e killed."

"I must have her," said the Spirit of Evil saucily.

"When your strength grows to be greater than mine, and your eyes see
farther, and your spirit waxes stronger, and your heart fuller of
justice and valour, then you may say _must_. Tell me no more lies, bad
Manitou, lest I punish you. Go back to the nations of the East, and see
you trouble my brave Indians no more."

The cowardly spirit made no answer, but shrunk down to the size he was
of when he first came to our people. Then he began as before to roll
himself up into his own hair, which he soon did, and then rolled away as
he came into the hollow hill. When he was gone, the Great Spirit also
shrunk till he was no larger than a Shawano, and began talking to our
people in a soft and sweet voice:--

"Men of the Shawanos nation, I love you, and have always loved you. I
bade you conquer your enemies, I gave your foes into your hands. I sent
great herds of fat deer, and many bears and mooses, to your
hunting-grounds, and made my suns so shine upon your fields, that your
corn grew up like trees. Who lived so well, who fought so bravely, as
the Shawanos? Whose women bore so many sons as yours? Is not the Suwany
a lovely river? Are not the young sprouts of the oak, and the heart of
the ash which grow upon its banks, the stoutest and the toughest in all
the land for bows? The grass grows high, the water is cold and sweet, is
it not a pleasant land? It is, and the Shawanos have been a favoured,
and a happy people.

"Why did you disturb the sacrifice which the Walkullas were offering to
me at the feast of green corn? Why did you fall upon them when they had
laid down their weapons, and wiped off their paints to dance in my name?
You even slew the priest who offered me the offering. I was angry, and
gave your warriors into the hands of their enemies, only I let the head
warrior escape to tell you the fate of your young men.

"Men of the Shawanos nation! The strange people, who came over the Salt
Lake on the great bird, are your brothers. Though they are white, and
you are red, though their hair is of the colour of the setting sun, and
yours is as black as charred wood, yet you are brothers. I made you all,
and I made you all alike. The Shawanos are red, because fear never
enters their hearts to scare the blood from their cheeks: the heart of
the white man is the heart of a bird; it is chilled with fear, therefore
he is pale. I brought the Shawanos from the land