certain; nor did the features of his face resemble those of any
of the surrounding nations, nor were his words, or the tones of his
voice, such as ever had been listened to by Ottawa ears. Indeed there
were evidences that he owed his being to the love of the god of the
lake for one wearing the human form. He was shaped like a man--that
is, he stood upright, and his feet and hands, and legs and arms, were
fashioned like those of an Ottawa, save that the former were flat, and
webbed and clawed like the paws of a white beaver(2). The head, which
was placed upon a pair of shoulders similar to those of a man,
resembled more nearly those heads which the hunter sees looking out of
the cabins of the cunning little people[A] than the heads of men. It
was shaped very nearly like the head of a mountain-rat; the nose was
long, the eyes little and red, the ears short and round, hairy on the
outside, and smooth within. Then to the form the boy added the habits
of the beaver. Every day he would repair to the lake, and sport for
half a sun in its clear, cool bosom. The food he preferred further
indicated from whom he sprung. He would undertake a journey of half a
sun to find a crawfish; he would climb with great labour, and at the
risk of his neck, the tallest poplar of the forest for its juicy buds,
and the slender tree for its frightened and bashful leaves, that
wither and die if one do but so much as touch them. He had much
cunning and subtlety, as well he might have, if the blood of the god
whom Indians adore ran in his veins.

[Footnote A: _Cunning little people_, the common Indian appellation
for those sagacious animals, the beavers.]

This boy, if boy it was, or young beaver, if my brothers think it was
a beaver--let them settle the matter for themselves--grew up with the
form of a man, tall as a man, and with the speech of a man, but
endowed with many of the attributes of a beaver--indeed he bore in
his faculties a greater resemblance to that animal than to man, and
his actions were more nearly patterned after the four-legged animal
than the two-legged. His temper was very mild and good, and his
industry equalled that of the cunning little people from whom he
derived his origin. He was always doing something; night, noon,
morning, wet or dry, he was at work for himself or others. While the
lazy Ottawas were sleeping on the sunny side of their cabins, he was
fetching home wood for the fire, or mending the nets, or weeding the