is no passing over in silence or unrevenged. Beautiful
luminary! who art thyself so regular in thy course, and in the wise
distribution thou makest of thy light from morning to evening, wouldst
thou have us not imitate thee? And whom can we better imitate? The earth
stands in need of thy governing thyself as thou dost towards it. There
are certain places, where thy influence does not suffer itself to be
felt, because thou dost not judge them worthy of it. But, as for us, it
is plain that we are thy children; for we can know no origin but that
which thy rays have given us, when first marrying efficaciously, with
the earth we inhabit, they impregnated its womb, and caused us to grow
out of it like the herbs of the field, and the trees of the forest, of
which thou art equally the common father. To imitate thee then, we
cannot do better than no longer to countenance or cherish those, who
have proved themselves so unworthy thereof. They are no longer, as to
us, under a favorable aspect. They shall dearly pay for the wrong they
have done us. They have not, it is true, deprived us of the means of
hunting for our maintenance and cloathing; they have not cut off the
free passage of our canoes, on the lakes and rivers of this country; but
they have done worse; they have supposed in us a tameness of sentiments,
which does not, nor cannot, exist in us. They have defloured our
principal maidens in wantonness, and lightly sent them back to us. This
is the just motive which cries out for our vengeance. Sun! be thou
favorable to us in this point, as thou art in that of our hunting, when
we beseech thee to guide us in quest of our daily support. Be propitious
to us, that we may not fail of discovering the ambushes that may be laid
for us; that we may not be surprized unawares in our cabbins, or
elsewhere; and, finally, that we may not fall into the hands of our
enemies. Grant them no chance with us, for they deserve none. Behold the
skins of their beasts now a burnt-offering to thee! Accept it, as if the
fire-brand I hold in my hands, and now set to the pile, was lighted
immediately by thy rays, instead of our domestic fire."

Every one of the assistants, as well men as women, listen attentively to
this invocation, with a kind of religious terror, and in a profound
silence. But scarce is the pile on a blaze, but the shouts and war-cries
begin from all parts. Curses and imprecations are poured forth without
mercy or reserve, on the enemy