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Un des symboies suivents oppsrettre sur le derniAre imege de cheque microfiche, selon le ces: le symbols — »• signifie "A SUIVRE", le eymbole ▼ signifie "FIN". ly/leps, pletes, cherts, etc., mey be filmed et different reduction retios. Those too lerge to be entirely included in one exposure ere filmed beginning in the upper left hsnd corner, left to right end top to bottom, es meny fremes es required. The following diegrems illustrote the method: Les csrtes. plenches, tebleeux, etc., peuvent Atre filmAs k des teux de reduction diff Arents. Lorsque le document est trop grend pour Atre reproduit en un seul clichA, il est film* k pertir de I'engle supArieur geuche, de geuche i droite, et de heut en bee, en prenent le nombre d'imeges nAceeeeire. Les diegremmes suivents illustrent le mAthode. 12 3 nx 1 2 3 4 8 e THE HIAWATHA LEGENDS Itfi ^ « H,..i, ,.,.^.- I V THE MYTH OP HIAWATHA, AND OTHER ORAL LEGENDS, MYTHOLOGIC AND ALLEGORIC, OF TUB NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. BY I HENRY E. SCHOOLCRAFT, IX. D. t PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. LONDON! TRUBNER & CO. 1856. r Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year lSo6, by HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. .. v^*/ •-•%.■ \^ -s, ■ •- f».' TO PROF. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. SIR:— Porrait me to dedicate to you, this volume of Indian myths and legends, derived from the story-telling circle of the native wigwams. Tliat they indicate the jiossession, by the Vesperic tribes, of mental resources of a very character- istic kind — furnishing, in fact, a new point from which to judge the race, and to excite intellectual sympathies, you have most felicitously shown in your poem of Hiawatha. Not only so, but you have demonstrated, by this pleasing series of pictures of Indian life, sentiment, and invention, that the theme of the native lore reveals one of the true sources of our literary independence. Greece and Rome, Kng- land and Italy, have so long funiished, if they have not exhausted, the field of poetic culture, that it •, at least, refreshing to find both in theme and metre, something new. Very truly yours, HENRY R. SCUOOLCRAFT. 1* PREFACE. There is but one consideration of much mo- ment necessary to be premised respecting these legends and myths. It is this: they are versions of oral relations from the lips of the Indians, and are transcripts of the thought and invention of the aboriginal mind. As such, they furnish illustra- tions of Indian character and opinions on subjects which the ever-cautious and suspicious minds of this people have, heretofore, concealed. They place the man altogether in a new phasis. They reflect him as he is. They show us what he be- lieves, hopes, fears, wishes, expects, worships, lives for, dies for. They are always true to the Indian manners and customs, opinions and theories. They never rise above them; they never sink below them. Placing him in almost every possible posi- tion, as a hunter, a warrior, a magician, a pow-wow, a medicine man, a meda, a husband, a father, a friend, a foe, a stranger, a wild singer of songs to monedos or fetishes, a trembler in terror of demons VIU PREFACE. i and wood genii, and of ghosts, witches, and sor- cerers — now in the enjoyment of plenty in feasts — now pale and weak with abstinence in fasts; now transforming beasts and birds, or plants and trees into men, or men into beasts by necromancy ; it is impossible not to perceive what he perpetually thinks, believes, and feels. The very language of the man is employed, and his vocabulary is not enlarged by words and phrases foreign to it. Other sources of information depict his exterior habits and outer garb and deportment; but in these legends and myths, we perceive the interior man, and are made cognizant of the secret workings of his mind, and heart, and soul. To make these collections, of which the portions now submitted are but a part, the leisure hours of many seasons, passed in an official capacity in the solitude of the wilderness far away from society, have been employed, with the study of the lan- guages, and with the very best interpreters. They have been carefully translated, written, and re- written, to obtain their true spirit and meaning, expunging passages, where it was necessary to avoid tediousness of narration, triviality of cir- cumstance, tautologies, gross incongruities, and vulgarities; but adding no incident and drawing no conclusion, which the verbal narration did not J PREFACE. ix imperatively require or sanction. It was impos- sible to mistake the import of terms and phrases where the means of their analysis were ample. If the style is sometimes found to be bald, and of jejune simplicity, the original is characteristically so. Few adjectives are employed, because there are few in the original.* The Indian effects his purposes, almost entirely, by changes of the verb and demonstrative pronoun, or by adjective inflec- tions of the substantive. Good and bad, high and low, black and white, are in all cases employed in a transitive sense, and with strict relation to the objects characterized. The Indian compound terms are so descriptive, so graphic, so local, so charac- terizing, yet so flexible and transpositive, that the legends derive no little of their characteristic fea- tures as well as melody of utterance from these traits. Sometimes these terms cannot be literally translated, and they cannot, in these cases, be left out without damaging the stories. With regard to the thought-work of the legends, those who have deemed the Indians exclusively a Id )t * If Edwards the younger, to whom the Mohican was fami- liar from his childhood, could say, that he doubted whether there were any true adjectives in that language, it can easily be imagined that the subtlety of the transitive principle had not been sufficiently analyzed ; but the remark is here quoted in relation to the paucity of adjectives. PREFACE. cruel and blood-thirsty race, always seeking re- venge, always invoking evil powers, will not be disappointed that giants, enchanters, demons, and dark supernatural agencies, should form so large a part of the dramatis personse. Surprise has been expressed,* that the kindlier affections come in for notice at all, and particularly at the occurrence of such refined and terse allegories as the origin of Indian Corn, Winter and Spring, and the poetic conception of the Celestial Sisters, &c. I can only add, that my own surprise was as great when these traits were first revealed. And the trait may be quoted to show how deeply the tribes have wan- dered away from the type of the human race in which love and affection absorb the heart; and how little, indeed, we know of their mental cha- racter. .« M When the volumes of Algio Researches, in 1839, were published, the book-trade had hardly awak- ened to that wide and diffusive impulse which it has since received. No attention had been given to topics so obscure as inquiries into the character of the Indian mind — if, indeed, it was thought the Indian had any mind at all. It was still supposed that the Indian was, at all times and in all places, " a stoic of the woods," always statuesque, always * Vide Criterion, No. XXIII. p. 301. PREFACE. zi formal, always passionless, always on stilts, always speaking in metaphors, a cold embodiment of bravery, endurance, and savage heroism. Writers depicted him as a man who uttered nothing but high principles of natural right, who always ha- rangued eloquently, and was ready, with unmoved philosophy on all occasions, to sing his death-song at the stake to show the world how a warrior should die. These legends have been out of print several years. They are now reproduced, with additional legendary lore of this description from the port- folios of the author, in a revised, and, it is believed, a more terse, condensed, and acceptable form, both in a literary and business garb. The songs and chants which form so striking a part of the original legends, and also the poetic use of aboriginal ideas, are transferred to the end of the volume, and will thus, it is apprehended, relieve and simplify the text. HENEY R. SCHOOLCRAFT. WAsumoTON, D. C, April 28, 1856. ir*^ "WfeWWiip^^ % CONTENTS. Hiawatha ; or, Manabozho ..... Paup-puk-keewiss ...... Osseo; or, the Son of tli« EviMiiutr Star Kwasiiid ; or, the tearfully Strong Man The Jeehi ; or, Two Ghosts ..... lagoo ......... Sliawondasee ....... I'ui'k Wudj Iniiiees ; or, the Vanishing Little Men I'ezhiu and Wabose ; or, the Lynx and Hare Peboan and Seegwun. An Allegory »»f Winter and Spring Mon-daw-min ; or, the Origin of Indian Corn Nezhik-e-wa-wa-sun ; or, the Lone Lightning Tho Ak Uk O Jeesh ; or, the Groundhog Family . Opeechee ; or, the Origin of tho Robin . Shingebiss. An Allegory of Self-reliance The Star Family ; or, tho Celestial Sisters OjeegAnnung; cr, the Summer-Maker Chileeli ; or, tlie Red Lover Bheem, tlH3 forsaken Boy, or Wolf Brother . Mishemokwa ; or, the War witli the Hipantic IVcar wear- ing the precious prize of tho Necklace of Wampum, or tlie Origin of the Small Bhwk liear The Red Swan . Tau-wau-cbee-hezkaw : or, tlio White Fwather 2 52 71 77 81 85 88 90 95 96 09 105 107 109 in 11(1 121 12iJ 142 180 r f*" "SBT XIV CONTENTS. Taue Pauguk, and the raytliological interpretation of Hiawatha 188 li'iia, the Wanderer; or, Magic Bundle .... 194 Mislioslia ; or, the Magician of Lake Suix;rior . . 202 J'eeta Kway, the Foam- Woman 213 Pali-hah-undootah, the Red Head .... 216 The White Htone Canoe 223 Onaiazo, the Sky-Walker. A Legend of a Visit to the Sun 228 Bosh-kwa-dosh ; or, the Mastodon .... 233 The Sun-Cat(dier ; or, the Boy who set a Snare for the Sun. A Myth of the Origin of the Dormouse . . 239 Wa-wa-he-zo-win ; or, the Swing on the Pictured Rocks of Lake Superior 243 Mukakee Mindemoea ; or, the Toad-Woman . . 246 Eroneniera ; or, an Indian Visit to the Great Spirit . 251 The Six Hawks ; or, Broken Wing .... 258 Weeng, the Spirit of Sleep 262 Addik Kum Maig ; or, the Origin of the White Fish . 265 Bokwewa ; or, the Humphack Magician . . . 269 Aggodagauda and his Daughter ; or, the Man with liis Leg tied up 274 Iosco ; or, the Prairie Boys' Visit to the Sun and Moon 278 Th(! Knchanted Moccasins 293 Leolinau. A Chippewa Tale 299 Wild Notes of tht' I'ihblgwun . 303 i& TAiiK 188 1!)4 . 202 . 213 . 216 . 223 n 228 . 233 239 i^s 303 * INTRODUCTION. Hitherto, Indian opinion, on abstract subjects, has been a sealed book. It has been impossible to extract the truth from his evasive replies. If asked his opinion of religion in the abstract, he knows not the true mean- ing of the term. His ideas of the existence of a Deity are vague, at best ; and the lines of separation between it and necromancy, medical magic, and demonology are too faintly separated to allow him to speak with discrimi- nation. The best reply, as to his religious views, his mythology, his cosmogony, and his general views as to the mode and manifestations of the government and providences of God, are to be found in his myths and legends. When he assembles his lodge-circle, to hear stories, in seasons of leisure and retirement in the depths of the forest, he recites precisely what he believes on these subjects. That restlessness, suspicion, and mis-, trust of motive, which has closed his mind to inquiry, is at rest here. If he mingles fiction with history, there l>llittle of the latter, and it is very easy to see where fa^lliltory ends and fiction begins. While he amuses his hearers with tales of the adventures of giants and dwarfs, and the conflicts of Manito with Manito, fairies and en- chanters, monsters and demons, he also throws in some few grains of instruction, in the form of allegory and fable, which enable us to perceive glimpses of the heart and its allectiuns. XVI INTRODUCTION. It is also by Iiis myths that wc arc al)le to trace con- nections with the human family in other parts of the world. Yet, where the analogies are so general, there is a constant liability to mistakes. Of these foreign analogies of myth lore, the least tangible, it is believed, is that which has been suggested with the Scandinavian mythology. That mythology is of so marked and pecu- liar a character, that it has not been distinctly traced out of the great circle of tribes of the Indo-Germanic family. Odin, and his terrific pantheon of war-gods and social deities, could only exist in the dreary lati- tudes of storms and fire, which produce a Hecla and a Maelstrom. These latitudes have invariably produced nations, whose influence has been felt in an elevating power over the world ; and whose tracks have every- where been marked by the highest evidences of in- ductive intellect, centralizing energy, and practical wis- dom and forecast. From such a source the Indian could have derived none of his vague symbolisms and mental idiosyncrasies, which have left him, as he is found to-day, without a government and without a God. Far more probable is it, in seeking for analogies to his mythology and cosmogony, to resort to the era of that primal reconstruction of the theory of a Deity, when the human philosophy in the oriental world ascribed the godship of the universe to the subtile, ineffable, and indestructible essences of fire and light, as revealed i'l^^jk the sun. Such were the errors of the search for divllil^ " truth, power, and a controllable Deity, which early de- -^^ vcloped themselves in the dogmas of the Assyrians, Egyptians, rersiaiis, and wandering hordes of Northern Asia. Authors inform us that the worship of the sun lies at the foundation of .ill the ancient mythologies, deei>ly INTRODUCTION. XVll con- f the there reign eved, avian pecu- raccd manic •-gods y lati- and a >duced vating every- of in- :al wis- Iiidian IS and he is God. to his f that when cril)ed le, and lied in .l^fP |rly de- yrians, jrthern lies at (deeply enveloped as they are, when followed over Asia Minor and Europe, in symbolic and lingnistical subtleties and refinements. The symbolical fires erected on tem- ples and altars to Baal, Chemosh, and Moloch, burned brightly in the valley of the Euphrates,* long before the pyramids of Egypt were erected, or its priestly- hoarded hieroglyphic wisdom resulted in a phonetic alphabet. In Persia, these altars were guarded and religiously fed by a consecrated body of magical priest- hood, who recognized a Deity in the essence of an eter- nal fire and a world-pervading light. The same dogma, derived eastwardly and not west- wardly through Europe, was fully installed at Atacama and Cuzco, in Peru, at Cholulu, on the magnificent and volcano-lighted peaks of Mexico; and along the fertile deltas of the Mississippi valley. Altar-beds for a sacred fire, lit to the Great Spirit, under the name and symbolic form of Ceezis, or the sun, where the frankincense of the nicotiana was offered, with hymns and genuflections, have been discovered, in many in- stances, under the earth-heaps and artificial mounds and places of sepulture of the ancient inhabitants. In- telligent Indians yet living, among the North American tribes, point out the symbol of the sun, in their ancient muzzinabikons, or rock-inscriptions, and also amid the idiographic tracery and bark-scrolls of the hieratic and magical medicine songs. ^ "With a cosmogony which ascribes the creation of the Geezha Monedo, who is symbolized by the sun, the myth of Hiawatha is almost a necessary consequence in carrying out his mundane intentions to the tribes, who believed themselves to be peculiar objects of hia * Gross, 2* r XVlll INTllODUCTION. love and benevolence. This myth is noticed by the earliest explorers of this continent, who have bestowed attention on the subject, under the various names of Inigorio, Yoskilia, Taren-Yawagon, Atahentsic, Mana- bozho, and Micabo. A mythology appears indispensable to a rude and ignorant race like the Indians. Their vocabulary is nearly limited to objects which can be seen and handled. Abstractions are only reached by the introduction of some term which restores the idea. The Deity is a mystery, of whose power they must chiefly judge by the phenomena before them. Every- thing is mysterious which is not understood; and, unluckily, they understand little or nothing. If any phenomenon, or existence not before them, is to be described, the language must be symbolic. The result is, that the Indian languages are peculiarly the lan- guages of symbols, metaphors, and figures. Without this feature, everything not in the departments of eating, drinking, and living, and the ordinary trans- actions of the chase and forest, would not be capable of description. When the Great Sacred White Hare of Heaven, the Manabozho of the Algrics, and Hiawatha of the Iro- quois, kills the Great Misshikinabik, or prince of ser- pents, it is understood that he destroys. the great power of evil. It is a deity whom he destroys, a sort of Typhon or Ahriman in the system. It is immediately found, on going to his lodge, that it is a man, a hero, ' a chief, who is sick, and he must be cured by simples and magic songs like the rest of the Indians. He is surrounded with Indian doctors, who sing magic songs. He has all the powers of a deity, and, when he dies, the land is subjected to a flood ; from which Hiawatha alone escapes. This play between the zoonic and mortal INTRODUCTION. XIX shapes of heroes must constantly be observed, in high as well as in ordinary characters. To have the name of an animal, or bird, or reptile, is to have his powers. When Pena runs, on a wager of life, with the Great Sorcerer, he changes himself sometimes into a partridge, and sometimes into a wolf, to outrun him. The Indian's necessities of language at all times re- quire personifications and linguistic creations. He cannot talk on abstract topics without them. Myths and spiritual agencies are constantly required. The ordinary domestic life of the Indian is described in plain words and phrases, but whatever is mysterious or ab- stract must be brought under mythological figures and influences. Birds and quadrupeds must be made to talk. Weeng is the spirit of somnolency in the lodge stories. He is provided with a class of little invisible emissaries, who ascend the forehead, armed with tiny war-clubs, with which they strike the tem])les, pro- ducing sleep. Pauguk is the personification of death. He is armed with a bow and arrows, to execute his mortal functions. Hosts of a small fairy-like creation, called Ininees, little men, or Pukwudj Ininees, vanish- ing little men, inhabit cliff's, and picturesque and ro- mantic scenes. Another class of marine or water spirits, called Nebunabaigs, occupy the rivers and lakes. There is an articulate voice in all the varied sounds of the forest — the groaning of its branches, and the whis- pering of its leaves. Local Manitos, or fetishes, in- habit every grove; and hence he is never alone. To facilitate allusion to the braggadocio, or the extravagant in observation, the mythos of lagoo is added to his vocabulary. The North and the South, the East and the West, are prefigured as the brothers of Hiawatha, or the laught('r-i)rovokiiig Manuljoy.ho. It XX INTUODUCTION. is impossible to peruse the Indian myths and legends without perceiving the governing motives of his rea- sons, hopes, wishes, and fears, the principles of his actions, and his general belief in life, death, and im- mortality. ,He is no longer an nigma. They com- pletely unmask the man. They lay open his most secret theories of the phenomena of spirit life ; of necromancy, witchcraft, and demonology ; and, in a special manner, of the deep and wide-spread prevalence throughout the world of Indian opinion, of the theory and power of local Manitos. It is here that the Indian prophet, powwow, or jossakeed, throws off his mask, and the Indian religionist discloses to us the secrets of his fasts and dreams. His mind completely unbends itself, and the man lives over, in imagination, both the sweet and the bitter scenes of a hunter's life. To him the clouds, which chase each other, in brilliant hues and constanly changing forms, in the heavens, constitute a species of wild pictography, which he can interpret. The phenomena of storms and meteorological changes con- nect themselves, in the superstitious mind, with some engrossing mythos or symbol. The eagle, the kite, and the hawk, who fly to great heights, are deemed to be conversant with the aerial powers, who are believed to have an influence over men, and hence the great regard which is paid to the flight of these birds in their war and hieratic songs. Fictitious tales of imaginary Indian life, and poems on the aboriginal model, have been in vogue almost from the days of the discovery. But what has been fancied as life in the forest, has had no little resemblance to those Utopian schemes of government and happiness which rather denote the human mind run mad, than sup- ply models to guide judgment or please philosophy. In INTRODUCTION. XXI general, these attempts have held up high principles of thought and action in a people, against truth, observa- tion, and common sense. High heroic action, in the Indian, is the result of personal education in endurance, supported by pride of character; and if he can ever be said to rejoice in suffering, it is in the spirit of a taunt to his enemy. This error had been so long prevalent, that when, in 1839, the author submitted a veritable collection of legends and myths from the Indian wig- wams, which reflected the Indian life as it is, it was difficult, and almost impossible, to excite interest in the theme, in the trade. He went to England and the continent, in hopes of better success. But, although philanthropists and men of letters and science appre- ciated the subject, as historical elements in the history of the human mind, the booksellers of London, Paris, Leipsic, and Frankfort-on-the-Main, to whose notice the subject was brought, exhibited very nearly the same nonchalant tone ; and had it not been for the attractive poetic form in which one of our most popular and suc- cessful bards has clothed some of these wild myths, the period of their reproduction is likely to have been still further postponed. In now submitting so large a body of matter, respect- ing the mental garniture of a people whose fate and fortunes have excited so much interest, the surprise is not that we know so little of their mental traits, but that, with so little research and inquiry, we should know anything at all. They have only been regarded as the geologist regards boulders, being not only out of place, but with not half the sure guides and principles of de tcrmining where they came from, and where the undis- turbed original strata remain. The wonder is not that, as boulder-tribes, they have not adopted our industry xxu INTRODUCTION. and Christianity, and stoutly resisted civilization, in all its phases, but that, in spite of such vital truths, held up by all the Colonies and States, and by every family of thera, they have not long since died out and become extinguished. No English colony could live three or four centuries, in any isolated part of the world, without the plough, the school-book, and the Bible; it would die out, of idleness and ignorance. If one century has kicked the Indian in America harder than another, it is because the kicks of labor, art, and knowledge are always the hardest, and in the precise proportion to the contiguity of the object. By obtaining — what these legends give — a sight of the inner man, we are better able to set a just estimate on his character, and to tell what means of treatment are best suited for his reclamation. That forbearance, kindness, and teaching are best adapted to the object, there is no doubt. We are counselled to forgive an erring brother seventy and seven times. If, as some maintain, wrongfully, we believe, the Indian is not, in a genealogical sense, of the same stock, yet is he not, in a moral sense, a brother? If the knowledge of his story-telling faculty has had any tendency to correct the evils of false popular opinion respecting him, it has been to show that the man talks and laughs like the rest of the human family ; that it is fear that makes him suspicious, and ignorance superstitious; that he is him- self the dupe of an artful forest priesthood; and that his cruelty and sanguinary fury are the effects of false notions of fame, honor, and glory. He is always, and at all times and places, under the strong influence of hopes and fears, true or false, by which he is carried for- ward in the changing scenes of war and peace. Kind- ness never fails to soften and meliorate his feelings, -% INTRODUCTION. XXIII and harshness, injury, and contempt to harden and blunt them. Above all, it is shown that, in the recesses of the forest, he devotes a portion of his time to do- mestic and social enjoyment, in which the leading fea- ture is the relation of traditionary legends and tales. Heroes and heroines, giants and dwarfs, spirits, Mone- tos or local gods, demons, and deities pass in review. It is chiefly by their misadventures and violations of the Indian theories, that the laugh is sought to be raised. The dramatis personcB are true transcripts of Indian life ; they never rise above it, or express a sentiment or opinion which is not true to Indian society; nor do they employ words which are not known to their vo- cabulary. It is in these legends that we obtain their true views of life and death, their religion, their theory of the state of the dead, their mythology, their cos- mogony, their notions of astrology, and often of their biography and history — for the boundaries between history and fiction are vaguely defined. These stories are often told, in seasons of great severity in the depth of the winter, to an eagerly listening group, to while away the hour, and divert attention from the pressing claims of hunger. Under such circumstances to dole away time which has no value to him, and to cheat hunger and want, is esteemed a trait of philosophy. If there is a morsel to eat in the lodge, it is given to the children. The women imitate this stoicism and devotion of the men. Not a tone in the narration tells of dismay in their domestic circumstances, not an eye acknowledges the influence of grief. Tell me whether the dignity of this position is not worthy of remem- brance. The man, it may be, shall pass away from the earth, but these tributes to the best feelings of the heart w ill remain, while these simple tales and legendary crca- XXIV INTRODUCTION. tions constitute a new point of character by whicu he shonld be judged. They are, at least, calculated to modify our views of the man, who is not always a savage, not always a fiend. i i 1 II I A ^y A T II A OR, MANABOZHO. iM The myth of the Indians of a remarkable pcrsonaj^e, who is called Manabozho by the Algonquins, and Hia- watha by the Iroquois, who was tlie instructor of the tribes in arts and knowledge, was first related to me in 1822, by the Chippewas of Lake Superior. lie is re- garded as the messenger of the Great Spirit, sent down to them in the character of a wise man, and a prophet. But he comes clothed with all the attributes of hu- manity, as well as the power of performing miracu- lous deeds. lie adapts himself perfectly to their man- ners, and customs, and ideas, lie is brought up from a child among them, lie is made to learn their mode of life. He takes a wife, builds a lodge, hunts and fishes like the rest of them, sings his war songs and medicine songs, goes to war, has his triumphs, Ims his friends and foes, sulTers, wants, hungers, is in dread or joy — and, in fine, undergoes all the vicissitudes of his fellows. His miraculous gifts and powers are always Il Sk 'ii»>j <■ I iii 1 1 I lyp luiii^iiHi anuii i| HI .. i|ijjp^p||qr' U! < 14 HIAWATHA } \ ! I ! If . il! adapted to his situation. When he is swallowed by a great fish, with his canoe, he escapes by the exertion of these powers, but always, as much as possible, in accordance with Indian maxims and means. He is provided with a magic canoe, which goes where it is bid; yet, in his fight with the great wampum prince, he is counselled by a woodpecker to know where the vulnerable point of his antagonist lies. He rids the earth of monsters and giants, and clears away wind- falls, and obstructions to the navigation of streams. But he does not do these feats by miracles; he employs strong men to help him. When he means to destroy the great serpents, he changes himself into an old tree, and stands on the beach till they come out of the water to bask in the sun. Whatever man could do, in strength or wisdom, he could do. But he never does things above the comprehension or belief of his people ; and whatever else he is, he is always true to the cha- racter of an Indian. This myth is one of the most general in the Indian country. It is the prime legend of their mythology. He is talked of in every winter lodge — for the winter season is the only time devoted to such narrations. The moment the leaves come out, stories cease in the lodge. The revival of spring in the botanical world opens, as it were, so many eyes and ears to listen to the tales of men ; and the Indian is far too shrewd a man, and too firm a believer in the system of invisible spirits by which he is f.nrrounded, to commit himself by say- ing a word which they, with their acute senses on the opening of the spring, can l)e offended at. He leaps over extensive regions of country like an ignis fatuus. He appears suddenly like an avater, or saunters over weary wastes a poor and starving OR, MANABOZHO. 15 lowed by a he exertion possible, in ns. He is where it is um prince, where the [e rids the I way wind- er streams, he employs to destroy n old tree, out of the 3uld do, in neyer does lis people; p the cha- he Indian lythology. he winter arrations. se in the cal world en to the 'd a man, le spirits by sny- s on the itry like avater, Istnrving fm hunter. His voice is at one moment deep and so- norous as a thunder-clap, and at another clothed with the softness of feminine supplication. Scarcely any two persons agree in all the minor circum- stances of the story, and scarcely any omit the leading traits. The several tribes who speak dialects of the mother language from which the narration is taken, diifer, in like manner, from each other in the particulars of his exploits. His birth and parentage are mysterious. Story says his grandmother was the daughter of the moon. Having been married but a short time, her rival attracted her to p grape-vine swing on the banks of a lake, and by one bold e.xcrtion pitched her into its centre, from which she fell through to the earth. Having a daughter, the fruit of her lunar marriage, she was very careful in instructing her, from early infancy, to beware of the west wind, and never, in stooping, to expose herself to its influence. In some unguarded moment this j)recaution was neg- lected. In an instant, the gale accomplished its Tar- quinic purpose. Yery little is told of his early boyhood. We take him up in the following legend at a period of advanced youth, when we find him living with his grandmother. And at this time he possessed, althotigh he had not yet exercised, all the anomalous and contradictory powers of body and mind, of mauship and divinity, which he afterward evinced. The timidity and rawness of the boy (juickiy gave way in the courageous developments of the man. He soon evinced the sagacity, cunning, perseverance, and heroic courage which constitute the admiration of the Indians. And he relied largely upon these in the gratification of an ambitious, vain- glorious, and mischief-loving disposition. In wisdom 16 HIAWATHA; a ■ 1 K^ and enerp^y he was superior to any one who had ever lived before. Yet he was simple when circumstances required it, and was ever the object of tricks and ridi- cule in others. He could transform himself into any animal he pleased, being man or manito, as cireura- stances rendered necessary. He often conversed with animals, fowls, reptiles, and fishes. He deemed him- self related to them, and invariably addressed them by the term "ray brother;" and one of his greatest re- sources, when hard pressed, was to change himself into their shapes. Manitoes constitute the great power and absorbing topic of Indian lore. Their agency is at once the groundwork of their mythology and deraonology. They supply the machinery of their poetic inventions, and the belief in their multitudinous existence exerts a powerful influence upon the lives and character of individuals. As their manitoes are of all imaginary kinds, grades, and powers, benign and malicious, it seems a grand conception among the Indians to create a personage strong enough in his necromantic and spiritual powers to baffle the most malicious, beat the stoutest, and overreach the most cunning. In carry- ing out this conception in the following myth, they have, however, rather exhibited an incarnation of the power of Evil than of the genius of Benevolence. Manabozho was living with his grandmother near the edge of a wide prairie. On this prairie he first saw animals and birds of every kind. He there also saw exhibitions of divine power in the sweeping tempests, in the thunder and lightning, and the various shades of light and darkness, which form a never-ending scene of observation. Every new sight he beheld in the heavens was a subject of remark ; every new animal or bird OR, MANABOZHO. It had ever rcumstanees vs and ridi- If into any as circura- versed with jeraed him- jd them by rreatest re- limself into i absorbing t once the enionology. inventions, ?nce exerts haraeter of imaginary alieious, it s to create antic and , beat the In carry- nyth, they lion of the lence. ther near |e first saw also saw Itempcsts, shades of scene of heavens or bird I an ol)ject of deep interest; and every sound uttered by the animal creation a new lesson, which he was expected to learn. He often trembled at what he heard and saw. To this scene liis grandmother sent him at an early age to watch. The first sound he heard was that of the owl, at which he was greatly terrified, and, quickly de- scending the tree he had climbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge. " Xoko ! Noko !"