made men colored them differently," commenced the
subtle Huron. "Some are blacker than the sluggish bear. These He said
would be slaves; and He ordered them to work forever, like the beaver.
You may hear them groan, when the south wind blows, louder than the
lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great salt lake, where the big
canoes come and go with them in droves. Some He made with faces paler
than the ermine of the forests: and these He ordered to be traders; dogs
to their women, and wolves to their slaves. He gave this people the
nature of the pigeon: wings that never tire; young, more plentiful than
the leaves on the trees, and appetites to devour the earth. He gave them
tongues like the false call of the wild-cat; hearts like rabbits; the
cunning of the hog (but none of the fox), and arms longer than the legs
of the moose. With his tongue, he stops the ears of the Indians; his
heart teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles; his cunning
tells him how to get together the goods of the earth; and his arms
inclose the land from the shores of the salt-water to the islands of the
great lake. His gluttony makes him sick. God gave him enough, and yet
he wants all. Such are the pale-faces.

"Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and redder than yonder
sun," continued Magua, pointing impressively upwards to the lurid
luminary, which was struggling through the misty atmosphere of the
horizon; "and these did He fashion to His own mind. He gave them this
island as He had made it, covered with trees, and filled with game. The
wind made their clearings; the sun and rains ripened their fruits; and
the snows came to tell them to be thankful. What need had they of roads
to journey by! They saw through the hills. When the beavers worked, they
lay in the shade, and looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; in
winter, skins kept them warm. If they fought among themselves, it was to
prove that they were men. They were brave; they were just; they were
happy."

Here the speaker paused, and again looked around him, to discover if his
legend had touched the sympathies of his listeners. He met everywhere
with eyes riveted on his own, heads erect, and nostrils expanded, as if
each individual present felt himself able and willing, singly, to
redress the wrongs of his race.

"If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red children," he
continued, in a low, still, melancholy voice, "it was that all animals
might