He told them that he had made all races; that the Indian was red because fear never entered his breast; that the heart of the white man was so chilled that the blood was scared from his cheeks; that the Shawnee had been brought from the land of the pale-face, long ago, but had lost his paleness. Then he said:
"Rake the ashes of the sacrificial fire; and when the Star of the Evening rises, put in the body of Mad Buffalo and cover it over with wood; keep the fire burning for two whole moons; bring out the beautiful woman and place her near the ashes. This is the will of the Great Spirit."
The people obeyed these commands, and when the time had been fulfilled, there was a disturbance in the ashes, and a man, tall, strong and perfect, came forth. He walked up to the maiden and looked into her eyes. Chenos gave her to him as a wife; and from them were the Piquas descended.
A Shawnee religious belief, the doctrine of a pre-natal existence, bears some resemblance to that of the Buddhists, and reminds one of the fact that all nations have a common ancestor in the Aryan race. The following incident, related by an Indian agent, proves the implicit faith reposed in this particular belief.
When the United States Government removed the tribe to Kansas, the Pawnees waged incessant war against the new arrivals. Many times, ere the country became their home, had war parties of the Shawnees traversed the rolling prairie, passed out upon the plains, battled with the wild Indians of the West, and returned, sometimes laden with booty, to their reservation east of the Mississippi.
The red man never forgets what he considers an indignity. The spirit of revenge is always an incentive to action; hence, the recent comers were under the necessity of keeping themselves in readiness for an encounter at any moment. Rumors of an attack by the enemy floated into the settlements, and the head chief marshaled out his men to check the advancing warriors. After a ride of one hundred miles to the northwest, the scouts, far to the front, espied in the distance, what appeared to be a great number of small black objects, outlined against the sky. A nearer view disclosed the fact that the Pawnees were approaching. Information was carried to the main body.
Both parties called a halt. Then, the war-chief of the Shawnees, accompanied by an aide, rode forward, signifying that he desired a conference. He was met in the open space between the lines, by an opponent, a fierce-looking Indian, and by his side a brave of unusual size and strength. Contrary to custom, it was agreed, after a parley, that two of the most skillful warriors should meet upon the prairie, in the presence of both sides, and decide the battle by a hand-to-hand conflict.
Returning to their men, the chiefs called for volunteers. A quick response, and the chosen ones rode to the central ground, dismounted, and consigned their ponies to the waiting assistants, to be led back to the lines. There was a moment of hesitation—of suspense to the spectators. The warriors regarded one another with looks of astonishment and recognition. Then La-ma-to-the, the Shawnee, spoke:
"Know you not, Pawnee, that we have met, far back in the past, the past that appears to us now as the distant mountains when wrapped in smoke from heaven's pipe of peace?"
"Yes," replied the other, "I remember the blue sky and the broad prairie, covered with sweet grasses, where the rest of our kind fed quietly, or, scenting danger, galloped wildly from place to place."