CHAPTER XXIX.
STORY OF THE RED FOX.
The Indians, of whatever tribe, are exceedingly fond of narrating or listening to tales and stories, whether historical or fictitious.

They have their professed storytellers, like the Oriental nations, and these go about, from village to village, collecting an admiring and attentive audience, however oft-told and familiar the matter they recite.
It is in this way that their traditions are preserved and handed down unimpaired from generation to generation.

Their knowledge of the geography of their country is wonderfully exact.

I have seen an Indian sit in his lodge, and draw a map, in the ashes, of the Northwestern States, not of their statistical but their geographical features, lakes, rivers, and mountains, with the greatest accuracy, giving their relative distances, by days' journeys, without hesitation, and even extending his drawings and explanations as far as Kentucky and Tennessee.
Of biography they preserve not only the leading events in the life of the person, but his features, appearance, and bearing, his manners, and whatever little trait or peculiarity characterized him.
The women are more fond of fiction, and some of their stories have a strange mingling of humor and pathos.

I give the two which follow as specimens.