and wrestled to retain their forest homes, their game, their gods. The whole civilized
world would have hissed them had they not loved the land and fought fiercely for the soil
where their ancestors were born, and lived and died, and perhaps the ancestor of this
quiet-mannered Indian, who any day you might see in our streets, was once an indomitable
war-stained brave, standing ankle deep in the blood of French and English invaders,
fighting with the desperate savagery, born only of the pre—monition[sz’c] of a lost cause, a
lost land, a lost continent, never to be regained; of a scattered people never again to be a
nation, and then, with the noblest of that military valor, in after years linking his fate with
his own conquerors. And then perhaps the strangest of all things has happened, that to this
very Iroquois who fought and killed your own ancestors, then afterwards fought side by
side with their sons against the colonists, perhaps to this very man who fought so fiercely
for his own country, then with such ardor and valor for the British flag, you owe the
possession of your peacefiil home in Canada to-day[sic].

E. PAULINE JOHNSON.

Word Count:
Total: 1335
Without Titles: 1325