204 OVER ON THE ISLAND

pounds sterling and presented it in trust to the Indians.

Strange tales have been related of this ghostly little island. Tales of a forest princess, named Frances, who reigned over her savage warriors, of scalping parties, of intrigues to drive out the settlers, of strange hunting excursions.

There was one man of nineteenth-century Canada who really understood and appreciated the Micmac Indians—Silas T. Rand. He was the eighth child in a family of twenty-two children. Despite that handi- cap, however, he became a missionary among the Indians. He learned their language and their stories; and what is still more important now, he had them published in book form. He must have had a wonder- ful brain. As he said himself: “Twenty years ago I knew English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, Italian, German, Spanish, Modern Greek, Micmac, Malecite, and Mohawk!” He was a man of remarkable energy and ability. There is also something quite simple and naive about him—especially in the entry of February 15, 1869, in his diary: “I have only six cents. I wish much to obtain some things for my wife. I think I will purchase them.” »

Several comments come to my mind but I refrain.

There was something strangely courteous and delightful about the Indian customs. When a stranger or neighbour came to a Wigwam, he gave the accus- tomed greeting. He entered, paused at the lowest place next the door. The master of the house then said, ” Come up higher. ” Then, when the visitor had seated himself, the head man filled and lighted his pipe, drew a few whiffs, and handed it to the visitor. So it went round the circle. It was the height of