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,->

MaMELONS and Ungava

^ Ccgcnb of tl)e Saguenos.

W. H. H. MURRAY.

BOSTON:
DE WOLFE, FISKE & CO,

365 Washington Street.

'Z!t^-'

■'-'■.'.'SCA

■■^v ens IS

•

l^OOglH

P(^

DK WOLFK, FISKE & CO.,

1S90.

To THAT American who knows and loves the Legendary
Lore of his native land, and appreciates what I would fain
do for It ,f I were able ; who, distinguished by the bri^rht-
ness of his wit, the gentleness of his nature, and his love
of pohte letters, is beloved by all who know him ; to

®wr0p ^tetoatt, Jr., Ji.CE., ©. Eftt., J.E.©.^.,
of Quebec, I inscribe this Tale of Mamelons.

Burlington, Vt., ,890. ^^^ AuTHOR.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

Argument

I. The Trail

II. The Fight at Mamelons .

III. The Mother's Message

IV. Love's Victory .
V. At Mamelons

PAGE
I

7
45

91
124

155

AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

T HAVE for some years felt that the con-
nection of the old races with the North
American Continent, the signs and proofs of
whose presence are to be found almost every-
where, and nowhere so frequently as on the
St. Lawrence, afforded material for entertain-
ing authorship. Prompted by this feeling, I
have, during these several years past, been
working at certain pieces of composition, of
which this bit of romance is a fair sample.

If it shall so far please the reading public
that its publisher shall not lose money by his
venture -for letters in our time have no

111

PREFACE.

\'\

patronage save from the hope of selfish
gain — I shall, later on, print others like to
it. But if it fail, as it quite likely will, to
bring him commercial profit, then they will
be forgotten as this one will, until I better
them, or they come to a better time.

W. H. H. MURRAY.
Burlington, Vt., Jan. 7, 1887.

INTRODUCTION.

A yjY publishers have reqn<^sted me to pre-
pare a brief statement concerning my
literary work, especially that portion of it
relatirig to the character known as John Nor-
ton the Trapper — and the stories cnHed the
** Adirondack Tales." They represent that
there is an unusual curiosity and interest on
the part of many touching this matter, and
that a brief statement from me, as the author
of them, will please many and interest all who
read my works.

I know that many thousands of people do
feel in this way, for my mails for several

t^n'.IMI«(>f>"U-f-'*.^

INTRO D UCriON.

i \

years have brought me ahiiost daily a most
agreeable correspondence concerning not only
the character of John Norton the Trapper,
but the general scope and characteristics
of my literary work; and because of this
personal knowledge I do the more cheer-
fully comply with my publishers' request, and
will, now and here, set down as briefly as I
may what seems likely to be of interest to
those who read this volume.

The first volume ever published, of my
writing, was by the house of Ticknor & Fields,
in 1868, I think, and had for its title ** Murray's
Adventures in the Wilderness." This was the
book which first brought the Adirondacks to
popular notice, and did so much to advertise
that now famous region to the sporting and
touring classes of the country. The notice-

INTRODUCrrOIV.

able thing as to this vokime is that it was
not prepared by me for pubHcation, and while
writing the several chapters I had no idea
that they, or anything I should ever write,
would be published. I was then in the cleri-
cal profession, and was stationed at Meriden,
Conn. I had at this time a habit of compos-
ing each day, when my duties permitted me
the leisure, some bits of writing wholly apart
from my profession and work. They were of
the nature of exercises in English composi-
tion, and had no other interest to me than
the mental refreshment it gave me to write
them, and the hope that the doing of them
would assist me to improve my style in ex-
pression. They were constructed slowly and
rewritten many times, until they were as sim-
ple and accurate as to the use of words as I

VUl

INTRODUCTION.

\ \

could make them. I enjoyed the work very
much, and the composition of those little bits
of description and humor delighted me prob-
ably more than they ever have the readers
of them. By an accident of circumstances
they were printed in the Meriden Recorder,
and, beyond pleasing a few hundreds of local
readers, made no reputation for themselves
whatever. At least, I never heard of them
or gave them any thought. It was owing to
James T. Fields that their merit, such as they
had, was discovered, and that they were given
in volume form to the world. Of the recep-
tion the little book met with at the hands of
the public, I need not speak. As to it I
know no one was more surprised than I was.
It made the Adirondacks famous, and gave
me a nom de plume which has almost over-

INTRODUCTION.

shadowed the name I was christened with.
What pleases me most as to it is the thought
that it helped to introduce healthier fashions
of recreation, and brought thousands into close
and happy connection with Nature.

Of several volumes of sermons that were
published while I was in the clerical profes-
sion I make no mention, for I do not regard
them as literary productions. They represent
only a temporary popular demand, and as
compositions only the low average possible
to an overworked man, compelled by hlo
duties to do too much to do anything well.

The volume known as the " Perfect Horse"
was, I believe, with the exception of Hiram
Woodruff's litde volume, the first attempt made
by an American author to teach the breeders
of the trotting horse in this country the true

INTRODUCTION.

principles and correct methods of equine prop-
agation. It had a large sale, and, I have rea-
son to think, helped the country to needed
knowledge. To me it only stood for years
of wide and close studentship of the ques-
tion, and a benevolent endeavor.

The prompting motive in the preparation
of " Daylight Land" was this : The little book
"Adventures in the Wilderness" was published
in 1868, I think, and under circumstances such-
as I have explained. I had no thought at
that time of becoming an author. The several
chapters of that little volume were written as

exercises in composition. I was, at the writ-

*
ing of them, only some twenty-six years old.

I knew little of life or nature, and absolutely

nothing of what literary balance and fitness

mean. My knowledge of woodcraft was then

INTRODUCTION.

slight, of the American Continent slighter yet.
Naturally the book, because of the fame it
won, became, as years passed, my knowledge
grew apace, and my power of expression
ripened, a regret to me. It did not in any
sense represent me as an author. This feel-
ing was shared by others who have regard for
my writings, especially along the lines of de-
scription and entertainment ; and I was urged
to compose a volume of the same general
character as my first little book, that should
be a fairer and happier expression of myself
as an author, in the lighter moods of com-
position. It may interest some to learn -
especially young authors and literary folk —
that " Daylight Land " had for its prompting
cause the feeling that it was not fit for me
to be permanently represented in descriptive

II p

;

INTEODUCTION.

writing and in composition of the lighter sort,
by that little book that has gone so far and
done so much of good in many ways, but
which, because of the reasons stated, has al-
ways been extremely unsatisfactory to me.

I will now come directly to the character
of John Norton the Trapper and the -Adiron-
dack Tales."

I was once at a luncheon at which Mr.
James T. Fields presided. Several clever
literary men of more or less prominence
were present. Mr. Emerson was there, and
in answer to the query, - What makes a story
a great story," said : "A story which will make
the average reader laugh and cry both is a
great story, and he who writes it is a true
author." The definition struck me, when I
heard it, as a very proper one ; and it has

•1

INTRO D UCTFON.

Xlll

influenced me in my choice of subjects and
methods of treatment ever since.

Another question discussed at that table
was this : - Why must the feminine element
be introduced so constantly?" or, as one of
the witty lunchers phrased it, ''Why must
every author forever introduce a woman into
his story?"

This was discussed at length, all assuming
that such necessity did exist.

I had not engaged in the spirited talk, being
well content to listen. This Mr. Fields noted,
and insisted on "Parson Murray"— as he
facetiously called me — giving his views. I
replied that I would sooner keep quiet, espe-
cially as I did not agree with the verdict of
the table. This attracted a 3urprised atten-
tion, and I was compelled to say "that I did

XIV

INTRODUCTION.

not see the need of introducing a woman into
every story, and that I believed a story meet-
ing Mr. Emerson's definition of a great story,
viz., one which would make the readers of it
laugh and cry both, could be written without
a woman appearing in it, and that in some
masculine natures was a tenderness as deep,
a sympathy as sweet, and a love as strong
as existed in woman." And I added, •* Mr.
Emerson has forgotten that in a book with
which, as he was a clergyman for years, he
is perfectly familiar, there is a picture given
of two men who * loved each other beyond
the love of women.' "

Not to dilate further, from that day Mr.
Fields never ceased to urge me to ** attempt
that story," and, being most friendly to me, —
and to what young person with any talent

■3/.;

INTRODUCTION.

was he not ever a friend? — he would say,
•• I tell you, Murray, try and see if you can
write that story, not a woman or the hint of
one, good or bad, in it ; for it may be you
might succeed, and if you should, you know
what Emerson said; and I would like to
be the publisher." Prompted by this kindly
thought for me, and moved by assisting cir-
cumstances, I wrote the " Story of the Man
Who Didn't Know Much." It was composed
amid the pressure of journalistic as well as
clerical labors, by being dictated to a type-
writer, and appeared in the weekly issues of
the Golden Rule, a journal of which I was
editor and owner. It gave grfeat satisfaction
to the readers of the paper, and increased
its circulation appreciably. Of its literary
merit, if it had any, the readers of the vol-

-.-^,.X ,._:.. * . ■

XVI

INTRODUCTION.

ume can judge. The pleasantest thought to
me, perhaps, concerning it, was the fact that
Mr. Fields came one day to my study, and in
his genial, earnest way exclaimed, " Murray,
you have done what you said could be done ;
you have written a story up to the level of
Emerson's definition, for I have read it from
beginning to end, and laughed and cried over
it both." It is doubtless owing to this story
and the success of it, more than to any other
cause, that my mind was turned toward liter-
ature as the field in which I could work with
the greatest pleasure to myself, and perhaps
with the largest resultant benefit to mankind.
The character of the Lad was sketched with
the desire to illustrate the beauty and moral
force of innocence and simplicity, as con-
trasted with great mental endowments. It

INTRODUCIION.

XVll

■was from listening to the playing of the great-
est master of the violin in modern times, Ole
Bull, that I conceived the description of the
Lad's violin and his manner of playing it
at the ball. The great violinist expressed to
me the delight the reading of the passage
gave him, and jokingly declared that he en-
joyed it all the more because it was composed
by a man who couldn't play a note himself!

Of John Norton — and this must stand as
answer to all the interrogations that have
been put to me concerning him — I have
this to say. I never saw any such man as
John Norton ; never saw one so good as he
is, in ' ly vision of him ; never saw one who
even suggested him. He is a creation, pure
and simple, of my imagination. But, though
I never saw such a man, he nevertheless

XVUl

INTRODUCTION.

Stands for an actual type. Big-bodied, big-
headed, big-hearted, wise, humorous, humane,
brave, he types to me the old-fashioned New
England man, who, having lived his life in
the woods, has had developed in him those
virtues and qualities of head and heart, of
mind and soul, in harmony with his life-long
surroundings. Through him, as my mouth-
piece, I tell whatever of knowledge I have
of woodcraft, whatever appreciation I have of
Nature, and whatever wisdom I may have
been taught by my communings with her si-
lence. This is all I know of John Norton
the Trapper. The " Story that the Keg told
me " was composed simply to introduce the
character of John Norton to the reader, to
present him, as it were, to the reader's eye, and
pare him to appreciate his characteristics.

....^

-A

INTRODUCTION.

XIX

The " Adirondack Talcs," as outlined in my
mind, consist of six volumes, three of which
are already written and await publication, the
other three I hope to complete within the
next five or six years. The Canadian Idyls
will consist also of six volumes, the " Doom
of Mamelons," " Ungava," and '• Mistassinni "
being the first three. In them I treat of the
myths and traditions of the aboriginal races
of America as located especially in the north-
ern section of the continent, and they repre-
sent my best effort. It is not likely that
much, if indeed any part, of what I may
write will be granted a permanent place in
the literature of my country, nor am I stirred
to effort by any ambition or dream that it
may. I shall be well satisfied if, by what I
write, some present entertainment be afforded

INTRODUCTION.

the reader: a love of nature inculcated; and
encouragement given to a more manly or
womanly life. As my expectation is modest,
I am the more likely, perhaps, to live long
enough to see some small part of it, at least,
realized.

W. H. H. MURRAY.

Burlington, Vt.

ARGUMENT.

T^HE development of the story turns upon
the working of an old Indian prophecy
or tradition, which had been in the Lenni-
Lenape tribe, to the effect, that when an
intermarriage between a princess of their
tribe and a white man should occur, it would
bring ruin to the tribe, and cause it to be-
come extinct at Mamelons. For it was at the
mouth of the Saguenay, as they held, that
the whites first landed on this western conti-
nent. This intermarriage, or " cross of red
with white," had occurred, and the time had
nearly come when the last of the race

ARGUMENT.

- \

should, in accordance with the old prophecy,
die at Mamelons.

The persons introduced into this tale are
John Norton, the Trapper, who is comrade
and bosom friend of the chief of the Lenni-
Lenape ; the chief himself, who is dying from
an old wound received in a fight at Mame-
lons, and has sent a runner to summon the
Trapper to his bedside, to receive his dying
message ; a very beautiful woman of that
most peculiar and ancient of all known peo-
ples, the Basques of Southern Spain, the
last of their queenly line, who has been mar-
ried in France by the chiefs brother, and
to whom a daughter has been born, Atla, the
beautiful heroine of the story. And, in addi-
tion to these, is an old chief of the famous
Mistassinni tribe, who had had his tongue cut

ARGUMENT. 3

out at the torture stake by the Esquimaux,
from whose fury he had been rescued by a
party of warriors, headed by the Trapper.

At Mamelons in a great fight, fought in
the darkness and terror of an earthquake
commotion, the chief of the Lenni-Lenape
had, unknowingly, slain his brother, who,
returning from France with his young Basque
wife, had been wrecked on the coast of
Labrador, and, out of gratitude to the Esqui-
maux, who had treated him kindly, he joined
their ranks as they marched up to Mamelons
to the great battle. Thus, fighting as foes,
unknown to each other, in the darkness that
enveloped the field, he was killed by his
brother, having seriously wounded him in
return.

The Basque princess, thus widowed by the

4 ARGUMENT,

untimely death of her young husband, gave
birth to Atla, who was thus born an orphan,
and under doom herself. Her mother, soon
after the birth of Atla, was rescued from
death by the Trapper, and loved him with
all the ardor of her fervent nature. His
affections she strove and hoped to win, and
would, perhaps, have succeeded, had not
death claimed her. Dying, she left her love
and hopes as an heritage to her daughter,
and charged her, with solemn tenderness, to
win the Trapper's affection, and, married to
him, become the mother of a mighty race,
in whose blood the beauty and strength of
the two oldest and handsomest races of the
earth should be happily mingled.

The chief, knowing of her wish, and the
instructions left to Ada by her departed

upm

ARGUMENT.

mother, summons the Trapper to his death-
bed, to tell him the origin of the doom, and
the possibility or surety of its being" avoided
by his loving and marrying Atla. For, by
the conditions of the old curse it was pro-
claimed when spoken, that the ** doom shall
not hold in f^-se of son born in the female
line from sire without a cross," viz.: — from a
pure-blooded white man. The Trapper in his
humility feels himself to be unworthy of so
splendid an alliance, and resists the natural
promptings of his heart.

But at last the beautiful Atla wins him to
a full confession ; and at her urgent request,
against the Trapper's wish, they start for
Mamelons to be married, where, before the
rite is concluded, she dies, so fulfilling the
old prediction of her father's tribe.

6 .iRGUMENT.

In the Basque princess, the mother of
Atla, the author has striven to portray an
utterly unconventional woman, natural, bar-
baric, original; splendid in her beauty, and
glorious in her passions, such as actually
lived in the world in the far past, when
women were — it must be confessed — totally
unlike the prevalent type of to-day. In her
child, Atla, the same type of natural woman-
hood is preserved, but slightly sobered in
tone and shade of expression. But as studies
of the beautiful and the unconventional in
womanhood, both are unique and delightful.

Note. — The notes which have been connected in
explanation of certain passages of the story, are so
peculiarly interesting and suggestive that they make the
reader wish that the author had extended them in
fuller exposition of that " lore of woods and waters
«in<'! of antique days " with which he is so familiar.

Publishers.

MAMELONS.^

A LEGEND OF THE SAGUENAY.

CHAPTER I.

THE TRAIL.

IT was a long and lonely trail, the southern
end of which John Norton struck in answer
to the summons which a tired runner brought
him from the north. The man had made brave
running, for whe.. he reached the Trapper's
cabin and had placed the birch-bark packet
in his hands, he staggered to a pile of skins

* Mamelons. The Indians' name for the mouth of the

Saguenay, and signifies the Place of the Great Mounds.

See note 12.

MA MELONS.

and dropped heavily on them, Hke a hound
which, from a three-days' chase, trails weakly

to the hunter's door, spent nig-h to death. So
came the runner, running from the north, and
so, spent with his mighty race, dropped as
one dead upon the pile of skins.

He bore the death-call of a friend, whose
friendship had been tested on many an am-
bushed trail and the sharp edge of dubious
batde. The call was writ on bark of birch,
thin as the thinnest silk the ancients wove
from gossamer in the old days when weaving
was an art and mystery, and not a sordid
trade to earn a pittance with, traced in deli-
cate letters by a hand the Trapper would have
died for. A good five hundred miles that
trail ran northward before it ended at the
couch of skins, in the great room of the

hound
weakly
h. So
th, and
)ed as

whose
n am-
ubious
birch,
wove
saving
sordid
i deli-
have
> that
.t the
f the

MAAfELONS. g

great house, in which the chief lay dying.
And when the Trapper struck it he struck
It as an eagle strikes homeward toward the
cradle crag of his younglings, when talon.,
are heavy and daylight scant. lie drew his
line by the star that never sets, and litde
turning did he make for rivers, rapids, or
tangled swamp ; for mountain slope or briery
windfall. He drew a trail no man had ever
trod — a blazeless' trail, unmarked by stroke

^ In order to mark the direction of his course in
trailing through the woods the trailer slashes with his
axe or knife the bark of the trees he passes, by which
signs he is able to retrace his course safely, or follow the
same trail easily some future time. A blazed trail is
one thu= plainly marked. A blazeless trail is one on
which the trailer has no marks or "blazes" to run by,
but draws his line by other and occult signs, which tell
him in what direction he is going and which are known
only by those initiated in the mysteries of woodcraft.

A f.l MELONS.

of axe or cut of knife, by broken twig or
sharpened rod, struck into mold or moss, and
by its anorle ' telling whence came the trailer,
whither went he, and how fast. From earli-
est dawn till night thickened the woods and
massed the trees into a solid blackness, he
hurried on, straight as a pigeon flies when
homing, studying no sign for guidance, leav-
ing none to tell that he had come and gone.
He was at middle prime of life, tough and
pliant as an ashen bougii grown on hill, sea-
soned in hall, sweated and strung by constant
exercise for highest action, and now each mus-

^ Certain tribes of Indians north of the St. Lawrence
left accurate record of their rate of progress, and how
far they had come, by the length and angle of the
slanted sticks they drove here and there into the
ground as they sped on. The Nasquapees were best
known as practicing this habit.

MAMELONS.

I r

cle and sinew of his superb and superbly con-
ditioned frame was taut with tension of a
strone desire — to reach the bedside of the
dying chief before he died. For the message
read : " Come to me quick, for I am alone
with the terror of death. The chief is dying.
At the pillar of white rock, on the lake, a
canoe, with oars and paddle, will be waiting."
The Trapper was clad in buckskin from cap
to moccasins. His tunic, belted tight and
fringeless, was opened widely at the throat for
freest breathing. A pack, small, but rounded
with strained fullness, was at his back. His
horn and pouch were knotted to his side.
In tightened belt was knife, and, trailing
muzzle down and held reversed, a double
rifle. Stripped was the man for speed, as
when balanced on the issue of the race hang

MAMELQNS.

life and death. As some ^reat ship, caught
by somc! sudden gale off Anticosti or Dead
Man's Reef, and bare of sail, stripped to her
spars, past battures hollow and hoarse-voiced
as death and ghastly white, and through the
damned eddies that would suck her down and
crush her with stones which grind forever
and never see the light, sharpening their
cuttincfs with their horrid Lyrists, runs scud-
ding ; so ran the strong mr.n northward,
urged by a fear stronger than that of wreck
on the ghost-peopled shore of deadly St.
Lawrence. A hound, huge of size, bred to
a hair, ambled steadily on at heel. And
though he crossed many a h(;t scent, and
more than once his hurrying master started
a buck warm from his nest, and nose was
.busy with knowledge of game afoot, he gave

I 'x

MAMELONS.

no whimper nor swerved aside, but, silent,
followed on in the swift way his master was
so hurriedly makiuLf, as if he, too, felt the
solemn need which lu-ged the trail north-
ward. Never before had runner faced a
lonorer or a harder trail, or under high com-
mand or deadly peril pushed it so fiercely
forward.

Siivktw days the trail ran thus, and still the
man, tireless of foot, hurried on, and the hound
followed silently at heel. What a body was
his ! How its powers responded to the soul's
summons ! For on this seventh day of hio-h-
est effort, taxing with heavy strain each muscle,
bone, and joint to the utmost, days lengthened
from earliest dawn to deepest gloaming, the
strong man's face was fresh, his eye was
bright, and he swung steadily onward, with

i ;

MAMELONS.

long, swinging, casy-motioncd gait, as if the
prolonged and terrible effort he was making
was but a morning's burst of speed for healthy
exercise.

The climate favored him. October, with all
its glorious colors, was on the woods, and the
warm body of the air was charged through
and through with cool atmospheric movements
from the north. It was an air to race for
one's life in. Soft to the lungs, but 'fdled
to its blue edge with oxygen and that mystic
element men call ozone ; the overflow of God's
vitality spilleci over the azure brim of heaven,
whose volatile flavor fills the nose of him who
breathes the air of mountains. Favored thus
by rare conditions, the best that nature gives
the trailer, the strong man raced onward
through the ripe woods like an old-time run-

MAMELOA'S.

ner running ior the laurel crown and the
applause of Greece.

It Wc,s nigh sunset of the seventh day, and
the Trapper halted beside a spring, which
bubbled coldly up from a cleft rock at the
base of a cliff. He cast aside his hunting
shirt, baring his body to the waist, and bathed
himself in the cool water. He knelt to its
mossy rim and sank his head slowly down
into the refreshing depths, and held it there,
that he might feel the delicious coolness run
thrilling through his heated body. He cast
his moccasins aside and bathed his feet, sore
and hot from monstrous effort, sinkino- them
knee deep in the cold flowage of the blessed
spring. Then, refreshed, he stood upon the
velvet bank, his mighty chest and back pink
as a lady's palm, his strong feet glowing, his

MA MELONS.

face afliish through its deep tan, while the
wind dried him, and the ofolden leaves of the
overhanging maples fell round him in showers.

Refreshed and strengthened, he reclothed
himself, relaced his moccasins and tightened
belt, but before he broke away he drew the
sheet of birch-bark from his breast and read
again the lines traced delicately thereon.

" Yes, I read aright," he muttered to him-
self; ''the writing on the birch is plain as
ivy on the oak, and it says : ' Come to me
quick, for I am alone with the terror of death.
The chief lies dying. At the pillar of white
rock, on the lake, a canoe, with oars and pad-
dle, will be waiting.' " And the Trapper thrust
the writing back to its place above his heart
and burst away down the decline that led to
the lake at a run.

MA MELONS. 17

'' IVe bent the trail like a fool," he mut-
tered, as he reached the bottom of the dip,
" or the lake lies hereaway," and even as
he spoke the waters of a lake, red with
the red flame of the setting sun, gleamed
like a field of fire through the maple-trees.
The Trapper dashed a hand into the air with
a gesture of delight, and burst away again at
a lope through the russet bushes and golden
leaves that lay like plucked plumage, ankle,
deep, upon the ground toward the lake,
burning redly through the trees not fifty
rods beyond. A moment brought him to the
shore, bordered thick with cedar orfowths,
and, breaking through the fragrant branches
with a leap, he landed on a beach of silver
sand, and lo ! to the left, not a dozen rods
away, washed by the red waves, stood the

■*;: : ;

MAMELOAS.

signal rock, fifty feet in height, and from
water hne to summit white as drifted snow.

" God be praised ! " exclaimed the Trapper,
and he lifted his cap reverently. " God be
praised that I reckoned the coiu'sc; aright and
ran the trail straight from end to end. For
the woods be wide and lon<^, and to have
missed this lake would have been a sorry hap
when one like her is alone with the dying.
But where is the canoe that she said should
be here, for sixty miles of water cannot be
jumped like a brook or forded like a rapid,
and the island lies nigh the western shore,
and who may reach it afoot ? " And he ran
his eyes along the sand for signs to tell if
boat or human foot had pressed it.

He searched the beach a mile around the
bay, but not a sign of human presence could

MAMELONS.

be found. Then nigh the signal rock he sat
upon the sand, unloosed his pack, and from
it took crust and meat, of which he ate, then
fed the hound, sharing the scant supper with
him equally. " It is the last morsel. Rover,"
said the Trapper to the' dog as he fed him.
" It is the last morsel in the pack, and you
and I will breakfast lighdy unless luck
comes." The dog surely understood the mas-
ter's saying, for he rolled his hungry eyes
toward the pack as if he bitterly sensed the
bitter prophecy ; then — canine philosopher
as he was — he curled himself amid some
dried leaves contentedly, as if by extra sleep
he would make good the lack of food.

" Thou art wiser than men ! " exclaimed
the Trapper, looking reflectively at his canine
companion, now snoring in his warm russet

MAMELONS,

bed. " Thou art wiser, my dog, dian men,
for they waste breath and time in bewaihng
their hard fortunes, but you make good the
loss that pinches thee by holding fast and
quickly to the nearest gain." And he gazed
upon the sleeping hound with reflecting and
admiring cyr

Then slowly beliind the western hills sank
the red sun. rh(^ fer/or faded from the
water and the lake darkened. The winds
died with the day. Gradually the farther
shore retired from sight, and the distinguish-
ing hills became blankly black. The upper
air held on to the retreating light awhile, but
finally surrendered the last trace, and night
held all the world.

Amid the gathering gloom upon the beach
the Trapper sat in counsel with his thoughts.

MA MELONS.

At length he rose, and with dry driftage
within reach kindled a fire. By the light of
it he cut some branches of nigh cedars, and
with them made a bed upon the sand, then
cast himself upon his fragrant couch. Twice
he rose and listened. Twice renewed the
fire with larger sticks. At last, tired nature
failed the will. The toil of the lone trail
fell heavily on him. Slumber captured his
senses and he slept the sleep of sheer ex-
haustion. But before he slept he muttered
to himself:

''She said a canoe, with oars and paddle,
should be here, and the canoe will come."

The hours passed on. The Dipper turned
its circle in the northern sky, and stars rose
and set. The warm shores felt the coolness
of the night, and from the water's echje a soft

MA MELONS.

mist flowed and floated in thin layers along
the cooling sands. Tlie logs of seasoned
wood glowed with a steady warmth in the
calm air. The fog turned yellow as it drifted
above the burning brands, so that a halo
crowned the ruddy heat. The night was at
its middle watch, when the hound rose to
his feet and questioned the lake with lifted
nose, but his mouth gave no signal. If one
was coming, it was the coming of a friend.
Ten minutes passed, then he whined softly,
and, walking to the water's edge, waited ex-
pectant ; not long, for in a moment a canoe,
moving silently, as if wind-blown, came float-
ing toward the beach, and lodged upon it
noiselessly, as bird on bough. And a girl,
paddle in hand, stepped to his side, and,
stooping, caressed his head, then moved to-

'•»

MA MELONS.

ward the fire and stood above the sleeping
man.

She gendy stirred the brands until they
flamed, and in the light thus made studied
the strong face, bronzed with the tan of the
woods, the face of one who never failed friend
nor fought foe in vain, and who had come so
far and swiftly in answer to her call. She was
of that old race who lived in the morning of
the world, when giants walked the earth' and
the sons of God married the dauehters of
men.^ And the old blood's love of strength
was in her. She noted the power and sym-
metry of his mighty frame, which lay relaxed

^ " There were giants in the earth in those days." —
Gen. vi. 4.

" " The sons of God saw the daughters of men that they
were fair , and they took them wives of all which they
chose." — Gen. vi. 2.

MA MELONS.

from tension in the graceful attitude of sleep ;
the massive chest, broad as two common
men's, which rose and fell to his deep breath-
ing ; the great, strongly corded neck, rooted
to the vast trunk as some huge oak grown

on a rounded hill. She noted, too, the large
and shapely head, the thick, black hair, closely
cropped, and the sleeper's face — where might
woman find another like it ? — lean of flesh,
large featured, plain, but stamped with the
seal of honesty, chiseled clean of surplus by
noble abstinence, and bearing on its front the
look of pride, of power and courage to face
foe or fate. Thus the ^\x\ sat and watched
him as he slept, stirring the brands softly that
she micrht not lose sicrht of a face which was
to her the face of a god — such god as the
l)r()udest woman of her race, in the old time

MA MELONS.

might, W'th art or goodness, have won and
wedded.

Dawn came at last. The bhie above turned
gray. The stars .'shortened their pointed fires
and faded. The east kindled and llamed.
Heat flowed westward like an essential oil
hidden in the pores and channels of the air ;
while light, brightly clean and clear, ran round
the horizons, revealing its own and the love-
liness of the world.

Then woke the birds. Morning found a
voice sweet as her face. A hermit thrush
sent her soft, pure call from the damp depths
of the dripping woods. A woodpecker sig-
nalled breakfast with his hammer so sturdily
that all the elfin echoes of the \^^^9 merrily
mimicked him. An eagle, huntino- throuo-h the
sky, at the height of a mile, dropped like a

■^

MAAf/':i.OAS.

plummet into the lake, and, struggling up-
ward from his perilous plunge, heavily
weighted, lined his slow flight straight toward
his distant crag. The girl rose to her feet,
and, leaning on her paddle, for a moment
gazed long and tenderly at the sleeper's face,
then softly breathed, "John Norton!"

The call, low as it was, broke through the
leaden ofates of sluniber with the suddenness
and effect of a great surprise. Quick as a
flash he came to his feet, and, for a moment,
stood dazed, bewildered, his bodily powers
breaking out of sleep quicker than his senses,
and he saw the [nv\ as visitant in vision. He
stepped to the water's edge and bathed his
face, and turning, freshened and fully awake,
saw with glad and apprehensive eyes, who
stood before him, and tenderly said:

^u^^gj»^2jcjjj^

MAMEI.ONS.

' Is the daughter of the old race well ? "
•' Well, well, 1 am, John Norton," answered
the girl, and h(!r voice was low and sofdy
musical, as water falling into water. " I am
well, friend of " my mother and my friend.
And the chief still lives and will live till you
come, for so he bade me tell you." And she
reached her small hand out to him. He took
It in his own, and held it as one holds the
hand of child, and answered :

*' I am glad. Thou comest like a bird in
the night, silently. Why did you not awake
me when you came ? "

*' Why should I wake thee, John Norton?"
returned the girl. "I am a day ahead of that
the chief set for your coming. For our run-
ner — the swiftest in the woods from Mistas-
sinni to Labrador — said: 'Twelve suns must

"■P

! I

MA MELONS.

rise and set before my words could reach
thee,' and the chief declared : ' No living man,
not even you, could fetch the trail short of
ten days.' He timed me to this rock him-
self, and told me when I would come nor
wait another hour, that I would wait by the
white rock two dnys before I saw your face.
But I would come, for a voice within me
said — a voice which runs vocal in our blood,
and has so run through all my race since
the beginning of the world — this voice with-
in kept saying : * Go, for thou shalt find
hiui there V And so I, hurrying, came. But
tell me how many days were you upon the
trail ? "

** I fetched the trail in seven days from
sun to sun," answered the Trapper, modestly.

" Seven days ! " exclaimed the girl, while

MAMELOAS.

the light of a great surprise and admiration
shone in her eyes. " Seven days ! Thou hast
the deer's foot and the cougar's strength, John
Norton. No wonder that the war chiefs love
you."

And then after a moment's pause :

*' But why didst thou push the trail so
fiercely?"

'' I read your summons and I came," replied
the Trapper, sententiously.

The girl started at the hearing of the
words, which told her so simply of her power
over the man in front of her. Her nostrils
dilated, and through the glorious swarth of
her cheek there came a flush of deeper red.
The gloom of her eyes moistened like glass
to the breath. Her ripe lips parted as to
the passing of a gasp, and the full form lifted

..^.

MA MELONS.

as if the spirit of passion within would fling
the beautiful frame it filled upon the strong
man's bosom. Thus a moment the sweet
whirlwind seized and shook her, then passed.
Her eyes drooped modestly, and with a sweet
humbleness, as one who has received from
heaven beyond her hope or merit, she simply
said :

" I have brought you food, John Norton.
Come and eat."

The food was of the woods. Bread coarse
and brown, but sweet with the full cereal
sweetness ; corn, parched in the fire, which
eaten, lingered long as a rich flavor in the
mouth ; venison, roasted for a hunter's hun-
ger, within whose crisp surface the life of
the deer still showed redly ; water from the
lake, drunk from a cup shaped from the inner

MAMELONS.

bark of the golden birch, whose hollow cur-
vature still burned with warm chrome colors.
So, on the cool lake shore, in the red light
of early morn, they broke their fast.

The Trapper ate as a strong man eats
after long toil and scant feeding, not grossly,
but with a heartiness good to see. The girl
ate litde, and that absendy, as if the atoms
in her mouth were foreign to her senses and
no taste followed eating.

"You do not eat," said the Trapper. "The
sun will darken on the lower hills before we
come to food again. Are you not hungry ? "

" Last night I was ahungered," answered
the girl, musingly. *' But now I hunger no
more," and her face was as the face of a
Madonna holding her child, full of a plenti-
ful and sweet content.

MA MELONS.

i 1

I ;

*' I do not understand you," returned the
Trapper, after a moment's silence. " Your
words be plain, but their sense is hidden.
Why are you not hungry?"

" You read me once out of your sacred
books, John Norton, that man does not live
by bread alone, but by every word that pro-
ceedeth out of the mouth," responded the
girl. *' I knew not then the meaning of the
words, for I was a girl, and had no under-
standing, and the words were old, older than
your books, and therefore deeply wise, and
I, being yjung, did not know. But I know
now." And here the girl paused a moment,
hesitated as a young bird to leave the sure
bough for the first time, then, rallying cour-
age for the deed, gazed with her large eyes
lovingly into his, and timidly explained : —

MAMELONS.

Z2>

•' I am not hungry John Norton, for God
has fed me ! "

To the tanned cheek of the Trapper there
rushed a glow Hke the flush to a face of a
girl. The light of a happy astonishment
leaped from his eyes, and his breath came
strongly. Then light and color faded, and
as one vexed and heartily ashamed of his
vanity, while the lines of his face tightened,
he made harsh answer :

" Talk no more in riddles, lest I be a fool
and read the riddle awry. Nor jest again on
matters grave as life, lest I, who am but
mortal man and slow withal, forget wisdom
and take thy girlish playfulness for earnest
talk. Nay, nay," he added earnestly, as she
rose to her feet with an exclamation of pas-
sionate pain, '* Say not another word, you

W- Si- ^ •%

ArAMELONS.

hi !

have done no ill. You be young and fanci-
ful, and I — I be a fool ! Come, let us go.
The pull is long, and we shall need the full
day's light to reach the island ere night
falls." And, placing his rifle in the canoe,
he signaled to the hound and seated him-
self at the oars. The girl obeyed his word,
stepped to her place and pushed the light
boat from the sands on which so much had
been received and so much missed. Per-
haps her v/oman's heart foretold that love
like hers would get, even as it gave, all at
last.

