[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE. _Vol. 3. __Designed & Etched by W. H. Brooks A. R. H. A. _In a moment multitudes of bright beings start up--"He is ours"!!! _page 110. _

_London, Published by Colburn & Bentley--April 1830. _]

TRADITIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS:

 BEING

 A SECOND AND REVISED EDITION OF

 "TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP. "

 BY

 JAMES ATHEARN JONES. 

 IN THREE VOLUMES. 

 VOL. III. 

LONDON:HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1830. F. SHOBERL, JUN. , LONG ACRE. 

CONTENTS

OF

THE THIRD VOLUME. 

 Page The Lake of the White Canoe 1 A Legend of the Bomelmeeks 33 The King of the Elks 47 The Daughters of the Sun 77 The Maiden and the Bird 91 The Island of Eagles 117 Legend of Aton-Larre 145 The Fire-Spirit 167 The Origin of Women 175 The Hill of Fecundity. A Tradition of the Minnatarees 183 TALES OF A WHITE MAN'S GHOST. I. Garanga 191 II. The Warning of Tekarrah 213 III. The Legend of Pomperaug 237 IV. The Son of Annawan 251 V. The Cascade of Melsingah 279 Legend of Coatuit Brook 305 The Spirits of Vapour 313 The Devil of Cape Higgin 321

TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP. 

THE LAKE OF THE WHITE CANOE. 

 Wo! Wo! Wo Wo to the sons of the far-off land, Weak in heart and pale in face, Deer in battle, moose in a race, Panthers wanting claw and tooth Wo to the red man, strong of hand, Steady of purpose, lithe of limb, Calm in the toils of the foe, Knowing nor tears nor ruth Wo to them and him, If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp, Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp, That skirts the Lake of the White Canoe!

 Wo to him and them, If, when the night's dim lamps are veil'd, And the Hunter's Star is hid, And the moon has shut her lid, For their wearied limbs the only birth Be the cold and frosty earth, And their flesh be burnt by the gum exhal'd From the cedar's poisonous stem, And steep'd in the blistering dew Of the barren vine in the birchen copse, Where rear the pines their giant tops Above the Lake of the White Canoe!

 My brother hears--'t is well-- And let him shun the spot, The damp and dismal brake, That skirts the shallow lake, The brown and stagnant pool[A], The dark and miry fen, And let him never at nightfall spread His blanket among the isles that dot The surface of that lake; And let my brother tell The men of his race that the wolf hath fed Ere now on warriors brave and true, In the fearful Lake of the White Canoe. 

 Wo! Wo! Wo! To him that sleeps in those dark fens! The she-wolf will stir the brake, And the copper-snake breathe in his ear, And the bitterns will start by tens, And the slender junipers shake With the weight of the nimble bear, And the pool resound with the cayman's plash, And the owl will hoot in the boughs of the ash, Where he sits so calm and cool; Above his head, the muckawiss[B] Will sing his gloomy song; Frogs will scold in the pool, To see the musk-rat carry along The perch to his hairy brood; And, coil'd at his feet, the horn-snake will hiss, Nor last nor least of the throng, The shades of the youth and maid so true, That haunt the Lake of the White Canoe. 

 And, if he chance to sleep, Still will his _okki_ whisper wo, For hideous forms will rise: The spirits of the swamp Will come from their caverns dark and deep, Where the slimy currents flow, With the serpent and wolf to romp, And to whisper in the sleeper's ear Of wo and danger near; And mist will hide the pale, cold moon, And the stars will seem like the sparkling flies That twinkle in the prairie glades, In my brother's month of June-- Murky shades, dim, dark shades, Shades of the cypress, pine, and yew, In the swamp of the Lake of the White Canoe. 

 Wo! wo! wo! He will hear in the dead of the night-- If the bittern will stay his toot, And the serpent will cease his hiss, And the wolf forget his howl, And the owl forbear his hoot, And the plaintive muckawiss, And his neighbour the frog, will be mute-- A plash like the dip of a water-fowl, In the lake with mist so white; And two forms will float on his troubled view, O'er the brake, with a meteor light, And he'll hear the words of a tender song, Stealing like a spring-wind along The Lake of the White Canoe. 

 That song will be a song of wo, Its burthen will be a gloomy tale; It will cause the rain to flow; It will tell of youthful love, Fond but blighted love; It will tell of father's cruelty; It will cause the rain to flow; It will tell of two lovely flowers That grew in the wilderness; And the mildew that touch'd the leaf; And the canker that struck the bud; And the lightning that wither'd the stem; And 't will speak of the Spirit-dove, That summon'd them away, Deeming them all too good and true, For aught save to paddle a White Canoe

[Footnote A: The water of the little lake (Drummond's Pond), to whichthis tradition relates, is coloured brown by the roots of the juniperand cedar. ]

[Footnote B: Whip-poor-will. ]

With these wild stanzas, preliminary to a tradition current among thetribes of that region, Walk in the Water, a Roanoke chief of greatcelebrity, commenced his tale. Undoubtedly most of the Indians presentwere as well acquainted with the story as the narrator, but thatcircumstance seemed to abate nothing of the interest with which it waslistened to; it certainly did not diminish the attention of theaudience. In this respect, these wild foresters deserve to become apattern for careful imitation. They never interrupt a speaker. Howeverincongruous or ill put together his tale, or insulting the matter ormanner of his speech, or revolting his opinions to their preconceivednotions and prejudices, he is heard patiently until he has said allthat he has to say. And, after he has seated himself, sufficient timeis given him to recollect whether he has left unsaid any thing in hisopinion of importance to the correct interpretation of his views. 

It will be seen from the specimens interspersed through these volumes, that the poetry of the Indians is in general of the warlike, or of thetender and pathetic kind. Their only poetry is found in their songs. They are sung in a kind of measure, always harmonious to an Indianear, and frequently to ours. The music is well adapted to the words. It would be idle to attempt to give an idea of it by means of ourmusical notes, as has been done by other writers; I should probablymeet with the fate of those who have tried in the same manner todescribe the melodies of the ancient Greeks. They sing it in shortlines or sentences, not always the whole at once, but most generallyin detached parts, as time permits, and as the occasion or theirfeelings prompt them. Their accent is very pathetic and melancholy; aby-stander unacquainted with their language would suppose that theywere details of some great affliction: both sexes sing in chorus, first the men and then the women. At times the women join in thegeneral song, or repeat the strain which the men have just finished. It seems like two parties singing in questions and answers, and is, upon the whole, very agreeable and enlivening. After thus singing forabout a quarter of an hour, they conclude each song with a loud yell, not unlike the cat-bird, which closes its pretty song with mewing likea cat. The voices of the women are clear and full, and theirintonations generally correct. 

The Dismal Swamp, which gave rise to this genuine Indian tradition, isone of the gloomiest spots on the face of the earth. It is situated inthe state of Virginia, and covers a very large space. On the southside of this wild and gloomy region the marshy border is thicklyovergrown with immense reeds, and, as far as the eye can take in, waves slowly and heavily one dark green sea. Then, on all the otherskirts of the forest itself, the lofty trees are covered to theirsummits by the yellow jessamine, and other quick-growing creepers, breathing odour, and alive with the chirping of insects and the melodyof birds. In the open and less marshy skirts of the vast forest, gigantic tulip-trees shoot up their massy and regular-built trunks, straight and pillar-like, until they put forth their broad armscovered with the magnificent foliage of their glossy deep greenleaves, interspersed with superb white and yellow tulip-shapedflowers. Under their shade are sheltered, like shrubs, trees whichelsewhere would be the pride of the forest, or the park--the statelygum-tree, and the magnolia, with its broad shining leaves andbeautiful white flowers; whilst at their feet you force your waythrough tangles of the honeysuckle, or thickets of the moisture-lovingbay, rich with its large rose-coloured clusters. But, the moment youpenetrate beyond the sun's cheering influence into the deeper recessesof the swamp itself, how solemn is the change! There, the cypress andthe juniper, rising without a branch to interrupt the regularity oftheir tall trunks for a hundred feet, stand thick and close together, like so many tall columns reared to support the roof of a vast temple. All is silent as the grave. Not an insect buzzes or chirps about you;no cry or song of bird or beast is heard. You seem to have penetratedbeyond the bounds not only of human society and existence but ofanimal life, and to be passing through the still and dark valley ofthe shadow of death. 

As the traveller pushes his doubtful way along, he will come upon somebroad, lake-like sheet of water, still, silent, and sluggish, calmlyreflecting the quiet solemnity of the forest. I say still and silent, but these little lakes are visited at certain seasons of the year bymyriads of wild fowl, the clapping of whose wings, as they rise fromthe water, may be heard to a great distance. The water of all thoselakes is of the same colour as the roots and bark of the juniper andcedar-trees, from which it receives its hue. And, when the sun flasheson the amber-coloured lake, and the cypress forest throws its gloomyshade over its face, the traveller becomes thrilled with awe andastonishment. He fancies that he has never seen any spot so fitted tobe the residence of spirits of a malignant influence, and expects tosee evil eyes cast upon him from every copse. The bird and bat, asthey flit through the shades of night, magnified by the mistyexhalations, seem the envious demons of the spot; and, foolish man! hemore regards the dangers which are unreal than those which arereal--is more afraid of the spirits which cannot harm, than of theravenous beasts and poisonous serpents with which he is environed, andwhose fangs are death in its most hideous shape. 

Having introduced this not altogether gratuitous description of a spotcelebrated in America for its picturesque situation and horrors, Iresume the rhythmical tale of the chief of the Roanokes. 

 It was many seasons ago, How long I cannot tell my brother, That this sad thing befell; The tale was old in the time of my father, To whom it was told by my mother's mother. My brother hears--'tis well-- Nor may he doubt my speech; The red man's mind receives a tale As snow the print of a mocassin; But, when he hath it once, It abides like a footstep chisell'd in rock, The hard and flinty rock. The pale man writes his tales Upon a loose and fluttering leaf, Then gives it to the winds that sweep Over the ocean of the mind; The red man his on the evergreen Of his trusty memory(1). When he from the far-off land would know The tales of his father's day, He unrolls the spirit-skin[A], And utters what it bids: The Indian pours from his memory His song, as a brook its babbling flood From a lofty rock into a dell, In the pleasant summer-moon. -- My brother hears. --

 He hears my words--'tis well-- And let him write them down Upon the spirit-skin, That, when he has cross'd the lake, The Great Salt Lake, The lake, where the gentle spring winds dwell, And the mighty fishes sport, And has called his babes to his knee, And his beauteous dove to his arms, And has smok'd in the calumet With the friends he left behind, And his father, and mother, and kin, Are gather'd around his fire, To learn what red men say, He may the skin unroll, and bid His Okki this tradition read[B]-- The parting words of the Roanoke, And his tale of a lover and maiden true, Who paddle the Lake in a White Canoe. 

 There liv'd upon the Great Arm's brink[C], In that far day, The warlike Roanokes, The masters of the wilds: They warr'd on distant lands, This valiant nation, victors every where; Their shouts rung through the hollow oaks, That beetle over the Spirit Bay[D], Where the red elk comes to drink; The frozen clime of the Hunter's Star Rang shrill with the shout of their bands, And the whistle of their cress[E]; And they fought the distant Cherokee, The Chickasaw, and the Muscogulgee, And the Sioux of the West. They liv'd for nought but war, Though now and then would be caught a view Of a Roanoke in a White Canoe. 

 Among this tribe, this valiant tribe, Of brave and warlike Roanokes, Were two--a youth and maid, Who lov'd each other well, Long and fondly lov'd, Lov'd from the childish hour, When, through the bosky dell, Together they fondly rov'd, In quest of the little flower, That likes to bloom in the quiet shade Of the tall and stately oaks. The pale face calls it the violet-- 'Tis a beautiful child when its leaves are wet With the morning dew, and spread To the beam of the sun, and its little head Sinks low with the weight of the tear That gems its pale blue eye, Causing it to lie Like a maiden whose heart is broke. -- Does my brother hear?

 He hears my words--'tis well-- The names of this fond youth and maid Tell who they were, For he was Annawan, the Brave, And she Pequida, the girl of the braid, The fairest of the fair. Her foot was the foot of the nimble doe, That flies from a cruel carcajou, Deeming speed the means to save; Her eyes were the eyes of the yellow owl, That builds his nest by the River of Fish; Her hair was black as the wings of the fowl[F] That drew this world from the great abyss. Small and plump was her hand; Small and slender her foot; And, when she opened her lips to sing, Ripe red lips, soft sweet lips, Lips like the flower that the honey-bee sips, The birds in the grove were mute, The bittern forgot his toot, And the owl forbore his hoot, And the king-bird set his wing, And the woodpecker ceas'd his tap On the hollow beech, And the son of the loon on the neighbouring strand Gave over his idle screech, And fell to sleep in his mother's lap. 

 And she was good as fair, This maid of the Roanokes; She was mild as a day in spring; Morning, noon, and night, Young Pequida smil'd on all, But most on one. She smil'd more sweet if he were there, And her laugh more joyous rung, And her step had a firmer spring, And her eye had a keener light, And her tongue dealt out blither jokes, And she had more songs to spare, And she better mock'd the blue jay's cry, When his dinner of maize was done; And better far, when he stood in view, Could she paddle the Lake in her White Canoe. 

 And who was he she lov'd? The bravest he of the Roanokes, A leader, before his years Were the years of a full-grown man; A warrior, when his strength Was less than a warrior's need; But, when his limbs were grown, And he stood erect and tall, Who could bend the sprout of the oak Of which his bow was made? Who could poise his choice of spears, To him but a little reed? None in all the land. And who had a soul so warm? Who was so kind a friend(2)? And who so free to lend To the weary stranger bed and bread, Food for his stomach, rest for his head, As Annawan, the Roanoke, The valiant son of the chief Red Oak?

 They liv'd from infancy together; They seem'd two sides of a sparrow's feather; Together they roam'd o'er the rocky hill, And through the woody hollow, And by the river brink, And o'er the winter snows; And they sat for hours by the summer rill, To watch the stag as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow; And when the waters froze, They still had a sport to follow O'er the smooth ice, for, full in view, Lay the glassy Lake of the White Canoe. 

 The youth was the son of a chief, And the maiden a warrior's daughter; Both were approv'd for deeds of blood; Both were fearless, strong, and brave: One was a Roanoke, The other a captive Maqua boy, In battle sav'd from slaughter(3)-- A single ear from a blighted sheaf, Planted in Aragisken land[G]; And these two men were foes. When they to manhood came, And each had skill and strength to bend A bow with a warrior's aim, And to wield the club of massy oak That a warrior-man should wield, And to pride themselves on a blood-red hand, And to deem its cleanness shame, Each claim'd to lead the band, And angry words arose, But the warriors chose Red Oak, Because his sire was a Roanoke. 

 Then fill'd the Maqua's heart with ire, And out he spoke: "Have his deeds equall'd mine? Three are the scalps on his pole[H]-- In my smoke are nine; I have fought with a Cherokee; I have stricken a warrior's blow, Where the waves of Ontario roll; I have borne my lance where he dare not go; I have looked on a stunted pine In the realms of endless frost, And the path of the Knisteneau And the Abenaki crost. While the Red Oak planted the land, It was mine to lead the band. "

 Then fiercely answer'd the rival Brave, And bitter strife arose; Loud and angry words, Noisy boasts and taunts, Menaces and blows, These foolish men each other gave; And each like a panther pants For the blood of his brother chief; Each himself with his war-club girds, And forth he madly goes, His wrath and ire to wreak; But the warriors interpose. Thenceforth they met as two eagles meet, When food but for one lies dead at their feet, And neither dare be the thief: Each is prompt to show his ire; The eye of each is an eye of fire, And trembles each hand to give The last and fatal blow; And thus my brother may see them live With the feelings that wolf-dogs know. 

 And when each of these brave men Had built himself a lodge, And each had a bird in his nest, And each had a babe at his knee, Their hate had no abatement known, Still each was his brother's enemy. And thirsted for his blood. And when those babes had grown, The one to be a man In stature, years, and soul, With a warrior's eye and brow, And his poll a shaven poll[I], And his step as a wild colt's free, And his voice like the winter wind, Or the roaring of the sea; The other a maiden ripe, With a woman's tender heart, Full of soft and gentle wishes, Sighs by day and dreams by night, Their hostile fathers bade them roam Together no more o'er the rocky dell, And through the woody hollow, And by the river brink, And o'er the winter snows, Nor sit for hours by the summer rill, To watch the stag as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow, Nor when the waters froze, Have a pleasant sport to follow, O'er the smooth ice; they bade them shun, Each other as the stars the sun. 

 What did they then--this youth and maid? Did they their fathers mind?-- I will tell my brother. -- They met--in secret met'Twas not in the rocky dell, Nor in the woody hollow, Nor by the river brink, Nor o'er the winter snows, Nor by the summer rill, Watching the stag as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow, That these two lovers met, Nor when the waters froze, Giving good sport to follow: But, when the sky was mild, And the moon's pale light was veil'd, And hushed was every breeze, In prairie, village, and wild, And the bittern had stayed his toot, And the serpent had ceased his hiss, And the wolf forgot his howl, And the owl forbore his hoot, And the plaintive wekolis[J], And his neighbour, the frog, were mute-- Then would my brother have heard A plash like the dip of a water-fowl, In the lake with mist so white, And the smooth wave roll to the bank, And have seen the current stirr'd By something that seemed a White Canoe, Gliding past his troubled view. 

 And thus for moons they met By night on the tranquil lake, When darkness veils the earth; Nought care they for the wolf, That stirs the brake on the bank; Nought that the junipers shake With the weight of the nimble bear, Nor that bitterns start by tens, Nor to hear the cayman's plash, Nor the hoot of the owl in the boughs of the ash, Where he sat so calm and cool: And thus each night they met, And thus a summer pass'd. 

 Autumn came at length, With all its promised joys, Its host of glittering stars, Its fields of yellow corn, Its shrill and healthful winds, Its sports of field and flood. The buck in the grove was sleek and fat, The corn was ripe and tall; Grapes clustered thick on the vines; And the healing winds of the north Had left their cells to breathe On the fever'd cheeks of the Roanokes, And the skies were lit by brighter stars Than light them in the time of summer. Then said the father of the maid, "My daughter, hear-- A bird has whispered in my ear, That, often in the midnight hour, They who walk in the shades, The murky shades, dim, dark shades, Shades of the cypress, pine, and yew, That tower above the glassy lake, Will see glide past their troubled view Two forms as a meteor light, And will note a white canoe, Paddled along by two, And will bear the words of a tender song, Stealing like a spring-wind along; Tell me, my daughter, if either be you?"

 Then down the daughter's cheek Ran drops like the summer rain, And thus she spoke: "Father, I love the valiant Annawan; Too long have we roam'd o'er the rocky dell, And through the woody hollow, And by the river brink, And o'er the winter snows, To tear him from my heart: Too long have we sat by the summer rill, To watch the buck as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow, To live from him apart-- My father hears. "

 "Thou lov'st the son of my foe, And know'st thou not the wrongs That foe hath heap'd on me? The nation made him chief-- Why made they him a chief? Had his deeds equall'd mine? Three were the scalps on his pole, In my smoke were nine: I had fought with a Cherokee; I had struck a warrior's blow, Where the waves of Ontario roll; I had borne my lance where he dare not go; I had look'd on a stunted pine, In the realms of endless frost, And the path of the Knisteneau, And the Abenaki crost; While the Red Oak planted his land, It was mine to lead the band. Since then we never spoke, Unless to utter reproach, And bandy bitter words; We meet as two hungry eagles meet, When a badger lies dead at their feet-- Each would use a spear on his foe, Each an arrow would put to his bow, And bid its goal be his foeman's breast, But the warriors interpose, And delay the vengeance I owe. Thou hear'st my words--'t is well. 

 "Then listen to my words-- The soul of a Maqua never cools; His ire can never be assuag'd, But with the smell of gore I thirst for the Red Oak's blood; I live but for revenge; Thou shalt not wed his son; Choose thee a mate elsewhere, And see that ye roam no more By night o'er the rocky dell, And through the woody hollow, But when the sun its eye-lids closes, See that thine own the example follow. "

 And the father of the youth Spake thus unto his son: "A bird has whispered in my ear, That when the stars have gone to rest, And the moon her eye-lids hath clos'd, Who walk beside the lake Will see glide past their troubled view Two forms as a meteor light, And will note a white canoe Paddled along by two, And will hear the words of a tender song. Stealing like a spring wind along. Tell me, my son, if either be you?"

 Then answer'd the valiant son, "Mine is a warrior's soul, And mine is an arm of strength; I scorn to tell a lie; The bird has told thee true. And, father, hear my words: I now have come to man's estate; Who can bend the sprout of the oak, Of which my bow is made? Who can poise my choice of spears, To me but a slender reed? I fain would build myself a lodge, And take to that lodge a wife: And, father, hear thy son-- I love the Red Oak's daughter. "

 "Thou lov'st the daughter of my foe; And know'st thou not the taunts His tongue hath heap'd on me: The nation made me chief, And thence his ire arose; Thence came foul wrongs and blows, And neither yet aveng'd. He boasted that his fame exceeded mine: Three, he said, were the scalps on my pole, While in his lodge were nine-- He did not tell how many I _struck_, Nor spoke of my constancy, When the Nansemonds tore my flesh, With burning pincers tore; And he said he had fought with a Cherokee, And had struck a warrior's blow, Where the waves of Ontario roll, And had borne his lance where I dare not go, And had look'd on a stunted pine, In the realms of endless frost; And the path of the Knisteneau And the Abenaki crost: While--bitter taunt!--cruel taunt! And for it I'll drink his blood, And eat him broil'd in fire-- The Red Oak planted his land, It was his to lead the band. 

 "And listen further to my words-- My wrath can never be assuag'd; Thou shalt not wed his daughter, Choose thee a wife elsewhere; Choose thee one any where, Save in the Maqua's lodge. The Nansemonds have maidens fair, With bright black eyes, and long black locks, And voice like the music of rills; The Chippewa girls of the frosty north Have feet like the nimble antelopes' That bound on their native hills; And their voice is like the dove's in spring-- Take one of those doves to thy cage; But see no more, by day or night, The Maqua warrior's daughter. " And haughtily he turn'd away. 

 Night was abroad on the earth; Mists were over the face of the moon, And the stars were like the sparkling flies That twinkle in the prairie glades, In my brother's month of June: And hideous forms had risen; The spirits of the swamp Had come from their caverns dark and deep, Where the slimy currents flow, With the serpent and wolf to romp, And to whisper in the sleeper's ear Of death and danger near. 

 Then to the margin of the lake A beauteous maiden came; Tall she was as a youthful fir, Upon the river's bank; Her step was the step of the antelope; Her eye was the eye of the doe; Her hair was black as a coal-black horse; Her hand was plump and small; Her foot was slender and small; And her voice was the voice of a rill in the moon, Of the rill's most gentle song. Beautiful lips had she, Ripe red lips, Lips like the flower that the honey-bee sips, When its head is bow'd by dew. 

 She stood beneath the shade Of the dark and lofty trees, That threw their image on the lake, And waited long in silence there. "Why comes he not, my Annawan, My lover, brave and true? He knows his maiden waits for him Beneath the shade of the yew, To paddle the lake in her White Canoe. " But Annawan came not: "He has miss'd me sure, " the maiden said, "And skims the lake alone; Dark though it be, and the winds are high, I'll seek my warrior there. " Then lightly to her white canoe The fair Pequida sprung, And is gone from the shore alone. 

 Loud blew the mighty winds, The clouds were dense and black, Thunders rolled among the hills, Lightnings flash'd through the shades; The spirits cried aloud Their melancholy cries, Cries which assail the listening ear When danger and death are near: Who is he that stands on the shore, Uttering sounds of grief? 'Tis Annawan, the favour'd youth, Detain'd so long lest envious eyes Should know wherefore at midnight hour He seeks the lake alone. He finds the maiden gone, And anguish fills his soul, And yet, perchance in childish sport, She hides among the groves. Loudly he calls, "My maiden fair, Thy Annawan is here! Where art thou, maid with the coal-black hair? What does thy bosom fear? If thou hast hid in playful mood In the shade of the pine, or the cypress wood, If the little heart that so gently heaves Is lightly pressing a bed of leaves; Tell me, maiden, by thy voice Bid thy lover's heart rejoice; Ope on him thy starry eyes; Let him clasp thee in his arms, Press thy ripe, red lips to his. Come, my fair Pequida, come!"

 No answer meets the warrior's ears, But glimmering o'er the lake appears A solitary, twinkling light-- It seems a fire-fly lamp; It moves, with motion quick and strange, Over the broad lake's breast. The lover sprung to his light canoe, And swiftly followed the meteor spark, But the winds were high, and the clouds were dark, He could not find the maid, Nor near the glittering lamp. 

 He went to his father's lodge, And laid him on the earth, Calmly laid him down. Words he spoke to none, Looks bestow'd on none. They brought him food--he would not eat-- They brought him drink--he would not drink-- They brought him a spear and a bow, And a club, and an arrowy sheaf, And shouted the cry of war, And prais'd him, and nam'd him a Chief, And told how the treacherous Nanticokes Had slain three Braves of the Roanokes; That a man of the tribe who never ran Had vow'd to war on the Red Oak's son-- But he show'd no signs of wrath; His thoughts were abroad in another path. 

 Sudden he sprung to his feet, Like an arrow impell'd by a vigorous arm. "You have dug her grave, " said he, "In a spot too cold and damp, All too cold and damp, For a soul so warm and true. Where, think ye, her soul has gone? Gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, Where all night long by a fire-fly lamp She paddles her White Canoe. And thither I will go!" And with that he took his quiver and bow, And bade them all adieu. 

 And the youth returned no more; And the maiden returned no more; Alive none saw them more; But oft their spirits are seen By him who sleeps in that swamp. When the night's dim lamps are veil'd, And the Hunter's Star is hid, And the moon has shut her lid, And the she-wolf stirs the brake, And the bitterns start by tens, And the slender junipers shake With the weight of the nimble bear, And the pool resounds with the cayman's plash, And the owl sings out of the boughs of the ash, Where he sits so calm and cool, And above his head the muckawiss Sings his gloomy song, And croak the frogs in the pool, And he hears at his feet the horn-snake's hiss; Then often flit along The shades of the youth and maid so true, That haunt the Lake of the White Canoe. 

[Footnote A: The Indians could never be brought to believe that paperwas any other than a tanned skin invested with the powers of aspirit. ]

[Footnote B: See note, vol. I. Page 195. ]

[Footnote C: Chesapeak bay. ]

[Footnote D: Bay of Saganaum, in Lake Huron. ]

[Footnote E: Cress or _crease_, a poisoned arrow, seldom used, however, by the tribes east of the Rocky Mountains. ]

[Footnote F: Bird of Ages--See the Tradition vol. Ii. Page 35. ]

[Footnote G: Virginia. ]

[Footnote H: Scalps are suspended from a pole in the lodge, andusually in the smoke. ]

[Footnote I: Alluding to the custom of the Indian of shaving off allthe hair except the scalp-lock. ]

[Footnote J: _Wekolis_--another name for the whip-poor-will. ]

NOTES. 

(1) _Trusty memory. _--p. 9. 

The memory of the Indians is as astonishing as their native sagacityand penetration. They are entirely destitute of those helps which wehave invented to ease our memory, or supply the want of it; yet theyare never at a loss to recall to their minds any particularcircumstance with which they would impress their hearers. On someoccasions, they do indeed make use of little sticks to remind them ofthe different subjects they have to discuss; and with ease they form akind of local memory, and that so sure and infallible, that they willspeak for a great length of time--sometimes for three or four hourstogether--and display twenty different presents, each of whichrequires an entire discourse, without forgetting any thing, and evenwithout hesitation. 

(2) _Kind Friendship. _--p. 14. 

Every Indian has a friend nearly of the same age as himself, to whomhe attaches himself by the most indissoluble bonds. Two persons, thusunited by one common interest, are capable of undertaking andhazarding every thing in order to aid and mutually succour each other;death itself, according to their belief, can only separate them for atime: they are well assured of meeting again in the other world neverto part, where they are persuaded they shall have occasion for thesame services from one another. Charlevoix tells of an Indian who wasa christian, but who did not live according to the maxims of thegospel, and who, being threatened with hell by a Jesuit, asked thismissionary whether he thought his friend who was lately departed hadgone into that place of torment; the father answered him that he hadgood grounds to think that the Lord had had mercy upon him, and takenhim to heaven. "Then, I won't go to hell, neither?" replied theIndian, and this motive brought him to do every thing that was desiredof him; that is to say he would have been full as willing to go tohell as heaven, had he thought to find his companion there. 

It is said that these friends, when they happen to be at a distancefrom each other, reciprocally invoke one another in all dangers. Theassistance they promise each other may be surely depended upon. 

(3) _A Maqua saved from slaughter. _--p. 15. 

The following is the practice and ceremony of adoption: A herald issent round the village or camp, to give notice that such as have lostany relations in the late expedition are desired to attend thedistribution which is about to take place. Those women, who have losttheir sons or husbands, are generally satisfied in the first place;afterwards, such as have been deprived of friends of a more remotedegree of consanguinity, or who choose to adopt some of the youth. Thedivision being made, which is done as in other cases without the leastdispute, those who have received any share lead them to their tents orhuts, and, having unbound them, wash and dress their wounds if theyhappen to have received any; they then clothe them, and give them themost comfortable and refreshing food their store will afford. 

Whilst their new domestics are feeding, they endeavour to administerconsolation to them; they tell them they are redeemed from death, theymust now be cheerful and happy; and, if they serve them well withoutmurmuring or repining, nothing shall be wanting to make them suchatonement for the loss of their country and friends as circumstanceswill allow of. 

If any men are spared, they are commonly given to the widows that havelost their husbands by the hands of the enemy, should there be anysuch, to whom, if they happen to prove agreeable, they are soonmarried. The women are usually distributed to the men, from whom theydo not fail of meeting with a favourable reception. The boys and girlsare taken into the families of such as have need of them. The lot oftheir conquerors becomes in all things theirs. 

A LEGEND OF THE BOMELMEEKS. 

Twenty-four men, and twenty-four women, from the twenty-four tribes ofthe wilderness, were met upon the top of the hill Gerundewagh. Therewere none upon the earth but those twenty-four tribes, and none uponthe hill but these twice twenty-four people. They were all friends, and as brothers. There was no strife in the land; no blood deluged thebeautiful vales of the wilderness; no cry of war shook the hills. Bowsand arrows, and spears, were used for the destruction of bears, andwolves, and panthers; and the ochre, which now stains the brow of theIndian with the red hue of war, was used for the ornamenting of pipes. There was but one language upon the earth--all the tribes understoodeach other. If a Bomelmeek said to an Algonquin, "Give me meat ordrink, " he brought him meat or drink--if he said, "Smoke in my pipe, "he smoked in the proffered pledge of peace, or he refused. If anIroquois youth said to a girl of the Red Hurons, "Give me thy heart, and become the star of my cabin, " she gave him her heart, and becamethe star of his cabin, or she bade him think of her no more. It wasnot then as it is now, that men fell out, and came to blows, becausethey mistook the words that were spoken. "Yes" was "yes, " and "no" was"no, " with all the tribes of the land, and interpreters were a thingunknown. So these twice twenty-four people from the twenty-four tribesof the earth sat down upon the top of the hill Gerundewagh, and smokedtheir pipes. 

Whilst they were puffing out clouds of smoke, and enjoying greatly thepleasure which an Indian so covets, one of them, whose sight waskeener than the rest, casting his eye far over the western wilderness, cried out, that he saw two somethings whose heads peered far abovethe woods. Very soon the rest of the people assembled at the hillGerundewagh were able to see the same somethings, which resembled muchthe trunks of trees which have been divested of their branches, andlook out in the blush of the morning through the vapours of a dampvalley. What they were no human tongue could tell, but it was seenthat they were approaching the hill Gerundewagh. As the heads camenearer, people were seen flying before them, and the heads followingin quick pursuit. At length the twice twenty-four on the hill wereable to see that the heads belonged to two enormous snakes, which weremoving in devious paths about the land, devouring the inhabitants asfast as they were able to discover and swallow them. Seeing this, andthe danger to which they were exposed of becoming also food for themonsters, they set about fortifying the high hill Gerundewagh, thattheir lives might be safe from the appalling danger, and within theirfortification they collected all sorts of defensive materials. Havingmade themselves tolerably secure, they had leisure to view the war ofextermination, which the snakes waged with the sons of the land whowere not thus protected. 

In the mean time, the snakes, having discovered by their acute powerof smelling distant objects that the hill Gerundewagh contained humanbodies, with whose flesh they were now become much in love, theyimmediately bent their course to it. In coming thither, they werecompelled to cross, or rather to come down the river Mohawk, which, upon their thus getting lengthways of it, diverted from its naturalcourse, overflowed its banks, sweeping away every impediment, andforming those beautiful meadows which have remained ever since coveredwith a robe of green. Having at length reached the hill, around whosebase they threw themselves in many coils, they commenced the work ofdeath by poisoning the air with their pernicious breath. Soon theatmosphere, which before had been pure, was changed in its nature;appearances resembling the motions of the waves of the great lakeSuperior when slightly agitated in the hot mornings of summer wereseen in the horizon, and have never left it. Before, the rainsdescended in soft showers in the pauses of gentle winds, now they fellin torrents, accompanied with howling tempests and cold hurricanes. Lightnings, which before only played across the horizon, as the redlight of autumn evenings streaks the northern sky, now rent asunderthe flinty rock, and rived the knotty oak. Men, who had before diedonly of old age, now poisoned by the breath of the monsters, fell sickin the morning of life, with the brightness of youthful hope in theireye, and the down of unripe years on their cheek. The hair now oftengrew grey ere the knee became feeble; the teeth rotted out while therewas enough to put between them; the eye often failed to see thebeautiful objects, and the ear to drink in the soft sounds, which theGreat Master of all created for the food of each. The heart now grewsometimes to be trembling and irresolute, and the soul to have itsvisions of infelicity. But I speak of after-time; first let me talk ofthat which is first. 

The twice twenty-four, who were of a very bold and courageous nature, and feared nothing more than to be thought cowards, attacked theserpents with their bows and arrows. It was fruitless, however, towage war with creatures covered with an impenetrable coat of scales. The serpents were not even startled by the arrows, so that no resourcebut death remained to the twice twenty-four. Their food being soongone, they were compelled to venture out in quest of the means ofsustaining life. As fast as they came out at the gate of thefortification, the one or other of the monsters snapped them up at amouthful, until there remained of all those who occupied it at firstbut ten women and eleven men. What was to be done? I could not havetold had I been there, but the eleventh man had the art and cunning todeliver the land from the assaults of the venomous serpents. He saidto his brothers, "One of the serpents is a woman. I know it by hereyes, which are very bright, and beguiling, and roving, andtreacherous. I know it by her sputtering, if all does not go right, and her frequent viewing herself in the waters of Lake Canandaigua, and the noisy chatter she is continually making about nothing. Theseare signs which cannot be misunderstood; she is a woman, I know. Now, if I can but catch the _old man_, asleep, I will make love to her, and it shall go hard but I will get her to assist in his destruction. "So the Eleventh Man--who was a curious creature for making love towomen, and knew all the arts necessary to be used, and all thenonsense proper to be uttered, knew when to look, and when to shut hiseyes, when to be passionate, and when to be cold, and all that sort ofthing--set about winning the love of the frail wife of the GreatSnake. Whenever the old man took a nap, which was very often, then ofa certainty would you see the Bomelmeek on the top of thefortification, winking and blinking, ogling and sighing, and doingother fooleries, at the Squaw-Snake. And soon could it be seen thatshe had noticed his declarations of love, and was not disposed to be_very_ cruel or "ridiculous. " Oh, it was a curious sight to see thecourtship, though not more curious than I have seen other courtships. When he winked, she winked; when he ogled her, she ogled him; when hesighed, she--taking care to turn her head the other way, for herbreath was not the myrtle's or the orange blossom's--sighed also, andvery loud. So foolery was exchanged for foolery, and the thing throvewell. Still the Eleventh Man dared not, for some time, venture out ofthe fortification, for he had remarked her taste for human flesh, andher dexterity in snapping off heads, and did not know but her lovefor him might extend to a wish to try the flavour of his meat, andthat she might, in a moment of soft dalliance, practise on him herskill in unjointing necks. Women have been known to inflict a greaterevil than either on the man they have pretended to love. At least, sothe Eleventh Man said, and, as I have before told my brother, he was aknowing man in these matters. It soon became plain that something mustbe done. There was no food remaining in the fort, and the speedy deathof all must ensue, unless it were procured. The Eleventh Man, who wasas courageous in war as he was in peace, with the high-mindednesswhich belongs to an Indian(1), said he would go and submit himself tothe good will of the _pretty_ creature. So, taking his spear, and hisbow and arrow, for he knew that women like to be wooed by warriors, and delight in the handsome bearing and gay dress of lovers, and oftendie and perish of a fever for feathers and gewgaws, he chose themoment when the old man was wrapped in a deep sleep, and ventured out. A woman can hear the lightest step of a lover when she is fast asleep, and when the thunder of the western hills would not awake her. And soit was with the Squaw-Snake, who, though very drowsy with watching thestars, and squinting at the moonas folks always do when they are inlove--had no sooner heard the step of her beloved on the green sodthan she advanced to meet him. Now comes the perilous moment!Bomelmeek, beware! She is raising her tail, at whose end is a horriblesting to clasp thee as with a pair of arms. And look, see her jaws, white with foam, and larger than the largest tree of the forest, areextended to kiss thy cheek, or scarcely worse to snap off thy head. Brave man! With what undaunted firmness he suffers himself to be takento her arms--no, not to her arms, but her tail--and how patiently hesuffers his cheeks that have felt the breath of sweet lips to beslabbered by a nasty snake! Oh! if he fall a victim to his love forhis nation, he will deserve to live as long in the remembrance of theBomelmeeks, as their great founder, the Earwig. 

Fond and long continued were the caresses of the Eleventh Man and theSquaw-Snake, and luckily they were not interrupted by the old man, who, unlike many husbands I have known, contrived to sleep just aslong as they wished he should. Before he awaked, it had been agreedbetween them that the death of the old man should be accomplished. Soshe bade him dip in the poison of her sting the points of two arrows, both intended to be put to a good use. He did so, and then retiredwithin the fortification. Drawing his bow to his ear, and pointing anarrow at the head of the aged husband, he let fly with unerring skill. This done, he levelled the other arrow with the same precision at thehead of the faithless wife. Wounded to death by the poisoned darts, the horrid monsters rolled down the hill in great agony, sweepingaway, in their descent, all the trees upon the side to its verybottom, and amidst their contortions disgorging the heads of theIndians they had swallowed. Those heads rolled into Lake Canandaigua, where they were converted into stones, and are to be found there tothis day. The Indian, as seated in his canoe he glides over the lake, frequently sees them lying on its pebbly bottom, and the larger barkof the white man is often dashed to pieces against them. So the elevenmen and the ten women were freed from the serpents. 

But now it was that the strangest circumstance was revealed to thesurvivors. The poison which the serpents had poured on the earth withtheir pernicious breath had so operated that a confusion of tongueshad taken place, and different nations no longer understood eachother. The Iroquois could no longer speak in the dialect of theNatchez; the Bomelmeeks of the land of Frost no longer sung theirwar-songs in the tongue of the Walkullas of the land of Flowers. TheSenecas attempted in vain to make known their wishes to the RedHurons of the Lakes, who were alike puzzled to converse with theNarragansetts of the Land of Fish. A youth of one nation, if he wishedto take a woman of another nation to wife, had now to talk with hiseyes, whereas before he made use of his tongue to tell his lies with. 

So the land was re-peopled from the survivors of the hill Gerundewagh, and the confusion of tongues went on increasing, and has done so tothis day. The Bomelmeeks have faded from the land; the descendants ofthe Eleventh Man, of whom there were very many, alone remaining, oneof whom now tells this story, which is certainly true. 

NOTE. 

(1) _High-mindedness of the Indian. _--p. 39. 

The Indians very frequently evince a pride and greatness of mind whichwould not have disgraced the heroes of ancient Greece and Rome. "Thegreatest part of them, " says Charlevoix, "have truly a nobleness andan equality of soul which we cannot arrive at with all the helps wecan obtain from philosophy and religion. " Always master of themselves, in the most sudden misfortunes, we cannot perceive the leastalteration in their countenances. A prisoner who knows not in what hiscaptivity will end, or which is perhaps still more surprising, who isstill uncertain of his fate, does not lose on this account a quarterof an hour's sleep. Even the first emotions do not find them at fault. The following well attested stories shew their high-mindedness, andone of them their singular chivalry of character. 

A Huron Captain was one day insulted and struck by a young man. Thosewho were present would have punished this audaciousness on the spot. "_Let him alone_, " said the Captain, "_Did you feel the earth tremble?He is sufficiently informed of his folly. _"--_Charlevoix_, ii. 64. 

This passion of the Indians, which I have called _pride_, but whichmight perhaps be better denominated _high-mindedness_, is generallycombined with a great sense of honour, and not seldom produces actionsof the most heroic kind. An Indian of the Lenape nation, who wasconsidered a very dangerous person, and was much dreaded on thataccount, had publicly declared that as soon as another Indian, who wasthen gone to Sandusky, should return from thence, he would certainlykill him. This dangerous Indian called in one day at my house on theMuskingum, to ask me for some tobacco. While this unwelcome guest wassmoking his pipe by my fire, behold! the other Indian whom he hadthreatened to kill, and who at that moment had just arrived, alsoentered the house. I was much frightened, as I feared the bad Indianwould take that opportunity to carry his threat into execution, andthat my house would be made the scene of a horrid murder. I walked tothe door, in order not to witness a crime that I could not prevent, when, to my great astonishment, I heard the Indian whom I thought indanger address the other in these words: "Uncle, you have threatenedto kill me--you have declared that you would do it, the first time weshould meet. Now I am here, and we are together. And I take it forgranted that you are in earnest, and that you are really determined totake my life as you have declared. Am I now to consider you as myavowed enemy, and, in order to secure my own life against yourmurderous designs, to be the first to strike you, and imbrue my handsin your blood? I will not, I cannot do it. Your heart is bad, it istrue, but still you appear to be a generous foe, for you gave menotice of what you intended to do; you have put me on my guard, anddid not attempt to assassinate me by surprise; I therefore will spareyou until you lift up your arm to strike, and then, uncle, it will beseen which of us shall fall. " The murderer was thunderstruck, and, without replying a word, slunk off, and left the house. --_Heckew. _161, 2. 

