Oowikapun listened to this story of the old man, whose name was Mookoomis, Indianlike, with patience, until he closed; and then in strong language expressed his horror and indignation. It was most unfortunate that he should have heard it in the state of mind that he was in at that time. From his meeting with Memotas and Astumastao he had inferred that all white men were good people, but here was a rude awakening from that illusion. Terrible indeed have been the evils wrought by the white men in these regions where dwell the red men, as well as in other lands. The native prejudices and even their superstitious religions are not as great hindrances to the spread of the Gospel among them as are the abominable actions and rascalities of white men who bring their fire water and their sins from Christian lands. For a time Mookoomis exerted a strong influence over Oowikapun, and many were the hours they spent together. Oowikapun was in such a state of restlessness that the only times he could be said to be at peace were when either engaged in the excitements of hunting, or when listening to Mookoomis's excited words as he talked away, hour after hour, of the old legends and traditions of his people, whose glory, alas! was now departed. One evening, when a few interested listeners were gathered around the wigwam fire of the old story-teller, whom they had made happy by gifts of venison and tobacco, Oowikapun said to him, "Good father, you are wise in many things about which we are ignorant, and long ago the old men of our people handed down to you from our forefathers the stories to be kept in remembrance; tell us how the white men come to be here, and if you know, we should like to hear also of the black people of whom the runners from other tribes have told us, who also exist in great numbers." All joined in this request; and so, when the old man had filled and smoked his calumet again, he told them the Indian tradition of the origin of the human races: "Long ago, perhaps as many moons as there are stars in the sky, the Great Spirit made this world of ours, and fitted it up as a dwelling place for his people. Then he set to work to make man. He took a piece of white clay, and moulded it and worked at it until he had formed a man. Then he put him into an oven which he had prepared, and there he baked him to make him firm and strong. When he took him out of the oven he found that he had kept him in too long, and he was burnt black. At this the Great Spirit was not pleased, and he said, `You will never do;' and he gave him a great kick which sent him away south to that land where they have no snow, and where it is very hot, and told the black man that that was to be his land.