WHEN the Great Spirit brought the red men from the Happy Hunting-Grounds
and left them upon the earth, they were filled with fear lest they could
never make him hear their wants and could not reach his ears when they
desired to tell him of their joys and sorrows. The sachems went before
him and said: "Oh, our Father, how will thy children tell thee of the
deeds they have performed that will please thine ear? How will they ask
thee to their homes to help them drive away the bad spirits; and how
will they invite thee to their feasts and dances? Oh, our Father, thou
canst not at all times be awake and watching thy children, and they will
not know when thou art sleeping. Thy children do not know the trail to
the Happy Hunting-Grounds by which to send their wise men and sachems to
talk with thee, for thou hast covered it with thy hands and thy children
cannot discover it. How will the words of thy children reach thee, oh,
our Father, the Manito; how will what they say come to thine ears?"
Then the Great Spirit created for each one of the red men a second self,
to whom he gave a home in the air. He provided these beings with wings
and swift feet so they could move very rapidly. To them he imparted the
secret of the entrance to his home and made them guides to his children
whom he had called on the long journey so that they should not lose
the paths leading to their future home. Finally, the Great Spirit told
these creatures of the air that they should be message-bearers for his
children, and convey their words exactly as spoken from one point to
another until they reached the ears of his sachems in the big wigwam by
the side of the council-fire that never lost its light. They must be
ready at all times to answer the calls of the red men, so that none of
their words might be lost. Messages to the loved ones who had left the
earth and gone to the Happy Hunting-Grounds must be transmitted with the
same watchful care as were those intended for his ears alone. If any of
his children spoke idle and untruthful words they, too, must be repeated
that their father might know whether they were worthy to be admitted to
the grand council-fire.
When he had finished his instructions, the Great Spirit told the sachems
that he would return to his home and that they could go with his
children to the bank of a beautiful river near which they dwelt, and
there talk to him.
Slowly and with a loud voice, the chief sachem began to speak. From
the opposite bank of the river the waiting message-bearer caught up
the sachem's words as they were spoken and with a strong voice shouted
them to another dweller of the air who crouched in the tree-tops far
down the river, ready and alert to do the Great Spirit's bidding. On
and on, rolling along the ravines and valleys, leaping from hill-top to
mountain-side, and from mountain-side to lake, striding over the forests
at a bound--fainter and yet fainter, until lost in the blue distance of
the plain--the message of thankfulness and love was borne from the lips
of the grateful sachem until it reached the ears of the ever listening
and loving father, and was told to the chiefs who sat in the light of the
council-fire that never grows dim.