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