taught my white brother to weave beautiful baskets, but denied the
skill to my father's son."

The Indian must have supposed he had seriously offended his new
acquaintance, to induce him thus elaborately to attempt to avert
his suspicions. However that might be, the Solitary resumed the
conversation as though he felt no resentment.

"There is wisdom in thy speech. The Great Spirit loves variety, and it
is he that maketh men to differ. But there was once a time many moons
ago, when thy ancestors builded great houses and dwelt in cities, and
sailed over the seas in winged-canoes."

The Indian cast a quick, sharp glance at the Solitary, as if he wished
to read his very soul. For a moment he looked as though he doubted the
evidence of his senses. But recovering his composure, he said:

"The thoughts of my brother are very high, and his voice like the
sound of a great wind."

"Thou comprehendest me not. Know then, Indian, that innumerable years
ago, there lived far towards the rising sun, twelve tribes, called the
'Children of Israel,' whom the Master of Life greatly loved. And they
had wise and brave Sachems, who led them to battle, and their feet
were red with the blood of their enemies. But they became wicked, and
would not hearken unto the words of the Great Spirit, and He turned
his face away from them. So their enemies came upon them, and
despoiled them, and drove them from the land. Two of the tribes still
linger near the rising sun, but ten wandered far away into distant
countries, and they are thy fathers."