• • • • •

The house was large and lofty, builded of
logs squared smoothly and mortared neatly
between the edges. In the thick walls were
deep embrasures, that light through the great

■««.>t\«.*M

MAMELONS.

windows might l^e more al)unclant. The
builders loved die sun and made wide path-
ways for its entrance everywhere. The case-
ments, fashioned to receive storm shutters,
were proof against winter's wind and lead
alike. In the steep roof were dormer win-
dows, glassed with panes, tightly soldered to
the sash. At either end of the great house
a huge chimney rose, whose solid masonry of
stone stood boldly out from the hewn logs,
framed closely against its mortared sides. A
wide veranda ran the entire length of the
southern side. A balustrade of cedar logs,
each hewn until it showed its red and fra-
grant heart, ran completely round it. Above
posts of the same sweetly odored wood —
whose fragrance, with its substance, lasts for-
ever — was lattice-work of poles stripped of

MAMELOAS.

; I

their birchen bark, and snowy white, on
which a huge vine ran its brown tracery,
enriched with bunches, heavily pendent, of
bhie-black grapes — that pungent growth of
northern woods, whose odors make the wind-
ing rivers sweet as heaven. In front, a nat-
ural lawn sloped to the yellow sands, on
which the waves fell with soft sound.

Eastward, a widely acred field showed care-
ful husbandry. Garnet and yellow colored
pods hung gracefully from the brown poles.
The ripened corn showed golden through
the parted husks, and beds of red and yel-
low beets patched the dark soil with their
high colors. The solar flower turned its
broad disk toward the wheeling sun, while
dahlias, marigold, and hardy annuals, with
their briglit colors, warmed like a floral camp-

II.

fc«,fc,^^i»,.,»,rt^.*«,,i^4t'\. ^fi . ^ ^m*

■ -■^^.11 *.<l*M*.

MAAfELONS.

fire the stretch of gray stubble and pale bar-
ren beyond. It was a lovely and a lonely
spot, graced by a lordly home, such as the
wealthy worthies builded here and there in
the great wilderness for comfort and for
safety In the old savage days when feudal
lords ' made good their claim to forest seign-
iories with sword and musket, and every
house was home and castle.

The canoe ran lightly shoreward. The
beach received Its pressure as a mother's
bosom receives the child runnlne from afar
to its reception — yieldingly ; and on the

* If the reader will recall that old Canada, viz., the
Province of Quebec, was wholly French in origin, and
that its organization rested on the feudal basis, the
whole territory occupied being divided not into towns
and counties, but into seigniories.

iSI

MAMKLONS.

I 11

welcoming sand the light bark rested. The
Trapper stepped ashore and reached his
hand back to the girl. Her velvet palm
touched his, rough and strong, as thistle-
down, wind blown, the oak tree's bark, then
nestled and stayed. Thus the two stood
hand in hand, gazing up the sloping lawn
at the great house, the broad, bright field
and the circling forest, glowing with autum-
nal colors, which made the glorious back-
ground. The green lawn, the great gray
house, and the vast woods belting it around,
brightly beautiful, made such a landscape pic-
ture as Titian would have reveled in. It
stood, this mansion of the woods, this wil-
derness castle, in glorious loneliness, a part
and centre of a splendid solitude, beyond
the coming and going of men, beyond their

MA MELONS.

wars and peace, the creation and embodi-
ment of a mystery deep as the woods around
it ; a strange, astounding spectacle to one
who did not know the history of the forest.

" It is a noble place," exclaimed the Trap-
per, as he gazed up the wide lawn at the
great house, and swept with admiring glance
the glorious circle of the woods which curved
their belt of splendor round it ; ** it is a
noble place, and if mortal man might find
content on earth, he might find it here."

"Could you, John Norton, living here, be
content?" inquired the girl, and she lifted the
splendor of her eyes to his strong, honest
face.

" Content," returned the Trapper, inno-
cently, ''why, what more could mortal crave
than is here to his hand ? A field to give

«;('

MAMELOXS.

him bread, a noble house to live in, the
waters full of fish, the woods of jranie, the
suorar of the maple for his sweetening, honey
for his feasts, and not a trap within two hun-
dred miles. What more could mortal man,
of good judgment, crave?"

"Is there nothing else, John Norton?"
asked the o-irl.

"Aye, aye," returned the Trapper, "one
thing. I did forget the dog. A hunter
should have his hound."

A shade of pain, perhaps vexation, came
to her face as she heard the Trapper's
answer. She withdrew her hand from his
and said: -Food, fur, and a house are not
enough, John Norton. A dog is good for
camp and trail. Solitude is sweet and ^ ^
absence of wicked men a boon. But ese

Af A MELONS.

do not make home nor heav(Mi, both of
which we crave and both of which are pos-
sible on earth, for the conditions are possi-
ble. The chief has found this spot a dreary
place since mother died."

•* Your mother was an angel," answered
the Trapper, *' and your words are those of
wisdom. I have thought at times of the
things you hint at, and, as a boy, I had vain
dreams, for nature is nature. But I have my
ideas of woman and I love perfect things.
And I — I am but a hunter, an unlearned
man, without education, or house, or land,
or gold, and I am not fit for any woman
that is fit for me ! "

The change that came to the girl's face
at the Trapper's words — for he had spoken
gravely, and through the honesty of his

1 ' ■

'; i I

■, f

::'|H

lill

'i'i

's; u

'!^

AS Si

;i i

i 1

[ •

MAMELONS.

Speech she looked and saw the greatness
and humility of his nature — was one to be
to him who saw it a memory forever. The
shadow left it and its dusky splendor was
lighted with the glow of a blessed assur-
ance. This man would love her ! This man
with the eagle's eye, the deer's foot, the
cougar's strength, the honest heart, would
love her ! This man her mother reverenced,
her uncle loved, who twice had saved her
life at the risk of his, whose skill and cour-
age were the talk of a thousand camps,
whose simple word In pledge held faster
than other's oaths — this man into whose
very bosom her soul had locked as into a
clean place — this man would love her! If
heaven be what good men say, and all its
bliss had been pledged to her when she lay

•1

MA MELONS.

dying, her body would not have dirilled

with a warmer glow than rushed its sweet

heat through her veins at that instant of

blessed conviction. Wait ! She could wait

for years, but she would win him — win him

to herself; win him from his blindness, which

did him honor, to that dazzling light in

whose glory man stands but once ; but,

standing so, sees, with a glad bewilderment,

that the woman he dares not love, because

she is so infinitely better than he, loves

him! Yes, she would win him — win him

with such sweet art, such patient approaches,

such seductiveness of innocent passion, slowly

and deliciously disclosed, that he should never

know of his temerity until, thus drawn to

her, she held him in her arms irrevocably,

in bonds that only cold and hateful death

; 1

^f A MELONS.

could part. Through all her leaping blood
this blessed hope, this sure, sweet knowl-
edge flowed like spiced wine. This man,
this man she worshipped, he would love
her! It was enough. Her cup ran full to

the brim and overflowed. She simply took

the Trapper's hand again and said:

"We will go to the chamber of the chief.

His eyes will brighten when he sees thy

face."

CHAPTER II.

THE FIGHT AT MAMELONS.'

T was a dreadful fight, John Norton. We
went into it a thousand warriors on a
side, and in either army were twenty chiefs
of fame. We fought the fight at Mamelons,
where, at sunset, we met the Esquimaux,^
coming up as we were going down. The
Montaignais headed the war. The Moun-

^ This old bat<^le-ground is located on the high ter-
races which define the several sand mounds now stand-
ing back of Tadousac.

^ The Esquimaux were numerous and very warlike,
and at one time had pushed their conquests clean up to
the Saguenay,

f h'

< }
I

i ■ (

1 ii'

■h

MAMELONS.

taineers,' whose fathers' wigwams stood at
Mamclons, had fought the Esquimaux a thou-
sand years, and both had wrongs to right.
My father died that summer, and I, fresh
from the fields of France, headed my tribe.
You know how small it was, the last rem-
nant of the old Lenape root, but every man
a warrior. I knew not the right or wrong
of it, nor did I care. I only knew our tribe
was pledged to the Nasquapees^ of frozen

^ The Montaignais Indians held the country, from
Quebec down to the Esquimaux, near Seven Ishmds,
and called themselves " Mountaineers."

^ The Nasquapees are one of the most remarkable
families of Indians on the continent, and of whom but
little is known. Their country extends from Lake Mis-
tassinni eastward to Labrador, and from Ungava Bay to
the coast mouniains of the St. Lawrtnce. They are
small in size, fine featured, with mild, dark eyes, and

MAMELOA'S.

Ungava, and they were allies of the Moun-
taineers, and hence the fight held us to its
edge. That night we slept under truce, but
when the sun came up went at it. I see
that morning now. The sun from out the
eastern sea rose red as blood. The Nasqua-
pees, who lived as atheists without a Medi-
cine man, cared not for this, but the prophet
of the Mountaineers painted his face and body

extremely small hands and feet. The name Nasquapees
— Nasqupics — means " a people who stand straight."
They have no Medicine man or Prophet, and hence are
called by other tribes atheists. Their sense of smell
is so acute that it rivals the dog's. "Spirit rappings,"
and other strange manifestations peculiar to us moderns,
have been practised immemorialiy among them, and car-
ried to such a shade of success that one of our Boston
stances would be a laughable and bungling affair to
them. Their language is like the Western Crees, and
their traditions point to a remote eastern origin.

I i[l

i'i

ti.

I ii'l

MAMELONS.

black as night, tore his blanket into shreds,
and lay in the sand as one dead. The Nas-
qiiapees laughed, but we of the mountains
knew by that dread sign that our faces looked
toward our last battle. We made it a brave
doom. We fought till noon upon the shift-
ing sands, nor gained an inch, nor did our
foes, when suddenly the sun was clouded and
a great wind arose that drove the sand so
thickly that it hid the battle. The firing and
the shouting ceased along the terrace where
we fought, and a great, dread silence fell on
the mighty mounds, save when the fierce
gusts smote them. Thus, living and dead,
friend and foe, we lay together, our faces
plunged into the coarse gravel, our hands
clutching the rounded stones, that we might
breathe and stay until the wind might pass.

MA MELONS.

And such a wind was never blown on man
before, for it was hot and came straight down
from heaven, so that our backs winced as we
lay flattened. Thus, mixed and mingled, we
clung to the hot stones, while some crept in
beneath the dead for shelter. So both wars
clung to the ground for an hour's space.
Then, suddenly the sun rushed out, and
shaking sand from eyes and hair, and spit-
ting it from our mouths, at it we went again.
It was an awful fight, John Norton, and more
than once, in the mad midst of it, smoke-
Minded and sand-choked, I thought of you
and that I heard your rifle crack."

" I would to God I had been there ! " ex-
claimed the Trapper, and he dashed his huge
hand into the air, as if cheering a line of battle
on, while his eyes blazed and his face whitened.

■(TF

ill

:.(i

If;

MAMELUA'S.

" I would to God you had been ! " returned
the chief. " For whether one Hved through
it, or died in it, we made it great by great
fighting. For we fought it to the end in
spite of interruptions."

** Interruptions ! " exclaimed the Trapper.
"I do not understand ye, chief. What but
death could interrupt a fight like that ? "

*' Listen, Trapper, listen," rejoined the chief,
excitedly. " Listen, that you may understand
what stopped the fight, for never since man was
born was fought such fight as we there fought,
high up above the sea, that day at Mamelons.
I told you it vvas an old feud between the
Mountaineers and Esquimaux, a feud that had
held its heat hot for a thousand years, and
we, a thousand on each side, one for each
year, fought on the sand, while above, below,

MAMELONS,

and around the dead of a thousand years,
slain in the feud, fought too."

'•Nay, nay," exclaimed the Trapper. "Chief,
it cannot be. The dead fight not, but live in
peace forever, praise be to God," and he bowed
his head reverently.

"That is your faith, not mine, John Nor-
ton, for I hold to an older faith — that men
by a knife's thrust are not changed, but go,
with all their passions with them, to the
Spirit- Land, and there build upward on the
old foundation. And so, I say again, that
the dead of a thousand years fought in the
air above and around us on that day at
Mamelons. For in the pauses of the wind,
we who fought on either side heard shrieks,
and shouts, and tramplings as of ten thou-
sand feet, and over us were roarings, and

MAMELONS.

I i

li.

'•' \

bcllovvings, and hollow noises, dreadful to
hear, and through all the battle went the
word that * the old dead were fighting, tooV
and that made us wild. Both sides went
mad. The dying cheered the living, and the
living cheered the dead. So went the battle
— the fathers and the sons, the dead and
living, hard at it. The waters of the Sague-
nay, a thousand feet below, were beaten into
foam by the rush of fighting feet, and the
roaring of a great battle filled its mouth. Its
dark tide whitened with strange death froth
from shore to shore, while ever and anon its
surface shivered and shook. And under us
on the high crest, cloud-wrapped, the earth
trembled as we fought, so that more than
once as we stood clinched, we two, the foe
and I, still gripped for death, would pause

'.a

MA MELONS.

until the ground grew steady, for its trem-
blings made us dizzy, then clinch the fiercer,
mad with a great madness at being stopped
in such death-grapple. Under us all the long
afternoon the great mounds rose and sank
like waves that have no base to stand upon.
The clouds snowed ashes. Mud fell in show-
ers. The air we breathed stank with brim-
stone and burnt bones. And still it thick-
ened, and still both sides, now but a scattered
few, fought on, until at last, with a crash, as if
the world had split apart, darkness, deep as
death, fell suddenly, so that eyes were vain, and
we who were not dead, unable to find foe, stood
still. And thus the battle ended, even drawn,
because God stopped the fight at Mamelons.'

^ The Saguenay is undoubtedly of earthquake origin.
The north shore of the St. Lawrence from Cape Tour-

iSl

■ i

MAMELONS.

" At last the morninir dawned at Mamelons,
and never since those ancient beaches ' saw

mente to Point du Monts, is one of the earthquake cen-
tres of the world. In 1663 ^frightful series of convulsions
occurred, lasting for more than four months ; and, it is
said, that not a year passes that motions are not felt hi
the earth. The old maelstrom at Bai St. Paul was caused
by subterranean force, and by subsequent shocks deprived
of its terrible power. The mouth of the Saguenay was
one of the great rendezvous of the Indian races long
before Jacques Cartier came, and the great mounds above
Tadousac have been the scene of many great Indian bat-
tles ; but I would not make affidavit that an earthquake
ever did actually take place while one was being fought,
although there may have been, and certainly, from an
artistic point of view, there should have been, such a
poetic conjunction.

* These mamelons, or great sand mounds, are be-
lieved to be the old geologic beaches of earliest times.
They rise in tiers, or great terraces, one above the other,
to a great height, the uppermost one being a thousand
feet or more above the Saguenay, and represent, as they

\ :

it! '

MA MELONS.

the world's first morning-, had the round sim
looked down on such a scene. The great
terraces on which we fought were ankle deep
with ashes mixed with mud, and cinders black
and hard, like burnt iron, and all the sand
was soaked with blood. The dead were
heaped. They lay like drifted wreckage on
a beach, where the eddying surges of the
battle tossed them in piles and tangled heaps
like jammed timber. For in the darkness,
we had fought by sound, and not by sight,
and where the battle roared loudest, thither
had we rushed, using axe and knife and the
short seal spears of the damned Esquimaux.
And all the later battle was fought breast to

run clown from terrace to terrace, the shrinking of the
" face of the deep " in the creative period, by the shrink-
ing A'hich the solid earth rose in sight.

\\\

MAMEI.ONS.

breast, for ere half were dead, powder and lead
gave out, and the fray was hand to hand, until,
by the sickening darkness, God stopped it.

" I searched the dreadful field from end
to end to find my own, and found them.
With blackened hands, clouted with blood,
I drew them together. Forty in all, I
stretched them, side by side, and the savage
pride of the old blood in me burst from my
mouth in a shrill yell, when I saw that twenty
swarthy bosoms showed the knife's thrust
deep and wide. They died like warriors.
Trapper, true to the old Lenape blood,
whose Tortoise ' steadfastness upheld the

^ The Lenni-Lenape had, at the coming of the
whites, their territory on the Delaware, but their tradi-
tions point to long journeyings from the east over wide
waters and cold countries. Their language, strange to

MA MELONS.

world. I made a mound above their bodies,
and heaped it high with rounded stones
which crowned the up^^^rmost beach, and
made wail above friends and kindred fallen
in strange feud. And there they sleep, on
that high verge, where the unwritten knowl-
edge of my fathers, told from age to age,
declare the waters of the earliest morning
first found shore." [See note i, page 54.]

say, has in it words identical with the old Basque
tongue, and establishes some community of origin or
history in the remote ages. The Lenni-Lenape had as
their Totem, or sacred sign of origin and blood, a
Tortoise with a globe on its back, and boasted that
they were the oldest of all races of men, tracino- their
descent through the ages to that day when the world
was upheld by a Tortoise, or turtle, resting in the
midst of the waters. As a tribe they were very brave,
proud, and honorable.

%-r

( 5

li;l

^ !

MA MELONS.

" Never did I hear a tale like this," ex-
claimed the Trapper. " Strange stories of
this fight I heard in the far north, chanted
in darkness at midnight, with wild wailing
of the tribes ; but I held it as the trick of
sorcerers to frighten with. Go on and tell

me all. Chief, what next befell thee ? "

" John N'jrion, thou hast come half a
thousand miles to hear a tale of death told
by a dying man. Listen, and remember all
I say, for at the close it touches close on
thee. A fate whose meshes woven when our
blood Wt.s crossed has tangled all that bore our
name in ruin from the start, and with my going
only one remains to suffer further"

Here the chief paused while one might
count a score, then, looking steadily at the
Trapi)er, said :

MA MELONS.

" Last month, when the raven was on the
moon,' my warning came. The old wound
opened without cause, and, lying on this bed,
I saw the hour of my death, and beyond,
thee, I saw, and beside thee the last and
sweetest of our line, and the same doom
was over her as has been to us all since the
fatal cross — the doom which sends couraee
and beauty to a quick, sad death."

'• I do not understand," replied the Trap-
per. "Tell me what befell thee further,
step by step, and how I, a man without a
cross,' can be connected with the old tradi-
tions of thy tribe and house ? "

^ When the raven was on the moon. An Indian
description of an eclipse.

^ A man without a cross, viz., a pure-blooded man.
A white man without any Indian or foreign blood in
his veins.

'.T

MAMELONS.

1 1

! ^1 \

" Listen. In coming from the field, I saw,
half-covered by the ashes, a body clothed in
a foreign garb. It lay face downward where
the dead were thickest, one arm outstretched,
the hand of which, gloved to the wrist, still
gripped a sv/ord, red to its jeweled hilt.
The head was foul with ash and sand, but I
noted that the hair was black and long, and
worn like a warrior's of our ancient race.
Then I remembered a habit of boyish days
and pride. Trembling, I stooped, lifted the
body upward and turned the dead face
toward me. And there, there on that field
of Mamelons, where It was said of old,
before one of my blood had ever seen
the salted shore, the last of our race
should die, all foul with ash and sand
and blood, brows knit with battle rage, teeth

MAMELOA'S.

• s

bared and tightly set, / saw my brother'i
face!''

" God in heaven ! " exclaimed the Trapper.
'* How came he there, and who killed him?"

"John Norton, you know our cross, and
that the best blood of the old world and the
new, older than the old, is in our veins. My
grandsire was the son of one vv^ho stood next
to the throne of France, and all our line have
studied in her polished schools since red and
white blood mingled in our veins. There did
we two, my brother and I, remain until my
father called us home. I left him high in the
court s favor. Thence, suddenly, without send
ing word, with a young wife and officer of
trust, he voyaged, hoping to give me gbd
surprise. A tempest drove his ship on Lab-
rador ; but he saved wife and gokl. The

■■ 4~ ^:^d»«afc*j

MAMELONS,

W 1

I I (I

Esquimaux proved friendly, and gave him
help, and, reckless of consequence, as have
been all our line since the French taint came
to us, not knowing cause, he joined the wild
horde, and came with them to fatal Mamelons
and its dread fight.

" So chanced it. Trapper. I dropped the
body from my arms, for a great sickness
seized me and my head swam, and in the
bloody tangle of dead bodies I sat limp and
lifeless. Then in a frenzy, clutching madly
at a straw of hope, I tore the waistcoat,
corded with gold, from the stiff breast to find
proof that would not lie. And there, there
above his heart, with eyes bloodshot and bul-
ging, I saw the emblem of our tribe — the Tor-
toise, with the round world on his back ; and
through the sacred Totem of our ancient line-

MAMELONS.

age, which our father's hand had tattooed on
his chest and mine ; yea, through it and the
white skin above his heart, there gaped a
gash, swollen and red, which my own knife
had made. For in the darkness of the fight,
bearing up against an Esquimaux rush, ash-
blinded, I found a foe who swore in French
and had a sword. He and I fought grap
pling in the dark, when the earth hove be-
neath our feet and ashes rained upon us ;
and his sword ran me through even as I
thrust my long knife into him.

** And thus at Mamelons, where sits the
doom of our race awaiting us, in its dread
fight, both fighting without cause, I slew my
brother, and from his hand I got the wound
from whose old poison I now die.

*' Thus I stood among the dead at Mame-

^WTTZ

MAMELONS.

i ■ ill

II I

Ions, a chief without a tribe and my brother's
murderer. I moved some bodies and scraped
downward, that I might have clean sand to
fall upon ; then drew my knife to let life out,
and thus meet bravely the old doom foretold
for me and mine as awaiting us since man
was born on the shore of that first world.
But even as I bent to the knife's point, a
voice called me and I turned.

" It was an Esquimau ; the only chief left
from the fight ; my brother's host seeking my
brother. He knew me, for he and I had
clinched in the great fight, but the earth
opening parted us, and so both lived. Each
felt for each as warriors feel for a brave foe
when the red fight is ended and the field of
death is heavy. Thus, battle-tired, amid the
dead, we lifted hands, palm outward, and met

MA MELONS.

in peace. He knew the language of old
France, and I told him of my woe, of our
old race, of tribesmen dead, of brother slain
by my own hand, and of the doom that waited
for us over Mamelons. And then he spoke
and told me that which stayed my hand and
held me unto further life.

" Seven days I journeyed with him, and on
the eighth I came to where she sat, amid
his children, in his rude house at Labrador.
Never, since God created woman, was one
made so beautiful as she. She was of that
old Iberian race, whose birth is older than
annals, whose men conquered the world and
whose women wedded gods. She was a
Basque,' and her ancestor's ships had an-

^ As far back in time as annals or traditions extend,
a race of men called Iberians dwelt on the Spanish penin-

•1

■

MAMELONS.

chored under Mamelons a thousand years
before the Breton came. Fresh from the

sula. Winchell says that "these Iberians spread over
Spain, Gaul, and the British islands as early as 5000
B.C. When Egypt was only at her fourth dynasty this
race had conquered all the world west of the Mediter-

ranean. '

They originally settled Sardinia, Italy, and Sicily, and
spread northward as far as Norway and Sweden. Strabo
says, speaking of a branch of this race : *' They employ
the art of writing, and have written books containing
memorials of ancient times, and also poems and laws
set in verse, for which they claim an antiquity of 6000
years. These old Iberians to-day are represented by the
Basques. The Basques are fast dying out, and but a
small remnant is left. They undoubtedly represent the
first race of men. They are proud, merry, and pas-
sionate. The women are very beautiful, and noted for
their wit, vivacity, and subtle grace of person. They
love music, and dance much. Some of their dances are
symbolic and connected with their ancient mysteries.
Their language is unconnected with any European tongue

MA MELONS.

dreadful field, with heart of lead, my broth-
er's face staring whitely at me as I talked, I
told her all — the fight, the death of brother
and of tribe, and the doom that waited
for our blood above the shining sands at
Mamelons.

or dialect, but, strange to say, it is connected by close
resemblance, in many words, with the Maiya language
of Central America and that of the Algonquin-Lenape
and a few other of our Indian tribes. Duponceau says
of the Basque tongue :

" This language, preserved in a corner of Europe by a
few thousand Mountaineers, is the sole remaining frag-
ment of perhaps a hundred dialects, constructed on the
same plan, which probably existed and were universally
spoken at a remote period in that quarter of the world.
Like the bones of the mammoth, it remains a monument
of the destruction produced by a succession of ages, it
stands single and alone of its kind, surrounded by idioms
that have no affinity with it."

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MAMELONS.

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III

" She listened to the end. Then rose and
took my hand and kissed it, saying : ' Brother,
I kiss thy hand as head of our house. What's
done is done. The dead cannot come back.'
Then, covering up her face with her rich
laces, she went v/ithin the hanging skins, and
for seven days was hidden with her woe.

•* But when the seven days were passed
she came, and we held council. Next morn,
with ten canoes deep laden with gold and
precious stuffs, that portion of her dower
saved from the wreck, we started hitherward.
This island, after many days of voyaging,
we reached, and landed here, by chance or
fate I know not, for she spake the word that
stopped us on this shore, not I. For on this
island did my fathers live, and here the fate-
ful cross came to our blood, that cross with

MA MELONS. gg

France which was not fit; for the traditions
of our tribe — a mystery for a thousand years
— had said that any cross of red with white
should ripen doom at Mamelons ; for there
it was the white first landed on the shore
of this western world.'

* The antiquity of European visitation to the St.
Lawrence is unascertained, and, perhaps, unascertain-
able. But there is good reason to think that lonjr be-
fore Jacques Cartier, Cabot, or even the Norsemen,
ever saw the American continent, the old Basque people
carried on a regular commerce in fish and fur with the
St. Lawrence. It is not impossible but that Columbus
obtained sure knowledge of a western hemisphere from
the old race, who dwelt, and had dwelt, immemorially
among the mountains of Spain, as well as from the
Norse charts. Their language, legends, traditions, and
many signs compel one to the conclusion that the old
Iberian race, who once held all modern Europe and
the British isle in subjection, was of ocean origin, and
pusiied on the van of an old-time and world-wide navi-

'1-1

MAMELONS.

" She needed refuge, for within her life-
another Hfe was growing. Brooding, she
prayed that the new soul within her might
not be a boy. * A boy,' she said, * must meet
the doom foretold. A girl, perchance, might
not be held.' Her faith and mine were one,
save hers was older, she being of the old
trunk stock, of which the world-supporting
Tortoise were a branch ; and so my blood
was later, flowing from noonday fountains,
while hers ran warm and red, a pure, sole
stream, which burst from out the ponderous
front of dead eternity, when, with His living
rod, God smote it, in the red sunrise of the

gation beyond the record of modern annals. Both
Jacques Cartier and John Cabot found, with astonish-
ment, old Basque names everywhere, as they sailed
up the coast, the date of whose connection with the
geography of the shores the natives could not tell.

MAMELONS.

world. On this her soul was set, nor could
I change her thought with reason, which I
vainly tried, lest if the birth should prove a
boy, the shock should kill her. But she held
stoutly to it, saying:

" * The women of our race get what they
crave. My child shall be a woman, and
being so, win what she plays for.'

" And, lo ! she had her wish ; for when
the babe was born it was a girl.

" All since is known to you, for you, by
a strange fate, blown, like a cone of the
high pine from the midst of whirlwinds,
when forest fires are kindled and the gales
made by their heat blow hot a thousand
miles across the land, dropped on this island
like help from Heaven. Twice was I saved
from death by thee. Twice was she rescued

i)—i yM.-Jt.'i«mn

I i

II ii!

t't

MA MELONS.

at the peril of thy life ; mother and child,
by thy quick hand, snatched out of death.
And when the cursed fever came, and she
and I lay, like two burning brands, you
nursed us both, and from your arms at last,
her eyes upon you lovingly, her soul unwill-
ingly, under fate, went from us. And her
sweet form, instinct with the old grace and
passion of that vanished race which once
outrivaled Heaven's beauty and won wed-
lock with the gods, lay on your bosom as
some rare rose, touched by untimely frost,
while yet its royal bloom is opening to the
sun, lies, leaf loosened, a lovely ruin rudely
made on the harsh gravel walk."

Here the chief stopped with a gasp, struck
through and through with sharp pains. His
face whitened and he groaned. The spasm

MAMELONS.

passed, but left him weak. Rallying, with
effort, he went c.i :

'* I must be brief. That spasm was the
second. The third will end me. God!
How the old stab jumps to-night!

''Trapper, you know how wide our titles
reach. A ^ indred miles from east to west,
from north to south, the manor runs. It is
a princely stretch. A time will come when
cities will be on it, and its deeds of warranty
be worth a kingdom. Would that a boy
outside the deadly limits of the cross, but
dashed with the old blood in vein and skin,
were born to heir the place and live as mas-
ter on these lakes and hills, on which the
mighty chiefs who bore the Tortoise sign
upon their breasts when it upheld the world,
beyond the years of monal memory, lived

mmmmm

U I-

MAMELONS.

and hunted ! For when the doom in the
far past, before one of our blood had ever
seen the salted shore, was spoken, it was
said :

**'This doom, for sin against the blood,
shall not touch one born in the female line
from sire without a cross.'

** I tell you, Trapper, a thousand chiefs
of the old race would leave their graves and
fight again at Mamelons to see the old doom
broken, and a boy, with one clear trace of
ancient blood in vein and skin, ruling as
master here! And I, who die to-night, I,
and he who pave me death and whom I slew,
would rise to lead them !

" John Norton, you I have called ; you
who have saved my life and whose life I
have saved ; you, who have stood in battle

\i .!

MA MELONS.

with me when the red line wavered and
we two saved the fight; you who have the
wild deer's foot, the cougar's strength,
whose word once given stands, like a
chiefs, the test of fire; you, all white in
face, all red at heart, a Tortoise, and yet a
man without a cross, have I called half a
thousand miles to ask with dying breath this
question :

" May not that boy be born, the old race
kept alive, the long curse stayed, and ended
with my life forever be the doom of Mame-
lons? Speak, Trapper, friend, comrade in
war, in hunt and hall, speak to my failing
ear. that I may die exultant and tell the
thousand chiefs that throng to greet me in
the Spirit-land that the old doom is lifted
and a race with blood of theirs in vein and

•

ill

111

MA MELONS.

skin shall live and rule forever mid their
native hills ? "

From the first word the strange tale, half
chanted, had rolled onward like the great
river flooding upward from the gulf, between
narrowing banks, with swift and swifter mo-
tion, growing pent and tremulous as it flows,
until it challenges the base of Cape Tour-
ment with thunder. And not until the dying
chief, with headlong haste, had launched the
query forth — the solemn query, whose answer
would fix the bounds of fate forever — did the
Trapper dream whither the wild tale tended.
His face whitened like a dead man's, and he
stood dumb — dumb with doubt and fear and
shame. At last, with effort, as when one lifts
a mighty weight, he said, and the words were
heaved from out his chest, as great weights

MA MELONS.

from deepest depths: ** Chief, ye know not
what ye ask. My God ! I am not fit ! "

Across the swarth face of the dying man
there swept a flash of flame, and his glazed
eyes lighted with a mighty joy.

"Enough! enough! It is enough!" he
cried. "The women of her race will have
their way, and she will win thee. God ! If
I might live to see that brave boy born, the
spent fountain of the old race filled again
by that rich tide in her which flows red and
warm from the sunrise of the world! Nay,
nay. Thou shalt not speak again. I leave
it in the hands of fate. Before I pass the
seeing eye will come, and I shall see if sun-
light shines on Mamelons."

He touched a silver bell above his head,
and, after pause, the girl, in whom the beauty

!tfi >

MAMELONS,

of her mother and her race lived on, whose
form was Hthe, but rounded full, whose face
was dark as woods, but warmly toned with
the old Basque splendor, like wine when
light shines through it, type of the two old-
est and handsomest races of the world, stood
by his side.

Long gazed the chief upon her, a vision
too beautiful for earth, too warm for heaven.
The light of a great pride was in his eyes,
but shaded with mournful pity.

" Last of my race," he murmured. ** Last
of my blood, farewell ! Thou hast thy mother's
beauty, and not a trace of the damned cross
is on thee. Follow thou thy heart. The
women of thy race won so. My feet are
on the endless trail blazed by my fathers for
ten thousand years. I cannot tarry if I would.

MAMKLONS.

I leave thee under care of this just man. Be

thou his comfort, ar he will be thy shield.

There is a chest, thy mother's dying gift, thou

knowest where. Open and read, then shalt

thou know. Trapper, read thou the ritual of

the church above m\' bier. So shall it please

thee. Thou art the only Christian I ever

knew who kept his v^ord and did not cheat

the red man. Some trace of the old faiths,

therefore, there must be in these modern

creeds, albeit the holders of them cheat and

•
fight each other. But, daughter of my house,

last of my blood, born under shadow, and it

may be unto doom, make thou my burial in

the old fashion of thy race, older than mine.

These modern creeds and mushroom rituals

are not for us whose faiths were born when

God was on the earth, and His sons married

■

MA MELONS.

the daughters of men. So bury me, that I
may join the old-time folk who lived near
neighbors to this modern God, and married
their daughters to His sons."

Here paused he for a space, for the old
wound jumped, and life flowed with his blood.

Then suddenly a change cam2 to his face.
His eyes grew fixed. He placed one hand
above the staring orbs, as if to help them
see afar. A moment thus. Then, whisper-
ing hoarsely, said :

' ''Take thou his hand. Cling to it. The
old Tortoise sight at death is coming. I see
the past and future. Daughter, I see thee
now, and by thy side, thy arms around his
neck, his arms round thee, the man without a
cross ! Aye. She was right. ' The women
of my race get what they crave.' Girl, thou

MA MELONS.

hast won ! Rejoice, rejoice and sing. But,
oh! my God! My God! John Norton!
Look! Daughter, last of my blood, in spite
of all, in spite of all, above thy head hangs,
breaking black, the doom of Mamelons ! "

And with these words of horror on his lips,
the chief, whose bosom bore the Tortoise sio-n
who killed his brother under doom at Mame-
lons, fell back stone dead.

So died he. Three days went by in silence.
Then did the two build high his bier in the
great hall, and place him on it, stripped like
a warrior, to his waist, for so he charged the
Trapper it should be. Thus sitting in the
great chair of cedar, hewn to the fragrant
heart, in the wide hall, hound at feet, the
Tortoise showing plainly on his breast, a fire
of great knots, gummed with odorous pitch,

MA MELONS.

'1 I'-

blazing on the hearth, the two, each by the
faith that guided, made, for the dead chief of
a dead tribe, strange funeral.

And first, the Trapper, standing by the bier,
gazed long and steadfastly at the dead man's
face. Then the girl, going to the mantel,
reached for a book and placed it in his hand
and stood beside him.

Then, after pause, he read :
''I am the resurrection and the Life^
And the liturgy, voiced deeply and slowly
read, as by one who readeth little and labors
with the words, sounded through the great
hall solemnly.

Then the girl, standing by his side, in the
splendor of her beauty, the lights shining
warmly on the dark glory of her face, lifted
up her voice — a voice fugitive from heaven's

MA MELONS.

choir — and sang the words die Trapper had
intoned :

''I am the resurrection and the Llfe^

And her rich tones, pure as note of hermit-
thrush cleaving the still air of forest swamps ;
clear as the song of morning lark singing in
the dewy sky, rose to the hewn rafters and
swelled against the compressing roof as if
they would break out of such imprisonment,
and roll their waves of sound afar and up-
ward until they mingled with kindred tones
in heaven.

Again the Trapper :

''He -who believeth in me, though he -were
dead, yet shall he live I "

And again the marvellous voice pealed forth
the words of everlasting hope, as if from the
old race that lived in the dawn of the world,

'5fi

MA MELONS,

whose blood was in her rich and red, had
come to her the memory of the music they
had heard run thrilHng through the happy air
when the stars of the morning sang together
for joy.

Alps, that such a voice from the old days
of soul and song should lie smothered for-
ever beneath the sand of Mamelons !