Mr. Heckewelder relates another instance of Indian heroism andmagnanimity, not below the preceding. In the year 1782, a young whiteprisoner had been sent by the war-chief of the Wyandots of LowerSandusky as a present to another chief, who was called the _Half-King_of Upper Sandusky, for the purpose of being adopted into his family inthe place of one of his sons, who had been killed the preceding year, while at war with the people on the Ohio. The wife of the Half-Kingrefused to receive the prisoner in lieu of her son, and this amountedto a sentence of death. The young man was therefore taken away for thepurpose of being tortured and burnt on the pile. While the dreadfulpreparations were making near the village, the unhappy victim beingalready tied to the stake, and the Indians arriving from all quartersto join in the cruel act, or to witness it, two English traders, Messrs. Arundel and Robbins, shocked at the idea of the crueltieswhich were about to be perpetrated, and moved by feelings of pity andhumanity, resolved to unite their exertions to endeavour to save theprisoner's life, by offering a ransom to the war-chief, which he, however, refused, because he said it was an established rule amongthem, that when a prisoner, who had been given as a present, wasrefused adoption, he was irrevocably doomed to the stake, and it wasnot in the power of any one to save his life. The two generousEnglishmen, however, were not discouraged, and determined to try alast effort. They well knew what effects the high-minded pride of anIndian is capable of producing, and, to this strong and noble passionthey directed their attacks. "But, " said they in reply to the answerwhich the chief had made them, "among all those chiefs whom you havementioned, there is none who equals you in greatness; you areconsidered not only as the greatest and bravest, but as the best manin the nation. " "Do you really believe as you say?" said the Indian, looking them full in the face. "Indeed we do. " Then, without sayinganother word, he blackened himself, and, taking his knife and tomahawkin his hand, made his way through the crowd to the unhappy victim, crying out with a loud voice, "What have you to do with my prisoner?"and at once cutting the cords with which he was tied, took him to hishouse. --_Heckew. _ 162, 3. 

Nutall, in his Travels through the Arkansa territory, says, among themost extraordinary actions which they (the Arkansas) performed againstthe Chickasaws is the story which has been related to me by MajorLewismore Vaugin, one of the most respectable residents in thisterritory. The Chickasaws, instead of standing their ground againstthe Quapaws (a band of Arkansaws) were retreating before the Quapaws, whom they had descried at a distance, in consequence of the want ofammunition. The latter, understanding the occasion, were determined toobviate the excuse, whether real or pretended, and desired theChickasaws to land on an adjoining sand-beach of the Mississippi, giving them the unexpected promise of supplying them with powder forthe contest. The chief of the Quapaws then ordered all his men toempty their powder-horns into a blanket, after which he divided thewhole with a spoon, and gave the half to the Chickasaws. They thenproceeded to the combat, which terminated in the killing of tenChickasaws, and the loss of five prisoners, with the death of a singleQuapaw. --_Page 85. _

THE KING OF THE ELKS. 

When the Great Beaver, the spirit who next to Michabou had thegreatest share in the creation and government of men and things, madethe animals, he endowed certain of them with wisdom, and all with thepowers of speech. The black bear could then converse with the cayman, and the whispers of the porpoise in the ears of the walruss and theflounder expressed the thoughts which were passing in his mind. Thewants which the heron and the goosander now express by nods and winks, were then conveyed by plain, straightforward words; and the grunts andsqueaks of the hog, and the bleating of the kid, and the neighing ofthe horse, and the howl of the dog, and the crowing of the cock, andthe cackling of the hen, and the other means by which beasts, andbirds, and other creatures, at this day make known their wants andwishes, were then unknown. If the ox was hungry, or the dog wished tovisit a cousin, he said so, and if the hog wanted his belly scratched, he spoke out like a man. If the cock felt proud, instead of jumpingupon a pole, and flapping his wings, and uttering a senselesscock-a-doodle-doo, as the vain thing does now, he asked the pullet "ifshe did not think he was a handsome fellow, " and she replied _ay_ or_no_, as she thought. The panther told his mother, in plainintelligible words, if he wanted a wife; and when the hen had excludedher egg, instead of cackling, she said, "There!" There was then nodifficulty in understanding the beasts, for they told their wants andwishes in good plain Indian, which was far better than it is now, whenyou are obliged to guess at half they say. And not only could theyconvey their meaning better, but their meaning was worth more when youknew it. In truth the beasts at that time were much wiser and morecunning than men, and where the Indian caught one beaver in his trap, the beaver caught ten Indians in his. In war and peace their schemesand stratagems were better devised, and more successfully executed, and their talks[A] were as full of sweet and wise words as the sky isof wild pigeons in the season of their flight from the rigours ofapproaching winter. What a pity that the folly of the Great Chief ofthe Elks should have lost the beasts the most important facultiesconferred upon them by the Great Hare, and led to the withdrawing ofthe all-glorious gift of speech. 

[Footnote A: _Talk_--oration, also synonimous with "cabinet council, or general meeting, with a view to matters of high importance. "]

There was among the Ottawas, that lived on the banks of the Lake ofthe Great Beaver(1), a young man whose origin none knew withcertainty, but who was supposed by all to be a son of the god. Sixteensnows before the time of which I am speaking, there was found in thegreat village of our people, upon the morning of a warm day in theFrog-Moon, a little boy who might have seen the flowers bloomtwice--older he could not have been. None knew whence he came, norcould he tell them, or give any information whereby it could beascertained who were his parents, or what the place of his birth, orwhy he was abandoned. He did not belong to the tribe--of that theywere certain; nor did the features of his face resemble those of anyof the surrounding nations, nor were his words, or the tones of hisvoice, such as ever had been listened to by Ottawa ears. Indeed therewere evidences that he owed his being to the love of the god of thelake for one wearing the human form. He was shaped like a man--thatis, he stood upright, and his feet and hands, and legs and arms, werefashioned like those of an Ottawa, save that the former were flat, andwebbed and clawed like the paws of a white beaver(2). The head, whichwas placed upon a pair of shoulders similar to those of a man, resembled more nearly those heads which the hunter sees looking out ofthe cabins of the cunning little people[A] than the heads of men. Itwas shaped very nearly like the head of a mountain-rat; the nose waslong, the eyes little and red, the ears short and round, hairy on theoutside, and smooth within. Then to the form the boy added the habitsof the beaver. Every day he would repair to the lake, and sport forhalf a sun in its clear, cool bosom. The food he preferred furtherindicated from whom he sprung. He would undertake a journey of half asun to find a crawfish; he would climb with great labour, and at therisk of his neck, the tallest poplar of the forest for its juicy buds, and the slender tree for its frightened and bashful leaves, thatwither and die if one do but so much as touch them. He had muchcunning and subtlety, as well he might have, if the blood of the godwhom Indians adore ran in his veins. 

[Footnote A: _Cunning little people_, the common Indian appellationfor those sagacious animals, the beavers. ]

This boy, if boy it was, or young beaver, if my brothers think it wasa beaver--let them settle the matter for themselves--grew up with theform of a man, tall as a man, and with the speech of a man, butendowed with many of the attributes of a beaver--indeed he bore inhis faculties a greater resemblance to that animal than to man, andhis actions were more nearly patterned after the four-legged animalthan the two-legged. His temper was very mild and good, and hisindustry equalled that of the cunning little people from whom hederived his origin. He was always doing something; night, noon, morning, wet or dry, he was at work for himself or others. While thelazy Ottawas were sleeping on the sunny side of their cabins, he wasfetching home wood for the fire, or mending the nets, or weeding thecorn. And then he was so peaceable that, for the eighteen snows thathe lived in the great village of the Ottawas, none had ever beheld himangry, or seen disquietude in his eye, or heard repining from hislips. He coveted not distinction in war, he never spoke of the fieldof strife, nor sang a war-song, nor fasted to procure bloody dreams, nor shaved his crown to the gallant scalp-lock, nor painted his cheeksand brow with the ochre of wrath, nor taught himself to dance thewar-dance--his actions and pursuits were those of a woman, and histhoughts and wishes all for peace. Among a people so valiant, and sofond of eating their foes[A], as the Ottawas, a disposition so feebleand woman-like as that possessed by the Child of the Hare would havedrawn down great anger and contempt upon its possessor. But, believingthat the youth had their favourite god for his father, they neverreproached him for his cowardice and preference of peace to war, butcontented themselves with saying that "he was a very, very good boy, but he would never become a chief of a people more warlike than thewren or the prairie dog. " The laugh that would follow these speecheshad nothing of ill-nature in it, for all loved the boy, cowardly andugly as he was, and each would have shielded him from harm at the riskof his own life. And thus lived the Child of the Hare till the snowsof the seventeenth winter had melted and gone to the embrace of theGreat Lake. 

[Footnote A: As I have remarked in a note (vol. I, page 305. ) this isa metaphorical expression, signifying nothing more than that they willwage a bloody and destructive war. ]

It was then that the boy, who had become a man in stature, was seen toabsent himself from the village, and to shun the toils which had oncebeen pleasures to him. No one knew whither he went, or for whatpurpose. Usually, at the going down of the sun, he would repair tothe forest, and be absent for the greater portion of the period ofdarkness. Sometimes his journeys were undertaken by daylight. The agedmen asked him whither he went--he made no answer; the young maidens, always famous for coming at the bottom of secrets, and trackingmysteries as one tracks a badger, sought to win the secret, but withno greater success. At last, a cunning old woman found out--what willnot a cunning old woman find out--the secret. 

Upon a large plain, which stretched from very near the great villageof the Ottawas, a full day's journey towards the land of the risingsun, there dwelt a people, with whom the Ottawas had always been atpeace. They were a set of very awkwardly-shaped beings, of a staturenot exceeding the stubborn little beast's which our white brother rodehither, with four legs, and a beard upon the neck as long as that wornby the people one sees at the City of the Rock. Their heads were verylong, their muzzles very thick, their nostrils very wide, and eachwore upon his head, even before he was married, a pair of long andwide-spreading horns. They were covered with long hair, the colour ofwhich was a mixture of light gray, and dark red. Though they wereapparently a very heavy, clumsy, unwieldy people, the Ottawas, whenthey joined them on hunting expeditions, or assisted them in theirwars against their enemies, found it no small labour to keep at theirside, so long and steady was their trot. It was only when there hadbeen a deep snow, which, melting somewhat, and being afterwardsfrozen, would not bear their weight, that our people proved a matchfor them in speed of travelling. For the foot of the strange people, being forked, broke through the crust which the frost had formed onthe surface of the snow, and they went plunging and plunging withlittle progress till their strength was exhausted. 

The Elks--for this was the name of these odd neighbours of theOttawas--were upon the whole a very good-tempered, friendly people. But, when they were once angered, it was a great deal best to keep outof their way till they had cooled--a course one should pursue at alltimes with passionate folks. Whenever an Elk was enraged with anOttawa, the latter hid himself till he had become pleased again. Soupon the whole the two nations rubbed their noses together with moresincerity than any two nations of the wilds. It was not for theinterest of either people to throw down the hatchet; they were ofgreat and frequent service to each other. Whenever an Ottawa woman washard to do with the pains of travail[A], she sent for a wise Old Elk, who speedily delivered her; and, when the Carcajous picked quarrels, as they were always doing with their pacific neighbours, the Ottawasbecame either mediators, or the allies of the Elks. There could be nodoubt that but for our Braves, the Carcajous and the Foxes, who alwaysmake war in company(3), would have destroyed the Elks from the face ofthe Great Island. But the Ottawas joined the weaker party, which madethem more than a match(4) for any thing breathing, as doubtless ourbrother knows. And it is because our people rescued the good Elks fromthe fangs of their cruel and merciless ancestors that the Carcajoushave been, and to this day are, such bitter enemies to our people, andopen their jugulars, and take their scalps whenever they can. 

[Footnote A: The Indians affirm that the Elk has a bone in his heart, which, being reduced to powder, and taken in broth, facilitatesdelivery, and softens the pains of child-bearing. --_Charlevoix. _]

I am not able to tell my brother in what moon it was that a woman ofour nation, determined to learn why the Child of the Hare absentedhimself so frequently from the village, followed him at earlynightfall into the thick and gloomy forest which adjoined the lands ofthe Ottawas. It was a dark, and wild, and thickly wooded, dell, intowhich this fearless woman precipitated herself at early nightfall, butshe had a powerful motive to encounter danger--there was a secret tobe caught, a mystery to be unravelled, and she went with alacrity andpleasure. It is much that a woman will do to come at the bottom of amystery, which has for some time baffled her and put her nose atfault; and many dangers and inconveniences, and much toil and trouble, must that journey promise, whose danger and inconvenience, and toiland trouble, shall deter her from attempting it when its object is thelearning what, in spite of her, has long remained hidden. So thecurious woman followed the Child of the Hare into the deep dell atearly nightfall. 

They travelled onward, he ahead, and she behind, keeping himconstantly in view for a long time, until they came, all at once, justas the sun was rising, to a deep valley surrounded by high hills, through which there was but one path--a beaten and travelledpath--that in which they came. But what most surprised thisadventurous woman was, that though this valley lay but a little boy'sjourney of half a sun from the Ottawa village, and though she had, asshe supposed, visited every part of the contiguous wilderness, she hadnever beheld it till now, nor heard it spoken of by her people. Butthat circumstance did not prevent her from admiring the beautifulspot--it was indeed the most lovely ever beheld by mortal eyes, andwell did it deserve the many fond epithets she heaped upon it. Stretched out as far as the eye could reach, this valley lay green andglossy as a grove of oaks in the Buck-Moon, when their leaves arefully expanded to meet the warm and cheering rays of the great starof day. In the centre of this valley was a small lake fringed withwillows, alders, pemines, and grape-vines. It was not altogether bareof trees, though they were few and scattered as a party of shamefacedwarriors straggling home from a beaten field. Here perhaps stood alofty pine with several little ones around it, resembling a happyfather with his children at his knee partaking of the fruits of hishunt--yonder, a cedar, lone and solitary as a man whose friends haveall been killed by an unskilful _autmoin_(5) in the Fever-Moon. Welldid the woman deem that the cold breath of the boisterous and stormyMatcomek[A] had never reached the spot--it seemed as if it had neverbeen visited by anything more rough than the south wind in the time ofspring. 

[Footnote A: The God of the winter. ]

As this woman, who had followed the child of the Hare into the woodsat early nightfall, stood chewing a piece of the hot root which takesaway the crying sin of barrenness, and renders women fruitful andbeloved[A], there came to her ears a sound as of many angry voicesmingling their accents together. Filled with a womanly curiosity toknow what it was, and anxious to behold the combat which it promised, she stepped quickly over the small hillock which intercepted her viewof a part of the valley. What a scene burst upon her eyes! Upon agrassy knoll, shaded from the beams of the rising sun by the range ofhills I have spoken of, were assembled a greater number of Elks thaneven my brother could count by the aid of his great medicine[B]. Inthe centre of the assembled nation, stood an Elk of wondrous stature, the great chief, or as my brother would call it, the King of theValley. He was so large, that the biggest of his people seemed butmusquitoes by the side of a buffalo. His legs were so long, that thedeepest snow-drift was no impediment to his running his blithest race;and his skin, which was covered with red and grey hair, was proofagainst the utmost fury of the Ottawa bender of the bow. From each ofhis shoulders proceeded an arm, which well supplied the place, andperformed the uses, of the same limb among our people. His eyes wereof the size of the largest bison-hide, and the antlers, which toweredabove his head, resembled an oak which decay has stricken to thedisrobing of its leaves, and the dismantling of its smaller, but notits larger limbs. Not the mighty animal which strode down from themountains of thunder to slaughter the buffaloes of the prairies[C], was at all to be compared with him for size. At least, so said thewoman, who followed the Child of the Hare into the deep dell at earlynightfall. 

[Footnote A: Ginseng, called by the Potowatomies _Abesoatchenza_, which signifies a child. I presume it has acquired its name ratherfrom the figure of its root than from the tradition. They make greatuse of it in medicine. ]

[Footnote B: The implements of writing, especially paper, are esteemedby the Indians as medicines, or spirits, of great power. Books areviewed in the same light. Singing hymns from a book delights themmuch, as they conceive, that the book is a spirit, which teaches thesinger to sing for their diversion. ]

[Footnote C: The Mammoth. See note, vol. Ii, p. 111. ]

"What brought you here?" demanded one of the Elks, a very elderly one, who was named the Broadhorns, of the woman, as she approached theoutside of the circle. "Do you not know that it is death for any oneto come into the camp of the Great Chief of the Elks, unless he issent for? What brought you here?"

"I followed the Child of the Beaver. "

"Oho, and so you have come to the marriage, but you are too late. "

"What marriage?" demanded the woman, straining her eyes still widerthan my pale-faced brother does at this moment. "Who? How? What! Who'sto be married?"

"Oh, you know nothing of the matter I see, " answered the ElkBroadhorns. "Why, the youth, whom the Ottawas call the Child of theHare, but whom the Elks call the Pig-faced Boy of the Ottawas, hasmarried the daughter of a wise old man, who is akin to the Great Elk. "

"Oho, and is that the cause of the hubbub?" demanded the woman. 

"Not altogether, " answered the Broadhorns; "you see gathered togetherbut the usual number that attend the steps of our great chief, runningof his errands, and doing him homage. But, come along, you must go andspread the blanket of friendship before the great man, whom all theElks, no matter where found, as well as the inhabitants of the valley, worship and obey. "

With that, the old Elk, who appeared to be an Elk of authority, spoketo the crowd, commanding them to make way for the woman who had comefrom the camp of their friends, the Ottawas, to visit the Great Chief. Immediately an opening was made in the crowd, through which the womanand her conductor reached the presence of the mighty king of thevalley. Behold her, then, before the being of whom she had heard herpeople talk morning, noon, and night, but whom no Ottawa had everbeheld till now. She was beginning to deprecate his anger at herintrusion on his dominions, when, in a tone intended to be very kind, but which, nevertheless, was louder than the loudest tones of the_manza ouackanche_[A], he spoke, and bade her say, "why she had comeuninvited to the marriage-feast of the Pig-faced boy of the Ottawas. "

[Footnote A: "Iron possessed by an evil spirit;" their name for a gunor rifle. ]

The woman, gathering boldness from the mild and gentle behaviour ofthe questioner, answered, that, for a long time, the young man, whomthe Ottawas called the Child of the Hare, but whom the Elks, itappeared, knew by another name, had wandered at the beginning ofnight, often continuing absent for days together, without their beingable to discover what became of him; and that curiosity had inducedher to follow his footsteps, with the idea of finding out the cause ofhis absence. This was all, and here she was. 

The reason she gave seemed to content the Great Chief, who merelylaughed a little, and said something about "curiosity"--"a womannapping"--"a weazel asleep. " Then, calling to him the old man, who hadassisted her through the crowd, he bade him bring the Pig-face and theLittle Maiden before him. The old man, making a very low bow after thefashion of the white people, which is also the fashion of the bear, andthe "child of the Evil Spirit, " who are both very mannerly--especiallythe last, unless you provoke him, when he is a very naughtyfellow--departed immediately on the mission, leaving the adventurousOttawa woman surrounded by the whole nation of the Elks. Does not mybrother suspect that she began to regret that she followed thePig-face into the glen at early nightfall?

While he was absent, which was not long, the Great Chief amusedhimself with talking to the woman. He asked her a great many questionsabout her people, and praised them much for their singular courage andvalour, and their great sagacity, and their coolness and resolution inbearing the torments inflicted by their enemies. He talked of thewisdom of his own nation, and told her all about the fits they were sosubject to, and how they cured themselves by rubbing their ears withtheir hind feet, till the blood came, and how their hoofs were amedicine to drive away all kinds of falling sickness, except thatoccasioned by drinking the strong water that is made of women'stongues and warriors' hearts[A]. He was going on to relate longstories of the wars of the Elks with their inveterate enemies, theCarcajous, when there arose, upon the outside of the camp, a greatnoise, which prevented his proceeding. The sound was like that of adozen old women, engaged in scolding their husbands for their lack ofgood fortune in the hunt. Soon a space was cleared, and that whichmade the noise appeared in the midst, in the shape of a mighty hare, whose tongue went faster than the wings of a wild duck escaping from afowler. Awe, and fear, and trembling, seized on the Ottawa woman, forshe knew that she stood in the presence of the god of her people, theGreat Michabou. Nor was that awe and fear diminished, when the angrygod spoke in a voice of thunder to the Great Elk, demanding why he hadenticed the son whom he loved into a marriage with the daughter of apaltry Elk. 

[Footnote A: An Ottawa, who was a great drunkard, on being asked byone of the French governors of Canada what he thought the brandy ofwhich he was so fond was made of, replied: "Of women's tongues andwarriors' hearts; for, " said he, "after I have drunk of it, I can talkfor ever, and fight the devil. "]

The Great Chief, notwithstanding his seeming courage, trembled like aleaf, while he answered, that it was not a match of his making. 

"Now you lie, " answered the god. "You know that you have dared to doit, because it was told you by a wise Ottawa priest--no thanks tohim--that from the marriage of the Pig-face with a maiden Elk a beingshould spring, who should destroy his father's father, and make theGreat Chief of the Elks a spirit to rule in his place. "

The Great Elk, caught with a lie in his mouth, continued silent, as awarrior who is stealing on his sleeping foe, while the Great Harecontinued:

"I cannot prevent the marriage, for that is accomplished, and what isdone cannot be undone, even by a god. But I can prevent theconsequences which you hoped would ensue. I can take away from thebeasts, particularly the Elks, the wisdom to devise stratagems toeffect their purpose of usurping my power; and I can take away theirspeech, which will further spoil their sport. "

Turning to the Ottawa woman, he bade her draw a thread from her robeof woven mulberry-bark, which she did, and gave it to him. Then, goingup to the Great Elk, he bade him, in a very angry voice, hold out histongue. The trembling monster obeyed, displaying a tongue which wouldhave furnished the whole tribe of Ottawas with food for a season. Thegod then made, with the sharp point of a thorn, a hole in the underpart of his tongue, half way between the root and the end, and anotherin the skin upon the inner side of his jaw, and passing through theseholes the thread obtained from the Ottawa woman, he tied down thetongue effectually. When he had done this, patting the Ottawa woman onthe shoulder, he bade her run, like a good woman, as she was, to thenearest grove, and fetch him some black mushrooms, some pemineberries, a handful of leaves from the squaw maple[A], and a smallquantity of the flowers of the dog-wood. She did as she was directed, and brought them and laid them at his feet. These he caused to bepounded, beaten together, moistened with the spittle of the Great Elk, and fashioned into many little balls about the bigness of theeye-balls of a humming-bird[B]. When the mass had been all made intoballs, he commanded all to be silent. When the camp had become sohushed, that the chirp of a grasshopper or the hum of a bee might havebeen heard from limit to limit, he cried with a loud voice:--

[Footnote A: The female maple, distinguished from the male by havingits wood paler and more streaked. ]

[Footnote B: Called by the French Canadians, _l'Oiseau Mouche_, or thefly-bird. The name has two derivations; the first, from the smallnessof the animal; the second, from the humming noise it makes with itswings. Its body is not larger than an ordinary May-bug. ]

"Ruling spirits of the beasts, and birds, and fishes, come hither!Presiding Manitous of all, save man, that inhabit the earth, the air, the water, hear and obey the voice of Michabou. "

He had scarcely done speaking, when the air was darkened with wings ofManitous hastening to the spot, and, but that the footsteps of spiritsare lighter than the shade which falls upon the earth at sunset, thevalley had shaken with the weight of the hoofs and feet which pressedit. There were the spirits of all the fish in the waters, and fowlsand birds in the air, and beasts and four-legged or more-leggedcreatures on or in the earth, and some very strange-looking creaturesthere were(6). To each of these spirits, as he presented himself, theGreat Hare gave one of the little round balls, commanding him toswallow it. All obeyed readily, except the Manitou of theMocking-Birds and the Manitou of the strange bird with a hooked nose, which Ononthio's[A] people have taught to cry, "Damn the Indians. " Thelast bit off only a small piece of this ball, and the first, afterchewing his, spat it all out with great disdain. That is the reasonthat these two still retain a portion of their speech--all the othercreatures swallowed their balls, and thenceforth never spoke with thetongues of men. 

[Footnote A: _Great Mountain_, a name given to one of the early Frenchgovernors, and continued to be used generally for the French as longas they held Canada. The story means a parrot probably. ]

The Great Hare, having deprived the beasts of the faculty of speech, and taken from them a principal portion of the wit and wisdom whichthey were about to make such bad use of, turned to the Ottawa woman, and kindly offered her all the little balls that were left. She tookthem, and carefully wrapped them up in a corner of her robe. Beforeshe died, which was not till her years were more than the years of atortoise, she called her eldest daughter to the side of her couch andgave her the balls, telling her to bestow them upon her eldestdaughter, with such directions as would ensure their remaining amongthe Ottawas as long as grass shall grow and water run. They have beenhanded down from daughter to daughter, and son to son, till thepresent time. And that my brother may not think that I have a forkedtongue, but speak the words of truth, I will show him the littleballs. There they are, wrapped up in a piece of the robe which wasworn at the time by the Ottawa woman, to whom they were given by theGreat Hare. 

So saying, the Ottawa story-teller unrolled a piece of dressed deerskin, and took from thence a number of small balls, about the size ofpills sold by apothecaries, which he gave to M. Verdier. 

NOTES. 

(1) _Lake of the Great Beaver. _--p. 49. 

Among the Ottawas, the Great Beaver is, next to Michabou, the chiefdeity. He it was who formed lake Nipissing; and all the rapids orcurrents, which are found in the river Ottawa, are the remains of thecauseway which he built in order to complete his design. They alsoadd, that he died in the same place, and that he is buried under amountain which you perceive on the northern shore of lake Nipissing. It has been observed that this mountain, viewed from one side, naturally enough represents the figure of a beaver, which circumstancehas, no doubt, occasioned all these tales. The Indians, however, stoutly maintain that it was the Great Beaver who gave this form tothe mountain after he had made choice of it for his burial-place, andthey never pass by it without rendering him their homage by offeringhim the smoke of their tobacco. 

(2) _White Beaver. _--p. 49. 

It has been asserted by travellers, that there is a species of thebeaver perfectly white. I doubt the story much. If there were whitebeavers they would be found in the polar regions, yet it is a factthat there they are quite black. Their colour, in temperatecountries, is brown, and it becomes lighter and lighter in proportionas they approach toward the south, yet no where becomes white. 

(3) _Carcajous and Foxes make war in company. _--p. 55. 

The carcajou, or wild cat, is the natural enemy of the elk, which, bythe by, has become almost as rare an animal on the western continentas the mastodon or mammoth. As soon as he comes up with the elk, heleaps upon him, and fastens upon his neck, about which he twists hislong tail, and then cuts his jugular. The elk has no means of shunningthis disaster, but by flying to the water the moment he is seized bythis dangerous enemy. The carcajou, who cannot endure the water, quitshis hold immediately; but, if the water happen to be at too great adistance, he will destroy the elk before he reaches it. As this hunterdoes not possess the faculty of smelling with the greatest acuteness, he carries with him three foxes, which he sends on the discovery. Themoment they have got scent of an elk, two of them place themselves byhis side, and the third takes post behind him. They manage the matterwith so much adroitness, that they compel him to go to the place wherethey have left the carcajou, with whom they afterwards settle aboutdividing the prey. At least so say the Indians. 

(4) _Made them more than a match. _--p. 55. 

The North American Indians are the vainest people living. "As ignorantas a white man, " "as foolish as a white man, " are common expressionswith them. As they only value physical greatness, their low opinion ofus proceeds from their observing how very deficient we are in thequalities which confer that species of superiority. They value, beyond every other acquirement, that of apparent insensibility topain--we start, perhaps cry out, at the twinge of a tooth; in war webecome the dupes of the commonest stratagem, while they can never besurprised. They see that they excel us in hunting--in endurance ofpain--in the power of encountering the fatigues and perils of savagelife--indeed, in every kind of knowledge which is deemed by them ofvalue--by their standard they are our superiors. "You are almost asclever as an Indian, " "You are as stupid as a white man, " are commonexpressions with them. They consider themselves as created for thenoblest of purposes. The Great Spirit made them, that they shouldlive, hunt, and prepare medicines and charms, in which they fancy theyexcel. White men, on the other hand, were doomed to the drudgeries ofmanufacturing cloths, guns, &c. , for the use of the Indians. 

The Five Nations called themselves _Ougwe-hohougwe_, that is, mensurpassing all others. This opinion, which they took care to instilinto their children, gave them that courage which made them soterrible to their neighbours, and, indeed, to distant nations, fortheir hostile incursions extended as far as Florida. 

(5) _Unskilful Autmoin. _--p. 57. 

The Indian physicians possessed great skill as far as simples wereconcerned. But it was their practice to profess to cure diseases, rather by jugglery and witchcraft, than by those means which weresimple and near at hand. Could they be brought to look upon a diseaseas purely natural, which they cannot, and treat it accordingly, theirmateria medica would possess wonderful efficacy in their hands. Thegreat use which they make of their simples is for the cure of wounds, fractures, dislocations, luxations, and ruptures. It is certain thatthey are in possession of secrets and remedies which are admirable. Abroken bone is immediately set, and is perfectly solid in eight days'time. It is related by a traveller, that a French soldier, who was ingarrison in a fort in Acadia, was seized with the epilepsy, and thefits were become almost daily, and extremely violent; an Indian womanthat happened to be present at one of his fits, made him two bolusesof a pulverised root, the name of which she did not disclose, anddesired that one might be given him at his next fit, predictingcertain consequences and his complete cure by the second bolus, whichactually took place, and he ever after enjoyed a perfect state ofhealth. 

In Acadia, the quacks or physicians were called by the name in thetext, _Autmoin_; it was commonly the chief of the village who wasinvested with this dignity. The ceremonies and practices observed bythe Acadian jugglers being common to the "profession" throughout theIndian nations, I shall insert an account of them from Charlevoix. 

When they visited a patient, they first inspected him for aconsiderable time, after which they breathed upon him. If thisproduced nothing, "of certainty, " said they, "the devil is in him; hemust, however, very soon go out of him; but let every one be upon hisguard, as this wicked spirit will, if he can, out of spite, attacksome here present. " They then fell into a kind of rage, were shakenwith agony, shouted aloud, and threatened the pretended demon; theyspoke to him, as if they had seen him with their eyes, made severalpasses at him, as if they would stab him, the whole being onlyintended to conceal their imposture. 

On entering the cabin, they take care to fix into the ground a bit ofwood, to which a cord is made fast. They afterwards present the end ofthe cord to the spectators, inviting them at the same time to draw outthe bit of wood, and as scarce any one ever succeeds in it, they aresure to tell him it is the devil who holds it; afterwards making as ifthey would stab this pretended devil, they loosen, by little andlittle, the piece of wood, by raking up the earth round it, afterwhich they easily draw it up, the crowd shouting the while. To theunder part of this piece of wood was fastened a little bone, or somesuch thing, which was not at first perceived, and the quacks, shewingit to the company, "Behold, " cried they, "the cause of the disease; itwas necessary to kill the devil to get at it. "

This farce lasted three or four hours, after which the physician stoodin need of rest and refreshment. He went away, assuring them that thesick person would infallibly be cured, provided the disease had notalready got the better, that is to say, provided the devil, before hisretreat, had not given him his death-wound. The business was to know, whether he had or not. This the autmoin pretended to discover by hisdreams, but he took care never to speak clearly, till he saw what turnthe disease took. On perceiving it incurable, he went away; every onelikewise, after his example, abandoned the patient. If, after threedays were expired, he were still alive, "The devil, " said he, "willneither allow him to be cured, nor suffer him to die; you must, out ofcharity, put an end to his days. " Immediately the greatest friend ofthe patient brought cold water, and poured it on his face till heexpired. 

In a note, vol. I. , pages 141, 142, there is an account of theceremonies practised by the Delaware jugglers. 

(6) _Spirits of beasts. _--p. 66. 

Every species has its presiding genius, and to these the Indiansfrequently address their prayers. Some of them are held in greatestimation, some are little valued. The genius of the beavers is muchrespected. They were formerly of opinion that beavers were endued withreason, and had a government, laws, and language, of their own; thatthey had officers who assigned to each his task, and placed sentriesto give the alarm at the approach of an enemy, and to punish the lazy. A volume would scarcely afford sufficient space to relate theirtraditions about this animal. 

The bear is also a venerated animal--it is not, however, deemed soauspicious to dream of the bear as of the beaver. Before setting outupon an expedition in search of him, a fast is necessary in order toinduce his guardian genius to discover where the greatest number canbe found. They also, at these fasts, invoke the spirits of the bearsthey have killed in their former huntings. The skins of bears arecommonly worn by the jugglers while performing their feats ofpretended witchcraft, and their teeth, &c. , are held to be powerfulamulets or charms. 

They endeavour, on all occasions, to propitiate the spirits of thebeasts, being persuaded that every species of animals has a geniusthat watches for their preservation. A Frenchman having one day thrownaway a mouse he had just taken, a little girl took it up to eat it;the father of the child, who perceived it, snatched it from her, andfell to caressing the dead animal. The Frenchman asked him the reasonof it. "It is, " answered he, "in order to appease the guardian spiritof the mice, that they may not torment my child after she has eatenit. " After which he restored the animal to the girl, who ate it. 

An Indian came to Mackenzie, requesting him to furnish him with aremedy that might be applied to the joints of his legs and thighs, ofwhich he had, in a great measure, lost the use for five winters. Thisaffliction he attributed to his cruelty about that time, when havingfound a wolf with two whelps, in an old beaver lodge, he set fire toit and consumed them. --_Mackenzie's Journal of a Voyage, &c. _ 4to. London, 1801. 

THE DAUGHTERS OF THE SUN. 

In the southern part of the lands which were once occupied by theCreeks, the Walkullas, and other tribes of Indians, lies the marshOuaquaphenogan. On one side of it is the river Flint; on the other, the Oakmulgee. This marsh is of very great extent, so great that ittakes several moons to travel around it. In the wet season, and whenthe great rains of the southern sky are falling upon the earth, thewhole surface of this marsh appears a vast lake. It is interspersedhere and there with large islands and knolls of rich land, one ofwhich, the largest island, situated in the centre of the lake, thepresent generation of Creeks represent to be a most blissful spot ofearth. They term this little island, also, Ouaquaphenogan, and relatethe following tradition of its discovery, which I will repeat to mybrother. 

Once upon a time, many ages ago, there were four young hunters in thenation of the Creeks, and these four young hunters upon the morning ofa beautiful day in summer took their hunting spears, and their bowsand arrows, and repaired to the forest. The hunting-ground to whichthey directed their steps lay upon the skirt of this marsh. It was thedry season of the year, and the surface of the lake was again a bog ormorass. The four hunters, finding a narrow and crooked path, leadingover the waste from the high grounds above the morass, determined, with a view to ascertain if no kind of game dwelt upon it, to threadthis path for a short distance, but by no means to venture so far asto lose sight of the beacons which should guide their feet back totheir village. They knew that very many hunters had been lost on thismarsh, that there were many who had lived to tell the story of theirbewilderment, and many who, never having returned from the chace, could only be supposed to have been tempted to the fatal morass, andperished in its mazes. Thus, armed with the knowledge of what hadhappened to many, and was supposed to have happened to more, thehunters ventured into the narrow and crooked path, which led to theisland Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake of the same name. 

The four hunters had not walked far, when one of them said to another, "Where are the hills which glitter in the morning sun, behind thecabins of our fathers?" The other answered, "I see them not, nor do Iknow which way they should be sought for. Deep fogs obscure theearth, and hide the sun from our eyes; the signs are wanting whichshould direct our feet in the path of our return; for the moss growsequally on every side of the tree; the waters lie dead, and sleeping, and stagnant, so that no one may gather from their flow a knowledge ofhis path; it is not the hour of the day for the Hunter's Star to shineupon the eyes of our judgment; no wind stirs to inform us whether itcomes from the flowery land of the South, or the cold hills of theNorth--how then can I assist my bewildered brothers, who am myselfbewildered? I see not whence we came, I know not where we are; I onlyknow this--that we have ventured into a narrow and crooked path in theLake Ouaquaphenogan, and are lost, as many of our nation have beenbefore, in the intricate mazes into which it is death to venture. " Soconcluded the young hunter. 

The four bewildered hunters still continued their endeavours toretrace their path, but without success. Still more dark and dismalgrew those mazes--more wet and miry the morass. Night came, but itbrought no stars to enable them to find their road back to theirdwellings, nor south nor north winds were abroad to direct theirsteps--the waters were still stagnant, and still did moss grow uponevery side of the tree. No bird flew by, to direct by the course ofhis flight to his roosting-place, or to the nest of his beloved, onthe dry hills beyond the waste--no plaint of animals, which love notthe water or damp grounds, was heard in the distance. They knew nobetter than a child of the last moon the path which should lead themback to safety. 

While they were wandering about in the mazes of the swamp, one said toanother, "I hear the sound of voices. " Listening, they were soon ableto distinguish the sounds of music and merriment proceeding from aglade at a short distance, in the direction of the little path uponwhich they were entering. Pursuing that path, they soon came to alittle knoll of high and rich land. Nothing could be more beautifulthan the appearance of this little spot. Here and there were clumps oftrees, covered with fruit in every stage of its growth, and blossomsscenting the air with their fragrance. The earth was covered with arobe of flowers; birds were singing on the boughs, and hopping abouton the twigs, filling the air with sweet melody, and little rills wererattling away over the gentle slopes. Upon one side of the knoll lay aclear lake, in which swans, white as the lily, were disportingthemselves, and the red-headed, and the green-winged duck, and manyother beautiful feathered creatures. But the most beautiful objectsremain to be painted. These were four tall and slender maidens, beautiful as the flower-clad trees and blossom-crowned hills of theirown island, and sweet as the breath of a lemon-tree. Their eyes shoneas bright as the beams of the morning sun; bright locks of surpassingbeauty clustered around their lovely brows; and their garments werewoven of many colours as brilliant as the rainbow. Their bosomsswelled like the heavings of the billows on a little lake, when it isbut slightly stirred by the breezes of spring. Their step--what can becompared to it? A bird skimming the fields; a wind slightly stirringthe bushes; an antelope bounding over a mountain crag; a deer a littlealarmed at the whoop of the hunter. Beautiful creatures! The GreatSpirit never formed any thing, not even the trees, nor the flowers ofspring, nor the field of ripe grain, nor the sun of whom those fourmaidens were sisters, so beautiful as they were. 

