The Indian's expectation of attaining and enjoying a future state of
bliss, which shall transcend his mundane experience, is often present
to his mind. I remember once walking with rather measured gait along
one of the roads of the Reserve, bearing about me, it _may_ be,
the idea of supreme reflection, when an Indian stopped me, and asked
(though, as my eyes sought the ground at the time, I cannot conceive how
his attributing to me thoughts of celestial concernment could have been
suggested) if I were thinking of heaven. I should have been pleased to
own to my mind's being occupied at the time with heavenly meditations,
a confession not only worthy, if true, to have been indulged in, but one
having in it possibly force for him, as helping, perhaps, to confirm the
course of his thoughts in the only true and high and ennobling channel,
which his question would suggest as being their frequent, if not their
habitual, direction.

Truth, however, compelled me to admit the subserviency of my mind,
at the moment, to earthly thought.

The pagan Indian celebrates what he calls dances, which frequently,
if liquor can only be had, degenerate into mere drunken orgies. Here
the war-whoop, with its direful music, greets the ear, carrying terror
and dismay to the breasts of the uninitiated; and here the war-dance,
with all the accessories of paint and feathers, gets free indulgence.




HIS MODE OF LIFE.