Thus the first part. For the Trapper, like
a Christian man without cross, would give his
dead friend holy burial. Then came a pause.
And for a space the two sat silent in the
great hall, while the pitch knots flamed and
flared their splashes of red light through the
gloom.

Then rose the girl and took the Trapper's
place at the dead man's feet. Her hair, black
with a glossy blackness, swept the floor. A

? ii

MA MELONS. g^-

jewel, large and lustrous, an heirloom of her
mother's race, old as the world, burning with
Atlantean flame, a miracle of stone-impris-
oned fire, blazed on her brow. The laro-e
gloom of her eyes was turned upon the dead
man's face, and the sadness of ten thousand
years of life and loss was darkly orbed within
their long and heavy lashes. Her small,
swarth hands hung lifeless at her side, and
the bowed contour of her face drooped heavy
with grief. Thus she, clothed in black cloth
from head to foot, as if that old past, whose
child she was, stood shrouded in her form,
ready to make wail for the glory of men
and the beauty of women it had seen buried
forever in the silent tomb.

Thus stood she for a time, as if she held
communion with the grave and death. Then

1 1

iffi

MAMELONS.

opened she her mouth, and in the mode when
song was language, she poured her feelings
forth in that old tongue, which, like some
fragrant fragment of sweet wood, borne north-
ward by great ocean currents out of southern
seas, for many days storm tossed, but lodged
at last on some far shore and found by those
who only sense the sweetness, but know not
whence it came, lies lodged to-day upon the
mountain slopes of Spain. Thus, in the old
Basque tongue, sweet fibre of lost root, un-
known to moderns, but soft, and sad, and
wild with the joy, the love, the passion of
ten thousand yeeirs, this child of the old past
and the old faiths, lifted up her voice and sang :
'• O death ! I hate thee ! Cold thou art
and dreadful to the touch of the warm hand
and the sweet lips which, drawn by love's

i\\

MA MELONS. gy

dear habit, stoop to kiss the mouth for the
long parting. Cold, cold art thou, and at thy
touch the blood of men is chilled and the
sweet glow in woman's bosom frozen forever.
Thou art great nature's curse. The grape
hates thee. Its blood of fire can neither
make thee laugh, nor sing, nor dance. The
sweet flower, and the fruit which ripens on
the bough, nursing its juices from the ma-
ternal air, and the bird singing his love-song
to his mate amid the blossoms — hate thee!
At touch of thine, O slayer ! the flower fades,
the fruit withers and falls, and the bird drops
dumb into the grasses. Thou art the shadow
on the sunshine of the world ; the skeleton
at all feasts ; the marplot of great plans ; the
stench which fouls all odors; the slayer of
men and the murderer of women. O death !

MAMKLONS.

I! I

I, child of an old race, last leaf from a tree
that shadowed the world, warm in my youth,
loving life, loving- health, loving love. O
death ! how I hate thee ! "

Thus she sang, her full tones swelling fuller
as she sang, until her voice sent its clear
challenge bravely out to the black shadow on
the sunshine of the world and the dread fate
she hated.

Then did she a strange thing ; a rite known to
the morning of the world when all the living
liv^ed in the east and the dead went westward.

She took a gourd, filled to the brown brim,
and placed it in the dead man's stiffened
hand, then laid a rounded loaf beside his
knee, and on a plate of copper at his feet —
serpent edged, and in the centre a pictured
island lying low and long in the blue seas,

MA MELONS.

bold with bluff mountains toward the east,
but sinking westward until it ran from sight
under the ocean's rim, a marvel of old art
in metal working, lost for aye — she placed
a living coal, and on it, from a golden acorn
at her throat, which opened at touch, she
shook a dust, which, falling on the coal,
burned rosy red and filled the hall with lan-
guorous odors sweet as. Heaven. Then, at
triumphant pose, she stood and sang :

Water for thy thirst I have given,

Hurry on ! hurry on !
Bread for thy hunger beside thee,

Speed away! speed away!
Fire for thy need at thy feet,
Mighty chief, fly fast and fly far
To the land where thy father and clans-
men are waiting-.

l^m

ri; I :

MA MELONS.

Odor and oil for the woman thou lovest,
Sweet and smooth may she be on thy breast,
When her soft arms enfold thee.

O death ! thou art cheated !

He shall thirst never more ;

He shall eat and be filled ;

The fire at his feet will revive him ;

Oil and odor are his for the woman he loves;

He shall live, he shall live on forever

With his sires and his people.
He shall love and be loved and be happy.

O ! death grim and great,

O ! death stark and cold,

By a child of the old race that first lived

And first met thee ;
The race that lived first, still lives

And will live forever.
By the child of the old blood, by a girl !

Thou art cheated !

CHAPTER III.

THE mother's message.

"PVENING was on the woods. The girl,
her mother's message in her hands, gift

from the chest that owned the golden key,

sat reading. And this is what she read:

"My daughter: They tell me I must

die. I know it, for a chill, strange to my

blood, is creeping through and thickenino-

in my veins. It is the old tale told from the

beginning of the world — of warm blood

frozen when 'tis warmest, and beauty blasted

at its fullest bloom. For I am at that age

when woman's nature gives most and gets

most from sun and flower, from touch of

MA MELONS.

I \

baby hands and man's strong love, and all
the blood within her moves, tremulous with
forces whose working makes her pure and
sweet, as moves the strong wine in the cask
when ripening its red strength and flavor.
O daughter of a race that never lied save
for a loved one ! blood of my blood, remem-
ber that your mother died hating to die ;
died when life was fullest, sweetest, fiercest
in her ; for life is passionate force, and when
full is fierce to crave, to seek, to have and
hold, and has been so since man loved
woman and by woman was beloved. And so
it is with me. A woman, I crave to live,
and, craving life, must die.

** Death ! how I hate thee ! What right
hast thou to claim me now when I am at
my sweetest? The withered and the wrin-

i I \

Hr.l MELONS.

kled are for tlicc. For tlicc tlic colorless
cheek, the shrivelled breast, the skinny hand
that shakes as shakes the leaf, frost smitten
to its fall, the lustreless eye, and the lone
soul that looketh Ionffin<,dy ahead wIkm-c wait
its loveil ones ; such are for thee, not I. For
I am fair and fresh and full throusrh every
vein of those quick forces, which belong to
life, and hate the grave. This, that you
may know your mother died unwillingly, and
dying iiated death, as all of the old race
and faith have ever done since he first
came, a power, a mystery and a curse into
the world. For in the ancient annals of our
fathers it was written 'that in the begin-
ning of the world there was no death, but
life was all in all.' God talked with them
as father talks with children; their daucrh-

tr^

M 1

, i

MA MELONS.

ters were married to His sons, and earth
and heaven were one.

** Your father was of France, but also of
that blood next oldest ours. He was Lenape,
a branch blown from that primal tree which
was the world's first growth, whose roots
ran under ocean before the first world sank ;
a branch blown far by fate, which, falling,
struck deep into the soil of this western
world, and, vital with deathless sap, grew
and became a tree. This was in ancient
days, when thoughts of men were writ in
pictures and the round world rested on a
Tortoise's back — emblem of water. For the
first world was insular, and blue seas washed
it from end to end, a mighty stretch, which
reached from sunrise into sunset, throueh
many zones. Long after men lost knowl-

MAMELOA'S.

edge and the earth was flat, and for a thou-
sand years the Tortoise symbol was an
unread riddle save to us of the old blood,
who knew the pictured tongue, and laughed
to see the later races, mongrel in blood and
rude, flatten out the globe of God until it
lay flat as their ignorance. Your father was
Lenape, who bore upon his breast the Tor-
toise symbol of old knowledge made safe
by sacredness ; for the wise men of his race,
that the old fact might not be lost, but borne
safely on like a dry seed blown over deserts
until it comes to water, and, lodmne, finds
chance to grow into a full flowered, fruitful
tree, made it, when they died and knowledge
passed, the Totem of his tribe. Thus the
dead symbol kept the living fact alive. Nor
were there lacking other proofs that his blood

MA MELONS.

! '!

was one with mine, though reaching us
through world-wide channels. For in his
tongue, like flecks of gold in heaps of com-
mon sand, were words of the old language,
clear and bright with the original lustre,
when gold was sacred ornament and had no
vulgar use. The mongrel moderns have made
it base and fouled it with dirty trade ; but
in the beginning, and by those of primal
blood, who knew they were of heaven, it was
a sacred metal, held for God.'

^ Among man)' of the ancient races gold and silver
were sacred metals, not used in commerce, but dedi-
cated as votive offerings, or sent to the temples as dues
to the gods. Nothing more astonished and puzzled
the natives of Peru and Mexico than the eagerness
with which the Spaniards sought for gold, and the high
value they put upon it. A West Indian savage traded
a handful of gold dust with one of the sailors with

MA MELONS.

" We met in France, and by French custom
were allied. I was a girl, and knew not my
own self, and he a boy scarce twenty. Rea-
sons of state there were to prompt our mar-
riage, and so we were joined. He was of our
old blood. That drew me, and no other thing,
for love moved not within me, but nested
calmly in my breast as a young bird, ere yet
its wings are grown or it has thrilled with
flight, rests in its downy cincture. He died
at Mamelons ; died under doom. You know
the tale. He died and you came, fatherless,
into the world.

" You are your mother's child. In face and
form, in eye and every look, you are of me

Columbus for some small tool, and then ran as for his
life to the woods, lest the sailor should repent his
bargain and demand the tool to be given back !

11*

MAMELONS.

and not of him. The French cross in his
blood made weakness, and the stronger blood
prevailed. This is the law. A turbid stream
sinks with quick ebb ; the pure flows level
on. The Jews prove this. The ancient wis-
dom stands in them. The creed, which steals
from their old faith, whatever makes it strong,
has armed the world against them, but their
blood triumphs. The old tide, red and true,
unmixed, pure, laughs at these mongrel
streams. Strong with pure strength it bides
its time. The world will yet be theirs, and
so the prophecy of their sacred books be
met. Pure blood shall win, albeit muddy
veins to-day are boasted of by fools.

'* But we are older far than they. The
Jews are children, while on our heads the
rime of hoary time rests white as snow. Our

MAiUELOiVS.

race was old when Egypt, sailing fr

g Irom our an-

stral

orts, reached, as a colony, the Nile.'
From tideless Sea,^ to the Green Island in
the west,3 from southern Spain to Arctic
zones, the old Basque banner waved ; while
under Mamelons, where waits the doom for
insult to pure blood, your fathers anch. -d
ships from the beginning. What loss came
to the earth when the gods of the old world,
of whom we are, sank under sea and with
them took the perfect knowledge! Alas!
alas ! the chill creeps in and on and I must

' It is certain tiiat th.e Iberian race settled on the
Spanish peninsuhi a long time before the Egyptians, a
sister colony from the same unknown parental source,
doubtless, began their marvellous structures on the
Nile.

^ The Mediterranean.
^ Ireland.

B'EU07!;zcA

ii,

lOO

MA MELONS.

hurry ! I would make you wise before I
die with a wisdom which none save the
women of our race might speak or learn.

'' You will read this when I am fixed among
the women of our race in the great realms
whc^re they are queens. For since the first
the women of our race have ruled and had
their way, whether for good or ill, and both
have come to them and through them unto
others. And so forever will it be. For
beauty is a fate, and unto what 'tis set none
know. The issue proves it and naught else.
So be it. She who has the glory of the fate
should have the courai'e to bide issue.

" Your body is my body ; your face my
face ; your blood my blood. The warmth of
the old fires are in it, and the sweet heat
which glows in you will make you under-

i !

Kwaws

MA MELONS.

lOI

Stand. You are my child, and being so, I
give you of myself. I love. Love as the
women of our race and only they may love.
Love with a love that maketh all my life so
that without it all is death to me. That love
I, dying, bestow on you. It came to me like
flash of fire on altar when holy oils are kin-
dled and the censer swung. Here I first
met him. Death had me. He fought and
took me from his hand. In the beo-innino-
men were large and strong, and women
beautiful. Giants were on the earth, and
our '^lothers wedded them. Each was a rose,
thorn-guarded, and the strongest plucked
her when in bloom and wore her, full of
sweets, upon his bosom. Since then the
women of our blood have loved laro-e men
Weak ones we hated. None save the

1.11

I02

MAMELONS.

% Ti

( i>

\l P

mighty, brawny, and brave have ever felt
our soft arms round them, or our mouths
on theirs. Thus has it been.

" I loved him, for his strength was as the
ancients, and with it gentleness like the
gods. But he was humble, and knew not
his own greatness, and, blinded by humility,
he would not see that I was his. So I
waited, waited as all women wait, that they
may win. It is not art, but nature, the
nature of a rose, which, daily opening more
and more to perfect bloom in his warm light,
makes the sun know his power at last. For
love reveals all greatness in us, as it does
all faults. Well did I know that he should
see at last his fitness for me, and, without
violence to himself, yield to my loveliness
and be drawn within the circle of my arms.

\\%

MA MELONS.

103

should I win at last, as have the women
of our race won always. But death mars
all. So has it been since women lived. His
is the only knife whose edge may cut the
silken bands we wind round men. Vain is
all else. Faiths may not stand against us,
nor pride, nor honor. Our power draws
stronger. The grave alone makes gap 'twixt
lovely woman's loving and bridal bed. So,
dying thus before my time I am bereft of all.
" But you shall win, for in you I shall live
again and to full time. I know that you will
love him, for you drew my passion to you
with my milk, and all my thoughts were of
him, when, with large receptive eyes, you
lay a baby in my arms, day after day, scan-
ning my face, love-lighted for him. Aye,
you will love him. For in your sleep,

I04

MAAfKUhYS.

'VI I

cradled on the heart that worshiped him, its
warmth for him warmed you, its beating
thrilled, and from my mouth, murmured
caressini^ly in dreams, your ears and tongue
learned his dear name before mine own. So
art thou fated unto love as I to death.
Both could not v/in, iuid hence, perhaps, 'tis
well I die. For had both lived, then both
had loved, mother and child been rivals, and
one suffered worse than dying. Nor am I
without joy. For once, when I was wooing
him with art he did not know, coaxing him
up to me with sweet praises sweetly said,
and purposely I swa}'ed so my warm body
fell into his arms and there lay for a moment,
vibrant, all aglow, while all my woman's soul
went through my lifted and dimmed eyes to
him, I saw a Hash of fire flame in his face.

Its

iting
11 red

ngue

So
tcath.
i, 'tis
both
, and
am I

ooing

r him
said,
body
)ment,
s soul
yes to
3 face,

MA MELONS.

and felt a throb jump through his body, as
the God woke in him, which told me he was
mortal. And, faint with joy, I slid down-
ward from his arms and in the fragrant
grasses sat, throbbing, covering up my face
with happy hands lest he should see the
glory of it and be frightened at what his
touch had done. I swear by the old blood,
that moment's triumph honored, that the
memory of that blissful time takes from death
its sting and robs the grave of victory, as
I lie dying.

" Yea, thou shalt win. The power will be
in thee, as it has been in me, to win him or
any whom women made as we set heart on.
But woo him with that old art of innocence,
-snow white, though hot as fire, lost to the
weak or brazen women of these mongrel

'II

f:M

, iilJJ

io6

MAMELONS,

1 1

races that fill the world to-day, who dare not
dare, or daring^, overdo. Be slow as sunrise.
Let thy love dawn on him as morning dawns
upon the earth, and warmth and light grow
evenly, lest the quick flash blind him, or the
sudden heat appall, and he see nothing right,
but shrink from thee and his new self as
from a wicked thing. I may not help thee.
What fools these moderns are to think so.
The dead have their own lives and loves, and
note not the living. Else none might be at
peace or know comfort above the sky, and all
souls would make wail for wrongs and woes
done and borne under sun. So is it well
that parting should be parting, and what wall
divides the dead from living be beyond pen-
etration. For each woman's life is sole. Her
plans are hidden with her love. Her skill is

MAMELONS.

107

of it a sweet secrecy, a„<| all l,er winning is
self- won. I do not fear. Thou wilt have the
wooing wisdom of thy race. Thy eyes are
such as men give life to look into. The pas-
sion in thy blood would purchase thrones.
. Thou hast the grace of form which maddens
men. Thy voice is music. Thy touch warm
velvet to the skin. The first and perfect
woman lives complete, in thee!

" No more. In the old land no one is left.
The modern cancer eats all there. New fash-
ions and new faiths crowd in. Only low blood
is left, and that soon yields to pelf and pain.
Last am I of the queenly line and thou art
last of me. I came of gods. To gods I go.
The tree that bore the fruit of knowledge for
our se.. in the sunrise of the world is stripped
to the last sweet leaf. If thou shalt die leav-

io8

MA MELONS,

ing no root, the race God made is ended.
With thee the gods quit earth, and the old
red blood beats back and upward to the skies.
Gold hast thou arid broad acres. Youth and
health are thine. Win his great strength to
thee, for he is pure as strong, and from a
primal man get perfect children, that in this
new world in the west a new race may arise
rich in old blood, born among the hills, strong
with the strength of trees, whose sons shall
be as mountains, and whose daughters as the
lakes, whose loveliness is lovelier because of
the reflected mountains dimly seen in them.

'•' Farewell. Love greatly. It is the only
way that leadeth woman to her heaven. The
moderns have a saying in their creed that God
is love. In the beginning he was F'ather.
The race that sprang from Him said that,

■m

MAMELONS.

109

and said no more. It was enough. Love
then was human, and we gloried in it. Not
the pale love of barren nun, but love red as
the rose, warm as the sun, the love of moth-
erly women, sweet mouthed, deep breasted
vcced with cradle songs and soft melodies
which made men love their homes. Love
thou and live on the old level. Be not
ashamed to be full woman. Love strength
Bear children to it. Be mother of a mighty
race born for this western world. Multiply
Inherrt ; and send the old blood flowing from
thy veins, a widening current, thrilling through
the ages ; that it may be as red, as pure, as
strong at sunset as it was in the sunrise of
the world.

"Once more, farewell, sweet daughter
These are last words, a voice from out the

I '1

!' I

1 ■!

111

I lO

MAMELONS.

sunset, sweet and low as altar hymn wan-
dering down the columned aisles of some
old temple. So may it sound to thee. So
live, so woo, so win, that when thou comest
through the portals of the west to that fair
throne amid those other ones which stretch
their stateliness across the endless plain of
ended things, which waits for thee as one
has waited for every woman of our queenly
line, thou shalt leave behind at going a new
and noble race, from thee and him, in which
the east and west, the sunrise and the sun-
set of the world shall, like two equal glories,
meet condensed and shine. So fare thee
well. Fear not Mamelons. For if thou fail-
est there, thou shalt be free of fault, and all
the myriad millions of our blood shall out
of sunset march, and from the shining sands

MAMELONS.

Ill

of fate lift thee high and place thee on the
last, the highest, and the whitest throne of
our old line. So ends it. One more sweet
kiss, sweet one. One more long look into
his face — grave, grave and sad he gazeth
at me. God! What a face he has! Shall
I find match for it to-morrow when I stand,
amid the royal, beyond sunset? Perhaps.
Death, you have good breeding. You have
waited well. Come, now, I will go on with
thee. Yes, yes, I see the way. 'Tis very
plain. It has been hollowed by so many
feet. Good-bye to earthly light and life. It
may be I shall find a better. I'll know to-
morrow."

Here the scroll ended. Long the living
sat pondering what the dead had writ. She
kissed the writing as it were holy text. Then

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112

MAMELONS.

placed it in the chest, and turned the golden
key and said : " Sweet mother, thou shalt
live in me. Our race shall not die out. My
love shall win him." Then went she to the
great room wherein the Trapper by the red
fire sat and said : " John Norton, thou art
my guest. What may I do to pleasure
thee ? Here thou must stay until my mind
can order out my life and make the dubious
road ahead look plain. While underneath
my roof, I pray, command me."

All this with such grave dignity and sweet
grace as she were queen and he some kins-
man, great and wise.

The Trapper stooped and lifted a huge log
upon the fire, which broke the lower brands.
The chimney roared, and the large room bright-
ened to the flame. Then, facing her, he said :

MAMELONS.

•13
"Guest I am and servant, both Jn one
and must be so awhile. Winter is on us'
The fire feels snow. It putters as if the
flakes were falling in it. It ,-3 a si„„ th-it
never lies. Hark - you can hear the konk
of geese as they wedge southward. The
wmter will be long, but I must stay."

"And are you sorry you must stay?" re
plied the girl. <. I ,;,! do what I n.ay to
make the days and nights pass swiftly."

" ^^^' "^>'' >'°" do mistake," returned the
Trapper. « I am not sorry for myself, but
Aee. If I may only help thee : how can I
help thee.?"

"John Norton," replied the girl, and she
spoke with sweet earnestness as when the
heart is vocal, " thou art a man, and wise •
I am a girl, and know nought save books

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114

MA MELONS.

But you, you have seen many men and tribes
of men ; counciled with chiefs, been comrade
with the great, sharing their inner thoughts
in peace and war, and thou hast done great
deeds thyself, of which fame speaks widely.
Why do you cheapen your own value so,
mg thyself a common man? My uncle
said you were the best, the bravest, and the
wisest man he ever met, and he had sat with
kings and chiefs, and heard the best men
of both worlds tell all they knew. Dear
friend, wilt thou not be my teacher, and
teach me that, which licth now, like treasure
hidden, locked in thy silence?"

" I teach thee ! " exclaimed the Trapper.
** I, an unlettered man, a hunter of the
woods, teach one who readeth every tongue,
who knoweth all the past, to the beginning

MAMELONS. ^ ^

of the world, whose licad has i„ it all these
shelves of knowledge," and the Trapper
svvept a gesture toward the thousand books
that thickened the great hall from floor to
ceiling. "I teach thee!"

" Ves, you," answered the girl. " You can
teach me, or any woman that ever lived, or
any man. For you were given at your birth
the seeing eye, the listening ear, and the
still patience of the mountain cat, which on
the bare bough sits watching, from sunset
until sunrise, motionless. In the old days
such gifts meant wisdom, wider, deeper, more
exact than that of books, for so my mother
often told me. She said the wisest men
who ever lived were those who, in deep
woods and caves and on the shore of seas,
saw, heard, and pondered on the life and

[

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MAMELONS.

mysteries of nature, noting- all things, small
and great, cause and effect, tracing out con-
nections which interlace the parts into one
whole, so making one solid woof of knowl-
edge, covering all the world of fact and
substance in the end. And once, when you
were in the mood, and had been talking in
the hall, drawn on and out by her, you told
of climes and places you had seen, and
strange things met in wandering, of great
mounds buiiJed by some ancient race, long
dead ; of cities, under sunset, still standing
solid, without men ; of tall and shapely pil-
lars, writ with mystic characters, on the far
shore of the mild sea, whence sailed the old
dead of my race, at clying, far away to west-
ern heavens, where to-day they live ; of
caverns in deep earth, made glorious with

MAMELOXS.

■ crystals, stalactites, prisms, and shining orna-
ments, where, in old time the gods of
the under world were chambered ; of trees
that mingled bloom and fruitage the Ion.

year through, and flowers that never faded

"" "'^ '■°°' ^^^ -'■• of creeping reptiles,
snakes, and savage poisonous things that
struck to kill, and of their antidotes, grow-
'ng for man and beast amid the very grasses
where they secreted venom ; of rivers wide
and deep, boiling up through solid earth
full-tided, which, flowing widely on, dropped'
suddenly like a plummet to the centre of
A- world ; of plains, fenced by the sky, far
reaching as the level sea, so that the red sun

rose and set in P-rasses - c^^ f.

grasses, ot fires which, ht

stars with smoke

by lightning, blackened the
and burned all the world ; of

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oceans in the

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MAMELOXS.

\ ii

west, which, flowing- with joint floods, fell
over mountains, plunging their weights of
water sheer downward, so that the rocky
framework of the round earth shook ; of
winds that blew as out of chaos, revolving
on a hollow axis like a wheel buzzing, invis-
ible, charged to the centre with electric force,
and fires which burst explosive, kindling the
air like tinder ; and of ten thousand mar-
vels and curious things, which you have met,
noted, and pondered on, seeking to know
the primal fact or force which underlaid
them. So that my mother said that night,
when we were in our chamber, that you were
the wisest man she ever met ; wise with the
wisdom of her ancient folk, whose knowl-
edge lived, oral and terse, before the habit
of bookmaking came to rive the solid sub-

MAMELONS.
stance, heavy and rich, into thin veneer, to
make vain show for fools to wonder at
Teach nie! Who might thou not teach
thou seeing, silent man, type of my fi„t
fathers who, gifted with rare senses and with
w.t to question nature and to learn mastered
all wisdom before books were."

" Aye, aye," returned the Trapper, not dis-
pleased to hear her praise as rare what
seemed to him so common, "these things
I know in truth, for I have wandered far
seen much, and noted closely, and he who
sleeps in woods has time to think. But.
girl. I am an unlearned man, and know'
naught of books."

" Books ! " exclaimed the girl. <- What are
books but oral knowledge spread out i„
words which lack the fire of forceful utter-

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MAMKLOAS.

Rut

ihall ki

thci

The

ance r init you snail know
ter clays arc short, the nights are long ; our
toil is simple ; wood for the fire, food fc^r
the table, and a swift push each t ^ along
the snow for exercise ; or, if the winds will
keep some acres clean, our skates shall ring
to the smitten ice, piercing it with treml)lings
till all the shores cry out. All other hours
for sleep and books. I read in seven
tongues, one so old that none save ^ in all
the world can read it ; for it was \» . . when
letters were a mystery, known only unto
those who fed the sacred fire and kept God's
altars warm. And I will read you all the
wisdom of the world, and its rare laughter,
which, mother said, was the fine effervesce
of wisdom, the pungent foam and sparkle
of it. So you shall know. And one old

III.' I

MA MELONS.

T2I

scroll there is, rollecl in foil of jjold, scaled

ter,
see

\le
old

ith the

uil.

'mbol of

serpent seal, symbol ot eternity,
scribed with pictured knovvledc^e, an heirloom
of my race, whose key alone I have, writ in
rainbow colors, when the world was young,
the language of the gods, who first made
signs for speech and put the speaking mouth
upon a page. It was the first I learned. My
mother taught it to me standing at her knee
— for so the law says it shall be done, a
law old with twice ten thousand years of
age — that he who knows this scroll shall
teach it, under silence, to his or her first
born, standing at knee, that the old knowl-
edge of prime things and days may not
perish from the earth it tells of, but live on
forever while the earth endures. For on it
is the record of the beginning, told by those

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122

MAMELONS.

who saw it ; of the first man and how he

came to be ; of woman, first, when born and
of what style. A list of healing simples,
antidotes 'gainst death, and of rare oils which
search the bones and members of the mor-
tal frame and banish pain ; and others yet,
sweet to the nose, and volatile, that make
the face to shine, for feasts and happy days,
and being poured on women, make their skin
softer than down, whiter than drifted snow,
and so clean and clear that the rich blood
pinks through it like a red rose centred in
crystal. And on it, too, is written other and
strange rules, wild and weird. How one
may have the seeing eye come to him.
How to call up the wicked dead from under
ground, and summon from their heaven in
the west, where they live and love, the

l^AMELOJVS.
blessed. How marrla^re cme ..
-™. What part ,•; J """ ""''

P- hers tha '^ '° "' ^"' ^^''-

and sh "'' '^ ^ J"°y ^° °*er,

' t' ^'"^ ''— d. be as sweet slip

r r:' -^"^ '^^'^^ °^ ^^^« ^^e o,d z.

W. chndren, health,, ra,V, and stron, a

: \^^" ''- -^■■— e read, J;:
W'th sharpened thouj^ht mav KV u

the vital eist d '■""^'^ '°

g'st, deep centred within the hard

nnd of words, and taste the If ■
of true sense So !!^ " '""^ ^^^^^-ss
<-"-^e. So wdl we teach each other
and jrrow wise equally ■ ,

->«<= of th,n.s and places you ,,ave seen •

• ^'°" '"'^ '^"-'-'^- -it in books that I
have read." ^

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CHAPTER IV.

LOVES VICTORY.

IV TEXT day, the Trapper's sign proved true.

Winter fell whitely on the world. Its

soft fleece floated downward to the earth

whiter than washed wools. The waters of the

lake blackened in contrast to the shores. The

flying leaves — tardy vagrants from the branch

— were smothered 'mid. the flakes, and dropped

like shot birds. Toward night the wind arose.

The forest moaned. At sunset, in the gray

gloom, a flock of ducks roared southward

through the whirling storm. A field of geese,

leaderless, bewildered, blinded by the driving

flakes, scented water, and, like a noisy mob,

124

^'^fAA/ELOAS.

fell, With a mighty splash,

J25

- ' ^nto the lake
Summer went with the day, and with the
n.ght can,e winter, white, cold, and stormy
roanng violently through the air.

'" "^« g-at hall sat the two. The logs

- the wide hearth piled high, glowed red

- a solid coal from end to end. cracked with
concentric rings. They reddened the hall
books, skins, and antlered trophies of the'
; "• '^' '''°"S man and the girls dark
face stood forth in the warm luminance, pre-
Raphaelite. The Trapper sat in a great chair.
bu.It solidly of rounded w.od. untouched by

tool, but softly cushioned. The rrlH .

'■"'^ g'n, recum-

-t. rested on a pile of skins, black with
'" ^'-y blackness of the bear, full furred.

;i '""• ' ^-"^' -'-t. from the looms
of France. Her moccasins, snow white. On

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126

MAMELOiXiS.

' I

either wrist a serpent coil of gold. A dia-
mond at her throat. A red fez on her head,
while over her rich dress the glossy masses
of her hair fell tangled to her feet. She read
from an old book, bound with rich plush,
whose leaves were vellum, edged with artful
garniture and lettered richly with crimson ink
— a precious relic of old literature, saved from
those vandal flames w^hich burned the stored
knowledge of the world to ashes at Alexan-
dria. The characters were Phcenician, and
told the story of that race to which we owe
our modern alphabet ; whose ships, a thou-
sand years before the Christ, went freighted
with letters, seeking baser commerce, to every
shore of the wide world. She read by the
fire's red light, and the ruddy glow fell viv-
idly on the pictured page, the rich dress out-

^^lAMELOA^.

127

I'nmg her ful, fo™ ,„, ,,, ^^^^^^.^ ^^^^
of'^erface. It was the sto^ of ,„ ,„ ^^^^

-no library has it now-the story of their
nse. their glory, and their fall. She read for
hours, pausing here and there to tell her lis
tener of connecting things -of Ro^e that
was not then ; of Greece yet to be born ; of
Egypt, swarming on the Nile and building
monuments for eternity, and of her ancient
-e. west of the tideless sea, whose annals
even then, reached backward through ten
thousand years, thus making clear what other-
wise were dark, and teaching him all history
So passed the hours till midnight struck
Then she arose, and lifting goblet half-filled
w|th water, poured it on the hearth, saying-
" ' 'P'" *'^ "^'- t" a race whose goin^
emptied half the world." This solemnly for

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128

MAMELONS.

she was of the past, and held to its old fash-
ions, knowing all its symbolism, its rites, its
daily customs, and what they meant, for so
she had been taught, and nothing else, by
her whose blood and beauty she repeated.
Then took the Trapper's hand and laid it on
her head, bent low, and said : " Dear friend,
I am so glad to serve you. I have enjoyed
this night beyond all nights I ever knew. I
hope for many others like to it, and even
sweeter." And saying this she looked with
glad and peaceful eyes into his face, and
glided noiselessly from the room.

The Trapper piled high the logs again,
and, lying down upon the skins where she
had lain, gazed with wide eyes into the coals.
The gray was in the sky before he slept, and
in his sleep he murmured; "It cannot be. I

MAMELON^\

129

am an unlearned man and poor. I am not
fit." Above him in lier clwmber, nestling i„
sleep, the girl sighed in her dreams and
murmured ; '• How blind he is ! " And then :
"My love shall win him!"

Dear girl, sweet soul of womanhood, gift
to these gilded days from the old solid past,
I would the thought had never come to me'
to tell this tale of Mamelons !

So went the winter ; and so the two grew
upward side by side in knowledge. He
learning of the past as taught in books ;
of men long dead whose names had been un-
known to him ; of deeds done by the mighty
of the world; of cities, monuments, tombs
long buried ; of races who mastered the world
and died mastered by their own ^veaknesses ;
of faiths, philosophies, and creeds once bright

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130

MAMELO.XS.

and strong as fire, now cold and weak as
sodden ashes ; of vanished rites and mysteries
and lost arts which once were the world's
wonder — all were unfolded to him, so that
his strong mind grasped the main point of
each and understood the whole. And she
learned much from him ; of bird and beast
and fish ; of climates and their growths ; of
rocks and trees ; of nature's signs and move-
ments by day and night ; of wandering tribes
and mongrel races ; the lore of woods and
waters and the differences in governments
which shape the lives of mon. So taught
they each the other ; she, swift of thought
and full of eastern fire ; he, slower minded,
but calm, sagacious, comprehensive, remem-
bering all and settling all in wise conclusion.
Two better halves, in mind and soul and

131

body, to make a perfect whole, were never
brought by fate togetl,er since God made
-ale and female. The past and present, fire
and wood, fancy and judgment, beauty to
w.n and strength to hold, sound minds in
sound bodies, the perfect womanhood and man-
hood ideal, typical, met, conjoined i,i them.

Slowly she won him. Slowly she drew
him. with the innocence of loving, to one-
ness in wish and thought and feeling, with
her sweet self. Slowly, as the moon lifts
the great tide, she lifted him toward her,
until his nature stood highest, full flooded'
nigh, bathed in all the wide, deep flowing of
its greatness, in her white radiance. It was
an angel's mission, and all the wild passion
of her blood, original, barbaric, was sobered
with reverent thought of the great destiny

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132

MA MELONS.

that she, wedded to him, stood heir to. She
had no other hope, nor wish, nor dream, than
to be his. She was all woman. This life was
all to her. She had no future. If she had,
she wisely put it by until she came to it. She
took no thought of far to-morrow. Sufficient
for the day was the joy or sorrow of it. She
lived. She loved. That was enough. What
more might be to woman than to live, to
love, worship her husband and bear children ?
Such life were heaven. If other heaven there
were she could not crave it, being satisfied.
So felt she. So had she felt. So acted that
it might be ; and now, at last, she stood on
that white line each perfect woman climbs
to, passing which, radiant, content, grateful,
she enters — heaven.

MA MELONS.

Spring came. Heat touched the snow, and
it grew liquid. The hill.s murmured as with
many tongues, and low music flowed rippling
down their sides. The warm earth sweetened
with odors. Sap stirred in root and bough,
and the fibred sod thrilled with delicious pas-
sages of new life.

From the far South came flaming plumage
breasts of gold and winged music to the
groves. The pent roots of herbs, spiced and
pungent, burst upward through the moistened
mould, and breathed wild, gamy odors through
the woods. The skeleton trees thickened with
leaf formations, and hid their naked grayness
under green and gold. Each day birds of
passage, pressed by parental instinct, slanted
wings toward the lake, and, sailing inward,
to secluded bays, made haste to search for

i I

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134

MAMELONS.

ifS^

nests. Mothnr otters swam heavy through
the tide, and the great turtles, himbcring from
the water, digged deep pits under starlight,
in the sand, and cunningly piled their pyra-
mid of eggs. All nature loved and mated,
each class of life in its own order, and God
began the re-creation of the world.

The two were standing under leafy screen
on the lake's shore, the warm sun overhead
and the wide water lying level at their feet.
Nature's mood was on them, and their
hearts, like equal atmospheres, flowed to
sweet union. Reverently they spoke, as soul
to soul, concealing nothing, having nothing
to conceal, of their deep feeling and of duty
unto each. The girl held up her clean, sweet
nature unto him, that he might ^' it, wholly
his forever ; and he kept notL g back, ohe

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MA MELONS.