They came--these four beautiful maidens--to the four bewilderedtravellers, whom they addressed thus, and their voice was sweeter thanthe music of the song-sparrow--"Who are ye?" The hunters replied thatthey were men of the Creek-nation who had ventured into the marshOuaquaphenogan, and were bewildered in its inextricable mazes. Twodays, they said, they had been without food; they were faint andweary, and demanded refreshments, such as they would have given, had ahungry traveller come to their door, and said, "Food I have none, giveme or I faint. " The beautiful maidens replied, that the men of theirnation, having long ages ago been driven with much bloodshed into theinaccessible fastnesses of the island Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake ofthe same name, by the ancestors of the present generation of Creeks, had retained so deeply in their bosoms the memory of their wrongs, that they were sure to inflict upon them most excruciating tortures, and to make them die a death of fire. Such, they said, would be thefate of the four bewildered hunters, should their fathers or brothersdiscover them now. They earnestly besought them to fly; but first, with that tender and compassionate nature which belongs to women whenthey see the other sex in distress, they brought from a little cabinwhich stood near, covered with beautiful vines in blossom, abundanceof provisions, besides oranges, dates, and other fruit, sweet, ripe, and tempting, as their own beautiful selves. These they spread out onthe flowery earth, and invited the four hunters to partake. Placedeach by the maiden of his choice, they fed upon the repast prepared bythe fair hands of the daughters of the sun, the while drinking in thepassion of love from their large and lustrous eyes. Nor was the softlanguage of looks alone the medium of thought; words of the tonguewere interchanged as sweet as those of the eyes. Wrought up at lengthto a phrenzy of passion, and emboldened by the melting glances of thedove-eyed girls, the youthful hunters besought them to bless them withtheir love--to become the wives of their heart. Faint was the shake ofthe head, and scarcely heard the breathing of the "No, " and castmeekly down upon the blue flowers at their feet the soft and tendereyes, which could not have looked up and kept their secret. At length, one of the maidens, the eldest sister--for they were sisters--beganthus:

"Young and amiable strangers, it is proper that we tell you who weare, that you may think whether you will dare the danger, that willattend the union of one of our race with one of yours. We are born ofmothers, and are the children of fathers, who are governed by theinfluences of the sun, even as tides obey the commands of theirmistress the moon, and stars perform their round of service in thesky, at the command of the Master of all. Our disposition--thedisposition of our race--is as variable as that of the winds uponwhich our great father acts. Ye behold him fiery at times--even so arewe--a change comes over him, his beams grow mild and soft, dispensinggenial warmth and gladness; ours, like his, also soften, and, thoughthey cannot possess his power, yet they are fashioned on his pattern, and we in our kind moments bestow all the happiness we can upon thosewe love. At those moments, were it possible to fill all the earth withlove, to make bush, tree, flower, man, beast, bird, utter the languageof the soft passion, and hill, dale, mountain, and valley, echo it, wewould do it. Again do we change; and he that hath noted the quickobscuring of the sun in the Month of Buds, may estimate thevariableness of our temper. Then tears fall from our eyes in torrents, as showers fall from a cloud, and as hastily as a mist is dissipatedby a bright morning beam do smiles re-illumine our countenances, andour faces and hearts become filled with gladness. Tempest and fairweather, darkness and sunshine, are in us strangely blended. There isin our nature a strange jarring of the elements of being. Can ye taketo your bosoms wives, who will afflict you with mutabilities as great, sudden, various, as those of the elements which surround you? Ye arepleased to think us beautiful, and it may be that we are; but rememberthat ye see us in one of our pleased, pleasant, and happy, moments. Wait till an accident or misfortune happens, till want or calamitycome, or contradiction ensue, or some of the crosses which belong tohuman life, as clouds and tempests to the constitution of nature, assail us. But, if you think your love could survive the hurricaneswhich will visit your dwellings when we are stormy; if you can bear tosee the lightnings of our eyes flashing wrath upon you, and our voicesspeaking thunder in your ears--I speak for myself and sisters--takeus, and we will assure you of many moments of bright sunshine, manydays of peace and happiness--uninterrupted sun, and cloudless skies. "The beautiful daughter of the sun, who spoke for herself and hersisters, concluded thus, and the eldest of the four hunters rose, andreplied in these words:

"Beautiful maiden, that speakest for thyself and sisters, do not thinkthat what thou hast said will affright us. I speak for myself andbrothers--we will take you with all your faults, with the chance ofthe hurricanes and stormy weather, linked with the hope of the momentsof bright sunshine and days of peace and happiness. Believe me, dove-eyed maidens, that the women of the lake Ouaquaphenogan, in theisland of the same name, are not alone in their disposition to bestormy at times. It need not be told the men of the Creek nation, that a woman's face, of whatever country, may justly be likened to anApril day, alternately shining and showering, and that her soul islike a morning in the Variable Moon, which one moment may be dressedin a thick mantle of clouds, and the next in a glittering robe ofsolar glory. It need not be told the son of my mother, that a woman'svoice is sometimes the voice of a gentle rill, and at others, that ofa cloud charged with the poison of the heated and rarefied air. Arenot the Creeks men, and shall they be frightened by what is a meremomentary delirium? No. Having looked upon a wintry storm and a summertempest, and seen the bright stars succeeding one, and the warm andcheering sun the other, we can listen with calmness--even withpleasure--to the tempest of a woman's anger, and survey, withouttrembling, or hiding, or running away, the lightnings of her wrath, because we know that after a storm comes a calm. We know that the sunshines most gloriously when his beams are first unveiled by thepassing away of the clouds which have obscured him; we know that awoman's face is most beautiful, when she has wiped the tears of angerfrom her cheek, and dressed it in smiles to win back the love whichher folly has endangered. We will take you, beautiful creatures, subject to the becoming passions of which you speak, filled with allthe beautiful frenzies of woman's temper. We know that all women, whether they dwell among the Creeks, or in the island Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake of the same name, are alike in their dispositions. It hathlong been taught, beautiful creatures, in our nation, and among allnations of which we have heard our fathers speak, that men should takethem wives, but it is only now that we have recalled the maxim to ourminds, it is only now that we acknowledge the wisdom of our teachers. Now, if men chose those only whose tempers never varied, one, two, maybe three, among all the sons of men would take wives; if one soughtfor a maiden with a never clouded brow and soul, it might become thelabour of a whole nation to furnish mocassins for the feet of onetravelling in quest of the bride. Therefore we take you with all yourfaults, believing that you have them but in common with all your sex, and with no greater portion than belongs to others. And we bind onyour fair brows the flowers which betoken affection and constancy, andwe place in your soft and beautiful hands the emblems of the charge weconfide to them when we make you the wives of our bosoms. "

So these four beautiful daughters of the sun became the affiancedbrides of the four bewildered Creek hunters. 

"But, " said the beautiful maidens to their lovers, "we have told youof the ferocity of our fathers and brothers, and of the hatred of ournation towards the descendants of the men who overthrew and massacredour ancestors. We cannot expose you to the danger of their wrath; youmust fly, but whithersoever that be, we will fly with you. " So thefour beautiful daughters of the sun left for ever the islandOuaquaphenogan, and the lake of the same name, and became the wivesand mothers of hunters and warriors. They were at times very stormy intheir tempers, but upon the whole not worse than other women. Theirfaces were at times those of April days, alternately shining andshowery, but there were women in our nation, who were not at all akinto the sun, nor ever saw Ouaquaphenogan, that were as like them as ifthey had been sisters. Their eyes did, indeed, sometimes send outvolleys of lightnings, and their tongues give forth heavy thunders, but neither were louder nor sharper than those of the women, who hadfor ages given the beam of the one and the music of the other to themen of the Creeks. And, if they did at times term their husbands"brutes, " it was no more than other husbands had been called before. And if they did, in the moment of a hurricane, drive their husbandsfrom their fire-sides, they were by no means the first who had doneso. Upon the whole, the four hunters had no particular reason toregret their bewilderment in the marsh Ouaquaphenogan. 

THE MAIDEN AND THE BIRD. 

It cannot be new to my pale-faced brother, for he has been told itoften enough, that, besides the Great Master of Life, the red men ofthe forest worship a great multitude of spirits with whom they believeevery part of the world to be peopled. According to our belief, aManitou dwells upon every hill, and in every valley; in every openglade and dark morass; in the chambers of every cavern, and the heartof every rock; in every fountain, and watery depth, and runningstream. These spirits dislike white men very much, because they arealways intruding upon their quiet, robbing both hill and valley oftheir stately trees, breaking up the bosom of the earth, penetratinginto every dark morass and cavern, and polluting, by some means orother, every fountain, and watery depth, and running stream. Indiansdo not wish to provoke them, and so try to propitiate them by innocentand unbloody offerings. We spread on the mountain tops, or hang on thecliffs, or lay on the shelves of the caves, or drop into the waters, wreaths of flowers, belts of wampum, clusters of the wild grape, shining ears of maize, and other gifts which attach them to us. Whenan Indian child is born, whether it is a man-child or woman-child, aspirit is immediately chosen to protect it, and its future life isexpected to be prosperous or not as the guardian spirit is powerfuland well-disposed to his charge, or weak, and undertakes his task ofprotection with reluctance. 

The Little White Bear of the Iroquois was reposing by night in hiscabin, on the banks of his own pleasant river, in the month of ripeberries, when he beheld, by the light of the moon, a forest-chief inall his pride enter the lodge. The step of the stranger was noiselessas the fall of snow, and of word or sound uttered he none. The chiefof the Tuscaroras arose, and took down his sinewy bow, and drew fromhis quiver a sharp and barbed arrow--the figure faded away like amorning mist before the beams of the sun, and was gone from his eyes. Tetontuaga woke his comrades, who lay scattered about in carelessslumber--nothing had they seen, heard, or dreamed of. He lay downagain, and, drawing his buffalo cloak closely around him, tried toclose his eyes and ears, in oblivion of things, and to rein his fancyto look upon other shapes than those of air. 

No sooner had he composed his limbs, and invoked the beneficent spiritwho presides over sleep to grant him a slumber unvisited by hideousor frowning forms, than the shadowy warrior again arose and stood athis side. The Iroquois had now full opportunity to scan his form andfeatures. Of gigantic frame he seemed, and his dress was of a textureand fashion such as the chief had never seen before--of an age and anation none might guess. He was a half taller than the tallest man ofthe Five Nations, who are reputed the tallest of all the red men ofthe land, and his limbs, arms, legs, hands, feet, were of twice theordinary size of an Iroquois warrior. His coal-black eyes were largerthan the buffalo's, but they were lustreless as those of the dead; histeeth, large and of the colour of bones bleached by the sun and rain, chattered like the teeth of a man overpowered by the cold of theBear-Moon. He wore over his shoulders a long robe of curiously dyed, or painted cloth, fastened at the throat by a piece of shining metal, and a fur cap made of the skin of an animal never seen by theIroquois, above which rose a high plume of feathers of a bird unknownin Indian lands. The mocassins were of one piece, reaching with novisible seam to the knees, and he wore upon his sinewy thighs garmentsshaped like those worn by the white stranger. His language, when hespoke, was a strange and uncouth language, yet it was understood bythe Iroquois warrior, who felt, as he heard the strange sound, itsmeaning seize his brain as a strong man seizes and binds him who isweak and powerless. Wondrous were the things which the fierce phantomrelated to the startled warrior of the Iroquois. He spoke of the warsof the Allegewi, and of the torrents of blood that ran into theMichigan, and the Erie, and the Huron, and the River of theMountains[A], and the Næmesi Sipu, discolouring their once clear, andcresting with red foam, their once calm and peaceful waters. He toldhow the men of the Allegewi were beaten and driven no one but theGreat Being, and the Manitous, and the spirits in the Blessed Shades, knew whither, by the ancestors of the Iroquois, who came from the farnorth, across an arm of the Frozen Sea, encountered the Allegewi, theprimitive inhabitants of the soil, who were entrenched behind thestupendous mounds which still remain, and drove them into perpetualbanishment. He described the pigmy people, and the giant tribes whosegraves and mounds might yet be seen, exciting the wonder of thecurious, and bringing men even from the City of the Rock[B] to viewthem, to open them, and to put down their thoughts about them uponthe fair white skin[C]. A wild and unnatural song of triumph, in atone as hoarse as the croakings of the raven or the bittern, burstfrom his lips, of the valiant exploits of his tribe, his own among thenumber, in times long since--when the oak tree now dying with age wasa little child, and the huge rocks were within the strength of a fullgrown warrior to poise. He spoke of nations whose names till then hadnever reached the ears of the wondering Iroquois, and told of theirloves, and their hatreds, and their forest warfare. 

[Footnote A: The Hudson. ]

[Footnote B: Quebec. ]

[Footnote C: The Indians could not be persuaded at first that paperwas any thing else than tanned leather. ]

Then he changed the theme, and spoke of the land of souls, the brightregion to which the spirits of the good retire when the body is to bechanged to dust. He painted the pleasures which are the portion of itsinhabitants, and told in the ears of the warrior what description ofmen were permitted to be received into it; what were the deeds whichpleased and conciliated the Great Being, and what the crimes whichshut the gates of the Bridge of Souls against the wanderer thither. Hepainted minutely the happy land appointed for the residence of thesouls of the Iroquois--where the brave man's shade still pursues theforest herd, or clasps to his bosom the forms of the sunny-eyedmaidens of his own clime; and the green and happy isles where theHuron lovers reside, and the frozen and verdureless heath appointed tothe cowards of all the earth. When he had exhausted these subjects, herelated to the warrior many traditions of the old time, tales offorest love, and of the valour of the men of ancient days. Hecontinued to visit the lodge of the chief every night for the space ofa moon, entertaining him, with the same fixed and lustreless eye, andin the same hoarse tone, with these old tales. The Little White Bearof the Iroquois locked up those things in the great store-house of hismemory, and each day, when the sun returned to the earth, and with itthe ghost of the ancient man had departed, he related to his wonderingtribe the traditions poured into his ear by the phantom warrior. Andthis was the first. 

 * * * * *

The moon was shining brightly on tree and flower, on glade and river, on land and water; stars were twinkling, and the winds slept in thecaverns of the earth, when a youth and a maiden--he, tall and straightas a forest tree; fierce as a panther to his enemies, but gentle as akid to those he loved; she, little in stature as a sprout of a singleseason, but the mildest and most beautiful of all mortal things--cameout of the forest. The horse upon whose back they had escaped fromtheir enemies lay exhausted at the verge of the wood, and now theystood alone by the river of silver. 

"Here rest thee, my beloved, " said the youth, "we are safe. Our goodsteed has sped like an arrow through the thicket; our pursuers, myrival, thy father, thy brother, and all thy tribe, lie foiled andfainting far behind us. There is no longer footfall or shout in thewind; the voices of angry men, calling the Algonquin by names he neverowned and whose ignominy he may not avenge, have long since expired onour ears like the voice of a dying cloud in the Moon of Thunder. Restthee, my beloved!--as a young bird that is weary of flying reposes onthe bough of a tree till its faintness has passed away, so must thoulie down on the green and verdant bank till thy strength returns. I goto yonder river, to seek a bark to bear us away to the lands of mynation, and to my pleasant cabin by the stream where I first drewbreath. " And he rose to go. 

"Oh leave me not!" cried the maiden, her soft cheek bedewed withtears, and deep sighs proceeding from her oppressed heart. "When thouart away, I tremble with terror. When I see not the light of thineeyes, I am filled with dismay. My mother comes, in her anger, to chideme, and she does not spare; my stern brother storms like the winter'stempest; my sire rages and threatens; and then, like the panther thatsprings across the path of the lone hunter, comes thy hated rival, tooppress me with the tale of his love and the boast of his success. "

"Nay, thou art dreaming, my beloved, " said the young warrior. "Iffancy must sway thee, let thy visions be tinted with the cheerful rayof hope. There is no peril near thee, and soon will I bear mybeautiful bride to the lands of my nation, and to my pleasant cabinbeside the beautiful river where I first drew my breath. "

So saying, he sprung lightly to the shore, and was lost to her sight. At the moment of his disappearance, a cloud passed over the face ofthe bright moon, obscuring her blessed light. The maiden, deeming itan inauspicious omen, sat down upon the green bank, and, leaning herhead upon her hand, suffered the tears to stream through her slenderfingers. But vain was the presage--idle were her fears. The cloud haspassed away from the face of the pale orb, and lo! there is her lover. He comes with a joyous step and a laughing eye, as though he had beensuccessful in his search for the further means of flight. Cheer up, Mekaia[A]; it is indeed thy Moscharr[B]. 

[Footnote A: The star flower. ]

[Footnote B: The mountain plant. ]

"Now haste, my beloved one, " said the Mountain Plant. "I have foundthe object of my search. Here is a canoe, and soon shall it convey myStar-flower over the rapid tide. Soon will my little bark shoot overthe noisy current, and I and my beloved be altogether beyond the powerof our pursuers. "

So saying, he drew the unreluctant maiden swiftly forward. They gainedthe shore, placed themselves in the canoe, and committed it to thecurrent. With her hand clasped in his, her head resting softly uponhis shoulder, while his arm fondly encircled her slender waist, theyglided down the rapid River of the Mountains. No sail was raised tocatch the breeze; no oar was used to impel them through the water;yet, ere the maiden had time to breathe, the light canoe was gliding, rapid as thought, down the mid-waves of the current. Then the maidenspoke. 

"Now say, O Moscharr, whither is it you are guiding the bark? Mark younot, love, how we are gliding down the stream towards the dreadfulOniagarah?"

"Be calm, my Mekaia, " answered the lover, "I am but guiding you toyonder strand, upon which the current sets full and strong. Be calm, my Mekaia, we are safe. "

The maiden held her tongue, for was she not with him she loved? Awaythen, away they went, and still onward, while faster, and fleeter, andmore boisterous, the foaming waters flowed around them, and lessdistant every moment seemed the dreadful cataract. Its roar was likethat of an approaching cloud from which thunders are issuing. Againthe timid maiden addressed her lover:

"Now tell me, O Moscharr, whither is it you are guiding the bark? See, the shore is more distant, and hark! what awful noise is that whichstrikes mine ear from out of the black curtain ahead of us? It cannotbe the thunders, for there is no cloud; it cannot be the voice of theGreat Spirit, for he is the friend of the Ottawa girl. "

"Be calm, my Mekaia, " answered the lover, "there is no danger; it isthy lover that guides the bark, and he will be careful of the flowerof the forest maidens. I see the shore--I see the rock--and whenever Iwill I can guide to either. "

Away then, away goes their light bark, and still they speed onwardwith the swiftness of an arrow from a well drawn bow. The tall darkforests that rose above their starting-place are fast receding fromview, and hark! pealing like the thunders of heaven, the roar of themighty cataract, to come within whose influence is instantdestruction. 

"Now tell me, O Moscharr, what dreadful sound is that which breaks inso loud and angry a tone upon my ear from out of the black curtain?"demanded the maiden. 

"It is the surge breaking on the sandy shore, or the night windsrushing through the forest, " answered he. 

"And tell me what are those lifting their white heads before us, asthe snow, which has fallen in a calm, is swept about by the whirlwindwhich follows it?"

"Billows breaking on the shoals that surround yon little island. "

Away then, away goes their little bark, dashing among the wild waves, like a leaf caught up into air by the summer whirlwind, till all atonce burst upon the horror-stricken maiden, in their most tremendousand appalling aspect, the waters of the far-famed, the wondrousOniagarah. See the white sheet of foam which rises in spray, mockingthe soaring of the bird of morning. "It is only the Great Spirit thatcan save us now!" exclaimed the frantic maiden. "Lo, my Moscharr, wehasten to the land of souls!"

"Not the Great Spirit himself, did he will it, could save us, "answered the lover in a tone which seemed to be that of impiety. "Were he here himself, with all the Manitous of the earth, and theair, and the flood, and the fire, gathered together from mountain, andvalley, and wood, and prairie, he could not save us. Together, Mekaia, we shall sleep in the stormy cataract. "

The maiden heard the dreadful words in silence. But even then sheshowed the depth of her affection. The love of a woman endures throughall changes; she shrinks not at death, so the beloved one be at herside. When the beauteous flower of the forest saw her fateapproaching, and so near, she sank into the arms of her Moscharr, asthough it were pleasanter to die there than elsewhere; and a softsmile, for she smiled even in that dread moment, told that she wasmost happy to die, if she could die on the breast of him she loved. 

But hark, what voice is that calling upon thee, wretched maiden! Didnot he who won thy youthful heart, while yet it was little andfluttering, so pronounce the loved word "Mekaia?" Was not _that_ thetone and accent which oft rang through the hollow beech woods, whentogether ye went to gather the ripened mast, and chanced to separatetill the cry recalled? And look--see, one stands upon the beetlingrock above thee, amidst the crash and thunder of the eddy into whichthou art cast, his arms stretched towards thee, beautiful flower ofthe wilderness, and his look one of unutterable agony and despair. Itis Moscharr, beautiful Mekaia, it is he who sat by thy side in theplayful hours of infancy, and won thy little heart ere it knewwherefore it was beating. With the speed of the blast he has followedthy course down the shore of the cataract, and now he stands upon theedge of the terrible gulf, horror depicted in his countenance, hiseyes cast upward in supplication to the Great Spirit, that thou maystyet be preserved, and agony and doubt written on his face, lest theprayer he breathes may not be heard. And if that be thy lover whocalls franticly upon thee from the beetling rock, who is he that sitsat thy side, wearing the form and semblance of that lover, andspeaking with the soft and kind tones which were ever his whenaddressing the flower of the forest maids? Alas! rose of thewilderness, it is the ruling spirit of the angry flood, the dreadfulMANITOU OF THE CATARACT!

One tearful look the maiden bestows upon her agonised lover, ere thecanoe glides over the precipice, and, swift as rocks hurled by springrains down the side of the mountains, disappears in the horrid chasmbelow. One tearful look, one heart-rending shriek, which rises evenabove the roar of the cataract, as the canoe plunges through thefoam, and she is gone from his eyes, like a feather caught up on thewings of a great wind. 

What beautiful little bird is that which descends from yonsilver-edged cloud, which is floating so high in the heavens that onlythe vulture may venture a flight thither, or the gray eagle sweep toit in his pride? Beautiful creature! beautiful bird(1)! not so largeas the swallow, its neck a bright green, its wings scarlet, mottledwith white, and having a train thrice as long as its body, in whichare blended all the colours that adorn the rainbow. It came to thespot where the lover, unmanned by the dreadful catastrophe, stoodmourning like a mother bereaved of her children, and, thrice circlinghis head, invited his attention by all the means which could be usedby mortals, except that of speech. The lover sees at length thebeautiful creature, and knows _whose_ messenger it is. But why comesthe herald of hope to him in his hour of despair? Can the GreatSpirit, all-powerful as he is, succour him? Can joy be yet in storefor him? It must be so, else why has he sent down his own messengerfrom the sky? That Being is too kind and too good to hold out falsehopes; it is not in his nature to intimate an intention of succouringunless he actually entertains such intention. Be comforted, MountainPlant, thou hast a friend!

And now commenced their toilsome journey down the side of thecataract. The spirit-bird led, and the bereaved lover followed. Poisedon joyful wing, the little messenger fluttered before him, singingsweet songs of promise, until they had descended into the frightfulabyss, and its secrets stood revealed before them. Terrific sight!tremendous sound! Their eyes were appalled by the view of billowswhich mount to the very skies--of huge volumes of water, dashing downthe dreadful precipice into a vast basin, which seemed large enough tobe the tomb of the giant Chappewee; and their ears were saluted withsounds, whose loudness and violence were a thousand times beyond thoseof the tempest, or the thunder, or the earthquake. Onward they gropedtheir desperate way beyond the fiercest fall, until all at once theycame to a dreadful cavern shrouded in the deepest night and gloom. Notwithstanding the whirl of waters, and the impetuous rush of theblast, and, though the earth rocked around them like a canoe on thestormy waves of the Spirits' Bay of Lake Huron(2), yet the brave andpatient Moscharr, unwearied and fearless, followed through pass andpitfall, by stream and steep, the flight of his little conductor. Keeping the lamp carried by the spirit-bird in view, he regarded notthe huge rocks toppling above his head, and each moment threateninghim with instant destruction, but fought on his perilous course, tillthey had threaded the labyrinth, and found themselves in a cavern, asunlike the first, as the tranquil summer sky is unlike the blusteringof the sky in the Moon of Storms. 

The cavern, into which they now found entrance, was lit up by a blazeof effulgence, which seemed as great as would be that of a hundredsuns shining at one time. So astonishing was the brightness, sosurpassing the beauty of those things which served for the lamps ofthis vast hall, that the Iroquois warrior for a moment forgot thecause which brought him thither, and stopped to admire the glorieswhich were scattered around him. It was, indeed, filled with all thatmight dazzle and ravish the sight. Above them glittered a firmamentstudded, it seemed, with stars, yet flashing a light far morebrilliant than the stars of night ever gave. And the sides of thecavern glittered with the gorgeous hues reflected from the shiningstones of many colours wherewith it was set. 

But why halts the spirit-bird guide, and why does he veil his lamp?Why looks he with anxious eyes to yonder bright chambers in thecavern? What beings are those which appear in that chamber, and whoseare those accents that fall on the eager ears of the lovers? I beholda couch formed of spar that glitters like icicles in the beams of thesun. It is covered with the softest grass that grows at the bottom ofthe torrent, and upon it is laid, panting with weariness and fright, abeautiful woman--it is the flower of the forest maidens, the lostMekaia! At her side, no longer counterfeiting the Iroquois warrior, but showing himself in all his native ugliness, his body crooked anddisproportioned, his hair coarse as the weeds that grow on the rocksof the great salt sea, his eyes green as a meadow in spring, his mouthof enormous size, and his ears like those of a buffalo, stands herpersecutor and ravisher, the Fiend of the Cataract. And thus he wooedthe fair helpless being that lay upon the couch of dazzling stone:

"Mekaia, beauteous Mekaia, the mighty Manitou of Oniagarah asks thylove. If thou wilt give it me, I will give thee in return all thetreasures of earth and flood, the diamonds which lie in the depths ofthe cataract, and the bright ore, which, in other lands, buys both thebodies and souls of men. The thing that thou wishest shall be withinthe reach of thy hand as soon as wished; and, to please thee, my formshall again take the shape and appearance of him thou lovest. I gonow, fair maiden, but soon will I return to thee and love. But, ifthou again refusest me, the Manitou shall come to woo thee likehimself, and, in his own proper form, of more hideous seeming thanthat which he now wears, and invested with thrice his present terrors, enforce his claim. His wishes gratified, he will spurn thee from him, and cast forth thy corse to the torrent. "

With this heavy threat the Manitou vanished. And now seize, seize, yelovers, the happy minute! 'Tis a moment of fate. Fly, fly! and look, the aërial messenger of Him who governs all things beckons them on. They obey the mute appeal, and with the fleetness of the mountain goatrush from the cavern. Their way is dark and dreadful, but fear lendsthem wings. They know from the lips of their beautiful guide, theSpirit-bird, which at length has opened its mouth to impart to themwords of kind encouragement, that with the dawning of day the fiend ofthe flood is but mortal--that with the crowing of the cock his poweris at an end; and they are urging their limbs to their utmost speed, for see, the gleam of red tells that day is nigh. The little messengerfrom the Great Spirit still points the pathway, and under his care andguidance they speedily gain the mid-height. Alas for the lovers!Heaven preserve them in this their hour of extreme peril, for see, thehorrible fiend is on their track, straining every nerve in pursuit;and so rapidly does he gain upon them, that, unless aid be sent fromsome superior power, they will be soon in his grasp. 

But the brave Moscharr still clung to hopes of escape, and stillexerted himself with almost superhuman power to accomplish it. Withone arm encircling the lifeless form of the maiden, he employed theother to draw himself, by means of the protruding shrubs, over thesteep precipices. A sudden thought enabled him to baffle for a whilethe grim pursuer. His foot, applied to a loose rock, launched it in atone of thunder upon the fiend, who was borne backward half thedistance of an arrow's flight by the ponderous mass. During the timehe was struggling to disengage himself from the weight that pinned himto the earth, the lover had nearly won the farthest bound of theManitou's kingdom. And see, the purple and grey breaks out from theeast. It is day, and the power of the Manitou, as far as regards hisspiritual nature, is ended. Summon, O Moscharr, all your strength andfleetness, and by one desperate effort escape his personal strength, as the fortunate coming of the daylight's beam has placed you beyondthe reach of his supernatural power! Hurry on! hurry on! The kingdomof the Manitou extends but to the lowest bubble of foam--it ends withthe last billow of the rapids--the goal is before you; it is scarcehalf a bowshot from you--haste, and it is won. Hurry on! hurry on! themoment you have reached the boundary of the fiend-kingdom, multitudesof good spirits--friends to you, but deadly and implacable foes toyour enemy--will start up to assist you. 

With the maiden on his arm, all wounded and bleeding, his own bodylacerated and torn, yet unyielding as ever, does the brave Moscharrpursue his flight. But he feels as if the moment of death was near athand. Exhausted by his almost superhuman efforts to escape, he finds aweakness and trembling stealing over his limbs, and he faints, andfalls with his lovely burthen to the earth, at the very moment ofvictory and safety. The Manitou has reached him, and, with afiend-like laugh on his horrid face, bends exultingly forward to seizehis helpless victims. One hand he lays upon the tender arm of theforest-flower, the other is in the hair of the lover. But, as he bendsforward, a sudden jerk of the Iroquois, occasioned by returning life, draws him unwittingly over the line which marks the boundaries of hiskingdom and sway. In a moment--in a breath--ere the eye could havewinked, or the spirit thought--multitudes of bright beings start upfrom each nook, and dell, and dingle--from field and flood. The deepspace, the rocks above them, below them, at their side, the air aboveand around them, as far as the eye can reach, is filled withbeneficent spirits. "He is ours!" they shout; "he is ours! He haspassed from the region over which he had sway; he has left thedominions and powers over which he held rule. He is ours! he is ours!Not in vain did we leave our verdant bowers in the distant Lake of theThousand Islands, to hasten to the succour of the maiden flower of theforest and her brave and faithful lover. It was the Great Spirit thatinspired us to come hither, that we might save from death, and whatwere far worse, the beautiful betrothed of the valiant Moscharr. He isours! he is ours! the Manitou is ours! Now launch your light barks, brothers--launch your light barks! The skiffs that brought us hithermust be moored in the calm bays of our dear island before the broadsun looks over the tops of the eastern hills. But first we must punishour ruthless foe. Let us inflict on him the fate he threatened toinflict on the beauteous maiden--let us bind him and throw him downthese rugged rocks into the wave that rolls furiously below! He isours! he is ours!"

At once--at the conclusion of their song of triumph--a thousand brightforms sprung upon the prostrate and powerless Manitou, and bound anddragged him to the steep. And while again arose their wild butmelodious cry, "He is ours! he is ours!" they launched him into thethundering torrent below, which swept his mangled and lifeless bodyinto utter oblivion. 

When the destruction of the fiend was accomplished, the beautifulspirit-bird, which, while the deed of his death was doing, sat eyeingthem intently from a broken crag above their heads, rose from itsperch, and, after dropping upon the pair, from his radiant wings, showers of light as the tokens of the love of its Master for them, soared back to the skies whence it came. The happy Moscharr and hisloved Mekaia then accompanied the friendly spirits, who had assistedin the overthrow of the bad Manitou, to their home in the beautifulLake of the Thousand Islands. The pair were welcomed with songs andrejoicings to the spirit shores, and loud were the revels, andboisterous the mirth, of its little inhabitants. Triumphs were madefor them, mingled with rejoicings, at the downfall of theirlong-feared and much hated foe. And when they had displayed their lovefor the pair, by all the means within their power--dancing, feasting, and kind speech--they dismissed them to their homes, with manyblessings upon their heads, and invocations of the Good Spirit toprotect and prosper them. The brave Moscharr and his beautiful bridesoon reached the home of his people, and lived to see their children'schildren listen with mute astonishment to the tale of the escape oftheir father's parents from the Manitou of the Cataract. 

NOTES. 

(1) _Beautiful bird. _--p. 104. 

The Spirit-Bird or the Wakon Bird is the Indian bird of paradise. Itis held in the utmost veneration by the Indians as the peculiar birdof the Great Spirit. The name they have given it is expressive of itssuperior excellence, and the veneration they have for it; the WakonBird being, in their language, the bird of the Great Spirit. It isnearly the size of a swallow, of a brown colour, shaded about the neckwith a bright green; the wings are of a darker brown than the body;its tail is composed of four or five feathers, which are three timesas long as its body, and which are beautifully shaded with green andpurple. It carries this fine length of plumage in the same manner as apeacock does, but it is not known whether it ever raises it into theerect position which that bird sometimes does. The Naudowessiesconsider it of superior rank to any other of the feathered creation. 

(2) _Louder than the thunder of the Spirits Bay of LakeHuron. _--p. 105. 

Nearly half-way between Saganaum Bay and the north-west corner of LakeHuron, lies a Bay, which is called Thunder Bay. The Indians, who havefrequented these parts from time immemorial, and every Europeantraveller that has passed through it, have unanimously agreed to callit by this name, on account of the continual thunder they have alwaysobserved here. Whilst Carver was making over it a passage which lastednear twenty-four hours--it thundered and lightened during the greatestpart of the time to an excessive degree. It is difficult to accountfor the phenomenon--perhaps the organic structure of the neighbouringcliffs invites the concentration of the electric fluid at this spot. 

THE ISLAND OF EAGLES. 

At a short distance below the Falls of St. Anthony, there is a smallrocky island, covered with huge trees, oak, pine, and cypress, itswater-fretted shores and steep cliffs formed of ragged rocks, againstwhich the waves of the cataract dash and foam in vain endeavours tooverwhelm it. This little island, so annoyed by the mighty andwrathful fiends who sit in that surge, is famous throughout the Indiannations for being the abode of the spirits of the warriors of theAndirondacks--a tribe which no longer exist--who, once upon a time, many ages ago, warring against the spirits of the cataract, werecompletely overthrown, and by the power of their enemies transformedinto eagles. As a punishment, they were bidden to dwell for ever onthat misty, foggy, and noisy island; doomed to a nicer perception ofhearing than belongs to mortals, that their fate might be the moreawful. If my brother wishes to hear the tradition, let him open widethe doors of his understanding, and be silent. 

The tribe of the Andirondacks were the mightiest tribe of theland--neither in numbers nor in valour had they their equal--theirrule stretched from the broad Lake Huron to the river of the Osages, from the Alleghany to the Mississippi. All the tribes which dwelt intheir neighbourhood were compelled to bow down their heads and paythem tribute. The Hurons sent them beaver-skins; the Eries wove themwampum(1); even the Iroquois, that haughty and warlike nation, wholorded it over their eastern neighbours with the ferocity of wolves, bowed to those mighty warriors, the Andirondacks, whose number wasgreater than that of the flights of pigeons in the month before thesnows, and who wielded spears, and bent bows, and shouted theirwar-cry with more power than any other tribe or people in the land. Some of the more distant tribes, to secure themselves againstinvasion, sent ambassadors with the pipe of peace wrapped in soft fursas a present; others offered their most beautiful women for wives tothe "lords of the land"--all, by various means, and in various ways, testified their inability to cope with them in war, and their anxietyto become friends and neighbours. If the proud Andirondacks grantedthe boon of peace, it was always with some hard condition annexed toit; not always did a favour granted by them prove a favour in the end. 

So long and uninterrupted a course of prosperity begot pride andarrogance in the bosom of the Andirondacks, and they forgot the Beingwho had bestowed so many blessings upon them, making their wivesfertile as a vine in a rich soil, giving them victory over all theirenemies, and health, and bounteous harvests, and successful hunts. They paid no more worship to that Great Being; no more offered him thejuicy fruits of their hunt; no more ascended the high hills at therising or setting of the sun, with their heads anointed with clay, topour out their souls in the song of gratitude for past, or in a prayerof supplication for future, favours; they no more scarified theirbodies in deprecation of his anger, but, believing themselves--vainfools!--able to do without his aid, they shook off their duty andallegiance to him, and bade him, if not in words at least in theirdeeds, defiance. Pride now possessed their souls, and hardness theirhearts. 

It need not be told my brother that the Great Spirit is slow to anger. Knowing his power to crush with a wink of his eye every livingcreature; to rend asunder the mightiest hills, yea, shake to itscentre the very earth with a puff of his breath; he is loth to putforth his powers or to call into action the whirlwinds of his wrath. He suffers men to revile him long before he attempts to punish them;he permits them to raise the finger of defiance many times before hestrikes it down, and the tongue to utter many a scornful word beforehe dooms it to the silence of death. It is so with the creatures ofthis world, as my brother must know. The strongest man--he who feelsmost confident of his power to repel aggression, and to commandrespect and obedience, is slowest to provocation, and, when excited toanger, the easiest to be soothed and calmed. The prairie-dog oftenershows his teeth than the wolf; the imbecile adder than thedeath-dealing rattlesnake. And my pale-faced brother has told us thewondrous tale, that, in his own land beyond the Great Waters, themighty animal which is called the King of Beasts is, save only when helacks food, as mild as the dove or the song-sparrow. And thus it waswith the Great Spirit, as regarded the scoffing and wickedness of theAndirondacks. Long he resisted the importunities of the subordinateManitous, that the haughty tribe might be punished for theirinsolence; long he waited with the hope that their eyes might beopened, and repentance seize their hearts, and amendment ensue. Hewaited in vain, each day they grew worse, until at length they broughtdown upon their heads the vengeance which could be no longer delayed. 

There was among the Andirondacks a youth who, from the moment of hisbirth, was the favourite of the being who rules the world. While yetan unfledged bird, his words were the words of grey-headed wisdom;while yet a boy his arm was the arm of a strong man, his eye the eyeof a cool man, and his heart like the heart of a brave man. He was ascool as a warrior who has lived to be aged in scenes of war. While hesat in his cradle of woven willow, his father chanced to speak in hishearing of an expedition which the Braves were about to undertakeagainst the distant Coppermines, who had their lodges on the skirts ofthe sea of eternal ice. The wise child bade the father call the chiefsand counsellors of the nation around him, and to them he said, "Youwill not succeed in this war. The Coppermines dwell in the regions ofgreat cold; before they can be met, icy hills and frozen lakes, andstormy winds and bleak tempests, must be encountered. If you meetthem, success would be doubtful, for they are on their own hills, withnerves fitted to endure the searching cold, and possessed of thatwhich the Andirondacks want--a thorough knowledge of every path thatcrosses their snow-clad vales and ice-bound waters. Stay at home, Braves, help your women to plant corn, and cut up the buffalo-meat, rather than go upon an expedition from which you will never return. DoI not see the torturing fires lighted, and Braves wearing theAndirondack mocassins bound to the stake of death? Do not mine earshear a death-song in the Andirondack tongue? And are not thesefearless sounds which come to mine ears the cries of the vulture andthe wolf, fighting for the remains of a human carcase, which hath theAndirondack tuft of hair? Stay at home, Andirondacks, help your womento plant corn, and cut up the buffalo-meat, rather than go upon anexpedition from which you will never return. "

But the young and ardent warriors said this was the speech of a boy, and they would not listen to them. They said that, were the words ofPiskaret the words of a man, they might hearken to them, but was he, who sat in his willow cradle, a fit counsellor to gray-headed sages, or even to young Braves, who had eaten the bitter root, and put on newwar-shoes, and fasted for six suns, and been made men. In vain did theboy assure them that his _medicine_, the Great White Owl, had revealedto him many strange things, and among others this--that if theAndirondacks engaged in a war against the Coppermines, the wrath ofthe Great Spirit, whose worship they had forsaken, would be uponthem, and of those who went not one should ever return. They laughedat his words, treating them as they would the song of a bird that hasflown over. They bound on their mocassins, and, taking their spears, and bows and arrows, bade adieu to the land of their fathers' bones. Did these valiant youths return, and did the words of the prophet-boyfall to the ground? Let the wolf, and the vulture, and themountain-cat, answer the question. They will tell my brother thattheir voracious tribes held a feast in the far country of theCoppermines, and that the remains of that feast were a huge heap ofhuman bones. Were they the bones of Andirondacks? They were, and thuswere the prophetic words of the wise boy rendered true, and hisreputation was established throughout the land. 

And when years came over him, and the fire of early manhood beamed inhis eye, the same signs of his being favoured of Heaven weredisplayed. He needed no practice to enable him to conquer in all thesports and exercises which are indulged in by the boys of his nation. He went beyond them in all which bespoke possession of the skill andcourage necessary to make a patient and expert hunter, or a brave andsuccessful warrior. In the game of archery, his arrow was evernearest the clout, and in hurling the spear, his oftenest cloveasunder the reed which was fixed as the mark. Ere he had seen fifteenharvestings of the maize, he could throw the stoutest man of the tribein the wrestle, and his feet in the race were swifter than the deer inits flight from the steps of the red hunter. When grey-headed menassembled in the council to deliberate upon the affairs of the tribe, their invasions, or their projected removals to other hunting-grounds, they asked "Where is the wise boy?" If he were not present, he wassent for, and no determination was made till he came, and haddelivered his thoughts. And thus grew up the young Piskaret, till hehad reached his twentieth spring. 

There was in the neighbouring nation of Ottawas a maiden who was asmuch celebrated for her beauty, and her charms, and her wit, as theAndirondack youth was for strength, and wisdom, and prudence. HerIndian name was Menana, which means the Daughter of the Flood. She hadreached the sixteenth summer of her residence among the Ottawas, thegentlest and lightest hearted, the mildest and sweetest maiden, thatever gazed on the pale full moon, or the glittering stars, or listenedto the song of the sparrow, or the waterfall. She knew how to do everything that was beautiful, or useful. If you saw a piece of gorgeouslydyed wampum, or a robe curiously plaited of the bark of the mulberry, or the feathers of the canieu or war-eagle, you needed not ask who didit--you might be sure it was Menana. Her voice was the sweetest thingever heard, her face the most beautiful ever seen--the first had in itthe melody of birds, with the expression they can never have till theyare gifted with the reason given to man--the last--but what is sobeautiful as the face of a beautiful woman! And then her laugh was asjoyous as a dance of warriors after a great victory, and her foot wasthe speediest foot that ever brushed the dew from the grass. Everybody loved her, and she loved every body. So kind, and so good, and sosweet-tempered, and so beautiful a maiden, was never known among theOttawas, famed as they are throughout the land for kind, and good, andsweet-tempered, and beautiful maidens. 

She was not the daughter of an Ottawa woman, or any other woman, norwas her father an Ottawa man, or any other man. She was the daughterof the mighty cataract. The moon in which she came to the land of theOttawas was the moon in which the forest trees put forth theirearliest buds, and the blooming takes place of the little blue flower, which our forest maidens love to twine with their hair, and our forestboys to gather as the harbinger of returning warmth, and joy, andgladness. She came not at first to the village of the Ottawas in theperfect shape of a human being. It was many years before that, onemorning, as the head warrior of the nation went out, as was his wont, to look abroad on the early sky, he found sitting at his door a littlecreature of a form such as he had never beheld, nor ever dreamed of. Woman she seemed from her waist upward, but fish or rather two fishesbelow. Her face was that of a most beautiful maiden in the charminghours when she begins to dream of tall youths; her eyes were blue asthe deepest tinge of the water, and mild as a summer morning, herteeth white as the teeth of a salmon, and her locks fell sweeping thevery earth. Her hands and arms were perfectly shaped, but they werecovered with scales, and here and there tinted with red, whichglittered like the evening sun on the folds of a cloud. Her height wasabout that of a small child who is just beginning to use its feet. Thestrange little creature did not stir as the warrior approached it, butsuffered him to survey it unmoved, and, when he kindly wiped the dewfrom its waving locks, bent its eyes upon him with the deepestgratitude depicted in its countenance. As an Indian believes thatevery thing, even trees, and rivers, and mountains, have souls, orspirits, and are all worthy to be adopted as his protecting _okkis_, the warrior addressed the strange creature, and besought it to becomehis intercessor with the Great Spirit, his _okki_ in peace and war. What was his surprise when it made reply to him, in a tone very nearlylike the tone of a human being, and in a dialect of the Ottawas, asfollows!

