The Falls of the Winniwissi are in the Pipestone Valley. The music of the falling water is like the song of peace. Near the Falls of Winniwissi is a high rock. When the braves come to the Valley of Peace they see a great face in this rock. They see it when far away on the long trail. It is the face of the Great Manitou. It is the face of the Great Spirit. All the tribes believe that the water spirits cut this face on the rock. It is Wahkan. It is sacred. The Dakotas believe that Toonkan, the oldest of all the gods, lives in stone. Stone was made first. Toonkan lived first. He lives in every rock. He loves best the great rocks. They are his home. The Indians worship the face in the rock. It is Toonkan watching them. He will bring them back alive from battle. He will help them in the fight with the bear. The Indians lift their pipes and let the smoke blow toward the Great Stone Face. They sing songs to him; he helps the tribes. There is another Great Spirit who lives in the sun. These two Great Spirits know each other. The Dakota prays to the sun. One of his prayers is this: “Wahkan Ate! onshemada!” (“Sacred Spirit, Father! have mercy on me.”) The Chippewas fear their manitous. They are careful not to offend them; there are many little manitous; there are many manitous that try to do harm. The good manitous are wiser than the bad manitous. The Indian must not forget to pray to the Great Manitou. He must not forget the little manitous. V. HOW TWO SQUAWS SAVED THEIR BAND (Kickapoo) The Indian has a great pride in and love for his band and nation. There is a story of two captive squaws who were promised life and freedom if they would lead their captors to the place where the squaws’ own people were hidden. The squaws told their captors to bring many canoes; then, acting as guides, leaped into the front canoe, calling on their captors to follow them. The long line of boats swept quickly down the stream. Every one was merry but the two squaws; their faces showed the sorrow in their hearts. The river grew narrower, and the current grew swifter. The warriors called to the squaws to know if they were going the right way. “This is the shortest way to our wigwams. Make ready your arrows. You will see the smoke of our campfires. We will lead the band who will kill our braves.” The squaws stood up in their canoe. They threw their paddles far out into the white water of the rapids. They gave the war whoop of their people. The warriors saw the canoe which held the two captive squaws stand still. It was caught for one minute by a rock, then it leaped forward like a great fish and was out of sight. There was no hope for any of the canoes. Down, over the falls they went, one by one. The squaws had led their captors by the shortest way, but it was the way of death to each one.