135

knew he loved her, and to her the task to
make him feel the honor she received in
being loved by him. So stood they, alone
■n the deep woods, apart from men, in grave
sweet counsel. Thus spake the man :

" ' '°^° y°"- Ada ; you know it. I would
lay down my life for you. But our marriage
may not be. I am too old."

" Too old ! " replied the girl. .- Thou hast
seen forty years, I twenty. Thou art the
riper, sweeter, better; that is all. I would
not wed a boy. The women of our race
have wedded men. big bodied, strong to
fight, to save, to make home safe, their coun-
try free, and fame, that richest heritage to
children. My mother broke the rule, and
rued it. She might have rued it worse had
death not cut the tightening error which

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136

MAMELONS.

knotted her to comingr torture. My heart
holds hard to the old law made for the
women of our race by ancient wisdom ;
* Wed not boys, but wed grave and gentle
men. For women would be ruled, and who,
of pride and fire, would be ruled by strip-
lings ? ' And again : * Let ivy seek the full-
grown oak, nor cling to saplings.' I love
the laws that were, love the old faiths and
customs. They filled the world with beauty
and brave men. They gave great nature
opportunity to keep great, kept noble blood
from base, strength from wedding weakness,
and barred out mongrelism from the world,
which in the ancient days was deadliest sin,
corrupting all. O love! you do mistake,
saying * I am too old.' For women have
ever the child's habit in them. They love

MAAIELOAS. j,y

to be held in arms, love to look up to lov-
ing eyes, love to be commanded, and obey
strong sovereignty. The husband is head-
head of the house. He sits in wide au-
thority, and from his wisdom flow counsel,
command, which all the house, wife, children,
and servants, bend to, obedient. How can
a stripling fill such seat ? How sit such dig-
nity on a beardless face? How, save from
seasoned strength, such safety come to all ?
O full grown man! be oak to me, and let
me twine my weakness round tliy streno-th
that I may find safe lodgment, nor be shaken
in my roots when storms blow strong. Too
old ! I would thy head were sown with the
white rime of added years. So should I
love thee more ! "

Ah me, such pleading from love's mouth.

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MAMELONS,

such sweet entreaty from love's heart man
never heard before, in these raw days, when
callow youth is fondled by weak women, and
boys with starting beards push wisdom, gray
and grave, from council chairs.
Then, in reply, the Trapper said :
** Atla, it cannot be. I will admit that
you say, sooth, my years do not forbid.
Boys are rash, hot-headed, quick of tongue,
ill-mannered, lacking patience, just sense, and
slow-mannered gentleness which comes with
added years, and that deep knowledge which
slows blood and gentles speech, and I do
see that you fit well to these, and would be
happier with a man thus charactered. But,
letting that go by — and all my heart is
grateful that it may — still marriage may not
be between us, for thou art rich and I am

MAMELONS.

139

poor, and so it should not be. For husband
should own house; the wife make home.
What say you, am I right or wrong?"

To which the girl made answer: ''Thou art
an old-time man, John Norton, and this judg-
ment fits the ancient wisdom. For in the
beginning so it was. The male built nest,
the female feathered it with song. So each
had part in common ministry. The man was
greater, richer, than the woman, and with
earthly substance did endow. And she in
turn gave sweet companionship, and sang
loneliness from his life with mother songs
and children's prattle. Thus in the begin-
liing. Yea, thou art right, as thou art always
right. For, being sound in heart and head,
thou canst not err. Thy judgment goes
straight to the centre of the truth as goes thy

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mmmmmimmmiimiiiim.

140

MA MELONS.

bullet. But as men lived and died, change
came to the first order. For men without
male issue died and left great dower to girls.
Women, by no fault of theirs, nor ^ lack of
modesty, grew rich by gifts of death, which
are the gifts of fate. And changing circum-
stance changed all, making the old law void.
The gods pondered, and a new order rose.
By chance, at first, then by ordainment, roy-
alty left male and followed female blood, be-
cause their blood was truer to itself, less
vagrant, purer, better kept. And women of
red blood and pure, clothed in royalty from
shame, made alliances with men whom their
souls loved, and gave rank, wealth, and their
sweet selves in lavishness of loving, which
gives all and keeps nothing back. Such was
the habit of my race and line from age to

MAMELOAS.

141

age, even as I read you from the pictured
scroll, rolled in foil of gold, that only I, of
all the world, can read ; and if I die, leaving
no child, the golden secret goes with me to
the gods, and all the ancient lore is lost to
men forever. This to assist your judgment
and make the scales hang level from your
hand for just decision. Am I to blame be-
cause I stand as heir to ancient blood and
wealth 1 Shall these wide acres, gold in yon-
der house, gems in casket, and diamonds
worn for ten thousand years by women of
my race, queens of the olden time, when in
their hands they lifted world-wide sceptres,
divide thee and me ? Has love no weight in
the just scales you, by the working of some
old fate, I know not what, hold over me and
my soul's wish to-day? Be just to your own

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142

MA MELONS.

soul, be just to mine, and fling these doubts
aside as settled forever by the mighty Power
that works in darkness, and through darkness,
to the light, shaping our fates and ordering
life and death, joy and grief, beyond our
power to fix or change. Blown by two winds,
whose coming and going we list not, we, two,
meet here. Strong art thou and I am weak,
but shall thy strength repel my weakness?
Rich, without fault, I am. My blood is older
than these hills, purer than yonder water, and
wilt thou make an accident, light as a feather
ir just balances, outweigh a fact sweet as
heaven, heavy as fatp ? The queens of old,
whose blood is one with mine, who spake
the self-same tongue and loved the self-same
way, chose men to be their kings ; so I, by
the same law, choose thee. Be thou my king.

MA MELONS.

143

Rule me in love. By the old right and rule
of all my race, I place thy hand upon my
head, and so pass under yoke. I am thy
subject, and all my days shall be a sweet
subjection. Do with me as thou wilt. I
make no terms. My feet shall walk with
thine to the dark edge of death. Further I
know not. This life we may make sure. The
next is or is not ours to order. . No man may
say. Lord of my earthly life, take me, take
me to thy arms, that I, last of an old race,
last of its blood, left sole in all the world, with-
out father, mother, friend, may feel I am be-
loved by him I worship, and drink one glad,
sweet cup before I go to touch the bitter
edge of dubious chance at Mamelons."

Then love prevailed. Doubt went from
out his soul. His nature, unrestrained.

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144

MA MELONS.

leaped up in a red rush of joy to eyes and
face. He lifted hands and opened arms to
her. To them she swept, as bird into safe
thicket, chased by hawk, with a glad cry.
Panting she lay upon his bosom, trembling
through all her frame, placed mouth to his
and lost all sense but feeling. Then, with a
gasp, drew back and lifted dewy eyes to his,
as fed child to nursing mother's face, or saint
her worshiping gaze to God.

But the gods of her old I'ace, standing
beyond sunset, lifted high, saw, farther on,
the sandy slope of Mamelo7is, and, while
she lay in heaven on her lover s breast, they
bent low their heads and wept.

• • • • • • • •'

Spring multiplied its days and growths.
Night followed night as star follows star in

MAMELONS. . . .

their far circuits, wheeling forever on. Each
morn brought sweet surprise to each. For
like the growths of nature so grew their love
fuller with bloom each morn ; with fragrance
fuller each dewy night. Her nature, under
love's warmth, grew richer, seeding at its
core for sweeter, larger life. His borrowed
tone and color from her own, and fragrance.
So, in the happy days of the long spring,
as earth grew warmer, sweeter with the days,
the two grew, with common growth and
closer, urttil they stood in primal unity, no
longer twain, but one.

One day she came, and put her hand in
his and said :

" Dear love, there is an old rite by which
my people married. It bindeth to the
grave; no farther. For there the old faith

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'):*

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146

MA MELONS.

Stopped, not knowing what life might be
beyond, or by whom ordered. Thine goeth
on through death as Hght through darkness,
and hokis the hope that earthly union lasts
forever. It may be so. Perhaps the Gali-
lean knew better than the gods what is with-
in the veil, for so the symbol is. It is a
winning faith. My heart accepts it as a happy
chance ; and, did it not, it would not matter.
Thy faith is mine, and thine shall be my
God. Perchance the ancient deities and your
modern One are but the same, with different
names. We worshiped ours with fruits and
flowers and incense ; with dancing feet, glad
songs, and altars garlanded with flowers ;
moistened with wine ; you, yours with dole-
ful music, bare rites, the beggary of petition
and cold reasoning. Ours was the better

MAMELONS. j,-

fashion, for it kept the happy habits up of
children, gladly grateful for father gifts, and
so prolonged the joyous childhood of the
world. But in this thy faith is better — it
hangs a star above the tide of death for love
to steer by. My heart accepts the sign.
Thy faith is mine. We will go down to
Mamelons, and there be married by the holy
man who wears upon his breast the sign
you trust to."

"Nay, nay; it shall not be," exclaimed
the Trapper. - Atla, thou shalt not go to
Mamelons. There waits the doom for the
mixed blood. There died thy father, and
all its sands are full of moldering men. We
will be married here by the old custom of
thy people, and God, who looketh at the
heart and knoweth all, will bless us."

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MA MELONS.

" Dear love," returned the girl, '* thy word
is law to me. I have no other. It shall be
as thou wilt. But listen to my folly or my
wisdom, I know not which it is : I fear not
Mamelons. There is no coward blood in
me. The women of our race face fate with
open eyes. So it has been from the begin-
ning. Death sees no pallor in our cheeks.
To love we say farewell, then graveward go
with steady steps. The women of my house
— a lengthy line, stretching downward from
the past beyond annals — whose blood flows
red in me, lived queens, and, dying, died as
they lived. I would die so ; lest, if thy faith
is true, they would not own me kin nor give
me place among them when I came, if I
feared fate or death. Besides, the doom may
not hold good toward me. I know my uncle

AfAM/CLOXS.

149

saw the sight ; but he was only 1 ortoise, a
branch blown far from the old tree and lost
a thousand years amid strange peoples, and
his sight could not, therefore, be sure.
Moreover, love, if the curse holds, and I am
under doom, how may I escape? For fate
is fate, and he who runs, runs quickest
into it. So let us go, I pray, to Mame-
Ions, and there be married by the holy man,
the symbol ' on whose breast was known to
our old race and carved on altars ten thou-
sand years before the simple Jew was born

* The cross as a symbol is traceable through all the
old rnces, even the remotest in point of time. It was
originally a symbol of plenty and joy, and so stood
emblematic of happiness for tens of thousands of years.
The Romans connected it with their criminal law, as
we have the gallows, and so it became a symbol of
shame and sorrow.

ill

^50

MAMELONS,

at Bethlehem. So shall the symbol of the
old faith and the new be for the first time
kissed by two who represent the sunrise and
the sunset of the woi'ld ; and the god of
morning and of evening be proved to be the
same, though worshiped under different names."

He yielded, and the two made ready to
set face toward Mamelons.

There was, serving in her house, an old
red servitor, who had been chief, in other
days, of Mistassinni.' His dwindled tribe

^ This lake lies to the northwest of Lake St. John some
300 miles, and within some 200 miles of James' Bay. It
was first discovered by white men in the person of
Pbre Abanel, in 1661, a Jesuit missionary, en route to
Hudson's Bay. This is the lake about which so much
has been said in Canada and the States, and so much
printed. In fact, 'very little is accurately known of it,

■III

ill

MAMELONS. , . j

lives still upon the lake which reaches north-
ward beyond knowledge. But he, longer
than her 'ife, had lived in the great house,
unless we assume that the late survey by Mr. Low is
to be regarded as a settlement of the matter -which
few, if any, acquainted with the Mistassinni question
would do. Having exammed all the data bearing on
the subject, I can but conclude that the bit of water
which Mr. Low said he surveyed was only a small arm
or branch of the lake reaching south from it. and tha.
the Great Mistassinni itself was never seen by Mr
Low, much less surveyed. Unless we concluded with
an ancient cynic that "All men are liars," then there
surely is a vast body of water known to the natives
as Big Mistassinni, lying in the wilderness several hun-
dreds of miles from Hudson's Bay, yet to be visiie.l
and surveyed by white men. Mista, in Indian dialect
means great, and sinni means a stone or rock. And
hence Mistassinni means the " Lake of Great Stone,
or Rocks." The Assinniboine, ,,r Rocky River, Indians
of the West were evidently of the same blood and Ian-
guage originally with these red men of the northern wilds

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152

MA MELONS.

a life-long guest, but serving it in his wild
fashion. Warring with Nasquapees and Moun-
taineers against the Esquimaux, he had been
overcome in ambush and in the centre of their
camp put to the torture. Grimly he stood
the test of fire, not making moan a' their
knives seamed him and the heated spear
points seared. Maddened, one pried his jaws
apart with edge of hatchet, and tore his
tongue out, saying, in devilish jest, " If (lica
wilt not talk, thou hast no need of this," and
ate it before his eyes. Then the Chief, with
twice a hundred braves, burst in upon them,
and whirled the hellish brood, in roaring
battle, out of the world. The Trapper,
plunging through whirring hatchets and red
spear points, sent the cursed fagots flying
that blazed upward to his bloody mouth and

■

j?_i —

Ji*.

MAMELONS.

153

SO saved him to the world. Crippled beyond
hope of leadership, he left his tribe, and,
toiling slowly through the woods, came to
the Chief in the great house and said, in the
quick language of silent signs : " I am no
longer chief — I cannot fight. Let me stay
here imtil I die." Thus came he, and so
stayed, keeping, through many years, the
larder full of game and fish. This wrinkled
withered man went with them, paddling his
birch slowly on, deep ladened with needed
stuffs and precious things for dress and orna-
ment at the marriage. For she said : '* I
will put on the raiment of my race when my
foremothers reigned o'er half the world, and
their banners, woven of cloth of gold, dark,
with an emerald island at the centre, waved
over ships which bore the trident at their

i54

MA MELONS.

[I (■

I *

bows, their sailors anchored under Mamclons
a thousand and a thousand years before Spain
sjDrang a mushroom from the old Iberian
mold. I will stand or fall forever, Queen at
Mamelons." So said she, and so meant. For
all her blood thrilled with the haughty cour-
age of that past, when fate was faced with
open, steady eyes, and the god Death, that
moderns tremble at, was met by men who
gazed into his gloomy orbs with haughty
stare as he came blackening on. So silently
the silent man went on in his light bark,
loaded with robes, heavy with flowered gold,
woven of old in looms whose soft movements,
going deftly to and fro, sound no more, leav-
ing no ripple as it went, steered by his
withered hands, down the black rivers of the
north, toward feast or funeral under Mamelons.

CHAPTER V.

AT MAMELONS.

OUMMER was at its hottest. The woods,
^^ sweltering under heavy heat, sweat odors
from every gummy pore. Flowers, unless
water-rooted, withered on their stalks. The
lumberino- moose came to the streams and
stayed. The hot hills drove him down. The
feathered mothers of the streams led down
their downy progeny to wider waters. The
days were hot as ovens and the nights dew-
less. The soft sky hardened and shone
brazen from pole to pole. The poplar leaves
shrank from their trcn\bling twigs and the

birches shriveled in the heat. But on the

155

■56

MAMF.LONS.

I !

il, <

I'i'

rivers the air was moist and cool, lily-sweet-
ened, and above their heads, at night, the yel-
low stars swung- in their courses like golden
globes, large, soft, and round. So the two
boats went on through lovely lakes, floating
slowly down the flowing rivers without hap
or hazard, till they came to the last portage,
beyond which flowed the Stygian' river, whose
gloomy tide flows out of death into bright
life at Mamelons.

The^ took the shortest trail. Straight up
it ran over the mighty ridge which down-
ward slopes on the far side, eastward to that

^ The waters of the S.iguenay are unlike those of
any other river known. They are a purple-brown, and,
looked at en masse, are, to the eye, almost black. This
peculiar color gives it a most gloomy and grewsomc look,
and serves to vastly deepen the profound impression as
other peculiar characteristics make upon the mind.

a i i 1.1

MA MELONS.

157

Strange bay men call Eternity. It was an
old trail only ran by runners who ran for
life and death when war blazed suddenly and
tribes were summoned in hot haste to rally.
But she was happy hearted, and, half jesting,
half in earnest, said : " Take the short trail.
My heart is like a bird flying long kept from
home. Let me go straight." So on the trail
the two men toiled all day, while she played
with the sands upon the shore and crowned
herself with lilies, saying: **The queens of
my old line loved lilies. I will have lily at
my throat when I am wed."

So, when night had come, the boats and all
their lading were on the other side, and they
were on the ridge, which sloped either way,
the sunset at their backs, the gloomy gorge
ahead. Then, pausing on the crest, swept

f i,n

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158

MAMELONS.

to its rocks by rasping winds, the sunset at
her back, the gloom before, she said : " Here
will we bivouac. The sky is dewless, and the
air is cool. The trail from this runs easy
down. I would start with sunrise on my
face toward Mamelons."

So was it done, and they made camp be-
neath the trees, a short walk from the ridge,
where the great spruce stood thickly, and a
spring boiled upward through the gravel, cold
as ice.

The evening passed like a sweet song
through dewy air. She was so full of health,
so richly gifted, so happy in her heart, so
nigh to wedded life with him she worshipped,
that her soul was full of joyousness, as the
lark's throat, soaring skyward, is of song.
She chattered like a magpie in many tongues,

MA MELONS.

159

translating rare old bits of foreign wit and
ancient mirth with apt and laughable grim-
aces. Her face was mobile, rounding with
jollity or lengthening with woe at will. She
had the light foot and the pliant limb, the
superb pose, abandon, and the languishing
repose of her old race, whose princesses, with
velvet feet, tinkling ankles, and forms volup-
tuous, lithe as snakes, danced before kings
and won kingdoms with applause from those
whom, by their wheeling, swaying, flashing
beauty, they made wild. She danced the
dances of the East, when dancing was a lan-
guage and a worship, with pantomime so rare
and eloquent that the pleased eye translated
every motion, as the ear catches the quick
speech. Then sang she the old songs of
buried days, sad, wild, and sweet as love sing-

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I 60

M^l MELONS.

ing at death's door to memory and to hope ;
the song of joys departed and of joys to
come. So passed the evening till the eastern
stars, wheeling upward, stood in the zenith.
Then with lingering lips she kissed her lover
on the mouth, and on her couch of fragrant
boughs fell fast asleep, forgetful of all things
but life and love ; murmuring softly in her
happy dreams, " To-morrow night," and after
a little space, again, " Sweet, sweet to-
morrow ! "

But all the long evening through, the old
tongueless chief of measureless Mistassinni
sat as an Indian sits when death is coming —
back straightened, face motionless, and eyes
fixed on vacancy. Not till the girl lay sleep-
ing on the boughs did he stir muscle. Then
he rose up, and with dilating nostrils tested

Af A MELONS.

I6l

the air, and his throat rattled. Then [)ut his
ear to earth, as man to wall, listening to the
voices running through the framework of the
world,' cast cones upon the dying brands,
and, standing in the light made by the gummy
rolls, said to the Trapper in dumb show:
" The dead are moving. The earth cracks
beneath the leaves. The old trail is filled
with warriors hurrying eastward out of death.
Their spears are slanted as when men fly.

* I have been often surprised at the many and strange
sounds which may at limes be heard by putting the ear
flat to the sod or to the bark of trees. lu'cn the sides of
rocks are not dumb, but often resonant with noises — of
running waters, probably — deep within. It would seem
that every formation of matter had, in some degree, the
characteristics of a whispering gallery, and that, were our
ears only acute enough, we might hear all sounds moving
in the world.

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MAMELONS.

They wave us downward toward the river.
Call her you love from dreamland and let
us go."

To which the Trapper, answering, signed :
'* Chief, old age is on you, and the memory
of old fights. Tis always so with you red
men.' The old fields stir you, and here upon
this ridge wt- fought your fight of rescue.
God ! what a rush we made ! The air was
full of hatchets as of acorns under shaken
oaks when I burst through. I kicked an old
skull under moss as we halted here, that she
might not sec it. It lies under that yellow
tuft. I have ears, and I tell you nothing

^ It is said tliat Indians cannot sleep upon a battle-
field, however old, because of superstitious fear. They
admit themselves that it is not well to do it, and always,
under one excuse or another, avoid doing so.

MAMELONS.

163

Stirs. It is your superstition, chief. Neither
living nor dead have passed to-night. A
man without cross knows better. I will wait
here till dawn. She said *I would see- sun-
rise in my face when I start for Mamelons,'
and she shall. I have said."

To this the chief, after pause, signed back :
" I have stood the test, and from the burn-
ing stake went beyond flesh. I have seen
the dead, and know them. I say the dead
have passed to-night. Even as she danced
her happy dances, and you laughed, I saw
them crowd the ridge and come, filing down-
ward. They fled with slanted spears. You
know the sign. It was a warning, and for
us and her. F'or, with the rest, heading the
line, there walked two chiefs whose bosoms
bore the Tortoise sign. I knew them. They

164

MA MELONS.

slanted spears at her, and waved us down ;
then glided on at speed. And others yet I
saw, not of my race — a woman floating in
the air, her mother, clothed as she shall be
to-morrow, and with her a long line of faces,
like to hers asleep, save eager looking, anx-
ious ; and they, too, waved us downward to-
ward the river. This is no riddle, Trapper.
It is plain. When do the dead move without
cause ? Awake your bride from dreams and
come down. Some fate is flying with flat
wings this way, I know not what. I only
know the dead have waved me toward water,
and I go."

So saying, he took the dark trail downward,
and in the darkness disappeared.

" The spell is on him," muttered the Trap-
per, as he sodded the brands, " and naught

MA MELONS.

165

may stop him. The old fool will do some
stumbling on the "trail before his moccasins
touch sand." And saying this, he gendy
kissed the sleeping girl, and taking her
small hand in his strong palm, he fell asleep ;
sleeping upon the crumbling edge of fate
and death, not knowing. Had he but known !
Then might wedding bells, not wail, have
sounded over Mamelons.

''Awake! awake! my God, the fire is on
uSy At/a!" so roared he, standing straight.

Up sprang she, quick as a flash, and stood
in the red light by his side, cool, collected,
while with swift, steady hands, she clothed
herself for flight. Then swept with haughty
glance the flaming ridge and said : ** The
light that lights my way to Mamelons, my

1 66

MA MELONS.

love, is hotter than sunrise ; but we may
head it." Then, with him, turned, and fled with
rapid, but sure, feet down the smoking trail.

The fire was that old one which burnt
itself into the memories of men so it became
a birthmark, and thus was handed down to
generations.' None knew how kindled. It
first flared westward of the shallow lake,
where Mistassinni empties its brown waters
from the north, and at the first flash flamed
to the sky. It is a mystery to this day, for
never did fire kindled in woods or grass run
as it ran. It raced a race of death with

^ It has been told me that many children born
after the terrible conflagration that had swept the
forest from west of Lake St. John to Chicoutimi, and
which ran a course of 150 miles in less than seven
hours, were marked, at birth, as with fire.

MAMELONS.

167

every living thing ahead of it, and won against
the swiftest foot of man or moose. The
whirring partridge, buzzing on for Hfe, tum-
bled, featherless, a lump of singed, palpitat-
ing flesh, into the ashes. The eagle, circling
a mile from earth, caught in the rising vor-
tex of hot air, shrunk like a feather touched
by heat, and, lessening as he dropped,
reached earth a cinder. The living were
cremated as they crouched in terror or fled
screamino-. The woods were hot as hell.
Trees, wet mosses, sodden mold, brooks,
springs, and even rivers, disappeared. Rocks
cracked like cannon overcharged. The face
of cliffs slid downward or fell off with
crashes like split thunder. It was a fire as
hot, as fierce, as those persistent flames
which melt the solid core of the world

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MAMELONS.

Downward they raced in equal flight. Her
foot was as the fawn's ; his stride like that
of moose. She bounded on. He swept
along, o'er all. They spake no word save
once. She slipped. He plucked her from
the ground, and said : " Brave one, we'll win
this race — speed on." She flashed a bright
look back to him and flew faster. Thus, over
boulders and round rocks, they sprang and
ran. Above, the flying sheets of flame ; be-
hind, the red consuming line ; around them,
the horrid crackling of shriveling leaves ;
ahead, the water, nigh to which they were ;
when, suddenly, they ran into blinding smoke
and lost the trail, and, tearing onward, with-
out sight, she fell and, striking a sharp rock,
lay still, numbed to weakness. The Trapper,
stumbling after, fell prone beside her, but

MAMELONS.

169

his strong frame stood the hard shock, and
staggered upward. He felt for her, and
found her Hmp. She knew his touch and
murmured faintly, with clear tones : ** Dear
love, stay not for me : go on and live. Atla
knows how to die."

He snatched her to his breast and through
his teeth, ** O God! have you no mercy f
then plunged onward, running slanting up-
ward, for the smoke was thick below, and
he knew the trees grew stunted on the cliffs.
He ran like madman. A saint running out
of hell might not run swifter. He was in
hell, the hell of fire; with heaven, the
heaven of cool, reviving water, just ahead.
The strength of ten was in him, and it sent
his body, with her body on his breast, onward
like a ball. His hair crimped to the black

170

MAMELONS.

roots of it. He felt it not. His skin blis-
tered on cheek and hands. He only strained
her closer to his bosom and tore on. With
garments blazing, he whirled onward up the
slope, streamed like a burning arrow along
the ridge which edges the monstrous rock
men call Cape Trinity, slid, tumbled, fell,
down its smoking slope, until he came to
where the awful front drops sheer; then,
heaving up his huge frame, still clasping
her sweet weight within strong arms, plunged,
like a burnt log rolling out of fire, into the
dark, deep, blessed tide.

Morn came, but brought no sunrise.
Smoke, black and dense, filled the great
gorge, and hung pulseless over the charred
mountains. Soot scummed the water levels.

MAMELONS,

171

and new brooks, flowing In new channels,
tasted like lye. Smells of a burnt world
filled the air. The nose shrank from breath,
and breathed expectant of offence. The fire
brought death to ten thousand living things,
and filled all the waste with stench of shal-
low graves, burnt skins, and smoldering bones.
The dead had saved the living, for the old
chief lived. From the red beach he saw the
Trapper's race for life along the smoking
ridge, and paddled quick to where he made
his awful, headlong plunge into Eternity.'
From the deep depths he rose, like a dead
fish to surface, his breath beaten out of him,
but clasping still in tight arms the muffled

* The recess of water curving inward toward the
mountains between Cape Trinity and Eternity is called
Eternity Bay.

172

MAMELONS,

t
1

form. His tongucless savior — so paying life
with life, the old debt wiped out at last —
towed him to shore and on the beach revived
him with rude skill persistent. He came to
sense with violence, torn convulsively. His
soul woke facing backward, living past life
again. To feet he sprang at his first breath,
and cried: ''Atvahel awake! my God, the
fire is on us, AtlaV then plucked her from
the sand where she lay, weak, as a wilted
flower, and started with a bound to fly. The
touch of her bent form, drooping in his arms,
recalled his soul to sense, and he knew all,
and reeled with the woe of it. Down at the
water's edge he sank, cast covering cloth from
head and hands, bathed her dark face, and
murmured loving words to her still soul.
Through realms and spaces of deep trance

MA MELONS.

173

her spirit, lingering in dim void 'twixt life
and death, heard love's call, and struggled
back toward the shore of life and sense.
From pulseless breast her soul clomb up,
pushed the fringed lids apart, and gazed,
through wide eyes of sweet surprise, upon
his worshiped face : then sank, leaving a
smile upon her lips, within the safe inclosure
of deep sleep. All day she slept within his
arms. All night she slumbered on. Wisely
he waited, saying: ''Sleep to the overtaxed
means life. It is the only medicine, and sure.
In sleep the wearied find new selves."

But when the second morning after starless
night came to the world, she felt the waking
gray of it upon her lids, and, stirring in his
arms, like wounded bird in nest, moved mouth
and opened eyes, and gazed slowly round, as

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174

MA MELONS.

seeking knowledge of place and time and cir^
cumstance. Then memory came, and she re-
membered all, and sofdy said, " Art thou
alive, dear love ? I have been with the dead.
The dead were very kind, but oh, I missed
you so," and with soft hand she stroked his
face caressingly. The old chief mutely stood,
watching, with gloomy eyes, the sad sight.
He read the motion of her lips, and in his
tongueless throat there grew a moan, and
his dry lids wet themselves with tears. She
noticed him and said : ** You, too, alive, old
servitor ! The gods are strict, but merciful.
Two of the three remain. The one alone
must go. So is it well." Then to her wor-
shiped one : " Dear love, this is a gloomy
place. Let us go on. The smoke hides the
bright world. I long for light. The fate is

MAMELONS.

175

not yet sure. The blood of our old race
holds tightly to last chance. We face it out
with death to the last throb. Then yield, not
sooner. Who knows? I may find sunrise
yet at Mamelons."

So was it done.

They placed her on soft skins within the
boat facing him who steered, for she said :
** Dear love, the dead see not the living. If
I go I may not see you evermore. So let
me look on your dear face while yet I may.
To-day is mine. To-morrow — I know not
who may own to-morrow."

Thus, he at stern and she at stem, softly
placed on the piled skins, her dark eyes on
his face, they glided out of the deep bay,
round the gray base of the dread cape that
stands eternal, and floated downward with the

■i'l

V' '

1^'

I''

176

MAMELONS.

black ebb toward the sea. Past islands and
through channels intricate, they went in si-
lence, until they came to where the Margue-
rite, with tuneful mouth, runs singing over
shining sands, pouring out into dark Sague-
nay, as life pours into death ; then breathed
they freer airs, and the freshness of untainted
winds fell sweetly down upon them from over-
hanging hills, and thus she spake :

"Dear love, I know not what may be. We
mortals are not sure of anything. The end
of sense is that of knowledge. We know we
live forever. For so our pride compels, and
some have seen the dead moving. But under
what conditions we do live beyond, we know
not. Hence hate I death. It is an interrup-
tion and a stoppage of plans and joys which
work and flow in sequence ; severs us from

MAMELOAS.

177

loved connections ; for the certain gives us
the uncertain, and in place of solid substantial
facts forces us to build our future lives on the
unfixed and changeful foundations of hopes
and dreams. It is not moral state that puz-
zles. We of the old race never worried over
that. For we knew if we were sfood enouofh
to live here, and once, then we were good
enough to live elsewhere and forever ; but it
was the nature of existence, its environment,
and the connections growing out of these that
filled the race whose child I am with dread
and dole. For all the women of my race
loved with great loves — the loves of lovers
who sublimated life in loving, and knew no
higher and no holier, nor cared to know. We
cast all on that one chance ; winningr all in
winning, and losing all if we lost, With me

S— -

4): 1

178

MAMELONS.

it is the same. I love you with a love that
maketh life. I am a slave to it. It is my
strength or weakness, as has been with the
women of my blood from the beginning. I
have no other creed, nor faith nor hope. To-
day I see thee, and I have. To-morrow whom
shall I see ? The dead ? I care not for the
dead. There is not one among them I may
love, for loving thee has cut me off from
loving other one forever; unless the alchemy
of death works back the creative process, un-
doing all of blood and nature, and sends us
into nothingness, then brings us forth by new
processes foreign to what we were, and wholly
different from our old selves, which is a con-
summation horrible to think of."

" Nay, nay," exclaimed the Trapper. " Such
cannot be. Our loves, if they be large and

MA MELONS.

179

whole, grow with us, and with our lives live
on forever."

•' It may be so, dear love," replied the girl.
" Love's prophecy should be true as sweet, or
else your sacred books are vain. For in them
it is written, ' Love is of God.' But oh, how
shall I find thee in that other world? For
wide and dim must strc^tch its spaces, and
vast must be its intervals. This earth is
small. We who live on it, few. Within the
circle of three generations all living stand.
But the dead are many. The sands of Mam-
elons are not so numberless. They totalize
the ages ; the land they dwell in beyond mor-
tal compass. Who may be sure of meeting
any one in such a realm ? At what point
on its boundaries shall I wait and watch?
How signal thee, by hand or voice, when out

i8o

MA MELONS.

of earth, like feather, blown, by that strange
movement men call death, into the endless
distances, thou comest suddenly. Alas ! alas !
I know not if beyond this day, I, going out
of this dear sunlight, may ever and forever
look upon thy face again!"

" Atla," returned the Trapper, " I know not
what may be. But this I know and swear,
that if a trail pushed, seeking, through a
thousand or ten thousand years, may brinjy
me to thy side, we two shall meet in heaven."

" Oh, love, say those sweet words again,"
she cried. *' Say more than them. Crowd
into this one day, that I am sure of, the vows
and loves of half a life, that I may go, if go
I must, out of thy sight from Mamelons,
heartful, upheld by an immortal hope. And
here I pledge thee, by the Sacred Fire that

MA MELONS.

l8l

burns forever, that if power bestowed by na-
ture, or artfully acquired by patience working
through ten thousand years, may find thee
after death, then some time will I find my
heaven in thy arms, not found till then. So,
now, in holy covenant we will rest until we
come to Mamelons, and ever after. I feel
the breeze of wider water on my cheek, and
breathe the salted air. I shall know soon if
ever sunrise shine for me at Mamelons."

So went they down in silence with the tide
that whirled itself in eddies toward the sea;
past L'Anse a I'Eau, where now the salmon
swim and spawn against their will,' past the

* At L'Anse a I'Eau, where the Saguenay steamers
land passengers for Tadousac, the tourist will find a fine
collection of large salmon at the upper end of the little
bay or recess, for here is one of the salmon-hatching
stations under government patronage.

l82

MAMELONS,

sharp point of rounded rocks, where spor-
tively the white whales ' roll, and, steering
straight across the harbor's mouth, where her
Basque fathers anchored ships before the
years of men,' ran boat ashore where the
great ledge runs, sloping down from upper
sand to water, and shining beach and gray
rock meet.

But as they crossed the harbor's mouth,

* The white whales, commonly called porpoises, are
very plentiful at the mouth of the Saguenay, and to a
stranger present a very novel and entertaining spectacle
tumbling in the black water. They are hunted by the
natives for both their skins and oil.

^ Personally, I hold to the opinion that the eastern
hemisphere never lost its knowledge of the western, but
that from immemorial times, the Basques and their Iberian
ancestors visited at regular intervals the St. Lawrence,
both gulf and river. Of course, the grounds on which
I base such an opinion cannot be presented in this note.

MAMELONS,

183

sailing straight on abreast of Mamelons, its
bright sands blackened and a shadow dark-
ened on its front, and, as they bore her ten-
derly to the terrace, where stood tent and
priest, a tremor shook the quivering earth,
and through the darkening air a wave of
thunder rolled.

"■ Dear love," she said, " it may not be.
The fate still holds. The doom works out
its dole. I may not be thy wife this side
grave. What rights I have beyond I shall
know soon. For soon the sight' will come

J It is held by some that certain families have the
power of "second sight," or to look into the future,
come to them just before death. I have known cases
where such power, apparently, did come to the dying.
The Basque people held strongly to the belief that all of
their kingly line were seers or prophets, and that, especially
before dying, each had a full, clear view of the future.

^^i^^|M^^^^^M^^^I[^^Sia*Bfi^

■

184

MAMELONS.

to me, and what is hidden now will stand out
plain." Then, lying on the skins, she gazed at
Mamelons, looming vast and black in shadow,
and, closing eyes, she prayed unto the gods,
the carthborn, old-time fathers of her race.

But he could not have it so, and when
prayer was ended said : •* Atla, we have come
far for marriage rite, and married we will be.
Thou art mistaken. I have seen shadow
settle and heard thunder roll before. In eye
nor cheek are death's pale signals set. The
holy mail i:; here. Here ring and seal. For-
<>-ct the doom, and let the words be read that
bindeth to the grave."