"I cannot be thy guardian spirit, for I am about to throw off myspiritual nature, and to become as thou art, a mortal, or rather I amto assume my former nature and state. Though I wear a form which isneither fish nor flesh, yet have I not always been thus. Once, manyyears ago, I was a human being. Gazing one evening on the blue sky, filled with shining lights, a passion came over my soul to behold themnearer. I besought the Master of Life to suffer me to ascend to theland of those bright things, and to visit the beautiful rainbows whichhad been equally the objects of my fond contemplation. My prayer washeard; I fell asleep, and, when I awoke, found myself where I wishedto be. I was among the stars, sailing with them as an eagle or a cloudis wafted along on the winds which sweep the lower world. I beheldthem glorious as you behold them from the earth, bright, round, andtwinkling balls of every size, all endued with life, and all busilyengaged in dancing their intricate dances, to music which came fromunseen hands. My words cannot describe the splendour of the scene. Yetshall I tell the Ottawa warrior that the scene and the dances soonceased to give pleasure. Who would wish to gaze for ever on the sun, bright and dazzling though he be? What one of all the fair things ofthe earth may be looked on for ever with delight? Its lakes, itsrivers, its mountains, its bold youths, and lovely maidens, and manyother things, are very fair, but each would tire were the eye to bechained to that alone. I was soon tired of the splendour of the starryworld, and wished myself again upon the earth. I asked the Master ofall for permission to return. He said, 'Thou hast been disembodied, thy flesh is decayed--thou art but a spirit, it may not be. ' 'May Inot', said I, 're-animate some form from which the breath has justdeparted? may I not enter the corse of some child, and live out theremainder of the days of a favoured mortal?'

"The Great Spirit answered, 'It cannot be. But if thou art content toreturn to the earth and assume a form which shall be neither mortalnor immortal, neither man nor beast, be it so. Remember thou shalt notbe endowed with the shape of a human being till thou shalt hear in thecataract, where I doom thee to dwell, the voice of one crying, 'Now isthe time. ' Then shalt thou leave the flood, repair to the land of mybeloved people, the Ottawas, and there gradually return to the shapewhich once was thine. But, an immortal soul shalt thou not possesstill thy bosom shall be lit up by the flame of love. '

"Thus spake the Great Being, and in a breath I found myself descendingfrom the land of the stars upon the glorious rainbow. Speedy anduninterrupted was my descent, till I came to the mighty cataract; itscapacious and stormy bosom received me, and there have I dwelt withthe Spirits of the Flood, the adopted daughter of their chief, tillnow. Lo, Ottawa! I am at thy door, a strange creature, but demandinghospitality and protection from thee. Wilt thou give it me till I ampermitted to take that form which shall give me the powers of a humanbeing, and feel my bosom lit up by that flame which may give me onebound to feed and protect me?"

The Ottawa answered, that "his cabin had a quiet corner, and thereshould the strange maiden--if, indeed, she were a woman--rest; hishouse was always the abode of plenty, and of that should the strangerpartake. " So the creature, who was neither fish nor flesh, continuedto reside in the cabin of the Ottawa warrior. 

But each day was she observed to be assuming more and more theappearance of a mortal maiden. The scales fell from her arms andhands, which lost their red tints, and became soft and fair as theflesh of a new-born child. The two fishes gradually became two wellproportioned legs. But though she had now become identified in formwith the human race, she retained many of the propensities of thatwith which she had formerly dwelt. She loved to sport in the cataract, and lave herself in the lakes and rivers. Often would she fly from thecompany of the Ottawas to that of her old friends, the Spirits of theFlood. How her eyes would glow with childish delight, when the raindashed from the clouds in torrents, and how mirthful she would be whenthe spring thaws swelled the noise and the volume of the cataract! Andshe better loved to feed on the ooze and the seeds of the grass, whichwere found in the torrent, and on those species of fish which are madethe prey of the larger, than on the food prepared on the hearth of theOttawa. Gradually, however, and at length fully, did her tastesconform to the tastes of those with whom she dwelt. 

Yet she had no soul--the spirit of a fish was in her, but not thespirit of a mortal. She could not weep with the afflicted, nor laughwith the joyful. She knew indeed her Creator, for all things, whetheranimate or inanimate, know Him; but the worship paid by her was notthe worship of one who has reason for what he does, but of one whofollows the prompting of instinct. She still retained her passion forthe evening, and the bright balls which light it, but better loved tosee their reflection in the water, than to behold them dancing aboutin the blue sky. 

At length, there arose a black cloud in the atmosphere--theAndirondacks and the Ottawas were no longer friends. A little thingbreeds a quarrel among the sons of the wilderness. A word lightlyspoken, a deer stricken an arrow's flight over a certain limit, aninsult of old date, but unavenged, a woman borne away from an approvedlover, are each deemed of sufficient importance to enlist all theenergies of a nation in the purpose of revenge. A deputation ofAndirondacks came to the chief village of the Ottawas, demandingsatisfaction for a trespass on their hunting-ground, and for doing thefoolish thing, so much reprobated by the red men of the forest as tooccasion frequent wars--the slaying of beasts of venery out of season. Among the chiefs was the youth Piskaret, who, although he had but justreached his twentieth summer, was, as I have before said, counted thestrongest, the wisest, and, by anticipation, the bravest, man of thenation. And with him came his aged father, the great chief of theAndirondacks. 

The feast was made and eaten, the dance was concluded, and the chiefs, and counsellors, and warriors, were smoking in the great pipe ofpeace, when the beautiful maiden, who bore the name of Menana, enteredthe council cabin. She had now lost all traces of her origin from thewaters, and to all appearance was a mortal woman. She entered withoutthat timid step which mortal maidens have when they find themselvessuddenly cast into a crowd of the other sex, with none of their own togive them countenance. But Menana was not versed in the ways ofmortals, and had none of the feelings which send the blush to thecheek and trembling to the heart of the maidens of the world. Aftersurveying the stern array of warriors for a moment, with a curious andenquiring look, she walked up to the youthful Piskaret, and said tohim in a sweet and soft tone, "Thou art very beautiful. Tell me if Imay not win thy love?"

The Brave, who was smitten with the charms of the fair creature, pressing to her side, whispered that he loved her better than all theworld, and wished her to become the wife of his bosom. Then hepainted, to her willing ear, the charms of his native land, and spokeof the tall old oaks which threw their giant shade over the banks ofthe gentle and placid river, and the many thick glades filled withlusty deer, and lakes stocked with delicious wild fowl, which were tobe found within the hunting-grounds of his nation. He told her of theplenty that reigned in the cabins of the Andirondacks, and how muchbetter their women fared than those of the surrounding tribes. TheDaughter of the Flood smiled sweetly on the youth, and tears, thefirst she had ever shed--and sighs, the first she had everbreathed--proofs of her having acquired a human soul--stole to herheart and her eyes. 

And now she had received a soul, and become possessed of thosefaculties which confer pleasure and pain, and create for theirpossessor happiness and misery, and joy and sorrow. She was now aliveto the hopes and fears which exalt or depress existence--had tears forthose that wept, and a laugh for those that laughed. She, who enteredthat assembly of warriors, fearless as an eagle seated on the top of alofty pine, now at once, in the twinkling of an eye, became filledwith trembling, and alarm, and apprehension, and strove to hide herblushes by half hiding her face in the bosom of him she loved. 

But pride, which has often interrupted the course of love, as well asled to the downfall of nations, crept into the councils of theAndirondacks, and they refused to permit the young warrior to take towife the maiden who was not of mortal parentage. They said that shewas of the blood of the spirits of the cataract, of a race who haddelighted to shed a cold and pestilential vapour over the villages oftheir nation, and had destroyed several Andirondacks, whose bloodremained unrevenged. In vain did the youth plead his love; in vain didhe show, that if the spirits of the flood warred on their neighbours, who were unable to inflict a wound on their adversaries, it furnishedno reason why the beautiful maiden, so lovely and so inoffensive, should be banned. She had not injured, then why should she be spurned?But his argument availed not to influence the warriors, or to bendtheir stern hearts to pity. They drove the fair Menana from the armsof him she loved best, and, exerting the authority, so potent amongthe red men of the wilderness, of a father, and of chiefs, and ofelders, they carried away the lover from the village of the Ottawas, thus dividing those whom the Great Being had so clearly created foreach other. 

But my brother asks what became of the beautiful maiden. Let himlisten, and I will tell him. She pined away with grief at beingseparated from the man she loved. She sang not the sweet song whichyoung maidens sing, who know neither love nor care--but her song waslonely and sad, as that of the bird of night. She wandered by herselfin the dark and gloomy woods, as the bird flits when deprived of itsmate, or the deer which carries its death-wound from the shaft of thehunter. Each day her eye lost a portion of its light, and her step ofits buoyancy. She laughed no more, nor joined the dance of maidens, nor went with them to gather wild flowers; but her amusements, ifamusements they could be called, were to weep and sigh, to wanderalone with listless step, and to sit by the edge of the cataract, telling her sad story to the spirits of the flood. The Great Spirit, seeing her grief, and knowing that a heart that is broken hath no morebusiness among the things of this world, bade her rejoin her friendsin the surge of the cataract. She heard the well-known andwell-remembered voice, and prepared to obey. Calling around her thefriends whom her sweetness and good-humour had won her, she bade thema tearful adieu, and received the like tribute of kindness. The youngBraves, who had before attempted to win her love, crowded around herto catch her last farewell, anxious yet fearing to attempt to change aresolution which had been dictated by the Great Spirit. They had toughspears in their hands, and well filled quivers at their shoulders, andtheir cheeks and brows were stained with the hue of wrath, for theywere prepared to avenge on the haughty Andirondacks the slight andinjury done the beauteous Menana. The maidens came to witness herdeparture, with tears bedewing their cheeks. All accompanied her tothe brink of the cataract, and beheld her throw herself into itsfearful bosom. 

No sooner had she reached the waters of that boiling torrent, thanuprose from its bosom the grisly heads of the fell spirits, who wereits inhabitants. Rage filled their countenances, and horridimprecations burst from their lips, as they vowed to be avenged onthat arrogant and wicked people, the Andirondacks, who had inflictedmisery upon an adopted and cherished daughter of the flood. The lastthe Ottawas saw of them, they were soothing and comforting thebeautiful Menana, whom, after sustaining for a few moments upon thesurface of the water, they bore to their crystal dwelling beneath thefoaming torrent. They first, however, employed an Ottawa messenger tobear their defiance to their enemies, and to assure them of theireternal hatred. 

It was not long after that a large war-party of the Andirondacks, composed of the flower of that nation, and headed by Piskaret, ascended the Mississippi, to make an incursion into the territories ofa nation who dwelt upon its borders above the Falls. It is the customof the tribes, when travelling upon the river, to approach to theverge of the cataract, and then transport their canoes around it. TheAndirondacks were within a bowshot of the cataract, when all at oncethe surface of the water became covered with grisly heads, whichgrinned hatred and defiance upon the Andirondacks, who, though filledwith courage to dare encounter with men of their own form and nature, shook with a new sense of fear, as they beheld the hideouscountenances and uplifted arms of the spirits of the flood. In thecentre of the array of water spirits, they beheld the face of thebeautiful Menana, still shining in all its former beauty, her eyes litup by the fires of an unquenched and unquenchable love. Raising theirdreadful shout of vengeance, the spirits now gathered about the canoesof the paralysed Andirondacks, and commenced their work ofdestruction. But _one_ was protected by a being of their ownorder--the brave and youthful Piskaret found himself, ere an arrow hadbeen impelled, or a thrust given by a spear, caught and shielded bythe arms of his faithful Menana. While the water-spirits were employedin dealing death among their enemies, whose resistance availed not, the beautiful maiden drew her lover from his seat in his canoe, anddisappeared with him beneath the waters. The moment the lovers hadsunk into the flood, the spirits, with a dreadful shout, sunk also, leaving but few of the Andirondacks survivors of their attack. Nearlythe whole had perished from the assaults of beings against whom humanweapons were useless--who laughed at the puny resistance of mortals, and feared their battle less than the carcajou fears the mouse, or thecanieu the humming-bird. 

The Great Being, at the prayer of the water-spirits, bade the souls ofthe slaughtered Andirondacks assume the shape of eagles, commandingthem to dwell for ever on the little island which stands just belowthe cataract, and within the full hearing of its incessant andtremendous roar. That they might receive the full reward of theirarrogance, and pride, and cruelty, he so refined their sense ofhearing, that the shaking of the wings of the bat was to them as loudas the thunder of the hills to a man having but the usual ear. Whatthen must be the noise of the mighty cataract, which, leaping over aprecipice of rocks, upon a stony bed, flies back again in foam andspray, higher than an arrow impelled by the toughest bow, bent by thestrongest arm!

If my brother believes my story the song of a bird, let him visit thecataract, and use his own eyes and ears. If he do not behold thatlittle island covered with eagles, whose wings never cleave any otherair than its own; if he do not hear the angry voice of the spirits inthe boiling waters, ay, and if he do not see them after nightfall;then let him call me a liar. 

I have no more to say. 

NOTE. 

(1) _Wampum. _--p. 118. 

Wampum is an Indian word signifying a muscle. A number of thesemuscles strung together is called a string of wampum, which when afathom long is termed a belt of wampum, but the word string iscommonly used whether it be long or short. Before the English came toNorth America, the Indians used to make their strings of wampumchiefly of small pieces of wood of equal size, stained either black orwhite. Few were made of muscles, which were esteemed valuable anddifficult to make. But the Europeans soon contrived to make strings ofwampum, both neat and elegant, and in great abundance. The Indiansimmediately gave up the use of the old wooden substitutes for wampum, and procured those made of muscles, which, though fallen in price, were always accounted valuable. 

These muscles are chiefly found on the coast of Virginia and Maryland, and are valued according to their colour--which is brown, violet, andwhite. The former are sometimes of so dark a shade that they pass forblack, and are double the price of the white. Having first sawed theminto square pieces, about a quarter of an inch in length, and aneighth in thickness, they grind them round or oval upon a commongrind-stone. Then, a hole being bored lengthways through each, largeenough to admit a wire, whipcord or large thong, they are strung likebeads, and the string of wampum is completed. Four or six stringsjoined in one breadth, and fastened to each other with a fine thread, make a belt of wampum, being about three or four inches wide, andthree feet long, containing, perhaps, four, eight, and twelve fathomsof wampum, in proportion to its required length and breadth. This isdetermined by the importance of the subject which these belts areintended to explain or confirm, or by the dignity of the persons towhom they are to be delivered. Every thing of moment, transacted atsolemn councils, either between the Indians themselves or with theEuropeans, is ratified and made valid by strings and belts of wampum. Formerly they used to give sanction to their treaties by delivering awing of some large bird, and this custom still prevails among the morewestern nations, in transacting business with the Delawares. Upon thedelivery of a string, a long speech may be made, and much said uponthe subject under consideration: but when a belt is given few wordsare spoken, but they must be words of great importance, frequentlyrequiring an explanation. Whenever the speaker has pronounced someimportant sentence, he delivers a string of wampum, adding, "I givethis string of wampum as a confirmation of what I have spoken. " Butthe chief subject of his discourse he confirms with a belt. Theanswers given to a speech thus delivered must also be confirmed bystrings and belts of wampum, of the same size and number as thosereceived. Neither the colour nor the quality of the wampum is matterof indifference, but both have an immediate reference to those thingswhich they are meant to confirm. The brown or deep violet, calledblack by the Indians, always means something of a severe or doubtfulimport, but white is the colour of peace. Thus, if a string or belt ofwampum is intended to confirm a warning against evil, or an earnestreproof, it is delivered in black. When a nation is called upon to goto war, or war is declared against it, the belt is black, or markedwith red, called by them the _colour of blood_, having in the middlethe figure of a hatchet in white wampum. 

The Indian women are very dexterous in weaving the strings of wampuminto belts, and marking them with different figures, perfectlyagreeing with the different subjects contained in the speech. Thesefigures are marked with white wampum on the black, and with black uponthe white belts. For example, upon a belt of peace, they verydexterously represent in black wampum two hands joined. The belt ofpeace is a fathom long, and of the breadth of a hand. To distinguishone belt from the other, each has its peculiar mark. No belt, exceptthe war-belt, must show any red colour. If they are obliged to useblack wampum instead of white, they daub it over with white clay, and, though the black may shine through, yet in value and import it isconsidered as equal to white. These strings and belts of wampum arealso documents by which the Indians remember the chief articles of thetreaties made between themselves, or with the white people. They referto them as to public records, carefully preserving them in a chestmade for that purpose. At certain seasons they meet to study theirmeaning, and to renew the ideas of which they were an emblem and aconfirmation. On such occasions they sit down around the chest, takeout one string or belt after the other, handing it about to everyperson present; and, that they may all comprehend its meaning, theyrepeat the words pronounced on its delivery in their whole connexion. By these means they are enabled to remember the promises reciprocallymade by the different parties. And, as it is their custom to admiteven young boys, who are related to the chiefs, to these assemblies, they become early acquainted with all the affairs of state; and thusthe contents of their documents are transmitted to posterity, andcannot be easily forgotten. 

LEGEND OF ATON-LARRE[A]. 

[Footnote A: The burnt weed. ]

When the Nansemonds occupied for their hunting-grounds the vastforests which lie between the Mountains and the Great Arm of theSea[B], they were the lords and masters of the wilds, and ruled themaccording to their pleasure. Throughout the land there was none equalto them for swiftness and dexterity in the chase, and they wereforemost amongst the nations for their prowess in war. When theirshout was heard among the distant hills of the Lenapes, the craven cryof that timid people was, "A Nansemond! a Nansemond!"--when they launchedtheir canoes upon the distant Mississippi, the men of that region fled, like a startled deer or elk from the growl of the carcajou. 

[Footnote B: Chesapeak Bay. ]

Their numbers have now become thinned; many populous villages havedisappeared--brother, the Nansemonds are not what they were, at leastin numbers. But they have not lost their courage and valour, nordegenerated from the ancient renown of their fathers, nor has thethinning of their nation in the least tarnished the reputation of thefew who yet live, or caused their enemies to deem them less than men. None can say that they ever turned their backs upon a foe, or shunnedencountering one who wished for combat. Even the Iroquois, whose armshave always wielded a tomahawk against them, and who, in their turn, have encountered their deadly vengeance, confess them very brave, and, whenever they make them captives, honour them with the prolongedtorture, which it is the right of the brave and valiant only to suffer. 

There was once upon a time, in this tribe, formerly so potent andrenowned, but now so few and feeble, a maiden, whose name wasAton-Larre, one of whose souls--that which speaks of things understoodby all, and discourses in a language intelligible to all--had left itshouse of flesh to go to the Cheke Checkecame, or land of departedspirits. The other soul yet abode in the body, but it was the soulwhich takes care that the mouth has meat and drink, administering tothe wants of the flesh which enshrouds it by supplying it with foodand clothing, and protecting it from fire and frost. Yet, though thesensible soul had wandered out, it had not taken away her memory, norher faculty of seeing things unseen by other mortals, or of relatingentertaining stories. 

She was very beautiful, but her beauty was of a strange character. Herform was very tall and commanding, and she was straight as a reed. Herdark eyes had, from the disordered state of her mind, received a verywild expression, but none that knew her feared her, for she wasinnocent and harmless as a child. Her long black hair, which swept theearth at her feet, was interlaced with gay beads and shells, and gayerwild flowers, and around her wrists and ancles were fastened stringsof the teeth of the alligator. It was her greatest pleasure to enterher canoe, and commit it to the current of the river. Then, whiledrifting about, she would sing wild and melancholy songs, striking thewater at irregular intervals with a long paddle which she held in themiddle, and which formed a kind of concert with the song, as thoughtwo persons were singing. 

It was strange, but her people declared that the sensible soul lefther while she was worshipping the Great Spirit in the _Quiccosan_[A]. There, while performing the sacred dance around the carved posts[B], her soul was called away to the happy regions, and her mind becamelike a cloud in the time of a strong blast, or a dry leaf carried intothe sky by a whirlwind. Others asserted that she had dared to spitupon a _pawcorance_[C], and for that had been punished by the GreatBeing with the loss of her senses. It matters little which was true, since one of them must have been; for it is only the Great Spirit whocan take away the gift of reason which he bestows, and he only takesit away from those with whom he is angry. And thus lived the crazedAton-Larre--strange that her bosom should have felt the pangs of love, and that for a being so ugly and misshapen as the little Ohguesse. 

[Footnote A: Place of worship--church. ]

[Footnote B: The Indians, occupying what is now called Virginia, hadposts fixed around the interior of their Quiccosan, or place ofworship, with men's faces carved upon them. These tribes have longbeen extinct. ]

[Footnote C: Altar-stone. From this proceeds the great reverence thesetribes had for a small bird, peculiar to that region, and whichcontinually called out that name. They believed it was the soul of oneof their princes, and thence permitted no one to harm it. But therewas once, they said, a wicked Indian, who, after abundance of fearsand scruples, was, at last, bribed to kill one of them. But he paiddear for his presumption, for a few days after he was taken away, andnever more heard of. ]

This Ohguesse was a youth, whose feet wanted the fleetness, and whosearm lacked the strength, of a man's, but he was nevertheless thefavourite of the Great Spirit. He was less in stature than a man, andcrooked withal, his height being little more than that of the tallbird[A] which loves to strut along the sandy shore, picking up thefish as they flutter joyously along in the beams of the warm andcheering sun. But if he was diminutive in body he was great in hissoul--what others lacked in wisdom he supplied. His name was Ohguesse, which signifies a Partridge. His brothers gave him this name becauseof his preferring peace to war--of his liking better to hunt the lessdangerous animals, the _makon_ than the _mackwah_[B], and to spear thefish that gave little trouble, and to snare peaceful birds--all sportsunworthy of a man. But this tame and pacific spirit was forgiven inOhguesse, because he was little and misshapen, and, withal, thefavourite of the Great Spirit. None could call down rain from theclouds, or conjure them into a clear sky, or foretell the coming ofstorms, like him. If he bade the women plant the maize, they might besure that a shower was at hand; if he bade the warriors depart on adistant expedition, they knew it would be successful. His blessingspoken over the seine was as good as its marriage[C]; his prayer tothe Great Spirit in the cave, or on the hill-top, procured health andplentiful harvests for his people. And such was Ohguesse. 

[Footnote A: The crane or pelican. ]

[Footnote B: _Mackwah_, an old bear; _makon_, a bear's cub. ]

[Footnote C: It is what they call the bosom-net, with which theIndians perform this singular ceremony. Before they use it they marryit to two virgins, and, during the marriage-feast, place it betweenthe brides; they afterwards exhort it to catch plenty of fish, andbelieve they do a great deal to obtain this favour by making largepresents to the sham fathers-in-law. ]

Singular were the means by which Aton-Larre testified the affectionshe bore the little man. She would wander for hours in search of sweetberries, because he loved them; and, when in the house of her father, they were cooking the juicy buffalo's hump, she always begged the mostsavoury parts to carry to him she loved. When the winter brought itssnows and storms, she went morning and evening to the cabin in whichhe dwelt, to see that there was fire to keep him warm, and, if illnessassailed him, and pain stretched him out on a bed of sickness, for hisstrength was little and his body feeble, who but the crazed Aton-Larregave him the drink which took the cramp from his limbs, and restoredhim to health?

Nor was the little Ohguesse unmindful of her kindness--he met her lovewith equal return. If she procured for him ripe berries, he testifiedhis gratitude in a way which repaid her fondness--and the meat shegave him, though it was ever so old and tough, was to him the juiciestthat ever touched the lips of man. He would sit on the bank of theriver for half a sun, watching her canoe, as she swept it over thecurrent, and listening to her charming songs in which his own name wasmentioned with so much love. And, when fatigued by her labour sheguided her bark to the shore, Ohguesse was sure to meet her withoutstretched arms, and assist her in the labour of carrying the canoeto its shed of pine branches. In the long evenings of the moons ofsnow and frost she would sit and relate to him--for her memory had notleft her--tales of the goodness of the Great Spirit and the wickednessof the Evil Spirit; of the wars of the tribe, and of the journeys shehad made to the land of souls, and of the dreams she dreamed, and ofstrange fishes she had seen in the depths of the sea, and strangefowls in the upper regions of the air, and strange beasts in the wildforests. Many indeed were the wonderful things she had beheld, if youbelieved what she said--and who could do otherwise, since her soul hadtravelled to the Happy Hunting-Grounds, and her eyes beheld with adouble nature--the nature of a spirit and the nature of a mortal? Itwas in one of these long and stormy winter nights that she related tothe tribe the story of the _Maqua that married a Rattlesnake_. 

There was once upon a time, she began, in the tribe of the Maquas, thefoes of my nation, a young warrior whose name was Cayenguirago. He wasthe bravest and most fearless of men--his deeds were the theme ofevery tongue, from the stormy shores of the wild Abenakis to themountain clime of the fierce Naudowessies. While he was yet a boy hisdeeds were the deeds of a man--ere the suns of fifteen summers hadbeamed on his head, he had followed in the war-path of the full-grownBraves to the haunts of the Mohicans on the borders of the Great SaltLake. And, before the snows of the succeeding winter had melted, hehad become a Brave and a werowance[A]. But with his great strength anddaring valour was mixed a bad and cruel disposition--his heart wasvery wicked and impious. When the priests spoke to him of the GreatSpirit, he told them he should never believe there was such a spirittill he saw him--he omitted no opportunity of making scoff of thatgood being, and laughing at his thunders. His mocks of those wise andgood men, the priests and prophets, whom the Great Spirit loves andhonours, by making them acquainted with his wishes and will, werecontinually poured out. He paid no respect to aged people; he tookthe bison's meat from his father's famished mouth, and knocked thegourd of water from the lips of his thirsty mother. If he saw a manweaker than himself he took from him whatever he coveted, and made norestitution of the things he found. If he cast his eyes upon a maiden, and she listened to his false tongue, erelong her tears were sure toflow faster than those of a roebuck[B] that is hard pressed by ahunter. The brothers and sisters that were in the cabin of his father, if they crossed him, were beaten like a dog caught in a theft; if hegave a pledge to follow a chief(1) he was sure to forget it; if hemade a vow to aid a friend in danger, he was sure to desert him, notfrom fear, but because it was a pleasure to him to do wrong andinflict injury. And thus lived Cayenguirago, the Great Arrow of theMaquas. 

[Footnote A: _Werowance_, a war-chief. ]

[Footnote B: I do not know whether the roebuck actually weeps when heis hard pushed--the Indians believe he does. ]

Once upon a time, as this brave but bad chief was hunting alone in thewilderness, in a spot which the Great Spirit had forgotten tolevel(2), he came to a great cave in the side of a hill. It was in thetime of winter, and the hour of a fearful fall of rain and hail. Toescape the wrath of the spirits of the air, he entered this deep cavein the side of the hill, carrying with him much wood, and the spoilshe had won in the chase. As he entered it he heard many strange andfearful noises, but Cayenguirago was a warrior, though a wicked one, and, little troubled at any time by frightful sounds, he pursued hisway into the interior of the cave. It was dark as a cloudy night inthe time that follows the death of the moon, but he remarked that thecave was lit up and the darkness partially dispelled by what appearedto be little stars, exceedingly bright substances which resembled theeyes of a wolf, though smaller and far brighter, and which werecontinually shifting about the cave with a slow and uncertain motion. Then, for sound there was an incessant rattling, and hissing, andslapping, which almost stunned him with noise. As he moved on he foundhimself impeded by something into which his feet were continuallysettling, and which he judged to be loose sand. When he had gone farenough from the entrance to be free from the current of air whichentered the cavern by it, he laid down the deer's flesh which he hadbrought upon his back, took out his flint and tinder-box, and struckfire. Having properly disposed of the wood he had brought, and kindleda flame, he raised himself to an upright posture to survey the cavern. Who shall describe the terror which filled the soul of Cayenguirago, stout and fearless as he was, when he found himself in the middle ofan immense body of rattlesnakes, and perceived that it was among thesedeadly animals, of which there was a thick layer upon the floor of thecave, that he had been for some time wallowing? Their eyes it was thatlit up the cavern, and theirs were the hissing, and rattling, andslapping, which saluted his ears. Under his feet and upon every sideof him, as far as the eye could reach, were heads upreared with littlefiery tongues projecting from green jaws, and moving with a motionmore rapid than a flash of summer lightning. The heads about thecavern were thicker than the thievish ravens in a field of milky corn. The moment that the light of the fire he had kindled enabled them tosee the intruder, all of them rushed towards him, though noneattempted to inflict injury. The nearest approached within a step;those behind climbed over the backs of the more advanced, until theylay piled up on every side, as high as the shoulders of a tall man. Surrounded, as Cayenguirago was, by the most venomous and dreadful ofall the animals formed by the Great Spirit, he did not forget to keephis fire burning, nor to draw out his pouch filled with good tobacco. Having recovered his coolness and composure, and become a man again, he filled his pipe with the beloved weed, and, lighting it, began toroll out clouds of smoke. Each time he puffed, he observed that thesnakes retreated further from him, until at length they were seengliding into the darkness which enshrouded the further part of thecavern. 

While he lay thus warming himself at the fire, and emitting clouds offragrant smoke, some one near him exclaimed, in a very sharp andshrill voice, "Booh!" Looking up, Cayenguirago beheld standing behindhim a very ugly creature, but whether man or beast, he found it atfirst difficult to determine. His skin was black as soot, and his hairwhite as snow. His eyes, which were very large, were of the colour ofthe green far-eyes[A] with which the pale faces survey distantobjects, and stood out so far from the head that, had one of them beenplaced in the middle of the forehead, a tear dropping from it wouldhave hit the tip of the nose. His teeth, which were very large, werewhite as snow; his ears, which were yellow, were smaller than the leafof the black walnut, and shaped exactly like it. His legs were notshaped like those of a human being, but were two straight boneswithout flesh or joint, and both black and glossy as charred birch. But what rendered him yet more horrible to look at was that snakes, poisonous rattlesnakes, were wreathing themselves around his legs, and body, and arms--leaping from him, and upon him, tying themselvesin knots around his neck, and doing other feats of horrid agility. After surveying this uncouth being and his fearful companions for afew moments in deep silence, Cayenguirago addressed him thus:--

[Footnote A: _Far-eyes_, the name the Indians gave to spectacles. ]

"Who art thou?"

"Thy master. "

"The Maqua is a man, " replied the warrior fiercely; "his knee wasnever bowed--he acknowledges no master. "

"Thou hast served me long and well, Cayenguirago--I am Abamocho, theSpirit of Evil, and this is my dwelling-place. "

"Thou hast chosen a dark abode, and strange companions, " replied thewarrior. 

"They are not my companions, but my warriors, my braves, mytormentors, " answered the Spirit of Evil. "It is with these that Itorment bad people, as the Maquas use old women to torment theprisoners they take in battle. But fear not, Cayenguirago, thou hastbeen a faithful servant to me--I will not suffer my people to harmthee. Dost thou know that I design to bestow my daughter upon thee fora wife?"

"I did not know it?" answered the Maqua. 

"She shall be thine, " said the Evil Spirit. "But I warn thee thatthere have been very many pleasanter companions than she will makethee, for she is excessively irritable and passionate. Withal she isso fond of admiration, that I have no doubt she would give chace tothe ugliest toad that ever devoured a worm, so she could captivatehim. She is a true woman. "

"What will the father give the Maqua that marries her?"

"Wampum, much wampum--"

"I will take her. "

"Many beaver-skins, and much bear's meat--"

"Cayenguirago will make her his wife. "

"Revenge against the Hurons who slew so many of his warriors in thelast Beaver-Moon. He shall drink their blood in plentiful draughts, heshall eat their children roasted in the fire, and feed his men uponbroth made of the flesh of their Braves[A]. "

[Footnote A: These, as I before observed, are mere metaphors, signifying a deep revenge. ]

"She is mine!"

"Dost thou know that she is a rattlesnake?"

"I care not, so she bring me as her portion the rich presents and thesweet revenge thou hast spoken of. Shall the Maqua behold the maiden?"

"He shall, but the father bids him remember one thing. When themarriage has taken place, let not the husband forget to cut off hiswife's tail. Upon his remembering this injunction his life depends. Ifhe forget it the bride will be a widow ere she is a wife. "

With this the Spirit departed into the inner part of the cavern. Hesoon returned, bringing with him a huge unwieldy rattlesnake. "This, "said he, as he came up to the Maqua, "is the maiden I spoke of, andthe wife I have long destined for thee. She is rather fatter than needbe--she will eat the less, however. Take her, thou hast been a goodservant, and I owe thee a reward. Cayenguirago!"

The warrior answered, "I hear. "

"I warn thee once more that my daughter is very irritable andpassionate, and withal so fond of admiration, that nothing in theshape of a leer comes amiss to her. She likes a good squeeze above allthings. Evil, and the Father of Evil though I be, I am not so verywicked as to wish thee to marry a woman of that description withoutthy knowing what kind of treasure thou wilt possess. "

"But thou hast promised me revenge against the Hurons, who slew somany of my warriors in the last Beaver-Moon: remember that. " And thechief commenced his song, which ran thus:--

 I shall taste revenge; I shall dip my hands in purple gore; I shall wet my lips with the blood of the men, Who overcame my Braves; I shall tinge the lake so blue With the hue which it wore, When I stood, like a mouse in a wild cat's den, And saw the Hurons dig the graves Of my Maquas good and true!

 I shall build a fire Of hickory branches dry, And knots of the gum-exuding pine, And cedar leaves and cones, Dry stubble shall kindle the pyre. And there shall the Huron die-- Flesh, and blood, and bones! But first shall he know the pain Of a red-hot stone on the ball of his eye, And a red-hot spear in the spine. And, if he murmur a grain, What shouts shall rend the sky, To see the coward Huron flinch, As the Maquas rend him inch by inch?

The Maqua, having finished his song of blood, turned around to hisbride, and spoke to her kindly, telling her how happy they shouldlive, and many other things usually said in such cases, and provingtrue as often as larks fall from the skies. The Evil Spirit now spoketo Cayenguirago, bidding him follow him to an inner room in thecavern, and finish the marriage at once. He obeyed, leading his pursybride by a string which he tied around her neck. The whole body ofrattlesnakes followed the couple--hissing, and slapping, and rattlingtheir tails, and running out their forked tongues; but, whether forjoy or sorrow, Cayenguirago either cared nothing, or did not think itworth his while to enquire. At last they came to a small room, whichwas lighted up by a great blue fire burning in the centre. This, theEvil Spirit said, was his daughter's chamber, and there they wouldpass the night, upon which the maiden pretended to be much ashamed. The couple now went through the Indian form of marriage, and the Maquabecame the husband of the rattlesnake--daughter of the Evil Spirit, Abamocho. 

They spent the evening very pleasantly together, and so well wasCayenguirago entertained with the pleasant stories she told him, andher wit, and good humour, and the kisses she gave him, that heentirely forgot the advice of her father. So, after they had spentsome time in talk and fondling, the bride crept to her bed of leaves, and the husband followed. 

By and by the Maqua said to his wife, "Thy flesh is very cold--lie alittle further off. "

"My flesh is warm, " answered the other; "but thou hast drawn to thyside all the covering, and the spirit of cold is breathing harshlyupon me from the distant cavern. "

Upon that they fell to disputing fiercely about love, and hatred, andcold, and many other things, which need not be mentioned here. Louderand louder rose their voices, and more violent grew the dispute, untilthe wife, losing the very little patience she possessed, applied thedeadly sting, which dooms to instant death, to bring her husband toher side of the argument. A horrid shout told the creeping of thesubtle poison through his veins. Few were the moments that elapsedbefore he lay a stiffened, and swollen, and blackened, corpse. 

And thus perished the wicked Maqua, that married a rattlesnake andforgot to cut off her tail. 

 * * * * *

The rattlesnake figures very frequently in the Indian traditions. Theysuppose it to be endued with more sagacity than any other animal, except the owl, and to be peculiarly their intercessor with the EvilSpirit. Their _Okki_, or "Medicine-spirit, " is more frequently therattlesnake than any other animal--his teeth and rattles areinvariably ingredients of their medicine-bags. They have a traditionthat there was once a great _talk_, or council, held between theMohawks and the Rattlesnakes, and a "firm peace established betweenthe two nations, " which lasted till the coming of the Whites. 

NOTES. 

(1) _Pledge to follow a chief. _--p. 153. 

All those who enlist themselves on a war expedition give the chief abit of bark with their mark upon it, and he who after that draws backis scarcely safe while he lives; at least he would be dishonoured forever. 

Once enlisted, to turn back is, in their opinion, a disgrace of sodeep die that they encounter death rather than submit to it. Theycarry this chivalrous principle to an extent which finds no parallelin modern, and scarcely in ancient, history. Lewis and Clarke, intheir Expedition up the Missouri, (vol. 1. P. 60, Philadelphia, 1814), speak of an association among the Yanktons, "of the most brave andactive young men, who are bound to each other by attachment, securedby a vow _never to retreat before any danger, or give way to theirenemies_. When the Yanktons were crossing the Missouri on the ice, ahole lay immediately in their course, which might easily have beenavoided by going round. This, the foremost of the band disdained todo, but went straight forward, and was lost. The others would havefollowed his example, but were forcibly prevented by the rest of thetribe. There were twenty-two of these warriors at one time, but in abattle with the Kite Indians of the Black Mountains eighteen of themwere killed; the remaining four were dragged from the field of battleby their companions. "

(2) _Spot which the Great Spirit had forgotten to level. _--p. 153. 

The Indians believe that the earth was at first very loosely throwntogether, and not intended as a place of permanent occupation for anyone. Their opinions respecting the roughness of the surface arevarious and amusing. I asked a Cherokee what occasioned the surface ofthe earth to be so very uneven. After a momentary hesitation hereplied, "It was done in a wrestling and boxing-match between theGreat Spirit and the Evil Spirit. While they were scuffling, thelatter, finding himself moved about easily, occasionally worked hisfeet into the earth to enable him to stand longer. The valleys werethe holes his feet occupied, and the hills and mountains the sandthrown out. "

THE FIRE SPIRIT. 

My brothers know, said a Nansemond warrior, that our tribe have acustom of burning over, every season, the great glade, or prairie, which lies beyond the hill, which the Great Spirit struck with hislightnings in the Hot-Moon. Yearly they see the flames devouring thedry and ripe grass, but they do not know what led to this custom;probably they have never heard that it is done in consequence of asolemn promise made by their fathers to the Spirit of Fire. Let themlisten, and I will tell them the story. 

Once upon a time, as the Nansemonds were warring against the Eries, who have their residence upon the shores of the lake of that name, they were caught in a narrow valley, or ravine, which lay between twohigh hills. One of the outlets to this valley opened into the lake;the other, that by which they had entered, had been occupied soonafter their entrance into it, and, for a while, without theirknowledge, by a strong party of their enemies. It may well be asked, why a band of warriors, cunning, sagacious, and experienced, as theNansemonds were, should thus be caught like a foolish beaver in atrap. I will tell the warriors--they were decoyed into this dangerousvalley by the roguish and wanton tricks of the Spirit of Fire. 

This hasty and hot-tempered spirit, who is very good and kind when hismaster keeps him in due subjection, but who, when he escapes from hiscontrol, never fails to do a great deal of mischief, to burn up themaize, and frighten away the beasts which the Great Spirit has givento the Indians--or to destroy their food--sent Chepiasquit[A] to leadthe Nansemonds--foolish men! they supposed it was to a camping-ground, where cool shade and sweet water should be found--and decoy them intoa spot where they should fall an easy prey to their enemies. Nothought had they of entering this dangerous valley. It was soon afterthe coming of the darkness that they saw this treacherous ball in theopen space before them, and, believing it to be a lamp held out by afriendly spirit to conduct them, as I said before, to a place of restand safety, they followed it without hesitation, and were thus placedcompletely in the power of their enemies. But they were goodwarriors--men tried and approved in many deadly conflicts, and suchnever feel the touch of fear, or show concern, even when they see thefire lighted and the tortures prepared for them. So, when they foundthemselves in the toils of their enemies, like a herd of buffaloessurrounded by a band of mounted hunters, they coolly sat down to thinkof the means and reckon the chances of escape. 

[Footnote A: Jack-with-the-Lantern. --This is an appearance whichimpresses the Indians with inconceivable terror. They generallyretreat to a place of safety, if such can be had, on its firstappearance. ]

While they sat talking, suddenly there appeared under the shade of atree near them a man of singular shape and proportions. He was squat, and so very fat, that he looked like a skinned pig which has beenreared in a plentiful season of nuts and mast. His face was far widerthan it was long, and the flesh and fat fell in great folds, upon hisbody, legs, and arms, which were entirely naked, and of the colour ofa bright fire; his hair stood out every way, like flames kindled in abrisk wind; and, when he opened his mouth, the breath which issuedfrom it was felt scorching and searing at the distance of half abowshot. His eyes, which were two coals of fire, emitted sparks like apiece of birch wood which has been steeped in bitter water[A]. TheNansemonds were stricken with great terror at the sight of thishideous Spirit, and it was a long time before they ventured to addresshim. When they had called up a sufficient stock of courage, they wenttowards him, and the leader of the band spoke to him thus:

[Footnote A: Salt water. ]

"Who art thou?"

"The Spirit of Fire, " he answered. 

"Where is thy dwelling place?"

"I have my dwelling place in many and various places--in the cavernsof the earth, and where-ever mortals dwell, there am I found. "

"Why hast thou, Spirit, beguiled us into the toils of our enemies, theEries? Behold us entrapped, as a wolf is entrapped by a cunninghunter. "

"Then shall I taste revenge!" answered the Spirit, and broke into ahissing laugh. "Does not the chief of the Nansemonds remember that, when I had with my breath kindled a fire in the time of a high wind, and was enjoying the glorious prospect of giving the dry prairie tothe devouring flame, the men of his nation assembled, and firstrepelled, and finally extinguished, that flame. From that moment Ihave sought revenge--I have found it--the bravest of the Nansemondsare enclosed like a partridge in a net, soon like that partridge to befood for the spoiler. "

"Though we then sinned against thee, " answered the chief, "yet have wenot at all other times been thy true worshippers? When thy fierymeteors have been seen traversing the valleys, and shooting like starsover the prairies, we have bowed down our heads or retreated to ourcabins till they had passed, and in both cases failed not to deprecatethe anger of Him whom we deemed their master. And yet, Spirit, thouhast delivered us into the toils of our fierce enemies, the Eries!"

With the singular laugh, which was between a hiss and a roar, theSpirit replied by asking: "How know ye that I have delivered you intothe toils of your fierce enemies, the Eries?"

"What is the width of the valley into which thy treacherous eye hathdecoyed us?" demanded the haughty Chief. 

"Scarcely two bowshots, " replied the Spirit. 

