The Great
Spirit has given the red man a nose that he might smell--does the
Cloud smell more than common?"
"Sartain--smell whiskey--this Whiskey Centre dey say--nat'ral dat
such smell be here."
"Do all the chiefs and warriors of the Pottawattamies who are
present, also smell the same?"
"S'pose so--why he don't, eh? Got nose--can smell whiskey good way,
tell you."
"It is right they should smell the liquor here, for out of this rock
a whiskey spring will soon begin to run. It will begin with a very
small stream, but soon will there be enough to satisfy everybody.
The Great Manitou knows that his red children are dry; he has sent a
'medicine-man' of the pale-faces to find a spring for them. Now,
look at this piece of rock--it is dry--not even the dew has yet
moistened it. See--it is made like a wooden bowl, that it may hold
the liquor of the spring. Let Crowsfeather smell it--smell it,
Cloud--let all my young men smell it, too, that they may be certain
that there is nothing there."
On this invitation, accompanied as it was by divers flourishes of
the wand, and uttered in a deep, solemn tone of voice, the whole
party of the Indians gathered around the small hollow basin-like
cavity pointed out by the bee-hunter, in order both to see and to
smell.
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