* he cried, " I have heard a mouedo." She laughed at his fears, and asked him what kind of a noise it made. He answered, "It makes a noise like this : Ko-ko-ko-ho." She told him that he was young and foolish ; that what he had heard was only a bird, deriving its name from the noise it made. He went back and continued his watch. While there, he thought to himself, " It is singular that I am so simple, and my grandmother so wise, and that I have neither father nor mother. I have never heard a word about them. I must ask and find out." He went home and sat down silent and dejected. At length his grandmother asked him, "Manabozho, what is the matter witii you ?" He answered, " I wish you would tell me whether I have any parents living, and who my relatives are." Knowing that he was of a wicked and revengeful disposition, she dreaded telling him the story of his parentage, but he insisted on her compliance. " Yes," she said, "you have a father and three brothers living. Your mother is dead. She was taken without the consent of her parents by your father the West. Your brothers are the North, East, and South, and, being older than yourself, your father has given them * An Jibhrt'viated term fur " my grandiuotlu'r," derived from O-l: > ; : ^iL 18 JIIAAVATIIA ; great power with the winds, according to their names. You are the youngest of his children. I have nou- rished you from your infancy, for your mother died in giving you birth, owing to the ill treatment of your father. I have no relations besides you this side of the planet in which I was born, and from which I was pre- cipitated by female jealousy. Your mother >vas my only child, and you are my only hope." lie appeared to be rejoiced to hear that his father was living, for he had already thought in his heart to try and kill him. He told his grandmother he should set out in the morning to visit him. She said it was a long distance to the place where Ningabiun* lived. But that had no effect to stop him, for he had now attained manhood, possessed a giant's height, and was endowed by nature with a giant's strength and power. He set out and soon reached the place, for every step he took covered a large surface of ground. The meet- ing took place on a high mountain in the West. His father was very happy to see him. He also appeared pleased. They spent some days in talking with each other. One evening Manabozho asked his father what he was most afraid of on earth. He replied, " No- thing." " ]Jut is there not something you dread here? tell me." At last his father said, yielding, "Yes, there is a black stone found in such a place.- It is the only thing earthly I am afraid of; for if it should hit me or any part of my body, it would injure me very much." He said this as a secret, and in return asked hrs son the same question. Knowing each other's power, although the son's was limited, the father feared him * Tliia is a torm for tho wostwind. It is a dorivative from Kaliian-ooiit/, tlw proper appellation for tlie ofcitk'nt. OR, MANABOZOllO. H) leir names. have nou- ler died in nt of your side of the I was pre- BF was my his father lis heart to r he should id it was a un* lived. e had now it, and was ind power. every step The meet- ►''est. His appeared with each ther what ed, " No- ead here? es, there the only hit me or y much." |1 hrs son power, ired him Itivo from on account of his great strength. Manabozho an- swered, " Nothing I" intending to avoid the question, or to refer to some harmless object as the one of which he was afraid. He was asked again and again, and answered, " Nothing !" But the West said, " There must be something you are afraid of." "AVell I I will tell you," says Manabozho, " what it is." But, before he would pronounce the word, he affected great dread, "/e-ee — le-ee — it is — it is," said he, " yeo 1 yeo !* I cannot name it; I am seized with a dread." The West told him to banish his fears. He commenced again, in a strain of mock sensitiveness repeating the same words ; at last he cried out, "It is the root of the apukway-\ He appeared to be exhausted by the effort of pronouncing the word, in all this skilfully acting a studied part. Some time after he observed, " I will get some of the black rock." The West said, "Far be it from you ; do not do so, my son." He still persisted. " Well," said the father, "I will also get the apukwa root." Manabozho immediately cried out, ^* Kago ! Kago .^"1 atfecting, as before, to be in great dread of it, but really wishing, by this course, to urge on the West to procure it, that he might draw him into combat. He went out and got a large piece of the black rock, and brought it home. The West also took care to bring the dreaded root. In the course of conversation he asked his father whether he had been the cause of his mother's death. The answer was "Yes!" He then took up the rock * An interjection indicating pain. t '^'li*' scirpns, or bulrush, \ Do not — do Hut, 20 HIAWATHA ; ? r jj and struck him. Blow led to blow, and here com- menced an obstinate and furious combat, which con- tinued several days. Fragments of the rock, broken off under Manabozho's blows, can be seen in various places to this day."* The root did not prove as mortal a weapon as his well-acted fears had led his father to expect, although he suffered severely from the blows. This battle commenced on the mountains. The West was forced to give ground. Manabozho drove him across rivers, and over mountains and lakes, and at last he came to the brink of this world. " Hold!" cried he, " my son; you know my power, and that it is impossible to kill me. Desist, and I will also portion you out with as much power as your bro- thers. The four quarters of the globe are already oc- cupied ; but you can go and do a great deal of good to the people of this earth, which is infested with large serpents, beasts, and monsters, f who make great havoc * The Northern Indians, when travelling in company with each other, or with white persons who possess their confidence, so as to put them at ease, are in the habit of making frequent allusions to Manabozho and his exploits. ''There," said a young Chippewa, pointing to some huge boulders of green- stone, " are pieces of the rock broken off in Manabozho's combat M'ith his father." " This is the duck," said an Indian inter- preter on the sources of the Mississippi, ** that Manabozho kicked." " Under that island," said a friend conversant with their language, " under that island Manabozho lost a beaver." t The term weendigo, translated here monster, is commonly applied, at this time, by the Indians, to cannibals. Its ancient use appears, however, to have embraced giants and anoma- lous voracious beasts of the land, to the former existence of which, on this Continent, their traditions refer. Tlie word genilbik, renJered serpent, appears likewise to oil, MANABOZriO. 21 lere com- lich con- f, broken in various prove as d led his rely from lountains. anabozlio ains and world, ly power, and I will your bro- 1 ready oc- 1 of good *vith large eat havoc pany with jonfidence, g frequent i?," said a of green- o's combat ian inter- anabozho sant with beavei'." ommonly Its ancient anoma- stence of .i-,% among the inhabitants. Go and do good. You have the power now to do so, and your fame with the beings of this earth will last forever. When yon have finisi. your work, I will have a place provided for you. You will then go and sit with your brother Kabibboonocca in the north." Manabozho was pacified. lie returned to his lodge, where he was confined by the wounds he had received. But from his grandmother's skill in medicines he was soon recovered. She told him that his grandfather, who had come to the earth in search of her, had been killed by Megissogwon,* who lived on the opposite side of the great lake. " When he was alive," she continued, " I was never without oil to put on my head, but now my hair is fast falling off for the want of it." "Well!" said he, "Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, whilst I make a canoe." When all was ready, he went out to the middle of the lake to fish. He put his line down, saying, " Me-she-nah-raa-gwai (the name of the kingfish), take hold of my bait." He kept repeating this for some time. At last the king of the fishes said, " Manabozho troubles me. Here, Trout, take hold of his line." The trout did so. He then commenced drawing up his line, which was very heavy, so that his canoe stood nearly perpendicular ; but he kept crying out, " Wha-ee-he I wha-ee-he !" till he could see the trout. As soon as he saw him, he spoke to him. " Why did you take hold of my hook ? have been used in a generic sense for amphibious animals of hirgo and venomous character. When applied to existing species of serpents, it requires an adjective prefix or qualifying term. * The wampum or pearl feather. 22 HIAWATHA ; ; Esa ! esa!* you ugly fish." The trout, being thus re- buked, let go. Manabozho put liis line again in the water, saying, ** King of fishes, take hold of my line." But the king of the fishes told a monstrous sunfish to take hold of it ; for Manabozho was tiring him with his incessant calls. He again drew up his line with difficulty, say- ing as before, ''Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he I" while his canoe was turning in swift circles. When he saw the sunfish, he cried, " Esa I esa ! you odious fish I why did you dirty my hook by taking it in your mouth ? Let go, I say, let go." The sunfish did so, and told the king of fishes what Manabozho said. Just at that moment the bait came near the king, and hearing Manabozho continually crying out, " Me-she nah-ma- gwai, take hold of my hook," at last he did so, and al- lowed himself to be drawn up to the surface, which he had no sooner reached than, at one mouthful, he took Manabozho and his canoe down. When he came to himself, he found that he was in the fish's belly, and also his canoe. lie now turned his thoughts to tl 3 way of making his escape. Looking in his canoe, he saw his war-club, with which he immediately struck the heart of the fish. He then felt a sudden motion, as if he were moving with great velocity. The fish observed to the others, " I am sick at stomach for having swal- lowed this dirty fellow Manabozho." Just at this moment he received another severe blow on the heart. Manabozho thought, " If I am thrown u[) in the mid- dle of the lake, I shall be drowned ; so I must pre- vent it." lie drew his canoe and placed it across the fish's throat, and just as he had finished the fish cora- * An interjoctiou equivalent to bhame ! shauie ! OR, MANABOZIIO. 'n» pre- ts the com- mencofl vomiting, but to no effect. In this he was aided by a squirrel, who had accompanied him unper- ceivcd until that moment. This animal had taken an active part in helping hira to place his canoe across the fish's throat. For this act he named him, saying, " For the future, boys shall always call you Aji- daumo."* He then renewed his attack upon the fish's heart, and succeeded, by repeated blows, in killing him, which he first knew by the loss of motion, and by the sound of the beating of the body against the shore. He waited a day longer to see what would happen. He heard birds scratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He could see the heads of gulls, who were looking in by the opening they had made. "Oh!" cried Manabozho, "my younger bro- thers, make the opening larger, so that 1 can get out." They told each other that their brother Manabozho was inside of the fish. They immediately set about enlarging the orifice, and in a short time liberated hira. After he got out he said to the gulls, " For the future you shall be called Kayoshkf for your kindness to me." The spot where the fish happened to be driven ashore was near his lodge. He went up and told his grand- mother to go and prepare as much oil as she wanted. All besides, he informed her, he should keep for himself. Some time after this, he commenced making prepa- rations for a war excursion against the Pearl Feather, the Manito who lived on the opposite side of the * Animal tail, or bottom npAvanl. t A five translation of this expre.ssion might he rcndored, noble scratchers, or grabbers. 24 HIAWATHA ; f great lake, wlio had killed his p^randfatlier. The abode of this spirit was defended, first, by fiery serpents, who hissed fire so that no one could pass them; and, in the second place, by a large mass of gummy matter lying on the water, so soft and adhesive, that whoever attempted to pass, or whatever came in contact with it, was sure to stick there. He continued making bows and arrows without num- ber, but he had no heads for his arrows. At last Noko told him that an old man who lived at some distance could make them. He sent her to get some. She soon returned with her conaus or wrapper full.* Still he told her he had not enough, and sent her again. She returned with as much more. He thought to himself, *' I must find out the way of making these heads." Cunning and curiosity prompted him to make the dis- covery. But he deemed it necessary to deceive his grandmother in so doing. " Noko," said he, " while I take my drum and rattle, and sing ray war songs, go anf^ try to get me some larger heads for my arrows, for those you brought me are all of the same size. Go and see whether the old man cannot make some a little larger." He followed her as she went, keeping at a distance, and saw the old artificer at work, and so dis- covered his process. He also beheld the old man's daughter, and perceived that she was very beautiful. He felt his breast beat with a new emotion, but said nothing. He took care to get home before his grand- * The conaus is the most ancient garment known to these tribes, being a simple extended single piece, without folds. Tlie word is the apjiarent root of godaus, a female garment. Waub-e-wion, a blanket, is a comparatively modern phrase for a wrapper, signifying, literally, a white skin with the wool un. '& Oa, MANABOZHO. 26 B abode ?rpcnts, and, in matter whoever act with lilt num- st Noko distance She soon Still he in. She I himself, heads." J the dis- 3eive his "while I longs, go f arrows, ize. Go le a little ling at a d so dis- Id man's eautiful. but said [is grand- mother, and commenced singing as if ho had never left his lodge. When the old woman came near, she heard his drum and rattle, without any suspicion that he had followed her. She delivered him the arrow-heads. One evening the old woman said, " My son, you ought to f he had a plentiful supply of oil. He travelled rapidly night and day, for he had only to will or s|)eak, and the canoe went. At length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents. He stopped to view tiiem. He saw they were some distance apart, and that the fiame only whi<'h issued froju them reached across the pass. He commenced talking as a friend to them; but they answered, " Wo know you, Munabozho, you cannot $ 28 HIAWATHA ; : ! ; >> pass." He then thought of some expedient to deceive them, and hit upon this. He pushed his canoe as near as possible. All at once he cried out, with a loud and terrified voice, "What is that behind you?" The serpents instantly turned their heads, when, at a single word, he passed them. "Weill" said he, placidly, after he had got by, " how do you like my exploit ?" He then took up his bow and arrows, and with delib- erate aim shot them, which was easily done, for the serpents were stationary, and could not move beyond a certain spot. They were of enormous length and of a bright color. Having overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his magic canoe till he came to a soft gummy por- tion of the lake, called Pigiu-wagumee or Pitchvvater. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then pushed into it. The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip through it with ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and a constant reapplication of the oil. Just as his oil failed, he extricated himself from this impediment, and was the first person who ever succeeded in overcoming it. He now came in view of land, on which he debarked in safety, and could see the lodge of the Shining Manito, situated on a hill. He commenced preparing for the fight, putting his arrows and clubs in order, and just at the dawn of day begun his attack, yelling and shouting, and crying with triple voices, " Surround himl surround him I runup! run up 1" making it ap- pear that he had many followers. He advanced crying out, " It was you that killed my grandfather," and with this shot his arrows. The combat continued all day. Manabozho's arrows had no effect, for his antagonist was clothed with pure wampum. He was now reduced OR, MANABOZIIO. 29 deceive as near )ud and ' The a single )lacidly, :ploit ?" h delib- for the beyond h and of went on imy por- uhvvater. xnd then ace and hough it lication himself ho ever barked Shining reparing der, and ing and urround i; it ap- d crying [ind with all day. t agonist reduced to three arrows, and it was only by extraordinary agility that he could escape the blows which the Manito kept making at him. At that moment a large woodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past, and lit on a tree. "Mana- bozho," he cried, "your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of hair on the crown of his head." lie shot his first arrow so as only to draw blood from that part. The Manito made one or two unsteady steps, but recovered himself. He began to parley, but, in the act, received a second arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered. In so doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a chance to fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him a lifeless corpse to the ground. Manabozho uttered his saw-saw-quan, and taking his scalp as a trophy, he called the wood- pecker to come and receive a reward for his informa- tion. He took the blood of the Manito and rubbed it on the woodpecker's* head, the feathers of which are red to this day. After this victory he returned home, singing songs of triumph and beating his drum. When his grand- mother heard him, she came to the shore and welcomed him with songs and dancing. Glory fired his mind. He displayed the trophies he had brought in the most conspicuous manner, and felt an unconquerable desire for other adventures. He felt himself urged by the consciousness of his i)ower to new trials of bravery, skill, and necromantic prowess. He had destroyed the Manito of Wealth, and killed his guardian serpents, * The tuft feathers of tho r«Ml-lu'ailotl woodpeckor nre nao«l to oniaiiu'nt tho stcma of thu liuliau jiipo, and are syniholiciil of valur. 3* 1! H! i k I < ! 80 HIAWATHA ; and eluded all his charms. lie did not long remain inactive. His next adventure was upon the water, and proved him the prince of fishermen. He captured a fish of such monstrous size, that the fat and oil he ob- tained from it formed a small lake. He therefore in- vited all the animals and fowls to a banquet, and he made the order in which they partook of this repast the measure of their fatness. As fast as they arrived, he told them to plunge in. The bear came first, and was followed by the deer, opossum, and such other animals as are noted for their peculiar fatness at certain seasons. The moose and bison came tardily. The partridge looked on till the reservoir w^as nearly exhausted. The hare and marten came last, and these animals have, consequently, no fat. When this ceremony was over, he told the assembled animals and birds to dance, taking up his drum and crying, "New songs from the south, come, brothers, dance." He directed them to pass in a circle around him, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When he saw a fat fowl pass by him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the same time beating his drum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown the noise of the fluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration, " That's the way, ray brothers, thaVs the way." At last a small duck (the diver), thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what he was doing. Giving a spring, and crying "Ha-ha-al Manabozho is killing us," he made for the water. Manabozho followed him, and, just as the duck was getting into the water, gave him a kick, which is the cause of his back being flattened and his legs being straightened out backward, so that when he gets on land he cannot walk, and his tail feathers are few. OR, MANABOZHO. 31 ; remain iter, and ptured a •il he ob- -efore in- t, and he lis repast rrived, he and was r animals 1 seasons, partridge ed. The als have, was over, to dance, } from the I them to eir eyes. |y him, he e beating to drown a tone of haVs the ing there what he |Ha-ha-a I e water, lick was ch is the ^gs being gets on are few. Meantime the other birds flew off, and the animals ran into the woods. After this Manabozho set out to travel. He wished to outdo all others, and to see new countries. But after walking over America and encountering many adventures, he became satisfied as well as fatigued. He had heard of great feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his power in that way. One evening, as he was walking along the shores of a great lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in the form of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The wolf, as soon as he saw hira, told his whelps to keep out of the way of Manabozho, "for I know," continued he, •' that it is him that we see yonder." The young wolves were in the act of running ofif, when Manabozho cried out, "My grandchildren, where are you going ? Stop, and I will go with you." He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and asked him whither he was jour- neying. Being told that they were looking out for a place, where they could find most game, to pass the winter, he said he should like to go with them, and ad- dressed the old wolf in the following words : "Bro- ther, I have a passion for the chase ; are you willing to change me into a wolf ?" He was answered favora- bly, and his transformation immediately effected. Manabozho was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding in size with the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change, crying out, "Oh, make me a little larger." They did so. "A little larger still," he exclaimed. They said, "Let us humor him," and granted his request. " Well," said he, " that will do." He looked at his tail. " Oh 1" cried he, " do make my tail a little longer and more ; i. 32 IIIAWATUA bushy." They did so. They then all started oflf ia company, dashing up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they fell in with the tracks of moose. The young ones went after them, Manabozho and the old wolf following at their leisure. " Well," said the wolf, " who do you think is the fastest of the boys ? can you tell by the jumps they take ?" " Why," he replied, '* tlmt one that takes such long jumps, he is the fastest, to be sure." " Ha I ha I you are mistaken," said the old wolf. " He makes a good start, but he will be the first to tire out ; this one, who appears to be behind, will be the one to kill the game." They then came to the place vvhere the boys had started in chase. One had dropped his small bundle. "Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf. "Esa,"he re- plied, " what will I do with a dirty dogskin ?" The wolf took it up ; it was a beautiful robe. " Oh, I will carry it now," said Manabozho. " Oh no," replied the wolf, who at the moment exerted his magic power; "it is a robe of pearls I" And from this moment he omit- ted no occasion to display his superiority, both in the hunter's and magician's art, above his conceited com- panion. Coming to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young wolves had made a fresh start after their prey. " Why," said the wolf, " this moose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I can always tell whether they are fat or not." They next came to a place where one of the wolves had bit at the moose, and had broken one of his teeth on a tree. " Mana- bozho," said the wolf, " one of your grandchildren has shot at the game. Take his arrow; there it is." "No," he replied ; '* what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth!" The old man took it up, and behold I it was a beautiful silver arrow. When they overtook the youngsters, OR, MANABOZHO. 33 off in nto the acks of labozlio ' Well," : of the Why," )s, he is itaken," but he )ears to They irted in " Take " he re- '" The h, I will klied the ^er; "it le orait- h in the jd com- lad lain ! a fresh " this always came to moose, Mana- ren has "No," tooth!" cautiful iigstci's, they had killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry ; but, alas I such is the power of enchant- ment, he saw nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, "Just as I expected, dirty, greedy fellows I" However, he sat down without saying a word. At length the old wolf spoke to one of the young ones, saying, " Give some meat to your grand- father." "One of them obeyed, and, coming near to Manabozho, opened his mouth as if he was about to vomit. He jumped up, saying, "You filthy dog, you have eaten so much that your stomach refuses to hold it. Get you gone into some other place." The old wolf, hearing the abuse, went a little to one side to see, and behold, a heap of fresh ruddy meat, with the fat, lying all ready prepared. He was followed by Mana- bozho, who, having the enchantment instantly removed, put on a smiling face. "Amazement I" said he ; "how fine the meat is." "Yes," replied the wolf; "it is always so with us ; we know our work, and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter." Manabozho bit his lip. They then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the youngsters went out in search of game, and soon brought in a large supply. One day, during the absence of the young wolves, the old one amused him- self in cracking the large bones of a moose. " Mana- bozho," said he, "cover your head with the robe, and do not look at me while I am at these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye." He did as he was told ; but, looking through a rent that was in the robe, he saw what the other was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off and hit him on the eye. He cried out, "Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?" The wolf said, " You must have been looking at me." But i% B> ! 34 HIAWATHA ; deception commonly leads to falsehood. " No, no," he said, " why should I want to look at you ?" " Mana- bozho," said the wolf, " you tniist have been looking, or you would not have got hurt." " No, no," he replied again, " I was not. I will repay the saucy wolf this," thought he to himself. So, next day, taking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the wolf, " Cover your head and don't look at me, for I fear a piece may ''y in your eye." The wolf did so. He then took the leg-bone of the moose, and looking first to see if the wolf was well covered, he hit him a blow with all his might. The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell pros- trate from the effects of the blow." " Why," said he, " do you strike me so ?" " Strike you I" he replied ; "no, you must have been looking at me." "No," answered the wolf, " I say I have not." But he per- sisted in the assertion, and the poor magician had to give up. Manabozho was an expert hunter when he earnestly undertook it. He went out one day and killed a fat moose. He was very hungry, and sat down to eat. But immediately he fell into great doubts as to the proper point to begin. " Well," said he, "I do not know where to commence. At the head ? No I Peo- ple will laugh, and say 'he ate him backward.'" He went to the side. " No I" said he, " they will say I ate sideways." He then went to the hind-quarter. "No I" said he, "they will say I ate him forward. I will com- mence here, say what they will." He took ii d£licate piece from the rump, and was just ready to put it in his mouth, when a tree close by made a creaking noise, caused by the rubbing of one large branch against another. This annoyed him. " Why I" he exclaimed, " I cannot cat when I hear such a noise. Stop 1 stop I" OR, MANABOZIIO. 35 No, no," "Mana- )oking, or le replied olf this," lip a bone , " Cover )iece may I took the see if the th all his fell pros- " said he, I replied ; ' " No," t he per- an had to earnestly lied a fat n to eat. as to the do not 1 Peo- '" He say I ate "Nol" will com- d£licate put it in ng noise, 1 against "cclaimed, ) I stop I" said he to the tree. lie was putting the morsel again to his mouth, when the noise was repeated. lie put it down, exclaiming, " I cannot eat with such a noise;" and immediately left the m^ \, although very hungry, to go and put a stop to the noise. He climbed the tree and was pulling at the limb, when his arm was caught between the two branches so that he could not extricate himself. "While thus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves coming in the direction towards his meat. " Go that way! go that way!" he cried out; "what would you come to get here?" The wolves talked among themselves and said, " Manabozho must have something there, or he would not tell us to go another way." " I begin to know him," said an old wolf, " and all his tricks. Let us go forward and see." They came on, and finding the moose, soon made way with the whole carcass. Manabozho looked on wishfully to see them eat till they were fully satisfied, and they left him nothing but the bare bones. The next heavy blast of wind opened the branches and liberated him. He went home, thinking to himself, " See the effect of meddling with frivolous things when I had certain good in my possession." Next day the old wolf addressed hira thus : " My brother, I am going to separate from you, but I will leave behind me one of the young wolves to be your hunter." He then departed. In the act Manabozho was disenchanted, and again resumed his mortal shape. He was sorrowful and dejected, but soon resumed his wonted air of cheerfulness. The young wolf who was left with him was a good hunter, and never failed to keep the lodge well supplied with meat. One day he addressed him as follows : "My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not portend good. It is of the #-?