John Elliot, the great apostle to the Indians, had been preaching on the Trinity, when one of his auditors, after a long and thoughtful pause, thus addressed him: "I believe, Mr. Minister, I understand you. The trinity is just like water and ice and snow. The water is one, the ice another, and the snow is another; and yet they are all one water."
This illustration of the Trinity is fully equal to St. Patrick's use of the Shamrock.
Indians are usually truthful, but some of them learned the art of prevarication from their intercourse with the whites.
A few years before the Revolution, one Tom Hyde, an Indian famous for his cunning, went into a tavern in Brookfield, Massachusetts, and after a little chat told the landlord he had been hunting and had killed a fine fat deer, and if he would give him a quart of rum he would tell him where it was. Mine host, unwilling to let slip so good an opportunity of obtaining venison, immediately struck the bargain and poured the Indian his quart of rum, at the same time asking where the deer was to be found. "Well," says Tom, "do you know where the great meadow is?" "Yes." "Well, do you know the great marked maple tree that stands in it?" "Yes." "Well, there lies the deer." Away posted the landlord with his team in quest of his purchase. He found the meadow and the tree, it is true; but all his searching after the deer was fruitless, and he returned home no heavier than he went, except in mortification and disappointment. Some days after mine host met the Indian, and feeling indignant at the deception practised on him, accused him in no gentle terms of the trick. Tom heard him out—and, with the coolness of a stoic, replied—"Did you not find the meadow I said?" "Yes." "And the tree?" "Yes." "And the deer?" "No." "Very good," continued he, "you found two truths for one lie, which is very well for an Indian."
MOVE FARTHER.
When General Lincoln went to make peace with the Creek Indians, one of the chiefs asked him to sit down on a log; he was then desired to move, and in a few minutes to move still farther; the request was repeated till the General got to the end of the log. The Indian said, "Move farther." To which the General replied, "I can move no farther." "Just so it is with us," said the chief; "you have moved us back to the water, and then ask us to move farther."
Indians are close observers, and reach unerring conclusions with marvelous rapidity. A noise inappreciable to an ordinary ear, a broken twig or leaf or the faintest impression on the grass, the hooting of an owl or the gobbling of a turkey, was sufficient to attract their attention. From these faint indications they are quick to discern the presence of a wild beast or of an enemy.
An Indian, on returning to his wigwam one day, discovered that his venison, which had been hung up to dry, had been stolen. After hastily looking around for "signs," he started in pursuit of the thief. He soon met a party of traders, of whom he inquired whether they had seen a little old white man with a short gun, and followed by a small dog with a bob-tail. They replied in the affirmative, and asked the Indian how he could give such a perfect description of the thief. He answered, "I know he is a little man by his having made a pile of stones in order to reach the venison, from the height I hung it, standing on the ground. I know he is an old man by his short steps, which I have traced over the dead leaves in the woods. I know he is a white man by his turning out his toes when he walks, which an Indian never does. I know his gun was short by the mark which the muzzle made upon the bark of a tree against which it leaned. I know the dog is small by his tracks, and that he had a bob-tail I discovered by the marks of it in the dust, where he was sitting at the time his master took down the meat."
The shrewd Indian now continued the pursuit, and with the help of a white man who loved fair play, actually regained his stolen venison.