To this she answering said: "Dear love,
thou art in error, but thy word is law. My
stay is brief. When yonder shadow passes I
There sleeps my father, and with

;

pass.

MAMELONS.

1^5

him I must sleep. The earth is conscious.
I am of those who were, earthborn, and so
she feels our coming and our going as mother
feels life and death of child. The sun is on
the western hills. At sunset ! shall die. But
if it may stay up thy soul through the sad
years, bid the good man go on."

Then took the priest his book, and, in the
language of the Latins, so old to us, so new
beside her tongue, whose literature was dead
a thousand years before Rome was, began to
bind, by the manufactured custom of modern
men, whose binding is of law and not of love,
and hence a mockery. But ere he came to
that sweet fragment of love's law and faith,
stolen from the past, the giving and receiving
of a ring, symbol of eternity, she suddenly
lifted hand and said:

1 86

MA MELONS.

€.

It;

hili

fel'

ii '

" Have done ! Have done ! No need of
marriage now. No need of rite, nor prayer,
nor endless ring, nor seal of sacred sign. I
see what is to be. The veil is lifted and I
see beyond. I see the millions of my race
lift over Mamelons. They come as come the
seas toward shore, rolling in countless billows
from central ocean. The old Iberian race,
millions on millions, landscapes of moving
forms, aligned with the horizon, come, m:. rob-
ing on. Among them, lifted high, the gods.
On thrones a thousand queens sit regnant,
raimented like me. Their voice is as the
sound of many waters : —

" * Last, best, and highest over all, we place
thee.'

"The gods say so? So be it, then. Mother,
I have kept charge. My love has won him.

S'5

MA MELONS,

187

The old race stops, but by no fault of mine.
My people, this man is lord and king to me.
See that ye bring him to my throne when he
comes seeking to the West. Dear love, you
will excuse me now. I must pass on ; but
passing on I leave my soul with thee. Make
grave for me on Mamelons. Put lily at my
throat, green boughs on breast, bright sand
on boughs. Watch with me there one night.
I will be there with thee. So keep with Ada
holy tryst one night and only one — then go
thy way. We two will have sweet meeting
after many days." And saying this she put
soft hand in his and died.

Her lover, kneeling by her couch, put face
to her cold cheek, nor stirred. The holy man
said sofdy holy prayer ; while the old tongue-
less chief of Mistassinni wrapped head in

1 88

MA MELONS.

fin.-j

blanket, and through the Icng night sat as
one dead

Next day the silent man made silent grave
on Mamelons. At sunset they brought her
to it, raimented like a queen, and laid her
body in bright sand ; put lily at her throat,
green boughs on peaceful breast, and slowly
sifted clean sand over all.

That night a lonely man sat by a lonely
grave, through the long watches keeping holy
tryst. But when the sun came up, rising out
of mists which whitened over Anticosti, he
rose, and, standing with bared head, he
said :

" Atla,' we two will have sweet meet-

^ I named my heroine Atla, because I hold that the
r)asques not only are descendants of the old Iberians,
but that the Iberians were a colony from Atlantis. I

) ti

. i %■

MAMELOAS,

1 89

ing after many days." Then went his

way.

And there, on that high crest, whose sands

accept fully Ignatius Donelly's conclusions as to the
actual old-time existence of a great island continent
in the Atlantic Ocean, and believe that in it the human
race began and developed a civilization inconceivably
perfect and splendid, of which the Egyptian, Peruvian,
Iberian, and Mexican were only colonial repetitions.
Atla is, therefore, the proper name for the last of the
old Basque-Iberian blood to have, as it is the root of
Atlantis (Atla-ntis), the original motherland of all. I
have never met Mr. Donelly, and may never meet him,
and hence I make this opportunity to express the obli-
gation I am under to him for entertainment and profit.
The patience of the scholarship that could accumulate
the material for a book like his " Atlantis " is worthy
of a wider and more grateful acknowledgment than
this superficial age of ours is able to give, for it cannot
appreciate it. No man with any pretensions of schol-
arly attainments can afford to lot " AtlajUis " go unread.

''I

1^ .

igo

MAMELONS.

first saw the sunrise of the world, when sang
the stars of morning, beyond dopm and fate,
at last, the child of the old race, which
lived in the beginning, sweetly sleeps at
Mamelons.

UNGAVA

A COMPANION IDYL OF MAMELONS

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To HER who has learned with me and from me the lore of
woods and waters, the myths of ancient folk and the tra-
ditions of races now no more ; who wrote the words here
printed as my thought formed them and whose pleasure
in the growing sentences made my pleasure in composing
them; to whose faith and help I owe so much and of
them may tell so little ; to my adopted daughter,

Jf* JHarcjuertta JEurrag,

as a tribute and testimony I inscribe Ungava.

The Author.
Burlington, Vt., 1S90.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

L-

II.-

III.-

IV.-

V.-

VI.
VII.-
VIII.
IX.

• After Mamelons

■ The Coming of Ungava . . .

-Ungava's Love

-The Wizard of the North . .

-The Conjurer's Account of the
SIS OF the World ....

The White God of Mistassinni
The Council of the Chiefs
Duel o)? the Old Dumb Chiefs
• The Fairies' Farewell to Ungava .

PAGE

7
33
48

116

137
156
181

II i

UNCAVA.

A COMPANION IDYL OF MAMELONS.

CHAPTER I.

AFTER MAMELONS.'

'T^HUS did the Doom of Mamelons work
out its dole. And leaving in her grave
the joy of all his life, the fairest, sweetest
woman of her race, — whose women were the
glory of the world, — down from the Mound
of Fate the Trapper came with heavy step and

* Ungava is not in the true sense a sequel of " The
Doom of Mamelons," for that tale stands complete in
itself. Nevertheless, the two are closely connected, and
structurally united in a close companionship, as two
of the principal characters in Mamelons — the trapper

C/JVGA FA.

slow, as one who bears a burden greater than
his strength, to where the tongueless Chief
of Mistassinni stood beside his bark, his
silent paddle in his hand, and to him biowly
said :

"Old friend, in yonder sand my love lies
dead. You helped me lay her lovely body
down, where it must lie beyond the reach of
loving hands forever. There, as she bade,
I have kept holy tryst one night. She met
me there. To that high crest where first the
world was born, from silence and from star-
light she came down and stood beside me.
I saw her clothed in raiment like a queen,

and the old chief of Mistassinni — are leading ones
in this story, and in it are necessarily many allusions
which are more plain and enjoyable to the reader if he
has previously read Mamelons.

H I

UNGA VA.

and all her beauty riper grown stood stately
in her form, and shone resplendent out of face
and eye. She told me things to be. And,
as she talked, I heard the stir of thousands
round her, and through the starlit air above
the sands approving murmurs run; but long
and lonely stretch the years 'twixt this and
hour of meeting. Empty are my arms of
that warm life that should be nesding in
them, and empty all the world. With eyes
uplifted unto mine, upon my breast her
mother died. The chief I loved is dead.
And now she, too, is gone, and with her took
in going all the sunshine of the world. You,
now, and I are left alone. Two silent
ones, for you are tongueless, and I with
grief am dumb. We two are joined in
brotherhood of woe. So in this bark of

UNGA VA.

thine will you and I take seat, and you with
silent blade shall steer it upward on the
flooding tide of death-dark water,' colored
like our grief, between the awful cliffs,
which, leafless as our lives will be, have
stood in dead, gray barrenness from the
foundation of the world. So, now, old friend,
from this dread shore of Fate push off, and
we will go, I know not whither and I care
not where. We two alone are left, and till
death parts us will we bide together."

So was it done. Slowly, without word or

^ The waters of the Saguenay are dark and gloomy
to a degree unknown in any other river or body of
water I have ever seen, and are noted, tne world over,
because of their peculiar sombre and sinister appearance.
Looked at from above, they often seem to be as black as
ink.

■1

UNGA VA,

I I

sign, the old chief lifted paddle and silendy
the light boat moved from that dread shore
which for a thousand years had been the
shore of fate, and through the whirling eddicts,
whirling strongly up and on the flooding
waters black as their grief between die
monstrous walls of rock the silent two went
floating up Into the silence of unknown hap
and hazard.

All day they drifted on in silence, until
they came to where the Marguerite flows
crystal over shining sands. Then the dumb
helmsman steered his light bark inward
through the current, flowing swift and clear.
With skilful stroke he pushed it upward
through the eddying tide until he reached that
lovely bend where silver birches grow, and

V-

UNGA VA.

where a spring pours down its wimpling line
of liquid music, singing dirough die grasses,
until it, laughing, runs into the smiling river.
Then, standing on the strand, he to his stricken
comrade said : '

^ The reader must bear in mind that the language of
pantomime, or sign language, has been brought to a
wonderful perfection as a means of communicating
thought among the Indians of this continent. The
ancient Greeks, as is known to all scholars, found it
adequate for the purpose of full dramatic expression,
whether of comedy or tragedy. They did not originate
it, but borrowed it from older races and ages. The read-
ing of the motion of the lips is also an ancient accom-
plishment, if such a word is allowable in connection
with such an art or practice. Nor is it nearly as difficult
as one might imagine to follow the pantomimist, and
catch the sense of even subtle shades of expression.
Somv, have thought that it is the earliest, as it certainly
is the most vivid and picturesque, method of imparting
human thought.

UNGAVA.

•* Listen, Tiapper, to wisdom born of losses
many and of many years. At Mamelons your
love lies dead. Your thoiiorhts are heavy and
your heart is sore. The wounds of death are
deep. Time is the only balm that heals its
hurts, and change. These two salve all and
heal at last, if ever. The island is no place
for you or me. There sleeps her mother and
there sleeps the chief. The house is empty as
a nest when birds have flown and under snow
the bough droops down. There will thy grief
keep fresh and sore. Its ache will grow as
grows thy sense of loss. Here will we camp
to-night, and on the morrow northward will
we go to far Ungava.' Upon its sands and

1 Ungava is the name of a large bay which runs
deeply into the body of the continent near the north-
east corner of the Labrador peninsula. It is remarkable

UNGA VA.

Si * l'

ice, in distant years, I fought and hunted.
There, perchance, I may find some, who,
scarred in those old fights and gray, remember
me. If not, it is the same. Among the
Nasquapees is one who knoweth all. He can
call up the dead.' His eyes see backward
and before. There is but one thing I would
know. It may be he can tell it me. Here
will we sleep to-night. Perchance in sleep

because of its extraordinary tides, which rise to the
height of sixty feet and more. Around it, formerly, the
famous tribe of Nasquapee Indians — if they be Indians
— had their home. Of these remarkable people I have
spoken in my note concerning them in Mamelons.

^ This is an allusion to a famous prophet or high
priest of the tribe, who, apparently, was the last of a
long line of prophets, who claimed to have powers such
as the Witch of Endor possessed and exercised, when, if
our Old Scriptures are to be credited, she called up the
spirit of Samuel from the dead.

til.

UNGA VA.

some dream ' may come. If not forbid, to-
morrow northward we will go."

To which the Trapper :

" Old Chief, your years are many and your
words are wise. The wounds of death are
deep, and time and change and God's sure
help can only heal. The island is an empty
nest. The fairest and the sweetest bird these
northern woods may ever know, has flown.
She has found summer land. She will come
back no more. The island is the home of
graves. Some things are there for me to do.
But they can wait. His kinsmen watch the

^ As is well known, the Indian is a firm believer in
dreams as a method of mystic and valuable communica-
tion. From this old-time superstition no reasoning can
turn him. He sincerely believes that the Great Spirit
speaks directly to him in his sleep by their agency.

■i t

[/JVGAyA.

house, and they are true. When out of years
I have, by many sights and deeds and varying
haps, carved calmness, and been strengthened,
I will go back. I will not go till then. I, too,
have seen Ungava, and have fought upon its
sands, and stumbled on its blocks of ice, blood-
wet. I will go north with thee, and hear again
the roaring of its tides, and hunt the seals be-
neath the fires that burn the end of the world.'
It may be that in action swift my soul will find
its rest, and out of changeful chance forgetful-
ness will come, and scab the gash of grief now
bleeding red, and scar it to dull pain. We

* The northern Indians will gravely inform you that
what we call the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights,
are the reflection of flames which ever and anon rush
out from the end of the world, which they hold to be
forever in a state of combustion.

)

UNGAVA. iy

will go north, and bide together till we die."
So was it done.

So went they northward, and for half a year
did widely roam. Strange fortunes fell to
them. They passed the sources of the streams
that flow toward the south. They saw the
forests dwindle down until the mighty pine was
but a shrub. They visited old fields, where,
in forgotten years old fights had been, whose
only record was scattered and white bones.
They made them bags of eider,' and housed
themselves in snow. They trapped them furs
which gave them garments such as princes
wear. They fed on meat of fish and fowl and
animal, juicy and fat, cooked with a hunter's
art. For bread they digged them roots, which,

1 The Nasquapee Indians sleep in bags lined with
eider-down.

) !

'I !

:; i

■I i

s : {'

C/JVGA VA.

deftly parched and pounded, yielded substance
sweeter than the wheaten loaf. So roamed
they through the north, through those wild
wastes where trails are scarce as honor among
men. One, seeking day and chance, if
they still waited; the other, balm for wounds
within, and I'i t forgetfulness which dulls the
edge of paiii ana makes it easier to be borne.
So leisurely t! ^y lisw their trail into the
north as men who seek at random, or seek
forgetfulness of selves : — that sweet oblivion
or dim memory of woes.

So roamed they on. One night they camped
beneath a hill, one of a range that stretched
a hundred miles from east to west : a ridge
of mighty bowlders, meteoric stones and rocks
volcanic, treeless, soilless, a monstrous jumble
of chaotic debris that might be monument

l/NGAVA.

above a ruined world.' There in wild laby-
rinth of desolation they made their bivouac.
Before they slept, the old chief, standing in
the camp-light, signed:

"Trapper, some evil fate is coming swift
as death. Twice on the trail to-day I felt
the ledges shake.^ I hear the sound of run-
ning noises under ground. The fire to-night

* Nothing can be imagined more desolate and dismal
than this section of the Labrador peninsula. If Ignatius
Donnelly's theory is correct, that a comet once struck
the earth near what is now the northern extremity of
the globe, one might easily imagine that, west and north
of Ungava, he was standing amid the ruins caused by
the awful catastrophe.

^ Earthquake shocks are not infrequent throughout
this section. Some years the seismic disturbances are
felt for months together, and scarcely a year passes that
one or more shocks are not experienced,

UNGAVA.

^ I

■y

If""!

burned blue, and talked. I smell a storm.^
This is a wilderness of rocks. There is no
trail. If sun should fail what eye might
thread a passage through? I fear some fate
is coming. What counsel do you give?"
To which the Trapper made reply :
*• Chief, lie down and sleep. The stars are
bright. The sky is blue. No storm is com-
ing. If it comes, we will bide in our bags.
Two days at most will blow it out. Our food
will last till sun comes lorth. The rocks are

* Even many white hunters I have met in my wander-
ings have boldly claimed that the coming of great
atmospheric disturbances was plainly interpreted by
the nose. May it not be possible that the organs of
smell, like those of sight, are much more acute in those
who are " lone hermits of untainted woods " than in
us who live from day of birth in smoky anci foul
atmospheres "i

UNGA VA.

jumbled, and all look alike. Who cares? We
are not boys. Can you and I lose trail ?
That were a joke. Your nose is not a
hound's. No storm is coming. Lie down
and sleep. Let ledges shake. Unless they
shake me out of bag, I will sleep on." So
spake he lighdy, and, muttering in his throat,
the old chief crept into his eider nest, and,
like a duck within its warmth of feathers
the two men slept.

That night the dreaded storm came down
and such a storm no man had ever seen in
all the North. Nine days it blew. Nine
nights its roar was on the hills of rocks
piled high as broken trees. Nine sunless
mornings came. The falling fleece turned
darkest night to gray. From out the north
chaotic whirlwinds rushed, whirling in scream-

UNGA VA.

: I

Ing eddies onward. The upper stillness, which,
woven by the gods in silent looms, is folded
like a downy mantle round the world as vest-
ment cast by slumber over weary beds, was
torn in shrieking shreds and blown down the
gale in strips of noise. The forest, like a man
entombed alive, moaned, writhed, and roared,
unseen. Hills into distance ran from sight.
The streams stopped running and the lakes
lay shivering, dumb and black, beneath the
ice that was itself invisible. The world turned
gray, and through the whirling, eddying fleece
the lenses of the eye reflected only falling
flakes. Chaos had come again and all the
earth was without form and void.

Amid the storm whose fury blotted out the
world, the two men, blinded, faint from hun-
ger, wandered on. Each day they groped for

:l ,

UNGA VA,

shelter ; each night, burrowed under snow,
awaiting- death. All skill was vain ; all cour-
acre useless. They felt that they were doomed.
Twice had the chief refused to move. Twice
had he fixed his eyes on vacancy. And twice
the death-song struggled in his tongueless
throat. The Trapper would not yield. His
heart was true as tested steel to bravest hand.
It would not break nor bow to shock, how-
ever heavy. Twice had he rallied his old
friend from trance for further effort, when,
staggering onward round the sharp edge of
a ledge, they slipped together and both fell
throup-h coverinof snow into a fissure yawn-
ing wide, and downward half a hundred feet
they slid into a mighty cavern !
■ So, into shelter under ground, through God's
mercy, had they dropped, when, blinded by the

UNGA VA.

Storm, and huni^cr-faint, they stumbled from
the cHff and fell. The cli^, a rounded bowlder
nicely poised, had lost its balance as they fell,
and, rolling after, lay on the shute through
which they slid, huge and heavy as a hill.

Then spake the Trapper, as he staggered to
his feet, grimly jesting in the face of death :

*' Here are we safely housed, old friend, at
last ! Never did mongrel cur, chased by she-
wolf, skurry into kennel fasten I fell with
legs so wide apart that all the hillside fol-
lowed. Its cobbles pelted on my back as I
slid downward. I'll strike a light and see if
we have host to welcome lodgers."

Then he struck light and to the wick of a
short candle placed it ; and as it kindled into
blaze he held it high above his head and in
the light it gave the two men sought with

I i;

UNGA VA,

earnest eyes the nature of the place, aiul
whether it were home or grave.

It was an old-time cave. Home had it
been and grave, for those whose deeds and
death are prehistoric. In ages lost to memory
of men, man had been there before. Fleeing
from sudden heat that blasted, or dreadful cold
succeeding heat, or from that awful monster'

1 Many tribes of Red Men have among them the
legend of a great catastrophe caused by a comet strik-
ing the earth. The story or myth of a "flying dragon,
breathing fire and smoke," is found in all old literatures,
and always connected with a vast ruin wrought on the
earth. There is no reason, in the nature of things, why
a collision should not occur between the earth and one
of the many "monstrous and lawless wanderers of the
skies." Nor is it inconceivable that such a collision in
the remote past did occur. Assuming this to be true,
many remarkable and now mysterious phenomena on the
earth's surface could be easily explained. Kepler de-

«S.,'

UNGA VA.

(■ 1

bursting out of distance into northern sky,
nieh where the steadfast star now sentinels
the heavens, and breathing fires in volume
wider than the world, rushed, tearing down-
ward toward the pole, struck the even earth
head on and knocked it from its level poise,
changing its course forever, so burying all in

il ^ :

li- '

clared that " comets are scattered through the heavens
with as much profusion as fishes in the ocean." Lalande
had a list of seven hundred comets observed in his time.
Arago estimated that the comets belonging to the solar
system, within the orbit of Neptune, number seventeen
and a half millions. While Lambert says five hundred
viiliions are a very moderate esti:iiate. And this, be it
remembered, does not include those that are constantly
pouring in from the infinite spaces beyond the limits of
the solar system. When the multitude of the comets is
considered, the wonder is, not that one has struck the
earth, but rather that, if I may so speak, the earth has
managed to dodge them at all 1

UNGAVA.

ruin : — hither to this deep cavern had he with
hi:i children wildly run, and, screaming, plunged
into it, as men to-day running out' of fire with
garments blazing plunge headlong into saving
wells.

There had he lived, there fed his hunger,
worshipped God, wrought with his hands —
and died. For, scattered here and there, were
ins-truments of stone : a hatchet, flint heads for
spears, and arrows sharpened with laborious
pains. Brands, too, were there, which once
had glowed with fire for human need, — charred
proofs of tribes and primal things, which any
careless foot may spurn as worthless, and yet
be older than the Pyramids. Amid the dust
the foot disturbed were teeth of men and
animals that lived in the forofotten aeres.
Searching through an inner passage, seeking

UNGA VA.

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■I )i

outlet, the Trapper found a knife of bronze
lying on the floor, its handle resting in the
dusty outline of a human hand, and wondered
if the breast that felt it last had been of priest
or victim. Who might say ? Who, who might
ever tell the secrets of that dread place and
symbol ? Here, penned with death, for many
days they groped and sat in gloom. At last

the Trapper, feeling that death was nigh, said
suddenly, " Old friend, our time to say farewell
has come." Then, for the last time lighted he
the feeble wick, and, as it warmed, the small
flame slowly grew until it globed with yellow
light the central gloom. Then rose the chief
of Mistassinni, cast robe of fur aside, and,
grim, gray and withered, stood forth to sight,
and to the Trapper signed :

"Trapper, we die a death of shame. We

UNGAVA.

are not men. We are as hedgehogs in a
hole, shut in by ice. Here shall we die and
rot, and be no more forever, — never see light
of day, nor breathe the upper air. I am a
chief. Before the Esquimau tore out my
tongue and ate it, my voice was heard in
every battle fought through all the North, and
where it sounded men knew Death was there,
and shrank. Only the Chief' and you had
fame so great. In feasts and dance, and when
the stake ^ was struck, our names were linked
together like three equal stars, and mothers
of the Esquimaux hushed crying child with
whispered mention of our awful fame. But

^ Referring to the chief who was uncle to Atla. [See
Mamelons.]

^ The stake around which the war dance is danced,
and into which each warrior strikes his hatchet, thus
signifying his enlistment for the war.

I '.!'*

':''§

[/NGA VA.

dying here like starving hog in hole, I never
more may see the lodges of my tribe ' nor
sit in council with the chiefs among whom I
am greatest. The battle will be set, and he
I hate will live. And younger men will
never know my fame. Do for me one more
deed, far better than that one you did for
me upon the ridge above the Saguenay when
you did save me from the Esquimaux, and
prove your love again. Draw now thy knife,
and place its point betwixt the ribs that are
above my heart, that I may lean upon it and
die as warrior dies in battle under foeman's
knife, and not be smothered like a hog in
hole."

^ An Indian believes that if he is smothered under-
ground, his spirit will remain buried with his body, and
never reach the Spirit-land, viz., that he will miss the
blessing of immortality.

UNGA VA.

And from his shrunken shoulders, haughtily,
his blanket did he cast, and posed himself
above the burning wick whose dying flame
began to waver, that friendship might do for
him the deed he prayed for.

Then said the Trapper, speaking through
the failing flashes of the light:

** Never before, old Chief, did friend in
dying ask deed of me I did not do. But
this I may not. I may not redden knife of
mine with thy old blood. I am a man without
a cross,' and such a deed I am forbid. It is
not fit. Your superstition is not true. Out
of this cavern filled with old-time bones, we
two will go at death into free air : thou to
the lodges of thy tribe ; I to her throne.^*

* A pure-blooded white.

^ Referring to liis joining at death his beloved Atla,

UNGA VA.

Hunger has done its work, and we are weak.
We will lie down and sleep as after battle,
battle-tired. Sleeping, we soon shall pass
to deeper sleep, and so to happy waking.
Old friend, the light is going. Brief is our
parting. Look. With this failing flash I give
thee dying cheer, and bid thee long farewell."
And with the word the light went out, and
in the gloom of that old grave of prehistoric
man the two men stood, lost to each other's
sight forever.

who, in dying [see Mamelons], beheld herself elected
by the gods to sit on the " last and highest throne of her
old race."

H il

CHAPTER II.

Oil

THE COMING OF UNGAVA.

SO Stood the two in darkness and in
silence, waiting death. The one with
Indian patience grim and dumb; the other,
brave, high-hearted, revolving many thoughts.
When, suddenly, the pulseless air moved with
vibrations. The awful silence grew sweedy
vocal, and a voice, clear-toned as silver bell or
flute, said, from afar:

"Who speaks of dying and of shameful
death? Whose voice bids friend the long
farewell, and gives him dying cheer? No
death is here, nor dying. Ungava comes ! "

And in the distant gloom, far down the cav-

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UNGA VA.

erned corridor, shone out a star, pure white,
intense, ilkiminating all, and in its dazzling
radiance, clothed in white fur from head to
foot, a wand within her hand uplifted high
whose point burned unconsumed, with face
of snow, and eyes and hair of night's jet hue,
floating on as vision seen in dream, there
came — a girl !

So in the white light stood the three, and
on the one the two did gaze with eyes that
grew with wonder. No greater change might
there have been had anofel of the Lord
descended to that cave to summon dust and
bone of dead humanity to glorious resurrec-
tion. Then", rallying from first shock of vast
surprise, the Trapper awe-struck said :

" Shadow or substance. Spirit or flesh. I
know not which, strange vision, but by the

•HK-.^^W^'t**?*-

UNGA VA.

living God I know that never unto man in
deeper need did he send saving angel. Who
art thou, thou who bearest name of wildest
shore on the round earth, and of what world ?
Speak message out, and tell thy tale; for
whether I be quick or dead, I know not as
I look on thee."

Then, clear as bell or flute in evening air
of summer, came the words, filling all the
cave with sweetness like a song sung by
unseen singer :

"John Norton, thou art known to me, for
I have seen thee when a thousand miles
divided. Amid the smoke of battle have I
seen thee move when death went with thee,
step for step. Asleep, at night, beneath the
pines or at the base of rocks in strange wild
places in the woods, above thee, sleeping, have

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UNO A VA.

I Stood and warded evil from thee. Wild
beasts and wilder men with nose of hunger
and with eyes of hate, have I turned or fright-
ened from thy couch, and in the morning thou
didst wake refreshed and safe,, as one who
knows not he is guarded. I am a spirit.
This mortal frame I use, but am not of it. I
am thy angel. Before his face that is forever
veiled, I stand forever pleading. For every
soul born into flesh has guardian spirit. Thine
am I, and I have come in hour of need to
save. Great service do I thee. Great service
must thou do in turn for me. Here hast
thou wandered into realms where, mid the
ruins of a world collapsed, the arts and
mysteries of that ruined world live on.' My

* The prophet of the Nasquapee tribe or race — I
incline to the view that they are originally of a different

UNGA VA.

soul is thine. Thy soul is mine. We two
are knit forever. So much I tell thee now.
The rest shall be revealed as time moves on.
My grandsire, after flesh, is Prophet of the
North. He. child of the White God. This
old chief knows my line, and therefore me.
At Mistassinni did that line begin. At Mis-
tassinni will it end. For he and I must sleep
where his and my ancestors sleep, in that old

racial stock than the red Indian — held that the world
had been wrecked by a vast and far-reaching catastrophe,
and his race — all save a small remnant — destroyed by
it. He also held that that old race, thus destroyed, was
the custodian of arts and powers, mysterious and potent
on dead and living alike, and that these had been
originally taught them by " the gods ; " viz., superior
beings, who had come from some other sphere, bringing
with them knowledge and powers "too high for mortal
minds." And that this fearful knowledge had been con-
tinued in his line, or caste, and was known to him.

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UNGAVA.

cave where sound in constant council voices
of the dead and spirit murmurings." '

Then to the chief she said :

" Old Chief, above thy head a hundred years

^ There is at Mistassinni a celebrated cave, which is
regarded by the Indians with the utmost reverence, awe,
and fear. Not one of them will ever look at it to this day
in passing. The reason of this profound feeling seems
to be found in their superstitious conviction that, from
remote time, their dead chiefs were buried in it, as were
also their prophets or sorcerers. It seems to have been
the sepulchre of ancient days and people, for it has not
been so used for a long time. They believe that the
spirits of the dead hold their councils there, and that
ghostly debate is constantly going on within its great
chamber. I cannot ascertain that any one has ever
actually visited this celebrated cavern, or has any accu-
rate knowledge of its size or appearance. All that is
known of it is that it was once the place of sepulchre,
and is regarded with utmost fear and veneration by all
the tribes of the North,

jv •■■ .«.'■*,,

UNGA VA.

have rolled. Look with the eyes of many
days. Behold, the first and last am I. Thou
knowest fate, and its old voice. For, when
the first White God did'st come from out of
sea in boat not built by man, and, on the
beach all wet and foul with brine and sand,
was found by thy old sire, who then was boy,
the prophet of your tribe did say, ' When girl
is born instead of boy, the White Gods
die.* Last chief of Mistassinni, here amid
the ancient dead, the daughter of the
White Ones, doomed like thee to end the
line of glory, brings life and gives thee
greeting."

Then did the grim old Chief do mystic deed.
There, standing naked to his waist, the Totem
of his tribe in red upon his breast, he lifted
hands of plainest pantomime. Thrice did he

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l/JVGA VA.

wheel the sun around the earth in stately
motion. Then strung his bow, and from his
quiver four arrows drew, and, breaking pointed
headc, he shot the harmless bolts to south and
north, to east and west. So saying, " Thy
reign is one of peace, and over all the eaith."
Then from his head the horned band he took
— that symbol of old sovereignty, older than
earliest throne," — and from his wrinkled neck

^ Horns, as symbolic of power and sovereignty, are,
literally, older than thrones. Like the Cross — the old-
time symbol of joy and plenty — they run backward in
time beyond all interrogation. When or how the sym-
bolic significance first arose, no one may iscertain. If
there was no other evidence, the horns of the bison on
the head-band of an Indian chief — for none save chiefs
of the highest rank can wear hem — would prove that
the red men of this continent belong to the primeval
races. As the Trapper would say, " That is a sign that
cannot lie ! "

UNGA VA.

the string of savage claws,' Vvron in chanceful
battle with the polar bear whose lightest blow
is death, — a necklace whose every pearl had
come at risk of life, — and laid them at her
feet. Then on his withered breast he signed
the sacred sign, and in solemn pantomime took

^ The string of bear's claws round the neck of a chief
is the highest possible proof of his skill, courage, and
rank, since every claw in the necklace must have been
taken from a bear that he with his own hand — unas-
sisted by any — had killed. When it is remembered that
the Indian had no weapon save his arrows, his hatchet,
and his spear, some idea of the strength and courage
required to secure such savage trophies can be formed.
It takes a man of supremest nerve and courage to face
a grizzly or polar bear with a Winchester to-day. What,
then, must be thought of the stout-heartedness of one
who, alone, and armed only with such feeble weapons
as the native Indian had, would bravely attack these
monstrous animals ? Verily, no braver race of men
ever lived than the red Indian of this continent.

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C/JVGA VA.

goblet filled with water and poured ' it on the
ground. Then stately stood, and signed :

** Child of the Gods that were as snow !
Daughter of Power and Mystery ! Queen of
Spirit- Land, whose coming in the flesh before
I died, and going with me to the grave, was
told a hundred years ago when I was born !
Ungava ! I, Chief of ancient times, about to
die, salute thee ! For, the same Voice that
spoke thy fate, above me, sleeping in my
father's tent, did say, ' This boy, a chief to
be — the last and greatest of his line — shall
die in battle with his foe upon the sands of

^ The Indians of the Labrador peninsula present to
the student of their habits and customs the curious
spectacle of being both Christian and pagan, and in
an equal measure. They will receive absolution at the
hands of the priest, and the next instant engage with
equal sincerity in an act of superstitious worship.

I I

UNGA VA.

wild Ungava, when from the White Gods shall
be born a girl that bears its name.' So art
thou known to me, and so I know my foe
still lives, and day and chance will come.
Trapper, 'tis well thy knife stayed in its sheath,
for now I know I shall not die like hog in
hole, but like a warrior on the bloody field,
with sound of battle in my ears, my foe beside
me, and the dead m heaps around. So, like a
chief shall I take trail that leads me into Spirit-
land."

Then, after pause, the Trapper spake :
" Ungava, such boastful words are vain,
and vain this pantomime of worship. The
light of heaven never will he see, nor foe,
nor batde red. Here are we penned with
death. Through veins that never shrank be-
fore, a chill creeps on, and all my frame is

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l/JVGA VA.

weakened of my power. If thou art able,
lead me from this dreadful place filled with
the smell of graves and dust of mouldered men,
to where my eyes can see the sun once more
and to my nostrils come the wind that blow-
eth strong and pure ; and, whether thou be
witch or woman, soul or flesh, a living sweet-
ness or the mate of death, to me thou shalt
be angel evermore."

So spake the Trapper with clear tones. To
him Ungava listened as wanderer listens to
sweet song sung by familiar voice through
dewy air to him home-coming : — a song that
tells of love and home and peaceful days that
have been his, and shall be his again forever.
Then to him said :

** Fear not. Thou shalt see sun again.
Upon thy face shall blow the wind that blow-

UNGA VA.

':m

eth strong- and pure. I am the queen of
under and of upper world. The earth is hol-
low, and its outer shell is cracked with pas-
sages like the ice. I know them all.. They
are blazed trails to me. At touch of mine
they flame with light far brighter than the sun.
I know the under ways, — a labyrinth of pas-
sages which are to others endless as those
tangled circles where the wicked dead go
wandering, vainly seeking end of doom and
the warm light of upper world, whose loves
and light they forfeited by evil deeds. Through
these I will guide safely on to where my grand-
sire sits whose eyes have seen the coming and
the going of three times fifty years ; who knows
the arts and mysteries of lost worlds and ao-es
and has power on dead and living. Nor fear
the chill that bringeth death, nor that dread

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C/A'GA VA.

weakening which has shrivelled up the full-
veined strength that in thy frame was born,
that I have seen go forth in battle mightily,
until I veiled my eyes in horror at the red-
ness of thy path amid the bodies, even as my
soul, admiring, leaped, glorying in thy power.
Here in this vial, cut from crystal under pole,
where, vibrant, quick with living sparks, glows
that electric force which is of Him nor man
nor spirit ever saw, who rules the universe he
made, and is forever making by laws that work
forever, — the great I AM, — is vital liquid,
which, were you dying and one drop was laid
upon your tongue, you would rise up strong
as a giant. Thus with my finger, moistened
with this living essence, I wet thy bloodless
lips. And thine, old withered Chief; and bid
ye follow me. Twice twenty leagues we go

UNGA VA.

through warm and cold, this way and that,
through crust of earth cracked into fissures
when the fire-breathing Dragon ' of the
North, whose tail was wider than the world,
struck it head on, until we come to where my
grandsire waits to show us, ere he dies, things
that were and things that are to be. Come
on ! Come on ! I am thy angel. Trapper !
Follow thou the light that burns because I
will it! Follow me, and fear not! I am
Ungava ! "

^ The breadth of the tail of the great comet of 1811,
at its widest part, was nearly fourteen millmis of miles ;
the length of it, one hundred and sixteen millions of miles.
The earth, remember, is only seven thousand nine hun-
dred and forty-five miles wide. If the tail of such a
comet as that of 181 1 should sweep over our globe, it
would not be large enough to make a bullet-hole in it !

Ml'

I
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iiu

CHAPTER III.

UNGAVAS LOVE.