* .1 i J ? lii'u 36 HIAWATHA : large lake which lies in that direction (pointing). You must be careful never to cross it, even if the ice should appear good. If you should come to it at night weary or hungry, you must make the circuit of it." Spring commenced, and the snow was melting fast before the rays of the sun, when one evening the wolf came to this lake, weary with the day's chase. He disliked to go so far to make the circuit of it. " Hwooh I" he exclaimed, "there can be no great harm in trying the ice, as it appears to be sound. Nesho* is over cautious on this point." But he had not got half way across when the ice gave way and he fell in, and was immediately seized by the serpents, who knew it was Manabozho's grandson, and were thirsting for revenge upon him. Manabozho sat pensively in his lodge. Night came on, but no son returned. The second and third night passed, but he did not appear. He became very desolate and sorrowful. "Ahl"saidhe, "he must have disobeyed me, and has lost his life in that lake I told him of. Well I" said he at last, " I must mourn for him." So he took coal and blackened his face. But he was much perplexed as to the right mode. "I wonder," said he, "how I must do it? I will cry ' Oh 1 my grandson I Oh 1 my grandson'!'" He burst out a laughing. " No 1 no I that won't do. I will try so — 'Oh I my heart 1 Oh! my heart! ha! ha ! ha!' That won't do either. I will cry, *0h my grandson ohiquadjP "-j- This satisfied him, and he re- mained in his lodge and fasted, till his days of mourn- * Abbreviated from Neslioiniss, my grandfather. f That part of the intestines of a fish, which by its ex- pansion from air in the ♦irst stage of decomposition, canses the body to rise and float. The expression here means float. 'I L OR, MANABOZHO. 37 g). You ice should ght weary ' Spring before the ime to this d to go so jxclaimed, e ice, as it us on this ross when iinediately mabozho's ipon him. he second pear. He 1" said he, his life in it last, " I blackened the right do it ? I mdson'I' " won't do. eart I ha 1 , ' Oh my md he re- of mourn- ing were over :.i^ " Now," said he, "I will go in search of hira." He set out and travelled some time. At last he came to a great lake. lie then raised the same cries of lamentation for his grandson which had pleased him. He sat down near a small brook that emptied itself into the lake, and repeated his cries. Soon a bird called Ke-ske-mun-i-see^ came near to him. The bird inquired, " What are you doing here ?" " No- thing," he replied ; "but can you tell me whether any one lives in this lake, and what brings you here your- self?" "Yes I" responded the bird; "the Prince of Serpents lives here, and I am watching to see whether the obiquadj of Manabozho's grandson will not drift ashore, for he was killed by the serpents last spring, liut are you not Manabozho himself ?" "No," he answered, with his usual deceit ; "how do you think he could get to this place ? But tell me, do the serpents ever appear ? when ? and where ? Tell me all about their habits." " Do you see that beautiful white sandy beach ?" said the bird. "Yes I" he answered. " It is there," continued the Kingfisher, " that they bask in the sun. Before they come out, the lake will appear perfectly calm ; not even a ripple will appear. After midday (na-wi-qua) you VfiW see them." "Thank you," he replied ; "lam Manabozho him- self. I have come in search of the body of my son, and to seek my revenge. Come near me that I may put a medal round your neck as a reward for your in- formation." The bird unsuspectingly came near, and received a white medal, which can be seen to this day.f by its ex- on, causes Leans float. * The Alcedo or Kingfisher. t This hird has a wliitc spot ou the breast, and a tufted head. f Hi 1 1 i Li I 38 HIAWATHA ; While bestowing the medal, he attempted slyly to wring the bird's head off, but it escaped him, with only a disturbance of the crown featliers of its head, which are rumpled backward. lie had found out all he wanted to know, and then desired to conceal the know- ledge of his purposes by killing his informant. He went to the sandy beach indicated, and trans- formed himself into an oak stump. He had not been there long before he saw the lake perfectly calm. Soon hundreds of monstrous serpents came crawling on the beach. One of the number was beautifully white. He was the prince. The others were red and yellow. The prince spoke to those about hira as follows : "I never saw that black stump standing there before. It may be Manabozho. There is no knowing but he may be somewhere about here. He has the power of an evil genius, and we should be on our guard against his wiles." One of the large serpents immediately went and twisted himself around it to the top, and pressed it very hard. The greatest pressure happened to be on his throat ; he was just ready to cry out when the serpent let go. Eight of them went in succession and did the like, but always let go at the moment he was ready to cry out. "It cannot be him," they said. " He is too great a weak-heart* for that." They then coiled themselves in a circle about their .prince. It was a long time before they fell asleep. When they did so, Manabozho took his bow and arrows, and cau- tiously stepping over the serpents till he came to the prince, drew up his arrow with the full strength of his arm, and shot him in the left side. He then gave a saw-savv-quan,f and ran off at full speed. The sound * Shau-go-dai-a, i. e., a Coward. t Tlie war-cry. I* wring only a which all he know- trans- >t been Soon on the i. lie yellow. \'&: "I re. It he may r of an inst his V went pressed \ to be en the on and le was said. By then ce. It n they id can- to the of his gave a sound r-cry. SI OR, MANABOZnO. 39 1^ m ::Ml nttered by the snakes on seeinji; their prince mortally wonndc'd, was horrible. They cried, " ^lanabozlio has killed our prince; go in chase of hiin." ^Meantime he ran over hill and valley, to gain the interior of tho country, with all his strength and s[)eed, treading a mile at a step. But his i)ursuers were also spirits, and he could hear that something was approaching him fast. He made for the highest mountain, and climbed the highest tree on its summit, when, dreadful to be- hold, the whole lower country was seen to be over- flowed, and the water was gaining rai)idly on the high lands. He saw it reach to the foot of the mountain, and at length it came up to the foot of the tree, but there was no abatement. The flood rose steadily and per- ceptibly. He soon felt the lower part of his ])ody to V)e immersed in it. He addressed the tree : "Grand- father, stretch yourself." The tree did so. But the waters still rose. He repeated his request, and was again obeyed. He asked a third time, and was again obeyed; but the tree replied, "It is the last time ; I cannot get any higher." The waters continued to rise till they reached up to his chin, at which point they stood, and soon began to abate. Hope revived in his heart. He then cast his eyes around the illimitable expanse, and spied a loon. " Dive down, my brother," he said to him, "and fetch up some earth, so that I can make a new earth." The bird obeyed, but rose up to the surface a lifeless form. He then saw a muskrat. " Dive!" said he, "and if you succeed, you may here- after live either on land or water, as you please ; or I will give you a chain of beautiful little lakes, sur- rounded with rushes, to inhabit." He dove down, but he floated up senseless. He took the body and breathed in his nostrils, which restored him to life. "Try 40 HIAWATHA ; again, ^ said he. The muskrat did so. He came up senseless the second time, but clutched a little earth in one of his paws, from which, together with the carcass of the dead loon, he created a new earth as large as the former had been, with all living animals, fowls, and plants. As he was walking to survey the new earth, he heard some one singing. lie went to the place, and found a female ppirit, in the disguise of an old woman, singing these words, and crying at every pause : — " Ma nail bo slio, do zheem un, Ogeem' an wiiii, Onis'' sa waun, Hee-Ub bub ub bub (crying). Dread Mauabozbo in revenge, For bis grandson lost — lias killed tlie cliief — tbe king." "Noko,"said he, "what is the matter?" "Matter I" said she, " where have you been, not to have heard how Manabozho shot my son, the prince of serpents, in revenge for the loss of his nephew, and how the earth was overflowed, and created anew ? So I brought my son here, that he might kill and destroy the inhabi- tants, as he did on the former earth. But," she con- tinued, casting a scrutinizing glance, "N'yau 1 indego Manabozho I hub 1 ub 1 ub I ub 1 Oh, I am afraid you are Manabozho!" lie burst out into a laugh to quiet her fears. " Ua 1 ha! ha! how can that be? Has noo the old earth perished, and all that was in it ?" "Impossible! impossible!" "But, Noko," he con- tinued, " what do you intend doing with all that cedar cord on your back?" "Why," said she, "I am Wx- ing a snare for Manabozho, if he should be on this earth ; and, in the mean time, I am looking for herbs OR, MANABOZHO. 41 to heal my son. I am the only person that can do him any good. lie always gets better when I sing — " ' Manabozho a no we guawk, Koan dan niau wah, ne we guawk, Koan f?.an inau wah, ne we guawk.' It is Manabozlio's dart, I try my magic power to withdraw." Having found out, by conversation with her, all he wished, he put her to death. lie then took oflf her skin, and assuming this disguise, took the cedar cord on his back, and limped away singing her songs. He completely aped the gait and voice of the old woman. He was met by one who told him to make haste ; that the prince was worse. At the lodge, limping and mut- tering, he took notice that they had his grandson's hide to hang over the door. "Oh dogs!" said he ; "the evil dogs I" He sat down near the door, and com- menced sobbing like an aged woman. One observed, " Why don't you attend the sick, and not set there mak- ing such a noise ?" He took up the poker and laid it on them, mimicking ihe voice of the old woman. " Dogs that you are 1 why do you laugh at me ? You know very vvull that I am so sorry that I am nearly out of my head." With that he api)roached the prince, singing the songs of the old woman, without exciting any suspicion. He saw that his arrow had gone in about one half its length. He pretended to make pre- parations for extracting it, but only m-ide ready to finish his victim ; and giving the dart a sudden thrust, he put a period to the prince's life. He performed this act with ti»e power of a giant, bursting the old woman's skin, and at the same moment rushing through the door, tl»o serpents following him, hissing and 4* H i 42 HIAWATHA ; crying out, " Perfidy I murder 1 vengeance 1 it is Man- abozlio." He immediately transformed himself into a wolf, and ran over the plain with all his speed, aided by his father the West Wind. When he got to the mountains he saw a badger. "Brother," said he, " make a hole quick, for the serpents are after me." The badger obeyed. They both went in, and the })adger threw all the earth backward, so that it filled up the wav behind. The serpents came to the badger's wauzh,* and de- cided to watch. " We will starve him out," said they; so they continued watching. Manabozho told the badger to make an opening on the other side of the mountain, from which he could go out and hunt, and bring meat in. Thus they lived some time. One day the badger came in his way and displeased him. He immediately put him to death, and threw out his car- cass, saying, ** I don't like you to be getting in my way so often." After living in this confinement for some time alone, he decided to go out. He immediately did so ; and after making the circuit of the mountain, came to the corpse of the prince, who had been deserted by tlie ser- pents to pursue his destroyer. He went to work and skinned him. He then drew on his skin, in which there were great virtues, took up his war-club, and set out for the place where he first went in the ground. He found the serpents still watching. When they saw the form of their dead prince advancing towards them, fear and dread took hold of them. Some fled. Those who remained Manabozho killed. Those who fled went towards the Soulh. * A 1 111 r row. r' OR, MANABOZIIO. 43 V alone, and ' o the le ser- k and there t out He iw the n, fear e who went Ilavinj? accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Manabozho returned to his former place of dwelling, and married the arrow-maker's daughter. After Manabozho had killed the Prince of Serpents, he was living in a state of great want, completely de- serted by his powers, as a deity, and not able to procure the ordinary means of subsistence. He was at this time living with his wife and children, in a remote part of the country, where he could get no game. He was miserably poor. It was winter, and he had not the common Indian comforts. He said to his wife, one day, "I will go out a walking, and see if I cannot find some lodges." After walking some time he saw a lodge at a distance. The children were playing at the door. When they saw him ap- proiOt '.; they ran into the lodge, and told their parei ,. Vat Manabozho was coming. It was the residence of the large redheaded Woodpecker. He came to the lodge door and asked him to enter. He did so. After some time, the Woodpecker, who was a magician, said to his wife, "Have you nothing to give Manabozho ? he must be hungry." She answered, "No." In the centre of the lodge stood a large white tamarack- tree. The Woodpecker flew on to it, and commenced going up, turning his head on each side of the tree, and every now and then driving in his bill. At last he drew something out of the tree, and threw it down, when, behold I a fine, fat raccoon on the ground. He drew out six or seven more. He then descended, and told his wife to prepare them. "Manabozho," he said, "this is the only thing we eat. What else can we give you ?" " It is very good," replied Manabozho. They smoked their pipes and conversed with each other. After eating, the great Fpirit-chief got ready to go home. The Woodpecker I Ml 'i\ 44 HIAWATHA ; I ill f said to his wife, "Give him what remains of the raccoons to take home for his children." In the act of leaving the lodge he dropped intentionally one of his mittens, which was soon after observed. "Run," said theWoodpecker to his eldest son, "and give it to him. But don't give it into his hand ; throw it at him, for there is no knowing him, he acts so curiously." The boy did as he was bid. "Nemcsho" (my grandfather), said he, as he came up to him, "you have left one of your mittens — here it is." " Yes," said he, affecting to be ignorant of the circum- stance, "it is so. But don't throw it, you will soil it on the snow." The lad, however, threw it, and was about to return. " List, "said Manabozho, "is that all you eat — do you eat nothingelse with the raccoon?" "No," replied theyoungWoodpecker. " Tell yourfather," he answered, "to come and visit me, and let him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his raccoon meat." When the young one reported this to his father, the old man turned up his nose at the invitation. " What does the old fellow think he has got !" exclaimed he. Some time after the Woodpecker went to pay a visit to Manabozho. He was received with the usual atten- tion. It had been the boast of Manabozho, in former days, that he could do what any other being in the creation could, whether man or animals. He affected to have the sagacity of all animals, to understand their language, and to be capable of exactly imitating it. And in his visits to men, it was his custom to return, exactly, the treatment he had received. lie was very ceremonious in following the very voice and manner of his entertainers. The Woodpecker had no sooner entered his lodge, therefore, than he commenced playing the mimic. He had previously directed his wife to change his lodge, so as to inclose a large dry tamarack- r' OB, MANABOZIIO. 45 tree. "What can I give you ?"said he to the Woodpecker ; "but as we eat, so shall you eat." lie then put a long piece of bone in his nose, in imitation of the bill of this bird, and jumping on the tamarack-tree, attempted to climb it, doing as he had seen the Woodpecker do. He turned his head first on one side, then on the other. He made awkward efforts to ascend, but continually slipped down. He struck the tree with the bone in his nose, until at last he drove it so far up his nostrils that the blood began to flow, and he fell down senseless at the foot of the tree. The Woodpecker started after his drum and rattle to restore him, and having got them, succeeded in bringing him to. As soon as he came to his senses, he began to lay the blame of his failure to his wife, saying to his guest, "Nemesho, it is this woman relation of yours — she is the cause of my not succeeding. She has rendered me a worthless fel- low. Before I took her I could also get raccoons." The Woodpecker said nothing, but flying on the tree, drew out several fine raccoons. " Here," said he, "this is the way ive do," and left him with apparent con- tempt. Severe weather continued, and Manabozho still suf- fered for the want of food. One day he walked out, and came to a lodge, which was occupied by the Moose (M(3z). The young Mozonsug* saw him and told their father Manabozho was at the door. He told them to invite him in. Being seated, they entered into conver- sation. At last the Moose, who was a Meeta, said, " What shall we give Manabozho to eat ? We have no- thing." His wife was seated with her back toward him, making garters. He walked up to her, and untying 1 * Diminutive form, plural number, of the noun Miiz. i« 46 ' HIAWATHA; tlie coveriiiQ^ of the armlet from lier back, cut oflf a laro-e piece of flesh from tlie stiiuire of her slioulder.* He then put some medicine on it, which immediately healed the wound. Tlie skin did not even appear to have been broken, and his wife was so little affected by it, that she did not so much as leave off her work, till he told her to prepare the flesh for eating. " Manabozho," said he, "this is all we eat, and it is all we can give you." After they had finished eating, Manabozho set out for home, but intentionally, as before, dropped one of his minjckawun, or mittens. One of the young Moose took it to him, telling him that his father had sent him with it. He had been cautioned not to hand it to him, but to throw it at him. Having done so, contrary to the remonstrance of Manabozho, he was going back, when the latter cried out, " Bakaii ! Bakaii If Is that\ * The dress of tlie females in the Odjibwa nation, consists of sleeves, open on the inner side of the arm from the elbow up, and terminating in large square folds, falling from the shoulders, wliioh are tied at the back of the neck with ribbon or binding. The sleeves are separately made, and not at- tached to the breast garment, wliich consists of square folds of cloth, ornamented and sustained by shoulder straps. To untie the sleeves or armlets, as is here described, is therefore to expose the shoulders, but not the back — a simple device, quickly accomplished, by which the magician could readily exercise his art almost imperceptibly to tlie object. t Btop! stop! X It is difficult to throw into the English pronoun the whole of the meaning of the Indian. Pronouns in this language being, like other parts of speech, transitive ; they are at once indicative both of the actor, personal, and relative, and the nature of the object, or subject of the action, or relation. This, and that, are not used in the elementary ioiwi these pronouns invariably possess in the English. Inllections are OR, MANABOZHO. 4Y tlie only kind of meat you eat ? Tell me." "Yes," an- swered the young man, "that is all; we have nothing else." "Tell your father," he replied, "to come and visit me, and I will give him what you shall eat with your meat." The old Moose listened to this message with indignity. " I wonder what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!" He was bound, however, to obey the invitation, and went accordingly, taking along a cedar sack, for he had been told • bi... one. Manabozl > i jeived him in the same manner he nad himself been received — re- peating the same remarks, and attempted to supply the lack of food in the same manner. To this end he had requested his wife to busy herself in making garters. He arose and untied the covering of her back as he had seen the Moose do. He then cut her back shock- ingly, paying no attention to her cries or resistance, until he saw her fall down, from the loss of blood. " Manabozho," said the Moose, " you are killing your wife." He immediately ran for his drum and rattle, and restored her to life by his skill. He had no sooner done this than Manabozho began to lay the blame of his ill success on his wife. "Why, Nemesho," said he, " this woman, this relation of yours — she is making me a most worthless fellow. Formerly, I procured my meat in this way. But now I can accomplish nothing." The Moose then cut large pieces of flesh off his own thighs, without the least injury to himself, and gave them to Manabozho, saying, with a contemptuous air, " This is the way ice do." He then left the lodge. n; ii ■liif •it i put to them indicating the class of natural objects to which they refer. A noun masculine or feminine, requiring an ani- mate pronoun, a noun inanimate, a pronoun inanimate. 48 HIAWATHA ; t After these visits Manabozho was sitting pensively in his lodge one day, with his head down. lie heard the wind whistling around it, and thought, by atten- tively listening, he could hear the voice of some one speaking to him. It seemed to say to him : " Great chief, why are you sorrowful ? Am not I your friend — your guardian Spirit?" He immediately took up his rattle, and without leaving his sitting posture, began to sing the chant which at the close of every stanza has the chorus of "Whaw Lay Le Aw." When he had devoted a long time to this chant, he laid his rattle aside, and determined to fast. For this purpose he went to a cave, and built a very small fire, near which he laid down, first telling his wife that neither she nor the children must come near him till he had finished his fast. At the end of seven days he came back to the lodge, pale and emaciated. His wife in the mean time had dug through the snow, and got a small quan- tity of the root called truffles. These she boiled and set before him. When he had finished his repast, he took his large bow and bent it. Then placing a strong arrow to the string, he drew it back, and sent the arrow, with the strength of a giant, through the side of his bark lodge. "There," said he to his wife, "go to the outside, and you will find a large bear, shot through the heart." She did so, and found one as he had predicted. He then sent the children out to get red willow sticks. Of these he cut off as many pieces, of equal length, as would serve to invite his friends to a feast. A red stick was sent to each one, not forgetting the Moose and the Woodpecker. When they arrived, they were astonished to see such a profusion of meat cooked for them, at such a time of scarcity. Manabozho understood their glances, and OR, MANABOZIIO. 49 be rong TOW, his the the ted. icks. h, as red oose such lie of and felt a conscious pride in making such a display. "Ake- wazi," said he, to one of the oldest of the party, " the weather is very cold, and the snow lasts a long time. We can kill nothing now but small squirrels. And I have sent for you to help me eat some of them." The Woodpecker was the first to put a mouthful of the bear's meat to his mouth, but he had no sooner begun to taste it, than it changed into a dry powder, and set him coughing. It appeared as bitter as ashes. The Moose felt the same effect, and began to cough. Each one, in turn, was added to the number of coughers. But they had too much sense of decorum, and respect for their entertainer, to say anything. The meat looked very fine. They thought they would try more of it. But the more they ate the faster they couahed and the louder became the uproar, until Manabozho, exerting his former power, which he now felt to be renewed, transformed them all into the adjidamo, or squirrel, an animal which is still found to have the habit of barking, or coughing, whenever it sees any one approach its nest. The story of this chief of northern myths is dropped in my notes at this point of his triumph over the strongest of the reptile race. But his feats and adven- tures by land and sea do not terminate here. There is scarcely a prominent lake, mountain, precipice, or stream in the northern part of America, which is not hallowed in Indian story by his fabled deeds. Further accounts will be found in several of the subsequent tales, which are narrated by the Indians in an indepen- dent form, and may be now appropriately left as they were found, as episodes, detached from the original story. To collect all these and arrange them in order would be an arduous labor; and, after all, such an 5 'I !|»". i 50 HIAWATHA ; arrangement would lack consistency and keeping, unless much of the thread necessary to present them in an Eng- lish dress were supplied by alteration, and transposition. The portions above narrated present a beginning and an end, which could hardly be said of the loose and disjointed fragmentary tales referred to. How long Manabozho lived on earth is not related. We hear nothing more of his grandmother ; every mouth is filled with his queer adventures, , I'icks, and sufferings. He was everywhere present where danger presented itself, power was required, or miscliief was going forward. Nothing was too low or trivial for him to engage in, nor too high or difficult for him to attempt. He affected to be influenced by the spirit of a god, and was really actuated by the malignity of a devil. The period of his labors and adventures having expired, he with- drew to dwell with his brother in the North, where he is understood to direct those storms which proceed from the points west of the pole. He is regarded as the spirit of the northwest tempests, but receives no worship from the present race of Indians. It is be- lieved by them that he is again to appear, and to exer- cise an important power in the final disposition of the human race. In this singular tissue of incongruities may be per- ceived some ideas probably derived from Asiatic sources. It will be found in the legends of the visitors to the Sun and Moon, and of the white stone canoe, that Manabozho was met on the way, and he is repre- sented as expressing a deep repentance for the bad acts he had committed while on earth. He is, however, found exercising the vocation of a necromancer ; has a jos- sakecd's lodge, from which he utters oracles ; and finally transforms on the spot two of the party, who OR, MANABOZHO. 51 had consulted him, and asked the pjift of immortality, the one into a cedar-tree, and the other into a block of granite. Manabozho is regarded by the Indians as a divine benefactor, and is admired and extolled as the per- sonification of strength and wisdom. Yet he con- stantly presents the paradox of being a mere mortal ; is driven to low and common expedients ; and never utters a sentiment wiser or better than the people among whom he appears. Tlie conception of a divin- ity, pure, changeless, and just, as well as benevolent, in the distribution of its providences, has not been reached by any traits exhibited in the character of this personage. And if such notions had ever been con- ceived by the ancestors of the present race of Indians in the East, they have been obliterated, in the course of their long, dark, and hopeless pilgrimage in the forests of America. The prevalence of this legend, among the Indian tribes, is extensive. The character, the place, which he holds in the Indian mythology are further denoted in the 5th vol. of my Hist., p. 417, where he is represented as giving passage to souls on their way through the regions of space, to the Indian paradise ; and also in the legend of the White Stone Canoe. The general myth, is recognized in the legend of the Iroquois, under the name of Hia- watha, and Tarenyawazon. See Notes on the Iro- quois, page 2T0 (1846), and also in the 3d vol. Hist., p. 314. Mr. Longfellow has given prominence to it, and to its chief episodes, by selecting and generalizing such traits as appeared best susceptible of poetic uses. I mV %■ PAUr-PUK-KEEWISS. The vernal equinox in the north, generally takes place while the ground is covered with snow, and win- ter still wears a polar aspect. Storms of wind and light drifting snow, expressively called poudre by the French, and peewun by the Indians, fill the atmo- sphere, and render it impossible to distinguish objects at a short distance. The fine powdery flakes of snow are driven into the smallest crannies of buildings and fix- tures, and seem to be endowed with a subtle power of insinuation, which renders northern joinerwork but a poor defence. It is not uncommon for the sleeper, on waking up in the morning, to find heaps of snow, where he had supposed himself quite secure on lying down. Such seasons are, almost invariably, times of scarcity and hunger with the Indians, for the light snows have buried up the traps of the hunters, and the fishermen are deterred from exercising their customary skill in decoying fish through orifices cut in the ice. They are often reduced to the greatest straits, and compelled to exercise their utmost ingenuity to keep their children from starving. Abstinence, on the part of the elder members of the family, is regarded both as a duty and a merit. Every effort is made to satisfy the importu- nity of the little ones for food, and if there be a story- PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 53 ity Ue len I in iire to len ier id LU- y- teller in the lodge, he is sure to draw upon his cabin lore, to amuse their minds, and beguile the time. In these storms, when each inmate of the lodge has his conaus, or wrapper, tightly drawn around him, and all are cowering around the cabin fire, should some sud- den puff of wind drive a volume of light snow into the lodge, it would scarcely happen, but that some one of the group would cry out, "Ah, Pauppukkeewiss is now gathering his harvest," an expression which has the effect to put them all into good humor. Pauppukkeewiss was a crazy brain, whc played many queer tricks, but took care, nevertheless, to supply his family and children with food. But, in this, he was not always successful. Many winters have passed since he was overtaken ; at this very season of the year, with great want, and he, with his whole family, was o\: ^ho point of starvation. Every resource seemed to have failed. The snow was so deep, and the storm continued so long, that he could not even find a partridge or a hare. And his usual resource of fish had entirely failed. His lodge stood in a point of woods, not far back from the shores of the Gitchiguma, or great water, where the autumnal storms had piled up the ice into high pinnacles, resembling castles. "I will go," said he to his family onp morning, "to these castles, and solicit the pity of tht- -• irits who in- habit them, for I know that they are the residence of some of the spirits of Kabiboonoka." He did so, and found that his petition was not disregarded. They told him to fill his mushkemoot, or sack, with the ice and snow, and pass on toward his lodge, without looking back, until he came to a certain hill. He must then drop it and leave it till morning, when he would find it filled with fish. 5* i 'M I 54 PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. They cautioned him, that he must hy no means look back, although he would hear a great many voices cry- ing out to him, in abusive terms, for these voices were nothing but the wind playing through the branches of the trees. He faithfully obeyed the injunction, although he found it hard to avoid turning round, to see who was calling out to him. And when he visited his sack in the morning, he found it filled with fish. It chanced that Manabozho visited him on the morn- ing that he brought home the sack of fish. He was invited to partake of a feast, which Pauppukkeewiss ordered to be prepared for him. While they were eat- ing, Manabozho could not help asking him, by what means he had procured such an abundance of food, at a time when they were all in a state of starvation. Pauppukkeewiss frankly told him the secret, and re- peated the precautions which were necessary to insure success. Manabozho determined to profit by his infor- mation, and as soon as he could, he set out to visit the icy castles. All things happened as he had been told. The spirits seemed propitious, and told him to fill and carry. He accordingly filled his sacks with ice and snow, and proceeded rapidly toward the hill of trans- mutation. But as he ran he heard voices calling out behind him, "Thief 1 thief I He has stolen fish from Kabiboonoka," cried one. " Mukumik I mukumik I Take it away 1 Take it away I" cried another. In fine, his ears were so assailed by all manner of op- probrious terms, that he could not avoid turning his head, to see who it was that thus abused him. But his curiosity dissolved the charm. When he came to visit his bags next morning, he found them filled with ico and snow. A high drifting snow storm never fails to bring up this story. The origin of this queer character PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 55 3 u it p lo r is as queer as his acts are phantastic. The myth asserts, that a man of large stature, and great activity of mind and body, found himself standing alone on a prairie. He thought to himself, " How came I here ? Are there no beings on this earth but myself ? I must tra- vel and see. I must walk till I find the abodes of men," So soon as his mind was made up, he set out, he knew not where, in search of habitations. No ob- stacles could divert him from his purpose. Neither prairies, rivers, woods, nor storms had the cfiTect to daunt his courage or turn him back. After travelling a long time he came to a wood, in which he saw de- cayed stumps of trees, as if they had been cut in ancient times, but no other traces of men. Pursuing his jour- ney, he found more recent marks of the same kind ; and after this, he came to fresh traces of human beings ; first their footsteps, and then the wood they had cut, lying in heaps. Continuing on, he emerged towards dusk from the forest, and beheld at a distance a large village of high lodges, standing on rising ground. Ho said to himself, " I will arrive there on a run." Off he started with all his speed ; on coming to the first large lodge, he jumped over it. Those within saw something pass over the opening, and then heard a thump on the ground. " What is that ?" they all said. One came out to see, and invited him in. Ue found himself in company with an old chief and several men, who were seated in the lodge. Meat was set before him, after which the chief asked him where he was going and what his name was. He answered, that ho was in search of adventures, and his name was Paup- Puk-Keewiss. A stare followed. t 56 PAUP-rUK-KEEWISS. "Paup-Puk-KeewissI"* gaid one to another, and a general titter went round. He was not easy in his new position ; the village was too small to give him full scope for his powers, and after a short stay he made up his mind to go farther, taking with him a young man who had formed a strong attachment for him, and might serve him as his mesh-in- au-wa.f They set out together, and when his companion was fatigued with walking, he would show him a few tricks, such as leaping over trees, and turning round on one ]cg till he made the dust fly, by which he was mightily pleased, although it sometimes happened that the character of these tricks frightened him. One day they came to a very large village, where they were well received. After staying in it some time, they were informed of a number of manitoes who lived at a distance, and who made it a practice to kill all who came to their lodge. Attempts had been made to extirpate them, but the war-parties who went out for this purpose were always unsuccessful. Paup-Puk- Keewiss determined to visit them, although he was ad- vised not to do so. The chief warned him of the dan- ger of the visit ; but, finding him resolved, " Well," said he, " if you will go, being my guest, I will send twenty warriors to serve you." He thanked him for the offer. Twenty young men were ready at the instant, and they went forward, and * This word nppears to bo derived from the same root ns Punp-puk-kc-naij, a gras.