“He ran back into the cave and there were the stars shining as brightly as before. Then the truth came to him. The Great Spirit had said that where the stars shone there would the fortune be found. They were not shining outside, there was no fortune 129 there; they were shining in the cave, so the fortune was in the cave. He looked around carefully. On the floor were some pieces of what he thought were stones. But they glittered in a strange way. ‘The stars have come down into the stones!’ said Blue Elk. ‘These Star Stones are the fortune of my people!’ (The Star Stones were silver ore.) And a fortune they proved to be. With them his people were able to buy peace with the surrounding tribes and extend their hunting grounds so that they no longer wanted for food or skins or blankets. And Blue Elk believed firmly to his dying day that the Great Spirit had spoken to him in person during his fast on the mountain.”
“Oh, what a lovely story!” said Gladys. “Thank you very much for telling it. Is it a true story?”
“The Indian who told it to me certainly believed it,” replied Colonel Berry.
“But,” objected the practical Sahwah, “how was it possible for the stars to shine in daylight?”
“Have you ever looked up through a very tall chimney?” asked the colonel. “By looking through a long, dark, narrow shaft it is possible to see the stars in daylight. I myself have seen the Little Dipper at noonday in that manner. You will remember that Blue Elk was in a cave in a hillside. A long, narrow passage through the rocks led to a hole in the roof. Looking through this he saw the Twin 130 Stars, and the supposed miracle was merely a phenomenon of nature. Naturally, when he went outside, he could not see them.”
Colonel Berry told many more tales of the red men, but the story of Blue Elk remained the favorite. That glimpse of a far-away boyhood struck a sympathetic chord that tales of middle-aged wisdom and cunning failed to awaken. The colonel left Ellen’s Isle at noon the next day and the whole camp escorted him as far at St. Pierre in the canoes, like a squadron of battleships accompanying a liner. They parted from him with genuine regret and sang a mighty cheer in his honor as they pushed off on the return trip to Ellen’s Isle.
“Uncle Teddy,” said the Captain, as they sat around the fire at Ellen’s Isle that night, talking over the events of the previous day, “I am going to do the three-day fast like the Indian boys did.”
“Ho-ho-ho!” shouted Slim. “You couldn’t go a day without something to eat.”
“Don’t judge others by yourself,” retorted the Captain. “You couldn’t, I know well enough. But I believe the Indians were right in saying that the mind should conquer the body. I like that idea of going off by yourself and watching for some sign from nature. Being away from people and not hearing them talk gives you a great chance to think out the things that are puzzling you. I am going 131 over on the mainland, in the woods, and keep the fast three days.”