"At its entrance, planted on both sides of the narrow pass, are Eries, well provided with bows and arrows and spears, waiting as a cunningcayman waits in the sedge for the unsuspecting water-duck. "

"There are indeed Eries waiting on both sides of the narrow pass, as acayman waits for a water-duck. "

"Then have you led the Nansemonds into a danger from which there areno means of escape?"

"Is there not another end to the valley?"

"There is, and what will it avail? As much as a bow and arrow in thehands of him whose eyes have departed, or a spear in the grasp of apalsied man. Upon each side of the valley, jut far into the lake hillswhose precipitous sides no one but a spirit can climb; and where arethe canoes which shall transport us to a place of safety?"

"What will the Nansemonds give if the Spirit of Fire will release themfrom the dangers which encompass them?"

"They will yearly kindle a fire in the time of a high wind, that theirdeliverer may have the glorious prospect of seeing the dry prairieswept by the devouring flame. "

"It is well! upon that condition I will save you. "

So saying he arose, and, taking up from the pool in the middle of thevalley a handful of slime, he rounded it into a ball, the whilebreathing upon it until it became of the colour of his face; when hehad done this, he placed it upon the great toe of his right foot, and, giving it a kick into the air, and calling it by the name of"_Chepiasquit_, " commanded it "to lead the good people, theNansemonds, to a place of safety. " So saying, he turned to thewarriors and bade them follow their guide, who would soon conduct themout of difficulty; and he bade them not forget their promise to fire aprairie in the time of a high wind in honour of him who ruled overthat element. Having spoken these words, he began to fade from theirview, as a fire goes out which is left unsupplied with fuel. First, the sparks from his eyes disappeared--then his breath ceased to be hotand scorching, and his eyes red and glowing--and soon there wasremaining but the indistinct resemblance of a being with the shape ofa man. A little while, and even that faint glimmering had ceased tobe. 

The Nansemonds arose and followed with confidence the fiery ball downthe valley. After travelling in an open path for some time, they cameall at once to the shore of the lake; they saw its little wavesdashing upon the smooth sand, and the stars reflected in the bosom ofthe clear waters. The fiery ball now changed its course along theshore. Following it, they came at the distance of three bowshots to alittle bay, where they found a number of canoes well provided withpaddles, and in each a calebash of good nesh-caminnick, and a piece ofroasted deer's flesh. They entered these canoes, and committedthemselves to the lake. Again the Spirit-ball coaxed them on. Darknessnow hid the moon and stars, but it only rendered their guiding lightmore visible. After following it till the dawn of day, they landedagain, and to their great joy found themselves at the foot of the wellknown path, which led from the lake to their own country. TheSpirit-ball had disappeared, but it had first placed them beyond thereach of danger. A few suns, and our fathers once more stood upon thebanks of their own pleasant river, the Nansemond, and listened to thejoyous prattle of their children, and looked into the bright eyes oftheir fond wives. 

Nor did they forget their promise to the Spirit. Yearly, in the timeof a high wind, they kindled a fire in the dry prairie, that theirdeliverer might enjoy the glorious prospect of seeing it swept by thedevouring flame. The warriors know that the custom is still preserved;they know that every year, in the Corn-Moon, when the grass on theprairie is ripe and dry, the chief, or the priest, goes to the spot, and, placing a lighted coal in the grass, makes a bow to it, pronouncing these words: "Thank you, Spirit!" when the grassimmediately blazes up, and the prairie becomes enveloped in flames. 

THE ORIGIN OF WOMEN. 

There was a time, when, throughout the Island, neither on land nor inthe water, in field or forest, was there a woman to be found. Vainthings were plenty--there was the turkey, and the swan, and the bluejay, and the wood-duck, and the wakon bird; and noisy, chattering, singing creatures, such as the daw, and the thrush, and the rook, andthe prairie-dog, abounded--indeed there were more of each than waspleasing to the ear--but of women, vain, noisy, laughing, chatteringwomen, there were none. It was, indeed, quite a still world to what itis now. Whether it is better and happier, will depend much upon theopinion men entertain of those, who have changed its character fromcalm and peaceable to boisterous and noisy. Some will think it is muchimproved by the circumstance which deprived the Kickapoos of theirtails--while others will greatly deplore its occurrence. 

At the time of which I am telling my brother, the Kickapoos, andindeed all red men, wherever found--and at that time there were nonebut red men in the world--were furnished with long tails like horsesand buffaloes. It was very handy to have these appendages in a countrywhere flies were numerous and troublesome, as they were in the land ofthe Kickapoos--tails being much more sudden in their movements thanhands, and more conveniently situated, as every body must see, forwhisking off the flies which light upon the back. Then they were verybeautiful things, these long tails, especially when handsomely paintedand ornamented, as their owners used to ornament them, with beads, andshells, and wampum--and being intended as a natural decoration to thecreature, the depriving him of it may well have produced, as it did, agreat deal of sport and merriment among the other animals, who werenot compelled to submit to the deprivation. The fox, who is ratherimpudent, for a long time after they were chopped off, sent to theKickapoos every day to enquire "how their tails were;" and the bearshook his fat sides with laughter at the joke, which he thought a verygood one, of sending one of his cubs with a request for a "dozen sparetails. "

I have said, that throughout the land there were no women. There weremen--a plenty, the land was thronged with them--not born, but createdof clay--and left to bake in the sun till they received life--andthese men were very contented and happy. Wars were very few then, forno one need be told that half the wars which have arisen have grownout of quarrels on account of love of women, and the other half onaccount of their maintenance. There was universal peace and harmonythroughout the land. The Kickapoos ate their deer's flesh with thePotowatomies, hunted the otter with the Osages, and the beaver withthe Hurons; and the fierce Iroquois, instead of waking the wild shoutof war, went to the land of the Sauks and Ioways to buy wampum, wherewith to decorate their tails. Happy would it have been for thered men if they were still furnished with these appendages, and wantedthose which have been supplied in their place--women!

But the consequence which usually attends prosperity happened to theIndians. They became very proud and vain, and forgot their creator andpreserver. They no more offered the fattest and choicest of their gameupon the _memahoppa_, or altar-stone, nor evinced any gratitude, norsung, nor danced in his praise, when he sent his rains to cleanse theearth and his lightnings to cool and purify the air. When their corngrew ripe and tall, they imputed it to their own good conduct andmanagement; when their hunt was successful, to their own skill andperseverance. Reckoning not, as in times past, of the superintendenceof the Great Spirit over all things, they banished him altogether fromtheir proud and haughty hearts, teaching them to forget that there wasaught greater or more powerful than himself. 

Though slow to anger, and waiting long before he remembers theprovocations he has received, the Great Spirit, in the end, and whenno atonement is made, always inflicts an adequate punishment for everyoffence. Seeing how wicked the Indians had become, he said to hisManitous: "It is time that the Kickapoos and other red men werepunished. They laugh at my thunders, they make mock of my lightningsand hurricanes, they use my bounties without thanking me for them. When their corn grows ripe and tall, instead of imputing itsluxuriance to my warm suns and reviving showers, they say, 'We havemanaged it well;' when their hunt is successful, they place it toaccount of their own skill and perseverance. Reckoning not, as intimes past, of my superintendence over all things, they have banishedme altogether from their haughty hearts, and taught themselves toforget that there is aught greater and more powerful than the Indian. "

So saying, he bade his chief Manitou repair to the dwelling-places ofthe red men, and, to punish them for their wickedness, deprive them ofthat which they most valued, and bestow upon them a scourge andaffliction adequate to their offences. The Spirit obeyed his master, and descended to the earth, lighting down upon the lands occupied bythe Kickapoos. It was not long before he discovered what it was whichthat people and the other Indians most valued. He saw, from the painsthey took in decorating their tails with gay paints, and beads, andshells, and wampum, that they prized them above every otherpossession. Calling together all the red men, he acquainted them withthe will of his master, and demanded the instant sacrifice of thearticle upon which they set so much value. It is impossible todescribe the sorrow and compunction which filled their bosoms, whenthey found that the forfeit for their wickedness was to be thatbeautiful and beloved appendage. But their prayers and entreaties, tobe spared the humiliation and sacrifice, were in vain. The Spirit wasinexorable, and they were compelled to place their tails on the blockand to behold them amputated. 

The punishment being in part performed, the Spirit next bethoughthimself of a gift which should prove to them "a scourge and afflictionadequate to their offences. " It was to convert the tails thus loppedoff into vain, noisy, chattering, laughing creatures, whose facesshould he like the sky in the Moon of Plants, and whose hearts shouldbe treacherous, fickle, and inconstant; yet, strange to relate, whoshould be loved above all other things on the earth or in the skies. For them should life often be hazarded--reputation, fame, and virtue, often forfeited--pain and ignominy incurred. They were to be as aburden placed on the shoulders of an already overloaded man; and yet, a burden he would rather strive to carry than abandon. He furtherappointed that they should retain the frisky nature of the materialfrom which they were made, and they have retained it to this day. 

The Great Spirit, deeming that the trouble wherewith he had providedthe red man would not sufficiently vex and punish him, determined toadd another infliction, whose sting, though not so potent and irksome, should be without any alleviation whatever. He sent great swarms ofmusquitoes. Deprived of tails, by which flies could be brushed away atthe pleasure of the wearers, the Indians dragged out for a long time amiserable existence. The musquitoes stung them, and their tailsteased them. The little insects worried them continually, and theirfrisky companions, the women, were any thing but a cup of composingdrink. At length the Great Spirit, seeing how the poor Indians wereafflicted, mercifully withdrew the greater part of the musquitoes, leaving a few as a memorial of the pest which had formerly annoyedthem. The Kickapoos petitioned that the women should also be takenaway from them, and their old appendages returned--but the GreatSpirit answered, that women were a necessary evil, and must remain. 

THE HILL OF FECUNDITY. 

A TRADITION OF THE MINNATAREES. 

At the distance of a sun's journey from the creek, called in thetongue of the white people the Knife Creek--which divides the largerand smaller towns of the Minnatarees from each other by a valley notmuch above four bowshots across--there are two little hills, situateat a small distance from each other. These hills are famous, throughout all the nations of the west, for the faculty they oncepossessed of imparting relief to such women as resorted to them forthe purpose of crying and lamenting for the circumstance of theirhaving no children. It was there, that, if they were careful to sayproper prayers, and to use the proper lamentations, the reproach ofbarrenness was removed; and those, whose arms had never enfolded ababe of their own, whose ears had never listened to the innocentprattle of children born of their own bodies, might enjoy thatgreatest of human happinesses; might feel the exquisite pleasurewhich arises, when the little creatures press to their knees, or drawthe food of life from their bosoms. 

Once upon a time, many years ago, there was among the Minnatarees awoman, whose name was Namata-washta, or the Pretty Tree. It had beenher misfortune to be married, when little more than a child, to a veryproud and bad man; who soon came to use her with great cruelty andinjustice. She was a very strict and devout worshipper of the GreatSpirit, and never failed, whether in the field or in the cabin, bynight or by day, to offer up prayers and a portion of everyacquisition to the Being who bestowed it upon her. The Great Spiritsaw her goodness, and loved her. He made her corn to grow much largerthan that of any other woman in the village; and the produce of hergarden was always much earlier and better. But she was a barren woman, and thence resulted her misery. For seven weary seasons had she livedin the lodge of her husband; and while his seven other wives had eachchildren at her knee, crying, "My mother!" there was none to addressher by that tender name, and to lisp in childish tones its delight, when she returned from the labours of the field of maize--and tobestow its innocent caresses upon her after the separations whichunavoidably take place in forest life. Thence arose the extremeharshness of her husband, and the continued sneers and gibes of thewives who had been blest with offspring. The good Namata-washta boretheir ill usage for a long time without repining; but, at length, theoft-repeated cruelties of her husband and the incessant insults of hercompanions became so painful, that she was wont to fly from them tothe solitude of the forest. 

One evening, she wandered out from the cabin of her husband until shecame to the nearest of the two small hills, of which I have beentelling my brother. Upon this hill she seated herself, and wasoccupied in bewailing her fatal misfortune of barrenness, and inpraying the Great Spirit to avert it, when some one whispered at hershoulder, "Namata-washta!"

Looking up, she beheld a tall woman clothed in a long and flowing robeof white goat-skin; her mocassins were of a blood-red colour; her eyeswere black as the shell of the butter-nut; her hair, which was alsoblack, was dressed with gay flowers. After surveying the weepingNamata-washta for some time in silence, and with an appearance of muchcompassion, she said to her in a gentle voice, "Woman, why art thouweeping?"

"I am weeping, " replied the poor Indian woman, "because I have bornemy husband no children!"

"And therefore thou weepest, deluded and infatuated woman! Rathershouldst thou rejoice that thou hast not contributed to swell theamount of human suffering. Happier far is she who has added nothing, in respect of children, to the sum of human misery, than she who hasbecome a mother, to see her offspring perish in the strife ofwarriors, or of hunger, or wretchedness, or wasting disease. That thouhast given birth to no heirs of misery should afford thee joy, ratherthan sorrow, Namata-washta!"

"But therefore I am held of little account, and of no value in thehouse of my husband. My place is usurped by those who have children;the other wives of my husband demand and exercise the right to imposehard and disgraceful burdens upon me, because I am barren. My husbandbeats me with blows, his wives assail me with taunts andreproaches--even the children of the village, as I pass them at theirsports, cry out, 'A barren woman!' And thus do they incessantly worryme, till I am compelled to fly to the wilderness for rest and peace!"

"Wouldst thou become the mother of children, Namata-washta?"

"I would. "

"Thou shalt have thy wish. Listen to my words. The hill upon whichthou art sitting was once a beautiful woman, as its neighbour, theother and larger hill, was a man and a warrior. The woman, who is thehill upon which we now stand, was the first woman that ever lived, andthe first that ever became a mother. I will tell thee, Namata-washta, who she was. When the Great Spirit determined to people the Islandwith human beings, he bade them spring out of the earth, as maize andvegetables do at this day; and bade each take the quality and natureof the soil in which he germinated. The red man forced his head out ofa rich and hardy prairie surrounded by lofty trees; the white man tookroot in a stony and crabbed hill: and both have retained their firstnatures. 

"The woman who became this hill sprung up in a deep and very fat soil, and thence became very fruitful--the most fruitful woman ever known. She came out of the earth on the first day of the Moon of Buffaloes, and, ere it hung in the skies like a bended bow, she had a child ather breast. Every moon, she bestowed upon her husband a son or adaughter, and these sons and daughters were all equally fertile withtheir mother. The Great Spirit, seeing that if mankind continued thusprolific, the Island would soon be overstocked with inhabitants, determined to take away from the pair the breath he had given them, and with it the power of unlimited procreation and fecundity impartedto their descendants. He changed them into these two hills. But, thatthe faculty they possessed in so remarkable a degree might not be lostto the world, but might continue to be dispensed to those who wantedit, and should seek it in a proper manner, he said to the hill, whichwas the fruitful woman: 'Whenever a barren woman approaches thee, lamenting in sincerity her hard fate, and duly supplicating mercy, thou shalt listen to her with pity and compassion. I endow thee withpower to grant her prayers. Thou shalt bid her return to her villageand repair to the couch of her husband. When twelve suns shall havepassed, she shall return to thee soon after the dawning of day. Upon anear approach to thee, she shall see a child, perhaps two children, very light of foot, and whose height shall scarce exceed that of asquirrel. She must approach them, but they will run from her, nor willher utmost speed enable her to overtake them. They will fly to thyprotection, nor must thou deny it--they must be received into thybosom. The chill of their cold hiding place will destroy them, andtheir souls will enter into the womb of the suppliant woman, and shewill become a fruitful and honoured mother. '

"These were the words of the Great Spirit; and often has the power heimparted to that hill been felt to the taking away the reproach fromthe barren women. Namata-washta, go thou, and do likewise. Follow thedirections I have given thee, and, if the having children will renderthee happy, thou shalt be happy--if to be the mother of a morenumerous offspring than any wife in thy nation may make thee anhonoured woman, thou shalt be honoured. "

With these words, the Spirit departed from before the eyes ofNamata-washta, who never beheld her again. She returned to the cabinof her husband, obeyed the words of the stranger, and saw the resultstake place which had been foretold. She became the mother of a morenumerous progeny than any woman of her nation, took the lead in thelodge of her husband, and was more beloved by him than any other ofhis wives. She became as much honoured by the people as she had beenbefore despised by them, and died with the reputation of having beenthe greatest benefactress of the nation that had lived since the daysof the two wise boys who discovered the upper world[A]. 

[Footnote A: See the Tradition vol. I. , p. 201. ]

The faculty which this hill possessed of imparting fruitfulness wasretained till the wickedness of the Minnatarees became so crying, that the Great Spirit, deeming that there would be full enough ofthese bad people, if left to their natural means of increase, withdrewit, and has never restored it. 

TALES OF A WHITE MAN'S GHOST. 

I. GARANGA. 

If the feet of my brother from the distant land have ever carried himto the spot where the Oswegatchie joins with the river called by thepeople of his nation the St. Lawrence, he must have seen a broken wallof stone, which that same people built very soon after they had takenpossession of the High Rock, and made it the great village of the palefaces. At that time the red men of the wilderness were not very welldisposed towards the strangers who had come among them, viewing themas they do wolves, and panthers, and catamounts, which are very muchin the way of Indians, and therefore they put them out of it as soonas possible. At length, the great chief or governor at the City of theHigh Rock, finding that the men whom he left within the big walls hehad built on the Oswegatchie were every moment in danger of beingmassacred by their fierce and warlike neighbours, the Iroquois, recalled his soldiers to his wing from their perilous flight, and badethem soar no more in that dangerous direction. So the high walls hehad thrown up to serve as a barrier against the forest warrior fell tothe earth, and were never rebuilt. The grass grew up over them, thewinds whistled among them, and many spirits, white and red, came andtook up their residence in the corners and recesses of the desertedhabitation. 

Among the white spirits that sojourned in the ruined fort there wasone who was very kind to the Indians, and often held long talks withthem, though they never saw him. Often, when the sun had retired tohis place of rest beyond the western mountains--for he would only holdconversation when darkness covered the earth--the Indians would repairto the outside of the ruins, and, calling upon the "Good LittleFellow, " he would come and entertain them, until the purple and greytints of morning shone in the eastern sky, with tales of his own palerace, and of that other, the red, as connected with them. The eagerlisteners would be told of cabins in which the Great Spirit wasworshipped, that were twice the flight of an arrow broad, and threetimes its flight in length, and so high as to be beyond the daring ofthe bird of morning. And he taught them to wonder much, and laugh alittle, by telling them that when men went to worship the Being inwhose honour and for whose worship the cabin was built, they dressedthemselves in their most gorgeous apparel, and put on long robes, painted to look like the gay birds of the forest, and emulating in thebrightness of their dyes the bow in the clouds after a shower of rain. When the Indians laughed at this, he told them that the Great Spirit, the white people thought, never listened to those who were not welldressed, and "looked smart. " He said the white people were not likethe Indians; they only worshipped the Master of Life on the seventhday of the week and a few other days, whereas the Indians worshippedhim every day--which was much the best way, he thought. And he toldthe Indians many other things, respecting the white people living overthe Great Salt Lake, some of which made them think they were verywise, and valiant, and prudent, but the most of what he said went toprove them great fools. And when he told them that the men weeded thecorn, while the women sat doing nothing, or "galloping from cabin tocabin, " the Indians, who had become so well acquainted with him thatthey could speak with freedom, bade him return and tell his people howmuch better the Indians managed these things. 

Once upon a time, as he sat repeating his tales to the wonderingIndian visiters, he said to them: Did you ever hear about Garanga, the beautiful bird that was taken from her perch in the cabin of theWhite Crane, the great warrior of the Iroquois, by a man of my nation?

The Indians all answered, No; and so they would have answered had theyheard it twenty times, for he varied his stories every time herepeated them, as the pale faces always do; so they were sure to havea new story though it had an old name. Then I will tell it you, saidhe, and he began as follows. 

There came to this fort, while it was yet standing in all its pride, ayoung chief of my nation to be its governor. He was a mere youth to beentrusted with so high and responsible an office, but, though young inyears, he was old in understanding. He was also very beautiful to lookupon, and his stature was of the tallest of the sons of the earth. TheIndian maidens that visited the fort with their fathers and brothersbestowed much praise upon his fine and manly form, and their friendsof the other sex did the same upon his courageous spirit, and hissuperiority in those exercises in which one must excel if he wouldcommand the esteem, and excite the awe, of the red men of the forest. The men likened him for swiftness to the deer, and for agility to themountain-cat, and for strength to the bear, and for courage to allthat is courageous; the women compared his skin to the water-lily, andhis eyes to the blue sky when it is bluest, and his hair to the silkentassels of ripened corn, and his step to the stag's, and his voice tothe song-sparrow's. Whatever is beautiful among the works of naturewas brought in by comparison, to express their admiration of thegraceful and gallant stranger. 

Among the bright-eyed maidens who visited the fort, as they said, tobuy beads and gay toys, but in reality to gaze upon the noble chief, was the beautiful Garanga, the daughter of one of the principalwarriors of the Iroquois. The first time she saw him her little bosomwas filled with the flames of love, but she never spoke of it to anyone. While the other maidens sat repeating the soft words he hadwhispered in their ears, for he had the forked tongue which the whiteman always possesses, the mild and lovely daughter of the White Cranesaid nothing, but sighed. Her heart had been taken captive at firstsight, by the handsome stranger--her little bosom was filled with lovefor the noble warrior. Nor were the charms of the maiden unmarked byhim she loved. He had singled her out among all the dusky maidens, insome degree for her beauty, but more for her softness and her modesty, and had asked himself what one among the women of his own clime wassuperior to her in all that would give delight to him who should makeher his own. His heart answered, None. So, learning from the tell-taleeyes of the beautiful maiden, that she was entirely willing to becomethe bird of his bower, his companion, his wife, he asked her of herfather. The chief, proud to be connected with so distinguished awarrior, gave her to him, without hesitation, and she became his wife. 

They were married in the Harvest-Moon, and a great feast was given, which made glad the hearts of both white and red. There was a greatfiring of cannon, and the fire-eater was given to the Indians, whobecame very drunk, and made the woods ring again with their boisterousmirth. Before the month in which the Indians harvest their maize hadcome round again, there was a young bird of the sex of its father, inthe house of the governor. Ere the child had lived a moon, the fathersaid to the mother, thoughtfully but kindly, "Dost thou love thy husband?"

"The Great Spirit only knows how much, and how deeply, " answered thefond wife. 

"Hast thou joy in the bright eyes, and smiling cheeks, and lovelylaugh, of our little son?"

"I have exceeding joy in our son, " answered the mother, pressing herinfant with a warm embrace to her bosom. "When I look upon his youngface, and his little laugh rings in mine ear, and when I mark thebright light of his eyes shining like stars upon me, my heart leapslike a deer stricken to death by the shaft of the hunter. And oftenwhile thou art slumbering by my side, do I lie sleepless, my eyesfilled with tears, to think that he may die. And yet I have exceedingjoy in our child. "

"Does it not grieve thee to think that thou, and he, and I, may notmeet together in the land of souls?"

"May not meet together in the land of souls? Why? Thou hast sent anarrow to my heart, my husband. Why are the gates of death to separatethose who loved each other in life?"

"Our gods are not the same, and the abodes of the souls of the whiteman and the red man are far apart. "

"Why wilt thou not come to the land which holds the spirits of thedeparted of _my_ race? Thou art a lover of the chace, and oftenpreferrest the pastime of hunting the deer, and the bear, and thepanther, through the wild forest, to reposing in the arms of thyGaranga. In the land--_my_ land of souls--thou wilt enjoy thyfavourite pursuit. There thou canst course the stag through flowerymeads, and over grassy hills, and know nothing of the bitter obstacleswhich impede the path of an earth-borne hunter. There will be apleasant cabin built for us beside the placid river of that land--andupon the green banks, beneath the wide-spreading shade of theevergreen larch and cypress, shall our rest be appointed. Come to _my_heaven, my beloved husband!"

"Garanga! my beautiful Garanga! mother of my son! it may not be!"replied the husband. "The Christian's heaven is unlike the heaven ofthe infidel, nor does he picture to himself such delights as thou andthy nation fancy are to be the portion of the brave warrior andskilful hunter--of all who do their duty faithfully, and according tothe best of their power. "

"Then I will go with thee to thy heaven, for I will not be separatedfrom thee!" replied the fond wife. "Teach me how I shall worship _thy_Master, for alas, I know not his ways. "

So the beautiful Garanga forsook the religion of her own nation; andhung round her neck the silver cross and rosary, which marked thebelief of her beloved husband. In vain did her father and his peoplesolicit her to quit her husband, and return to them, and to the beliefin which she had been bred. Her favourite brother, Mecumeh, came, andbesought her, by all the motives of national pride and family vanity, to return to her people in this world, that she might not be severedfrom them in the land of souls. But the young Garanga, whom herhusband called Marguerite, after a woman of his own nation, was boundby a threefold cord--her love to her husband, to her son, and to herreligion. Finding that he could not succeed by persuasion, the cunningMecumeh had recourse to stratagem. The husband was in the habit ofgoing down the river often, on fishing excursions, and, when hereturned, he would fire his signal gun--and his wife would hasten, with her little son, to meet him on the shore, and to place the fondkiss of welcome on his cheek. 

On one occasion he had been gone longer than usual, by the space ofnear a moon. Garanga was filled with apprehensions, natural enoughto one fondly loving, and at a time when imminent dangers andhair-breadth escapes were of every-day occurrence--when it was knownthat the people of her nation, displeased with her husband for drawingher away from the faith of her fathers, were studying deep plans ofrevenge. She had sat in the lofty tower which overlooked the greaterpart of the surrounding country, and watched for the returning canoetill the last beam of day had faded away from the waters, and that itsgreat star had ever been, could only be gathered from a bright beamthat lingered about the folds of the western clouds. The deepeningshadows of twilight played tricks with her imagination, and shefrequently saw things, which, to her, appeared the object her heartsought, but which were mere creations of a fancy moving at thesuggestions of hope. Once she was startled by a water-fowl, which, asit skimmed along the surface of the water, imaged to her fancy thelight canoe impelled by her husband's vigorous arm. Again she heardthe leap of the heavy Muskalongi, and the splashing waters sounded toher like the first dash of the oar. That passed away, anddisappointment and tears followed. The little boy was beside her; hebore the same name as his father, and inherited the warlikedisposition and love of daring which distinguished him among hiscompanions. Born and bred among men of war, he understood the use ofthe bow and the musket; courage and hardihood seemed to be hisinstinct, and danger his element, and battles, wounds, and the deedsof the valiant, were household words with him. He laughed at hismother's fears, but, in spite of the boy's ridicule, theystrengthened till apprehension seemed reality, and she shed tears ofsorrow for the fancied death of her beloved husband. 

Suddenly the sound of the signal gun broke on the stillness of night. Both mother and son sprang on their feet with a cry of joy, and werepressing, hand in hand, towards the outer gate, when a sentinel orsoldier, appointed to keep it, stopped them to remind them that it washer husband's order, that no one should venture without the wallsafter sunset. She, however, insisted on passing, and telling thesoldier that she would answer to her husband for his breach of orders, she passed the outer barrier. Young Louis held up his bow and arrowbefore the sentinel, saying gaily, "I am my mother's body guard, youknow. " The sentinel saw the tears of the affectionate wife, gave way, and permitted her to pass. 

The distance from the fort to the place where the commander of thewhite men usually moored his canoe was trifling and quickly passed. Garanga and her little son flew along the narrow path, and soonreached the shore. But, alas! instead of the face she loved, and theform she fondly expected to press to her throbbing bosom, she beheldthe fierce Mecumeh. At a little distance from him were his companions. Entreaties and remonstrance were alike in vain. On the part ofGaranga resistance was not attempted, but it was made with all thespirit of a warrior by young Louis, who snatched a knife from thegirdle of one of the Indians, and attempted to plunge it into thebosom of Mecumeh, as he was roughly attempting to bind his wampum-beltover Garanga's mouth to deaden her screams. The uncle wrested theknife from him, and smiled proudly on him, as if he recognized in thebrave boy a scion from his own noble and warlike stock. "You will bethe eagle of your tribe, " said he, "which none will deem strange sinceshe that gave you birth was a daughter of the most valiant chief thatroams the wilds. The child of the panther will have the spirit of thepanther, nor need the young bear be taught to climb trees, nor theeaglet to fly. "

The Indians had two canoes: Garanga was conveyed to one, Louis to theother; and both canoes were rowed into the Oswegatchie, and up thestream as fast as it was possible to impel them against the current ofthe river. 

Not a word nor a cry escaped the boy: he seemed intent on somepurpose; and, when the canoe approached near the shore, he drew fromhis head his fox-skin cap, and threw it so skilfully that it lodgedwhere he meant it should--on the branch of a tree which projected overthe water. There was a long white feather in the cap. The Indians hadobserved the boy's movements; they held up their oars for a moment, and seemed to consult whether they should return and remove the cap, but, after a moment, they again dashed their oars in the water, andproceeded forward. They continued rowing for a few miles, and thenlanded, hid their canoes behind some trees on the river bank, andplunged into the woods with their prisoners. It was the intention ofthe Indians to return to their canoes in the morning; and they had notproceeded far from the shore, when they kindled a fire, and preparedsome food, and offered a share of it to Garanga and Louis. The poorGaranga had no mind to eat, but Louis ate as heartily as if he hadbeen within the walls of the fort. When the Indians had fed, theystretched themselves before the fire, but not till they had taken theprecaution to bind Garanga to a tree, and to compel Louis to lie downin the arms of the brother of his mother. Neither of the prisonersclosed their eyes that night. Louis kept his fixed on his mother. Shesat upright beside an oak tree; the cord was fastened around herwaist, and bound around the tree, which had been blasted by lightning. The bright moon poured its beams through the naked branches upon herface, convulsed with the agony of despair and fear. With one hand sheheld to her lips the now loved symbol of the faith of her husband--thecrucifix; the other grasped another symbol--the rosary. The sight ofhis beloved mother in such a situation stirred up daring thoughts inthe bosom of the heroic boy, but he lay powerless in the naked andbrawny arms of the brother of his mother. He tried to disengagehimself, but, at the slightest movement, Mecumeh, though stillsleeping, seemed conscious, and strained him closer to him. At lastthe strong sleep that, in the depth of the night, steeps the senses inutter forgetfulness, overpowered him--his arms relaxed their hold, anddropped lifeless beside him, and left Louis free. 

The boy rose cautiously--looked for a moment on the Indians, andassured himself that they all slept profoundly. He then possessedhimself of Mecumeh's knife, which lay at his feet, and severed thecord which bound his mother to the tree. Neither of them spoke aword--but with the least possible sound they resumed the way by whichthey had come from the shore--Louis with the confidence, and Garangawith the faint hope, of reaching it before they were overtaken. 

It may easily be imagined by those who hear it how often the poormother, timid as a fawn, was startled by the evening breeze stirringthe leaves, or the flight of a bird from among the boughs of thetrees, but the boy bounded forward with all the courage of hisrace(1), as if there were neither fear nor danger in the world. 

[_Illustration: Designed & Etched by W. H. Brooks, A. R. H. A. _

The Boy rose cautiously from the Warrior's grasp. 

_page 204_. 

_London, Published by Colburn & Bentley, April 1830. _]

They had nearly attained the margin of the river where Louis meant tolaunch one of the canoes, and drop down the current, when the Indianyell, resounding through the woods, struck on their ears. They weremissed, pursued, and escape was impossible. Garanga, her bosom filledwith overmastering fear, sunk to the ground. Nothing could check thecareer of Louis. "On!--on, mother!" he cried, "to the shore!" Sherose, and instinctively followed her boy. The sound of pursuit camenearer and nearer. They reached the shore, and there beheld threecanoes coming swiftly up the river. Animated with hope, Louis screamedthe watchword of the garrison, and was answered by his father's voice. 

The possibility of escape, and the certain approach of her husband, infused new life into Garanga. "Your father cannot see us, " she said, "as we stand here in the shade of the trees; hide yourself in thatthicket, I will plunge into the water. " Louis crouched under thebushes, and was completely hidden by an overhanging grape-vine, whilehis mother advanced a few steps into the water where she could bedistinctly seen. A shout from the canoes apprised her that she wasrecognised, and, at the same moment, the Indians, who had now reachedthe shore, rent the air with their cries of rage and defiance. Theystood for a moment as if deliberating what next to do; Mecumehmaintained an undaunted and resolved air, but, with his followers, whodid not possess the courage of their race, the aspect of armed men, and a force of thrice their number, had the effect to paralyze theirsouls. They fled. He looked after them, cried "Shame!" and then with adesperate yell leaped into the water, and stood beside Garanga. Thecanoes were now within a few yards--he put his knife to herbosom--"The daughter of the White Crane, " he said, "should have diedby the judgment of our warriors, but now by her brother's hand shemust perish:" and he drew back his arm to give vigour to the fatalstroke, when an arrow from the bow of the brave boy pierced hisbreast, and he fell insensible at his sister's side. A moment afterGaranga was in the arms of her husband, and Louis, with his bowunstrung, bounded from the shore, and was received in his father'scanoe; and the wild shores rung with the acclamations of the soldiers, while his father's tears were poured like rain upon his cheek. 

Nor did the fierce Mecumeh die. He was conveyed to the fort, his woundwas healed, and he lived to be reckoned among the aged men of hisnation. The affectionate Garanga prevailed upon him to embrace thereligion which had become her own, so that they who lived happilytogether in this life were not separated by the hand of death, butrepaired to the heaven of white men together. 

NOTE. 

(1) _Courage of his race. _--p. 205. 

The North American Indian knows nothing of fear, he is perfectlyinsensible to danger. I am not now referring to the wonderfulfortitude he displays while his enemies are exercising their cunningand dexterity in devising, and carrying into effect, torments whichbaffle description, but to the quality which is denominated courageamong civilised nations. Tecumseh was one of the bravest men that everlived, so was the celebrated Mackintosh. They must, however, beallowed to display their valour in their own peculiar manner. I shallfurther illustrate their remarkable and peculiar use of this qualityby referring to some well attested instances of almost superhumandaring. The first is of a young Andirondack or Algonquin chief namedPiskaret. The story will further illustrate the mode of warfare usedin these bloody expeditions. 

"Piskaret set out for the country of the Five Nations, about the timethe snow began to melt, with the precaution of putting the hinder partof his snow-shoes forward, that if any should happen upon hisfootsteps, they might think he was gone the contrary way; and, forfurther security, went along the ridges and high grounds, where thesnow was melted, that his track might be often lost; when he came nearone of the villages of the Five Nations, he hid himself till night, and then entered a cabin, while every body was fast asleep, murderedthe whole family, and carried their scalps into his lurking-place. Thenext day, the people of the village searched for the murderer in vain. The following night he murdered all he found in another cabin. Theinhabitants next day searched likewise in vain for the murderer; butthe third night a watch was kept in every house. Piskaret, in thenight, bundled up the scalps he had taken the two former nights, tocarry, as the proof of his victory, and then stole privately fromhouse to house, till at last he found an Indian nodding, who was uponthe watch in one of the houses; he knocked this man on the head: but, as this alarmed the rest, he was forced immediately to fly. He was, however, under no great concern from the pursuit, being more swift offoot than any Indian then living. He let his pursuers come near himfrom time to time, and then would dart from them. This he did withdesign to tire them out with the hopes of overtaking him. As it beganto grow dark, he hid himself, and his pursuers stopped to rest. They, not being apprehensive of any danger from a single man, soon fellasleep, and the bold Piskaret observing this, knocked them all on thehead, and carried away their scalps with the rest. "--_Colden's Historyof the Five Nations, Lond. _ 1747, p. 26. 

Another instance which I shall relate of courage and intrepidity willat the same time show the abolition of a bloody rite said to have beenpeculiar to the Pawnee Loups, of making propitiatory sacrifices toVenus, or the Great Star. 

"An Ietan woman, who was brought captive into the village, was doomedto the Great Star, by the warrior, whose property she had become bythe fate of war. She underwent the usual preparations, and, on theappointed day, was led to the cross, amidst a great concourse ofpeople, as eager, perhaps, as their civilized fellow-men, to witnessthe horrors of an execution. The victim was bound to the cross withthongs of skin, and the usual ceremonies being performed, her dread ofa more terrible death was about to be terminated by the tomahawk andthe arrow. At this critical juncture, Petalesharoo (son of the KnifeChief), stepped forward into the area, and, in an hurried but firmmanner, declared that it was his father's wish to abolish thissacrifice; that, for himself, he had presented himself before them, for the purpose of laying down his life upon the spot, or of releasingthe victim. He then cut the cords which bound her to the cross, carried her swiftly through the crowd to a horse, which he presentedto her, and having mounted another himself, he conveyed her beyond thereach of immediate pursuit; when, after having supplied her with food, and admonishing her to make the best of her way to her own nation, which was at the distance of at least four hundred miles, he wasconstrained to return to his village. The emancipated Ietan had, however, the good fortune, on her journey of the subsequent day, tomeet with a war-party of her own people, by whom she was conveyed toher family in safety. 

"Another display of the firmness and determination of the youngwarrior was required to abolish this sacrifice, it is to be hoped forever. The succeeding spring, a warrior, who had captured a fineSpanish boy, vowed to sacrifice him to the Great Star, and accordinglyplaced him under the care of the magi for that purpose. 

"The Knife Chief, learning the determination of the warrior, consultedwith his son, respecting the best means of preventing a repetition ofthe horrible ceremony. 'I will rescue the boy, ' said Petalesharoo, 'asa warrior should, by force;' but the Knife Chief, unwilling that hisson should again expose himself to a danger so imminent as that whichhe had once encountered in this cause, hoped to compel the warrior toexchange his victim for a large quantity of merchandize, which hewould endeavour to obtain with that view. For this purpose, herepaired to Mr. Pappan, who happened to be in the village for thepurposes of trade, and communicated to him his intentions. Mr. Pappangenerously contributed a considerable quantity of merchandize, andmuch was added by himself, by Petalesharoo, and other Indians. 

"All this treasure was laid in a heap together, in the lodge of theKnife Chief, who thereupon summoned the warrior before him. The chiefarmed himself with his war-club, and explained the object of his call, commanding the warrior to accept the merchandize, and yield up theboy, or prepare for instant death. The warrior refused, and the chiefwaved his club in the air towards the warrior. 'Strike!' saidPetalesharoo, who stood near to support his father; 'I will meet thevengeance of his friends. ' But the more prudent and politic chiefadded a few more articles to the mass of merchandize, in order to givethe warrior another opportunity of acquiescing without forfeiting hisword. 

"This expedient succeeded; the goods were reluctantly accepted, andthe boy was liberated. "--_James's Account of an Expedition to theRocky Mountains_, ii, 81. 

II. THE WARNING OF TEKARRAH. 

It was at early nightfall, on a warm and beautiful day, in the monthwhich the white man calls June, but which the red man calls the HotMoon, that a little fleet, consisting of three small bateaux, fittedout at Montreal, and conveying a body of pale-faced warriors, underthe command of one whose hair was white and whose face was seamed withscars, entered the mouth of the Oswego[A]. This petty armament wasjoined at the beginning of the following season of sleep by a greatnumber of canoes that contained the traders, artizans, and labourers, with their families, together with such tools and utensils as had beendeemed necessary for the commencement of a new settlement, which itwas the design of the chief of the strangers to establish on the southside of Lake Ontario. They brought with them, besides a great quantityof provisions, the usual articles wherewith to traffic with thepossessors of the soil. The Oswego--as my red brothers know--isprincipally formed by the confluence of the outlets of those numerouslesser lakes that diversify and adorn the vast space of country thatlies between the Great Ocean and the Lake of Storms[B]. Its course isnorthward, and, after whirling and foaming along the narrow andobstructed channel that nature seems to have grudgingly lent for itspassage, it finds repose in the small harbour bearing its name, whichmingles its contributions with the placid but mighty waters of thewest. 

[Footnote A: Rapid river. ]

[Footnote B: Lake Superior. ]

On the eastern part of this harbour, and on a site sufficientlyelevated to command its entrance, this party of daring adventurersbegan to construct a defence against the attacks of your race. Beforethe frosts of winter had robbed the surrounding forest of its foliage, or compelled the wild-duck to seek a retreat in the secluded waters ofthe warm south, or the deer had gathered to their couch of leaves inthe thicket, a rude but effectual barrier to hostile attack was raisedand completed. The intervening summer had been passed by the artisansand labourers, not only in the building of the fortress, but in theerection of such cabins and lodging-places for warriors within itsenclosure, as were deemed requisite for the protection of its inmatesfrom the piercing winds, and cold rains, and chilling frosts, ofwinter. In the mean time the traders had been diligently andsuccessfully employed in exchanging their beads and trinkets, theirknives, blankets, and strong waters, with the men of the adjacentwoods, for fish and venison to supply the immediate wants of thewarriors, and furs and skins to send to the land of their birth. TheIndians, with whom this intercourse and barter was carried on, were ofthe tribe of the Onandagas. They inhabited a valley as fair as the sunever shone upon. From a point in the interior--distant more than asun's journey to the south, this capacious valley opens and widens asit advances northwardly--presenting, in its general outline, animmense space, with three sides, the base of which, for the distanceof half a sun's travel, is washed by the waters of the beautifulOntario. As it recedes from the lake, its surface rises gradually tothe point or tip, whence, did the strength of vision and the shape ofthe earth permit, the eye might command a complete survey of thevalley, and of the inland ocean that spreads before it. On eitherside, it is bounded by steep and high hills that verge towards eachother as they stretch to the south, and whose elevation increases, until they are lost among a range of lofty mountains, at thetermination of the valley. 