*' TTERE are we come at last. Here, safely
**■ guided, I have brought you through the
under ways of earth : — the cracks and fissures
in her solid crust, made in the ages of forgot-
ten time, when out of distances beyond her
orbit fell the bolt of ruin ' that did rive apart
the underlying granite. Past lakes of boil-

* It is a remarkable fact, and extremely suggestive,
that a belief existed among the Indian tribes of the
American continent that the earth was once struck by
a vast physical body coming suddenly and at tremen-
dous speed out of space, which caused an enormous
ruin. We find this legend or old-time faith among the
Aztecs, the Pueblo Indians, the Mandans, the Dacotahs

or Siouxs, the Chicasaws or Creeks, and all the many

UNGA VA.

ing water, hot with central ' heat ; on banks
of rivers sulphur-edged and bottomed ; past
springs whose flames burn blue and white,
yielding no smoke, and dreadful pits which
vent the smothered fires where righteous igno-
rance believes are penned the damned ; I, you

branches of the Algonquin family. With more or less
difference in descriptive details, as would naturally be
expected, the great fact is the same in each tribe or
race. With this legend are blended other ones of cave
life, and the loss and renewal of the seasons, of day
and night, and of vast climatic changes which came
to portions of the earth inhabited by their ancestors,
as the result of this monstrous visitation. Back of all
these legends in time, there must have been some fact
as the originating cause. At least, so it would seem.

^ It is well known that in many of the deep, subterra-
nean passages of the earth, especially in sections of the
earth's surface subject to earthquake forces, the waters
are hot, and some of the springs are, literally, of boiling
water.

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UNGA VA.

have guided and brought safely on to sure re-
treat. Here, crystal, flow sweet waters. Here
bread and meat await your hunger. On these
piled skins and under eider blankets lighter
than moonlit air, you can find blessed sleep.
Eat, drink, and sleep. Fear not. Trapper,
this light is of the day. The air you breathe
has poured in currents past the stars. When
food and sleep have made you strong again,
Ungava will return, and taking hand in hers,
will lead you up where you shall sec the orb
that lights the world, and hear beneath the
cliffs the tides come roaring in. Old Chief,
sleep well and long. You shall find foe and
chance, and out of glorious battle go like war-
rior to your sires. Eat, drink, and rest, while
from my chamber nigh I sing the song that
bringeth sleep and pleasant dreams."

Vx\GA VA.

ungava's song.

I (

When men do sleep, their angels keep

Love's watch where'er they be.
They plant or till, they sow or reap

On mountain, plain, or sea.
They lose or win, they laugh or weep.

Who knows which it may be ?
Sleep, Trapper, sleep. Dream, Trapper, dream.

There comes no harm to thee.

II.
Fair, fair is she, whose deep dark eyes

Gaze fondly down on thee.
Warm, warm her heart. Beyond the skies

She longing waits for thee.
Her bosom white, her eyes of night,

Are waiting there for thee.
Sleep, Trapper, sleep. Dream, Trapper, dream,

Of Heaven, and her, and — me !

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C/AGA VA.

III.

Mine, mine to l<eep. Ilcrs, hers to have.

So are we blessed three.
Soul of my soul. Heart of her heart.

I keep. She has. Ah, me !
The lots are drawn. The wheel stands still.

I keep. She has. Ah, me !
Sleep, Trapper, sleep. Dream, Trapper, dream,

Of Heaven, and her, and — ^me !

IV.

Before our birth our fates are fixed.

How may they altered be .''
Why murmur, then } Why hope or wish ?

Who can the end foresee }
If I lose life, I yet may find

The life I lose for thee.
Sleep, Trapper, sleep. Dream, Trapper, dream,

Of Heaven, and her, and — me !

UNGA VA.

Sweet, sweet to one is duty done

When heart is ruled by will.
Sweet, sweet to know, as days go on,

That you preserve from ill.
I may not have, but I can keep.

So let the wheel stand still.
Sleep, Trapper, sleep. Dream, Trapper, dream,

Of Heaven, and her, and — me !

So slept they through long hours. Then,
by the longing of her heart impelled, Ungava
came to where the Trapper slept, eager to
look upon his face again. So softly to his
chamber did she steal, and standing over him
still slumbering on, she said :

" He sleeps ! O sleep, rest lighdy on him
as the fur upon the sleeping ermine, when
undf ts warm whiteness his little life reposes

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C/A'GA FA.

undisturbed. Be to his wearied frame as the
cool water to the runner s feet, when, hot and
swollen, they have brought him safely to the
end of perilous trail, foe- chased. Be to his
soul as is that volatile oblivion with which
the gods ease pain, to wounded warrior, that
he may feel no more the wounds of grief, the
pain of bruises got in fearful falls, or have
his dreams disturbed by roar of dubious battle.
O sleep ! sweet jailer of the soul, lock up his
senses tight within his mighty breast ; stop
ear so closely that no vagrant sound may steal
into its vaulted vestibule and beat its vibrant
drum. Seal down his heavy lids that no swift
flash of light electric shall, with pointed lances,
pry their edges open ; that I may gaze upon
him undisturbed and question his unconscious
soul, that, as the ancient oracles with lips of

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UA'GA VA.

stone, not knowing what they said nor sens-
ing joy or doom, so it ma) .peak of Aite and
tell me if I live or die. Thrice round him will
I walk that he in sacred circles three may l)e
enfolded. Thrice over him, recumbent, the
dust of dim forgetfulness I sift, that, throuoli
its drifts oblivious, he may not wish to rise.
So sleeps he deep and well. Ah, me ! if to
my senses there could come such blest ob-
livion ! "

Long stood she then and gazed upon him
as he lay asleep. Then walked away, hands
clasped in doubt ; returned, and, standing- over
him, exclaimed :

•' Oh, heart within, be still ! Rebellious
bosom, cease, cease, to lift and sink tumul-
tuous ! Be as the level sea when ebb is
ended and the flood is stayed. And ye, pale

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C/JVGA VA.

sisters, gentle spirits of the skies, in whose
sweet loving is no trace of mortal passion,
help me who am earth-born, but doomed to
be unto this man, or god, — I know not which,
— a guard and guide forever ; to chill this mor-
tal warmth within me into ice, lest love shall
bring me woe and anguish evermore. Ah,
me ! Ah, me ! That I, a woman, should be
doomed to look upon a man, like this ! To
see his soul pure as a child's ; the gentleness
of his spirit when unvexed ; the might of hand
which, single and alone, shapes battle ; the
modesty of nature too humble to know its
greatness ; and that old sense of truth which
sweareth to its hurt and changeth not, keep-
ing word and bond to lowliest given unto edge
of death, — and be forbid to love him ! Did
ever woman on the earth before have fate like

1 1

UNGA VA.

this fall on ner ! Oh, thou who did'st weave
fate for me, appear, appear, and tell the child
of ancient days, if I do right or wrong to
question destiny ! "

Then, in reply, from out the gloom of farther
distance came a voice, saying :

*' Ungava, light of face but dark of soul,^ fear
not to question and to know. The Powers that
work for thee are mighty. The threads that
wove thy fate were mixed and tangled dubi-
ously. Love cuts all knots, and love, per-
chance, may out of fate deliver. Child of the
Past, the old gods love you, and behold.
Call up his soul and question freely. It shall
speak truth oracular, and to his breast return
not knowing."

Then, rallying courage for the deed, Ungava

said :

* Referring to her foreboding of coming doom

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"So be it, then. I will call up his soul and
know the truth." God ! If from his soul, un-
conscious, I should learn that from his eyes
one look of love would ever come to mine
before I die ! Such look would last me
through eternity and make my heaven a mem-
ory ! " Then, proudly posed, with hand ex-
tended, grasping wand of power, she sang :

" From out his breast where thou art hid,
Oh, soul, come forth when thou art bid.
Prepare to leave thy home of sense,
And love shall be thy recompense.
For one brief moment rise and tell
The fate that makes my heaven or hell.
I fain would know what will befall.
So come, and answer love's sweet call.

Now, by the mother that did bear.
By powers of earth and powers of air.

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By that sweet thing you most do love,
On earth below or heaven above.
By babe in cradle, corpse in grave,
And by this wand I now do wave
Above his sleeping breast, arise.
And here take form before my eyes."

Then was such sight as mortal never saw.
Around the Trapper, as he slumbered on, a
smoke as that of incense did arise, in color
rosy-red, until it hid his sleeping form from
sight of gazer ; and out of its enfolding came
a voice, which said :

*' I heard a voice I may not disobey call me
from out this sleeping body that I animate
and which to me is as strong hand to the
directing will. Wh>- am I called before my
time? Ungava, what would'st thou know of
me, or him?"

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Then said Ungava :

*' If ever I may have thee as mine own."

To which the Voice repUed :

" Yea, I am thine already. We two belong
to him."

Ungava :

'' But I am woman. And a woman's wants
are mine. Unless he loves, I must bear doom
and dole. Oh, tell me, will he love me ? "

To this the Voice :

** When in the cave which, but for thee, had
been his grave, he swore — 'If thou would'st
lead him forth where he might see the sun
and breathe the air of heaven, thou should'st
be i\ngel to him evermore.' "

Ungava :

'* I know. I know his angel will I be. But

will he love me ?

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UNGA VA.

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Again the Voice :

"The woman that he loves must be a
queen."

Ungava :

" Queen ! Queen am I. My throne is an-
cient as the Stars of Morning. Earth and
air, past world and future, rule I. Speak
once again. Shall I be Queen to him?"

To this the Voice made slow and solemn
answer :

"If thou would'st have him break his faith
and be to word and bond untrue, living or
dead, then may'st thou be his Queen."

Then slowly thin and thinner grew the
smoke until it vanished, and in the cham-
ber dim and dark Ungava stood above the
Trapper, slumbering on.

"Break faith!" she slowly said. "To word

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and bond, be, living or dead, untrue ! Oh,
soul, thou did'st mistake if thou did'st think a
woman's love would tempt the man she loved
to such a deed. This man is honest. Such
other one there may not be to-day on earth.
Within his breast honor is as the breath is to
his nostrils. Who, by the gift of all her heart,
has paid the price and owns him, I know
not. What woman of these later days when
women have lost ancient beauty and are
dwarfed from loyalty's high port to fickle-
ness, might with her little self pay queenly
price, is past all credence. Nay, it must be

false. Such woman lives not. The time has
been when women in their beauty wedded
gods, and immortality paid the price of death
to win them, and winning them, died happy
in their arms. But that is past. From some

UNGA VA.

old grave of porphyry or pearl, where she In
sweet embalmment slept, had he the power to
summon up the beauteous dead of olden
time, some Queen, crowned and raimented
in royalty, with all the fire and passion of
her sex's perfection in her blood, might have
arisen at his call, and, seeing him in battle or
on the edge of death stand fearless, flung
herself into his arms and claimed him for her-
self and for her throne. But now ! It cannot
be. There is no woman living fit for him.
My power shall seek and find her. He has
been cheated. My eyes shall see. If she be
fit for him — alas ! alas ! I yield him to her
arms, and yielding him I will lie down and
die, and in the grave find — perhaps — forget-
fulness ! But if she be not fit ; if she stand
dwarfed beside him ; if he were cheated by

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some accident of fate that came with tardy
foot or ran too swift ; if she be not as crown
to kingly head ; then will I win him to my-
self, and so be perfect angel in being perfect
woman. But hush! He moves! Ah, what
a sigh was that ! I thought I was the only
one that sighed. I will away, and come again
when he awake."

Then vanished she. As light retreats into
the west at day's decline so glided she into
the farther openings of the cave, still gazing
backward as she faded into darker distance.
The Trapper woke. His eyes moved in their
sockets, seekingly, as one who, sleeping, has
lost sense of place and time and circumstance ;
then memory came, and sitting half recumbent
murmured he :

** Ungava I Atla ! It was a dreadful dream I

UNGAVA.

As wild as chief e'er dreamed sleeping over-
tired on some old battle plain. I will arise
and wash my heated face with cooling water.
I would I knew where water runs that might
this dreadful dream wash from my memory ! "

Then in the ice-cold tide that ran in pleas-
ant murmurs down the cavern's side he bathed
his heated face and cooled the fever in his
eyes, and, thus refreshed, stood gazing down-
ward musing — when suddenly he stooped,
and with observant eye studied the cavern's
floor, and said :

'• By sacred ' sign on rifle stock I swear that
little imprint there was outlined by Ungava's

* Many of the rifles among the northern Indians and
trappers, partly from priestly influence, perhaps, and
partly from religious or superstitious motives personal to
the owner, have the cross carved or painted on them.

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foot ! See ! Heel and forefoot have left mark,
but the arched interval between, too high and
firm for weight to flatten, has left the dust un-
stirred. The savior of my life did stand and
watch me as I slept ! Aye, she with face like
purest snow, and gloomy soul as it were ever
under shado^;, and eyes that hold within their
fringes, jet ;j,3 night, the sorrow of a world long
dead, who out of old-time grave and instant
death did snatch me, did watch and ward keep
over m'^ in sleeping. What may I ever do to
balance up the scales that now so heavily slope
obliquely in her favor? She said great service
must I do for her. I, standing in that dreadful
tomb, chilled and weakened nigh to death, did
give her word and bond if she should lead me
to the upper world where I might see the sun
once more and feel the air blow strongly on my

UNGA VA.

cheek, she should be angel to mc evermore.
That word and bond thus given will I keep if
hand or heart of mine may keep it this side
death, or on beyond it. But, God of heaven,
what is this ? That impress in the Polar fur
where lay my head! If death were settling
darkly in my eyes, through dying film and
glaze well should I know that little trail.
There stood Ungava. Here above my head
did Atla stand. My God, that they, my savior
and my Love, should in this chamber stand
together over me, and I sleep on ! Am I on
earth, or spirit land ? — What may this visita-
tion mean ? "

Then as he musing stood Ungava came with
noiseless step into the chamber, and gliding to
his side she gently said :

"Trapper, twice has the sun come to the

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UNGA VA.

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earth and gone since thou did'st sleep, and
now the moon shines whitely on the world.
If thou art rested, we will go and thou shalt
look upon her beauty and shalt hear the
music of the sea which rolls its rhythm under
sounding cliffs. What troubles thee ? Hath
not thy sleep been sound and restful?"

" Sound, sound it was in truth, O thou
whose face is as the moon, my savior and
my angel : but, O Ungava, as I slept strange
dreams did come ! "

"Dreams?" said Ungava. "What dreams
did vex thy sleep, may I not know ? "

" Aye, aye," he cried, '* thou shalt know
all. For thou do'st love me and art wise
beyond the wisdom of dull, earthly man.
Perchance thou can'st the riddle read and
tell me what the vision means."

UNGA VA.

Then calmly she: ''Say on, and tell me
all. No doubt I can the riddle read and
give its meaning."

Then solemnly the Trapper said:
•* Ungava, listen. As I lay, my senses
locked in slumber deep, — so deep I doubt
if roar of coming battle would have stirred
me, — forgetful of all earthly happenings as
the dead: suddenly I seemed to hear the
sound of music coming through the air in
strangest song by dead or living heard, —
a song sung for my soul ! In answer to that
song my soul did leave my bosom and slowly
rising stand, as a thing unseen, above me.
Then voices did I hear. Questions that my
ears could not retain were asked and answered.
Some soul was seeking of my soul for knowl-
edge which it would or could not give ; and all

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the world around me was as are the heavens
when the clouds above Ungava's torrent tides
at sunrise roll upward rosy red. Then, sud-
denly, the voices ceased ; my soul sank down-
ward to its mortal home within my breast ; the
red clouds faded, and 1 knew no more until
I woke. Spirit of knowledge, tell me what
it was I heard or seemed to hear. What is
the meaning of this dreadful dream?"

Then said she, lightly, " Dear friend, thou
wast o'er- tired. Thy body had been sorely
taxed, and all thy senses tumbled into sleep
as shot bear tumbles over edge of cliff and
at the base dies struggling. It was a fever
vision, an unreal distortion of the fancy;
nothing more. Forget it."

Then did the Trapper, strongly moved, place
hand upon her shoulder, and exclaim :

UNGA VA.

" Ungava, I can see some dread is on thee,
and from fear of hurting me thou holdest back
the truth. Thy soul is wiser than thy words.
Look at that imprint in the film of dust upon
the floor. There did my body lie. There at
my feet thy foot did come and stand. Were
1 on dying bed, with dying gasp I'd swear that
thy white moccasin did'st make that imprint
on the floor. That is not all. Angel of my
life ! Savior in hour of death ! Look here,
here in the snowy fur of this white polar's
skin, see ! see that footprint where a little foot
did leave its tell-tale outline in the yielding
hair! Whose foot made that? There at my
feet, Ungava, as I slept, did'st thou or thine
own spirit stand. And here, by Him who made
the world, were I at judgment bar, with hell be-
fore me, I would swear, upon this skin, s -n or

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UNGA VA.

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^unseen by you, with arms outstretched above
to shield or claim, did my sweet Atla stand !
My God ! what does it mean ? "

Whiter than winding sheet her face beside
his, gazing, grew. One hand clutched breast
as if to tear it open. Back from her shoulder
stretched her other arm, rigid and stiff. The
hand was clinched in horror. Her widely
opened eyes bulged wildly prominent — two
orbs of black surprise. Then into air her
white hands did she dash, and such a scream
burst out of mouth as never shredded air
before. And hurling wand from quivering
hand, she dashed from out the chamber as
if upon her had come down, like bolt front
heaven; an overwhelming fear or shame.

CHAPTER IV.

THE WIZARD OF THE NORTH.

TN his vast chamber, vaulted high, whose
ledge-Hke sides were knobbed with metals,
precious stones, gold, silver pale, pyrites of
iron, garnets, blocked crystals, diamonds bar-
baric, stones of blood and countless gems,
and from whose dome stalactites pendent
hung, sat the Great Wizard of the North.
This caverned hall was Nature's marvel. It
was as if some god before first day and night
had been, when chaos ruled, and all the globe
was soft as heated mud, with hands whose
palms were wide as landscapes, had in wildest

freak or wanton merriment, with strength gi-

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UNGA VA,

gantic, flung all metals known to forming
nature down in showers, and laughed to see
them fall into the stiffening ooze, which, hard-
ening, held fast the treasure -trove of mighty
mirth. Thus, when the cavern was by shock
volcanic formed, its sides and vaulted roof
wide-spanned and high were weighted with
the wealth of empires. In this vast chamber
thus adorned, rich in barbaric splendor, the
Wizard of the North, her grandsire. Ancient
of Days, whose stay on earth v;as thrice the
length of mortal man's, sat in his awful chair
— a seat of power which had come down from
primal days, huge and high, carved with weird
shapes, bristling with polished horns whose
every point shone like a star — on jet-black
pavement placed, upon whose lustrous gloom
was traced in gold the sacred circle of the

t,ii'i 111

UNGAVA. 7^

Zodiac. His hair was white as whitened wool.
His face was pale with years and thought
and study of deep things. His eyes were
living blackness. Above them brows of snow
projected. On one thin hand there shone
such stone as never man beheld, which flashed
and glowed, changed color fitfully, then veiled
its splendor in dull red, and slept. Anon its
mystic fires would blaze again, and hot and
hotter burn until they flamed the hand with
splendor. Within the other hand, laid lisdess
on his lap, was rod of that old mystic metal
which to our modern ignorance is but a name,
but once, with its strange powers, was known
to men and had high use. In it were noises
constant, as of snapping fire, and ever now
and then a spark shot forth. Nor lacked it
power to move and lift the hand that held it.

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It was strange rod. A living proof of ancient
mystery which startled Egypt into justice, if
sacred text be true.' Thus, in strange state
and style, the mighty Wizard of the North,
the weird embodiment of powers and arts and
vital agencies beyond the ken of moderns,
sat musing, lost within himself. Then opened
he his mouth and, as one holding audience
with himself, he said :

'• I know not what it means ! Thrice has
the Rod stood upward in my listless palm,
unmoved by me ! Not for a hundred years
has this old symbol on my hand, instinct
with primal sense, burned with such fierce

* Exodus, vii. chap. 10, 11, 12. — "And Aaron cast
down his rod before Pharaoh and before his servants,
and it became a serpent. Then the magicians of Egypt
cast down every man his rod, and they became ser-
pents; but Aaron's rod swallowed up their rods."

UNGA VA.

and fitful fires. Twice past me since I sat
within this chair my ears have caught the
sound of Hitting feet. They came in haste,
and when they went, they flew. I felt, but
could not see the presence pass. It must be
so. One of that race which planted earth
with power and beauty and high knowledge
has drawn a line across the distances, so
vast that light itself might never shaft the
mighty intervals, and in this cave has coine
and gone! There is not other one unless
of that one race, in living-land or dead-land,
my eyes might not behold in passing. Nor,
of that race is one, unless she be of that
old queenly line that lifted gods unto their
throne, and by that graciousness did make
them greater. But wherefore ? What is there
here for them or one of them, that she should

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leave her throne, which, v;ere its glory ten-
fold brighter than the sun's, is y^t so far
removed from this small earth that not a
point of light might tell its place or glory
to a mortal's eye ? What soul is here which
through such space could send or call forth
message ? The chief of Mistassinni, withered
and old, sleeps out of weakness unto strength,
waiting for foe and chance. The Trapper, a
vital man and primal in the greatness of his
nature, but humble, and content with chase
and hound and honest fight and mortal cir-
cumstance, sleeps to the music of the falling
rill, lulled into slumber by Ungava's song.
She, under fate to serve him, as higher spirit
lower, caught in the eddy of a mortal passion,
spins struggling round, and wildly seeks to
know the issue ere it comes. These three

UNGAVA.

are here. No more. Why should a mighty
throne in distant universe be moved by what
is here, to visit, invisible, this earthly cavern ?
There lifts the Rod again! The Ring burns
hot as fire! What means it? Hist! I hear
the stroke of flying feet and rush of garments.
It is. -It is. Ungava flying comes ! "

Thus from the chamber and his presence
fled she terror-stricken, filled with shame, that
she had been observed by one unseen of
her when she revealed her soul to his, seek-
ing to know her destiny. Wild with fear she
fled as flees the fawn, when by his yell the
springing panther is revealed,— a ball of
tawny fury falling through the air, above it
feeding. So she with flashing feet fled fast,
her garments streaming as streams the plum-
age of a pheasant sailing on, until she came

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to that high hall where, in his chair of mystic
state, there sat the Wizard of the North, her
grandsire, pondering on ancient things and
siofns that stirred his soul. Into his awful
presence wildly did she burst, and with white
face and hand high lifted, before him stood
and cried :

" Sire of my sire. Ancient of Days, who
hath the early and lost knowledge ' of the

* It is by no means improbable that, as the great
prophets, seers, sorcerers, or wizards — call them what
you please — of all peoples and times have claimed,
there was in the beginning of the world a far closer
connection between this earth and the invisible worlds,
than now is provable. In all sacred literatures, whether
Christian, Jewish, or Pagan, — so called by us whose
pride is equalled only by our ignorance of primal things,
— this claim is boldly made, and miracle-working, or
the doing of things outside the regular course or order
of nature, is made, in them all, the very basis of the

^1,

UNGAVA.

world and all its power on dead and living,
tell me, thou who taught me mystery and
armed my hand with Rod of power and to my
lips gave incantations that out of ashes of
old urns and dust of ancient graves can call
forth those who once with life did warm the
mouldered clay, and from the bosom of the

structure around which they, as the verbal expression,
have grown. It is evident to all scholars that back of
what is known as modern civilization were other and
more perfect ones, whose very ruins are a marvel to
us all. It would seem that as we are only jnere cc;yists
in architecture, so we are only borrowers from the past
of all that is really valuable in our faiths and moral
code. No one with a heart can but lament that there
is to-day no connection, whatever, in the form of com-
munication, bet\.een those who live on the earth and
our loved ones who live beyond it. The great loss
that has fallen on man is this entire loss of the old-time
connection with the invisible world.

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living summon the soul articulate, and to my
eyes didst give the sight which sees through
space and graves : tell me, if in the universe
there moves a body or a soul that, coming
out of living-land or dead-land, can stand
within arm's reach of me and not be seen ? "
So cried she standing in her fright before
him.

Then he in answer :

" Ungava, daughter, last of my race, born
unto dubious doom, to whom I have revealed
the mysteries of life and death, and taught
those ancient arts which give to lip and hand
an awful power, and to thine eyes the sight
that looketh, seeing, into graves and far be-
yond ; what has disturbed thy soul ? What
power has baffled ? Tell me plainly all, that I
may plainly answer."

UNGA VA.

Then she in haste, awe- stricken, made
reply:

"The Trapper slept. I am a woman and
I love him. The threads of fate spun at my
birth are tangled with his own. If he shall
love me, happy will my life go on and happy
will it end. I then shall b.^, as mortal woman
having lived and loved. My children will come
after and our race be endless. If not, I do
lose all that earth holds for a woman, and I
die unmated, and in loneliness I shall live on
forever. The rill with soothing murmurs fell.
I sang him soothing song. He slept. Above
him sifted I the dust which brings oblivion to
mortal sense. Then from his breast I sum-
moned forth his soul and questioned it if it
might tell me, if my destiny were joy or woe.
His soul obeyed me and made answer as I

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asked. I went. He woke. I came again.
He was disturbed in soul. My spell was
almost broken by some other spell. Some
other power, most potent, had almost, by a
dream, betrayed me. I was amazed, but
passed it lightly off. In vain, for, in the
dust where I had stood he pointed to my
footprints, and did say, * There didst thou or
thy spirit stand as I lay slumbering.' Th^n
to another footprint plainly pressed into the
yielding fur of the white skin on which his
head was laid, he pointed, and exclaimed,
' Here, with arms outstretched above my
head to shield or save, did my own Atla
stand.'

*' Sire of my sire, great Seer and Prophet,
who is this Atla ? What spirit is there in the
universe more strong th^n I, when standing,

UNGA VA. ge

Rod in hand, in incantation? Tell me, by
Ring and Rod, if one there is in living-land
or dead-land that can stand within arm's reach
of me at such a moment, seeing, and remain
unseen by me ? "

Long sat he without speech. The Rod
moved in his hand and from the Ring there
blazed a flash of conscious flame. His eyes
were fixed upon her startled face. Slowly
and soundless moved his lips. At last he
murmured, as murmuring to his soul :

"Atla? Atla? Atla-ntis!' Is, then, the

1 This refers to the belief of many schohus and those
who have thoughtfully, with learned minds, examined the
subject first broached by Plato, that in the Atlantic Ocean,
stretching westward from the coast of Africa, was a great
continent-island called Atlantis, from which the Atlantic
Ocean derived its name, and that in this island the
human race began its career.-

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UNGA VA.

old race gone from earth they loved and
ruled, forever? Is that first tree of knowl-
edge stripped to its last sweet leaf? It must
be so. How did it read ? Alas ! How many
years and graves have sifted down their smoth-
ering dust upon that sentence since 'twas said.
Can I recall it? Aye, now it comes. * The
last and best shall bear the name of Afother-
land' Atla, the last of that great queenly
line, is dead, and with her died her race. Un-
gava lives, and with her lives her race, — per-
haps. Now sec I all. Now read I well the
riddle. 'Love cuts all knots ^ and love may
out of fate deliver' If he may love her?"
Then to Ungava plainly did he say :
'* Ungava, daughter, listen. I now will tell
you gravest things. We must take deepest
council. In the beginning two races were on

UNGA VA.

earth, the earth-born and the visitant. In
union were they joined and from the union
two other races sprang. Ours was not great-
est. The other greater was. It held the cra-
dle of the world, and hence, prolific, sent its
children toward the setting sun and south-
ward. Our race the other was, and we came
northward, which then was Summer- Land.
Thus separate, divided, each of the two held
to its own development in power and rank.
Ours was the lesser, always. They built on
reason and present things. We on the future
world, credulous and superstitious ever. This
Ada is the last and greatest of that race and
Its old queenly line, as thou art last of that
religious Caste with us, that holdeth Rod and
Ring of power. By some strange chance she
must have met this Trapper, and have loved.

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f/JVGA VA.

From distance greater than the farthest star
from earth a thousand times, as you did sum-
mon forth his soul to claim it, she, hastening
hither, flew. I heard her come and go, invis-
ible to eyes to which all graves are only mir-
rors. This Rod did lift and bow obedient
as she passed, and on my trembling hand
the conscious Ring flashed startled recogni-
tion. She, she it was who stood above the
Trapper's head, unseen of you. Greater than
we, she is. Her power is stronger. Ungava,
Atla is your rival, and she knows all ! "

Then stood she white in dumb amaze at
what her ears had heard. Atla her rival, and
Atla had seen all ! Who was this Atla ?
Where was she and where was she not?
Perhaps e'en now her mighty orbs were on
her ! What might she do ?

UNGA VA. 89

Then to her, standing- thus all white with
fear, her grandsirc came. He took her hand
and gravely said :

" My daughter, child of a race that dieth
with thee if thou diest without issue, on yon-
der couch of skins I pray thee seek some
needed rest. Thou art o'er-taxed. This mat-
ter leave to me. It needs grave thought and
deepest wisdom, lest by blunder we lose all.
Sleep thou in peace. I will the Trapper sum-
mon here and tell him much of ancient times
and things. I will observe his soul, and at
the last lead up to thee. Such man as he
was never on this earth, if, seeing thee as he
shall see, knowing thee as he shall know, his
soul shill not in love or pity give itself to
thee. So on this couch convenient let now
thy frame repose. Close eyes ; yield mind

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C/JVGA VA.

and thought to me. While with entreating
and persuasive gesture I from thy soul draw
trouble and call sweet slumber down. So,
gently does she pass from ills that are and
thoughts of ills to be into that realm that
lies beyond the line of mortal sense and
pain. I would that when she wakes she
might awake into a world of equal peace."

CHAPTER V.

THE conjurer's ACCOUNT OF THE GENESIS ' OF

THE WORLD.

IT ERE have I brought you, Trapper, that,

in answer to your questioning, I might

narrate the Genesis of the world, and tell you

of the races which earliest dwelt on earth ; of

that first innocence which represented God,

^ Whatever the reader may think of this as an accu-
rate history of the beginning of the world and the " Fall
of Man," it can doubtless be regarded as accurate as, and
certainly more philosophic than, the one to which Milton
stands sponsor in his " Paradise Lost ; " that magnificent
fiction of imagination, which has imposed a theology upon
the Christian world which for the most part is diametri-
cally opposed to good sense and sound Scripture both.

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and how it fell ; of arts and powers once known,
now lost to men, and of that primal truth
which underlies religions, superstitions, creeds,
and Is to them what vital element is to human
blood. Here sit thou down, and, while Un-
gava sleeps, I will rehearse the tale of olden
times, and you shall know the lore of that
old world which is forever gone and all the
glory of that race which once shone on the
heads of millions, but which, like candle burnt
to socket, now flickers feebly in two feeble
lives. Never before, beyond the limits of our
Caste did this old lore go forth ; but you shall
know the truth as it has come from mouth to
mouth in sacred speech and accurate, from
those who saw and knew whereof they told.
I tell you, hoping it may live when she and
I are numbered with the stars.

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UNGA VA.

" This, then, was in the beginning, and this
the cause and order of that first development
whose ruined glory is to-day a marvel.

** No art or science, Trapper, worth the name
was ever born on earth. All have come down
from races throned amid the spheres, who,
through unnumbered ages, had clomb slowly
up the slopes of fine intelligence, and terraced
Heaven with knowledge. When these on
wing inquisitive in downward flight came to
the earth, with them they brought all knowl-
edge and all grace, and planted here the
germs of needed progress. By these the
earth in infancy was taught. Knowledge was
borrowed from the skies. The seeds of
every precious growth were sown widecast
from hands whose skill eternity had taught.
Through these superior ones the earth did

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C/JVGA FA.

gain and lose all worth the having. From
them it gained the skill to build, to fashion,
and to mould ; and traces of their mighty
work are found to-day in ruins wide as acres,
in forms that stand gigantic in the forests of
die East, in jungles which once were gardens
of the gods, in mountains disrupted by volcanic
shocks, but which, smooth-sloped and joined
by intervals of verdure, once gave summer
residence to those who longed to breathe the
cooler airs from snowy summits blown, that
are a wonder. Men stand and gaze at them
astounded, not knowing what hand or skill
could shape and hew such mighty sculptures.
From them, too, came the knowledge of the
skies. They were the Stars of Morning who
sang the heavens into place and named to
human ears the constellations. They fixed

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UNGA VA.

111

the orbit of the earth ; called time from out
eternity by measurement of day and night, of
months and years ; and zoned the earth by
temperatures. They did unfold the mystery
of the magnet circle around which sweeps the
restless steel, and so ofave couraire unto men
to push their ships beyond the sight of land,
sail far and wide through pathless oceans,
bravely trusting life and gold to a sliver of
thin metal, thus giving birth to commerce
which stands parent to the brotherhood of
man. From them, too, came the arts of heal-
ing ; the use of poisons, which, left untouched
till time of need, are antidotes to death ; the
knowledge of all herbs medicinal, which give
to every pain and ache its healing leaf; of
oils, which, penetrating joint and bone, drive
out the lurking pain, or, spread as ointment

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UNGA VA.

on the skin, pink it with heaUh and smooth
all wrinkles out, — those scars of smiting for-
tune ; of perfumes, how distilled, how min-
gled, how preserved, that out of many sweets
perfected sweets may come, that mortals might
be charmed from joys of grosser to those of
finer senses. From them, moreover, knowl-
edge came of metals, where found, how worked
and manufactured into forms of use and orna-
ment according to the laws of high utility and
taste. They taught the laws of architecture
unto men ; the principle of the arch, — that
key of utmost strength ; the column, plain or
fluted, — that symbol of high stateliness ; the
crowning capital which flowers the stony stalk
with airy beauty ; and how tall tower and min-
aret and steeple and the rounded dome should
shape the massive structure underneath into

•^i^m^^mmmmm

UNGA VA.

proportions rhythmic. The cereals that give
food to man were from the wild abundance
of material chosen and by careful culture prop-
agated unto perfection. Last of all, they taught
them written language, symbolic and phonetic
both. First in pictures,' that their childish
eyes might be enticed to learn and easily catch
sense from shade of color and from shape.
Then in arbitrary forms which were for scholars,
ranges of high thought and universal traffic
in ideas answering universal needs ; that all
the race, in all its tribes and families, in every
zone remote and clime distinct, might by one
universal avenue come at last, as after tri-

^ Probably the oldest language or method of commu-
nicating thought was that of signs, or pantomimic, next
to which, beyond doubt, stands the " Picture Lan'niage,"
which we find carried to perfection in the hieroglyphics
of Egypt.

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UNGA VA,

umph, marching into apprehended brother-
hood. In all these ages of celestial teaching,
Trapper, the future was not hidden from the
present nor dead from living. They did come
at call and ghostly terrors were not known.
The earth-born died ; but not as those whose
lives have ended, but have just begun. The
he-wenly ones died not until within immortal
veins death entered, as I will tell, by wrong,
unfit admixtures of the lower with higher
blood. Of this I will now speak.

"Trapper, religions change. They flood and
ebb like tides. 'The old die out and new ones
come. They are deciduous. A thousand
years, — which in the cycle of existent things
are only as are years to centuries, — their
leaves, nutritious, medical, fall for the healing
'I the nations, then .they leafless, sapless

UNGA VA.

stand, and are from habit worshipped for

other thousand years, though out of them all

power for good is gone, and the once vital

growth for human need stands, cold and

bare, a rigid system of devout formality. The

Deity changes also with the changes of the

human mind, growing and shrinking as it

grows and shrinks in knowledge. Men of

different climes and ages give Him different

names and nature. Now He is this, now that.

According as they know or dream or feel, so

is He. Man makes his Deity, and worships

the pictured idol .A his mind whether false

or true, and, worshipping, grows into likeness

of his idol whether good or had.

** But, Trapper, listen and remember what I
say ; for it is true. Back of all these changes
and these picturings of men, good, bad, or both

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UNO A VA.

