In Christendom organs peal out the anthems of Divine love, and well-
dressed worshippers chant in harmonious unison, "Lord, incline our
hearts to keep Thy law." That law says:
"Thou shalt love thy neighbor
as thyself." To the question: "Who is my neighbor?" the Divine voice
answers: "A certain man." May he not be one of these neglected
Indians?
CHAPTER VI.
ARRIVAL AT THE LAKE.
"It sleeps among a hundred hills
Where no man ever trod,
And only Nature's music fills
The silences of God."
After going about two thousand three hundred miles up this serpentine
river, we discovered the entrance to the lake. Many had been the
conjectures and counsels of would-be advisers when we started. Some
said that there was no entrance to the lake from the river; others,
that there was not sufficient depth of water for the steamer to pass
through. On our port bow rose frowning rocks of forbidding aspect.
Drawing nearer, we noticed, with mingled feelings of curiosity and
wonder, that the face of these rocks was rudely carved by unmistakably
Indian art. There were portrayed a rising sun, tigers' feet, birds'
feet, etc. Why were they thus carved? Are those rocks the everlasting
recorders of some old history - some deed of Indian daring in days of
old? What these hieroglyphics signify we may never know; the workman
is gone, and his stone hammer is buried with him. To twentieth century
civilization his carving tells nothing.
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