At this precise point, there gushes forth, from beneath a huge andprecipitous rock, a large spring of pure and clear water, cool andrefreshing as the dark forest through which it glides, and which, after a sinuous course along the centre of the dell, receiving as itflows the contributions of numerous lesser springs and streams, communicates its waters to the foaming current of the Oswego. Whetherthis singular but beautiful region now presents the form in which itwas first fashioned by the Master of Life, or has since received theshape and appearance it bears from the disruption of some mighty massof waters, from frightful earthquakes, or some other great convulsionof nature--neither I nor my red brothers can say. Yet does it appearplain that no convulsive heavings of an earthquake could have left itsoutline or its surface so smooth or regular. No bursting of watersfrom the top of a mountain (a mountain too, having no capacious bosomfor its reception) could have borne away such an immense body of earthas must have been scooped out from between the high and wide-spreadinghills. 

But, if this region was singular in its formation, it was not less soin the character and manners of the tribe by which it was peopled. They claimed direct descent from the Great Spirit--the Creator of theworld. Regarding themselves as his offspring, they deemed themselvesthe especial objects of his fatherly care. Deeply possessed with asense of this superhuman relation, it will not be matter of surpriseto my brothers that they should refer to it all the more importantevents of their lives, and that it should impart its influence even tothe minuter circumstances of their daily intercourse both withstrangers and with each other. From their belief of their relationshipto the Good Spirit, they were a good people. Hence they were, according to their crude notions of religion, strictly a religiouspeople; and, although they worshipped the supposed founder of theirrace, rather with the qualified adoration that one pays to a goodfather watching over, and guiding from his dwelling among the stars, the destinies of his earthly children; and, although they wereinsensible to the deep and humble devotion, and piety, which belong tothe worshippers of the same Being in the land of the pale-faces; yetwas their superstition free from much of the grossness in which theidolatry of the people of the wilderness is usually buried. Theiridols and images were indeed numerous and of rude workmanship, but, like the images before whom kneel no small portion of the people ofthe land which was mine, they were professed to be worshipped only asthe visible representations of invisible spirits. Human sacrificeswere not known among them--for they rightly held that the Great Spiritwas a kind and affectionate _Father_, and could not delight in theshedding of the blood of his children, or seeing them sacrificed onhis peaceful altars. They had numerous fasts and feasts, but they wereaccompanied by no cruel rites. Those who presided over the religiousceremonies and observances of this simple people, united, as is usualamong most, if not all unenlightened nations, the character and officeof priest and prophet--of expounders of visions and dreams--and hadthe ordering of fasts in the acceptable manner, and at the propertime. They were few in number, and universally revered, beloved, andfeared. Their influence and authority were felt in every cabin in thenation. No restraint being imposed upon them, as it is upon thepriests in the City of the Rock, they had no inclination to impose anyunnatural restraint upon others. Assailed by no external temptationsto indulgence themselves, their prohibitions were limited to the veryfew gratifications that are inconsistent with the habits of Indianlife. Avarice was a passion of which neither they nor their tribe had, as yet, felt the influence. All things were in common; and individualappropriation of property was unknown. The "strong waters" of thewhite man, the fire which hath eaten into the bowels of the race ofthe red man, had not yet diffused their poison, and drunkenness was avice of which these people did not understand the meaning. A moralinfluence over the minds of their tribe was the only distinction towhich the priests of Onondaga had aspired. This influence they soughtto attain, not by inflicting penance upon the people, but bypretending to immediate intercourse and communication with the GreatSpirit. Reverencing that Spirit, these good sons of the forest couldnot forbear to respect the channels through which his wise andbenevolent communications were made. 

Not only did these priests of the Manitou direct the devotions of thepeople, and convey to them the responses of the same mighty Being intimes of peril, but won their love and confidence by professing toheal their maladies. Identified with them in their ordinary pursuits, they were, on common occasions, distinguished from them in exteriordecoration only by a bone which they wore on the left arm, like abracelet, just above the wrist, and by the method of arranging theirhair. On their bracelets were carved, in rude outline, therepresentations of certain beasts; and on that of the eldest of theprophets were other cabalistic inscriptions, of which none but thewearers themselves could penetrate the meaning. Their hair, instead ofhanging loosely over their foreheads and shoulders, as was usual withtheir tribe, in common with the other red men of the forest, wascollected into a roll at the top of the head, and tied round with astring of red wampum, its extremities being suffered to fall on eitherside, as nature or accident might dispose it. When they wouldintercede with the Great Spirit, or know his will by divination, theyassumed other dresses; the skins of bears or buffaloes, or mantlescuriously woven of feathers. They usually dwelt together on a sort ofconsecrated ground, set apart for their special accommodation, andwhich was as unlike the rest of the valley, as the valley itself wasunlike the ordinary conformation of the earth. The allotted ground, orspace set apart for their use, was called _The Prophets' Plain_, andwas situated on a projecting declivity of the western side of thisbeautiful glen, whose banks, although they presented, as they openedand widened to the north, a regular outline, were, nevertheless, varied in their actual surface by occasional deviations andsinuosities, arising as well from the unexplainable curvatures of itsoriginal structure, as from the narrow, deep ravines, that had beenworn by the autumn floods and perennial streamlets from the adjacenthills. In like manner the surface of the bed of the valley was subjectto frequent inequalities, produced, perhaps, by the nature of the soilon which it rested. It was formed of a soft stone and a hard stone. Where the latter prevailed, the surface was usually more elevated andundulating than where the former was found; and of that descriptionwas the spot appropriated to the prophets of Onondaga. It was situatedabout half a day's journey up the valley from the lake, and wassufficiently elevated above the circumjacent level to command a viewof the broad bosom of the Ontario over the tops of the forest. Alongits outer extremity glided the beautiful stream of the glen. Upon oneside of the plain, where it was united to the hills, were the cabinsof the prophets. 

The whole range of the valley, including its bed, and steep loftysides, was overspread with a dark and umbrageous forest. With thiscircumstance, the few scattered patches appropriated to thecultivation of maize, and "the openings, " as they are denominated inthe western world, present a problem of no very easy solution. Theyare unique in the vegetable kingdom, being midway between thenakedness of a prairie and the thick gloom of a wilderness. The fewscattered trees that grow upon them are uniformly oak. They areseparated from each other at unequal distances, but are rarely lessthan sixty yards apart. They do not shoot up to a lofty height, anddestitute of branches like the tenants of the thick woods, but bowtheir heads, and spread their arms, as if conscious of theirdependence upon the precarious charity of a long-cultivated country. Beneath them grows a coarse thin grass; but they are never encumberedwith the shrubs and underwood that usually form very serious obstaclesin the way of the forest traveller. The Prophets' Plain was the onlyexception. Along the junction of the plain with the western hill, itsmargin was thickly set with stunted pines, hemlocks, cedars, and, beneath, tangled briars. No one ventured to penetrate these sacredrecesses, for there were extended, near the inner border, the fewscattered wigwams of the prophets. Such was the character anddescription of the plain where the religious ceremonies of theOnondagas were performed, and where their council fires were lighted. 

In the interval of eighteen seasons, that had rolled away since theerection of the fortress at Oswego, the character of the red men ofthe valley had undergone a great and disastrous change. 

From the most peaceable, inoffensive, and happy, of all the sons ofthe forest, they had become the most dissolute, quarrelsome, anddrunken. They were constantly seen about the villages of the whitesbegging, bartering every thing they possessed, and performing everydrudgery, however servile or degrading, for the strong waters of thepale-face. The free and lofty spirit that once animated the nation wasgone; a spirit which, though it had not been often aroused to action, was yet susceptible of the highest efforts of Indian heroism. Theirencounters with the neighbouring tribes had not been frequent, yet, when they did take place, the Onondagas had displayed a spirit ofintrepid daring, of craft, of patience, and of hardihood in suffering, that had seldom been surpassed among the nations of the forest. Butnow the spirit of the tribe was broken, and they were no longernumbered among the fierce resenters of wrong. The Oneidas trespassedupon their hunting-grounds and slaughtered their people, yet theirwarriors were too debased and abject to avenge the insult, or wipeaway the memory of their wrongs with blood. They were, evidently, hastening to ruin. Their numbers were rapidly diminishing, as wellfrom the usual effects of intoxication as from the exposures andaccidents to which they were subjected from its influence; and, morethan all, from the constant quarrels and murders which daily tookplace among them. In a few more years, if the course they then pursuedhad been continued, the whole tribe must have become utterly extinct;their name existing but in the recollection of the story-teller, andthe green turf alone marking the lands they once inhabited. Itfortunately happened, however, at the period alluded to, that theprophets, together with a few of the elder chiefs, who had stood alooffrom the contaminating influence of the white men, were enabled toarouse the almost extinguished energy of the people, so far as toassemble them round a council-fire, that was lighted at early dawn onefrosty morning, in the Moon of Falling Leaves, on the Prophets' Plain. The whole tribe was called together. A solemn gravity, even beyond theordinary measure of Indian deliberation, sat upon the countenance ofeach chief and prophet, indicating that matters of high importancewere impending. These sat in a circle around the great fire, theireyes cast upon the earth, and all silent as a grove of oaks in a calmmorning. Without the circle of chiefs and prophets stood promiscuouslygrouped the remainder of the tribe--men, women, and children--alldiscovering more than common anxiety to learn the reason of theextraordinary call. 

But let me not anticipate the circumstances that attended, nor theevents that followed, the _Warning_ of Tekarrah[A], as recited byWonnehush, chief of the Onondagas. 

[Footnote A: Tekarrah, i. E. [Greek: angelos], messenger, of the GreatSpirit. ]

From a remote corner of the camp, this aged man intimated an intentionto speak. A deep silence pervaded the whole crowd, and every eye wasfixed upon him. After a short pause, he slowly rose, and cast ananxious eye around the room in which the fire was lighted. But hiseye, although it retained proof of its former power and lustre, hadnow become dim with age. His furrowed brow, his whitened locks, andbended form, once as straight as the arrow that sped from his youthfulbow, evinced the ravages which time had made on his noble form. Yethis voice was still strong and clear. At length, adjusting the foldsof his blanket, he stretched forth his withered arm, and, with thedignity of one from the Land of Souls, and with all the eloquence ofhis race, thus addressed the wandering inmates of the camp:--

Brothers, shall Wonnehush tell you a lie? No! Let the white man, whoseheart is the heart of a fawn, and whose ways are the ways of theserpent, let him speak with a forked tongue. It is for him that livesin great towns, and buys his bread by selling strong waters, to poisonthe red men--it is for him to deal in lies. The red man hunts thebuffalo, and traps the beaver in the woods that were given him by theGreat Spirit. He crosses the big mountain, and enters the deep valleysbeyond it, and no man dares to stop his path. He has a great heart, and scorns to tell a lie. Hear, then, the words of Wonnehush!

Brothers, I am an oak of the forest. The snows of a hundred wintershave fallen on my branches. Once the tree was covered with greenleaves, but they have dropped at my side, and the sap, which once madethe tree strong and flourishing, has left the trunk, and the moisturehas decayed from my roots. 

Brothers, I am an aged, a very aged man. I can no longer bend the bowof my youth, and my tomahawk falls short of its death-mark. But myears have been open, and my tongue can repeat to you the traditions ofthe valley. Listen to the chief of Onondaga, and believe the words hewill tell you, for he never spoke other than the truth. He never inyouth had a forked tongue, or a faint heart, and why should he bearthem now?

Brothers, the flowers of the prairie have blossomed and faded, and theleaves of the forest budded and withered, more than fifty times sincethe canoes of the white men entered the mouth of the Rapid River. Mytribe was then spread from the lake to the mountain, and the smoke oftheir cabins curled over the tops of the hemlocks, from Skeneateles toOneida. The Great Spirit was their kind father. He looked into theirwigwams, and saw they were happy. They hunted the fat bear, thestately moose, and the delicious deer, through wide forests, andspeared the juicy fish of many waters. Their hearts were very stout, and their arms were very long. In war, who were so brave as theOnondagas?--The scalps of their enemies were strung as thick upontheir belt-girdles as the stars in the path of the Master of Life. Their wives were good and affectionate, their sons strong and brave, and their daughters sweet-tempered and beautiful. They were happy, forthey were virtuous, and favoured by the Great Spirit, for they did allthey could to deserve his love. 

Brothers, the white man came over the Great Lake, and settled downupon all the best spots of the land, as the wild-duck lights upon thelake which contains his favourite food. Soon his brothers joined him, and, to protect their coward hearts from the red men, they built afort at Oswego. To that vile spot they enticed our young men, and ourwomen, to bring them the spoils of the water and the land--the fish, venison, and skins--and gave them wampum and the fire-eater inexchange. When they had swallowed the strong waters of the pale-faces, they became as beasts, and fell about the earth like trees shivered bylightnings, or prostrated by the tempest. When they arose from theearth, it was to quarrel with each other. The ground was wet, and thewaters red, with the blood of Onandagas slain by the hands of theirbrothers. They sought the deer, and the bear, and the moose, and thewolf, no more, or, if they sought, their hands were so enfeebled bythe strong waters that the quest was fruitless, and the maize whichwas planted was suffered to be choked with weeds. Instead of the noblepastimes of war and the chace, they loitered around the cabins of thewhite men; and, instead of the tongue which had been given them bytheir father, the Great Spirit, and with which they had spoken formany, many ages, they learned the tongue of the stranger. The wordsand wise sayings of the prophets had no longer a charm for them, andthe traditions which once flowed from their lips to patient, andpleased, and attentive, hearers, were neglected for the lying tales ofthe stranger. The knees of the once swift runner shook like a reed inthe wind. The heart of the once fearless warrior had become softerthan woman's. The blood of his enemies no more reddened his tomahawk;his shout of onset was heard no more among the hills of the Iroquois. He became a prey to the cunning hatred of the strangers, whose angerwas kindled against him because he was the son of the Great Spirit. And they mixed the poisonous juices of herbs with the strong watersthey gave him, that his death might be sure. Is it strange that ourpeople have disappeared from the plain, as the dew in the morning orthe snows of the Planting-Moon before the beams of the noontide sun?

Brothers, more than thirty years have passed since a council-fire waskindled on the Prophets' Plain, in the Moon of Early Frost. It was agreat fire, for there were assembled all the people of the valley. Inthe middle of the assembly stood the priests, next the chiefs andwarriors of Wonnehush, and without them the aged men and women, andthe children, and the wives of the warriors. Then the priests beganthe dance and the howl, wherewith they commence their invocations tothe Great Spirit. Suddenly there appeared in the midst of the people astranger who was a head taller than the tallest man of the nation. Hisform was noble and majestic beyond any thing ever seen by our people. His eye had the brightness of the sunbeam, and his manner wasgraceful as the waving of a field of corn. Upon the border of hismantle were strange figures; and his belt of wampum glittered like thegirdle of the heavens. He was one upon whom no Onondaga eye had everbefore looked--a stranger in the valley--perhaps a warrior sent hitherby one of the fierce tribes of the land to insult, by some reproach, for their effeminacy and weakness, the terror and sin-strickenOnondagas. 

At length he rose to speak, and every sound was hushed, not only inthe Indian camp, but in surrounding nature. Not a bird chirped; not aleaf was heard to rustle among the trees of the plain; the beasts ofthe forests were still; the busy bee desisted from its hum; even thewinds were hushed and silent while the stranger delivered his solemnwarning. 

"I am, " said he, "Tekarrah, the messenger of the Great Spirit. Onondagas, listen to my words! I am come from your father, that sameSpirit, to speak the words of truth in your ears, and to tell you thathe is exceedingly angry with you. You have exchanged your broad andrich lands for useless toys; you have taken the maize and the meatfrom the mouths of your starving children, to purchase from thestrangers the strong waters which have made your warriors as timid asthe deer you once hunted through the forests. You have thrown awaythe tongue which was given you by your Great Father, and have takenthat of your destroyers. You have forgotten the deeds of your fathers, which made them feared and honoured from the Falls of the Mohawk toLake Huron. The Great Spirit has spoken to you in his thunders, and bythe mouth of his priests, but you have heard neither; and, though hisblessings were showered thick upon you, you have been like adders, andstung the hand which dispensed them. 

"Onondagas! hear the warning words of the Great Spirit. If you willreturn to your cabins, and forget the things that were taught you, andunlearn the tongue of the white man, to use again the language of yourfathers--if, instead of the rifle, you will shoot with the bow, andcause the arrow to whistle instead of the bullet--if you will cease togive the spoils of the chace and the produce of your fields for beadsand strong waters--if you will chase the Oneidas from yourhunting-grounds, and again occupy them yourselves--then will the GreatSpirit forgive you, and once more take you to his bosom. But, if youwill not hearken to his voice, nor to the voice of his prophets, listen to the words of vengeance. 

"Before twelve moons shall have faded from the skies, your tribe shallhave passed away. Not an Onondaga shall be left to tell the proudstory of the glory of his nation. The cabin of the pale-face shall bebuilt on the burial spot of your fathers, and his herds and flocksshall feed on the consecrated ground of the priests. The white manshall say to his children--'Here once lived a people called theOnondagas. They once were the bravest of all the tribes of the land, but they became the most feeble and cowardly. It was the cunning ofwhites which wrought their ruin. We gave them strong waters--theytasted the poison--they loved it--and lo! we dwell upon their ashes. '"

Brothers, a sudden blast of wind shook the branches of the trees, ablack cloud overspread the plain, and, although every eye seemed fixedupon the place where Tekarrah had stood, yet he was gone. He had comeand vanished like one of those fiery balls that we see on a summer'sevening, travelling in the misty valleys. 

Brothers, we returned to our cabins, and pondered upon his words. Theysunk deep into our hearts, and our tribe profited by the warning. Weforsook all trade with the white men, and forgot their tongue. Wethrew away the rifle which was heard no more in our woods, and madethe bow and arrow, and the tomahawk, and the war-club, again ourweapons. Again we were clothed with the skins of the animals we slewin the chace, and the meat we killed in the woods was applied as itshould be, to feed our young ones. The snows of more than thirtywinters have whitened our valley, since we have abstained from thestrong waters of the pale-faces. Our nation have since grown like theoak, firm and strong-rooted, and the Oneidas dare no longer kindletheir fires on our border. Our warriors have hearts as stout as ourfathers in the olden time; our runners outstrip the wild cat foragility, and the roebuck for speed. Our people linger no more roundthe settlement at Oswego, but are happy and contented in the deepshades of the forest, with the coarse but healthy enjoyments of Indianlife. The Great Spirit again smiles upon his children, and they smokein the calumet of peace. Our tribe is strong and warlike, in the fullvigour of health, while the red men of other nations are perishingaround us. 

Brothers, hear me, for I am old, and your fathers were wont to hearthe council of the elders. Remember the tale of Wonnehush; he tellsyou no lie. Carry his words to your tribes, and let the warning ofTekarrah be heard in every wigwam beyond the mountains. 

 * * * * *

Much has been said and written of the eloquence of the Indians, but itall conveys a very imperfect and inadequate idea of the beauty andexcellence of their orations. They are untranslatable by whites, forwe are without the nice perception of natural beauty and sublimitywhich the Indian possesses, and therefore cannot convey with accuracyand fulness his ideas of the external objects from which his figuresand metaphors are drawn. If a bird flits before him, he discerns hues, and remarks circumstances in its notes and motions, which areimperceptible to the white man. The same acuteness which enabled anIndian scout to apprise his commander, and to apprise him correctly, that an "Indian, tall and very cowardly, with a new blanket, a shortgun, and an old dog, " had passed[A] where the utmost industry of hisemployer could find no trace or footstep, is carried into everypursuit, and forms a part of every faculty and quality of the Indian. But to return to his elocution. 

[Footnote A: His stature he determined by the width of his stride, andhis cowardice by his avoidance of remote dangers, and the wide circuithe took to escape contact with any one, his having a new blanket bythe portion of nap left on the branches of the trees among which hepassed. His having a short gun he discovered by the mark left in thebark of the tree against which he had leaned the muzzle, and an olddog by the mumbling of a bone dropped in their path. ]

That was a beautiful figure of Tecumseh's to an American, who speakingof the President of the United States had used the expression "YourGreat Father. " "My great father!" exclaimed the indignant chief; "the_Sun_ is my father, and the earth is my mother, and I repose on herbosom. "

When the Seminoles were defeated by General Jackson, their chief cameinto the presence of the victor with all the pride and firmness thatbelong to an Indian warrior. The conqueror demanded why he hadsurrendered so soon. "I have not surrendered soon, " answered thechief; "I planted and harvested my corn on the right bank of the riverof my people, while I fought the pale-faces on the left. " This historyof a warfare protracted to four months--for the period between theplanting and harvesting of maize is of that or greater duration--wasbeautiful, though brief, but it was literally true. A gentlemanpresent assured me that the dignity of his manner, as well as thematter of his speech, sent a thrill of awe to the bosom of every oneof the assembly. 

One of the most beautiful Indian speeches on record is that of Logan, the Mingo chief. It is one of the most affecting narratives ofindividual sorrow that I ever read. It has been frequentlyquoted--nevertheless there may be some to whom it may be new, and Ishall transcribe it for their use. It is the language of truth andnature clothed in its most beautiful form. 

 "In the year 1774, a robbery having been committed by some Indians upon the white settlers on the Ohio, the latter undertook, in a summary way, to punish the outrage. They surprised, at different times, several of the Indian hunting parties, with their women and children, and murdered many of them. Among these was the family of Logan, a celebrated chief, who had always distinguished himself as the friend of the whites. This ungrateful return provoked his vengeance, and in the war which ensued he highly signalized himself. In the autumn of that year, the Indians were defeated in a decisive battle, and sued for peace. Logan, however, disdained to be seen among the suppliants. But, in order that no distrust might arise in the treaty on account of the absence of so celebrated a warrior, he sent, by the hands of General Gibson, the following speech, to be delivered to Lord Dunmore, the governor of Virginia:--

 "I appeal to any white man to say if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat: if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, 'Logan is the friend of white men. ' I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Crespal, the last spring, in cold blood and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge; I have sought it; I have killed many; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but do not harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan?--Not one. "

III. THE LEGEND OF POMPERAUG. 

Three suns, and no more, would it take the feet of a fleet Mohawk tojourney to the spot which contains the dust of Pomperaug, the last manof his tribe. The spot where that chief drew his breath was a smalland level valley, surrounded by lofty and thickly wooded hills, with acool, clear, bright, little stream, rippling through its green andflowery meadows. When he first saw the light of the great star, thisspot was not divested of its trees; my countrymen, from the distantregions over the great waters, came with their sharp axes and lithearms, and swept away the loved retreats of the red inhabitants of theland. The beautiful trees which hung over the quiet little river ofPomperaug and his people, like a mother bending over her sleepinginfant, fell before them like a field of corn bowed to the earth by atempest of wind. And very soon was the tribe itself swept away by thesame resistless torrent which divested their land of its sylvanadornments. The Great Sachem of the East, who dwelt on the loftyHaup, having engaged in a war with my brethren, the Pomperaugs tookpart with the king of the Pequods, and a large part of them shared inhis destruction. The chief fell, pierced by the arrow of the GreatKing. His son, still a boy, with a remnant of his father's people, when the war was finished by the death of the warlike and cunningSachem of Haup, returned to their native valley: and, submittingthemselves to their conquerors, sat down by the beloved river, and, apparently were content to toil for the white man in the fields whichhad once been their own. Yet it was with a deep remembrance of theirwrongs, and a determination, at a convenient opportunity, to take adeep and bloody revenge. The period had now arrived when the youngchief had reached the age of manhood. He took, as was the custom ofhis fathers, the name of his tribe, and was accordingly calledPomperaug. A nobler youth was never seen, either red or white. He wastall, and finely formed, with an eye that gleamed like the flashes ofthe diamond, and a brow, upon which were stamped the greatness of hismind, the lofty and honourable feelings which filled his soul. He wassuch a one as the Indian contemplates with delight, and gazes uponwith idolatry. His foot was swift as that of the deer; his arrow wassure as the pursuit of the eagle; his sagacity penetrating as thelight of the sun. The maidens of his own tribe looked upon him witheyes of love; and there were not a few among the maidens of my owncolour who confessed that he was "beautiful, and noble in form, andworthy to be loved by red and white. "

Such was Pomperaug. But his nation was passing away, and but fifty ofhis own tribe now dwelt in the valley in which his fathers, numberlessas the leaves upon the oaks under which they dwelt, had hunted formany ages. The day of their dominion was past. There was a spell overthe dark warrior. The Great Spirit had sealed his doom. He had sentstrange men to his shores--and a change had come over the face of theland. The thickly settled town--the lofty spire of the house where menassembled to worship the Great Being--the fields, green, and glowingwith the deep verdure of spring--the slopes of the hills, made smoothwith cultivation--had taken the place of the lofty forest, from whicharose the cry of the red warrior, as he rushed on his foes, or theplash of his oar, as he swept his light canoe on his expeditions ofwar or love. The stranger had built his house upon the margin of hisfavourite streams, whence a portion of his daily food was procured;and he, whose soil it was, had fled from the profanation of hisfather's bones. One by one, like leaves in the Harvest-Moon, had theydropped from the vision of those around them. To-day, you saw a son ofthe forest with an eye like the eagle's, and a foot like theantelope's; to-morrow, he was gone, and gone without a token. Thewaters that lave the thirsty sands of the seashore sink not moresilently in their ebb than the Indians have disappeared from thevicinity of the abodes of white men. And in this same silent wayfloated down the stream of oblivion the Indians of the valley ofPomperaug. Perceiving that their doom was sealed, they patientlysubmitted to a fate which they could not avert. 

It was, therefore, without resistance that they received into theheart of their little territory a company of the people of my nation. They were in number about thirty. Their governor, who was also theirpriest, was a man of great age, though possessed of all the mental andbodily vigour of youth. His years were more than three score and ten, and his hair as white as snow, yet his feet were sprightly as those ofa young deer. His tall and broad form was still erect; his eye hadlost none of its fire, nor his temper any of its energy; he was old inyears, but young in the vigour of his soul. 

This aged priest had brought to the valley of Pomperaug the remnant ofa family of many souls. It was a maiden--the daughter of his only sonwho, with his wife, had slept many years in the house of death. Hername was Mary, and well might she be the object of all the earthlyaffections which still beat in the bosom of one whom death had madeacquainted with sorrow, and who but for her had been alone. 

Mary had now seen the harvest gathered in seventeen times. She was themost beautiful of all the maidens of the land. She was tall andslender, with a dark expressive eye, whose slow movements seemed fullof soul and sincerity. Her hair was of a glossy black, parted upon aforehead of dazzling whiteness, and shading a cheek which vied in itsblush with the pale rose of the wilds. And snow was not whiter thanher stately neck, and rounded arm, and little hand. 

They had been settled in the valley of Pomperaug but a few moons, whenan application from the aged priest to purchase a portion of the youngchief's lands brought him to the cabin of the former. It was a brightmorning in autumn, and, while he was talking with the priest at thedoor, the lovely maiden, who had been gathering flowers, the lateflowers of the season, in the adjacent woods, passed by them, andentered the hut. The eye of the young chief followed her with the gazeof entrancement. His face shone as if he had seen a vision of morethan earthly beauty, some bright spirit of the air. But this emotionwas visible only for a moment. With the habitual self-command of thosewho are trained in the wilds, he turned again to the aged priest, andcalmly pursued the subject which occasioned their meeting. 

Pomperaug went away, but he carried the image of the beautiful maidenwith him. He retired to his wigwam, but it did not please him--avacant and dissatisfied feeling filled his bosom. He went to the topof the high rock, at the foot of which his hut was situated, and, seating himself upon the broad flat stone, cast his eyes over theriver, upon which the beams of the morning were just beginning to casttheir quivering light. The scene, once so pleasing, afforded him nojoy. He turned away, and sent his long gaze over the checkered leavesof the forest, which spread like a sea over the beautiful valley. Hewas still dissatisfied. With a bound he sprang from the rock into thevalley, and, alighting on his feet, snatched his bow, and took thepath which led into the forest. In a few moments he returned listlessand vacant, and, seating himself upon the rock, brooded for many hoursin silence. 

The sun of the next morning had been but a few minutes abroad on theearth, when Pomperaug repaired to the house of the aged priest tofinish the business of the preceding day. He had before signified hisintention to part with his land on the terms offered him, but he nowdeclined. 

"Why will not the son of the chief, who fell in the Moon of GreenCorn, give to the pale-face for the things he wants the lands he doesnot plough, the woods that are bare of game, the waters whose fishglide unharmed by his spear?" demanded the priest. 

"Listen, father--hear a red man speak, " answered the young chief. "Mark yonder eagle--how joyous his flight among the clouds. The sky ishis home, he loves it, and grief seizes his heart when he leaves it. Will he barter it for the sea? No. Look into the river, and ask thefish that sports so happy in its clear bosom, if he will sell hisbirth-place, and he will, if he speak at all, answer No. Shall the redman sell for a few strings of beads, and a piece of red cloth, thespot that contains his father's bones? No. Yet, father, I will partwith my forests, if thou wilt give me the beautiful singing-bird thatis in thy nest. "

"Savage, " said the priest indignantly and haughtily, "shall the lamblie down in the den of the wolf? shall the fawn knock at the lair ofthe panther, and enter and take up her abode? Never! Name not thething again--I would sooner see her die! Name it not. " As he spoke hestruck his cane forcibly on the ground, and his broad figure seemed toexpand and grow taller, while his eye gleamed, and the muscles of hisbrow contracted, with a lowering and stern expression. The air andmanner of the Indian were changed. His countenance while pleading hissuit had worn an air of supplication unusual with his race, but hiseye flashed fire at the reproof and the refusal of the priest tosanction his love, and his manner assumed a proud dignity which it hadnot before. As the dull colours of the snake, when he becomes enraged, are succeeded by the glowing hues of the rainbow, so was the meek lookwhich Pomperaug had at first worn followed by one better befitting theuntamed and stern lord of the forest. 

The priest and the chief parted, and Pomperaug refused to sell hislands. He was now changed to all around him. With the white people heheld no further communication, and said little to his own people, unless to cultivate in them a hatred of their neighbours. His wholesoul was filled with love for the beautiful pale-face. His old andcherished pursuits and pastimes no longer gave him pleasure; the bowlay unstrung in a corner of his cabin, and his canoe was no longerseen, impelled by his strong arm, gliding over the river. 

As might have been expected from the bitter disappointment ofPomperaug in not being able to obtain the maiden, and that of thepriest at failing to obtain the coveted lands, difficulties soon grewup between the Indians and their neighbours, and violent feelings wereshortly excited on both sides. This soon broke out into open quarrels, and one of the white men was shot by the arrow of an Indian hunter, ashe was returning through the woods to his home. The whites determinedto seek instant revenge, and accordingly, gathering their mentogether, they followed the Indians into the broken and rocky regionswhich lie east of the valley of Pomperaug, whither, expecting pursuit, they had retreated. 

It was about an hour before sunset, when the Yengeese, consisting oftwenty men well armed after the fashion of the whites, and led by theaged priest, who, old as he was, still retained the spirit of ayouthful warrior, were marching through a deep ravine, about two mileseast of their village. The rocks on either side were lofty, and sonarrow was the dell, that the shadows of night had already gatheredover it. The pursuers had sought their enemies the whole day in vain, and, having lost all traces of them, they were now returning to theirhomes. Untaught by dear bought experience, they marched along heedlessof the dangers which surrounded them--disregardful of the advantagesoffered to their cunning foes by the rocks and thickly woodedeminences around them. Suddenly the shrill war-whoop burst from therocks at their feet, and many armed Indians sprang up before them. Anarrow pierced the breast of the aged priest, and he fell dead in frontof his band. Two Indians met their death at the hands of their foes, the remainder sought the forest. Several of the Yengeese were wounded, but none mortally, save the priest. 

With mournful silence they bore back the body of their father to thedwelling his aged feet had left but a few hours before. He was buriedin a lonely and sequestered nook of the valley, and the orphan maidenturned away with a desolate and breaking heart, to be for the firsttime alone in the humble cabin in the wilderness. 

 * * * * *

A season had passed away, and another harvest had come. The tribe ofPomperaug had disappeared, and the rock on which the priest met hisdeath had been consecrated by many prayers of those who loved him. Hisblood was still visible upon the spot, and thither his people oftenrepaired to kneel, and offer up petitions for the repose of hisspirit. They believed that their hearts were softened, and theirspirits visited with the richest gifts of heavenly grace, when theycame to the spot where he had met his death. 

It was a mild and beautiful evening in summer, when the maiden for thelast time went to spend an hour at this holy spot. Long had she knelt, and most fervently had she prayed to her kind creator. The sun wentdown, and, as the veil of evening fell, the full moon climbed over theridge of rocks which rose on the east side of the valley, pouring itswhite light into the lone and quiet recesses and solitudes around her, and the good and beauteous maiden was still kneeling, still communingwith that Being whom every nation and tongue, civilized and savage, red and white, delight to honour and worship--at least with theirlips, though their hearts may be far from him. 

At length, a slight noise, like the crushing of a leaf, woke her fromher trance, and, springing quickly on her feet, and filled with suddenand unusual fears, she set out on her return to the village. Alarmedat her distance from home at such an hour, and by the sounds from timeto time repeated, she proceeded along with great rapidity. She wasobliged to climb up the rocks with great care, as the darknessrendered it a critical and dangerous task. At length she reached thetop. Standing upon the verge of the cliff, she then turned a momentto look back upon the valley. The moon was shining full upon the vale, and she gazed with a mixture of awe and delight upon the sea of greenleaves, which slept in death-like repose beneath her. She then turnedto pursue her path homeward, but what was her amazement to see beforeher, in the full moonlight, the tall form of Pomperaug! She shrieked, and swift as his own arrow, sprang over the dizzy cliff. The youngchief listened--there was a moment of silence--then a heavy sound likethe falling of a body upon the hard earth--and the dell was still asthe tomb. 

The fate of the beautiful maiden was known only to Pomperaug. Heburied her with a lover's care, amid the rocks of the glen. Then, bidding adieu to his native valley, with a bursting heart, he joinedhis people, who had retired to the banks of the distant Housatonac. 

 * * * * *

Many years passed away, and the swift and stealthy hunter had beensucceeded by the patient and industrious white cultivator. Few tracesof the Indian were remaining. The weak and irresolute--they who couldsee unmoved the dwelling-places of their fathers usurped by strangers, had found unhonoured graves in their own woods--the brave andresolute had gone yet farther into the forest. The rotten bow andquiver, and the rusted arrow, were frequently turned up by the plough, and little fields of scarce the breadth of an arrow's flight disclosedwhere the red man had once tasted his narrow enjoyments of home andshelter, and these were all that marked where he had been. The bitterpersecutors of the rightful possessors of these wide-spread lands werein possession of every fertile spot, while the Indian roved in strangelands, a wanderer, and an outcast. 

It was in the pleasant month when the birds build their nests on theboughs of trees, that a white man, seated on the margin of the riverwhich swept along by the grave of the deceased maiden, saw a train ofmen slowly approaching, bearing a human corpse. He crept into asequestered spot, and watched their progress. Approaching the littlehillock where the dust of the maiden reposed, they deposited theirload on the earth, and commenced digging a fresh grave by its side. When it was finished, they placed the corpse in it, together with theimplements commonly buried with an Indian warrior, his bow, quiver ofarrows, spear, pipe, &c. The white man, fearing discovery, retreated, and left them to finish their solemn labours unobserved. In themorning, the funeral train had departed, but the fresh earth and thelow heap of stones revealed the secret. They remain there to this day, and the two little mounds are shown by the villagers, as the graves ofthe beautiful Mary and the faithful Pomperaug. 

IV. THE SON OF ANNAWAN. 

The son of the white man sat in his house on the border of the Indiannations, when there came a red man to his door, leading a beautifulwoman with a little child in her arms, and spoke thus:--

"Dost thou see the sun?"

"I see the sun, " answered the white man, haughtily. 

"Three times, " said the Indian, "has that sun risen, and thrice has hesunk from my eyes behind the dark hills of the west, since I or minehave tasted food. For myself, I care little--I am a man of the woods, a patient warrior; I can fast seven suns; I am not even now faint--buta tender woman has not the soul of a strong warrior, and when she seesnot meat every day, she leans her head upon her hand, and when herchild droops for food she weeps. Give me food. "

"Begone!" said the white man, "I earn my bread and meat by the sweatof my brow--"

"On the lands of the Indian, " interrupted the stern warrior. 

"On my own lands--lands reclaimed from wildness--lands suffered to liewaste for ages, and only made to be of use to human beings when myrace came hither with hard hands and patient souls, and felled thetrees, and rooted out the obstacles which kept out the beams of thecherishing and invigorating sun. Begone to thy den in the wilderness!"

"Give me but food for the Sparrow and her little one, and the Hawkwill go without. He has yet strength enough left to enable him tocarry his feet to the wilds stocked with deer, and the Great Beingwill himself direct the arrow which is to procure the means to sustainlife. But my wife and child, whose lives I value beyond my own, willfaint and die, ere that distant spot be gained. "

"You shall have no food here; I will not feed lazy Indians, " answeredthe white man. 

The Indian said nothing, but the pale and fainting mother looked onher sick infant and burst into tears. 

There was sitting on the greensward at the Englishman's door abeautiful little girl not yet grown to perfect womanhood, but on itsverge--a fawn far in its second season--a tree wanting but a few moresuns to be clothed with the blossoms of maturity. She was the onlychild of the white man--the only pledge of love left him by a belovedwife who slept in the earth. She was most tenderly beloved by herfather, and seldom asked any thing in vain. At her side sat a boy, perhaps two or three seasons older, playing with her the games ofchildhood. 

"Father, " said she, rising and approaching him in a supplicatingmanner, "suppose your daughter was cast friendless and hungry amongthe sons of the forest, and they denied her food. Would not the wrathof the Great Spirit be upon them for their inhumanity?"

The father looked thoughtful, but made no reply. 

"Father, do you love your child?--If you do, permit her to feed thegood Indian father who would starve himself so those he loves could befed. Permit me to wipe the tears from the dark cheek of the mother, and to take a crumb of bread from your plenteous store to put in themouth of the famished child. "

The father could deny nothing to his beloved daughter, and, besides, the little boy pleaded for the famished Pequods also, and he yielded. With a light and bounding step the two children pursued the faintingIndians and brought them back. Food was set before them till theirhunger was appeased; the little girl laid the little Indian babe onher own knee and fed it with her own hand, nor were they permitted todepart till refreshed by a rest of two days. They then returned totheir own homes in the wilderness, and their little benefactorsattended them to the skirts of the forest, two miles from the cruelfather's dwelling. 

 * * * * *

Several seasons had passed away; the little girl, who had so kindlyinterposed to feed the miserable Indians, had grown to womanhood, andhad become the wife of that boy and a mother. Her husband was acultivator of the soil, and with the disposition to seek new lands, and try untried regions, which every where belongs to white men, hehad built himself a cabin very far from the spot where he and his wifedrew their breath. On the banks of a distant river, on a pleasantlysituated little hill, which enjoyed the bright morning sun, he erectedhis cabin and sowed his wheat. He went not, however, to the wildernessalone: many other white men went with him, and, for protection againstthe red men of the forest, whose wrongs had stirred them to bitterhatred and revenge, they built a fort, to which they might retreat incase of danger. The cabin of the benefactors of the starving Indianfamily was at a distance of a mile from the fort--the husband beingthe first who had ventured to reside at such a distance from agarrison or fortified house. 

"I shall return before dark, " said he one day to his affectionatewife, as he was preparing to go down to the fort on some business. "There is no danger, my beloved, " continued he, as he took up hislittle son, and, kissing him, laid him in his fond mother's arms. 

"But my dreams, my husband--my frightful dreams of tall savages andshrill war-whoops!" said she. 

"Oh! that should not frighten you, " he replied. "Remember, you hadbeen listening all the evening to dark and terrific stories of whathad been done by the native warrior when he raised his arm in defenceof his birth-place. Dreams are caused by that which most engrosses ourthoughts--particularly just as we are going to sleep. There have notbeen any traces of the Indians discovered this season, and I should besorry to raise an alarm among our friends merely upon account of adream. "

"But you know, my husband, " said she, "that they are a secret, as wellas a terrible enemy--they are, you know, eagles for daring, panthersfor fierceness, adders for secrecy, and foxes for cunning. " And sheraised her mild eyes to her husband's face with that pleadingexpression when tears seem ready to start, and are yet checked by thefear of giving pain to the one beloved. A fond husband finds itimpossible to withstand the tears of his wife, and he said, quickly, "I will not go to the garrison to-day. "

"But you promised your father, and he will expect you, " answered she. "You must go. I know my fears are the fears of a child, but they shallnot make me wicked. I am too apt to think my security depends on yourpresence. I forgot that the One mighty to save can defend me, and thattrust in Him is a shield to the believer. You must go. "

"But I will not go without you, " said her husband, who now began tofeel the fears she was endeavouring to shake off. "Come, prepare thechild, and we will go down together. If there has been any alarm, wewill not return to-night, but pass it under the protection of thefort. "

The wife paused a few moments, as if considering what she should do. Ineed not tell you, for you know that nothing is so difficult toexplain--nothing so contradictory as the feelings and wishes of thehuman heart. A few moments since she would have thought that if shecould accompany her husband she should be perfectly safe--that hispresence would obviate every danger ere it arose. But now otherconsiderations presented themselves to her mind. If he went not to thecouncil, he might incur reproof for listening to a woman's fears anddreams; and dread of ridicule prevented her from accompanying him. 

"I will have more fortitude, " said she, smiling. "I will not make afool of you, though I appear like one myself--you shall not havereason to be ashamed of your wife--I will not go. " And she sat downresolutely, determined to conquer her fears. It was in vain that herhusband urged her to accompany him. The more she saw his affectionateanxiety on her account, the more she laboured to suppress her fears, till finally she persuaded him, and herself too, that she felt nouneasiness at all from the prospect of passing a lengthened periodalone, and he departed. 

