ght, their hands were so enfeebled by
the strong waters that the quest was fruitless, and the maize which
was planted was suffered to be choked with weeds. Instead of the noble
pastimes of war and the chace, they loitered around the cabins of the
white men; and, instead of the tongue which had been given them by
their father, the Great Spirit, and with which they had spoken for
many, many ages, they learned the tongue of the stranger. The words
and wise sayings of the prophets had no longer a charm for them, and
the traditions which once flowed from their lips to patient, and
pleased, and attentive, hearers, were neglected for the lying tales of
the stranger. The knees of the once swift runner shook like a reed in
the wind. The heart of the once fearless warrior had become softer
than woman's. The blood of his enemies no more reddened his tomahawk;
his shout of onset was heard no more among the hills of the Iroquois.
He became a prey to the cunning hatred of the strangers, whose anger
was kindled against him because he was the son of the Great Spirit.
And they mixed the poisonous juices of herbs with the strong waters
they gave him, that his death might be sure. Is it strange that our
people have disappeared from the plain, as the dew in the morning or
the snows of the Planting-Moon before the beams of the noontide sun?

Brothers, more than thirty years have passed since a council-fire was
kindled on the Prophets' Plain, in the Moon of Early Frost. It was a
great fire, for there were assembled all the people of the valley. In
the middle of the assembly stood the priests, next the chiefs and
warriors of Wonnehush, and without them the aged men and women, and
the children, and the wives of the warriors. Then the priests began
the dance and the howl, wherewith they commence their invocations to
the Great Spirit. Suddenly there appeared in the midst of the people a
stranger who was a head taller than the tallest man of the nation. His
form was noble and majestic beyond any thing ever seen by our people.
His eye had the brightness of the sunbeam, and his manner was
graceful as the waving of a field of corn. Upon the border of his
mantle were strange figures; and his belt of wampum glittered like the
girdle of the heavens. He was one upon whom no Onondaga eye had ever
before looked--a stranger in the valley--perhaps a warrior sent hither
by one of the fierce tribes of the land to insult, by some reproach,
for their effeminacy