~ oppor, tlio inlleotion m making it per? Jiial. Tho Indian idea is that of harum soarum. IIo is regarded as a foil to Manabozho, with wliom lie is fre(iuently brought in contact in aboriginal story craft. t This is an ollicial who bears the pipe for tho ruling chief, ami is an infeiior dignity in councils. PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. b1 in due time described tlie lodge of the manitocs. He placed bis friend and the warriors near enough to see all that passed, while he went alone to the lodge. As he entered he saw five horrid-looking manitoes in the act of eating. It was the father and his four sons. They looked hideous ; their eyes were swimming low in their heads, as if half starved. They offered him some- thing to eat, which he refused. " What have you come for ?" said the old one. " Nothing," Paup-Puk-Keewiss answered. They all stared at him. " Do you not wish to wrestle ?" they all asked. " Yes," he replied. A hideous smile came over their faces. " You go," they said to the eldest brother. They got ready, and were soon clinched in each other's arms for '' deadly throw. He knew their object —his death — his Jlesh was all they wanted, but he was prepared for them. " Haw I hawl"* they cried, and soon the dust and dry leaves flew about as if driven by a strong wind. The manito was strong, but Paup-Puk-Keewiss soon found that he could master him ; and, giving him a trip, he threw him with a giant's force head foremost on a stone, and he fell like a puffed thing. The brothers stepped up in quick succession, but ho put a number of tricks in force, and soon the whole four lay bleeding on the ground. The old manito got frightened and ran for his life. Paup-Puk-Keewiss pursued ium for sport ; sometimes he was before him, sometimes flying over his head. He would now give il« ii i n * Tills Is a studied perversion nf the interjoctioii ffo. another instunco (vide Wassamo) it is rendered JIuke. In 58 PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. kick, then a push a trip, till he was almost exhausted. Meantime his friend and the warriors cried out, "Ilal ha I a! hal ha I a! Paup-Puk- Keewiss is driving him before him." The manito only turned his head now and then to look back ; at last, Paup-Puk-Keewiss gave him a kick on his back, and broke his back bone ; down he fell, and the blood gush- ing out of his mouth prevented him from saying a word. The warriors piled all the bodies together in the lodge, and then took Ore and burned them. They all looked with deep interest at the quantity of human bones scat- tered around. Paup-Puk-Kcewiss then took three arrows, and after having performed a ceremony to the Great Spirit, he shot one into the air, crying, with a loud voice, " Toil who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit!" The bones all moved to one place. He shot the second arrow, repeating the same words, when each bone drew towards its fellow-bone ; the third arrow brought forth to life the whole multitude of people who had been killed by the manitoes. Paup-Puk-Keewiss then led them to the chief of the village who had proved his friend, and gave them up to him. Soon after the chief came with his counsellors. " Who is more worthy," said he, " to rule than you ? Tou alone can defend them." Paup-Puk-Keewiss thanked him, and told him he was in search of more adventures. The chief insisted. Paup-Puk-Keewiss told him to confer the chieftainship on his friend, who, he said, would remain while he went on his travels. lie told them that he would, some time or other, come back and sec them. "llol hoi hoi" they all cried, "come back again PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 59 It and see us," insisting on it. lie promised thcra lie would, and then set out alone. After travelling some time he came to a large lake ; on looking about, he discovered a very large otter on an island. He thought to himself, " His skin will make me a fine pouch," and immediately drew up, at long shots, and drove an arrow into his side. He waded into the lake, and with some difficulty dragged hira ashore. He took out the entrails, and even then the carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to drag it up a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got him up into the sunshine, where it was warm, he skinned him, and threw the carcass some dis- tance, thinking the war-eagle would come, and he should have a chance to get his skin and feathers as head or- naments. He soon heard a rushing noise in the air, but could see nothing ; by and by, a large eagle drop- ped, as if from the air, on the otter's carcass. He drew his bow, and the arrow passed through under both his wings. The bird made a convulsive flight up- wards with such force, that the heavy carcass (which was nearly as big as a moose) was borne up several feet. Fortunately, both claws were fastened deeply in- to the meat, the weight of which soon brought the bird down. He skinned him, crowned his head with the trophy, and next day was on his way, on the look- out for something new. After walking a while he came to a lake, which flood- ed the trees on its banks ; he found it was only a lake made by beavers. He took his station on the elevated dam, where the stream escaped, to see whether any of the beavers would show themselves. He soon saw the head of one peeping out of the water to see who dis- turbed them. t\ !■* i) 60 PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. "My friend," said Paup-Puk-Keewiss, "could you not turn me into a beaver like yourself?" for he thought, if he could become a beaver, he would see and know how these animals lived. " I do not know," replied the beaver ; " I will go and ask the others." Soon all the beavers showed their heads above the water, and looked to see if he was armed ; but he had left his bow and arrows in a hollow tree at a short dis- tance. When they were satisfied, they all came near. " Can you not, with all your united power," said he, " turn me into a beaver ? I wish to live among you." "Yes," answered their chief; " lay down ;" and he soon found himself changed into one of them. " You must make me large j"*^ said he ; " larger than any of you." "Yes, yes 1" said they. " By and by, when we get into the lodge, it shall be done." In they all dove into the lake ; and, in passing large heaps of limbs and logs at the bottom, he asked the use of them ; they answered, "It is for our winter's pro- visions."* When they all got into the lodge, their number was about one hundred. The lodge was large and warm. " Now we will make you large," said they. " Will that do ?" exerting their power. " Yes," he answered, for he found he was ten times the size of the largest. " You need not go out," said they. " We will bring your food into the lodge, and you will be our chief." * Wc may mention, for the youth who may read tlicse tales, tliat beavers live by gnawing the bark of trees. PAUP-rUK-KEEWISS. 61 II 111 ir |s» " Yery well," Paup-Pak-Keewiss ansvvereil. He thought, *' I will stay here and grow fat at their ex- pense. But, soon after, one ran into the lodge out of breath, saying, " We are visited by Indians." All huddled together in great fear. The water began to lower, for the hunters had broken down the dam, and they soon heard them on the roof of the lodge breaks ing it up. Out jumped all the beavers into the water, and so escaped. Paup-Puk-Keewiss tried to follow them ; but, alas ! they had made him so large that he could not creep out of the hole. He tried to call them back, but to no effect ; he worried himself so much in trying to escape, that he looked like a bladder. He could not turn himself back into a man, although he heard and understood all the hunters said. One of them put his head in at the top of the lodge. '^Ty-auV cried he ; ^' Tut Ty-aul Me-shau-mik — king of the beavers is in." They all got at him, and knocked his skull till it was as soft as his brains. He thought, as well as ever he did, although he was a beaver. Seven or eight of them then placed his body on poles and carried hira home. As they went, he re- flected in this manner: "What will become of me? my ghost or shadow will not die after they get me to their lodges." Invitations were immediately sent out for a grand feast. The won: en took him out into the snow to skin him ; but, as soon as his flesh got cold, his Jee-hi went off. Paup-Puk-Kewiss found himself standing near a prairie, having reassumed his mortal shape. After walking a distance, he saw a herd of elk feeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life, and thought there could be nothing pleasanter than the liberty of running about and feeding on the prui- 6 !l 9 t ! 62 PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. rics. He asked them if they could not turn him into their shape. " Yes," they answered, after a panse. " Get down on your hands and feet." And he soon found himself an elk. " I want big horns, big feet," said he ; " I wish to be very large." " Yes ! yes I" they said. " There I'^ exerting their power ; " are you big enough ?" " Yes !" he answered, for he saw that he was very large. They spent a good time in grazing and run- ning. Being rather cold one day, he went into a thick wood for shelter, and was followed by most of the herd. They had not been long there before some elks from behind passed the others like a strong wind. All took the alarm, and off they ran, he with the rest. " Keep out on the plains," they said. But he found it was too late, as they had already got entangled in the thick woods. Paup-Puk-Kee- wiss soon smelt the hunters, who were closely follow- ing his trail, for they had left all the others and fol- lowed him. He jumped furiously, and broke down saplings in his flight, but it only served to retard his progress. He soon felt an arrow in his side ; he jumped over trees in his agony, but the arrows ck''- tered thicker and thicker upon his sides,, and at last one entered his heart. He fell to the ground, and heard the whoop of triumph sounded by the hunters. On coming up, they looked on the carcass with aston- ishment, and with their hands up to their mouths exclaimed Ty-au 1 Ty-au I There were about sixty id the party, who had come out on a special hunt, as one of their number had, the day before, observed his PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS- 63 large trades on the plains. After skinninp^ him and his flesh getting eohl, Iiis Jee-hi took its flight from the carcass, and he again found himself in humau shape, with a bow and arrows. lint his passion for adventure was not yet cook " ; for, on coming to a large lake with a sandy beach, .le saw a large flock of brant, and, speaking to them, asked them to turn him into a bmnt. '' Yes," they replied. " But I want to be very large," he said. "Very well," they answered; and he soon found himself a large brant, all the others standing gazing in astonishment at his large size. " You must fly as leader," they said. "No," answered Paup-Puk-Keew'ss, "I will fly behind," " Very well," tliey said, " One thing iiore we have to say to you. You must be careful, in flying, not to look doion, for something may happen to you." ** Well ! it is so," said he ; and soon the flock rose up into the air, for they were bound north. They flew very ftxst, he Ijehind. One day, while going with a strong wind, and as swift as their wings could flap, while passing over a large villa^eVt^iie Indians raised a great shout on seeing them, pa,fliciilarly on Paup-Puk- Keewiss's account, for his wings were broader than two large aupukwa.* They made such a noise, that he forgot what had been told him, about looking down. They were now going as swift as arrows ; and, as soon as he brought his neck in and stretched it down to look at the shouters, his tail was caught by the wind, and over and over he was blown. He tried to * Mats, C4 PAU P-PU K • K EE W 1 SS. rij^lit himself, but without success. Down, down he went, making more turns than he wished for, from a height of several miles. The first thing he knew was, that he was jammed into a large hollow tree. To get back or forward was out of ihe (juestion, and there he remained till his brant life was ended by starvation. His Jee-bi again left the carcass, and he once more found himself in the shape of a human being. Travelling was still his passion ; and, while travel- ling, he came to a lodge in which were two old men with heads white from age. They treated him well, and he told them that he was going back to his village to see his friends and people. They said they would aid him, and pointed out the direction he should go ; l)ut they were deceivers. After walking all day, he came to a lodge looking very much like the first, with two old men in it with white heads. It was, in fact, the very same lodge, and he had been walking in a circle ; but they did not undeceive him, pretending to be strangers, and saying, in a kind voice, "We will show you the way." After walking the third day, and coming back to the same place, he found them out in their tricks, for he had cut a notch on the doorpost. " Who are you," said he to them, " to treat me so ?" and he ga\ c one a kick and the other a slap, which killed them. Their blood flew against the rocks near the lodge, and this is the reason there are red streaks in them to this day. He then burned their lodge down, and freed the earth of two pretended good men, who were manitoes. He then continued his journey, not knowing exactly which way to go. At last he came to a big lake. He got on the highest hill to try and see the opposite side, but he could not. He then made a canoe, and took a PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 65 sail into the lake. On lookinp^ into the water, which was very clear, before he got to the abrupt depth, he saw the bottom covered with dark fishes, numbers of which he cauf?ht. This inspired him witii a wish to re- turn to his village and to bring his people to live near this lake. He went on, and towards evening came to a large island, where he encamped and ate the fish lie had speared. Next day he returned to the main land, and, in wandering along the shore, he en<.ounterod a more powerful manito than himself, called Manabozho. lie thought best, after playing him a trick, to keep out of his way. He again thought of returning to his village; and, transforming himself into a partridge, took his flight towards it. In a short time he reached it, and his return was welcomed with feastings and songs. He told them of the lake and the fish, and persuaded them all to remove to it, as it would be easier for them to live there. He immediately began to remove them by short encampments, and all things turned out as he had said. They caught abundance of fish. After this, a messenger came for him in the shape of a bear, who said that their king wished to see him imme- diately at his village. Paup-Puk-Keewiss was ready in an instant ; and, getting on to the messenger's back, off he ran. Towards evening they went up a higii mountain, and came to a cave where the bear-king lived. He was a very large person, and made him welcome by inviting him into his lodge. As soon as propriety allowed, he spoke, and said that he had sent for him on hearing that he was the chief who was moving a large party towards his hunting-grounds. '* You must know," said he, " that you have no right there. And I wish you would leave the country with 6* i .i H: G6 I'AUr-PUK-KEEWlSS. your party, or else the strongest force will take po?;- session." "Very well," replied Paup-Puk-Keewiss. "So b.: it." He did not wish to do anything without con- sulting his people ; and besides, he saw that the bear- king was raising a war party. He then told him he would go back that night. The bear-king left hirti to do as he wished, but told him that one of his young men was ready at his command ; and, immediately jumping on his back, Paup-Puk-Keewiss rode home. He assembled the village, and told the young men to kill the bear, make a feast of it, and hang the head out- side the village, for he knew the bear spies would soon see it, and carry the news to their chief. Next morning Paup-Puk-Keewiss got all his young warriors ready for a fight. After waiting; one day, the bear war-party came in sight, making a tremendous noise. The bear-chief advanced, and said that he did not wish. to shed the blood of the young warriors; but that if he, Paup-Puk-Keewiss, consented, they two would have a race, and the winner should kill the losing chief, and all his young men should be slaves to the other. Paup-Puk-Keewiss agreed, and they ran before all the warriors. He was victor, and came in first ; but, not to terminate the race too soon, he gave the bear-chief some specimens of his skill and swiftness by forming eddies and whirlwinds with the sand, as he leaped and turned about him. As the bear-chief came up, he drove an arrow through him, and a great chief fell. Having done this, he told his young men to take all those blackfish (meaning the bears), and tie them at the door of each lodge, that they might remain in future to serve as servants. After seeint^ that all was quiet and prosperous in the PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 6t villap^e, Panp-Puk-Keewias felt his desire for adventure returning. He took a kind leave of his friends and people, and started off again. After wandering a long time, he came to the lodge of Manabozho, who was absent. He thought he would play him a triek, and so turned everything in the lodge upside down, and killed his chickens. Now Manabozho calls all the fowls of the air his chickens ; and among the number was a raven, the meanest of birds, which Paup-Puk- Keewiss killed and hung up by the neck to insult him. He then went on till he came to a very high point of rocks running out into the lake, from the top of which he could see the country back as far as the eye could reach. While sitting there, Manabozho's mountain chickens flew round and past him in great numbers. So, out of spite, he shot them in great numbers, for his arrows were sure and the birds very plenty, and he amused himself by throwing the birds down the rocky precipice. At length a wary bird cried out, " Paup- Puk-Keewis8 is killing us. Go and tell our father " Away flew a delegation of them, and Manabozho soon made his appearance on the plain below, Paup-Puk- Keewiss made his escape on the opposite side. Mana- bozho cried out from the mountain — " The earth is not so large but I can get up to you," Off Paup-Puk-Keewiss ran, and Manabozho after him. He ran over hills and prairies with all bis speed, bul still saw his pursuer hard after him. He thought of this expedient. He stopped and climbed a large pine- tree, stripped it of all its green folinge, and threw it to the winds, and then went on. When Manabozho reached the spot, the tree addressed him. " Great chief,'* said the tree, ** will you give me mj life again ? Paup-Puk-Keewiss has killed mo." ii , ^ 68 PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. " Yes," replied Manabozho ; and it took him some time to gather the scattered foliage, and then renewed the pursuit. Paup-Puk-Keevviss repeated the same thing with the hemlock, and with various other trees, for Manabozho would always stop to restore what he had destroyed. By this means he got in advance ; but Manabozho persevered, and was fast overtaking him, when Paup-Puk-Keevviss happened to see an elk. He asked him to take him on Lis back, which the elk did, and for some time he made great progress, but still Manabozho was in. sight. Paup-Puk-Keewiss dis- mounted, and, coming to a large sandstone rock, he broke it in pieces and scattered the grains. Manabozho was so close upon him at this place that he had almost caught him ; but the foundation of the rock cried out, *' llayel Ne-me-sho, Paup-Puk-Keewiss has spoiled me. Will you not restore me to life ?" " Yes," re))lied Manabozho ; and he restored the rock to its previous shape. He then pushed on in the pursuit of Paup-Puk-Keewiss, and had got so near as to put out his arm to seize him ; but Paup-Puk-Kee- wiss dodged him, and immediately raised such a dust and commotion by whirlwinds as made the trees break, and the sand and leaves dance in the air. Again and Manabozho's hand wcs put out to catch him ; but he dodged him at every turn, and kept up such a tumult of dust, that in the thickest of it, he dashed into a hollow tree which had been blown down, and changed himself into a snako, and crei)t out at the roots. Well that he did ; for at the moment he had got out, Mana- bozho, who is Ogee-bau-ge-mon,* struck it with his * A speoios of lightning. I'AUP-ruK-KEEWlSS. power, and it wa^ in f ^^ '""; '">"'• At a distance heTr Ma„ab„^|,„ p,.,,,,^, "•ock jutting out into the lake ,, " '"•' '"''''' '''"'f "t tl'e precipice, wl.ich wa It " >"", '"'■ ""^ <•"»' "f 7'»'' -ear, the local „ S''/ 1 ""'f '"^- ^^ '■« "»<"• a-"l told l.i,„ to It i, T,''"'' ""''"'^ '"-^ ~enT^r'^^^»^-^^^^^ guest-- '"^^•"'' »f l"m, but l,e said to his ^ortlTop;:;::'^"'' '""' ' -•"'' -«"- die .ith "Open itI"iIanabo.ho again cried i 'le man to keut «ilo..f n. • "l-'t^. "Very ,veli," 1,^ Td „f .»'"'^'' '^ f-v .no- "J^^lit to live " Ti.. . ' ^ ^'^e you onlv till -//Ho sh:t upi— ear ^'"' ^"'^^' ''-•^ <:" :."-•. 'iv Lack c,oS,S:'e7.,r.''' "-" '•-'" ■ J^rk shadows afur 'y, and tl •*"* OUUUOVVS afar nnrl K U- i . *" "^ l^" nnublin,. noise of th c^^n. , "" /''^■'■'' ""^ ''»""' "ear to tl,e precipice iZ fl^ 1 "'^'"'- ^' "" tottered, and fell A . i , "'^ *'''"J '"ek tiicnortall'^ ':,./"'"".''- 'heir ruins where. iirevv the «y eunje iidit tl»e mortal bodies of JJr'iiniiin. vS Was r sh _ — * " Jt was only then th I'uup.puk-K split, ^''•e cnisjied tt i'uup-ruk-K tiewiss and the nia nito. "eulJydead. He had hZi ..;'"'''''' ^'^""^ ''« .« . I.... , . ""'^ *^^^" killed in di/n........ ...... . "i>c's ; bat now his bod Munabozh (I ou '"0 eanic and look tl y, in human sh ''<-'" t animal "i'f, was crnshfd. ""i'Juk.ivt.cwiss,"«halinotU 70 TAUP-PU Iv-KEEWISS. again permitted to live on the carlii. I will give you thesha[)e of the war-eagle, and you will be the chief of all fowls, and your duty shall be to watch over their destinies." » OSSEO, OR THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR. ALGONQUIN LEGEND. There once lived an Indian in the north, wlio had ten danghters, all of whom grew up to womanhood. They were noted for their beauty, but especially Owee- nee, the youngest, wlio was very independent in her way of thinking. She was a great admirer of romantic places, and paid very little attention to the numerous young men who came to her father's lodge for the pur- pose of seeing her. Ilcr elder sisters were all solicited in marriage from their parents, and one after another, went off to dwell in the lodges of their husbands, or mothers-in-law, but she would listen to r.- proposals of the kind. At last she married an old ma ) cnlled Osseo, who was scarcely able to walk, and was too ]>oor to have things like others. They jeered an'' laughed at her, on all sides, but she seemed to be quite happy, and said to them, " It is my choice, and you will sec in the end, who has acted the wiser>t." Soon after, tlie s'sters and their husbands aiul their ])arents were all invited to a feast, and as they walked along the path, they could not help pitying their young and handsome sister, who had such uu uiisuituble mate. Osseo often stopped and ^, p-' 72 OSSEO; OR, "m p^azed upwards, but they could perceive nothing in the direction he looked, unless it was the faint glimmering of the evening star. They heard him muttering to him- self as they went along, and one of the elder sisters caught the words, "Sho-wain-ne-me-shin nosa."* "Poor old man," said she, "he is talking to his father, what a pity it is, that he would not fall and break his neck, that our sister might have a handsome young husband." Pre- sently they passed a large hollow log, lying with one e\id toward the path. Tiie moment Osseo, who was of the turtle totem, came to it, he stopped short, uttered a loud and peculiar yell, and then dashing into one end of the log, he came out at the other, a most beautiful young man, and springing back to the road, he led oif the party with steps as light as the reindeer, f But on turning round to look for his wife, behold, she had been changed into an old, decrepit woman, who was bent almost double, and walked with a cane. The husband, however, treated her very kindly, as she had done him during the time of his enchantment, and constantly ad- dressed her by the term of ne-ne-moosh-a, or my sweet- heart. When they came to the hunter's lodge with whom they were to feast, they found the feast ready prepared, and as soon as their entertainer had finished his ha- ra'^'ue (in which he told them his feasting was in honor of the Evening or Woman's Star), they began to par- take of the poriion dealt out, according to age and character, to cacii one. Tlic food was very delicious, and they were ail happy but Osseo, who looked at his * Pity me, my f.itlior. t The ('. HylvoHtriH ibits North America, nortli of lati- tude 46 \ THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR. ^3 wife and then gazed upward, as if he was looking into the substance of the sky. Sounds were soon heard, as if from far-off voices in tlie air, and they became plainer and plainer, till he could clearly distinguish some of the words. "My son — my son," said the voice, 'I have seen your afflictions and pity your wants. I come to call you away from a scene that is stained with blood and tears. The earth is full of sorrows. Giants and sor- cerers, the enemies of mankind, walk abroad in it, and are scattered throughout its length. Every night they are lifting their voices to the Power of Evil, and every day they make themselves busy in casting evil in the hunter's i>ath. You have long been their victim, but shall be their victim no more. Tlie spell you were under is broken. Your evil genius is overcome. I have cast him down by my superior strength, and it is this strength I now exert for your hai)piness. Ascend, my son — ascend into the skies, and partake of the feast I have prepared fov you in the stars, and bring with you those you love. " The food set before you is enchanted and blessed. Fear not to partake of it. It is endowed with magic power to give immortality to mortals, and to change men to spirits. Your bowls and kettles siiall be no longer wood and earth. The ono shall become silver, and the other wampum. They shall shine like lire, and glisten like the most beautiful scarlet. Every female shall also change her state and looks, and no longer be (loomed to laborious tasks. She shall ])ut on the beauty of the starlight, and become a shining bird of the air, clothed with winning featliers. Siie shall dance and not work — she shall sing and not cry." "My beams," continued the voice, "shine faintly on 7 T4 OSHEO; UK, your lo(]«^e, but they have a power to transforni it into the lightness of the skies, and decorate it with the colors of the clouds. Come, Osseo, my son, and dwell no longer on earth. Think strongly on my words, and look steadfastly at ray beams. My power is now at its height. Doubt not — delay not. It is the voice of the Si)irit of the stars that calls you away to happiness and celestial rest." The words were intelligible to Osseo, but his com- panions thought them some far-off sounds of music, or birds singing in the woods. Very soon the lodge began to shake and tremble, and they felt it rising into the air. It was too late to run out, for they were already as high rs the tops of the trees. Osseo looked around him as tlie lodge passed through the topmost boughs, and b !iold ! their wooden dishes were changed into shells '"'f a scarlet color, the poles of the lodge to gliUering vvii'js of silver, and the bark thjit covered them into the gorgeous wings of insects. A moment more, and his Ijrothers and sisters, and their parents and friends, were transformed into birds of various plumage. Some were jays, some partridges and pigeons, and others gay sing- ing birds, who hoi)ped about displaying their glittering feathers, and singing their song. But Oweenee still kept her earthly garb, and exhibited all the indications of extreme age. He again cast his eyes in the direction of the clouds, and uttered that peculiar yell, which had given him the victory at the hollow log. In a moment the youth and beauty of his wife returned ; her dingy garments assumed the - inirz; appearance of green silk, and her cane was chii'i'ved into a^ii^er feather. The lodge again shook auu trembled, for they were now juissing through the uppermost clouds, and they imnie- THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR. T5 diatcly after foniul themselves iu the Evening Star, the residence of Osseo's father. " My son," said the old man, "hang that cage of birds, which you huve brought along in your hand, at the door, and I will inform you why you and your wife have been sent for." Osseo obeyed the directions, and then took his seat iu the lodge. "Pity was shown to you," re- sumed the king of the star, "on account of the contempt of your wife's sister, who laughed at her ill fortune, and ridiculed you while you were under the power of that wicked spirit, whom you overcame at the log. That spirit lives in the next lodge, being a small star you see on the left of mine, and he has always felt envious of my family, because we had greater power than he had, and especially on account of our having had the care com- mitted to us of the female world. lie failed in several attempts to destroy your brothers-in-law and sisters-in- law, but succeeded at last in transforming yourself and your wife into decrepit old persons. You nmst be care- ful and not let the light of his beams fall on you, while you are here, for therein is the power of his enchant- ment ; a ray of light is the bow and arrows he uses." Osseo lived happy and contented in the parental lodge, and in due time his wife presented him with a son, who grew up rapidly, and was the image of his father. He was very quick pnd ready in learning every- thing that was done in his grandfather's dominions, but he wished also to lea?'n the art of hunting, for he had heard that this was a favorite pursuit below. To gratify him, his father made him a bow and arrows, and he then let the birds out of the cage that he might l)ractise in shooting. lie soon became expert, and the very first day brought down a bird, but when he went to pick it up, to his amazement, it was a beautiful young « •76 OSSEO ; OR, THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR. woman with the arrow sticking in her breast. It was one of his younger aunts. The moment her blood fell upon the surface of that pure and spotless planet, the charm was dissolved. The boy immediately found him- self sinking, but was partly upheld, by something like wings, till he passed through the lower clouds, and he then suddenly dropped upon a high, romantic island in a large lake. He was pleased on looking up, to see all his aunts and uncles following him in the form of birds, and he soon discovered the silver lodge, with his father and mother, descending with its waving barks looking like so iiiany insects' gilded wings. It rested on the highest cliffs of the island, and here they fixed their residence. They all resumed their natural shapes, but were diminished to the size of fairies ; as a mark of homage to the King of the Evening Star, they never failed, on every pleasant evening, during the summer season, to join hands, and dance upon the top of the rocks. These rocks were quickly observed by the Indians to be covered, in moonlight evenings, with a larger sort of Puk Wudj Ininees, or little men, and were called Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong, or turtle spirits, and the island is named from them to this day.