Again, a hunter might find that though he had formerly been a good
moose hunter, and had always observed every custom, yet he now utterly
failed to secure a moose at all. He might come upon plenty of tracks,
but the moose would always escape, and prove the efforts of an
experienced moose hunter of no more avail than those of a greenhorn.
In such a case, there was but one thing to do, and that was to secure
the whole skin--head, legs, and all--of a fawn, stuff it into its
natural shape, set it up in the woods, wait till the new moon was in
the first crescent, and then, just after sundown, engage a young girl
to shoot five arrows at it from the regular hunting distance. If she
missed, it was proof that the spirit had rejected the girl, and that
another would have to be secured to do the shooting. If success were
then attained, the hunter might go upon his hunt, well knowing he would
soon be rewarded by bringing down a moose. Of course such ideas seem
strange to us, but, after all, are we in a position to ridicule the
Indians' belief? I think not, if we but recall the weird ideas our
ancestors held.

The Indian, like the white man, has many superstitions, some ugly, and
some beautiful, and of the latter class, I quote one: he believes that
the spirits of still-born children or very young infants take flight,
when they die, and enter the bodies of birds. A delightful
thought--especially for the mother. For as Kingsley says of St.
Francis, "perfectly sure that he himself was a spiritual being, he
thought it at least possible that birds might be spiritual beings
likewise, incarnate like himself in mortal flesh; and saw no
degradation to the dignity of human nature in claiming kindred
lovingly, with creatures so beautiful, so wonderful, who praised God in
the forest, even as angels did in heaven."