American fiction -- 19th century; Historical fiction; Indians of North America -- Fiction
The time had arrived for the chiefs to proceed in the execution of their
purposes. Peter, profoundly struck with the prayers of the missionary in
behalf of his enemies, had taken a station a little on one side, where
he stood ruminating on what he had just heard. If ever precept bore the
stamp of a divine origin, it is this. The more we reflect on it, the
clearer do our perceptions of this truth become. The whole scheme of
Christ's redemption and future existence is founded in love, and such a
system would be imperfect while any were excluded from its benefits.
To love those who reciprocate our feelings is so very natural, that
the sympathies which engender this feeling are soonest attracted by a
knowledge of their existence, love producing love, as power increases
power. But to love those who hate us, and to strive to do good to those
who are plotting evil against ourselves, greatly exceeds the moral
strength of man, unaided from above. This was the idea that puzzled
Peter, and he now actually interrupted the proceedings, in order
to satisfy his mind on a subject so totally new to him. Previously,
however, to taking this step, he asked the permission of the principal
chiefs, awakening in their bosoms by means of his explanations some of
the interest in this subject that he felt himself.
“Brother medicine-man,” said the mysterious chief, drawing nearer to the
missionary, accompanied himself by Bear's Meat, Crowsfeather, and one or
two more, “you have been talking to the Great Spirit o! the pale-faces.
We have heard your words, and think them well. They are good words for
a man about to set out on the path that leads to the unknown lands.
Thither we must all go some time, and it matters little when. We may not
all travel the same path. I do not think the Manitou will crowd tribes
of different colors together there, as they are getting to be crowded
together here.
“Brother, you are about to learn how all these things really are. If red
men, and pale-faces, and black men are to live in the same land, after
death, you will shortly know it. My brother is about to go there. He and
his friend, this warrior of his people, will travel on that long path in
company. I hope they will agree by the way, and not trouble each other.
It will be convenient to my brother to have a hunter with him; the path
is so long, he will be hungry before he gets to the end. This warrior
knows how to use a musket, and we shall put his arms with him in his
grave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account