* Their shining lodge can be seen in the summer evenings when the moon shines strongly on the pinnacles of ihe rocks, and the fishermen, who go near those high cliffs at night, have even heard the voices of the happy little dancers. ■* Mickilimackinac, tlio term alludod to, is tlio original French orthography of Misii en i mok in oxc, tho local form (sing, and plu.), of Turtle Spirits. KWA8IND, OR THE FEARFULLY STRONG MAN. Pauwattng* was a villaj^e where the young men amused themselves very much in ancient times, in sports and ball-playing. One day, as they were engaged in their sports, one of the strongest and most active, at the moment he was about to succeed in a trial of lifting, slipped and fell upon his back. "Hal hal ha !" cried the lookers-on, " you will never rival Kwasind." He was deeply mor- tified, and when the sport was over, these words came to his mind. He could not recollect any man of this name. He thought he would ask the old m.an, the story-teller of the village, the next time he came to the lodge. The opportunity soon occurred. " My grandfather," said he, " who was Kwasind ? I am very anxious to know what he could do." " Kwasind," the old man replied, " was a listless idle boy. He would not play when the other boys played, and his parents could never get him to do any kind of labor. He was always making excuses. His parents took 1^ m * /. c. I'lncc! of shallow cntarnct, named Saiilt tie Sfr. Afarie on the arrival of tho Freiicli. Thiri is the hc(d form of the worosing he would perish. He often dove down and ni .ed a long time under water, pursuing the animal from island to island ; and at last returned with the kingly prize. After this, his fame spread far and wide, and no hunter would presume to compete with him. " He helped Manabozho to clear away the obstruc- tions in the streams, and to remove the great wind-falls of trees from the valleys, the better to fit them for the residence of man. "He performed so many feats of strength and skill, that he excited the envy of the Puck-wudj lu-in-ee-sug, or fairies, who conspired against his life. ' For,' said they, * if this man is suffered to go on, in his career of strength and exploits, we shall presently have no work to perform. Our agency in the affairs of men must cease. He will undermine our power, and drive us, at last, into the water, where we must all perish, or be de- voured by the wicked Neebanawbaig.'* " The strength of Kwasind was all concentrated in the crown of his head. This was, at the same time, the * A kiii 4^ ^ v: #;»v -"' Photographic Sciences Corporation 13 WIST MAIN STRIIT WIUTIR.N.Y. USM (7U)I73-4S03 80 kwasind; or, the fearfully strong man. only vulnerable part of his body ; and there was but one species of weapon which could be successfully em- ployed in making any impression upon it. The fairies carefully hunted through the woods to find this weapon. It was the burr or seed vessel of the white pine. They gathered a quantity of this article, and waylaid Kwa- sind at a point on the river, where the red rocks jut into the water, forming rude castles — a point which he was accustomed to pass in his canoe. They waited a long time, making merry upon these rocks, for it was a highly romantic spot. At last the wished -for object appeared; Kwasind came floating calmly down the stream, on the afternoon of a summer's day, languid with the heat of the weather, and almost asleep. When his canoe came directly beneath the cliff, the tallest and stoutest fairy began the attack. Others followed his example. It was a long time before they could hit the vulnerable part, but success at length crowned their efforts, and Kwasind sunk, never to rise more. " Ever since this victory, the Puck Wudj Ininee have made that point of rock a favorite resort. The hunters often hear them laugh, and see their little plumes shake as they pass this scene on light summer evenings. "My son," continued the old man, "take care that you do not imitate the faults of Kwasind. If he had not so often exerted his strength merely for the sake of boasfitu/, he would not, perhaps, have made the fairies feel jealous of him. It is better to use the strength you have, in a quiet useful way, thnn to sigh after the possession of a giant's power. For if you run, or wrestle, or jump, or fire at a mark, only as well nsyour equals in years, nobody will envy you. IJut if you would needs be a Kwasind, you must expect a Kwa- sind's fate." THE JEEBI, OR TWO GHOSTS. FROM THE ODJIBWA. There lived a hunter in the north who had a wife and one diild. Ilis lod<»:c stood far off in the forest, several days' journey from any other. lie spent his days in hunting, and his evenings in relating to his wife the incidents that had befallen him. As game was very abundant, he found no difficulty in killing as much as they wanted. Just in all his acts, he lived a peaceful and happy life. One evening during the winter season, it chanced that he remained out later than usual, and his wife began to feel uneasy, for fear some accident had befallen him. It was already dark. She listened attentively, and at last heard the sound of ni)proaching footstei)s. Not doubting it was her husband, she went to the door and beheld two strange females. She bade them enter, and invited them to remain. She observed that they were total strangers in the country. There was something so peculiar in their looks, air, and manner, that she was uneasy in their company. They would not come near the lire; they sat in a ren.otc part of tiie lodge, were shy and taciturn, ■ 1 82 THE JEEBI; OR, aiul drew tlicir g;arinents about tlicm in sucli a manner as nearly to hide their faces. So fiir as she coukl judge, they were pale, hollow-eyed, and long-visaged, very thin and emaciated. There was but little light in the lodge, as the fire was low, and served by its fitful flashes, rather to increase than dispel their fears. "Merciful spirit I" cried a voice from the opposite part of the lodge, "there are two corpvses clothed with garments." The hunter's wife turned around, but seeing nobody, she concluded the sounds were but gusts of wind. She trembled, and was ready to sink to the earth. Her husband at this moment entered and dispelled Ler fears. He threw down the carcass of a large fat deer. "Behold what a fine and fat animal," cried the mysterious females, and they immediately ran and pulled olf pieces of the whitest fat,* which they ate with greedi- ness. The hunter and his wife looked on with astonish- ment, but remained silent. Tiiey supposed their guests might have been famished. Next day, however, the same unusual conduct was repeated. The strange fe- males tore off the fat and devoured it with eagerness. The third day the hunter thought he would anticipate their wants by tying up a portion of the fattest pieces for them, which he placed on the top of his load. They accepted it, but still appeared dissatisfied, and \vcnt to the wife's portion and tore oif more. Tlie man and his wife felt surprised at such rude and unaccountable con- duct, but they remained silent, for they respected their guests, and had observed that they had hvc 'tended with marked good luck during the resident. A these mysterious visitors. * Tho fat of animals is cstoemetl hy the N. A. Indians among the choioi'st parts. TWO (i HOSTS. Ill other respects, the dcportmeut of the females was strictly unexceptionable. They were modest, distant, and silent. They never uttered a word during the day. At night they would occupy themselves in procuring wood, which they carried to the lodge, and then return- ing the implements exactly to the places in which they had found them, resume their places without speaking. They were never known to stay out until daylight. They never laughed or jested. The winter had nearly passed away, without anything uncommon happening, when, one evening, the hunter stayed out very late. The moment he entered and laid down his day's hunt as usual before his wife, the two females began to tear off the fat, in so unceremonious a way, that her anger was excited. She constrained her- self, however, in a measure, but did not conceal her feelings, although she said but little. The gnests ob- served the excited state of her mind, and became unusu- ally reserved and uneasy. The good hunter saw the change, and carefully inquired into the cause, but his wife denied having used any hard words. They retired to their couches, and he tried to compose himself to sleep, but could not, for the sobs and sighs of the two females were incessant. lie arose on his couch and addressed them as follows : — "Tell me," said he, "what is it that gives you pain of mind, and causes you to utter those sighs, lias my wife given you offence, or trespassed on the rights of hospitality ?" They replied in the negative. "We have been treated by you with kindness and affection. It is not for any sli"jht we have received that we weep. Our mission is not to you only. We come from the land of the dead to test mankind, and to try tiie sincerity of the living. •I 1 i 84 THE JEEBI ; OR, TWO GHOSTS. n I * rl^- Often we have heard the bereaved by death say that if the dead could be restored, they would devote their lives to make them happy. "We have been moved by the bitter lamentations which have reached the place of the dead, and have come to make proof of the sincerity of those who have lost friends. Three moons were al- lotted us by the Master of life to make the trial. More than half the time had been successfully past, when the angry feelings of your wife indicated the irksomeness you felt at our presence, and has made us resolve on our departure." They continued to talk to the hunter and his wife, gave them instructions as to a future life, and pro- nounced a blessing upon them. " There is one point," they added, " of which we wish to spet)-k. You have thought our conduct very strange in rudely possessing ourselves of the choicest parts of your hunt. That was the point of trial selected to put you to. It is the wife's peculiar privilege. For another to usurp it, we knew to be the severest trial of her, and consequently of your temper and feelings. We know your manners and customs, but we came to prove you, not by a compliance with them, but a violation of them. Pardon us. We are the agents of him who sent us. Peace to your dwelling, adieu!" When they ceased, total darkness filled the lodge. No object could be seen. The inmates heard the door open and shut, but they never saw more of the two Jeebi-uo. The hunter found the success which they had promised. He became celebrated in the chase, and never wanted for anything. He had many children, all of whom grew up to manliood, and health ; peace, and long life were the rewards of his hospitality. lAGOO. CHIPPEWA. Iaooo is the name of a personage noted in Indian lore for having given extravagant narrations of what- ever he had seen, heard, or accomplished. It seems that he always saw extraordinary things, made extra- ordinary journeys, and performed extraordinary feats. He could not look out of his lodge and see things as other men did. If he described a bird, it had a most singular variety of brilliant plumage. The animals he met with were all of the monstrous kind ; they had eyes like orbs of fire, and claws like hooks of steel, and could step over the top of an Indian lodge. He told of a serpent he had seen, which had hair on its neck like a mane, and feet resembling a quadruped; and if one were to take his own account of his exploits and observations, it would be difficult to decide whether his strength, his activity, or his wisdom should be most admired. lagoo did not appear to have been endowed with the ordinary faculties of other men. His eyes appeared to be magnifiers, and the tympanum of his cars so con- structed that what appeared to common observers to be but the sound of a zephyr, to him had a far closer re- semblance to the noise of tliunder. His imagination appeared to l^e of so exuberant a character, that he scarcely required more than a drop of water to construct 8 "* I i 86 lAGOO. an ocean, or a grain of sand to form the earth. And he had so happy an exemption from both the restraints of judgment and moral accountability, that he never found the slightest difficulty in accommodating his facts to the most enlarged credulity. Nor was his ample thirst for the marvel Ions ever quenched by attempts to reconcile statements the most strange, unaccountable, and pre- posterous. Such was lagoo, the Indian story-teller, whose name is associated with all that is extravagant and marvel- lous, and has long been established in the hunter's vocabulary as a perfect synonym for liar, and is bandied about as a familiar proverb. If a hunter or warrior, in telling his exploits, undertakes to embellish them ; to overrate his merits, or in any other way to excite the incredulity of his hearers, he is liable to be rebuked with the remark, "So here we have lagoo come again." And he seems to hold the relative rank in oral narra- tion which our written literature awards to Baron Munchausen, Jack Fal&taflF, and Captain Lemuel Gul- liver. Notwithstanding all this, there are but a few scraps of his actual stories to be found, lie first attracted notice by giving an account of a water lily, a single leaf of which, he averred, was sufficient to make a petticoat and upper garments for his wife and daughter. One evening he was sitting in his lodge, on the banks of a river, and hearing the quacking of ducks on the stream, he fired through the lodge door at a venture. He killed a swan that happened to be flying by, and twenty brace of ducks in the stream. But this did not check the force of his shot ; they passed on, and struck the heads of two loons, at the moment they were coming up from beneath the water, aud even went beyond and killed a lAOOO. 8T most extraordinary large fish called Moshkeenozha.'** On another occasion he had killed a deer, and alter skinning it, was carrying the carcass on his shoulders, when he spied some stately elks on the plain before him. He immediately gave them chase, and had run, over hill and dale, a distance of half a day's travel, be- fore he recollected that he had the deer's carcass on his shoulders. One day, as he was passing over a tract of mushkeeg or bog-land, he saw musquitoes of such enormous size, that he staked his reputation on the fact that a single wing of one of the insects was sufficient for a sail to his canoe, and the proboscis as big as his wife's shovel. But he was favored with a still more extraordinary sight, in a gigantic ant, which passed him, as he was watching a beaver's lodge, dragging the entire carcass of a hare. At another time, for he was ever seeing or doing something wonderful, he got out of Sijoking weed, and in going into the woods in search of some, he discovered a bunch of the red willow, or maple bush, of such a luxuriant growth, that he was industriously occupied half a day walking round it. * TL.0 muscalunge. SIIAWONDASEK FROM THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE ODJIBWAS. \ if MuDJEKEWis and nine brothers eonqnered the Mam- moth Bear, and obtained the Sacred Belt of Wampum, the great object of previous warlike enterprise, and the great means of happiness to men. The chief honor of this achievement was awarded to Mudjekewis, the youngest of the ten, who received the government of the West Winds. lie is therefore called Kabeyun, the father of the winds. To his son, Wabun, he gave the East; to Siiawondasee, the south, and to Kabibo- NOKKA, the north. Manabozho being an illegitimate son, was left unprovided. When he grew up, and ob- tained the secret of his birth, he went to war against his father, Kabeyun, and having brought the latter to terms, he received the government of the Northwest Winds, ruling jointly with his brother Kabibonokka the tempests from that quarter of the heavens. Shawondasee is represented as an affluent, plethoric old man, who has grown unwieldy from repletion, and seldom moves. He keeps his eyes steadfastly fixed on the north. When he sighs, in autumn, we have those balmy southern airs, which communicate warmth and delight over the northern hemisphere, and make the Indian Summer. One day, while gazing toward the north, he beheld SIIAWONDASEE. 89 a beautiful young woman of slender and majestic form, standing on the plains. She api)cared in the same place for several days, but what most attracted his ad- miration, was her bright and flowing locks of yellow hair. Ever dilatory, however, he contented himself with gazing. At length he saw, or fancied he saw, her head enveloped in a pure white mass like snow. This excited his jealousy toward his brother Kabibo- nokka, and he threw out a succession of short and rapid sighs — when lo I the air was filled with light filaments of a silvery hue, but the object of his afi'ections had for ever vanished. In reality, the southern airs had blown off the fine-winged seed-vessels of the prairie dandelion. "My son," said the narrator, " it is not wise to differ in our tastes from other people ; nor ought we to put off, through slothfulness, what is best done at once. Had Shawondasee conformed to the tastes of his coun- trymen, he would not have been an admirer of yellow hair ; and if he had evinced a proper activity in his youth, his mind would not have run flower-gathering in his age." .#■1 8* rUCK WUDJ ININEES, OB THE VANISHING LITTLE MEN. AN ODJIBWA MYTH OF FAIRIES. I I There was a time when all* the inhabitants of the earth had died, excepting two helpless children, a baby boy and a little girl. When their parents died, these children were asleep. The little girl, who was the elder, was the first to wake. She looked around her, but seeing nobody besides her little brother, who lay asleep, she quietly resumed her bed. At the end of ten days her brother moved without opening his eyes. At the end of ten days more he changed his position, lying on the other side. The girl soon grew up to woman's estate, bnt the boy increased in stature very slowly. It was a long time before he could even creep. When he was able to walk, his sister made him a little bow and arrows, and suspended around his neck a small shell, saying, you shall be called Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell. Every day he would go out with his lit- tle bow, shooting at the small birds. The first bird he killed was a tomtit. His sister was highly pleased when he took it to her. She carefully skinned and stuffed it, PUCK WUDJ ININEES; OR, VANlsniNG LITTLE MEN. 91 and put it away for him. Tlic next clay he killed a red squirrel. His sister preserved this too. The third day he killed a partridge (Pecna), whieh she stuffed and set up. After this, he acquired more courage, and would venture some distance from home. His skill and suc- cess as a hunter daily increased, and he killed the deer, bear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the forest. In fine he became a great hunter. He had now arrived to maturity of years, but re- mained a perfect infant in stature. One day, walking about, he came to a small lake. It was in the winter season. He saw a man on the ice killing beavers. He appeared to be a giant. Comparing himself to this great man he appeared no bigger than an insect. He seated himself on the shore, and watched his movements. When the large man had killed many beavers, he put them on a hand sled which he had, and pursued his way home. When he saw him retire, he followed him, and wielding his magic shell, cut off the tail of one of the beavers, and ran home with his trophy. When the tall stranger reached his lodge, with his sled load of beavers, he was surprised to find the tail of one of them gone, for he had not observed the movements of the little hero of the shell. The next day Wa-Dis-Ais-Imtd, went to the same lake. The man had already fixed his load of beavers on his odaw'hon, or sled, and commenced his return. But he nimbly ran forward, and overtaking him, suc- ceeded, by the same means, in securing another of the beaver's tails. When the man saw that he had lost another of this most esteemed part of the animal, he was very angry. I wonder, said he, what dog it is, that has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I would make his Ocsh quiver at the point of my lance. Next 92 PUCK WUDJ ININEES; OR, day he pursued his hunting at the beaver dam near the lake, and was followed again by the little man of the shell. On this occasion the hunter had used so much expedition, that he had accomplished his object, and nearly reached his home, before our tiny hero could overtake him. He nimbly drew his shell and cut off another beaver's tail. In all these pranks, he availed himself of his power of invisibility, and thus escaped observation. When the man saw that the trick had been so often repeated, his anger was greater than ever. He gave vent to his feelings in words. He looked carefully around to see whether he could discover any tracks. But he could find none. His unknown visitor had stepped so lightly as to leave no track. Next day he resolved to disappoint him by going to his beaver pond very early. When Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid reached the place, he found the fresh traces of his work, but he had already returned. He followed his tracks, but failed to overtake him. When he came in sight of the lodge the stranger was ia front of it, employed in skinning his beavers. As he stood looking at him, he thought, I will let him see me. Presently the man, who proved to be no less a personage than Manabozho, looked up and saw him. After regarding him with attention, " Who are you, little man," said Manabozho. " I have a mind to kill you." The little hero of the shell replied, " If you were to try to kill me you could not do it." When he returned home he told his sister that they must separate. " I must go away," said he, " it is my fate. You too," he added, " must go away soon. Tell me where you would wish to dwell." She said. " I would like to go to the place of the breaking of day- liglit. I have always loved the cast. The earliest 1 THE VANISniNG LITTLE MEN. 93 glimpses of light are from that quarter, and it is, to my mind, the most beautiful part of the heavens. After I get there, my brother, whenever you see the clouds in that direction of various colors, you may think that your sister is painting her face." "And I," said he, "my sister, shall live on the moun- tains and rocks. There I can see you at the earliest hour, and there the streams of water are clear, and the air pure. And I shall ever be called Puck Wudj Ini- NEE, or the little wild man of the mountains." "But," he resumed, " before we part forever, I must go and try to find some Manitoes." He left her, and travelled over the surface of the globe, and then went far down into the earth. He had been treated well wherever he went. At last he found a giant Manito, who had a large kettle which was forever boiling. The giant regarded him with a stern look, and then took him up in his hand, and threw him unceremoniously into the kettle. But by the protection of his personal spirit, he was shielded from harm, and with much ado got out of it and escaped. He returned to his sister, and related his rovings and misadventures. He finished his story by addressing her thus : " My sister, tliere is a Manito, at each of the four corners of the earth.* There is also one above them, far in the sky; and last," continued he, " there is another, and wicked one, who lives deep down in the earth. We must now separate. When the winds blow from the four corners of the earth you must then go. Tiicy will carry you to the place you wish. I go to the rocks and mountains, 1 * Tlio opinion tlint t]w earth is a s(inar(' and h'vol ]»lain, nnd that th(5 winds blow from its lour torntMs, is a very ancient ea»toru opiuiou. 94 PUCK WUDJ ININEES; OR, VANISHING LITTLE MEN, where my kindred will ever delight to dwell." He then took his ball stick, and commencod running up a high mountain, whooping as he went. Presently the winds blew, and, as he predicted, his sister was borne by them to the eastern sky, where she has ever since been, and her name is the Morning Star. Blow, winds, blow ! my sister lingers For her dwelling in the sky, Where the morn, with rosy fingers. Shall her cheeks with vermil dye. There, my earliest views directed. Shall from her their color take, And her smiles, through clouds reflected, Guide mo on, by wood or lake. While I range the highest mountains. Sport in valleys green and low, Or beside our Indian fountains liaise my tiny hip holla. PEZHIU AND WABOSE, CR THE LYNX AND HARE. A CHIPPEWA FABLE. A LYNX almost famished, met a Iiare one day in the woods, in the winter season, when food was very scarce. The hare, however, stood up on a rock, and was safe from its enemy. " Wabose,'' said the lynx, in a very kind manner, "come here, my little white one,* I wish to talk to you.'^ " Oh no," rci)lied the hare, " I am afraid of yon, and my mother told me never to go and talk to strangers." *' You are very pretty," answered the lynx, "and a very obedient child to your parents, but you must know that I am a relative of yours. I wish to send some word to your lodge. Come down and see me." The hare was pleased to be called pretty, and when she heard that it was a relative, she jumped down from the place where she stood, and was immediately torn in pieces by the lynx.f I * Sach Is tho meaning of Wauose, f Oneuta. PEBOAN AND SEEGWUN. AN ALLEGORY OF WINTER AND SPRING. ODJIBWA. ^ An old man was sitting in his lodge, by the side of a frozen stream. It was the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. lie appeared very old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and he trem- bled in every joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing but the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the new-fallen snow. One day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached and entered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth, his eyes spark- led with animation, and a smile played upon his lips. , He walked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet grass, in place of a warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch of flowers in his hand. "Ah, ray son," said the old man, "I am happy to sec you. Come in. Come, tell me of your adventures, and whnt strange Innds you have been to see. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and exploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, nnd we will amuse ourselves." PEBOAN AND SEEGWUN. 9T lie then drew from his sack a curiously-wrought an- tique pipe, and having filled it with tobacco, rendered mild by an admixture of certain leaves, handed it to his guest. When this ceremony was concluded they began to speak. "I blow my breath," said the old man, "and the streams stand still. The water becomes stiff and hard as clear stone." "I breathe," said the young man, "and flowers spring up all over the plains." "I shake my locks," retorted the old man, "and snow covers the land. The leaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them away. The birds get up from the water, and fly to a distant land. The animals hide themselves from my breath, and the very ground becomes as hard as flint." " I shake my ringlets," rejoined the young man, " and warm showers of soft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of the earth, like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice recalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music fills the groves wherever 1 walk, and all nature rejoices." At length the sun bejran to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place. The tongue of the old man be- came silent. The robin and bluebird began to sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the door, and the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the vernal breeze. Daylight fully revealed to the young man the cha- racter of his entertainer. When he looked upon him, he hud tlie icy visnge of Pcboan.* Streams began to * Wiiitor. 