No trace of a join could be found in this
scabbard, which was of hard wood, and highly polished.
One of my Indian friends found this sword lying upon the bookshelf,
and he hurried to communicate the important discovery to his
companions. Moodie was absent, and they brought it to me to demand
an explanation of the figure that formed the hilt.
I told them that it was a weapon that belonged to a very fierce
people who lived in the east, far over the Great Salt Lake; that
they were not Christians as we were, but said their prayers to
images made of silver, and gold, and ivory, and wood, and that this
was one of them; that before they went into battle they said their
prayers to that hideous thing, which they had made with their own
hands.
The Indians were highly amused by this relation, and passed the
sword from one to the other, exclaiming, "A god! - Owgh! - A god!"
But, in spite of these outward demonstrations of contempt, I was
sorry to perceive that this circumstance gave the weapon a great
value, in their eyes, and they regarded it with a sort of
mysterious awe.