T; . Ji

or neither, there stands forever the Eternal
Power who made and makes all things by
spoken word immediate or slow evolving law,
as seemeth to Him good and answereth His
own purpose best. The / Am of the Jew,
the Zeus of Greece, the Jove of Rome, the
Sacred Fire of Persia, the Odin of the North,
the Manitou of Red Man, the God of Chris-
tian is evermore the same; the One Great
Deity, the Cause, Creator, Ruler, Preserver
of universal man, animals and things. We
know He is our Father. That is all we know.
The propagating principle strikes its deep
root into His own white vitalness, and from
it draws unintermittent sap and is forever
active. Beyond this simple fact, self-evident,
we nothing know. All else is born of fancy,
wish or ignorance, or that infernal pride and

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UNGA VA.

lOl

cruelty of scheming-, grasping priestcraft, which
manufactures attributes \.1 terror, dieirin<j hells
and walling hekvens in, that it may hold the
keys of them and dominate, through fear,
the lives of women and the souls of men.
" This world was made by Him, not as a
special act, to loom forever, vast and high,
in the blue sky of universal sight ; nor as a
theatre on whose eye-compelling stage great
tragedy is played that He might make exhibit
of His Love and Power : for He is always
making worlds innumerable and filling them
with races, as He, in summer, fills meadow-
land with flowers. For when He made. He
made it as a residence and home for earth-
born and for spirits both, who, for ages num-
berless, uncalendared, had grown in grace and
knowledge of finest arts 'and holy things;

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102

i/JVGA VA.

and these to earth came clown to give the
new earth knowledge and to teach the lowly
ones of clay the science of pure life and lay
in law and helpful order broad and deep the
strong foundations of development, that they
in time micrht crrow to their estate and so
have freedom of the Universe. Thus was it,
Trapper, and no other way, as I and other
like me have had from record, memory-kept,
handed down to us from that first day when
they, the Stars of Morning, sang welcome to
the new-made world and songs of praise to
Him, the Maker.

" So was it at the first. The earth was free
to all, and heavenly ones came down as knowl-
edge comes to ignorance, to teach it and as-
sist. These were the White Ones of the world,
the mighty Sons of God, and were, by right

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UNGA VA,

103

of knowledge and of power, the rulers of the
earth. They taught it science, gave it laws,
transmitted hither arts of building and of heal-
ing, tested the qualities of earthly things, —
its minerals, ores and precious gems, — divided
base from pure, measured the orbit of the
earth, its axis calculated and fixed its place
among the constellations which rule its mo-
tion, and gave them names familiar to the
ears of lower earth-born men.' These mighty

^ It is plain tliat in early ages mankind were divided
into Totemic sects or families bearing animal names.
From this arose the fables of animals having human
speech. When we read in some old author that the Fox
talked with the Crow or the Wolf to the Sheep, it simply
means that a man of the Fox Totem or Tribe talked
with a man of the Crow Tribe, or one of the Wolf fam-
ily with one who bore the Sheep as his Totem or family
name. It would be natural, as Astronomical knowledge
grew and stellar discoveries were made, that the forming

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104

l/JVGA VA.

ones, these teachers from the skies, these wise
and holy beings were the gods of earth, and
so they stand to-day in all the ancient litera-
tures, — grotesque, weird, meaningless, because
their cause, their order and their old signifi-
cance are lost and scattered, crudely woven
into later superstitions, — mere shreds and
patches of a glorious fabric that once was
perfect whole.'

constellations shoulr' receive these Totemic names, in
compliment, perhaps, to the Tribes or Nations that bore
them. It is as if astronomy were now forming the con-
stellations and grouping the starry systems and should
call one the Constellation of England, and another of
Russia, instead of Saturn or Orion.

^ The Mythologies of Greece and Rome are unques-
tionably based on great facts of personal existences and
actual history that belong to remotely early ages. Nep-
tune, Jove, Hercules, Mars, Vulcan, these were all once
men, kings, rulers, noted benefactors of the human race

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OM»w»iigMWi— ma>wi»1i i«ui ilr « i>i II I'l" tei»'fa»

UNGA VA.

105

"Now hearken. When first the Sons of
God, the gifted ones of Heaven, came visi-
tant to earth, — which was not till the slow
evolving movement of creation had, through
ages long, circled its full sphere, and earlh
and all its creatures perfect stood, — they
found on earth a race of beings strangely
born. They had come upward by evolving '

and not mere creations of the fancy of Grecian and
Roman poets. They are the shades or ghosts of once
living, substantial persons, whose natural forms are lost
to the historic eye in the dim distances of unrecorded
times and so are therefore seen in grotesque misshapen-
ness.

* This old Nasquapee Conjurer or Prophet had evi-
dently a pretty correct conception of Darwin's system
or idea of evolution. It might be interesting to inquire
whence he derived his knowledge so closely in accord-
ance with advanced modern thought on the development
of the human species.

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growth and were of many orders. Each bore
in mind or mood, in body sturdy or light;, a
dim resemblance to his or her original. In
each, by motion, 'ook, by style of voice or
eye, by color, management of form or char-
acteristic passion, was hint of prototypes in
distance hidden.

" Some were as tigers, fiercely strong and
beautiful with wild and savage beauty, soften-
ing into purring moods at times, and sweet
maternal tendernesses. Some were lithe and
subtle as the snake when, sinuous and glossy
with new skin, he charms the innocent bird to
his keen fangs. Some had the haughty lone-
liness of the snow-headed eagle, and his eye
to gaze undazzled at the sun, when, soar-
ing high o'er cloud and shade through crys-
tal air with steady wing in level flight, he

;■!

UNGA VA.

107

grazes its hot rim and glances, with shrill
scream of challenge, onward ; — that scream
which hunters trailing on in silence hear
come hissing, tearing downward like a burn-
ing arrow, and wonder what the awful sound
may be and whence it came. Swift and strong
to swoop and strike were they, and death flew
with their shadow. Nor lacked these earth-
born races skill to make and build, for they
were cunning with the cunning of the bee and
ant and those winged architects which weave
their homes from textile hair, from eossamer
floss or floating fibres, and hang them pen-
dent by shrewd fastening from the swaying
bough. But they were fickle, fierce or igno-
rantly weak, and had no common language
and lacked the mind to organize and push
on and ud to final finish what

they set hand

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UNGA VA.

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to. So nothing of their doing was carried

to perfection, or broadly based to stand the
wear of time and shocks of change. Hence
all they did fell down in ruin ere 'twas done,
and all their progress was in circles mov-
ing round and round in endless imperfec-
tion.

•' But of their women, there were some
whose loveliness was hued and odored like
the earth, their mother, when amorous warmth
sweetens her swelling breasts with bloom and
spice ; and pungent odors fill the nose with
pleasure and with longing for more and deeper
inhalations. Dark were these women, but glo-
rious as the night when through its spaces of
warm dusk the stars are powdered thick and
all its swarth is flushed with latent light and
heat. Some were superbly calm, — their, move-

UNGA VA.

109

ments as the swan's, slow, stately, proud, ic-
poseful as still pools vine-bordered, starred
with lilies, — on whose bosoms, warm and
sweet, a man might sleep forever nor wish
to wake. Blooded were some like fire, veined
with passions swarth as hot as torrid heat in
jungles, electric as the night when all the
gloom sweats odors which o'ercome the
senses, and in it, latent, lurks the unkin-
dled lightning. In some were strange mag-
netic powers, known or unknown to them,
and he on whom, when place and time and
mood were apt, they slowly fixed their orbed
eyes, half-closed, voluptuous, lost higher wit
and virtue and every sense save sweet recep-
tiveness, and yielding, overcome, did gently
sink into their gracefully lifted arms as into
sweetest heaven. Some won by gentleness

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l/JVGA VA.

and goodness, being of mild natures, disppsi-
ttons sweet, modest and shy as antelopes or
the gazelle, and lovely as untutored grace
might be and that sweet modesty which, star-
tled at first thoughts of love, shrinks timid
from the sight of its own loveliness. These
women of the Earth, novel to Heaven's sight,
lifted eyes of homage to the Sons of God,
wise, strong and holding kingly rank, and in
the splendor of their beauty lay at their feet
in humble worship, graceful, solicitous, entic-
ing. Nor did they fail in their wild, natural
wooing. For they were honest in it, being
all enthralled with glorious face and form and
spectacle of rank, and, more than all, their
loveliness was great. So were the White
Ones of the world, pure-blooded, deathless
Sons of God, drawn downward to the lower

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UAGAVA.

I I I

type in amorous admiration, and took of them
wives as many as they chose.'

**So ruin came to the first world and order.
The pure crossed with the impure lost their
purity for aye. The mountain streams flowing
crystal from the fount of God, fell into valley
pools and were forever roiled. The temper of
the skies, serene and sweet, was roughened
and made sour. The bright intelligence of
Heaven, quick to invent, to see, to analyze,
fashion and construct, was clouded ; the even
disposition thrown from its poise, the just
judgment warped, the holy, vital force to will
and do, running clear from the Font of Life,
grew thick with earthly mixtures. All cer-

* Genesis vi. 2. — The Sons of God saw the daughters
of men, earth-born, that they were fair. And they took
them wives of all which thev chose.

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UXGA VA.

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tainty of holy birth was lost. The propa-
gating instinct, drawn from God, was turned
against Him, for mongrelism,' — that worst
and deadliest sin, corrupting all, — was lifted
on to thrones that ruled the world, and, with
power perverted ever after, helped to mar it.
"So fell ♦*'. race of God. So virtue went
forever from the earth, and sin came in. The

* The practice of " out crossing " as it is called by
breeders was, evidently, not favored by the Divine Pa-
rent of the human race as he everywhere set law and
custom against it. There is not a race that has ever
gained, symmetrically, by marrying beyond its own blood.
The pure-blooded, inbred races are those who reached and
maintained a high level of excellence. The Jews, Egyp-
tians, Greeks, Romans, Irish, might all be quoted in
support of this position. The idea that a great, sym-
metrically formed race can ever be built up in this Con-
tinent on the basis of nationalized mongrelism is scouted
by all history. God and history are alike against it.

UNGA VA.

113

leaders of the blind were blinded, and bodi
fell down together into deepest ditch. As
entered mortal mixtures into deathless veins,
death entered, not as new birth from lower
unto higher at full-time pregnancy, but as
doom, and with each added birth there came
new risk and ruin to mankind. Like poison-
ous vapor out of noxious pools, rising cold
and dank, death slowly up the shining slopes
of tainted generations rose, until in darkness
it enveloped all from basest hut to noblest
throne. And thus with sin against pure blood
came death into the world.

'*Thus the first glory of the world went down
in ruin. The tree of knowledge, whose fruit
your Scriptures say the woman ate, — a fable
growing out of fact, a withered leaf of old-
time knowledge, fragrant still, garnered by

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UNGA VA.

*:<..

poet out of Jewish lore, garnered by Jew in
turn from literatures that had it full in prose
and verse a thousand and ten thousand years
before the day that Abraham or even Job
drew breath, — was marriage with the Gods,
from which, — as was in nature sure to be, —
came power to hand and knowledge into heart
and head, which they, earth-born, untaught,
undisciplined, weak or wicked, knew not how
to use aright, or, knowing, because of evil in
them, perverted it to evil use. The sin was
not on woman, but on him, who, for his wan-
ton pleasure, lifted her to marriage bed beyond
her dignity, and to familiar sight of powers
and forces, agencies and agents, that were
beyond her ken or skill to understand or use
aright. She was forbid to taste the fruit of
that forbidden tree as childish ignorance, in-

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C/NGAVA.

115

quisitive, is commanded not to touch the fire
that burns. But more was he a hundred
times forbid who Hfted her unto its branches
sweet with flower and odorous leaf, and put
the luscious fruit into her longing mouth.
The woman erred unconscious, striving to
reach and have what to her senses was
sweeter than the breath of life to nostril, ac-
cording to the longing of her ambitious,
ardent nature. But the man she tempted, or
was tempted by, who did lift her up, from
love or lust, unto the level of forbidden bed
and all the life and knowledge which, through
wifehood, motherhood and daily intercourse,
it gave, did sin against the dignity of his
high nature and a law which in his clear in-
telligence blazed warningly as blazes beacon
fixed above the rocks of wreck and death.

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CHAPTER VI.

THE WHITE GOD OF MISTASSINNI.

HUS in the beorinninor aained the earth

whatever it has had of glory. It gained.
It lost. For of the mingling of the higher
with the lower, there came, not all at once
but gradually, a lapse and weakening of that
vital force which had come down from heaven ;
a clouding of that bright intelligence which
only cycles of eternity can give the seeking
mind ; a lowering of the tone and level of
ambition, which erst sought only noble ends ;
and, worst of all, a lapse in holiness. The
pure imagination was befouled, a grossness
came to appetite, the moral sense was blunted

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UxVGAVA. 117

— that sentinel of God, which, while it stood
instinct with heavenly life, kept perfect guard
above s veet innocence and trustful virtue.

" So passed the ages, and the earth grew
upward in external glory but downward into
moral ruin. Then shocks were felt which
shook the solid world. Catastrophes were
multiplied. Here Fire, there Water, and at
some other point Frost wrought its work of
ruin. Chaos had come again. The Mother-
land sank under sea, and with it went the
treasures and the records of the primeval
cycle. Here and there a colony survived
and carried down to later ages some feeble
fragments of the glorious whole that had
been shattered into ruins. Only these sur-
vived. The sphered excellence of high
achievement, perfect in holiness, glorious as a

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globe illuminated, proof of what moral rectitude
■with mortal power might do, was lost forever.
*' Then out of space there came a vagrant
world flying in unguided, lawless flight ; a
world on fire, — a funeral pyre of some old
race, perhaps — and as it passed, monstrous
in size, Hying faster by ten thousand times
than this small globe wheels on, nigh to that
point which now is northern pole, the home
of Arctic cold, which then was Summer-land,'
where dwelt, 'mid flowers that faded not and
fruits that ripened for each day of the round
year, my race ; it struck the earth, and in the
twinkling of an eye my race became extinct.

* There is no possible way to explain the presence
of man)'^ forms of tropic life found, by whalers and Arctic
explorers, within the Arctic circle, save on the supposi-
tion that a sudden and life-destroying change of climate
came, in some prehistoric period, to the polar region.

l/AGAP'A,

The level axis of the earth was, by the dread-
ful shock, knocked obliquely up, the round
of Nature's order chanored, summer and winter
rushed into alternate place, and transposed
were the zones. Thus, Trapi)er, died the first
two races of the earth. The one sank under
water, and the legend of that flood is told
in almost every language of the world.' The

* It is a remarkable fact that in Egyptian literature,
historic or legendary, there is not the least hint of or
allusion to the Flood. In Plato's " Atlantis " the aged
Priest of the Temple at Sais who entertained Solon,
Plato's grandfather, while living in exile out of Greece,
accounts for this fully. He explained to Solon — I
quote from memory — that the reason why Egypt had
no special memory of the Flood was because there had
been many such local catastrophes on the earth since
the beginning, of which their records had knowledcre
and that there was no legend about that special one
because the facts of it were all fully known to them.

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Other perished under shock from heaven
which crushed them on the instant. As falls
the hammer on the anvil so death fell on
them. They knew not it was coming" till it
came. Beneath that blow they and their
mighty works were beaten into dust. The
gravel of these northern wilds that mark the
landscape is granulation of old palaces. We
are within the circle of a ruin that buried half
the world as you bury bodies under sand.'

'' Here at Uneava, where fruits and flowers
were then, there was a colony of that old
race which lived in Summer-land of the
North. This fringe of population, not wholly
pure in blood but mixed with other races

^ This certainly explains that mystery of the earth —
the great geological puzzle — the Drift. Whence came
it, when and how.?

\.&

UNGA VA.

121

which they met as they pushed southward,
escaped, and so remained a feeble remnant
of that primal stock that once held all the
North. Trapper, this is enough. You know
the past. I am of it and of that Caste which
'mid the ancient folk held Sacred Keys of
knowledge and of power preserved from ear-
liest days, — a knowledge that knows all that
has been, and a power that bridges death
and brings across it at my call the feet of
those who over it, amid the wailing of their
friends, did pass to distant realms. One thing
alone remains for me to tell. It is a modern
happening, and gets significance from what
it means to you and her. Listen now, and
hear.

" When he who was the sire of the old
tongueless chief of Mistassinni was but a boy,

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he found, one morn at sunrise, on the beach
of that great inland sea far westward of the
lake where lived his tribe, a boy of his own
age. He lay upon the sand as dead. His
face was white as snow. His hair was gold.
Upon his bosom there was traced strange
Totem, unknown to all the tribes. It was
a double letter thus : — I^^Ev — ^'"^ color red
as blood. He had come over sea in boat not
built by hands ; at least, so seemed it to the
tribes that knew no boat save such as their
own hands had fashioned. That boy revived.
The yoiino' chief fed and brought him by his
hand unto the council chamber of his tribe,
and all the ancients hailed him as fulfilment
of a prophecy old as itself, that, * After many
years, out of the West, in boat not made with
hands, should come a god white-skinned with

Ji i!

UNGAVA. 123

yellow hair.' Thus came unto the tribe of
Mistassinni that ' White God,' as he is known
through all the North. He grew in stature and
in grace ; was fair to look upon, and wise. He
learned their tongue ; his own was all unknown
to them. He married princess of our Caste.
A son was born. That son am I. To him was
born a son of other princess, for our Caste
weds within its circle and goes not beyond.
That son had child. Enough of this ; we
will go back. For of this ' White God ' would
I tell, that you may know him. Then would I
a solemn question ask.

** In battle he was chief. He was not large
in stature, but as the fight roared on and hotter
grew he grew in size until at the white heat
of it he filled the field. His presence was an
atmosphere, which, being breathed, made those

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UNGA VA.

who breathed It braver, so that each lifted arm
in the long ranks that saw him fight struck
downward as if muscled to his shoulder. He
flamed the fipht as lightning, in mid-ocean, on
some tempestuous night, flames the black bil-
lows. No fear was in him. Battle to his
soul was as wedding hour to ardent lover.
Through whirling hatchets, circling axes,
brandished spears and arrows driving through
the air like hail in winter, he would swoop
as through the flying leaves, gust-whirled in
autumn, eye fixed and talons set, the forest
hawk swoops to his quarry. No man e'er
lived on whom he set his blazing eye in bat-
tle. In peace his face was sunny. Through
his yellow beard his skin showed as a girl's.
His eye was as a pool, on whose still surface
lilies sleep unstirred by breath of wind. But

C/JVGA VA.

125

when it came to blows his face grew gray as
steel, his eyes blazed bluish black as winter's
sky, when all the warmth is frozen out of
wave and star and heaven itself is pitilessly
cold. But when the fight was over he would
take his wounded foes and bear them to his
tent and nurse them as a mother her sick
child. Many he healed and with strong bodies
they went home, to be his foes again and fight
him on some other day.

'' Once only was he merciless. It was that
year that they of Mistassinni hunted seal on
the west coast of wild Ungava, where the ebb
and flood of icy tides are twenty times the
height of man's full stature. One day a ship
drove in whirled onward by a tempest from
the north, through froth and foam that whit-
ened her black hull a spear's length deep from

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126

UNGA VA.

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Stern to stem. Onward she drove before the
whistling winds, her sails in tatters streaming
in thin strips from spar and mast, until the
mighty eddy, spinning round 'twixt a great
island and main shore, dashed her, side on
and downward, with a crash, as she were
eider's ^g'g, upon the beach in front of our
encampment. One only of her crew survived
the shock, and he, a giant, battle-axe in hand,
stood on the sand unharmed. We gathered
round him as he stood at guard, our seal
spears pointed into sand that he might know
we fought no man that had been flung by
God's swift-handed mercy out of death.'

, .1

* The superstition of an Indian forbids him to kill
one who, apparently, had had a miraculous escape from
death. Many white men have escaped their vengeance
because of this feeling. Captain Rogers, the noted scout,

UNGA VA.

127

*' Then came our Leader slowly down the
slope to where we stood, our peaceful spears
in sand, a smile of welcome on his face and
light of gladness shining in his eye. So came
he and within the circle of our mercy stood.
But as his eye fell, at short distance, on the
man, his face turned into ice. Its skin grew
gray as steel. His eyes two orbs of fire be-
came. From nighest girdle plucked he battle-
axe and on the stranger stalked until he came
within arm's reach. Then tore furred vest-
ment from his breast until the dreadful Letter
painted on his snow-white skin showed red as
blood. So stood he posed. In one clinched

who fell or slid safely down the front of the great cliff
on Lake George, which was, because of his perilous feat,
named after him, is one of the instances 01 of many
which might be mentioned in this connection.

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128

UNGAVA.

hand was fragment of torn skins, torn from
his heart ; the other gripped the battle-axe.
Thus in the hollow circle of our mercy stood
the two, our God and giant stranger. Then
out of sockets bulged the giant's eyes. The
coarse skin of his cheeks did pallid grow.
His black hair, rising slowly, lifted woollen
cap from head. His big knees, bigger than
joints of moose, shook under his huge bulk.
A fit of trembling seized him. Down fell he
on his knees while in his monstrous jaws rat-
tled his teeth, fear-shook. Then out of qua-
vering mouth there came a scream, * Captain,
have mercy ! ' Speechless still, our Leader,
without word or sign, upward swung his axe
and on the suppliant's head he brought it
down so heavily that through the cloven crown
its broad base sank to mangled jowl, and the

UNGA VA.

129

big bone handle flew in fragments to the
striker's hand. Then, turning face upon us
white as God's own wrath, he said, * Throw
this damned carcass into torrent swift and eddy
deep, that they may whirl and float it where
my father's soul beyond the northern straits
waits to snatch it toward the mouth of hell
and thrust his murderer in.' Trapper, thou
art white man without cross, and of his race
and speech. In battle thou art bigger, but no
braver. Who was this White God of rocky
Mistassinni ? Who was his father ? What
the red Totem on his heart; the double Let-
ter red as blood? My power is blinded to
this mortal thing. Beyond, I might see bet-
ter. Can'st thou tell?"

"Ay, ay," replied the Trapper. ** Prophet,
well I know the race of this White God of Mis-

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C/AVA FA.

tassinni, who was his sire, and what the double
Letter on his breast did mean. The boy who
came, wind-blown from out the sea, leagues
west of Mistassinni, in boat not built by mor-
tal hand, — because not built of bark, — and
lay at sunrise on the beach all wet and foul
with brine and sand, and by the old Chiefs
grandsire there was found, adopted, wor-
shipped as a god by all the tribes, was son
of bravest man that ever trod a deck or
chanced the dice with death that he might
westward find a pathway for the commerce
of the world and bring to knowledge of the
Cross of God the distant tribes of men. His
name, old Seer, was Henry Hudson,' and the

^ I can but refer the reader to the history of early
navigators, of whom Henry Hudson was one of the
bravest, for a full account of his sad fate and that of

UNGA VA.

131

monogram or Totem — call it as you please,
as you be red or white — upon his breast,
was the two first letters of his name cun-
ningly blent in one. This boy the old Chiefs
grandsire found upon the beach, was that
sweet son of his, scarce more than child,
who bravely by his father's side stood up,
when by his crew, in cruel mutiny, the boat
was pushed from his stout ship, that it might
bear them, drifting, unto awful death. Ay,
now I know why he vas merciless when on
Ungava's beach his father's murderer knelt
roaring for mercy. God! what a blow in
judgment did he strike, and how it eased

his brave boy, when his mutinous crew forced him into
an open boat and sent it adrift in the wild waters
which now bear his name. Neither he nor his son
was ever seen by white men after.

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his soul. PropI;et, thou art above the com-
mon superstitions of the tribes, and I have
told you truth. This fabled God of Mistas-
sinni ; this White One of the North the
tribes do worship, was Henry Hudson's son,
a man of my own race and tongue, whose
death has been a mystery for twice a hun-
dred years. Go on and tell me all. This
is great news. The world of letters and of
men beyond these wastes of rock and leagues
of rootless snow and ice will thrill with wour
der when it learns from thee, through me, the
fate of Hudson and his boy. Whom wedded
he ? Were children born to him ? Are any
of his name and blood alive, or is the line
extinct ? Prophet, I swear that I would trail
a trail until my head was white if at the
of it my eyes might look upon the face of

UNGA V/L

133

one within whose veins there flowed the noble
blood of Hudson."

Long sat the Prophet silently revolvinor in
his mind what he had heard. His features
lighted as a shuttered window, pane by pane,
grows out of darkness, with the coming of
the dawn. His eyes of night glowed under
brows of snow as to the Trapper's face he
lifted them. Then slowly out of parting lips
there came the words, "In cheek of snow
that thou hast seen, John Norton, runs this
mighty blood. Thy head need never whiten
on the trail that leads thee to thy wish. The
face that thou would'st see, lies there on
yonder couch of skins. Ungava is the child
of the White God. She ends the line."

Then up the Trapper rose. His face white as
Ungava's, as she lay unconscious on the couch

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134

UNGA VA.

of skins whose fur was black as jet digged
in the caves of night. A moment stood he
dumb. Then said he, standing straight :

"Prophet, thou art a man of many days.
Trutii should be on thy lips and fear of God.
But thou do'st tell a tale so strange that to
thy face I say I cannot credit it. Proof there
must be of this ; proof sure as eye may see.
Give me some proof that she, the savior of
my life, is of the White God's blood, or I
will go my way as one who hears an idle
story told."

Then slowly from the chair of polished
horns the Seer of many days with stately
motion rose. His pale face paler grew, and
his thin hand, on which the stone of mystic
power blazed red, trembled with passion.

" Never before," he cried, " since from my

UNO A VA.

135

sire, as God did take him,' received I ring of
power and wand diat burns because I will
it, has mortal doubted word of mine, and
lived. Thou art my guest and ignorant, thou
mighty man^ therefore I do forgive. Linked,
also, is her soul with thine, and how or what
the issue is to be, for good or ill, I know
not. Hence let it pass. Do'st thou ask
proof; proof such as eye can see? Come
hither then. Fear not; the trance in which
she slumbers sweedy holds all senses locked.
Behold, from breast of snow beneath which
dwells her spirit pure as that white star that
never moves from where it sentinels the cen-
tre of all worlds and systems which move
obedient round it, I lift this virgin vestment.
Tell me, thou doubting man, do'st thou see
* " And Enoch was not, because God to

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UNGAVA.

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sign that cannot lie ? Is not Ungava child
of the White God ? " And lo ! with starting
eyes the Trapper saw, In color red as blood,
the double Letter on her bosom white as
drifting snow !

** Enough, enough," he cried in solemn
tones. '* It is enough. That is a sign that
cannot lie. Ungava is the child of your
White God ! By all I hope and long for
in the world to come, I would we two had
never met ! "

CHAPTER VII.

THE COUNCIL OF THE CHIEFS.

T^HEN came a runner, running from the

south. O'er fields of sand ploughed by

the winds in ridges ; over stretches of blocked

ice, cracked into squares, blue, green, and white,

— a strange mosaic of gigantic size, — he sped

as if some dreadful death was speeding on his

trail. From village unto village did he run,

and as he ran he cried :

** To arms ! to arms ! the Esquimaux are

coming ! A thousand warriors armed for

fight, and at their head an ancient chief

stalks on."

So ran he and so cried his wild alarm.

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UNGA VA.

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Then roared the villages as roars the hollow
log when some rude shock has startled hive
within. The cry of woman and of child
arose. It .swelled in vengeful shrillness, stri-
dent, fierce as eagle's scream. Out of each
warrior's mouth there burst the battle yell,
and hatchets edged for death flashed in the
air.

Then flocked the chiefs to council, and the
Indian Parliament was held, — that place of
high debate where nature's eloquence is heard
and noble speech leads up to nobler deeds.
No idle word is spoken there. No wily pol-
itician counsels for self-gain. Each word is
from the heart. Each sentence like sure
stroke of axe ; and they who speak, speak
for the good of all, and every statement or
appeal is backed with readiness to die.

■-\ ■"

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UNGA VA.

139

In the high hall of that old cavern they
did meet. The man of ancient days sat in
his awful chair, carved into shapes fantastic,
weird, hewn from wood unknown among the
timber of the world to-day, bristling with pol-
ished horns whose every point shone like a
star, and standing on the pavement black as
night, whose gloom was lighted with the sio-ns
of Zodiac in brightest gold. On this stranjre
seat, mysterious, the Wizard sat, Head of the
Council. Upon his banded brows were horns
of burnished gold. Midway between their
roots, large as a star, a diamond blazed. The
mystic Rod was in his stronger hand. Upon
the other gleamed the dreadful Ring, instinct
with conscious fire. Pale was his face. His
hair, snow-white as whitened wools, lay on
his shoulders thin. Beneath his brows pro-

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140

UNGAVA.^

jecting, glowed his eyes, bright with concen-
trate light.

Thus was he seated. On his right the
Trapper sat, strong- featured, grave of face,
observant. On his left, the Chief of Mistas-
sinni, withered, bloodless, thin, as body that
had risen out of old embalmment. Then in-
ward filed, with slow and stately pace, the
chieftains of the Nasquapees. Each in the
solemn circle took his place. Each on the
earth fixed eye and silent sat. No glance of
fire, no moving lip was there. They sat as
sit the dead in c'rcle placed. The silence of
the chamber might be felt. Thus sat they
taciturn and grim, while hour-glass would
have run its sands half out.

Then slowly rose an aged chief. His head
was gray with years, but straight he was as

UNGA VA.

141

is the pine's trunk when its crest is shorn.
Up rose he straight, and stood. Searched
with his eye each tawny face with glance
of fire ; cast blanket down until the To-
tem showed above his heart ; and on his
breast an ochred death's-head grinned; then
said :

*' Men of Ungava, Nasquapees, straight
standing men/ the hated Esquimaux are

^ If you ask a Montagnais Indian what Nasquapee
means, he will tell you an atheist, or one who has no
God, because the Nasquapees have no medicine-man.
Bu^ if you ask a Nasquapee what his tribal name means,
he will tell you <' a man who stands straight." He will
tell you, moreover, that he believes in two Great Spirits,
a God and Evil One, and that the reason his tribe never
had a medicine-man is because they have a great Prophet
who is of the old race whence they all sprang, and that
he knows all things and can call the dead back to life
when he wishes.

It II

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142

[/JVC A FA.

com in or !

I smell thcni in the air.' They
stink like rotting seal. Their bodies lie un-
buriecl like fish upon the banks of Peribonka,
after freshet. They come to die. The blood
of other days is in our veins. We of
the Ancient Folk know how to fight. My
knife is thirsty. It knows where to drink.
Look at my axe. See, it is dull with rust.
I'll brighten it to-morrow on their skulls.
Whose are these arrows ? Look ! Are they
not clean as are the arrows of a boy ? It is so
long since their steel heads were driven into
flesh. I am a boy myself! When have I
seen a foe ? It is not gray of years upon

* As I have said in a previous note, the Nasquapees
are noted for the delicateness of their scenting faculty,
being as a dog is in this respect. Their sense of snieli
is simply marvellous.

1 1!

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UNGA VA.

143

: i

my head. Some other boy in playfuhiess
has sprinkled ashes there! We Nasquapees
have been asleep. Awake. Remember. Look
at my breast. That hole will hold a fist. An
Esquimau stabbed me there. It was that
day we fought them on the Marguerite. See
where his seal spear pierced. It drove clean
through. Look at my back. Beneath the
shoulder blade the head came out. To-mor-
row in the ranks of death I'll find the do^r
that drove it in, and pay him the old debt."

And, gathering up his blanket over bosom
scarred with dreadful wound, he sat him
down, while round the lowering circle venge-
ful murmurs ran.

Then up stood other one. The horns of
power were on his head. Around his neck
a string of polar claws gleamed white. One

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144

l/AVA VA.

eye was gone. The other blazed Hke coal of
fire blown hot. The glowing orb he fixed in
turn on each swarth face in silence. Then
stretched to fullest length his sinewy arm,
and spake :

" Warriors of the North ! Sons of sires
that lived in the beginning, what foe has ever
seen your backs in battle ? Your blood a
hundred times has reddened ice on cold Un-
gava, and fell in battle rain on its coarse
gravel. We are a thousand knives. One for
each knife comes on. Upon that field above
the sounding sea where for a thousand years
our sires did fight, there will we fight to-
morrow. Look at my face. Where is my
other eye ? Whose spear's point bored it
out? Look at my breast. You cannot see
it. It is hidden under scars. Who made

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UNGA VA.

them? White Wolf, where is your oldest
son? His bones are bleaching on the sands
of Mamelons. I saw him fall beneath the
axe of Esquimau. His spirit wanders un-
avenged. Black Bear, where are your chil-
dren? The Esquimau dogs on the Hat
banks of Peribonka ate them. Gray Fox,
where is your youngest daughter ? She toils
a slave, beaten by Esquimau whips, at Lab-
rador. Is the old blood frozen in us? No.
It burne, like fire in autumn rushes. The
dead are looking at us. They are bursting
out of graves to see if we be men. Listen.
Hear. Their voices call for vengeance. One
day, give us one day of glorious battle, and
we will feed the hungry wolves of wild Un-
gava fat with flesh of Esquimaux."

So thundered he, and at the closing word

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146

UAGA VA.

I'll

of the maimed warrior, up with a yell the cir-
cle leapt, and twenty axes lifted high flashed
gleaming brightly through the cavern's gloom.

Then on the left of the great chair the
Chief of Mistassinni rose, tongueless, with-
ered, thin with age, but his old frame, charged
with electric hate, quivered with life intense,
while in his head his eyes glowed like a
jDanther's, crouching for his spring. Then
every horny point bristling round the Wiz-
ard's seat burned brighter, kindling with fiercer
fires ; and as the cavern filled with whitest
light, around the swarthy circle ran an awful
murmur :

" The dead have risen ! Old Mistassiiuii
from his grave above the Saguenay, coming
out of dead-land, stands in our council I "

Then murmur died in silence, while in the

J h

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UNO A VA.

147

white light stood the old-time chief, and
signed :

'♦Men who stand straight. Sons of the

ancient race who once ruled half the world,

I, tongueless, speak to you in that old language

which has come to you from the beginning.

I am a chief of other days. Your fathers

knew me. I was their friend, and in their

aid have fought upon the sands of wild Un-

gava here, while you were yet unborn. You

know my fame, for it filled all the north.

Above the Saguenay I stood the test.' I

was at torture stake. An Esquimau tore my

tongue from out my mouth, and ate it. Then

lighted he the fagots. I did not die. Behold,

he who sits there — a man without a cross,

* An expression used by an Indian to statQ that he
has .'• d the torture of the torture stake.

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148

L/JVGA VA.

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white as your God, but red as bravest chief
at heart — did rescue me. I Hved, and ever
since have waited for my day and chance.
To-murrow I will fight with you. Your
Prophet, he who seeth all in living-land or
dead-land, has said that with the Esquimaux
my foe is coming. It is well. In battle shall
I die, and leaving dead upon the sands my
hated foe, I, joyful, will take trail which leads
me to my sires. Sons of those with whom in
other days I fought ; men who stand straight ;
children of that old race that once ruled half
the world ; I, of Mistassinni, will fight the
Esquimaux with you to-morrow. I have said."
So spake the tongueless chief in stately
language of old days, the vivid speech of pan-
tomime, — that quick and universal tongue of
ancient races ; and as he sat, the warrior circle

;iMi

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UNGAVA.

149

rose and facing toward the aged man who had
been friend and ally of their sires ere they were
born, each warrior, hand on breast, bowed low
in stately courtesy to the ground.

Then, after pause, the Trapper rose ; and
every eye in the dark circle fixed itself in
admiration on his mighty frame.

*' Men of the North," he said, " your fame
is known to me. My name, perhaps, is known
to you. I am the friend of yonder aged chief,
and was the friend of him whose bosom bore
the Tortoise sign, who stemmed the bloody
tide with you at Mamelons in that dread fight
which God by darkness stopped.' I am John
Norton."

