoot has said to him?"

Every being, whether groping in the night of barbarism or walled in by
the skepticism of an advanced civilization, has felt at one time or
another, an irrestrainable longing to draw aside the veil which shuts
out the great hereafter, and solve the mystery of the life that is to
come. Many a time is the heart stirred to its uttermost depths by the
chastening hand of affliction, or when gazing on the glories of the
stars and firmament, or when listening to the meanings of the vast deep,
the soft sighing of the winds in the forest, or the lisping prayer of
infancy. No proof of the immortality of the soul can equal that of its
very yearning for immortality, and dim, strange, half-heard whisperings
of the Beyond become voices more convincing than all the scientific
scoffing and brilliant ridicule of those whose learning carries them
beyond the trusting faith of childhood, and stops just short of the
grandeur of the light of perfect knowledge.

When Deerfoot addressed his question to the Sauk warrior, the latter did
not answer, but continued gazing into his face as though he heard not
the words, and his thoughts were far away. The Shawanoe was wise enough
to suspect the truth, and refrained from repeating the question. He,
too, held his peace, and for several minutes the strange scene lasted.
The two Indians looked at each other without speaking.

Meanwhile the afternoon was drawing to a close, and darkness was
creeping through the forest. The camp-fire had burned so low that it
gave out no light, and