He has not forgotten
us. He made us with his own hand, and will no more turn us out of
the land than a father will turn his child from the wigwam."
"We hope this is so; but it does not seem thus to out poor weak
eyes, Onoah. We count the pale-faces, and every summer they grow
fast as the grass on the prairies. We can see more when the leaf
falls than when the tree is in bud; and, then, more when the leaf is
in bud than when it falls. A few moons will put a town where the
pine stood, and wigwams drive the wolves from their homes. In a few
years we shall have nothing but dogs to eat, if the pale-face dogs
do not eat us."
"Squaws are impatient, but men know how to wait. This land was given
to the red man by the Great Spirit, as I have often told you, my
children; if he has let in the pale-faces for a few winters, it is
to punish us for having done wrong. Now that we are sorry for what
we have done, he will help us to drive away the strangers, and give
us the woods again to hunt in by ourselves. Have not messengers from
our Great Father in Montreal been among the Pottawattamies to
strengthen their hearts?"
"They are always whispering in the ears of our tribes.
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