* Referrincr to the dreadful fidit at the mouth of the
Saguenay, which the earthquake finally stopped. (See
the Doom of Mamelons.)

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150

C/JVGA FA.

Then out of every mouth there burst a cry
of wonder and applause. Each swarthy hand
dashed upward, pahn outward, unto him, and
every feathered head bowed to the cavern's
floor. Then spake he farther :

" I have come northward with the Chief to
see him fight last fight, and prove my love for
him by doing as he bids. No greater proof
has love tiian that to give. To-morrow he
will find among the Esquimaux his foe. You
arc the sons of sires who never, beaten, left
a bloody field, and need no help from me. I
will stand by and see the old Chief has fair
fight. vSo has he bidden and so will I do. I
am his friend, and with him keep I word and
bond. I have said." And, as he closed, a
murmur of assent ran round the circle
dark.

UJVGAVA.

151

Then from his chair the Wizard spake, and
as he spake the Hghts burned fading down,
and at the closing word the chamber filled
with gloom :

" My children, I, your Prophet, High Priest
of that old race which once ruled half the
world, of which you are, Ancient of Days,
speak words of Fate. To-morrow you shall
fight and win. The Chief of Mistassinni
shall find foe and chance. In dying he shall
put the Trapper under word and bond, and
you shall see such fight as never yet was
seen on wild Unoava, where fiofhts have been
for twice a thousand years. Northward the
Esquimaux shall never march again. My hour
has almost come. Soon shall I rise, as all my
line have risen after many years, into the skies,
not knowinof death. None of our Caste has

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152

C/JVGA VA.

ever entered grave. God takes us.' Ungava
will go westward to that lake to which of old
the White God came. You shall not see her
ever more. The race that was with ours in
the beginning has died, and ours is dying.
Fate has it so, and who may alter fate ! But
make the sunset of my going glorious. To-
morrow fight as you nor any ever fought
before, that I may feel the pride of ancient
days and bear with me a glorious message
to your sires as I join them in the skies be-
yond the northern fires. I, Seer and Prophet,
Ancient of Days, have spoken. Go."

And, as he ceased, the lights died out, and
through the orloom was heard the sound of

softly going feet.

• • • • •

^ Genesis v. 24. — And Enoch was not, because God
took him.

i^if If ,

UNGAVA.

153

Next day beheld the Hnes of battle set. A
thousand on each side, they stretched across
the plain on which a hundred fights had been
in other days. On graves where slept their
sires, the living stood, ready to die. Then
joined the battle. The hostile lines in charg-
ing columns met, and out of war's red mouth
an awful bellowing poured. Amid the Nas-
quapees, upon the left, the tongueless Chief
of Mistassinni fought. Gray, withered, dumb,
he seemed a warrior out of dead-land. He
spake no word ; from month no yell of tri-
umph came, nor order ; but silently he killed.
The Esquimaux before the dreadful apparition
fled. They cried : " The dead have risen I
who can the dead withstand ! " and ran.

Upon the right, heading the Esquimaux*
another ancient warrior, gray, withered, dumb.

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fought in same dreadful style. The Nasqua-
pees, affrighted at the awful sight, fled crying:
"The dead have risen! This is no living war-
rior ; — who can the dead withstand ! " Thus
either end of battle line bent backward and
gave way before the ghostly sight.

Then to the Chief of Mi5:tassinni a wounded
warrior ran, and cried : " On the far ricjht a
warrior risen out of grave is driving all before
him. Come and help." And to the Esqui-
maux there came a runner, running as for
life, and said : " Come to the other end of
battle, for out of death has come a chief of
ancient days who driveth all before him."
And thus the two old chiefs, who long had
waited for this day of vengeance, came hurry-
ing toward each other, and, midway between
the scattered winors, met face to face, at last !

UNGA VA.

155

So did the two old apparitions stand mid-
way betwixt the Hnes, grim, silent, glaring at
each other, gathering strength for batde unto
death. And all the war grew silent as the
two, and stood at rest, waiting to see the
awful fight begin.

!■•■ 1|

CHAPTER VIII.

DUEL OF THE OLD DUMB CHIEFS.

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'T^HEN each his hatchet threw, and all the
■*■ might of their old withered arms went
with the deadly cast. The bright blades
whirling on met in mid flight, and steel and
handles shivered at the shock like glass.
Then up from either line of faces battle-
painted, ochred in panoply of death, rose a
shrill yell as the war hatchets shivered, — a
sight no warrior standing there had ever seen
before, though some were gray in war and
scarred with half a hundred battles. But on
the heel of that wild yell of thoughtless rage

and pride, the prophets of each tribe sent

156

UNGA VA.

157

;.:.

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forth a wail, low, wild, and long as is the cry
of crouching, shivering hound above the dying
hunter, — dying in the snow. For well they
read the sign, and knew that never yet had
warriors lived whose axes met midway be-
tween their heads and shivered in the air.

Then the two aged, tongueless foes drew
bow and loosened quiver, and (luick as light-
ning's flash set shaft to ti<ditened strinp".
The air between them on the instant thick-
ened with flying shafts; the rounded shields
of walrus hide, hung from their necks above
each shrivelled breast, rang like two anvils
tapped by falling hammers as the steel-headed
arrows smote them. So rained and rane thfi
bolts of death upon the two opposing shields,
and, when the sheafs were spent, their tawny,
shrunken arms and shoulders were cut and

158

CrXGAVA.

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picTced with gashes red and deep, and blood
fell downward from their wounds as fall the
first drops from a cloud before the thunder
rolls ; while at their feet the feathers from
the broken shafts lay thick as plumage in a
glade above whose turf two hungry, hunting
eagles, swooping at one prey, have met in
mad and disappointed swoop, and clinched.
But by no bolt had either shield been pierced,
and underneath the tough, protecting hides
their old mad hearts, untouched, beat, hating,
on.

Then rose a mighty murmur, and each line
of battle, forgetful of its hate, swayed in
around the fighters ; for never on wild Un-
gava's stormy shore, where bloody war had
been for twice a thousand years, had there
been seen by mortal eyes such dreadful fight

UNGA VA.

159

before. It was as If these two old chiefs had
burst their cerements of bark and risen out
of graves, shrivelled, dried, death-dumb, to
fight, and show the younger men that gazed,
how their old grandslres fought it out. The
Trapper, leaning on his rifle not ten paces
off, saw in the gloomy orbs of the old Chief
the death light shine, and knew that this was
his last batde. Thrice lifted he his rifle butt
from sand, then drove it back. Thrice did his
mighty fingers seek hatchet handle, then fall
away, and with a groan he said :

*' Nay. Nay. It may not be. It is a
mighty fight and fair. My God ! it must go
on ! But his old eyes will never gaze again
on the loved rocks of Mistassinni ! "

Thus mingled were both wars. The Es-
quimau stood side by side with hated Nas-

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quapee. Their painted faces almost touched
as they stood thronged around the dreadful
two whose hearts were hot with hate kindled
in old fights fought on those barren shores
before the warriors round them had been
born.

Then the two fighters, grim and gray, with
stately motion lifted their old hands, palm
outward, and called mutual truce. Then sig-
nalled the gray Esquimau in dumb show to
his tribe :

" My children, here fight I my last fight.
My fathers call me, and I go. The trail has
waited long and I must tread it now. This
chief and I have met before. With this right
hand I tore his tongue from out his mouth.
Lying half smothered in the brands, his hand
launched knife at me, which passing through

rJVG^IVA.

i6i

my face made my mouth dumb forever. We
both have wrongs to right, and we will right
them here. Take ye my body to that bold
bluff where all my fathers sleep abreast of
Anticosti. Lay me with them there where
I may hear the tides come roaring in, and
see the seals at play. Let there be wail
for me as for an old-time chief among the
tents which empty stand and will stand
empty ever more beside the sea whose moan
shall sound forever for a race forever gone.
From this last field of mine bring into Spirit-
Land such news of deeds and death as shall
make welcome for you such as warriors give
and get around those spirit fires which light
the lodges of our sires beyond the northern
sky. I, dying, give cheer to you about to die.
So fare you well."

l62

UNGA VA.

Then to the Trapper signalled his dumb
friend:

** Trapper, the trail is ready and I go. This
Esquimau and I will end our quarrel here.
The trail is long and lonely, but never yet
hast thou failed dying man. I love thee,
Trapper, for thou art true. No white is in
thee. Thou art red. I shall not see thee
ever after this. Thy trail runs to the front
of Atlas throne ; mine to my father's lodge.
Tell her from me, that he who made her
grave at Mamelons sent greeting to her when
he died. Take thou my body to far Mistas-
sinni and lay it in that cave where sleep my
sires and where forever sound the voices of
the dead. When we have ended this, let
these damned Esquimaux feel thy rifle butt
and knife. At sunset, out of this last fray

UNGAVA.

of mine, let both come forth well wet with
brains and blood. It is my last behest. I
love thee, Trapper, like a chief. So give me
word and bond. May no knife ever girdle
head of thine. So fare thee well."

Then spake the Trapper:

*' Old friend, as thou hast said, so shall it
be, if life holds with me after this. Thy
greeting will I give her when we meet.
Thy body will I bear to Mistassinni, and,
in the cave where sleep thy sires and
where their voices sound forever, there shall
it sleep. These dogs of Esquimaux shall
feel my rifle butt and knife. From this last
fray of thine they shall come forth both red
and wet. I give thee word and bond. So
lay on. Chief, and make thy vengeance sure.
Thy heaven may not be mine; and so I

iliiii

1 64

UNGA VA.

say my long farewell, and give thee dying
cheer."

Then once again the old gray haters faced,
and their throats rattled, struggling .with wild
yells. Their sunken eyes glowed hot as
burning coals. They dashed their shields to
earth and stooped low down. Then drew
their knives, long, bright, and keenly edged ;
sprang into air and met, — and struck. Each
knife drove, heart-deep, home ; and, as they
fell apart, each bosom held the other's blade
sunk 'twixt the ribs to the strong handle. So
they died.

Then for a space was silence. Deep as
death's, it hung above the host and stayed
the pulses of the air. Then into it and
through it, swelling slowly up and wavering
on, the Indian wail arose, wild and weird, the

UNGA VA.

165

saddest of all wailing ever sounded out of
throat of woe. Quavering it swelled, lingered
in long plaint, then died away in thinnest
sound, and all the bloody plain was silent as
the grave again. Then, suddenly, like crash
of thunder in the breathless pause of some
hot summer night, there burst a yell that
ripped the silence into fragments. It burst
from out a thousand throats as if the thousand
had been joined in one, and through it hell
had sent irom out her caves its scream of
hottest hate. Then deadly strife went down
and rioted among them. Mixed and jammed
they were together. Each man found foe be-
side him. No room for arrow or for spear
was there. Each hand set fingers into near-
est throat until their nails in torn flesh met.
Then knives were plucked and reddened to

1 66

UNGA VA.

the handles as they found flesh, and half the
battle in the sand lay coiled and knotted like
a field of snakes. So wrestled they and clung,
bit, struck, and died.

When rose the signal yell the Trapper's
rifle cracked. Both barrels rang almost in
twin report and two tall chiefs sank brainless
to the sand. Then, swinging heavy hatchet
in mighty hand, into the jammed battle did he,
headlong, plunge. Half through the thick-
ened throng of fighting men he hewed his
way. Through lifted shield his red axe sank
to covered head and clove to shattered jaw.
The warding spear shaft,' gnarled and thick,
shivered like rod of glass beneath his dread-
ful stroke. He warded neither knife nor
spear. The terror of his arm was his de-
fence. In his red wake the Nasquapees

UNGA VA,

167

rushed in. They guarded safe and sure th-
back of their great friend. He knew it not.
He only saw his thickening foes in front, and
strode straight on. He grew in rage as grew
the fight. In him war stood incarnate, fierce
and red. The ancient dead fought in him.
For o'er his head he heard the steady tramp
of feet, and through the air the old Iberian
murmurs run. And 'mid the whiz of arrows,
whir of hatchets, crash of axes, and the thug
of spears as they were driven home, he heard
a voice he knew cry clear and loud :

'• Lay on, John Norton, lay thou on ! For
the old Tortoise's sake, — whose son thou art,
and king shalt be, — show thy full strength
this day and make good her right to name
thee lord and master to the mighty warriors
of her race, now gazing at thee, under lifted

1 68

UNGA VA.

shields above Ungava. Lay on, I say, for
tribal sign and her ! "

Then he went wild. He cast his dreadful
axe in air, and, clutching rifle by the muzzle,
drove headlong at them. His mighty face,
lean -featured, rigid, battle-white, sharp-set as
flint edged for the pan, was horrible to see.
His great, gray eyes, beneath his shaggy
brows, were black as night, in whose black
centre lightnings burn and blaze.

From left to right — a mighty sweep — his
heavy rifle swept. Stock, locks, and wood-
work shivered as he struck, and flew in splin-
ters wide cast. Around him centred all the
battle. He was the battle. Ahead of him
the Esquimaux rallied thick as bees in bush,
when some intruding shock has burst the hive,
and inner comb and dome of gray lie on the

UNGA VA.

169

ground in patches. Through buckskin shirt ami
jacket stout their pelting arrows stung. They
spotted him with blood. He felt no smart nor
sting, but like a maddened lion ramped on.
In Esquimaux no coward blood e'er flowed.
They are a hardy stock, and all their lives
are lived in peril. They breasted bravely up
against him by the score, their coarse hair
bristling and their small eyes adder-red. On
shoulders broad and stout, on- thickened skull
and wide breast-bone, the bevelled barrels fell
and crushed. He smote them down as thresh-
er's flail beats banded bundles on thresh-
ing-floor. With every stroke his breathing
sounded wide. So fought he, and so they,
quivering, died.

Then into the wild batde ran a figure
clothed in black. At waist a tasselled cord

170

C/A'GAyA.

was tied. His head was shaven bare. In
high upHfted hand a silver crucifix gleamed
white. Upon a pile of dead men, tumbled
like jammed logs, — a dreadful heap of death,
— the holy friar leaped and held high the sign
of Calvary. Then Nasquapees and Esqui-
maux dropped on their knees and flung their
weapons down. They knelt to Heaven's sign.
With steady hand the holy man held silver
cross on high, and to the dreadful slayer
called :

" Stay hand ! Stay hand, thou dreadful
man ! For Holy Mary's sake and her dear
Son's, stay now thy bloody hand ! Above
this awful field I lift this sacred sign and bid
this strife to cease. Let these poor men that
live, go free."

Then stood the Trapper. From dripping

UNGAVA. 17^

brow the battle sweat he wiped with one red
hand, and, gripping hard the bloody and bent
barrels in the other, said:

-In yonder dell the tongueless Chief of
Mistassinni lieth dead. Between his ribs the
driven knife still clings. In fair and mighty
batde did he die. I was his friend. He
knew his doom and bade ^vr^ long farewell.
He loved me like a chief, at.d therefore
charged me, under word and bond, that I
come forth from this last fray of his with rlHe
butt and knife well wet and red with brains
and blood. I gave him word and bond, and
joyfully he took the trail that led him to his

sires.

- Bond and word have I kept on this full
field. Above the dead and dying thou hast
lifted sacred sign. I am a Christian man.

rirtiifir-' "■'■' -'■"*"

172

UNGA VA.

Let, therefore, these damned dogs go hence
alive. They owe me rifle, — barrels, stock
and locks, and hatchet flung high up, when
in the air I heard her old-time people's war
cries ring, and caught the sound of charging
feet above my head. I will collect my debt
upon them on some other day. Aye, let the
dogs go hence. I am a Christian man."

So spake he. Then turned his back on
priest and living foe, and, lining steps by the
long row of bodies he had smitten down
through bloody lane made by his awful rage,
he came to where the silent Chief of Mistas-
sinni lay silent evermore.

But when he came to where the old Chief
lay, he started, for lo ! amid the dead, robed
in black furs from head to foot, a hood of
night's jet blackness on her head, her ser-

UNGA VA.

173

'1: ■

pent wand of twisted gold in hand, her face
white as the snow, her great orbs fixed in
mournful gloom upon the dead man's face,
his withered hand in hers, there sat Ungaval

Then spake he, as he stood all dripping
red, the wrath of batde in his blood and half
its fierceness blazing in his eye.

*' Never on battle plain did I see dead so
thick! I would that his old eyes had seen
a man without a cross keep word and bond.
This was last fray of his, and had he lived to
see it foughten out, he would have had a
tale to tell the chiefs he met as he burst
into Spirit-Land that would have sent their
hatchets whirling high in air as they gave war-
rior's welcome. Thou hast seen either world,
but did'st thou ever see such fight before, in
living-land or dead-land, Ungava?"

174

UNGA VA,

Then she made answer. Sitting by the
dead amid the dead, and lifting eyes of gloom
to his great face, she said :

** Fights many have I seen on sand and
ice beneath a sun that neither set nor rose,
and under lights no mortal hand e'er kindled
in the North, which burned the unseen,
rounded end of the world, — but never such
a fight as this. Above you, as you onward
hewed your way, the old-time dead stood
thick as sedge at edge of salted streams in
summer. Some were of my red race, for
they waved hatchets over head, and on their
naked bosoms, crimsoned bright, I saw the
Tortoise sign. I knew the Totem, for often
have I seen it on the breast of him, your
friend, who saved the fight on the flat banks
of Peribonka, where my father died. But

UNGAVA,

175

Others did I see, more vast of limb and huge;
a giant throng, tall, big-breasted, lofty as
pines, who, under oval shields bright as the
sun, pure gold, their edges lifted high, gazed
at you as you hewed on. And when, at last,
thou did'st cast hatchet high in air, and, bare-
headed, without guard, did'st beat them down
with heavy rifle clubbed, and all its stock and
polished woodwork into splinters flew, their
mighty swords on golden shields did clash
and such a roar went up as never lifted air
of either world before. O dreadful man, it
was a dreadful fight, and long and wild will
rise the wail from maid and wife in the skin
tents of Labrador, when from the North there
shall be bruiied down from tribe to tribt the
tidings of this fray on far Ungava. God
grant thee mercy, Trapper, when in hour of

176

UNGA VA.

need he reckons with thee for this dreadful
day."

''So be it," gravely answered he, " God
grant me mercy full and sure for sin done
here or anywhere, when in my hour of need
he reckons with me for this fray or other
red ones I have fought in. Thou art a girl,
Ungava, and can'st not understand a war-
riors soul in battle. I did give word and
bond to this old chief, my friend, who for
the length of warrior's life had walked the
vocal world of God with silent mouth, shut
off from all he loved and lived for by the
great wrong done to him at the stake by the
damned Esquimaux. Through savage circle,
as they tortured, did I break when blazed the
fire they lighted round him. This foot it was
that cast the fagots wide, when, from the

1.^

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UNGA VA.

177

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I '

thongs cut by my knife, he fell headlong
among them. For thirty years he lived seek-
ing this day, his foe and chance. Foe and
chance did he find on this far field, and
mighty batde did he make, though age had
whitened head and shrivelled hand. Here,
dying, did he put me under bond to right
the wrong which he had borne for half a life.
So stood the matter. I fought for friendship
and for right, and God will grant me mercy,
if, in batde fiercely set, I did in wrath strike
one red blow too heavy or too many. So let
it rest until I come to where the scales are
poised for warriors and for wrongs righted in
battle. I will bide issue like a Christian man,
not doubting. Now will I lift this withered
frame that once held mighty soul, and bear
It to the cave where you shall fit it for long

178

UNGA VA.

journey toward the grave which waits its com-
ing at Mi^tassinni. For there, in that dread
cave where all his fathers sleep and where
he v/ill sleep the last of all thus chambered,
must this old frame be laid : that cave
whose fame fills all the North, whose cav-
erned passages, as you know, are filled for-
ever with the voices and the murmurs of the
dead.

" So now, old friend, on back of him who
keepeth word and bond, from thy last field
and fray thou shalt be borne. A heavier bur-
den I have often carried, but never sadder.
Ah me ! ah me ! the dead g-row fast and

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ing;3.d{x,„ grow;. Jew .as life's swift. .days, fly .on !
The Queen died on my breast. The Chief
is dead. At Mamelons my sweet love sleeps.
And now full half a thousand miles I go with

'■-I

UNGA VA.

179

him who made her grave, to his own grave
at Mistassinni. Ungava, white of face but
dark of soul, die not, lest out of that old
cave in the Great Rock I shall come forth
into an empty world."

Then tenderly the empty frame which once
held mighty soul he lifted on his shoulders
broad, and, casting one long look across the
field whose fame would be his own till all
the tribes died out, he went up toward the
Conjurer's cave which stood on the high cliff
at whose worn base the great tides rush and
roar. Him toiling on, Ungava followed, white
of face but dark of soul, whose birth was out
of mystery and under doom ; whose magic
was the wonder of the North ; whose voice
the dead obeyed ; whose touch might heal
or kill ; whose serpent wand of gold was like

i8o

UNGA VA.

that rod that Aaron cast at Egypt's feet ; and
with her in the cave he left the dead, that
she, with strange preserving force, might
make it fit for distant journey to its distant
grave.

It
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CHAPTER IX.

THE FAIRIES* FAREWELL TO UNGAVA.

" 'T^ RAPPER, behold the whiteness of the
* world. How still it lies, like angel
sleeping on a couch of down plucked from
the white swan's breast. See how the moqn
wheels up her rounded orb from out the
eastern sea, which whitens at her touch to
her own beauty. The waves roll pearly pale
and fling their spray in silvery showers far
up the gleaming cliffs. The snow is whiter
as her beams fall on it, and yonder icy
islands shine like mirrors as they meet her
face turned full upon them. All things are
seen in distance, softly dim as some loved

i8i

I82

UAGAl'A.

face that gazes at us. in our dreams, through
the gauze curtains which hang but for an
hour between us, dreaming, and the spirit
world ; soon to be softly drawn aside for our
own entrance within that peaceful realm
where wait the angels, once our friends.
Hark ! to the low, soft note of mother-seals
calling with sweet interrogation to their
babes, safely sleeping in the crystal crevices
of the ice. Was ever scene more peaceful ? "
'* It is, indeed, a peaceful scene, Ungava,"
replied the Trapper, ''but barren to the eye
of one who loves the stir of life, the motion
of the world's activity, the busy hum of
going and of coming, and the glow of human
happiness. If one could people this pale
realm with buoyant motion ; set this still air
to music and make the moonlight dance,

UNGA VA.

183

then might he say in truth it were a perfect
world produced by magic."

" O, thou of bhnded eyes ! " Ungava
cried. ** I did forget thou could'st not see,
save as the orbed sentinels on guard beneath
the arches of thy heeding brows imperfectly
report to thee. What, then, if I should give
thee sight which brings the unseen world with-
in my vision, and thou should'st see the Fairies,
Sprites, and Elves, the Gnomes and Witches,
which people all this winter world, above,
around, and underneath us, with frolic and
with pleasure, as they hold nighdy festival.
Would such a sight please thee?"

"Thou art in joking mood," returned the
Trappei-, smiling. ''There are no Fairic in
the world ; that is the faith of children."
" Children ate wiser than the older folk.

t84

UNGA VA.

John Norton," returned Ungava, seriously.
" They come as spirits out of spirit-land,
and, taking forms of flesh, are subject to its
limitations. O Trapper, this earthly form
in which we live, is but imprisonment ; bond-
age to eyes which otherwise might see, and
mask to our real faces. Through flesh we
only show ourselves in glimpses. And the
fond faith of children in the marvellous, to
which they cling, is but the struggling of
their souls against forgetfulness of that bright,
animated world from which they came.
And those who laugh at them, because of
their sweet credence, are like those blinded
ones — the Gnomes of under-earth — who,
born in blindness, beyond the reach of light,
laugh at our stones of the sun, and smile at
us who do put faith in stars. Would'st thou

»i

^m J

C/JVGA VA.

185

have eyes for once, O Trapper, and see
what thou clo'st laugh at?"

" My eyes are fairly good," replied he,
laughingly. '* But if thou can'st give bet-
ter to me, then, let them come, Ungava."

" Nay, nay, thou sceptic," answered she,
•• I may not give thee eyes to see what is
beyond thy ken at present ; but I can com-
mand the spirits of the earth and air to take
such form as shall upon the lenses of thine
eyes cast full reflection, and so become ob-
jective to thy senses. They are compliant to
me. Shall I call?"

"Aye, call, Ungava, call. If childhood's
faith in spirits by any chance be real, I
would be child again," he answered, smiling.

Then, as she stood, Ungava lifted wand,
and suddenly around the two there grew a

i86

UNGAVA.

lig-ht far whiter than the moon. It came as
dawn and day would come which had no
flush of color. So came it round them as
they stood upon the cliff above the lighted
sea which darkened with the contrast. So
standing in the whiteness, Ungava called :

" Come, Spirit and Sprite,

Come laughing and dancing ;
Come out of the night,

To this white light come glancing.
Come, Elfin and Fairy ;

I form ring of magic ;
Come sing us some song,

Come dance us some dances.

"Come from sea and from land.

From deep earth and high heaveii.
See, I lift now my hand.
The signal is given.

UNGAVA. 187

From the fires of the North,

From the foam of the sea,
From your caves now come forth

And appear unto me ! "

Then, slowly, from a mound of snow that
lifted dome of whiteness near to where they
stood, a form of beauty did arise, clothed in
soft vestments woven from whitest fleece and
edged with fur of ermine. So into sight she
rose, and with her other ones of equal beauty
came and, standing in the brilliance, sang:

-I am Queen of the Snow, of the pure white

snow.
I eddy and circle and whirl as I go.
1 am Child of the Frost. I am born above

mountains ;
I mantle the forest; I cover the fountains.

i88

UNGA VA.

I waver and fall, I stream and I flow,
With the currents of wind. I am beautiful
snow !

CHORUS.

" She is Queen of the Snow, of the pure white
snow.
We flakes are her subjects : we whirl as we go ;
We eddy and circle ; we stream and we flow.
She is Child of the Frost. She is beautiful
snow !

■'rl

II.

"When flowers are all withered, and their fra-
grance is fled ;

When the wild grape is fallen, and the green
leaf is dead ;

When out of the forest the song-birds are
flown,

And the harvest is reaped from the seed that
was sown ;

UNGA VA.

189

Then, then, from the sky to the earth far below
I come down in mercy. I am beautiful snow.

CHORUS.

" When flowers are all withered, and their fra-
grance is fled ;
When the wild grape is fallen, and the green

leaf is dead ;
Then, then, from the sky to the earth far below
She comes down in mercy. She is beautiful
snow ! "

So sang the elfin ones and vanished, and
the white silence softly lay unoccupied on
cliff and sea and shingled shore.

** Call yet again," the Trapper cried. " Call
yet again, Ungava ; for never yet did mortal
eyes see sight so sweet, or mortal ears hear
sweeter song."

190

UNGA VA.

Then lifted she her wand once more, and
waved it to and fro as one who beckoning
calls. And as the wand in easy circles
moved, she, smiling, sang:

" Come, lily so white,
Come out of the night.
Come, rose-tree so red,
Bring wreath for my h'ead.
Let the odor of hill,

Let the flower of the street,
Let the Spirits of bloom

Gather here to my feet."

Then, even as she sang, out of the earth
there slowly rose a soft green lobe of mon-
strous size, and opening, lo ! The Spirit of
the Lilies, in its yellow heart stood forth
revealed, — then sang :

1 < '

UNGAVA.

191

" Have you breathed me by night, when on the

still air
Came the song of the lute, came the murmur of

prayer?
Have you breathed me at morn, when the odor-
ous trees
Were thrilled from their sleep by the kiss of the

breeze ?
Have you breathed me when mingled with mine

was the breath
Of the woman you loved, and must love till

death.
As her lips clung to yours, their caress to bestow.
While I lifted and sank on her bosom of snow ?
If you have, then you know that no other such

bloom
Blows for man or for woman 'twixt cradle and

tomb.

-St' ' .•.\i.:mm.r-

192

UAGA FA.

II.

" Oh, for love and for lovers my perfume is

shed.
I am flower of the living, I am flower of the

dead.
At the feasts of the rich, by the lovely and

fair,
I am grouped in the cups, I am twinec'. in the

hair.
By the hand of the groom, ere he sleeps by her

side.
My white leaves are sown on the couch of the

bride.
And if she be taken, on the door of her tomb.
As a sign and a symbol, he chisels my bloom.
Oh, for love and for lovers, not since the sweet

air
Hap been breathed with their sighs has there

. -en flower so fair.

UNGA VA.

193

III.

I am old as the world. When the Stars of the

morn
Sang together for joy, for their joy I was born.
In the dawn of the world, when women were

given
In their sweetness to men, I was dropped down

from heaven.
To be charm for their charms, and a potion, for

never

Did a lover love once, and not love forever.

The woman that wore me on her bosom the
night

When he knelt at her feet in love's wild de-
light.

Oh, for love and for lovers, not since the sweet

air
Has been breathed with their sighs has there
been flower so fair.

194

UNGA VA.

IV.

" When the Sons of God chose from the daughters

of men
The sweetest and fairest to be wives to them,

then

Thy race did begin. When thy first mother was

wed,
The stars were made floral to be wreath for her

head.

Since then I have come, both for bridal and

bier, .

When wand has been lifted, or song sung to

appear.
Ungava, Ungava, am I needed as breath
In the sweetness of life, or the faintness of death.-*
Oh, tell me, for ne'er since thy race breathed the

air
For love and for lovers has there been flower

so fair."

UNGAVA.

195

Then silence ; and in it lingered long the
dying strain, sinking a'^ sinks at death, per-
haps, our memory of other days, which we
in dying leave regretfully, so sweet they were
to us in living, filled to the brim like jocund
cup with wit and laughter and love's sweet
wine. Then, strangest sight that magic
ever gave to wondering mortals, — around
the two, on that high cliff, there spread a
lawn of emerald, dewy and fresh, in
which were floral mounds and clumps of
roses whose wealth of bloom weighed the
strong bushes down ; and hedges fenced it
in whose every twig was odorous, and
every bush and bloom and leaf was vital.
For from this forest sweet a group of fairy,
elfin forms, each garlanded with her own
flower, came gliding forth and made obc-

196

UNGA FA.

dience to Ungava. Then, standing round

her, sang:

"Queen of our hearts, by stream and hill,

We heard thy magic summons thrill.

Queen of our hearts, in bower and hall,

We caught the sweetness of thy call.

From Southern pool and stream afar,

We, guided by the Northern Star,

Have come our homage here to give, —

For thee we live ! For thee we live !

II.

" Last of that race, whose bridal morn
Was ushered in when wc wore born ;
Last of that race to which we gave.
To sweeten bridal bed and grave.
Our sweetest breath, our fullest bloom ;
And laid on cradle and on tomb,
The richest offering we could wreathe, —
For thee we breathe ! For thee we breathe !

UNGAVA.

III.

197

"Last of thy race! thy eyes of night
Hold in their depths the farther sight.
We are of earth, and may not know
The feeling in thy breast of sno.w.
We wait thy will. We do not dare
To crown thy head, to wreath thy hair,
Nor garland waist with bridal zone.
Still do we live for thee alone.

•. ■

IV.

" Last of thy race ! perchance 'twill be,
That we thy face no more shall see.
At Mamelons, on breast of snow,
A snow-white lily lieth low;
There on that dreadful hill of fate
Sweet Atla saw her morning break;
But know, in life or death, that we
Still breathe for thee! Still breathe for thee!"

198

l/AVA VA.

Then died the tender strain, and singers
faded with the song, and once again the
white silence softly lay unoccupied on cliff
and sea and shingled shore. Then she, as
waking out of trance, raised eyes of tender
gloom to his and said :

" Trapper, behold the sky ! What eye
may count the stars which to the thought-
ful soul do punctuate its spaces with interro-
gations ? Can'st thou believe that all those
shining points which powder it with golden
dust are worlds, inhabited like ours ? See
how the o'erarching dome is all bespangled
with fretted fire. What noble roofment has
this little earth thus canopied v ith glory!
Tell me hast thou a star in yonder sky
which thou do'st call thy own ? A star linked
with a loved one's face ? "

UNGAVA.

199

" Nay, nay, I am not fanciful, Ungava. I
am a plain, blunt man. I know my friends.
My foes know me. My loves are simple. I
am a man of fact, not fancy. I eat my food.
I quench my thirst. I love my friend. I hate
my foe. Word and bond keep 1 unto death.
The rest I leave to God."

" But, Trapper, lift thou thine eyes again.
Select some star, distant or nigh, and to it
link a name — the name of her thou lovest
over all. Let its bright ray be to thine eyes
a face, and tell me of her. I would know
the woman thou do'st love."

"The woman I do love, Ungava, lives not
in any star. She lives — I know not where.
I know not where to find her when I die. I
only know she loves me with a queenly love ;
and when my eye grows dim and all the

200

C/JVGA VA.

trail fades out, I trust her faithful hand will
guide me on. I know no further, and I have
no further hope."

'* But, Trapper, if thy love is dead and
gone — forever gone — and where she is thou
knowest not, nor how to find her, nor
whether you and she shall ever meet. If all
is dim, uncertain, dubious, — then thou ca^/st
surely love some other one — some fair, sweet
one, who should give all her soul to thee ;
be comfort to thy days, and co thy face lift
eyes of worship because to her thou art as
God."

Then said the Trapper, gravely :

" Ungava, of little loves man may have

many, born of his vagrant moods or transient

passions ; for man is as the earth, and out of

him, prolific, spring many growths, some sweet,

UNGA VA.

20I

some foul, which, whether sweet or foul, arc
only of a day, and die. But one great love,
and only one, may be to man who stands
large natured and with powers too strong to
die. Such love is central to him. Rooted in
his soul it lives with it forever, and all the
sweetness and the strength of him are in
it as the sap is in the tree. So flower and
fruit come from it, and such high ornament
as make him glorious evermore. Such love
did come to me, and in my soul I feel it
growing more and more. One love I have,
and only one. Another one I may not have,
nor wish. It fills me as a cup is filled with
water when its brim is wet. I drink of it,
and, drinking the sweet draught, I thirst
not, and I need no more."

And as he spake, yea, as the words were

202

UNGA VA.

on his lips, across the moon there grew a
cloud, and darkened all the world. Black
grew the sea, and heaving without cause
from out the darkness came a moan, and a
great wave rode in upon the darkness, and
underneath the cliff broke with a fall that
shook it ; then, silence.

Then said Ungava, speaking softly in the
gloom :

*' Trapper, thy heart is fixed, and fixed
too is my fate. Within the cave for seven
days will I do solemn service. Then enter
in, and thou shalt find him ready for the
trail by which his body thou shalt bring to
Mistassinni. There wilt thou find me by the
cave that none may enter. There, with the
mighty of his race and mine, shall he find
sepulture. I would not change thy stead-

UNGA VA.

203

fast soul. It is enough for me as woman
to have known thee and have loved. Thou
art of ancient time. To word and bond,
and nobler yet to love, living or dead, thy
soul holds true. Long is the trail, but heart
of truth makes tireless foot. Once more at
Mistassinni we must meet. There shall we
come to fate and its sad end. There shall
we make last parting; and such parting will
it be as never on this earth was made before !
So fare thee well."

So said she, and then vanished. Then
the cloud passed, the moon came forth, and
on the crest of that high rock above the
sleeping sea, he stood alone, while the white
silence once more softly lay unoccupied on
cliff and sea and shingled shore. And as he
through the solemn silence slowly downward

■^

■< 11

204

UNGA VA.

went he murmured to himself: "Die not,
Ungava, lest from that cave in the Great
Rock I shall come forth into an empty world.
Alas ! Alas ! I ' would my feet might never
tread the trail that leads to Mistassinni."

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