But she had affected resolution which she was far from feeling. Shefelt a presentiment that danger was nigh, and it weighed heavily onher heart. But she saw him depart without tears, and, after watchinghim from the door till he entered the forest, betook herself to theusual duties of a woman in the house of her husband. Yet she could notforbear going frequently to the door, and sometimes she would wanderforth, and gaze all around their little field, and then watch theprogress of the sun, with an expression of countenance, that, to anobserver, would instantly have revealed the agitation and anxietywhich her heart was suffering. But she saw nothing to inspirefears--indeed there was much to tranquillize them. Every thing abroadwas in perfect quiet. There was scarcely a breath of air perceptible;and the waters of the beautiful Merrimack flowed without a ripple. Thecalm sky of the last month of summer looked of a deeper and moreheavenly blue, seen as it was by her from a spot circumscribed by talltrees, now clothed with such a fulness of foliage as made the forestappear dark and almost impenetrable. Close around the house wereplanted corn and vegetables; and a field of wheat, in front of thedwelling, stretched in unbroken green to the river's brink. There wasnot a sound to be heard--save the chirping of a robin that had builther nest on a lofty chesnut which stood close to the south-east cornerof the house--the only tree suffered to grow within the enclosure. Theyoung birds were fully fledged, and, under the guidance of theparents, were about quitting their nest. The lovely wife watched theirmovements; the old birds now encouraging, now seeming to chide, theirtimid offspring, till finally they reached the woods, and alldisappeared. Slight as the circumstance was, it touched her with afeeling of loneliness. "Even the birds have left me, " said she toherself, and, pressing her boy closer to her bosom, she burst intotears. She might well be excused these tears and feelings, for, thougha wife and mother, she had seen the leaves fall but seventeen times. 

She watched the sun till it sunk behind the western hills, and thenshe watched its beams on the clouds till the last faint tints haddeparted: and, fixing her eyes stedfastly on that part of the forest, from which she expected to see her husband emerge, she sat at thedoor, with her child in her arms, watching, in vain, for hisappearance. As the evening waxed later, and her fears increased, shesometimes imagined she saw strange figures and ferocious faces, witheyes beaming wrath and vengeance, such as she had beheld in her dream, moving about the dusky apartment. Ashamed of these fears, and knowingthat her husband, when he came home, would chide her for thus exposingherself and her child to the evening dews, she breathed a short prayerto Him who stilled the tempest, and entered the house. Her first care, after placing her infant in his cradle, was, to light a candle, andthen, more reassured, she took the sacred book from which white mengather their belief of the land of souls and of future happiness. Thatbook is the "charm, " and the protecting "medicine" of the white men. They believe that it guards them from evil, and guides them to good;its pages are a direction in every difficulty--its promises a resourcein every trial. She read and prayed alternately, mingling the idea ofher husband, his safety and return, with every thought and wish, butstill he came not. She had no means of ascertaining the lapse of time, except by the stars, as there was no moon; but she conjectured that itmust be past the hour of midnight. Again and again she went forth, andexamined with a searching glance every thing around, but nothing couldshe see, except the dark forest in the distance, and, close around herdwelling, the black stumps that stood like sentinels on guard--whilenothing was heard, save the soft murmur of the water, and, at times, alow rustling, as the breeze stirred the leaves of the chesnut-tree, orswept over the field of ripe wheat. 

At length, as she stood at the corner of the cabin, beneath the shadeof the chesnut, of which I have before spoken, looking earnestlytowards the distant woods, she saw, or thought she saw, somethingemerge from their shadow. Whatever it was, it vanished instantly. Shekept her eyes fixed on the spot. A bright starlight enabled her todiscern objects distinctly, even at a distance, especially when herfaculties were roused and stimulated, both by hope and fear. Aftersome time, she again and plainly saw a human figure. It rose from theground, looked and pointed towards her house, and then againdisappeared. She recollected her light. It could be seen from thewindow, and probably had attracted the notice of the Indians, who, shecould no longer doubt, were approaching. They had, as she fancied, waylaid and killed her husband--and were now coming to destroy herselfand her child. What should she do? She never thought of attempting toescape without her babe; but in what direction should she fly, when, perhaps, the Indians surrounded the cabin? There was one moment ofterrible agony, when the mangled form of her husband seemed beforeher, and she heard, in idea, the shrieks of her babe beneath thetortures of your race, till her breath failed, and reason seemeddeserting her. But she made a strong effort to recall her wanderingsenses, and then, with her eyes and clasped hands raised to that placewhere the white man believes his God to reside, she took herresolution. With a noiseless step she entered her dwelling, extinguished the light, took her infant in her arms, and again stolesoftly forth, creeping along in the shadow of the house, till shereached the spot whence she had first seen the object which alarmedher. Here she stood perfectly still. Her infant lay on her bosom inprofound sleep--as quiet and seemingly as breathless as though hisspirit had already departed. She did not wait long before the samedark figure again rose, looked around, and then sank down as before. The moment it disappeared, she passed swiftly and softly, as a shadow, over the space that separated the cabin from the chesnut-tree. Thistree was an uncommonly large one, and there was a separation of thetrunk into two branches, about half the height of a tall man from theground, where the shuddering wife thought it possible that she mightconceal herself. She gained it, and placed herself in a position whichallowed her to watch the door of her dwelling. All was silent for along time--more than that space, which among my people, is called anhour, and she began to doubt the reality of what she had seen, imagining she had been deceived, and taken a stump for a human figure;and she was about to descend from the tree, where her situation hadbecome uncomfortable, when suddenly a forest warrior stept by her, between the house and the tree. As another, and another, followed, itwas with difficulty she suppressed her screams. But she did suppressthem, and the only sign she gave of fear, was to press her infantcloser to her bosom. They reached the door, and a sound of surprise atfinding it open was muttered by the first who approached it, andreplied to by the second. After a short consultation they entered, andshe soon saw a light gleam, and supposed they had kindled it to searchfor her. Her pulse beat wildly; yet, still she hoped to escape. It wasnot probable that they would search a tree so near the cabin; theywould rather suppose she had fled to a distance. Presently a cracklingnoise was heard in the cabin, and a bright light, as of flame, flashedfrom the door and window. Presently the Indians rushed out, and, raising their wild yell, danced around the cabin with their usualdemonstrations of joy, when they have accomplished a purpose ofrevenge. The cabin was in flames. 

Still the only sign she gave of fear was, as she unloosed thehandkerchief from her neck and threw it over her child's face toscreen his eyes from the glare of light that might awaken him, topress him closer and closer to her heart. 

The house was unfinished; there was nothing to delay, for a moment, the progress of the fire which had been kindled in the centre of theapartment, and fed by all the combustibles that could be found in thedwelling. The flame very soon caught the rafters and boards, and itseemed that she had scarcely time to breathe a dozen times, before theblaze burst through the roof. The atmosphere, rarified by the heataround the burning building, suddenly expanded, and the cold and moredense air rushing in, it seemed as if a sudden wind was blowingviolently. The current drove the thick smoke, and showered the burningcinders, directly on the chesnut-tree. She felt the scorching heat, while the suffocating vapour almost deprived her of the power ofrespiration. She grew dizzy; yet still the only movement she made was, to turn her child a little in her arms, that he might be moreeffectually shielded from the smoke. At that moment, one of thewarriors approached, in the wild movements of his dance, close to thetree. An eddy of wind swept away the smoke; the light fell full on thepale face of the horror-stricken woman; her eyes, as if by the powerof fascination, were rivetted on the tall and dusky form of the son ofthe forest; his fiery glance was raised toward her, and their gazemet. She gave a start; and the note of his wild war-song was shrilleras he intently regarded his victim. Suddenly he turned away. Murmuringa short prayer to her God, the trembling woman resigned herself todeath, as she heard them all send forth a prolonged whoop. 

"My boy! My husband! We shall meet, we shall all meet in Heaven!" shecried. 

But why did not the Indians approach? She listened, looked around, andsoon saw them flying with the speed of frighted deer across the spaceof cleared land, illuminated by the bright glare, to the covert of thewood. She did not pause to consider what had caused their flight; but, obeying that instinct which bids us shun the present danger, perhapsto encounter a greater more remote, she sprang from the tree, andrushed towards the river. She recollected a spot where the bankprojected, beneath which, during the summer months, the bed of theriver was nearly dry; there she should, at least, be secure from thefire. 

And there she sheltered herself. Her feet were immersed in water, andshe stood in a stooping posture to screen herself from observation, should the Indians return to seek her. In the mean time, her littleboy slumbered peacefully, and regardless of surrounding perils. Noneof her fears or dangers disturbed his repose; and, when the morninglight allowed her to gaze on his sweet face, lit up by the smiles ofinfantile joy, as he beheld the maternal eyes beaming love upon him, tears of bliss and thankfulness flowed fast down her cheeks that shehad been enabled thus to shield that dear innocent from death. 

Soon after the sun had risen she heard sounds as of peopleapproaching, and soon recognised the voices of her friends from thegarrison. She was conveyed, with her child, to the fort, which herhusband had left, she learned, about sunset the preceding evening. Nothing was known, or could be discovered, of his fate; no track nortrace remained to show whether he was to be reckoned among the dead orthe living. 

 * * * * *

The husband of her, whose escape from the wrath of red men I haverelated to the Iroquois, was returning from the fort to his ownhabitation, soon after the damps of evening were abroad on the earth. He was joyous and merry at the thought of embracing his beloved wifeand child, and whistled and sang, as he went, like a lark in themorning. Just as he was entering the edge of a deep valley, which laybetween his cabin and the protected dwellings of his friends, fourPequods rushed from the thick woods upon him. One of them seized hisrifle before he had time to use it; while another struck him a blow onthe head with his tomahawk, which deprived him of recollection, untilnear the return of the light. 

When he did recover, he found himself lying at the foot of a tree, hishands bound, and an Indian guarding him. All efforts to escape hefound would be vain, and he silently submitted to his fate. Aboutmid-day the other three of his captors joined the one who guarded him, and, after conversing hastily a few moments, they began a hurriedmarch. The prisoner perceived one of them examining him often andattentively, viewing him in various situations, apparentlyendeavouring to make out a recognition of one formerly known. Atlength, on the fourth day, as he was alone with the prisoner, heseated himself upon the smooth sward, and, bidding the other do thesame, he addressed him in the following language:--

"Listen!"

"I listen, " said the prisoner. 

"Where hadst thou thy dwelling-place when thine arm was first able tobend a healthy sprout of a single season, and thy heart first began tocount upon its strength to look upon the glaring eye-ball of a madwolf?"

"Far from here, " answered the prisoner, his eyes filling with tears, and sighs bursting from his heart, at the image of youthful love andbliss recalled to his mind by the allusion to his birth-place. "Uponthe bank of a distant river, more than three suns travel from the spotwhere I became the captive of the red man. "

"White men have forked tongues, " answered the Pequod; "but thou shaltmark it out on the smooth surface of the white birch, that my memorymay tell me if thou hast spoken true. "

The prisoner, with a piece of coal taken from their fire, marked outthe dwelling in which he resided at the period alluded to by theIndian. He seemed satisfied. 

"It is well, " said he. "Now show me the cabin to which thou wertgoing, when the red man paid a small part of his debt of vengeance onthy race, by taking thee captive. "

The prisoner made a second drawing, representing his little field andhis cabin, including the chesnut-tree. 

"Was there another bird in the nest of thy father when thy soul firstbegan to feel the proud confidence and conciousness of approachingmanhood?" demanded the Pequod, eyeing him intently. 

"There was, " answered the captive--"a little maiden. "

"And where is that bird now?"

"She is the wife of my bosom. _Is_, did I say--Alas! she may not beliving--she has undoubtedly perished by the hands of the accursedbeings who fired my dwelling, and chained the feet that would havecarried me, with the speed of a deer, to her side--and bound the handsthat would have unsheathed the sword of vengeance for her rescue. "

The Indian made no answer to this burst of passion, but looked for amoment kindly and compassionately on the poor captive, and thenrelapsed into silence. 

Early the next morning, the prisoner was awakened by the same man, whomotioned him to rise and follow him. The rest of the party were not insight. He obeyed, and they set out on their return, retracing theirsteps with the ease and accuracy, which, in every clime, belong to theforest hunter. Travelling rapidly, in silence, for two days, theyfound themselves on the morning of the third on the banks of his ownriver, the dark rolling Merrimack. Before the sun had reached thehighest part of the heavens, they came to a little hill, well andfondly remembered by the affectionate husband, though now conveyingagonizing hopes and fears. It overlooked the little valley where oncehis cabin stood, and where the ripe wheat still bowed itself, ingraceful undulations, before the light breeze of summer; and themighty chesnut-tree, blackened by the smoke of his burning dwelling, still looked with lordly pride on all its less stately neighbours. "Mywife!" he said, in an almost inaudible voice. 

"Thy bird will meet thee on another bough, " exclaimed the warrior. "Acrust of bread, and a drink of cold water, offered to a famishedIndian--a tear of pity, and a sigh of compassion, saved her and thee. "And his own dusky countenance exhibited a touch of feeling but seldomsuffered to cross the face of him who deems it dishonour to betray anemotion of pity, or compassion, or gratitude, or love(1). 

"I do not understand you, " said the white man, prisoner no longer. 

"Listen, " said the warrior--"The son of Annawan was caught, with thedove of his nest and her squab, far from his own dwelling, and amongthe men of thy colour. Thy race had killed or driven away the beastsof the chace; and there was nothing upon which the red archer couldshow the sleight of his hand and the truth of his eye. White menwould give him no food, but drove him from their cabins, saying, 'Youare an Indian. ' At the door of thy father--"

"He was not my father, " interrupted the other; "he was the brother ofmy mother. "

"At the door of the brother of thy mother hard words were showered onthe poor red man, and he was bidden to seek elsewhere the food forwhich his soul panted--not that he might eat it himself, but bestow itupon his famished wife and sick babe. Listen!

"There was a little maiden sitting at the door of the cabin--she wasnot grown to womanhood, nor dreamed yet of tender lovers--she was afawn in its second season, a tree wanting but a few more suns to beclothed with the blossoms of maturity. By her side sat a boy, whomight be two or three harvests older. The little maiden rose from thesmooth sward where she sat, and throwing her white arms around theneck of her father, begged hard for the strangers. The boy came, andjoined her in her prayers. The hardhearted man granted to theentreaties of his children what compassion would not bestow. TheIndian was fed--his wife was fed--his babe was fed. Dost thou hear?"

"I hear, " said the delighted hunter, grasping the hand of the noblewarrior, while tears streamed down his sun-burnt cheek. 

"That boy was the prisoner, whom the Pequods, four suns since, carriedaway from yonder vale--and the famished hunter was he who unbound thylimbs, and who saved that compassionate maiden, by the song he pouredinto the ears of his brothers, of an angry spirit, seen by the lightof the blazing cabin among the boughs of the chesnut-tree. 

"Learn, pale face, that an Indian can be grateful. A crust of bread, and a draught of water, bestowed upon the red man, or those he loves, weigh down the memory of a thousand wrongs--a kind look dispels thefrown from his brow--a kind word checks the purpose of vengeance, which, unchecked, is like a fire carried by a high wind to a field ofdry grass. Thou and thine did me a deed of kindness--preserved thelife of her whose bright eyes are the light of my cabin--and of theboy who will, one day, bend the bow of a hunter, and be taught toutter the cry of vengeance on the hills--fear not, thou art safe inthe land whence his fathers were banished. Thou and thine did this forthe Son of Annawan, the Fleet Foot of his tribe, and he will neverforget it--till the stars forget to shine, and the moon to become thelamp of the dark hours. Say, in the ears of the Fair Hair that I gaveher cabin to the devouring flames, before I knew it was hers. But theseason will soon come when the beaver will be sleek and glossy; and anotter worth more than an arrow--the spoils of the Fleet Foot's winterhunt shall rebuild the cabin of the flower of the the pale faces. "

So saying, the Son of Annawan, the great chief, who once was the lordof those boundless regions, disappeared in the forest, and was seen nomore among white men. 

NOTE. 

_Pity, or compassion, or gratitude, or love. _--p. 270. 

The Indians are extremely cool and circumspect in every word andaction; there is nothing that hurries them into any intemperatewarmth, but that inveteracy to their enemies, which is rooted in everyIndian heart, and can never be eradicated. In all other instances theyare cool, and remarkably cautious, taking care not to betray on anyaccount their emotions. If an Indian has discovered that a friend isin danger of being intercepted and cut off by one to whom he hasrendered himself obnoxious, he does not inform him in plain andexplicit terms of the danger he runs by pursuing the track near whichthe enemy lies in wait for him, but he drily asks him which way he isgoing that day, and, having received his answer, with the sameindifference tells him that he has been informed that a dog lies nearthe spot, which might probably do him a mischief. This hint provessufficient. 

This apathy often shows itself on occasions that would call forth thefervour of a susceptible heart. If an Indian has been absent from hisfamily and friends many months, either on a war or hunting party, whenhis wife or children meet him at some distance from his habitation, instead of the affectionate sensations that would naturally arise inthe breasts of more refined beings, and be productive of mutualcongratulations, he continues his course without paying the leastattention to those who surround him, till he arrives at his home. 

He there sits down, and, with the same unconcern as if he had not beenabsent a day, smokes his pipe; those of his acquaintance who havefollowed him do the same, and perhaps it is several hours before herelates to them the incidents which have befallen him during hisabsence, though perhaps he has left a father, brother, or son, on thefield, whose loss he ought to have lamented. 

Has an Indian been engaged for several days in the chace, and byaccident continued long without food, when he arrives at the tent of afriend, where he knows his wants may be immediately supplied, he takescare not to show the least symptom of impatience, or to betray theextreme hunger by which he is tortured; but, on being invited in, sitscontentedly down, and smokes his pipe with as much composure as ifevery appetite was allayed, and he was perfectly at ease; he does thesame among strangers. 

If you tell an Indian that his children have greatly signalizedthemselves against an enemy, have taken many scalps, and brought homemany prisoners, he does not appear to feel any extraordinary pleasureon the occasion; his answer generally is, "It is well, " and he makesvery little further enquiry about it. On the contrary, if you informhim that his children are slain, or taken prisoners, he makes nocomplaints; he only replies, "It does not signify, " and probably, forsome time at least, asks not how it happened. 

Their constancy in suffering pain exceeds any thing known of any otherpeople. Nothing is more common than to see persons of all ages, and ofboth sexes, suffer for many hours, and sometimes many days, together, the sharpest effects of fire, and all that the most ingenious crueltycan invent to make it most painful, without letting a sigh escape. 

Accustomed from their youth to innumerable hardships, they soon becomesuperior to a sense of danger, or the dread of death, and theirfortitude, implanted by nature, and nurtured by example, by precept, and by accident, never experiences a moment's allay. 

V. THE CASCADE OF MELSINGAH. 

The next night the ghost related to his eager listener the followingtradition:--

A very long time ago, many ages before the feet of a white man hadleft their print on these shores, or the voice of his axe had beenheard singing the song of destruction to the woods of our fathers, there dwelt in the Cascade of Melsingah, having his residence bydaylight in the wave, and by night on the high rock which stood in itscentre, a Spirit much reverenced by all the Indian nations. He wasoften seen by the Indian hunter, who passed that way soon after thegoing down of the sun. When seen at that hour, he appeared under thefigure of a tall and mighty warrior, with abundance of the gray plumesof the eagle on his head, and a gray robe of wolf-skin thrown aroundhim, standing upright upon his rock in front of the waterfalls. In theday time his appearance was more equivocal. Those who supposed theysaw him saw something swimming about the cascade, as a frog swimsunder the surface. But none were ever permitted to behold him near, and face to face. As the observer drew nigh, the figure graduallydisappeared, sinking into a kind of fog or mist; and in its place hefound only the white sheet of water that poured over the rock, fallingheavily among the gathering shadows into the pool below. Sometimes, also, but more rarely, he was seen in the early twilight beforesun-rise, preparing to retreat from the fountain; and fortunate wasthe hunter to whom he showed himself at that hour, for it was an omenof success in the chace. None of the spirits of the surroundingcountry were oftener beheld in dreams by the Indians that made theirhaunts above the mountains; and, when the forms of the dead from theland of souls came to their friends in the visions of night, they wereoften led by the hand of the gigantic warrior in the wolf-skin and theeagle-plumes. He was never known to inflict personal injury on anyone, and, therefore, was always considered as a kind and beneficentgenius, who would befriend mortals in all cases of distress, and lovedto behold them peaceful and happy. 

Several generations have passed away--trees that were young andthrifty have become aged and mossy; and men have forgotten the numberof the moons that have passed since there lived among the tribe whoowned the broad lands above the mountains[A], whose banks frown uponthe rapid river, a beautiful maiden, the daughter of a proud chief, whose name has not reached my time. But this we are told, that he wasthe greatest warrior of his day, fierce as the panther, and cunning asthe fox; and she more beautiful than the sky lit up with stars, andgentler than a summer day, or a young fawn. She had lost her mother inearly childhood; and, ere the suns of ten seasons had beamed on herhead, her father, who loved her tenderly, and had brought her up notto do the tasks which are generally allotted to Indian women andgirls, fell by the hand of disease, and she was left alone. Aremembrance of his affection, and of the agony she felt, and of thedeep tears she shed, at his loss, infused into her heart a softnessand pity which continued through life, and rendered her ever after anunwilling witness of the scenes of fire and torture to which thecustoms of war among her countrymen gave occasion. When her beloved, and to her, kind father, left the earth for the land of spirits, shelived in the lodges of the older warriors who had been his companionsin arms and brother councillors in the cabin where men met to debateon war and peace. Not in the cabins of the aged alone was she metwith joy. She was welcomed wherever she went with kindness andaffection; endeared to them as she was by the memory of the wise andbrave warrior, her father, and by her own gentle disposition. Whenthey spoke of her, they likened her, in their language, to whateverwas most beautiful, harmless, and timid, among the animals--the fawnof the wood, the yellow bird of the glades, a spring wind sweepingover a field of grass, a dove that had found its long absent mate. 

[Footnote A: The passage of the Highlands on the Hudson. ]

The beautiful maiden, of whom I am telling my brother, had beheld inher childhood, when her foot was little, and her heart trembling, theCascade of Melsingah, and the form of the Manitou had once beenrevealed to her, as the evening was setting in, standing in hiswolf-skin robes before the waterfall. After that she saw him often inher dreams, and, when she came to that age at which the children ofthe forest choose their protecting spirit, she chose for her's theSpirit of the Cascade of Melsingah. It was not long before acircumstance took place which strengthened her reverence and that ofher people for the good Spirit, and proved the interest he took in thewelfare of his beautiful charge. 

One day she went alone to his abode, to pay him her customaryofferings in behalf of herself, the friends she loved, and hernation; she carried in her hand a broad belt of wampum, and a whitehoneycomb from the hollow oak; and on her way she stopped and plaiteda garland of the gayest flowers of the season. On arriving at thespot, she went down into the narrow little glen, through which thebrook flowed before it poured itself over the rock, and, standing nearthe edge, she dropped her gifts, one by one, into the current whichinstantly carried them to the waterfall. The pool, into which thewater descends, was deeper than it is now; the continual crumbling andfalling of the rocks from above, for many an age, having partiallyfilled up the deep blue basin. The stream, too, at that time, had beenlately swelled by profuse rains, and rushed down the precipice with aheavier torrent, and a louder noise, than she had ever known it to dobefore. In approaching more nearly to the edge, and looking down tosee what had become of her offerings, she incautiously set her foot ona stone covered with the slimy deposit of the brook; it slipped, andshe was precipitated headlong with the torrent into the pool below. 

What followed she did not recollect--darkness, as deep as that of thegrave, came over her, and all was still and hushed to her. When shecame to her senses, she found herself lying on the margin of thepool, and awaking as if from an unpleasant sleep with a sensation offaintness at the heart. She thought at first that she must have beentaken from the water by somebody who belonged to her nation, andlooked round to see if any of them were near. But there was no humantrace or sound to be discovered: she heard only the whisper of thewind, and the rush of the cascade, and beheld only the still trunks, and waving boughs, the motionless rock, and the gliding water. Shespoke, thanking her deliverer, whoever he might be, in the softesttones of her soft voice, but there was no reply. On her return to thevillage where she lived, she made the most diligent enquiry to learnif any of her people had assisted her in the hour of danger, or if anything was known of her adventure. Nobody had heard of it--none of thetribe had passed by the cascade that day; and the maiden and all herpeople became fully convinced that she had been preserved from aviolent death by her guardian spirit--the Manitou of the waterfall. Her gratitude was in proportion to the benefit received; and everafterwards she paid an annual visit to the cascade at the season whenshe was thus miraculously rescued, sometimes alone, and sometimes incompany with the young females of her age. On these occasions, thedark rocks around were hung with garlands of flowers and belts ofwampum, and bracelets of beads were dropped into the clear water, anda song was chanted, commemorating the maiden's deliverance by thebenevolent spirit of the place. The woods around reverberated with themusic of those dark-haired maidens who had assembled to warble theirhymns of gratitude to the Manitou of the cascade. 

The Indians, who lived above the Mountains, and those who possessedthe country below, although belonging to the same great family of theLenni Lenape, were not always on friendly terms. At the time of whichI am telling my brother, there was a great quarrel between them, andthe calumet had been buried in the hole from which the hatchet hadbeen taken. An Indian of the tribe living above the mountains wasfound encroaching on the hunting-grounds below, and was killed in afierce dispute which ensued. His people anxiously sought anopportunity to revenge his death, nor was it long before it was putinto their hands. A young warrior of the lower tribe, burning with theardour of youth, and ambitious to signalize himself by some act ofheroic daring, boasted that, notwithstanding what had happened, hewould bring a deer from the hunting-grounds to the north of where thegreat river broke through the mountains. Accordingly, he set outalone in one of the light canoes which are used by Indians, on hisway up the river. He landed on the east bank, at the distance of aboy's walk of half a sun above the Cascade of Melsingah, and after nolong search had killed a deer, dragged the animal to the canoe, andput off from the shore. So far he had made good his boast, and wasbusily employed in picturing to himself the glory that awaited him onhis return, the loud praises of the men, and the silent, though moreeloquent ones of the maidens, when his dreams were put to flight bythe sudden coming upon him of his fierce and cunning enemies. Hismotions had been observed, and he had not yet gained the middle of theriver, when a canoe, in which were five northern Indians, made itsappearance, coming round the extremity of a woody peninsula, thatprojected with its steep bold shores far into the water. Immediatelyone of them bent his bow, and, raising it to his eye, levelled it inthe direction of the young Mohegan; but another, who seemed to be theleader of the party, placed his hand deliberately on the arrow, whichwas immediately laid down, and an oar taken up in its place. A singleglance served to show the warrior that they were all well armed, andthat his only chance of escape lay in reaching the shore before them, and trusting to the swiftness of his feet to effect his escape. Hetherefore plied his oar with great diligence, and his canoe shotrapidly over the water, but his enemies were gaining fast upon him, and it was now evident that they must overtake him before he couldreach the land. In an instant he had leaped into the water, anddisappeared; but his pursuers were too well aware of his object toslacken their exertions, and held on their way towards the shore. Whenhe rose again to the surface, their canoe was at no great distance. Two of the strongest of them plunged into the river; one of them, swimming with exceeding swiftness, soon overtook him, and seized himby the hair of the head. A desperate, but brief struggle ensued, inwhich both combatants went down. In a moment afterwards, the youngwarrior re-appeared without his antagonist, who was seen no more: buthis pursuers had already surrounded him. They secured him withoutdifficulty, carried him to the shore, and there binding his handsbehind him with a strong grape-vine, led him towards their village. 

The young Mohegan, finding all attempt to escape useless, resignedhimself to his fate, with all the indifference which an Indian alwaysassumes, though he may not feel it. At first he scarcely thought thathe should be put to death, for he knew that the people into whosehands he had fallen were celebrated throughout the land for themildness of their character, and their disposition to mercy; and herelied still more on their known dread of his own warlike andformidable tribe, equally famous for their disposition to have bloodfor blood, and to suffer no grass to grow in their paths till they hadtasted the sweets of revenge. However, he prepared himself for theworst, and began to steel his heart against the fear of death. He didwell, for, soon after they began their march, his captors commandedhim to sing his death-song. The youth obeyed, and in a strong deepchant began the customary boast of endurance and defiance of pain. Hesung of the glories of his nation, and how often they had made thehearts of their enemies, of his captors, leap with fear, and theirknees shake, by their wild halloo of war. He told them that, thoughhis years were few, he had seen a Northern die in his grasp; thoughhis eyes were but young, they had looked on the last struggle of oneof their brothers. He took up the strain at intervals, and in thepauses his conductors preserved a deep and stern silence. 

At length the party came upon a kind of path in the woods, which theyfollowed for a considerable distance, and then suddenly stopped short. All at once a long shrill startling cry burst from them. It was thedeath-cry for their drowned companion. It rang through the old woods, and was returned in melancholy echoes from the neighbouring mountains. At its frightful sound the birds flew up from their nestling-places inthe leafy thicket; the eagle, and the hawk, and the raven, soaredaloft; and the deer was seen scampering away to a safer and moredistant covert. When the last of their cries had died away, the partyput their hands to their mouths, and uttered a second cry, modulatedinto wild notes by the motion of their fingers. An interval of silenceensued, which was at length broken by a confused sound of shrillvoices at a distance, faintly heard at first, but growing every momentmore audible. In a minute two young warriors, who seemed to come by ashorter way than the usual path, broke through the shrubs, and tooktheir station, without speaking a word, by the party who wereconducting the prisoner. Presently a crowd of women and children fromthe village appeared in the path, shouting and singing songs ofvictory; and these were followed by a group of old men, who walked ingrave silence. As soon as they came up, the party resumed their march, and led their prisoner in triumph to the village. 

The village consisted of a cluster of cabins, irregularly scattered, as Indian villages always are, over a large space. It stood in anatural opening of the great forest, on the banks of a stream whichbrawled over a shallow, stony bottom between rocky banks, on its wayto mingle with the Great River. The Indian name of this wild streamwas Mawenawasigh. 

It happened well for the captive youth that the chiefs and principalwarriors of the tribe were absent on a hunting expedition, and it wasnecessary, in so grave a matter, to delay the decision of theprisoner's fate until their return, which was expected in a few suns. He was therefore taken to an unoccupied cabin and placed on a mat, bound hand and foot, and fastened with a strong cord made of thesinews of the deer to a tall post in the centre, supporting the roof. It was the office of one of his captors to keep watch over him duringthe day time, and at night two of them slept in his cabin. For thefirst two suns his prison was thronged with the idle, the revengeful, and the curious. The relatives of the drowned man, and of him who wasslain below the Mountains, came to taunt him on his helplessness, toassure him of the certainty of death by torture, and to exult in theprospect of a deadly vengeance. They pointed to him a stake driven inthe earth, to which a young Mohegan should be lashed, and a firekindled around him of the driest materials, while hot pincers wereapplied to know when his flesh was sufficiently roasted, to form asuitable dish for the banquet. Others came and gazed at him withunfeeling curiosity. I should have mentioned to my brother that he wasof Mohawk parents, the son of a warrior adopted into a Mohegan tribe, and that he possessed the stately and manly form, and the bold look, and the calm eye, which belongs to the former nation, and may betraced wherever their blood is found. They spoke to each other, commending his fine warlike air, his lofty stature, and well-turnedlimbs, and said that he would die bravely. One only seemed to regardhim with pity. A beautiful female face looked in several times at thedoor, and turned sorrowfully away. 

As the time for the return of the warriors drew near, the captive'scontempt for life, and his passion for a glorious death, diminishedmuch. His sleep was filled with dreams of the clear and pleasantwaters of his tribe, and his mind by day could not forbear busyingitself with the plans of glory and ambition which he had formed. Itwas hard, too, to leave a world in which dwelt such lovely beings asshe who had visited him with the tear of pity and sympathy bedewingher soft eye. It was worth while to live, he thought, if it were onlythat he might have the opportunity of convincing her that he was notungrateful, and that his heart, though shut to the fear of death, wasopen to her beauty and goodness. The artificial fortitude to which hehad wrought himself, in obedience to the principles which had beentaught him, began to waver, and the glory of a death of torture, andcalm endurance of pain, to lose its value in his eyes. "Would it notbe better, " said he to himself, "to share a long life with thebeautiful maiden, who has just left me, to drive the deer and the wolffor her sake, and to come home loaded with game in the evening, to thehearth that she should keep burning brightly for my return?"

Night came, but it brought no sleep to the young warrior, until itswatches had nearly expired. On awaking, he saw, through the openingthat served as a door to the cabin, that the great star of day wasrisen, and the surly Indian who guarded him was standing before it. The moments passed heavily away; no one came to the cabin save an oldwoman, who brought him his morning meal. The curiosity of the tribewas satisfied, and the relatives of the deceased were weary ofinsulting him. At length the shadow of a human figure fell upon thegreen before the door, and the next instant, the well remembered formand face of beauty made its appearance. The maiden laid her hand onthe shoulder of the sentinel, and pointed to the sky where a boldeagle was sailing away to the east. The majestic bird at lengthalighted on the top of a tall tree, at the distance of four or fivebowshots, balanced himself for a moment on his talons, then closed hiswings, and, settling on his perch, looked down into the village, as ifseeking for his prey. "If thy bow be faithful, and thy arrow keen, "said the maiden, "I will keep watch over the prisoner until thyreturn. " The Indian threw a glance at the captive, as if to assurehimself that everything was safe, and immediately disappeared in theforest. 

The young maiden then entered the cabin. As she approached thecaptive, a blush stole to her dark cheek, her eye was downcast, andher step trembling, and, when she spoke, her voice was low, but softas the whispers of the spring wind in a grove of willows. 

"I come to offer thee freedom. There is no time to be lost; to-morrowthe chiefs of my nation return, and then will thy guards for a sun bedoubled; the beams of the next shall light thee to torture and death. Beneath their vigilance thy escape becomes impossible. Mohegan, I amhere to restore to the young eagle his wings, and to cut the cordswhich bind the young panther of his tribe. "

"And flies the young eagle forth alone? goes the young panther to thethicket without a companion?" demanded the warrior. 

The maiden hid her eyes beneath their long black lashes, and saidnothing. The Mohegan continued:--

"Thou wilt give me liberty of my limbs, but thou leavest my heartfettered. Wilt thou not, my beautiful deliverer, be the partner of myflight? What will liberty be to me if thou art not the light of mycabin? Almost would thy presence and thy pity compensate for thetortures which await me if I remain. Is it not better for me to diewith thee beholding my constancy and patience in suffering, andrendering me the tribute of a tear as my spirit departs for the landof souls, than to go from thy presence sorrowing for the beautifulmaiden with the bright eyes, and fair hair, and ripe lip, andfawn-like step, whom I have left in the land of my foes? And what, mybeautiful deliverer, will be said by thy kindred if it be known, as itmust be, that thou hast aided my escape, and thus disappointed thevengeance of thy tribe? I would rather die, Bird of Beauty! by thedeath of fire than expose thee to the slightest peril. "

Why should I waste time in telling my brother what has been so oftentold? The heart of a young maiden in every nation is soft andsusceptible, and, when besieged by love and compassion, is toocertain to yield. The maiden made the warrior repeat over and overagain his promises of affection and constancy, as if they would be asecurity against any unfortunate consequence of the imprudence she wasgoing to commit. She ended by believing all he said, and by consentingto become his wife and the companion of his escape. "But I cannot goto thy tribe, " said she, "for then thou wouldst be obliged to raisethe tomahawk against my people, and I may not abide in the habitationof him who seeks to spill the blood of my friends. If thou wilt takeme for the guide of thy path, I will bring thee to a hiding-placewhere the arrows of thy enemies cannot reach thee, and where we mayremain sheltered till this cloud of war be overpast. "

The youth hesitated. "Nay then, " continued she, "I may not go withthee. I will cut thy cords, and the Good Spirit will guide thee to theland of thy friends. "

This was enough: love prevailed for once over the desire of warlikeglory, in the bosom of a descendant of the Mohawks, and it was settledthat the flight should take place that night. 

They had just arrived at this conclusion when the man who guarded theprisoner returned. He had been absent the longer because the eaglehad changed his perch, and had alighted on a tree at a still greaterdistance than at first. He had succeeded in bringing down the bird, and was now displaying its huge wings with great satisfaction at thesuccess of his aim. The maiden pulled from them a handful of the longgray feathers, as the reward of having shown the prize to the guard, and departed. 

The midnight of that day found the captive awake in the cabin, and hiskeepers stretched on a mat asleep at the door. They had begun toregard him with less vigilance because he had made no attempt, andshown no disposition, to escape. He thought he heard the light soundof a footstep approaching; he raised his head, and listenedattentively. Was it the rustling of leaves in the neighbouring woodthat deceived him, or the heavily drawn breath of the sleepers, or theweltering of the river on whose banks the village stood, or thecrawling of some beast of prey through the thicket, or the moving of aspirit? These were the only sounds he was now able to distinguish. Aray of moonlight shone through a crevice in the cabin, and fell acrossthe body of his sleeping guards. As his eye rested on this, he saw itgradually widening, and, soon after, the mat that hung over theopening which served for a door-way was wholly withdrawn, and thelight figure of the maiden appeared. She stepped cautiously andslowly over the slumbering guards, and, approaching the Mohegan with asharp knife, severed, without noise, the cords which confined him, and, stealing back to the door, beckoned him to follow. He did so, planting his foot at every step gradually on the floor from the pointto the heel, and pausing between, until he was out of the cabin. Hisheart bounded within him when he found himself standing in the freeair and the white moonlight, with his limbs unbound. He beheld his oldacquaintance, the stars, as bright and twinkling as ever, and saw withrapture the same river which rolled its dark and massy waters besidethe dwelling of his father. They took a path which led westwardthrough the woods, and, after following it for the distance of abowshot, the maiden turned aside, and took, from a thick clump ofcedars, a bow, a spear, and a well-filled quiver of arrows, which sheput into his hands. She next handed him a wolf-skin mantle, which shemotioned him to throw over his shoulder, and placed on his head a kindof cap on which nodded a tuft of feathers, which it may be rememberedshe had plucked from the wings of the eagle his sentinel had so latelykilled. They then proceeded rapidly but in silence. It was not longbefore they heard the small waves of the river tapping the shore;they descended a deep bank, and the broad water lay glittering beforethem in the moonlight. A canoe--his own canoe--he knew it at aglance--lay moored under the bank, and rocking lightly on the tide. They entered it; the warrior took one oar, the maiden another; theypushed off from the shore, and were speedily on their way down theriver. 

They glided by the shore, past the steep bank covered with tall trees, and past where the moonlight dimly showed, embosomed among themountains, a woody promontory, round which the river turned anddisappeared from view. 

They then reached the eastern shore, and passed close to the mouth ofthe Mattoavoan, where it quietly and sluggishly mingles with the greatriver, so close that they could hear from the depth of the woods theincessant dashing of the stream, leaping over the last of theprecipices that cross its channel. They continued to pass along underthe shore, until the roar of the Mattoavoan was lost to the ear. Theywere not far from the foot of the northernmost of the mountains washedby the Great River, when a softer and lighter rush of waters washeard. A rivulet, whose path was fenced on each side with thick treesand shrubs, bound together by vines of wild grape and ivy, came downover the loose stones, and fell with a merry gurgle into the watersbelow. It was the rivulet of Melsingah. The interlacing boughs andvines formed a low arch over its mouth, that looked like the entranceinto a dark cavern. The young maiden pointed towards it, and intimatedto the warrior that up that stream lay the path to that asylum whithershe intended to conduct him. At this he took his oar from the water, and in a low voice began to remonstrate with her on the imprudence ofremaining so near the haunts of his enemies. Long did they debate thematter, but when she had explained to him what he had heard somethingof before, the profound reverence in which the Cascade of Melsingah, intended by her as the place of their retreat, was held, and relatedthe interposition of its benevolent spirit in behalf of her own life, he was satisfied, and turned his canoe to the shore. They landed, andthe warrior taking the light barque on his shoulders, they passedthrough the arch of shrubs and vines up the path of the rivulet, andsoon stood by the cascade. The maiden untied from her neck a string ofbeads, and copper ornaments, obtained from the Indians of the islandof Manhahadoes, dropped them into the water, and murmured a prayer forsafety and protection to the Manitou of the place. On the western sideof the deep glen in which they found themselves was a shelf of rockprojecting from the steep bank, which has long since crumbled away, and under this the warrior and his beautiful guide concluded toshelter themselves till morning. 

Scarcely had they seated themselves upon this shelf of rock, whenslowly uprose from the centre of the pool a being of immenseproportions, habited in a wolf-skin robe, and wearing on his head ahigh tuft of eagle's feathers. It was the Manitou of the Cascade. Approaching the trembling pair, who feared his anger for theirintrusion on his retreat, he said in a voice which resembled therattling of his own waterfall, "Why are ye here?" The maiden relatedher story to him, and claimed his protection for herself and lover. Heappeared to be a spirit of few words, for he only said in reply, "Yeshall have it. The disguise you have provided, the wolf-skin robe, andthe tuft of eagle feathers, are of the earth--they will not disguiseyou--take mine. " So saying, he gave the Mohegan his own robe and tuft, and received in exchange those which the cunning maiden had providedfor her lover. After counselling them in brief words to apply to himwhenever they were in difficulty, he disappeared in the pool. 

The return of light showed the inhabitants of the Indian village onthe Mawenawasigh in unwonted bustle and confusion. All the warriorswere out; the track of the fugitives was sought for, discovered, andfollowed to the bank of the Great River. The print of their steps onthe sand, the marks of the canoe where it had been fastened to thebank, and of the oars where they had been planted to shove it awayfrom the shore, left no doubt that the warrior had carried off thebeautiful maiden to his own tribe, and all pursuit was abandoned. 

In the mean time, the warrior was occupied in constructing ahabitation. A row of poles was placed against the projecting shelf ofrock, which thus served for a roof; these were covered with leafybranches, and over the whole was laid a quantity of dead brushwood, soirregularly piled, as when seen at a little distance to give nosuspicion of human design. The inmates of this rude dwelling subsistedon game found in the adjacent forest, on fish from the mouth of therivulet, and on the fruits and roots of the soil. Their wants were fewand easily supplied, and they were happy. 