98 PEBOAN AND SEEGWUN. flow from his eyes. As the sun increased, he grew less and less in stature, and anon had melted completely away. Nothing remained on the place of his lodge lire but the miskodeed,* a small white flower, with a pink border, which is one of the earliest species of northern plants. * The Claytonia Virginica. ): MON-DAW-MIN, OB THE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN. ODJIBWA. In times past, a poor Indian was living with bis wife and children in a beautiful part of the country. He was not only poor, but inexpert in procuring food for his family, and his children were all too young to give him assistance. Although poor, he was a man of a kind and contented" disposition. He was always thank- ful to the Great Spirit for everything he received. The same disposition was inherited by his eldest son, who had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the ceremony of the Ke-ig-uish-im-owin, or fast, to see what kind of a spirit would be his guide and guardian through life. Wunzh, for this was his name, had been an obedient boy from his infancy, and was of a pensive, thcnghtful, and mild disposition, so that he was beloved by the whole family. As soon as the first indications of spring appeared, they built him the customary little lodge at a retired spot, some distance from their own, where he would not be disturbed during this solemn rite. In the mean time he prejjared himself, and imme- diately went into it, and commenced his fust. The first 100 mon-daw-min; or, few days, he amused himself, in the mornings, by walk- ing in the woods and over the mountains, examining the early plants and flowers, and in this way prepared himself to enjoy his sleep, and, at the same time, stored his mind with pleasant ideas for his dreams. While he rambled through the woods, he felt a strong desire to know how the plants, herbs, and berries grew, without any aid from man, and why it was that some species were good to eat, and others possessed medicinal or poisonous juices. He recalled these thoughts to mind after he became too languid to walk about, and had confined himself strictly to the lodge ; he wished he could dream of something that would prove a benefit to his father and family, and to all others. "True!" he thought, " the Great Spirit made all things, and it is to him that we owe our lives. But could he not make it easier for us to get our food, than by hunting animals and taking fish ? I must try to find out this in ray visions." On the third day he became weak and faint, and kept his bed. He fancied, while thus lying, that he saw a handsome young man coming down from the sky and advancing towards him. He was richly and gayly dressed, having on a great many garments of green and yellow colors, but differing in their deeper or lighter shades. He had a plume of waving feathers on his head, and all his motions were graceful. ** I am sent to you, my fViend," said the celestial visitor, " by that Great Spirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has seen and knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and benevolent wish to do good to your people, and to procure a benefit for them, and that you do not seek for strength in war or the praise of warriors. I am .f THE ORIGIN OP INDIAN CORN. 101 S sent to instruct you, and show you how you can do your kindred good." He then told the young man to arise, and prepare to wrestle with him, as it was only by this means that he could hope to succeed in his wishes. Wunzh knew he was weak from fasting, but he felt his courage rising in his heart, and immediately got up, determined to die rather than fail. He com- menced the trial, and after a protracted effort, was al- most exhausted, when the beautiful stranger said, " My friend, it is enough for once ; I will come again to try you ;" and, smiling on him, he ascended in the air in the same direction from which he came. The next day the celestial visitor reappeared at the same hour and renewed the trial. Wunzh felt that his strength was even lees than the day before, but the courage of his mind seemed to increase in proportion as his body became weaker. Seeing this, the stranger again spoke to him in the same words he used before, adding, " To- morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is the only way you can overcome me, and ob- tain the boon you seek." On the third day he again appeared at the same time and renewed the struggle, Tiie poor youth was very faint in body, but grew stronger in mind at every contest, and was deterniined to prevail or perish in the attempt. He exerted his utmost powers, and after the contest had been continued the usual time, the stranger ceased his efforts anil declared himself conquered. For the first time he entered the lodge, and sitting down beside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to him, telling him in what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his victory. "You have won your desires of the Great Si)irit," said the stranger. " You have wrestled manfully. 9* 102 mon-daw-min; or, To-morrow will be the seventh day of your fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and as it is the last day of trial, you will prevail. I know this, and now tell you what you must do to benefit your family and your tribe. To-morrow," he repeated, " I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the last time ; and, as soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip oflf ray garments and throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it soft, and bury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body in the earth, and do not disturb it, but come oc- casionally to visit the place, to see whether I have come to life, and be careful never to let the grass or weeds grow on my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh earth. If you follow my instructions, you will accomplish your object of doing good to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I now teach you." He then shook him by the hand and dis- appeared. In the morning the youth's father came with some slight refreshments, saying, " My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will favor you, he will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require that.'' "My father," replied the youth, " wait till the sun goes down. I have a particular reason for extending my fast to that hour." " Yery well," said the old man, " I shall wait till the hour arrives, and you feel inclined to eat." At the usual hour of the day the sky-visitor returned, and the trial of strength was renewed. Although the youth had not availed himself of his father's offer of food, he felt that new strength had been given to him, TUE ORIGIN OP INDIAN CORN. 103 and that exertion had renewed his strength and forti- fied his courage. He grasped his angelic antagonist with supernatural strength, threw him down, took from him his beautiful garments and plume, and finding him dead, immediately buried him on the spot, talcing all the precautions he had been told of, and being very confident, at the same time, that his friend would again come to life. He then returned to his father's lodge, and partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him. But ho never for a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited it through- out the spring, and weeded out the grass, and kept the ground in a soft and pliant state. Very soon he saw the tops of the green plumes coming through the ground ; and the more careful he was to obey his in- structions in keeping the ground in order, the faster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal the exploit from his father. Days and weeks had passed in this way. The summer was now drawing towards a close, when one day, after a long absence in hunting, Wunzh invited his father to follow him to the quiet and lonesome spot of his former fast. The lodge had been removed, and the weeds kept from growing on the circle where it stood, but in its place stood a tall and graceful plant, with bright-colored silken hair, sur- mounted with nodding plumes and stately leaves, and golden clusters on each side. " It is my friend," shouted the lad ; "it is the friend of all mankind. It is Mon- dawmin* We need no longer rely on hunting alone ; for, as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, * Tlie Algic name for corn. The word is manifestly a tri- nary compound from viotudo, spirit ; min, a grain or berry ; and iair, the verb substantive. 104 mon-daw-min; or, the origin op Indian corn. * .'i the ground itself will give us a living." He then pulled an ear. "See, ray father," said he, "this is what I fasted for. The great Spirit has listened to my voice, and sent us something new,* and henceforth our people will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters." He then communicated to his father the instructions given him by the stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he had pulled off the garments in his wrestling ; and having done this, directed him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin became brown, while all the milk was retained in the grain. The whole family then united in a feast on the newly-grown ears, expressing gratitude to the Merciful Spirit who gave it. So corn came into the world. * The Zea mays, it will bo recollected, is indigenous to America, and was unknown in Europe before 1495. NEZIIIK-E-WA-WA-SUN, OR THE LONE LIGHTNING. ODJIBWA. A LITTLE orphan boy who had no one to care for him, was once living with his uncle, who treated him very badly, making him do hard things and giving him very little to eat ; so that the boy pined away, he never grew much, and became, through hard usage, very thin and light. At last the uncle felt ashamed of this treatment, and determined to make amends for it, by fattening him up, but his real object was, to kill him by over-feeding. He told his wife to give the boy plenty of bijar's meat, and let him have the fat, which is thought to be the best part. They were both very as- siduous in cramming him, and one day came near choking him to death, by forcing the fat down his throat. The boy escaped and fled from the lodge. He knew not where to go, but wandered about. When night came on, he was afraid the wild beasts would eat him, so he climbed up into the forks of a high pine tree, and there he fell asleep in the branches, and had an aupoway, or ominous dream. A person appeared to him from the upper sky, and T' lOG nez[IIK-e-wa-wa-sun; or, the lone ltgiitnino. paid, *' My poor little lad, I pity you. and the bad usage you have received from your uncle has led me to visit you : follow me, and step in my tracks." Immediately his sleep left him, and he rose up and followed his guide, mounting up higher and higher into the air, until he reached the upper sky. Here twelve arrows were put into his hands, and he was told that there were a great many manitoes in the northern sky, against whom he must go to war, and try to waylay and shoot them. Accordingly he went to that part of the sky, and, at long intervals, shot arrow after arrow, until he had expended eleven, in vain attempt to kill the man- itoes. At the flight of each arrow, there was a long and solitary streak of lightning in the sky — then all w'as clear again, and not a cloud or spot could be seen. The twelfth arrow he held a long time in his hands, and looked around keenly on every side to spy the manitoes he was after. But these manitoes were very cunning, and could change their form in a moment. All they feared was the boy's arrows, for these were magic arrows, which had been given to him by a good spirit, and had power to kill them, if aimed aright. At length, the boy drew up his last arrow, settled in his aim, and let fly, as he thought, into the very heart of the chief of the manitoes ; but before the arrow, reached him, the manito changed himself into a rock. Into this rock, the head of the arrow sank deep and stuck fast. "Now your gifts are all expended," cried the en- raged manito, "and I will make an exami)le of your audacity and pride of heart, for lifting your bow against me" — and so saying, he transformed the boy into the Nc/.hik-c-wii wil sun, or Lone Lightning, which may be observed in the northern sky, to this day. 4 THE AK UK O JEESH, OB THE GROUNDHOG FAMILY. AN ODJIBWA FABLE. A FEMALE akukojcesli, or groundhog, with a numer- ous family of young ones, was burrowing in her wauzh, or hole in the ground, one long winter, in the north, when the young ones became impatient for f^pring. Every day the mother would go out and get roots and other things, which she brought in to them to eat ; and she always told them to lie close and keep warm, and never to venture towards the mouth of the wauzh. IJut they became very impatient at last to see the light and the green woods. "Mother," said they, "is it not almost spring?" "No I no !" said she, in a cross humor, "keep still and wait ]>atiently ; it hails, it snows, it is cold — it is windy. Why should you wish to go out ?" This she told them so often, and said it in such a bad temper, that they at last suspected some deception. One day she came in, after having been a long while absent, and fell asleep, with her mouth open. The little ones peeped in slily, and saw on her teeth the remains of the nice white bulbous roots of the mo-nu-wing, or adder's rr ■ I 108 AK UK O JEESU; OR, THE GROUNDHOG FAMILY. tongue violet. They at once knew it was spring, and without disturbing the old one, who only wanted to keep them in till they were full grown, away they scampered, out of the hole, and dispersed themselves about the forest, and so the family were all scattered. OPEECIIEE, OR THE ORIGIN OF THE llOBIN. FROM THE ODJIBWA. An old man had an only son named Oj)eechce, who had come to that age which is thouf^ht to be most pro- per to make the long and final fast, tiiat is to secure through life a guardian genius or sjurit. In the influ- ence of this choice, it is well known, our people have relied for their prosperity in after life ; it was, there- fore, an event of deep importance. Tile old man was ambitious that his son should sur- pass all others in whatever was deemed most wise and great among his tribe ; and, to fulfil his wishes, he thought it necessary that he should fast a much longer time than any of those persons, renowned for their prowess or wisdom, whose fame he coveted. He there- fore directed his son to prepare, with great ceremony, for the important event. After he had been in the sweating lodge and bath several times, he ordered him to lie down upon a clean mat, in a little lodge expressly prepared for him; telling him, at the same time, to endure his fast like a man, and that, at the expiration of ttrtlve days, he should receive food and the Ijlcssing of his father. 10 f^ It . I ■ ■ no opeeciiee; or, The lad carefully observed this injunction, lying with perfect composure, with his face covered, awaiting those mystic visitations which were to seal his good or evil fortune. His father visited him regularly every morning, to encourage him to perseverance, expatiat- ing at length on the honor and renown that would attend him through life if he accomplished the full term prescribed. To these admonitions and encouragements the boy never replied, but lay, without the least sign of discontent or murmuring, until the ninth day, when he addressed his father as follows : — " My father, my dreams forebode evil. May I break my fast now, and at a more propitious time make a new fast?" The father answered — " My son, you know not what you ask. If you get up now, all your glory will depart. Wait patiently a little longer. You have but three days yet to accom- plish your desire. You know it is for your own good, and I encourage you to persevere." The son assented ; and, covering himself closer, he lay till the eleventh day, when he repeated his request. Yery nearly the same answer was given him by his father, who added that the next day he would himself prepare his first meal, and bring it to him. The boy remained silent, but lay as motionjess as a corpse. No one would have known he was living but by the gentle heaving of his breast. The next morning, the father, elated ot liaving gained his end, ])repared a repast for his son, and hast- ened to set it before him. On coming to the door, he was surprised to hear his son talking to himself, lie stooped to listen ; and, looking tlirough a small ai)er- ture, was more astonished when he beheUl his sou painted with vermilion over all his breast, and in the '« THE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIX. Ill wiili A ting od or every atiat- A'ould I term meuts iign of lien he ; break 5 a new !^on get iently a accom- n good, oser, be request. 1 by bis himself The boy ise. No lie gentle having and hast- ; door, he iself. 1I« nail aper- \ bis sou Liid in the m ^'i act of finishing his work by laying on the paint as far back on his shoulders as he could reach with his hands, saying, at the same time, to himself, " My father has destroyed my fortune as a man. He would not listen to my requests. He will be the loser. I shall be for- ever happy in my new state, for I have l)een obedient to my parent; he ahnie will be the sufiercr, for my guardian spirit is a just one ; though not propitious to me in the manner I desired, he has shown me i)ity in another way ; he has given me another shape ; and now I must go." At this moment the old man broke in, exclaiming, " ]V[y son ! my son ! I pray you leave me not." l>ut the young man, with the quickness of a bird, had flown to the top of the lodge, and perched himself on the highest pole, having been changed into a beautiful rol)in redbreast. He looked down upon his father with pity beaming in his eyes, and addressed him as follows : " Hegret not, my father, the change you l)ehold. I shall be happier in my present state than I could have been as a man. I shall always be tlie friend of men, and keep near their dwellings. I shall ever be happy and con- tented ; and although I could not gratify your wishes as a warrior, it will be my daily aim to make you amends for it as a harbinger of peace atid joy. I will cheer you by my songs, and strive to inspire in others the joy and lightsomeness I feel in my present state. This will be some compensation to you for the loss of the glory you expected. I am now free from the cares itaneou V ^fy sp ly furnished l)y the mountains and fields, and my jtathway of life is in the bright air." Then stretching himself Mi 112 opeeciiee; or, the oriqin of the robin. on his toes, as if delighted with the gift of wings, he carolled one of his sweetest songs, and flew away into a neighboring grove.* * See Notes of the Pibbigwun. Jl i^s, he J into SIIINGEBISS. AN ALLEGORY OF SELF-RELIANCE. FROM THE ODJIBWA. There was once a Sbingebiss, the name of the fall duck living alone, in a solitary lodge, on the shores of the deep bay of a lake, in the coldest winter weather. The ice had formed on the water, and he had but four logs of wood to keep his fire. Each of these would, however, burn a month, and as there were but four cold winter months, they were sufficient to carry him through till spring. Shingebiss was hardy and fearless, and cared for no one. He would go out during the coldest day, and seek for places where flags and rushes grew through the ice, and plucking them up with his bill, would dive through the openings, in quest of fish. In this way he found plenty of food, while others were starving, and he went home daily to his lodge, dragging strings of fish after him, on the ice. Kabebonicca* observed him, and felt a little piqued at his perseverance and good luck in defiance of the severes blasts of wind he could send from the uorth- * A personification of the Nortlivvcst. 10* \ i J '^ I ii 114 SIIINGEBISS; west. " Why ! this is a wonderful man," said he ; "he does not mind the cold, and appears as happy and contented as if it were the month of June. I will try whether he cannot be mastered." He poured forth tenfold colder blasts, and drifts of snow, so that it was next to impossible to live in the open air. Still, the tire of Shingebiss did not go out : he wore but a single strip of leather around his body, and he was seen, in the worst weather, searching the shores for rushes, and carrying home fish. " I shall go and visit him," said Kabebonicca, one day, as he saw Shingebiss dragging along a quantity of fish. And, accordingly, that very night, he went to the door of his lodge. Meantime Shingebiss had cooked his fish, and finished his meal, and was lying, partly on his side, before the fire, singing his songs. After Kabebonicca had come to the door, and stood listening there, he sang as follows : — Ka Noej Ka Ne(^j Be In Be In B.)n III Bon In Oc Ee. Oc Ee. Ca We-ya ! . Ca We-ya 1 The number of words, in this song, are few and simple, but they are made up from compound^ which carry the whole of their original meanings, and are rather sug- gestive of the ideas floating in the mind than actual expressions of those ideas. Literally, he sings : — Spirit of tlxo Northwest — you are but my fellow man. By being broken into syllables, to correspond with a sim- ])le chant, and by the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words are expanded into melodious '-r\r M AN ALLEGORY OF SELF-RELIANCE. 115 iple, the Sllg- ;tual Isim- tion, lions utterance, if we may be allowed the term, and nia) ^ thus rendered : — Windy god, I know your plan, You are but my fellow man ; Blow you may your coldest breeze, Shingebiss you cannot freeze. Sweep the strongest wind you can, Shingebiss is still your man ; Heigh ! for life — and ho ! for bliss. Who so free as Shingebiss ? The hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he felt his cold and strong breath ; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter indifference. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the opposite side of the lodge. But Shingebiss did not regard, or notice him. He got up, as if nobody were present, and taking his poker, pushed the log, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating, as he sat down agam : — You are but my fellow man. Very soon the tears began to flow down Kabebo- nicca's cheeks, which increased so fast, that, presently, he said to himself: " I cannot stand this — I must go out." He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs; but resolved to freeze up all the flag orifices, and make the ice thick, so that he could not get any more fish. Still, Shingebiss, by dint of great diligence, found means to pull up new roots, and dive under for fish. At last, Kabebonicca was compelled to give up the contest. " He must be aided by some Monedo," said he. " I can neither freeze him nor starve him ; he is a very singular being — I will let him alone." ' li' \ i t i ', \ THE STAR FAMILY, OB CELESTIAL SISTERS. SHAWNEE. Waupee, or the White Hawk, lived in a remote part of the forest, where animals and birds were abundant. Every day he returned from the chase with the reward of his toil, for he was one of the most skilful and cele- brated hunters of his tribe. With a tall, manly form, and the fire of youth beaming from his eye, tlf re was no forest too gloomy for him to penetrate, and no track made by the numerous kinds of birds and beasts which he could not follow. One day he penetrated beyond any point which he had before visited. He travelled through an open forest, which enabled him to see a great distance. At length he beheld a light breaking through the foliage, which made him sure that he was on the borders of a prairie. It was a wide plain covered with grass and flowers. After walking some time without a path, he suddenly came to a ring worn through the sod, as if it had been made by footsteps following a circle. But what excited his surprise was, that there was no path leading to or from it. Not the least trace of footsteps could be found, even in a crushed leaf or broken twig. ■WMaaani— THE STAR FAMILY; OR, THE CELESTIAL SISTERS. lit He thoup^ht he wonlcl hide himself, and lie in wait to see what this circle meant. Presently he heard the faint sounds of music in the air. He looked up in the direction they came from, and saw a small object de- scending from above. At first it looked like a mere speck, but rapidly increased, and, as it came down, the music became plainer and sweeter. It assumed the form of a basket, and was filled with twelve sisters of the most lovely forms and enchanting beauty. As soon as the basket touched the ground, they leaped out, and began to dance round the magic ring, strik- ing, as they did so, a shining ball as we strike the drum. Waupee gazed upon their graceful forms and motions from his place of concealment. He admired thera all, but was most pleased with the youngest. Unable longer to restrain his admiration, he rushed out and endeavored to seize her. But the sisters, with the quickness of birds, the moment they descried the form of a man, leaped back into the basket and were drawn up into the sky. Regretting his ill luck and indiscretion, he gazed till he saw them disappear, and then said, "They are gone, and I shall see them no more." He returned to his solitary lodge, but found no relief to his mind. Next day he went back to the prairie, and took his station near the ring ; but in order to deceive the sis- ters, he assumed the form of an opossum. He had not waited long, when he saw the wicker car descend, and heard the same sweet music. They commenced the same sportive dance, and seemed even more beautiful and graceful than before. He crept slowly towards the ring, but the instant the sisters saw him they were startled, and sprang into their car. It rose but a short distance, when one of the elder sisters spoke. " Per- 118 THE STAR family; OR, haps," said she, " it is come to show us how the game is played by mortals." " Oh no !" the youngest re- plied ; " quick, let us ascend." And all joining in a chant, they rose out of sight. Waupee returned to his own form again, and walked sorrowfully back to his lodge. But the night seemed a very long one, and he went back betimes the next day. He reflected upon the sort of plan to follow to secure success. lie found an old stump near by, in which there were a number of mice. He thought their small form would not create alarm, and accordingly assumed it. He brought the stump and sat it up near the ring. The sisters came down and resumed their sport. "But see," cried the younger sister, "that stump was not there before." She ran affrighted towards the car. They only smiled, and gathering round the stump, struck it in jest, when out ran the mice, and Waupee among the rest. They killed them all but one, which was pursued by the youngest sister ; but just as she had raised her stick to kill it, the form of Waupee arose, and he clasped his prize in his arms. The other eleven sprang to their basket and were drawn up to the skies. He exerted all his skill to please his bride and win her affections. He wiped the tears from her eyes. He related his adventures in the chase. He dwelt upon the charms of life on the earth. He was incessant in his attentions, and picked out the way for her to walk as he led her gently towards his lodge. He felt his heart glow with joy as she entered it, and from that moment he was one of the happiest of men. Winter and summer passed rapidly away, and their happiness was increased by the addition of a beautiful boy to their lodge. She was a daughter of one the stars, and TUE CELESTIAL SISTERS. 119 as the scenes of earth began to pall lier sight, she siglied to revisit her father. But she was obliged to hide these feelings from her husband. She remembered the charm that would carry her up, and took occasion, while Wanpee was engaged in the chase, to construct a wicker basket, which she kept concealed. In the mean time she collected such rarities from the earth as she thought would please her father, as well as the most dainty kinds of food. When all was in readiness, she went out one day, while Waupee was absent, to the charmed ring, taking her little son with her. As soon as they got into the car, she commenced her song and the basket rose. As the song was wafted by the wind, it caught her husband's ear. It was a voice which he well knew, and he instantly ran to the prairie. But he could not reach the ring before he saw his wife and child ascend. He lifted up his voice in loud appeals* but they were unavailing. The basket still went up. He watched it till it became a small speck, and finally it vanished in the sky. He then bent his head down to the ground, and was miserable. Waupee bewailed his loss through a long winter and a long summer. But he found no relief. He mourned his wife's loss sorely, but his son's still more. In the mean time his wife had reached her home in the stars, and almost forgot, in the blissful employments there, that she had left a husband on the earth.' She was re- minded of this by the presence of her son, who, as he grew up, became anxious to visit the scene of his birth. His grandfather said to his daughter one day, "Go, my child, and take your son down to his father, and ask him to come up and live with us. But tell him to bring along a specimen of each kind of bird and ani- ' ! ; M .; ' 120 THE STAR family; OR, THE CELESTIAL SISTERS. mal he kills in the chase." She accordingly took the boy and descended. Waupee, who was ever near the enchanted spot, heard her voice as she came down the sky. His heart beat with impatience as he saw her form and that of his son, and they were soon clasped in his arms. He heard the message of the Star, and began to hunt with the greatest activity, that he might collect the present. He spent whole nights, as well as days, in searching for every curious and beautiful bird or animal. He only preserved a tail, foot, or wing of each, to identify the species; and, when all was ready, they went to the circle and were carried up. Great joy was manifested on their arrival at the starry plains. The Star Chief invited all his people to a feast, and, when they had assembled, he proclaimed aloud, that each one might take of the earthly gifts such as he liked best. A very strange confusion im- mediately arose. Some chose a foot, some a wing, some a tail, and some a claw. Those who selected tails or claws were changed into animals, and ran off; tJie others assumed the form of birds, and flew away. Waupee chose a white hawk's feather. His wi)fe and son followed his example, when each one became a white hawk. Pleased with his transformation, and new vitality, the chief spread out gracefully his white wings, and followed by his wife and son, descended to the earth, where the species are still to be found. i OJEEG ANNUNG, i * OR THE SUMMER-MAKEll. ODJIBWA. usion im- TiiEiiE lived a celebrated hunter on the southern shores of Lake Superior, who was considered a Manito by some, for there was nothing but what he could ac- complish, lie lived off the path, in a wild, lonesome, place, with a wife whom he loved, and they were blessed with a son, who had attained his thirteenth year. The hunter's name was Ojeeg, or the Fisher, which is the name of an expert, sprightly little animal common to the region. He was so successful in the chase, that he seldom returned without bringing liis wife and son a plentiful supply of venison, or other dainties of the woods. As hunting formed his constant occupation, his son began early to emulate his father in the same employment, and would take his bow and arrows, and exert his skill in trying to kill birds and squirrels. The greatest impediment he met with, was the coldness and ■••■ Thoro is a group of stars in the Nortliorn hoinisplioro which tho Odjibwas call (If'trij Auuuiuj, or the Fislior Stars. It Ih lioliovod to l)o identical with the group of the Tlough. Thoy relate the following tale respecting it. n 122 0.1 EEG annung; or, severity of the climate. lie often returned home, his little fingers benumbed with cold, and crying with vex- ation at his disappointment. Days, and months, and years passed away, but still the same perpetual depth of snow was seen, covering all the country as with a white cloak. One day, after a fruitless trial of his forest skill, the little boy was returning homeward with a heavy heart, when he saw a small red squirrel gnawing the top of a pine bur. lie had approached within a proper dis- tance to shoot, when the squirrel sat up on its hind legs and thus addressed him : — " My grandchild, put up your arrows, and listen to what I have to tell you." The boy complied rather re- luctantly, when the squirrel continued : ** My son, I see you pass frequently, with your fingers benumbed with cold, and crying with vexation for not having killed any birds. Now, if you will follow my advice, we will see if you cannot accomplish your wishes. If you will strictly pursue my advice, we will have per- petual summer, and you will then have the pleasure of killing as many birds as you please ; and I will also have something to eat, as I am now myself on the point of starvation. " Listen to mc. As soon as you get home you must commence crying. You must throw away your bow and arrows in discontent. If your mother asks you what is the matter, you must not answer her, but con- tinue crying and sobbing. If she offers you anything to eat, you must push it away with apparent discontent, and continue crying. In the evening, when your father returns from hunting, he will inquire of your mother what is the matter with you. She will answer that yo'i came home crying, and would not so much as mention M THE SUMMER-MAKER. 