paradise of
the Ojibbeways.

Our track lay, at first, along the "Path of Souls," and the still, grey
air was only disturbed by a faint rustling and twittering of spirits on
the march. We seemed to have journeyed but a short time, when a red
light shone on the left hand of the way. As we drew nearer, this light
appeared to proceed from a prodigious strawberry, a perfect mountain of a
strawberry. Its cool and shining sides seemed very attractive to a
thirsty Soul. A red man, dressed strangely in the feathers of a raven,
stood hard by, and loudly invited all passers-by to partake of this
refreshment. I was about to excavate a portion of the monstrous
strawberry (being partial to that fruit), when my guide held my hand and
whispered in a low voice that they who accepted the invitation of the man
that guarded the strawberry were lost. He added that, into whatever
paradise I might stray, I must beware of tasting any of the food of the
departed. All who yield to the temptation must inevitably remain where
they have put the food of the dead to their lips. "You," said my guide,
with a slight sneer, "seem rather particular about your future home, and
you must be especially careful to make no error." Thus admonished, I
followed my guide to the river which runs between our world and the
paradise of the Ojibbeways. A large stump of a tree lies half across the
stream, the other half must be crossed by the agility of the wayfarer.
Little children do but badly here, and "an Ojibbeway woman," said my
guide, "can never be consoled when her child dies before it is fairly
expert in jumping. Such young children they cannot expect to meet again
in paradise." I made no reply, but was reminded of some good and unhappy
women I had known on earth, who were inconsolable because their babes had
died before being sprinkled with water by a priest. These babes they,
like the Ojibbeway matrons, "could not expect to meet again in paradise."
To a grown-up spirit the jump across the mystic river presented no
difficulty, and I found myself instantly among the wigwams of the
Ojibbeway heaven. It was a remarkably large village, and as far as the
eye could see huts and tents were erected along the river. The sound of
magic songs and of drums filled all the air, and in the fields the
spirits were playing lacrosse. All the people of the village had
deserted their homes and were enjoying themselves at the game. Outside
one hut, however, a perpl