One day, as the lover was sitting at the door of his cabin, he heardthe voices of two persons in the wood, who seemed to be approachingthe place. He saw that if he attempted to hide himself by going in, they might enter the glen, and discover the secret of his retreat. Ashe was clothed in the dress of the spirit, he believed that it wouldbe better to present himself boldly to their view, and trust forsafety to his personation of the good Manitou. He therefore took uphis bow, which was lying beside him, and placed himself in an uprightmotionless attitude on the edge of the pool, in front of the waterfalling over the rock. In a moment two Indians of the tribe of themaiden made their appearance coming through the trees. At sight of themajestic figure in the gray mantle and plumes, and armed with a bow, magnified by their fears to thrice the real weight and size, theystarted, and uttered an exclamation of surprise. He waved his bow, motioning them away. One of them threw towards him a couple of arrowheads, which he carried in his hand, and which fell into the water atthe warrior's feet, sprinkling him with the spray they dashed up; and, making gestures of reverence and supplication, the two Indiansinstantly retired. 

Thus the time passed--swiftly and pleasantly passed--from the end ofthe Planting Moon to the beginning of that of Harvest. As my brotherknows the wants of Indian life are few, and easily supplied; and forthe little inconveniences that might attend their situation, thetradition says that the inmates of the glen of Melsingah found acompensation in their mutual affection. Occasionally they saw thekind Manitou come forth from the Cascade to breathe the evening air, and when he did so, they invariably retired to their bower. At length, when the warrior had one day ventured across the ridge that rose southand east of the cascade, and was hunting in the deep valley beyond, hecame suddenly upon an Indian of his own tribe, who immediatelyrecognised him. An explanation took place, in the course of which helearned that a peace had been made between his nation, the Mohegans, and that which dwelt above the Mountains. The Mohawks, who lorded itover both nations with a rigid authority, and claimed the right ofmaking war and peace for them, having heard of their differences, haddespatched one of their chiefs to adjust them, and to command the twotribes to live in friendship. "My children, " said Garangula, theMohawk, in a council to which the chiefs of both tribes were called, "it is not good that ye who are brethren should spill each other'sblood. If one of you have received wrong at the hands of the other, your fathers of the Five Nations will see that justice is done betweenyou. Why should ye make each other few? Once ye destroyed yourselvesby your wars, but, now that ye dwell together under the shadow of thegreat tree of the Five Nations, it is fitting that ye should be atrest, and bury the tomahawk for ever at its root. Learn of your ownrivers. The streams of Mattoavoan, and Mawenawasigh, after struggling, and wasting their strength among the rocks, mingle at length in peacein the bosom of the father of waters, the Great River of theMountains. " The council, since they could do no better, approved ofthe words of Garangula; it was agreed that the relations of the hunterslain below the Mountain should be pacified by a present of a belt ofwampum and shells, and the chiefs smoked the pipe of peace together, and delivered belts of wampum as the memorials of the treaty. 

The warrior hastened to the glen of Melsingah to communicate theintelligence to his beloved maiden. Their retreat was instantlyabandoned, not, however, without some regret at leaving a place whereso many happy days had been passed; the birch canoe was borne to themouth of the river, and after taking his bride, at her earnestentreaty, to visit her own tribe, the warrior descended with her tohis friends below the mountains. Long was the waterfall visited by theIndians, and it is only since the axe of the white man has been heardin the adjoining forest that the good Manitou has retreated from theCascade of Melsingah. 

LEGEND OF COATUIT BROOK[A]. 

[Footnote A: The genuine tradition imputed but a part of the labour ofploughing out Coatuit Brook to the lover of Awashanks. It wascommenced, according to the Indians, from a motive of benevolencerather than love. The Indians were much in want of fresh water--a verylarge trout, with the intention of supplying it, forced his way fromthe sea into the land. It proved too much for his strength, however, and he died in the attempt. It was finished by the heroine of thislegend, who ploughed the sward through to Sanctuit Pond. ]

There was once amongst the Marshpees--a small tribe who have theirhunting-grounds on the shores of the Great Lake, and near the Cape ofStorms[A]--a woman whose name was Awashanks. She was rather silly andremarkably idle. For days together she would sit doing nothing, whilethe other females of the village were busily employed in weeding thecorn, or bringing home fuel from the distant wood, or drying the fish, or thatching the cabins, or mending the nets, or their husbands'apparel, or preparing the weapons of the chace. Then she was so veryugly and ill-shapen that not one of the youths of the village wouldhave aught to say to her by way of courtship or marriage. She squintedvery much; her face was very long and thin; her nose excessively largeand humped; her teeth crooked and projecting; her chin almost as sharpas the bill of a loon, and her ears as large as those of a deer andsimilarly shaped. Her arms, which were very long, were nothing butfleshless bones; and the legs upon which she stood seemed like twopine poles stript of their bark. Altogether she was a very odd andstrangely formed woman, and wherever she went never failed to excitemuch laughter and derision among those who thought that ugliness anddeformity were fit subjects for ridicule. 

[Footnote A: Cape Cod. ]

Though exceedingly ugly, as I have told my brother, there was onefaculty she possessed in a more remarkable degree than any woman thathad ever lived in the tribe--it was that of singing. Nothing--unlesssuch could be found in the land of spirits--could equal the sweetnessof her voice, or the beauty of her songs. Her favourite place ofresort was a small hill, a little removed from the river of herpeople, and there, seated beneath the shady trees, she would whileaway the hours of summer with her charming songs. So soft andbeautiful were the things she uttered, that, by the time she had sunga single sentence, the branches above her head would be filled withthe birds that came thither to listen, and the thickets around her, and the waters rolling beside her, would be crowded with beasts andfishes attracted to the nearest brink or covert by the same sweetsounds. From the minnow to the porpoise, from the sparrow to theeagle, from the snail to the lobster, from the mouse to the mole--allhastened to the spot to listen to the charming songs of the hideousMarshpee maiden. And various, but sufficiently noisy and dissonant, were the means by which the creatures testified the delight andadmiration produced by the sounds which had drawn them thither. 

Amongst the fishes, who repaired every night to the vicinity of theLittle Hillock, which was the chosen resting-place of the uglysongstress, was the great war-chief of the Trouts, a tribe of fishesinhabiting the river near by, and who, as my brother knows, generallymake the cold and pebbly stream their place of residence. It is achosen sport of theirs to hide among the roots of trees which standnear the brink of their favourite streams. They are a very cunning andshy people, and seldom fail, by their cunning and shyness, to escapeall the snares laid for them by their enemies. The chief of thetribe, who dwelt in the river of the Marshpees, and who was also theirguardian spirit, was of a far larger size than the people of hisnation usually are, being as long as a man, and quite as thick, whichmy brother knows is a size that few of his people attain. But, toenable my brother to account for his great size, it is only necessaryto tell him that the mother of this great trout was a monstrousflounder. 

Of all the creatures which came to listen to the singing of Awashanks, none appeared to enjoy it so highly as the Chief of the Trouts. As hisbulk prevented him from approaching as near as he wished, he, fromtime to time, in his eagerness to enjoy the music to the bestadvantage, ran his nose into the ground, and thus soon worked his waya considerable distance into the greensward. Nightly he continued hisexertions to approach the source of the delightful sounds he heard;till at length he had ploughed out a wide and handsome brook, andeffected his passage from the river to the hill whence that musicissued--a distance exceeding an arrow's flight. Thither he repairedevery night at the commencement of darkness, sure to meet the maidenwho had become so necessary to his happiness. Soon he began to speakof the pleasure he enjoyed, and to fill the ears of Awashanks withfond protestations of his love and affection. Instead of listening, itwas not long before he was listened to. It was something so new andstrange to the maiden to hear the tones of love and courtship; a thingso unusual to be told that she was beautiful, and to be pressed tobestow her heart upon a suitor; that it is not strange that her head, never very strong, became completely turned by the new incident in herlife, and that she began to think the gurgling speech of the lover thesweetest she had ever heard. There, upon the little hillock, beneaththe shade of lofty trees, she would sit for a whole sleep, listeningto the sweetest sounds her ears had ever heard; the while testifyingher affection for her ardent lover by feeding him with roots and otherfood in which he delighted. But there were obstacles to theaccomplishment of their mutual wishes, which they knew not how toovercome. He could not live on the land above two minutes at a time, nor she in the water above thrice that period. This state of thingsgave them much vexation, occasioning many tears to be shed by themaiden, and perplexing much her ardent lover. 

They had met at the usual place one evening, discoursing of thesethings, and lamenting that two so fond and affectionate should bedoomed to live apart, when a slight noise at the shoulder of themaiden caused her to turn her head. Terror filled her bosom when shefound that it proceeded from a little striped man, scarcely higherthan a tall boy of ten seasons. He wore around his neck a string ofglittering shells, and his hair, green as ooze, was curiously wovenwith the long weeds which are found growing upon the rocks at thebottom of the Great Lake. His hands and feet were shaped like the finsof fish, and his head was that of a great haddock. His body wascovered with scales like any other scaly fish; indeed, except that hewalked erect like a human being, and had two legs, and two arms, andthat his eyes were not placed as the eyes of fish are, he might wellhave been taken for a fish of a kind not before known. Having surveyedthe lovers for a short time in silence, he demanded "why they were sogloomy and downcast. "

The bashfulness of the maiden prevented her replying, but the Chief ofthe Trouts answered that "they loved each other, and wished to livetogether, but that the maiden could not exist in his element, nor hein her's; and hence it appeared they were never to know the joys whichare tasted by those who have their dwelling in one cabin. "

"Be not grieved nor hopeless, " answered the Spirit; "the impedimentscan be removed. I am the genius that presides over the fishes, and wasinvested at the beginning with power to procure for them all theenjoyments they are susceptible of tasting. I cannot transform a troutinto a man--that must be effected by a spirit of the earth--but I canwork the transformation of a man into a trout--under my charm theMarshpee maiden shall become a beautiful fish of the same species withthe chief. "

With that he bade Awashanks follow him into the river. When they hadwaded in to a considerable depth, he took up a handful of water andthrew it upon the head of the maiden, pronouncing certain words ofwhich none but himself knew the meaning. Immediately a changecommenced upon her, attended with such pain and distress that the veryair resounded with her cries. Her body became in a few moments coveredwith scales; her ears, and nose, and chin, and arms, disappeared, andher two legs became joined, forming that part of a fish which iscalled the tail--she became a complete trout. Having fullyaccomplished the task of transformation, the Genius of the Fishesdelivered her to the Chief of the Trouts. The pair were soon observedgliding side by side, very lovingly, into the deep and quiet waters. But, though she had become a trout, she did not forget the land of herbirth. Every season, on the same night as that upon which herdisappearance from the tribe had been wrought, there would be seen twotrouts, of a magnitude surpassing fifty-fold any ever caught by theMarshpees, busily employed in ploughing out the brook. They continuedthe labour or sport, whichever it may be called, till the pale-facescame to the country, when, deeming themselves in danger from a peoplewho paid no reverence to the spirits of the land, they bade adieu forever to _Coatuit, or the Brook of the Great Trout_. 

THE SPIRITS OF VAPOUR. 

There was, among the Knisteneaux, in the days that are past, a verywise chief, who was also the greatest medicine-man that ever dwelt inthe nation. He knew all the herbs, and plants, and roots, and barks, which were good for the curing of diseases: and, better still, thewords, and charms, and prayers, and ceremonies, without which theywere not effective. He could call down rain from the clouds, andforetell the approach of storms, and hail, and tempests, beyond anyman that ever lived in the nation. Had not his worship of the Ki-jaiManitou, or Great Spirit, been sincere, frequent, and fervent, thesethings had not been; he would have found his prayers unheard, orunheeded, or unanswered--he would have seen his skill baffled, and hischarms and medicines impotent and ineffective. But he was beloved bythe Great Spirit, and thence came his wisdom, and power, and strength, and success; and thence, my brother knows--for he is himself a wisepriest and a cunning man--come the wisdom, and strength, and power, and success, of all men, whether white like him, or red like myself. 

But, if this good and prudent priest of the Knisteneaux was beloved bythe Great Spirit, he was equally hated by the Matchi Manitou, orSpirit of Evil. This bad being, who is the opposite to him that sendsgood gifts to the Knisteneaux, delights in mischief, and is bestpleased when he has wrought injury or distress to mankind, and broughtupon them ruin and dismay, hunger, nakedness, want, sickness, pain, disgrace, seeing how much Makusue, for that was the name of thepriest, interfered with his schemes of testifying his hatred to men, was always making him feel the weight of his vengeance, and thwartinghis plans for the benefit of the nation by every means in his power. If Makusue went to gather _Moscharnewatchar_[A], he was sure to findthe Evil Spirit perched near, trying to frighten him away; if he wentto dig the _Ehawshoga_[B], his enemy had certainly caused the earth tofreeze, that he might be defeated of his object. If Makusue wished tocross the lake, the wind was sure to blow violently the moment heentered his canoe, and rain to drench him before he left it. If hesought an opportunity to surprise the Coppermines, the Evil Spiritflew with the speed of a loon before a high wind to apprise them ofhis intentions. Equally great was the hatred of Makusue for the EvilSpirit. If he found any one disposed to worship him, he wasindefatigable in his endeavours to detach him from him. He neverfailed to make sport and derision of him when he was raging, nor toshout and halloo after him when he saw him flying over, nor to set thedogs upon him, when he was prowling about the village at midnight. Sothere was a bitter warfare kindled between the Matchi Manitou and thegood priest, and each did the other all the harm he could. Bothgrinned at each other whenever they met, like a couple of cross dogswho have found a bone, or a woman at her husband who brings a youngerwife to supplant her in place and affection. 

[Footnote A: Mos-char-ne-wat-char--"It causes heat and cold"--Indianbalsam, said to be one of the most valuable articles belonging to theIndian class of remedies. They give an infusion of it in colds, coughs, asthmas, and consumptions. ]

[Footnote B: Ehawshoga--"Bite the mouth"--Indian turnip, another oftheir remedies. ]

But, at length, the success of Makusue in drawing away worshippersfrom his enemy became so great, that the latter feared the utterdis-peopling of his Hunting-Grounds, or Land of Wicked Souls. To himthe greatest enjoyment was that of tormenting the spirits of men, andthis enjoyment, if Makusue continued his course of success, he waslikely to be deprived of. So he went to the Great Spirit and spoke tohim thus:--

"When _we_ made man, did we not agree that I should take the souls ofthe wicked, and thou those of the good?"

"We agreed that thou shouldst take the souls of the wicked, and I thesouls of the good, " answered the Great Spirit. "And wilt thou say thatthe agreement has not been kept?"

"Thou hast not broken it, nor have I, and yet it is broken. "

"In what way, and by whom then, is it broken?"

"By Makusue, the priest and chief of the Knisteneaux. "

"What has Makusue done?"

"Baffled and thwarted me in every pursuit: if one proposes to offer mesacrifice, along comes Makusue and extinguishes the fire. There isdeath written on the face of another, but Makusue speaks powerfulwords over the _mastinjay_[A], the patient drinks it, gets well, and Iam the loser. Thus I am deprived of the pleasing occupation oftormenting the wicked. There is nobody dies now that belongs to me. "

[Footnote A: Dittany, used by the Indians as a remedy for variousdiseases. ]

"What wouldst thou have me do?" demanded the Great Spirit. "Makusue isa good servant, and a very honest priest. I cannot allow him to beharmed. But that thou mayst not altogether want business, I will allowthee to torment, for three suns and three sleeps, the souls of all theKnisteneaux that belong to me--the souls of the wicked remain thine. But thou shalt kindle the flames to burn them in the low and marshygrounds only. "

"It is well, " answered the Evil Spirit. "I will see that the fireshall be kindled in the low and marshy grounds only. "

So the Evil Spirit, much pleased with his bargain, returned to theland of the Knisteneaux to watch for the souls of their dead, and theGreat Spirit winged his way back to the Mountain of Thunder. 

When it was told Makusue of the agreement which the Great Spirit hadmade with the Spirit of Evil, grief for his people filled the heart ofthe good priest. At nightfall he repaired to the hill, with olay uponhis hair, and addressed his master thus:

"I have served thee long, and thou didst say faithfully, yet thou hastgiven the souls of my people that I have brought to thee into thehands of the Evil Spirit, to be tormented for three suns and threesleeps. "

"I know that I have done this, " answered the Master. "Is it not well!"

"Thou canst not do otherwise than well, " answered the priest; "and yetwhy should those be punished, even for so short a period, whom thouhast deemed worthy to live in the Happy Hunting-Grounds for everafter?"

"What thou sayest has reason with it, Makusue, " answered the GreatSpirit. "It was not well advised in me to grant so great a favour tothe Matchi Manitou. But it is said, and cannot be recalled. "

"But it may be evaded, " answered the cunning priest. 

"How?" demanded the Master. 

"Thou hast told the Evil Spirit that he may torment the souls of theKnisteneaux for three suns and three sleeps, taking care to kindle thefire in the low and marshy grounds only. "

"I have. "

"Let the souls of the dead, as thou hast said, repair to those spots, but let them first take a form which it shall not be in the power ofthe Evil Spirit to torture. Let them repair thither in the form of fogor vapour. "

"It is well, " answered the Great Spirit. So he bade the spirit of eachKnisteneau, immediately on its leaving the body, to wear for threesuns and three sleeps the form of fog or mist. It was by this trickof the wise Makusue's, that the souls of our people were reprievedfrom the tortures which the Matchi Manitou was preparing for them. Andstill does the same thing continue. When the breath of a Knisteneauleaves the body, it repairs for the allotted period to the low marshygrounds, where it becomes fog and vapour. If my brother will go to oneof those spots, upon either of the three days next following the deathof a Knisteneau, he will see that my words are not the words of amocking-bird, but of a man who knows that the anger of the GreatSpirit will be upon him, if he does not speak the truth. 

THE DEVIL OF CAPE HIGGIN. 

A long time ago, before the occupation of the Island of Nope by thewhite people, there dwelt, upon the north side, and near its westernend, a spirit or goblin--a very good-natured, peaceable, clever, oldfellow, very fond of laughter and a good joke. The Indians called him_Moshup_, which signifies a very bad Spirit, but, when the whitepeople came, they named him with reference to the little elbow, orpromontory of land, where he had his usual residence, the Devil ofCape Higgin. There is another tradition, in which, it is said, that heonce lived upon the main land, opposite Nope, and near the brook whichwas ploughed out by the Great Trout[A]. It was said, that Moshup cameto Nope in search of some children, which had been carried away by agreat bird, and finding the spot pleasant, people clever, and foodabundant, concluded to take up his abode there[B]. 

[Footnote A: See the "Legend of Coatuit Brook, " p. 307 of this vol. ]

[Footnote B: See "The Legend of Moshup, " v. Ii, p. 261. ]

Moshup, the Devil of Cape Higgin, was by no means so bad as his titleimplies. Faults he had, it is true, but no one is without faults. Andthen, compared with the vices of men, the vices of the devil sunk intomere trifles. He was a little loose in his morals, and withal, rathercross to his wife, but he made up for the latter fault by hisunwearied attentions to the wives of his neighbours. He gave into veryfew indulgences, drank nothing stronger than water, and never ate morethan a small whale, or five or six porpoises, at one meal. Hisgreatest indulgence was in smoking the Indian weed, which he did toexcess. He was moderate in his exactions from the Indians, requiring, as a tribute, only a tenth part of all the whales, grampusses, andfinbacks, which might be taken by the inhabitants of the Island, together with all the porpoises caught in the Frog-Month. The evil ofscarcity, so it was not occasioned by indolence, he bore with muchcomposure. But, if a cheat were attempted to be practised upon him, bysending him the poorest fish, or if any part of his share wasabstracted, if a porpoise or a halibut was hidden, or the head of afinback sunk, with a buoy attached to it, or the fin of a whale buriedin the sand, he showed most terrific symptoms of wrath and anger, andnever failed to make the Indians pay dearly for their roguery. Butthose who dwelt in his vicinity, indeed all liable to be called uponfor tithes, little disposed at any time to battle with spirits anddemons, paid their dues with great promptitude, and so seldom came incollision with their grim and powerful neighbour. To tell my brotherthe truth, it was not for their interest to quarrel with him. He wasof much importance to them in many of their pursuits, and assistedthem with a great deal of good advice and sound and profitablecounsel. He frequently directed them to a fine school of black-fish, or bade them see whales, or man their canoes for the chase of thefinback; he told them when to plant and gather in their corn, andforetold to them the approach of storms with an accuracy productive ofthe greatest advantages to them. He also assisted the young people intheir courtships up to the time of joining hands, but this it waswhispered he did from a disposition very proper to a naughty beinglike himself, who could not fail to find his account in multiplyinghuman miseries, and thereby increasing the chances of their going tothe dominions of Hobbamock, his master. Was any little rogue of amaiden solicited to become the wife of a youth, and her parents stoodout to the time of more usquebagh, who but Moshup was called in tonegociate for a less quantity? If a father said, "It shall not be, "and Moshup could be prevailed on to say, "It shall be, " the fatherwas sure to find a pretext for changing his mind. If a young woman wasbeloved by one, and she pouted and pretended indifference, three wordsfrom Moshup were sure to make her reasonable. And, when women weremuch given to scolding, he had, somehow, a singular knack at tamingthem. Taking every circumstance into view, it will be readilyconcluded that he was a favourite with the Indians; indeed some of ourfathers say, that he was once their grand Sachem; the greater part, however, think he was the first governor of the whites, and this Ibelieve. 

But spirits and demons, as well as the children of this world, whetherwhite or red, are subject to changes of opinion and conduct--to manywhims and phantasies. Moshup grew harsh and ill-natured as he grewolder. The change was first felt in his own family, the peace of whichwas soon destroyed by continual strife and quarrelling. He would beathis old woman for nothing, and his children for a great deal less. Hesoon began to harass his subjects with new demands and querulousexactions. He now frequently demanded the half of a whale instead of atenth, or took, without asking, the whole of a grampus or finback. Instead of contributing his aid to promote marriages, he was verydiligent in preventing them; instead of healing love-quarrels, he didhis best to make them irreconcileable. He broke many well-orderedmatches, and soured much matrimonial bliss, set many friendly familiesby the ears, and created frequent wars between the different tribes ofthe Island. The wild ducks he frightened with terrific shouts, so thatthe Indian archer could no longer come near them; he cut the springesset for grouse and woodcocks--in short, he became a very troublesomeand dangerous spirit. There was, however, no use in fretting; he wasseated firmly on their necks, and there was no shaking him off. So theIndians bore his freaks with great patience, calmly took up with theoffal of the whale, and only adopted the precaution of removing as farfrom him as possible. His harsh behaviour unpeopled his neighbourhood;and soon the little elbow of land, which the white people call CapeHiggin, had, for its only occupants, the Spirit Moshup and his family. 

Upon the southern shore of the same Island of Nope, at a distance often or twelve miles from the residence of Moshup, lived, at the sameperiod of time, Hiwassee, the proud and arbitrary Sachem of thatportion of the Island which lies most exposed to the fogs of spring. He was a very rich and mighty man, had abundance of grape-vines, and avast many ponds, well stocked with clams, oysters, perch, crabs, andwild fowl; many swamps filled with terrapins and cranberries; and muchland, well adapted to the growing of maize and other good things. Hewas accounted the most powerful Sachem on the Island. He was, besides, on excellent terms with Moshup, and so escaped all taxes, contributions, and tenths, merely now and then making him a present ofa few baskets of grapes, or a few terrapins. This Sachem had adaughter, young, and more beautiful than any maiden that had ever beenseen in Nope. She was taller than Indian maidens generally are, herhair was long and glossy as the raven's, and her step very light andgraceful. Then she excelled very far the women of her tribe in theexercises which belong to the other sex. None drew the bow with equalstrength, or tortured the prisoner with so much ingenuity, or dancedthe war-dance with equal agility, or piped the war-song with lungs asefficient. I must tell my brother that, according to the tradition ofour nation, the Indian females were first taught by her to introducethe crab's claw into the cartilage of the nose, and to insert theshell of a clam into the under-lip, as ornaments. She was, indeed, abeautiful creature, and understood better than any one else the art ofattracting all the brave and best of the land; the love andadmiration of the other sex followed her whithersoever she went. Herfather's wigwam was filled with the suitors who came to solicit herlove. There were the chiefs of the tribes which dwelt at Neshamoyes, Chabbaquiddic, Popannessit, Suckatasset, and many other places;warriors, famed and fearless, who asked her of the Grand Sachem inmarriage. But no, she was deaf to their entreaties, laughed at alltheir presents of conch-shells, terrapins, and eagle's feathers, andcarefully and scrupulously barred the doors of her father's wigwamagainst all the suitors, who, according to the Indian forms ofcourtship, came when the lights were extinguished and the parents weresleeping, to whisper soft tales at the side of her couch. The truth, which must be told my brother, is, that she had long before placed heraffections upon a young warrior, stern to his enemies, but to her allgentleness, who dwelt at the western end of the Island, and wasreckoned the favourite, some said he was the son, of the Devil of CapeHiggin. They had loved each other long, and with the truestaffection(1), and all their hopes centered in a union. 

But my brother knows--if he does not I will tell him--that fathers andmothers will not always permit daughters to have their own way inmarriage. The proud father objected to the lover, because he hadslain but three foes, and was not descended from a line of chiefs, distinguished by their wisdom or valour. What was to be done? Thelovers talked the matter over and over again, and finally determinedto apply to Moshup, for his aid and advice. They forthwith repaired tothe usual residence of the goblin. It was a most auspicious moment;they found him in a delirium of joy. A school of whales, in a recentdark night, becoming bewildered, had foundered upon a neighbouringledge of rocks, and a great many fine calves had been deposited at themouth of his cave as his share. Withal a brother goblin, residingsomewhere upon the main land, had sent him some excellent old tobacco;and these, with the occurrence at the happy moment of other enliveningcircumstances, had wrought him up to such unusual good temper that hequite forgot his very recent determination to annoy all lovers, andpromised to befriend the hapless pair. He rose from his seat, put afew hundred pounds of tobacco in his pouch, took a half-roastedgrampus from the coals to pick by the way, and set off forSanchequintacket, the place of Hiwassee's residence: the young warriorperched upon his shoulder, and the maiden, reposing on a litter formedby his arm, lay horizontally on his breast. 

Moshup was no devil with wings, but he had two legs, and could usethem to much advantage. So he set off at a pretty smart trot, and wasvery soon at the end of his journey. He found the Grand Sachem busy ata feast, but this did not prevent him from telling his errand at once. With great calmness and in perfect silence, for he was not in one ofhis talkative fits, he heard the maiden's father give his reasons forrefusing his daughter to the lover. They were those which have been athousand times urged before--"Poverty--poverty--low parentage--lowparentage; not sufficiently known--not sufficiently celebrated. "

"Is this all you have to say against the young man, you old fool?"asked Moshup. "What do you want? What must the young man have?"

"He must have a great deal of land--he must have an island, " answeredHiwassee. 

"Good, " said Moshup, drawing a huge quantity of smoke into his mouth, and blowing it out through his nose: "follow me!"

At the time whereof I speak, the island of Nope extended to andcomprehended the little island of Tuckanuck. The little island wasthen a part of the larger island; but once upon a time there came agreat storm, the winds raged and the thunders rolled, and the stormsbeat upon the island, and it was disjointed and became two islands. Toa high cliff, upon the eastern side of this same Tuckanuck, Moshupconducted Hiwassee, his daughter, her lover, and a great crowd ofother Indians, who followed to see what wonderful feat he wouldperform. Being arrived, he sat down upon the ground, and commenced hischarm. First he dug a great hole in the earth, into which he threwmany heated stones, the while muttering many words, which no one buthimself understood. Then he filled his pipe with tobacco, kindling itwith the rays from a flash of lightning. When this was done, he bowedonce to the rising sun, twice to the North Star, blew thrice in aconch-shell, muttered more unintelligible words, and commenced smokingat a great rate. In a few minutes it was as dark as the darkest night, and a terrible tempest arose. The thunders rolled awfully, thelightnings flashed, the rains poured down, and abundance of voiceswere heard in the east, puffing and blowing as of men in great labour. Presently there was a hissing sound, like that of live embers droppedinto water--Moshup had emptied his pipe. There now came up a strongwind from the west, which, gradually dispersing the smoke he hadcreated, displayed to their view a low dark something in the east. Itwas the promised island--the ashes from Moshup's pipe. The couple uponwhom Moshup bestowed this island gave it the name of Nantucket, andsuch it bears at this day. 

I have no more to say. 

NOTE. 

(1) _Loved each other with the truest affection. _--p. 327. 

It has been the practice to accuse American Indians of great coldnessof temper, and to represent them as incapable of sincere and permanentattachment. It is a mistake. It is true that on the part of the malesall expressions of affection are repressed, from the belief that thedisplay of any passion or emotion inflicts deep and indelible disgraceupon a man, especially if he is a warrior. This is the mere result ofeducation, and proves nothing. It is certain that the females, whomthe tyranny of opinion does not bind in this respect, are full oftenderness and assiduity. The story of Pocahontas is too well known tobe repeated. When Mr. Nutall was with the Osages, he was nearwitnessing a tragical termination to a trifling dispute, from thebelief of an Indian wife that harm was intended to her husband. Shehad been several years married to a French hunter, living with thattribe. Soon after the arrival of a trader at the Indian camp, intoxication had taken place, and a quarrel ensued between the husbandof this woman and another of the French hunters. Their altercationfilled her with terror, and she gave way to tears and lamentations, not doubting but that the antagonist, who was the aggressor, intendedthe death of her husband, as threats among Indians are the invariablepreludes to fatal actions. When, at length, they began to strugglewith each other, without any more ado she seized a hatchet, and wouldinstantly have dispatched the man who fought with her husband, if shehad not been prevented by the bystanders. In another instance anOmawhaw and his wife, on a solitary hunting expedition, werediscovered at a distance from their temporary lodge, by a Siouxwar-party. They endeavoured to escape from the enemy, but the wife wassoon overtaken, struck to the ground, and subjected to the terribleoperation of scalping. The husband, although at this time beyond thereach of the arrows of the Sioux, seeing his wife in their hands, immediately turned upon them, and drawing his knife, the only weaponhe had, furiously rushed among them, in order to revenge her death, even with the inevitable sacrifice of his own life, but he was almostimmediately dispatched, without having accomplished his heroicpurpose. 

When their affections have become deeply engaged, they will frequentlyaffect insanity with a view to melt the heart of the obdurate beloved. 

"A Chippewa, named Ogemans, who resided near the Dog Lake, was marriedto a woman called Demoya, but had conceived an affection for hersister, named Okoj, who lived in the same cabin; the latter havingrefused his offer to take her as a second wife, he affected insanity. His ravings were terrible; nothing could appease him but her presence;the moment he touched her hand or came near her, he was as gentle asthey could wish. At one time, in the middle of a winter's night, hesprang from his couch, broke through the frail bark which formed hiscabin, and escaped into the woods, howling and screaming in thewildest manner; his wife and her sister followed him, endeavouring tocalm him and bring him home, but he seemed to have set all theirpowers at defiance. At last Okoj came near him, and the moment shelaid her hand upon him, he became quite tractable. In this manner hecontinued for a long while, convincing all the Indians who saw himthat he was possessed by a spirit, which nothing but the approach ofOkoj could reduce. So deep was their conviction and her's, that she atlast consented to become his wife, and never after was he troubled bya return of madness. "

Another instance of a somewhat similar nature happened in the presenceof the same interpreter, (Bruce). "A young Canadian had secured theaffections of an Indian girl called Nisette, whose mother was a Squawthat had been converted by the missionaries; being very pious, themother insisted that the young folks should be united by a clergyman. None being in the country at the time, they travelled to an Algonquinvillage, situated on the Lake of the Two Mountains, where there was amissionary. Meanwhile the Canadian's love cooled away, and by the timethey reached the village he cared no more for the poor girl. Disappointed in her affections, she was observed to sicken; she becamesubject to fits, her intellect appeared disordered, and she wasfinally considered as quite insane. The only lucid intervals which shehad were in the presence of her inconstant lover. Whenever he camenear her, her reason would return, and she would appear the same asbefore. Flattered by what he deemed so strong an evidence of hisinfluence over her, the Canadian felt a return of kindness towardsher, and was finally induced to renew his attentions, which being wellreceived, they were soon united by the clergyman. Her reason appearedto be restored, and her improving health showed that her happiness wascomplete. Although she never was charged with having resorted to astratagem, our guide, who had been with her a long while, and whorepresented her as a modest, virtuous, and interesting girl, hadalways considered her insanity as assumed, with a view to work uponthe feelings of her inconstant friend. "

Their other affections, especially the maternal, are equally exquisitewith those of civilised nations. I will relate one instance ofmaternal fondness, from _James's Account of an Expedition to the RockyMountains_, vol. I. P 223:--

"In the year 1814, a trader married a beautiful squaw of one of themost distinguished families in the Omawhaw nation. This match, on thepart of the husband, was induced by the following circumstances. Beingan active, intelligent, and enterprising man, he had introduced theAmerican trade to the Missouri Indians, and had gained great influenceamongst them by his bravery and ingenuous deportment. But he at lengthperceived that his influence was gradually declining, in consequenceof the presence and wiles of many rival traders, to whom hisenterprise had opened the way, and that his customers were graduallyforsaking him. 

"Thus circumstanced, in order to regain the ground he had lost, hedetermined to seek a matrimonial alliance with one of the mostpowerful families of the Omawhaws. In pursuance of this resolution, heselected a squaw whose family and friends were such as he desired. Headdressed himself to her parents agreeably to the Indian custom, andinformed them that he loved their daughter, that he was sorry to seeher in the state of poverty common to her nation, and although hepossessed a wife among the white people, yet he wished to have onealso of the Omawhaw nation. If they would transfer their daughter tohim in marriage, he would obligate himself to treat her kindly; and, as he had commenced a permanent trading establishment in theircountry, he would dwell during a portion of the year with her, and theremainder with the white people, as the nature of his occupationrequired. His establishment should be her home, and that of her peopleduring his life, as he never intended to abandon the trade. In return, he expressed his expectation, that, for this act, the nation wouldgive him the refusal of their peltries, in order that he might beenabled to comply with his engagement to them. He further promised, that if the match proved fruitful, the children should be made knownto the white people, and would probably be qualified to continue thetrade after his death. 

"The parents replied with thanks for his liberal offers, and for hisdisposition to have pity on them; they would not object to theconnection, and hoped that their daughter would accept of him as herhusband. 

"The parents then retired, and opened the subject to the daughter. They assured her that her proposed husband was a great man, greaterthan any of the Omawhaws; that he would do much for her and for them, and concluded by requesting her to acquiesce in the wishes of thewhite man. She replied, that all they said was, without doubt, true, and that, agreeably to his request, she was willing to become hiswife. 

"The agreement being thus concluded, the trader made presents, agreeably to the custom of the nation, and conducted his interestingprize to his house. 

"The succeeding spring the trader departed for the settlements, leaving her of course at his trading house. 

"The ensuing autumn she had the pleasure to see him return, having nowconceived for him the most tender attachment. Upon his visit thefollowing season, she presented him with a fine daughter, born duringhis absence, and whom she had nursed with the fondest attention. Withthe infant in her arms, she had daily seated herself on the bank ofthe river, and followed the downward course of the stream, with hereye, to gain the earliest notice of his approach. Thus time passed on. The second year the father greeted a son, and obtained his squaw'sreluctant consent to take their daughter with him on his return voyageto the country of the white people. But, no sooner had he commencedhis voyage, and although she had another charge upon which to lavishher caresses, than her maternal fondness overpowered her, and she rancrying and screaming along the river side in pursuit of the boat, tearing out her long flowing hair, and appearing to be almost bereftof reason. On her return home she gave away every thing she possessed, cut off her hair, went into deep mourning, and remained inconsolable. She would often say that she well knew that her daughter would bebetter treated than she could be at home, but she could not avoidregarding her own situation to be the same as if the Wahconda hadtaken away her offspring for ever. 

"One day, in company with six other squaws, she was engaged in heragricultural labours, her infant boy being secured to his cradle-likeboard, which she had carefully reclined against a tree at a shortdistance. They were discovered by a war-party of Sioux, who rushedtowards them, with the expectation of gratifying their vengeance bysecuring all their scalps. An exclamation from her companions directedher attention to the common enemy, and in her fright she fledprecipitately, but, suddenly recollecting her child, she swiftlyreturned full in the face of the Sioux, snatched her child from thetree, and turned to save its life, more precious than her own. She wasclosely pursued by one of the enemy, when she arrived at a fence whichseparated her from the field of the trading-house. A moment'shesitation here would have been fatal; and, exerting all her strength, she threw the child, with its board, as far as she could on theopposite side. 

"Four of the squaws were tomahawked, and the others escaped, of whichnumber the mother was one, having succeeded in bearing off her childuninjured. 

"The trader, on his arrival at the settlements, learned that his whiteor civilized wife had died during his absence, and after a shortinterval devoted to the usual formalities of mourning, he united hisdestinies with another and highly amiable lady. The second season hiswife accompanied him on his annual voyage up the Missouri, to histrading-house, the abode of his squaw. 

"Previously to his arrival, however, he dispatched a messenger to hisdependents at the trading-house, directing them to prevent his squawfrom appearing in the presence of his wife. She was accordingly sentoff to the village of her nation, a distance of sixty or seventymiles. But she could not long remain there, and soon returned with herlittle boy on her back, and, accompanied by some of her friends, sheencamped near her husband's residence. She sent her son to the trader, who treated him affectionately. On the succeeding day the trader sentfor his squaw, and, after making her some presents, he directed her toaccompany her friends, who were then on their way to theirhunting-grounds. 

"She departed without a murmur, as it is not unusual with the Omawhawsto send off one of their wives, on some occasions, while they remainwith the favourite one. 

"About two months afterwards the trader recalled her. Overjoyed withwhat she supposed to be her good fortune, she lost no time inpresenting herself before the husband whom she tenderly loved. Butgreat was her disappointment, when the husband demanded the surrenderof the child, and renounced for the future any association withherself, directing her to return to her people, and to provide for herfuture well-being in any way she might choose. 

"Overpowered by her feelings, on this demand and repudiation, she ranfrom the house, and finding a pirogue on the river shore, she paddledover to the opposite side and made her escape into the forest with herchild. The night was cold, and attended with a fall of snow and hail. Reflecting upon her disconsolate condition, she resolved to returnagain in the morning, and with the feelings of a wife and a mother toplead her cause before the arbiter of her fate, and endeavour tomitigate the cruel sentence. 

"Agreeably to this determination, she once more approached him uponwhom she believed she had claims paramount to those of any otherindividual. 'Here is our child, ' said she: 'I do not question yourfondness for him, but he is still more dear to me. You say that youwill keep him for yourself, and drive me far from you. But no, I willremain with him; I can find some hole or corner in which I may creep, in order to be near him, and sometimes to see him. If you will notgive me food, I will, nevertheless, remain until I starve before youreyes. '

"The trader then offered her a considerable present, desiring her atthe same time to go, and leave the child. But she said, 'Is my child adog, that I should sell him for merchandize? You cannot drive me away;you may beat me, it is true, and otherwise abuse me, but I will stillremain. When you married me, you promised to use me kindly as long asI should be faithful to you; that I have been so, no one can deny. Ours was not a marriage contracted for a season--it was to terminateonly with our lives. I was then a young girl, and might have beenunited to an Omawhaw chief; but I am now an old woman, having had twochildren, and what Omawhaw will regard me? Is not my right paramountto that of your other wife; she had heard of me before you possessedher. It is true her skin is whiter than mine, but her heart cannot bemore pure towards you, nor her fidelity more rigid. Do not take thechild from my breast, I cannot bear to hear it cry, and not be presentto relieve it[A]; permit me to retain it until the spring, when itwill be able to eat, and then, if it must be so, take it from mysight, that I may part with it but once. '

[Footnote A: A mode of expression common to the Indians who are in thehabit of communicating their ideas by allusions to the senses. ]

"Seeing her thus inflexible, the trader informed her that she mightremain there if she pleased, but that the child should be immediatelysent down to the settlements. 

"The affectionate mother had thus far sustained herself during theinterview with the firmness of conscious virtue, and successfullyresisted the impulse of her feelings; but nature now yielded, thetears coursed rapidly over her cheeks, and clasping her hands, andbowing her head, she burst into an agony of grief, exclaiming, 'Whydid the Wahconda hate me so much, as to induce me to put my childagain into your power?'

"The feelings of the unhappy mother were, however, soon relieved. Mr. Dougherty (an Indian trader), communicated the circumstance of thecase to Major O'Fallon, (the agent), who immediately and peremptorilyordered the restoration of the child to its mother, and informed thetrader that any future attempt to wrest it from her should be at hisperil. "

I will give an example of the generous self-devotion of an Omawhaw, toprocure the escape of a brother, and with it end the volume. 

"Two Omawhaw brothers had stolen a squaw from an individual of theirnation, and were on their journey to seek a refuge in the Puncawvillage. But they had the misfortune in a large prairie to meet with awar-party of Sioux, their implacable enemies. They immediatelyconcealed themselves in a deep ravine, which at the bottom was coveredwith dry reed grass. The Sioux surrounded this spot, and set fire toit on the windward side of the reeds, in order to drive them out. Whenthe conflagration had nearly reached the fugitives, one of thebrothers remarked, that the Wahconda had certainly not created him tobe smoked out like a racoon; the Indians smoke this animal out ofhollow trees, by kindling a fire at the root: he urged his brother toattempt to escape in one direction, whilst he would attract theattention of the enemy, by sallying out upon them alone, and byendeavouring to destroy as many of them as possible, in anticipatedrevenge for that death which he considered as inevitable. 'One or bothof us, ' said he, 'must certainly be sacrificed; save yourself if youcan; I will be the victim, and may fortunately receive a death-blow inthe conflict, and thus escape the disgrace of captivity. ' He thenrushed forth amongst the Sioux, shot one, and with his knife woundedseveral before he was dispatched. His brother, availing himself of thediverted attention of the enemy, effected his escape, but the squawwas burned to death. "

THE END. 

LONDON:F. SHOBERL, JUN. , LAZENBY COURT, LONG ACRE. 

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