123 ne, his U vex- s, and . depth with a ill, the ' heart, op of a >er dis- nd legs isten to ther re- ' son, I numbed having advice, lies. If ,ve per- lasure of ill also e point )u must )ur bow ^ks you )ut con- |nything content, Ir father mother |,hat yu'i iention the cause to her. All this while you must not leave off sobbing. At last your father will say, ' My son, why is this unnecessary grief? Tell me the cause. You know I am a spirit, and that nothing is impossible for me to perform.' You must then answer him, and say that you are sorry to see the snow continually on the ground, and ask him if he could not cause it to melt, so that we might have perpetual summer. Say it in a supplicating way, and tell him this is the cause of your grief. Your father will reply, ' It is very hard to accomplish your request, but for your sake, and for my love for you, I will use my utmost endeavors.' He will tell you to be still, and cease crying. lie will try to bring summer with all its loveliness. You must then be quiet, and eat that which is set before you." The squirrel ceased. The boy promised obedience to his advice, and departed. When he reached home, he did as he had been instructed, and all was exactly fulfilled, as it had been predicted by the squirrel. Ojeegtold him that it was a great undertaking. lie must first make a feast, and invite some of his friends to accompany him on a journey. Next day he had a bear roasted whole. All who had been invited to the feast came punctually to the appointment. There were the Otter, Beaver, Lynx, Badger, and Wolverine. After the feast, they arranged it among themselves to set out on the contemplated journey in three days. When the time arrived, the Fisher took leave of his wife and son, as he foresaw that it was for the last time. lie and iiis companions travelled in company day after day, meeting with nothing but the ordinary incidents. On the twentieth thiy they arrived at the foot of a iiigh mountain, where they saw the tracks of some person who had recently killed au animal, which they knew by iff 124 OJEEG ANNUNG ; OR, the blood that marked the way. The Fisher told his friends that they ought to follow the track, and see if they could not procure something to cat. They fol- lowed it for some time ; at last they arrived at a lodge, which had been hidden from their view by a hollow in the mountain. Ojeeg told his friends to be very sedate, and not to laugh on any account. The first object that they saw was a man standing at the door of the lodge, but of so deformed a shape that they could not possi- bly make out who or what sort of a man it could be. His head was enormously large ; he had such a queer set of teeth, and no arms. They wondered how he could kill animals. But the secret was soon revealed. He was a great Manito. He invited them to pass the night, to which they consented. He boiled his meat in a hollow vessel made of wood, and took it out of this singular kettle in some way un- known to his guests. lEe carefully gave each their portion to eat, but made so many odd movements that the Otter could not refrain from laughing, for he is the only one who is spoken of as a jester. The Manito looked at him with a terrible look, and then made a spring at him, and got on him to smother him, for that was his mode of killing animals. But the Otter, when he felt him on his neck, slipped his head back and made for the door, which he passed in safety ; but went out with the curse of the Manito. The others passed the night, and they conversed on different subjects. The Manito told the Fisher that he would accomplish his object, but that it would probably cost him his life. He gave them his advice, directed them how to act, and described a certain road which they must follow, and they would thereby be led to the place of action. They set off in the morning, and met their friend, THE SUMMER-MAKER. 125 told Ms ul see if 'hey fol- a lodge, lollow in ^ sedate, )ject that lie lodge, lot possi- could be. h a queer 1 how he revealed. ) pass the e of wood, c way un- each their ments that r, for he is the Manito en made a im, for that )tter, when back and ; but went hers passed nt subjects, accomplisb him his life, how to act, must follow, _ of action, their friend, the Otter, shivering with cold ; but Ojeeg had taken care to bring along some of the meat that had been given him, which he presented to his friend. They pursued their way, and travelled twenty days more before they got to the place which the Manito had told them of. It was a most lofty mountain. They rested on its highest peak to fill their pipes and re- fresh themselves. Before smoking, they made the cus- tomary ceremony, pointing to the heavens, the four winds, the earth, and the zenith ; in the mean time, speaking in a loud voice, addressed the Great Spirit, hoping that their object would be accomplished. They then commenced smoking. They gazed on the sky in silent admiration and astonishment, for they were on so elevated a point, that it appeared to be only a short distance above their heads. After they had finished smoking, they prepared themselves. Oleeg told the Otter to make the first attempt to try and make a hole in the sky. He con- sented with a grin. He made a leap, but fell down the hill stunned by the force of his fall ; and the snow being moist, and falling on his back, he slid with velo- city down the side of the mountain. When he found himself at the bottom, he thought to himself, it is the last time I make such another jump, so I will make the best of my way home. Then it was the turn of the Beaver, who made the attempt, but fell down senseless ; then of the Lynx and Badger, who had no better suc- cess. "Now," says Fisher to the Wolverine, "try your skill ; your ancestors were celebrated for their activity, hardihood, and perseverance, and I depend on you for success. Now make the attempt." He did so, but also without success. He leaped the second time, but lit r -, — n — ,i,u.; 126 OJEEQ ANNUNG ; OR, now they could see that the sky was giving way to their repeated attempts. Mustering strength, he made the third leap, and went in. The Fisher nimbly followed him. They found themselves in a beautiful plain, extend- ing as far as the eye could reach, covered with flowers of a thousand different hues and fragrance. Here and there were clusters of tall, shady trees, separated by innumerable streams of the purest water, which wound around their courses under the cooling shades, and filled the plain with countless beautiful lakes, whose banks and bosom were covered witlr water-fowl, bask- ing and sporting in the sun. The trees were alive with birds of different plumage, warbling their sweet notes, and delighted with perpetual spring. The Fisher and his friend beheld very long lodges, and the celestial inhabitants amusing themselves at a distance. Words cannot express the beauty and charms of the place. The lodges were empty of inhabitants, but they saw them lined with raocuks* of different sizes, filled with birds and fowls of different plumage. Ojeeg thought of his son, and immediately commenced cutting open the mocuks and letting out the birds, who descended in whole flocks through the opening which they had made. The warm air of those regions also rushed down through the opening, and spread its genial influence over the north. When the celestial inhabitants saw the birds let loose, and the warm gales descending, they raised a shout like thunder, and ran for their lodges. But it was too late. Spring, summer, and autumn had gone ; even perpetual summer had almost all gone ; but they * Baskets, or cages. THE SUMMER-MAKER. 121 ;o their ide the )Uowed extend- flowers ere and ated by 1 wound ies, and s, whose ivl, bask- tlive with set notes, separated it with a blow, and only a part descended ; but the ends were so mangled, that, wherever it prevails among the lower inhabitants, it is always sickly.* When the Wolverine heard the noise, he made for the opening and safely descended. Not so the Fisher. Anxious to fulfil his son's wishes, he continued to break open the mocuks. He was, at last, obliged to run also, but the opening was now closed by the in- habitants. He ran with all his might over the plains of heaven, and, it would appear, took a northerly di- rection. He saw his pursuers so close that he had to climb the first large tree he came to. They commenced shooting at him with their arrows, but without eflTect, for all his body was invulnerable except the space of about an inch near the tip of his tail. At last one of the arrows hit the spot, for he had in this chase as- sumed the shape of the Fisher after whom he was named. He looked down from the tree, and saw some among his assailants with the totemsf of his ancestors. He claimed relationship, and told them to desist, which they only did at the approach of night. He then came down to try and find an opening in the celestial plain, by which he might descend to the earth. But he could find none. At last, becoming faint from the loss of blood from the wound on his tail, he laid him- self down towards the north of the plain, and, stretching out his limbs, said, "I have fulfilled my promise to my * Tlie idea here imlioatcd is among the peculiar notions of these tribes, and is grafted in the forma of tlieir hinguage, which will be pointed out in the progress of these researches. t Family arms, or armorial mark. t I I 128 OJEEQ annung; or, the summer-maker. son, though it has cost me my life ; but I die satisfied in the idea that I have done so much good, not only for him, but for my fellow-beings. Hereafter I will be a sign to the inhabitants below for ages to come, who will venerate my name for having succeeded in pro- curing the varying seasons. They will now have from eight to ten moons without snow." He was found dead next morning, but they left him as they found him, with the arrow sticking in his tail, as it can be plainly seen, at this time, in the hea- vens. '1 CHILEELI, OR THE RED LOVER. ODJIBWA. 4 Many years ago there lived a warrior on the banks of Lake Superior, whose name was Wawanosh. lie was the chief of an ancient family of his tribe, who had preserved the line of chieftainship unbroken from a remote time, and he consequently cherished a pride of ancestry. To the reputation of birth he added the advantages of a tall and commanding person, and the dazzling qualities of personal strength, courage, and activity. His bow was noted for its size, and the feats he had performed with it. His counsel was sought as much as his strength was feared, so that he came to be equally regarded as a hunter, a warrior, and a coun- sellor. He had now passed the meridian of his days, and the term Akkee-waizee, i. e., one who has been long on the earth, was applied to him. Such was Wawanosh, to whom the united voice of the nation awarded the first place in their esteem, and the highest authority in council. But distinction, it seems, is apt to engender haughtiness in the hunter state as well as civilized life. Pride was his ruling i 130 CHILEELI; OR, passion, and he clung with tenacity to the distinctions wliich he regarded as an inheritance. Wawanosh had an only daughter, who had now lived to witness the budding of the leaves of the eigh- teenth spring. Her father was not more celebrated for his deeds of strength than she for her gentle virtues, her slender form, her full beaming hazel eyes, and her dark and flowing hair. " And through her cheek The blush would make its way, and all but speak. The sunborn blood suflFused her neck, and threw O'er her clear brown skin a lucid hue, Like coral reddening through the darken'd wave, Which draws the diver to the crimson cave." Her hand was sought by a young man of humble parentage, who had no other merits to recommend him but such as might arise from a tall and commanding person, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the tro- pical fires of youth and love. These were sufficient to attract the favorable notice of the daughter, but were by no means satisfactory to the father, who sought an alliance more suitable to the rank and the high pre- tensions of his family. " Listen to me, young man," he replied to the trem- bling hunter, who had sought the interview, "and be attentive to my words. You ask me to bestow upon you my daughter, the chief solace of my age, and my choicest gift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this boon, who were as young, as active, and as ardent as yourself. Some of these persons have had better claims to become my son-in-law. Have you reflected upon the deeds which have raised me in authority, and made my name known to the enemies of my nation ? Whore is there a chief who is not proud to THE RED LOVER. 131 trera- nd be upon id my have ictive, JH ersons Have :^| me in ies of mdto 1 1 be considered the friend of Wawanosh ? Where, in all the land, is there a hunter who has excelled Wawanosh ? Where is there a warrior who can boast the taking of an equal number of scalps ? Besides, have you not heard that my fathers came from the East, bearing the marks of chieftaincy ? " And what, young man, have you to boast ? Have you ever met your enemies in the field of battle ? Have you ever brought home a trophy of victory ? Have you ever proved your fortitude by sutfering protracted pain, enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great fatigue? Is your name known beyond the humble limits of your native village ? Go, then, young man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none but the brave that can ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of Wawanosh. Think not .ny warrior blood shall mingle with the hum- ble mark of the Awasees* — fit totem for fishermen !" The intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that should render him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the attempt. lie called t9gether several of his young companions and equals in years, and imparted to them his design of conducting an expedition against the enemy, and re- quested their assistance. Several embraced the pro- posal immediately ; others were soon brought to acquiesce ; and, before ten suns set, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party of young warriors, all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle. Each warrior was armed, according to the custom of the period, with a bow and a quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper. He carried a sack or walle^, pro- vided with a small quantity of parched and pounded * Catfish. 132 CUILEELl; OR, corn, mixed with pemmican or maple sugar. He was furnished with a Puggamauoun, or war-club of hard wood, fastened to a girdle of deer skin, and a stone or copper knife. In addition to this, some carried the ancient shemagun, or lance, a smooth pole about a fathom in length, with a javelin of flint, firmly tied on with deer's sinews. Thus equipped, and each warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy, and ornamented with appropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot appointed for the war-dance. A level, grassy plain extended for nearly a mile from the lodge of Wawanosh along the lake shore. Lodges of bark were promiscuously interspersed over this green, and here and there a cluster of trees, or a' solitary tall pine. A belt of yellow sand skirted the lake shore in front, and a tall, thick forest formed the background. In the centre of this plain stood a high shattered pine, with a clear space about, renowned as the scene of the war-dance time out of mind. Here the youths as- sembled, with their tall and graceful leader, distin- guished by the feathers of the bald eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright fire of pine wood blazed upon the green. He led his men several times around this fire, with a measured and solemn, chant.* Then suddenly halting, the war-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately began. An old man, sitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum, while sev- eral of the elder warriors shook their rattles, and " ever and anon" made the woods re-echo with their yells. Each warrior chanted alternately the verse of a song, of which the words generally embraced some prominent idea, often repeated. * Notes of the Pibbigwun. T HE RED LOVEtt. 1 33 Tlio eagles scream on lugli, They whet their forked beaks : Raise — raise the battle cry, 'Tis fame our leader seeks. Thus they continued the dance, till each had introduced his verse, with short intermissions, for two successive days and nights. Sometimes the village seer, who led the ceremony, would embrace the occasion of a pause to address them with words of encouragement, in a prophetic voice and air, suited to raise their voices. In the dreamy hours of night I beheld the bloody fight. As reclined upon my bed, Holy visions crowned my head ; High our guardian spirit bright Stood above the dreadful fight ; Beaming eye and dazzling brand Gleamed upon my chosen band, While a black and awful shade O'er the faithless foeman spread. Soon they wavered, sunk, and fled, Leaving wounded, dying, dead. While my gallant warriors high Waved their trophies in the sky. At every recurrence of this kind, new energy was in^ fused into the dance, and the warriors renewed their gesticulations, and stamped upon the ground as if they were trampling their enemies under their feet. At length the prophet uttered his final prediction of success ; and the warriors dropping ofiF, one by one, from the fire, took their way to the place appointed for the rendezvous, on the confines of the enemy's country. Their leader was not among the last to depart, but he did not leave the village without seeking an interview with the daughter of Wawanosh. He disclosed to her 12 r 134 CHILEELI; OR, his firm determination never to return, unless he could establish his name as a warrior. He told her of the pangs he had felt at the bitter reproaches of her father, and declared that his soul spurned the imputation of effeminacy and cowardice implied by his language. He averred that he could never be happy until he had proved to the whole tribe the strength of his heart, which is the Indian term for courage. He said that his dreams had not been propitious, but he should not cease to invoke the power of the Great Spirit. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment, which she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they parted. That parting proved final. All she «ver heard from her lover after this interview was brought by one of his successful warriors, who said that he had distin- guished himself by the most heroic bravery, but, at the close of the fight, he had received an arrow in his breast. The enemy fled, leaving many of their war- riors dead on the field. On examining the wound, it was perceived to be beyond their power to cure. They carried him towards home a day's journey, but he lan- guished and expired in the arms of his friends. From the moment the report was received, no smile was ever seen in the once happy lodge of Wawanosh. His daughter pined away by day and by night. Tears, sighs, and lamentation, were heard continually. No- thing could restore her lost serenity of mind. Persua- sives and reproofs were alternately employed, but em- ])loyed in vain. She would seek a sequestered spot, where she would sit under a shady tree, and sing her mournful laments for hours together. Passages of these arc yet repeated by tradition. It was not long before a small bird of beautiful plu- THE RED LOVER. 135 mage flew upon the tree under which she usually sat. This mysterious visitor, which, from its sweet and art- less notes, is called Chileeli, seemed to respond in sym- pathy t^ her plaintive voice. It was a strange bird, such as had not before been observed. It came every day and remained chanting its notes till nightfall ; and when it left its perch on the tree, it seemed, from the delicate play of the colors of its plumage, as if it had taken its hues from the rainbow. Ilerfond imagination soon led her to suppose it was the spirit of her lover, and her visits to the sequestered spot were repeated more frequently. She passed much of her time in fasting and singing her plaintive songs. There she pined away, taking little nourishment, and constantly de- siring to pass away to that land of expected bliss and freedom from care, where it I., believed that the spirits of men will be again reunited, and tread over fields of flowery enjoyment. And when death ame to her, it was not as the bearer of gloom and regrets, but as the herald of happiness. After her decease, the myste- rious bird was never moi o seen, and it became a popu- lar opinion that the mysterious visitor hud flown away with her spirit.* * Notes of tlie Pibbigwun. [ul plu- SIIEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY OR WOLF BROTHER. AN ODJIBWA ALLEGORY OP FRATERNAL AFFECTION. t ! ! i I \ I \ hi A SOLITARY lodge stood on the banks of a remote lake. It was near the hour of sunset. Silence reigned within and without. Not a sound was heard but the low breathing of the dying inmate and head of this poor family. His wife and three children surrounded his bed. Two of the latter were almost grown up : the other was a mere child. All their simple skill in medicine had been exhausted to no effect. They moved about the lodge in whispers, and were waiting the de- parture of the spirit. As one of the last acts of kind- ness, the skin door of the lodge had been thrown back to admit the fresh air. The poor man felt a momen- tary return of strength, and, raising himself a little, addressed his family. " I leave you in a world of care, in which it has re- quired all my strength and skill to supply you food, and protect you from the storms and cold of a severe climate. For you, my partner in life, I have less sor- row in parting, because I am i)ersuaded you will not remain long behind me, and will therefore find the period of your sufferings shortened. Uut you, my ^ up : lOVcd le de- kind- back •men- little, las re- food, severe |s 8or- U not Id the |u, my SHEEM; THE FORSAKEN BOY OR WOLF BROTHER. 131 children 1 my poor and forsaken cliildren, who have just commenced the career of life, who will protect you from its evils ? Listen to my words 1 Unkindness, ingratitude, and every wickedness is in the scene be- fore you. It is for this cause that, years ago, I with- drew from my kindred and my tribe, to spend my days in this lonely spot. I have contented myself with the company of your mother and yourselves during seasons of very frequent scarcity and want, while your kindred, feasting in a scene where food is plenty, have caused the forests to echo with the shouts of successful war. I gave up these things for the enjoyment of peace. I wished to shield you from the bad examples you would inevitably have followed. I have seen you, thus far, grow ; ;• in innocence. If we have sometimes suffered bodiij p , we have escaped pain of mind.* We have b. ' i..ept from scenes of rioting and bloodshed. " My career is now at its close. I will shut my eyes in peace, if you, my children, will promise me to cherish each other. Let not your mother suffer during the few days that are left to her; and I charge you, on no ac- count, to forsake your youngest brother. Of him I give you both my dying charge to take a tender care." He sank exhausted on his pallet. The family waited a moment, as if expecting to hear something further; but, when they came to his side, the spirit had taken its flight. The mother and daughter gave vent to their feelings in lamentations. The elder son witnessed the scene in silence. He soon exerted himself to supply, with the bow and net, his father's place. Time, however, wore * We.'^ug.aiiuluin, moaning pain or bittornoss of mind, is a singlo oxprossiou in tho original. It is a trinary comiKJund. 12* i $■ n 3 I 9 I 3 I' I I' 138 SIIEEM ; away heavily. Five moons had filled and waned, and the sixth was near its full, when the mother also died. In her last moments she pressed the fulfilment of their promise to their father, which the children readily re- newed, because they were yet free from selfish motives. The winter passed ; and the spring, with its enliven- ing effects in a northern hemisphere, cheered the droop- ing spirits of the bereft little family. The girl, being the eldest, dictated to her brothers, and seemed to feel a tender and sisterly affection for the youngest, who was rather sickly and delicate. The other boy soon showed symptoms of restlessness and ambition, and ad- dressed the sister as follows : "My sister, are we always to live as if there were no other human beings in the world ? Must I deprive myself of the pleasure of asso- ciating with my own kind ? I have determined this question for myself. I shall seek the villages of men, and you cannot prevent me." The sister replied : " I do not say no, my brother, to what you desire. "We are not prohibited the society of our fellow-mortals; but we are told to cherish each other, and to do nothing independent of each other. Neither pleasure nor pain ought, therefore, to separate us, especially from our younger brother, who being but a child, and weakly withal, is entitled to a double share of our affection. If we follow our separate gratifica- tions, it will surely make us neglect him, whom we are bound by vows, both to our father and mother, to sup- port." The young man received this address in silence. Ho appeared daily to grow more restive and moody, and one day, taking his bow and arrows, left the lodge and never returned. Affection nerved the sister's arm. She was not so Ignorant of the forest arts as to let her brother want. THE FORSAKEN BOY OR WOLF BROTHER. 139 )t SO For a long time she administered to his necessities, and supplied a mother's cares. At length, however, she began to be weary of solitude and of her charge. No one came to be a witness of her assiduity, or to let fall a single word in her native language. Years, which added to her strength and capability of directing the affairs of the household, brought with them the irrepres- sible desire of society, and made solitude irksome. At this point, selfishness gained the ascendency of her heart ; for, in meditating a change in her mode of life, she lost sight of her younger brother, and left him to be provided for by contingencies. One day, after collecting all the provisions she had been able to save for emergencies, after bringing a quantity of wood to the door, she said to her little brother: "My brother, you must not stray from the lodge. I am going to seek our elder brother. I shall be back soon." Then, taking her bundle, she set off in search of habitations. She sooh found them, and was so much token up with the pleasures and amuse- ments of social life, that the thought of her brother was almost entirely obliterated. She accepted pro- posals of marriage; and, after that, thought still less of her hapless and abandoned relative. Meantime her elder brother had also married, and lived on the shores of the same lake whose ample cir- cuit contained the abandoned lodge of his father and his forsaken brother. The latter was soon brought to the pinching turn of his fate. As soon as he had eaten all the food left by his sister, he was obliged to pick berries and dig up roots. These were finally covered by the snow. Winter came on with all its rigors. lie was obliged to quit the lodge in search of other food. Sometimes he passed the night in the clefts of i 140 SHEEM ; old trees or caverns, and ate the refuse meals of the wolves. The latter, at last, became his only resource ; and he became so fearless of these animals that he would sit close by them while they devoured their prey. The wolves, on the other hand, became so familiar with his face and form, that they were undisturbed by his approach ; and, appearing to sympathize with him in his outcast condition, would always leave something for his repast. In this way he lived till spring. As soon as the lake was free from ice, he followed his new-found friends themselves to the shore. It happened, the same day, that his elder brother was fishing in his canoe, a con- siderable distance out in the lake, when he thought he heard the cries of a child on the shore, and wondered how any could exist on so bleak and barren a part of the coast, he listened again attentively, and distinctly heard the cry repeated. He made for shore as quick as possible, and, as he approached land, discovered and recognized his little brother, and heard him singing, in a plaintive voice — Neesia — neesia, ^ Shyegwuh goosuh 1 Ni my een gwun iewh ! Ni my eou gwun iewh ! Heo hwooh. My brother — my brother, Ah 1 see, I am turning into a wolf.* At the termination of his song, which was drawn out with a peculiar cadence, he howled like a wolf. The elder brother was still more astonished, when, getting nearer shore, he perceived his poor brother partly trans- formed into that animal. He immediately leaped on * Notes of the Pibbigwun. THE FORSAKEN BOY OR WOLF BROTHER. 141 shore, and strove to catch him in his arms, soothinp^ly saying, " My brother, my brother, come to me." But the boy elnded his grasp, crying as he fled, " Neesia, neesia," &c., and howling in the intervals. The elder brother, conscience stricken, and feeling his brotherly affection strongly return, with redoubled force exclaimed, in grer*^ anguish, " My brother I my brother I my broti . 