[1] The snow came down till it covered the rocks like this, and
Heigon grew weaker and feebler until he could walk no further, and lay
down in the snow to die. When he was covered over, and the Great
Spirit was about to take him to himself, another Indian came that way.
He was Heigon's enemy, but he lifted him to his feet and brushed the
snow from his face and limbs and poured his fire-water down his throat.
He dug the snow away until he came to the dry leaves, and then he
kindled a fire to warm Heigon by. He stayed by him all night, and in
the morning Heigon was strong and a man again. When he went away, he
asked the Indian his name. It was Oonomoo, the Huron. He stands by
us, and is now in our power."
The eyes of the Miamis fairly sparkled as they listened to this
narration of their comrade, and they looked upon the far-famed Huron
with feelings only of friendship and admiration. He had been
considered for years as one of the deadliest enemies of the Miamis, and
his capture or death by them would have been an exploit that would have
descended through tradition to the last remnant of their people. Fully
sensible of this, this same Huron had come upon one of their most
distinguished warriors when he was as helpless as an infant, and could
have been scalped by a mere child. But the magnanimous savage had
acted the part of a good Samaritan, feeding and warming him and sending
him on his way in the morning, refreshed and strengthened.
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