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Updated: May 4, 2025
He thinks you are a bad lot, because you are pagans; he wonders why it is that you have never turned Christian. Some of the missionaries have told him you pagans are no good, so the great man wants to come and see for himself. He wants to see some of your religious dances the 'Dance of the White Dog, if you will have him; he wants to see if it is really bad." Ten-Canoes laughed.
The kind face of the great bishop was very grave. It pained his gentle old heart to know that this great tribe of Indians were pagans savages, as he thought but when he entered that plain log building that the Onondagas held as their church, he took off his hat with the beautiful reverence all great men pay to other great men's religion, and he stood bareheaded while old Ten-Canoes chanted forth this speech: "Oh, brothers of mine!
The Superintendent of Indian Affairs was taking his periodical drive about the Reserve when he chanced to meet old "Ten-Canoes," We-hro's father. The superintendent was a very important person. He was a great white gentleman, who lived in the city of Brantford, fifteen miles away. He was a kindly, handsome man, who loved and honored every Indian on the Grand River Reserve.
He had a genial smile, a warm hand-shake, so when he stopped his horse and greeted the old pagan, Ten-Canoes smiled too. "Ah, Ten-Canoes!" cried the superintendent, "a great man told me he was coming to see your people a big man, none less than Great Black-Coat, the bishop of the Anglican Church.
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