“Me can,” said the Indian. “Give me two bottles of rum—only two, and me bring rain enough.”
The overseer cast his eye towards the heavens, but could discern no appearance that foretold rain. To gratify the Indian, he promised to give him the two bottles of rum when Colonel Bird arrived, in case the rain should come speedily and save the crop of tobacco.
Silouee now fell to pow-wowing with all his might, making grimaces, contorting his body, and uttering strange, unintelligible ejaculations.
It was a hot, close day, and it so happened that towards evening, the sky, which had been clear for some weeks, clouded over, and the appearance of the heavens was strongly in favor of rain. Before midnight thunder was heard, and heavy showers of rain watered the colonel’s plantation thoroughly; while it was remarked that the showers were so partial that the neighboring plantations were left almost as dry as they were before. The Indian waited quietly till the rain was over, and then walked away. A few days after, the colonel returned to the plantation, and, when Silouee heard of his arrival, he went immediately to visit him.
“Master Bird,” said he, “me come for my two bottles of rum.”
“Your two bottles of rum,” exclaimed the colonel, pretending not to know any thing of the matter; “pray do I owe you two bottles of rum?”
“You do,” replied the Indian.
“How so?” inquired the colonel.
“Me bring you rain—me save your crop,” said the Indian.
“You bring rain,” said the colonel; “no such thing.”