1 But, the nearer he approached, the more rapidly the transformation went on; the boy alternately singing and howling, and calling out the name, first of his brother, and then of his sister, till the change was com- pletely accomplished, when he exclaimed, "I am a wolf 1" and bounded out of sight. lii; 1^ r )Ut ^he ling 1ns- on ^1 ?» I I 1 MISIIEMOKWA, OB THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR WEARING THE PRECIOUS PRIZE OF THE NECKLACE OF WAMPUM, OB THE ORIGIN OF THE SMALL BLACK BEAR. AN OTTOWA LEGEND. In a remote part of the north lived a great magician called Iamo, and his only sister, who had never seen human being. Seldom, if ever, had the man any cause to go from home; for, as his wants demanded food, he had only to go a little distance from the lodge, and there, in some particular spot, place his arrows, with their barbs in the ground. Telling his sister where they had been placed, every morning she would go in search, and never fail of finding each struck through the heart of a deer. She had then only to drag them into the lodge and prepare their food. Thus she lived till she attained womanhood, when one day her brother said to her, "Sister, the time is near at hand when you will be ill. Listen to my advice. If you do not, it will prob- ably be the cause of my death. Take the implements mishemokwa; or, the war with the bear, etc. 143 :e, with which we kindle our fires. Go some distance from our lodge, and build a separate fire. When you are in want of food, I will tell you where to find it. You must cook for yourself, and I will for myself. When you are ill, do not attempt to come near the lodge, or bring any of the utensils you use. Be sure always to fasten to your belt the implements you need, for you do not know when the time will come. As for myself, I must do the best I can." His sister promised to obey him in all he had said. Shortly after, her brother had cause to go from home. She was alone in her lodge, combing her hair. She had just untied the belt to which the implements were fastened, when suddenly the event, to which l.er brother had alluded, occurred. She ran out of the lodge, but in her haste forgot the belt. Afraid to return, she stood for some time thinking. Finally she decided to enter the lodge and get it. For, thought she, my brother is not at home, and I will stay but a moment to catch hold of it. She went back. Running in suddenly, she caught hold of it, and was coming oat when her brother came in sight. He knew what was the matter. "Oh," he said, "did I not tell you to take care? But now you have killed me." She was going on her way, but her brother said to her, "What can you do there now? the accident has happened. Go in, and stay where you have always stayed. And what will become of you? You have killed me." He then laid aside his hunting dress and accoutre- ments, and soon after both his feet began to inflame and turn black, so that he could not move. Still he directed his sister where to place the arrows, that she might always have food. The inflammation continued to in- crease, and had now reached his first rib ; and he said^ 144 MISIIEMOKWA; OR, "Sister, my end is near. Yon must do as I tell you. You see my medicine-sack, and my war-club tied to it. It contains all my medicines, and my war-plumes, and my paints of all colors. As soon as the inflammation reaches my breast, you will take my war-club. It has a sharp point, and you will cut oflF my head. When it is free from my body, take it, place its neck in the sack, which you must open at one end Then hang it up in its former place. Do not forget my bow and arrows. One of the last you will take to procure food. The remainder tie to my sack, and then hang it up, so that I can look towards the door. Now and then I will Speak to you, but not often." His sister again promised to obey. ( In a little time his breast was aflfectcd. " Now," said he, "take the club and strike off ray head." She was afraid, but he told her to muster courage. '' Strike, ^^ said he, and a smile was on his face. Mustering all her courage, she gave the blow and cut off the head. "Now," said the head, "place me where I told you." And fearfully she obeyed it in all its commands. Retain- ing its animation, it looked around the lodge as usual, and it would command its sister to go to such places as it thought would procure for her the flesh of different animals she needed. One day the head said, " The time is not distant when I shall be freed from this situation, but I shall have to undego many sore evils. So the Superior Manito decrees, and I must bear all patiently." In this situation we must leave the head. In a certain part of the country was a village inhabited by a numerous and warlike band of Indians. In this village was a family of ten young men — brothers. It was in the spring of the year that the youngest of these blackened his face and fasted. His dreams were pro- THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 145 IS it 'i le » [is IS se 10- pitious. Having ended his fast, he sent secretly for his brothers at night, so that none in the village could overhear or find out the direction they intended to go. Though their drum was heard, yet that was a common occurrence. Having ended the usual formalities, he told them how favorable his dreams were, and that he had called them together to know if they would accom- pany him in a war excursion. They all answered they would. The third brother from the eldest, noted for his oddities, coming up with his war-club when his brother had ceased speaking, jumped up, "Yes," said he, "/will go, and this will be the way I will treat those we are going to fight;" and he struck the post in the centre of the lodge, and gave a yell. The others spoke to him, saying, "Slow, slow, Mudjikewis, when you are in other people's lodges." So he sat down. Then, in turn, they took the drum, and sang their songs, and closed with a feast. The youngest told them not to whisper their intention even to their wives, but secretly to prepare for their journey. They all promised obedi- ence, and Mudjikewis was the first to say so. The time for their departure drew near. Word was given to assemble on a certain night, when they would depart immediately. Mudjikewis was loud in his de- mands for his moccasins. Several times his wife asked him the reason. "Besides," said she, " you have a good pair on." "Quick, quick," he said, "since you must know, we are going on a war excursion. So be quick." He thus revealed the secret. That night they met and started. The snow was on the ground, and they travelled all night, lest others should follow them. When it was daylight, the leader took snow and made a ball of it ; then tossing it into the air, he said, "It was in this way I saw snow fall in my dream, so that I could not be 13 1" i f t U 146 MISHEMOKWA; OR, tracked." And he told them to keep close to each other for fear of losing themselves, as the snow began to fall in very large flakes. Near as they walked, it was with difficulty they could see each other. The snow continued falling all that day and the following night. So it was impossible to track them. They had now walked for several days, and Mudjike- wis was always in the rear. One day, running suddenly forward, he gave the Saw-saw-quan* and struck a tree with his war-club, which broke into pieces as if struck with lightning. "Brothers," said he, "this will be the way I will serve those whom we are going to fight." The leader answered, "Slow, slow, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be thought of so lightly." Again he fell back and thought to himself, "What, what: Who can this be he is leading us to ?" He felt fearful, and was silent. Day after day they travelled on, till they came to an extensive plain, on the borders of which human bones were bleaching in the sun. The leader spoke. " They are the bones of those who have gone before us. None has ever yet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate." Again Mudjikewis became restless, and, running forward, gave the accustomed yell. Advancing to a large rock which stood above the ground, he struck it, and it fell to pieces. "See, brothers," said he, " thus will I treat those whom we are going to fight." "Still, still," once more said the leader; "he to whom I am leading you is not to be compared to that rock." Mudjikewis fell back quite thoughtful, saying to himself, " I wonder who this can be that he is going to attack." And he was afraid. Still they continued to * War-cry. THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 14t •*^^ e to to see the remains of former warriors, who had been to the place where they were now going, some of whom had retreated as far back as the place where thoy first saw the bones, beyond which no one had ever escaped. At last they came to a piece of rising ground, from which they plainly distinguished, sleeping on a distant mountain, a mammoth bear. The distance between them was great, but the size of the animal caused him plainly to be seen. "There," said the leader, " it is he to whom I am h ading you ; here our troubles only will commence, for he is a MisiiEMOKWA* and a Manito. It is he who has that we prize so dearly (i. e., wampum), to obtain wlhch, the warriors whose bones we saw sacrificed their lives. You must not be fearful. Be manly. We shall f*'nd him asleep." They advanced boldly till they ll! TOE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 149 the enraged animal coming on, with slow but powerful leaps. He closed the door. "Yes," said he, ''he is indeed a great Manito. My grandchildren, you will bo the cause of my losing my life. You asked my pro- tection, and I granted it ; so now come what may, I will protect you. When the bear arrives at the door, you must run out of the other end of the lodge." Then putting his hand to the side of the lodge where he sat, he brought out a bag, which he opened. Taking out two small black dogs, he placed them before him. '* These are the ones I use when I fight," said he ; and he commenced patting, with both hands, the sides of one of them, and they began to swell out, so that he soon filled the lodge by his bulk. And he had great strong teeth. When he attained his full size he growled, and from that moment, as from instinct, he jumped out at the door and met the bear, who in another leap would have reached the lodge. A terrible combat ensiisid. The skies rang with the howls of the fierce monsters. The remaining dog soon took the field. The brothers, at the onset, took the advice of the old man, and es- caped through the opposite side of the lodge. They had not proceeded far before they heard the dying cry of one of the dogs, and soon after of the other. "Well," said the leader, " the old man will share their fate ; so run, run, he will soon be after us." They started with fresh vigor, for they had received food from the old man ; but very soon the bear came in sight, and again was fast gaining upon them. Again the leader asked the brothers if they could do nothing for their safety. All were silent. The leadci", running forward, did a3 before. " I dreamed," he cried, •' that, being in great trouble, an old man hel[)ed me who was a Manito. We shall soon see his lodge." Taking courage, they 13* I 150 mishemokwa; or, i! still went on. After p;oinjT^ a short distance tliey saw the lodge of the old Manito. They entered immedi- ately and claimed his protection, telling him a Manito was after them. The old man, setting meat before them, said, "Eat. Who is a Manito? there is no Manito but me. There is none whom I fear." And the earth trembled as the monster advanced. The old man opened the door and saw him coming. He shut it slowly, and said, " Yes, my grandchildren, you have brought trouble upon me." Procuring his medicine sack, he took out his small war-clubs of black stone, and told the young men to run through the other side of tha lodge. As he handled the clubs they became very large, and the old man stepped out just as the bear reached the door. Then striking him with one of the clubs, it broke in pieces. The bear stumbled. Re- newing the attempt with the other war-club, that also was broken, but the bear fell senseless. Each blow the old man gave him sounded like a clap of thunder, and the howls of the bear ran along till they filled the heavens. The young men had now ran some distance, when they looked back. They could see that the bear was recovering from the blows. First he moved his paws, and soon they saw him rise on his feet. The old man shared the fate of the first, for they now heard his cries as he was torn in pieces. Again the monster was in pursuit, and fast overtaking them. Not yet discou- raged, the young men kept on their way ; but the bear was now so close, that the leader once more applied to his brothers, but they could do nothing. "Well," said he, "my dreams will soon be exhausted. After this I have but one more." He advanced, invoking his guardian spirit to aid him. "Once," said he, "I THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 151 ■1^ e dreamed that, being sorely pressed, I came to a large lake, on the shore of which was a canoe, partly out of water, having ten paddles all in readiness. Do not fear," he cried, " we shall soon get to it. " And so it was, even as he had said. Coming to the lake, they saw the canoe with ten paddles, and immediately they em- barked. Scarcely had they reached the centre of the lake, when they saw the bear arrive at its borders. Lifting himself on his hind legs, he looked all around. Then he vvaded into the water ; then losing his footing, he turned back, and commenced making the circuit of the lake. Meanwhile, the party remained stationary in the centre to watch his movements. He travelled around, till at last he came to the place from whence he started. Then he commenced drinking up the water, and they saw the current fast setting in towards his open mouth. The leader encouraged them to paddle hard for the opposite shore. When only a short dis- tance from land, the current had increased so much, that they were drawn back by it, and all their efforts to reach it were vain. Then the leader again spoke, telling them to meet their fates manfully. "Now is the time, Mudjikewis," said he, "to show your prowess. Take courage, and sit in the bow of the canoe ; and when it approaches his mouth, try what effect your club will have on his head." He obeyed, and stood ready to give the blow; while the leader, who steered, directed the canoe for the open mouth of the monster. Rapidly advancing, they were just about to enter his mouth, when Mudjikewis struck him a tremendous blow on the head, and gave the saw-saw-quan. The bear's limbs doubled under him, and he fell stunned by the blow. But before Mudjikewis could renew it the mou- I i 152 MISIIEMOKWA; OR, > ster disgorged all the water he had drank, with a force which sent the canoe with great velocity to the opposite shore. Instantly leaving the canoe, again they fled, and on they went till they were completely exhausted. The earth again shook, and soon they saw the monster hard after them. Their spirits drooped, and they felt discouraged. The leader exerted himself, by actions and words, to cheer them up ; and once more he asked them if they thought of nothing, or could do nothing for their rescue; and, as before, all were silent. "Then," he said, "this is the last time I can apply to my guardian spirit. Now if we do not succeed, our fates are de- cided." He ran forward, invoking his spirit with great earnestness, and gave the yell. "We shall soon arrive," said he to his brothers, "to the place where my last guardian spirit dwells. In him I place great confi- dence. Do not, uo not be afraid, or your limbs will be fear-bound. We shall soon reach his lodge. Hun, run," he cried. They were now in sight of the lodge of lamo, the magician of the undying head — of that great magician whose life had been the forfeit of the kind of necro- mantic leprosy caused by the careless steps of the fatal curse of uncleanliness in hif; sister. This lodge was the sacred spot of expected relief to which they had been fleeing, from the furious rage of the giant Bear, who had been robbed of her precious boon, the magis' saimiqiia. For it had been the design of many pre- vious war parties to obtain this boon. In the mean time, the undying head of Tamo had re- mained in the medicine sack, suspended on the sides of his wigwam, where his sister had placed it, with its mystic charms, and feathers, and arrows. This head retained all life and vitality, keeping its eyes open, anil THE WAR ^VITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 153 directing its sister, in order to procure food, where to place the magic arrows, and speaking at long intervals. One day the sister saw the eyes of the head brighten, as if through pleasure. At last it spoke. " Oh I sis- ter," it said, " in what a pitiful situation you have been the cause of placing me. Soon, very soon, a party of young men will arrive and apply to me for aid; but, alas 1 how can I give what I would have done with so much pleasure. Nevertheless, take two arrows, and place them where you have been in the habit of placing the others, and have meat prepared and cooked before- they arrive. When you hear them coming and calling on my name, go out and say, ' Alas 1 it is long ago that an accident befell him ; I was the cause of it.' If they still come near, ask them in and set meat before them. And now you must follow my directions strictly. When the bear is near, go out and meet him. You will take my medicine sack, bows and arrows, and my head. You must then untie the sack, and spread out before you my paints of all colors, my war eagle feathers, my tufts of dried hair, and whatever else it contains. As the bear approaches, you will take all these articles, one by one, and say to him, 'This is my deceased brother's paint,' and so on with all the other articles, throwing each of them as far from you as you can. The virtues contained in them will cause him to totter; and, to complete his destruction, you will take my head, and that too you will cast as far off as you can, crying aloud, * See, this is my deceased brother's head.' lie will then fall senseless. By this time the young men will have eaten, and you will cull them to your assistance. You must then cut the carcass into pieces, yes, into small pieces, and scatter them to the four winds ; for, unless you do this, he will again revive." She pro- i 154 mishemokwa; or, mised that all shooM be done as he said. She had only time to prepare the meat, when the voice of the leader was heard calling upon lamo for aid. The woman went out and invited them in as her brother had directed. But the war party, being closely pursued, came promptly up to the lodge. She invited them in, and placed the meat before them. While they were eating they heard the bear approaching. Untying the medicine sack and taking the head, she had all in readi- ness for his approach. When he came up, she did as she had been told. "Behold, Mishemokwa," she cried, " this is the meda sack of lamo. These are war eagle's feathers of lamo (casting them aside). These are magic arrows of lamo (casting them down). These are the sacred paints and magic charms of lamo. These are dried tufts of the hair of furious beasts. And this (swinging it with all her might) is his undying head." The monster began to totter, as she cast one thing after the other on the ground, but still recovering strength, came close up to the woman till she flung the head. As it rolled along the ground, the blood, excited by the feelings of the head in this terrible scene, gushed from the nose and mouth. The bear, tottering, soon fell with a tremendous noise. Then she cried for help, and the young men came rushing out, haying partially regained their strength and spirits. Mudjikewis, stepping up, gave a yell, and struck the monster a blow upon the head. This he repeated till it seemed like a mass of brains ; while the others, as quick as possible, cut him into very small pieces, which they then scattered in every direction. While thus employed, happening to look around where they had thrown the meat, wonderful to behold 1 they saw, start- ing up and running off in every direction, small black THE WAR WITH THE GIQANTTC BEAR, ETC. 155 )n h ho 111 jh bears, such as are seen at the present clay. Tlie conn- try was soon overspread with these black animals. And it was from this monster that the present race of bears, the mukwahs, derived their origin. Having thus overcome their pursuer, they returned to the lodge. In the mean time, the woman, gathering the implements she had scattered, and the head, placed them again in the sack. But the head did not speak again. The war party were now triumphant, but they did not know what use to make of their triumph. Having spent so much time, and traversed so vast a country in their flight, the young men gave up the idea of ever returning to their own country, and game being plenty, they determined to remain where they now were, and make this their home. One day they moved off some distance from the lodge for the purpose of hunting, having left the wampum captured with the woman. They were very successful, and amused themselves, as all young men do when alone, by talking and jesting with each other. One of them spoke and said, "We have all this sport to ourselves ; let us go and ask our sister if she will not let us bring the head to this place, as it is still alive. It may be pleased to hear us talk and be in our company. In the mean lime, we will take food to our sister." They went, and requested the head. She told them to take it, and they took it to their hunting-grounds, and tried to amuse it, but only at times did they see its eyes beam with pleasure. One day, while busy in their encampment, they were unex- pectedly attacked by unknown Indians. The skirmish was long contested and bloody. Many of their foes were slain, but still they were thirty to one. The young men fought desperately till they were all killed. The 1 1 U 156 MISUEMOKWA; OR, attacking party then retreated to a height of ground, to muster their men, and to count the number of missing and slain. One of their young men had strayed away, and, in endeavoring to overtake them, came to the place where the undying head was hung up. Seeing that alone retain animation, he eyed it for some time with fear and surprise. However, he took it down and opened the sack, and was much pleased to see the beau- tiful feathers, one of which he placed on his head. Starting ofiF, it waved gracefully over him till he reached his party, when he threw down the head and sack, and told them how he had found it, and that the sack was full of paints and feathers. They all looked at the head and made sport of it. Numbers of the young men took up the paint and painted themselves, and one of the party took the head by the hair and said, "Look, you ugly thing, and see your paints on the faces of warriors." But the feathers were so beau- tiful, that numbers of them also placed them on their heads. Then again they used all kinds of indignity to the head, for which they were in turn repaid by the death of those who had used the feathers. Then the chief commanded them to throw all away except the head. "We will see," said he, "when we get home, what we can do to it. "We will try to make it shut its eyes." When they reached their homes they took it to the council lodge, and hung it up before the fire, fastening it with raw hide soaked, which would shrink and be- come tightened by the action of the fire. "We will then see," they said, "if we cannot make it shut its eyes." Meanwhile, for several days, the sister of lamo had been waiting for the young men to bring back the head ; THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 157 ts |g [ll Its till at last, getting impatient, she went in search of it. The young men she found lying within short distances of each other, dead, and covered with wounds. Various other bodies lay scattered in different directions around them. She searched for the head and sack, but they were nowhere to be found. She raised her voice and wept, and blackened her face. Then she walked in different directions, till she came to the place from whence the head had been taken. There she found the magic bow and arrows, where the young men, ignorant of their qualities, had left them. She thought to herself that she would find her brother's head, and came to a piece of rising ground, and there saw son 13 of his paints and feathers. These she carefully put up, and hung upon the branch of a tree till her return. At dusk she arrived at the first lodge of the enemy, in a very extensive village. Here she used a charm, common among Indians when they wish to meet with a kind reception. On applying to the old man and woman of the lodge, she was kindly received. She made known her errand. The old man promised to aid her, and told her that the head was hung up before the council fire, and that the chiefs of the village, with their young men, kept watch over it continually. The former are considered as Manitoes. She said she only wished to see it, and would be satisfied if she could only get to the door of the lodge. She knew she had not suflBcient power to take it by force. " Come with me," said the Indian, " I will take you there." They went, and they took their seats near the door. The council lodge was filled with warriors, amusing themselves with games, and constantly keeping up a fire to smoke the head, as they said, to make dry meat. They saw the eyes move, and not knowing what to uiake of it, one 14 158 mishemokwa; or, spoke and said, "Hal ha I it is beginning to feel the effects of the smoke." The sister looked up from the door, and as her eyes met tliose of her brother, tears rolled down the cheeks of the undying head. " Well," said the chief, " I thought we would make you do something at last. Look 1 look at it-^shedding tears," said he to those around him ; and they all laughed and passed their jokes upon it. The chief, looking around and observing the woman, after some time said to the old man who came with her, " Who have you got there ? I have never seen that woman before in our vilUige." "Yes," replied the man, "you have seen her ; she is a relation of mine, and seldom goes out. She stays in my lodge, and asked me to allow her to come with me to this place." In the centre of the lodge sat one of those vain young men who are always forward, and fond of boasting and displaying them- selves before others. "Why," said he, " I have seen her often, and it is to his lodge I go almost every night to court her." All the others laughed and continued their games. The young man did not know he was telling a lie to the woman's advantage, who by that means escaped scrutiny. She returned to the old man's lodge, and immedi- ately set out for her own country. Comingto the spot where ihe bodies of her adopted brothers lay, she placed them together, their feet toward the east. Then taking an axe which she had, she cast it up into the air, crying out, " Brothers, get up from under it, or it will fall on you." This she repeated three times, and the third time the brothers all arose and stood on their feet. M idjikewis commenced rubbing his eyes and stretch- ing himself. "Why," said he, "I have overslept my- 1 THE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR, ETC. 159 1 self." "No, indeed," said one of the others, "do you not know we were all killed, and that is our sister who has brought us to life ?" The young men took the bodies of their enemies and burned them. Soon after, the woman went to procure wives for them, in a distant country, they knew not where ; but she returned with ten young females, which she gave to the young men, beginning with the eldest. Mudjike is stepped to and fro, uneasy lest he should not get the one he liked. But he was not disappointed, for she fell to his lot. And they were well matched, for she was afemale'magician. They then all moved into a very large lodge, and their sister lamoqua told them that the women must now take turns in going to her brother's head every night, trying to untie it. They all said they would do so with plea- sure. The eldest made the first attempt, and with a rushing noise she fled through the air. Towards daylight she returned. She had been un- successful, as she succeeded in untying only one of the knots. All took their turns regularly, and each one succeeded in untying only one knot each time. But when the youngest went, she commenced the work as soon as she reached the lodge ; although it had always been occupied, still the Indians never could see any one, for they all possessed invisibility. For ten nights now, the smoke had not ascended, but filled the lodge and drove them out. This last night they were all driven out, and the young woman carried off the head. The young people and the sister heard the young woman coming high through the air, and they heard her saying, " Prepare the body of our brother." And as soon as they heard it, they went to a small lodge where the black body of lamo lay. His sister coniinenced cutting the neck part, from which the head had been I 160 MI8HEM0KWA; OR, THE WAR WITH THE BEAR, ET^ severed. She cut so deep as to cause it to bleed ; and the others who were present, by rubbing the body and applying medicines, expelled the blackness. In the mean time, the one who brought it, by cutting the neck of the head, caused that also to bleed. As soon as she arrived, they placed that close to the body, and by the aid of medicines and various other means, succeeded in restoring lamo to all his former beauty and manliness. All rejoiced in the happy ter- mination of their troubles, and they had spent some time joyfully together, when lamo said, "Now I will divide the wampum ;" and getting the belt which con- tained it, he commenced with the eldest, giving it in equal proportions. But the youngest got the most splendid and beautiful, as the bottom of the belt held the richest and rarest. They were told that, since they had all once died, and were restored to life, they were no longer mortals, but spirits, and they were assigned different stations in the invisible world. Only Mudjikewis's place was, how- ever, named. lie was to direct the west icind, hence generally called Kabeyun, the father of Manabozho, there to remain forever. They were commanded, as they had it in their power, to do good to the inhabit- ants of the earth; and forgetting their sufferings in procuring the wampum, to give all things with a liberal hand. And they were also commanded that it should also be held by them sacred; those grains or shells of the pale hue to be emblematic of peace, while those of the darker hue would lead to evil and to war. The spirits, then, amid songs and shouts, took their flight to their respective abodes on hii_':h ; while lamo, with his sister lamoqua, descended into the depths below. I £'. rri ; and y and n the ; neck to the other former py ter- b some r I will ih con- g it in e most jlt held ce died, nortals, ttions in as, how- rf, hence labozho, ided, as inhabit- srings in a liberal t should shells of those of 3ok their lie lamo, le depths THE RED SWAN. Three brothers were left destitute, by the death of their parents, at an early age. The eldest was not yet able to provide fully for their support, but did all he could in hunting, and with his aid, and the stock of provisions left by their father, they were preserved and kept alive, rather, it seems, by miraculous interposition, than the adequacy of their own exertions. For the father had been a hermit,* having removed far away from the body of the tribe, so that when he and his wife died they left their children without neighbors and friends, and the lads had no idea that there was a hu- man being near them. They did not even know who their parents had been, for the eldest was too young, at the time of their death, to remember it. Forlorn as they were, they did not, however, give up to despond- ency, but made use of every exertion they could, and in process of time, learned the art of hunting and kill- ing animals. The eldest soon became an expert hunter, and was very successful in procuring food. He was noted for his skill in killing buffalo, elk, and moose, and he instructed his brothers in the arts of the forest as soon as they became old enough to follow him. After they had become able to hunt and take care of themselves, the elder proposed to leave them, and go * Pai-gwud-aw-diz-zid, 14* 162 THE RED SWAN. in search of habitations, promising to return as soon as he could procure them wives. In this project he was overruled by his brothers, who said they could not part with him. Maujeekewis, the second eldest, was loud in his disapproval, saying, " What will you do with those you propose to get — we have lived so long without them, and we can still do without them." His words pre- vailed, and the three brothers continued together for a time. One day they agreed to kill each, a male of those kind of animals each was most expert in hunting, for the purpose of making quivers from their skins. They did sc, and immediately commenced making arrows to fill their quiverS; that they might be prepared for any emer- gency. Soon after, they hunted on a wager, to see who should come in first with game, and prepare it so as to regale the others. Tliey were to shoot no other ani- mal, but such as each was in the habit of killing. They set out dilferent ways ; Odjibwa, the youngest, had not gone far before he saw a bear, an animal he was not to kill, by the agreement. lie followed him close, and drove an arrow through him, which brought him to the ground. Although contrary to the bet, he immediately commenced skinning him, when suddenly something red tinged all the air around him. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was perhaps deceived, but without effect, for the red hue continued. At length he heard a strange noise at a distance. It first appeared like a human voice, but after following the sound for some distance, he reached the shores of a lake, and soon saw the object he V. 1 looking for. At a distance out in the lake, sat a most beautiful Rod Swan, whose plumage glittered in the sun, a!id who would now and then make the same noise he had henrd. He was within long bow shot, TUE RiJD SWAN. 163 and pulling the arrow from the bow-string up to his ear, took deliberate aim and shot. The arrow took no effect ; and he shot and shot again till his quiver was empty. Still the swan remained, moving around and around, stretching its long neck and dipping its bill into the water, as if heedless of the arrows shot at it. Odjibwa ran home, and got all his own and his brothers' arrows, and shot them all away. He then stood and gazed at the beautiful bird. While standing, he remembered his brothers' saying that in their deceased father's medicine sack were three magic arrows. Off he started, his anxiety to kill the swan overcoming all scruples. At any other time, he would have deemed it sacrilege to open his father's medicine sack, but now he hastily seized the three arrows and ran back, leaving the other contents of the sack scattered over the lodge. The swon was still there, lie shot the first arrow with great precision, and came very near to it. The second came still closer ; as he took the last arrcw, he felt his arm firmer, and drawing it up with vigor, saw it pass through the neck of the swan a little above the breast. Still it did not prevent the bird from flying off, which it did, however^ at first slowly, flapping its wings and rising gradually into the air, and then flying off toward the sinking of the sun.* Odjibwa was disappointed; he knew that his brothers would be displeased with him ; he rushed into the water and rescued the two magic arrows, the third was carried off by the swan ; but he thought that it could not fly very far with it, and let the consequences be what they might, he was bent on fol- lowing it. Off he started on the run ; he was noted for speed, * Puiigish-o-moo, falling or niiiking to a position of repose. 164 THE RED SWAN. for he would shoot an arrow, and then run so fast that the arrow always fell behind him. I can run fast, he thought, and I can get up with the swan some time or other. He thus ran over hills and prf.iries, toward the west, till near night, and was only going to take one more run, and then seek a place to sleep for the night, when suddenly he heard noises at a distance, which he knew were from people ; for some were cutting trees, and the strokes of their axes echoed through the woods. When he emerged from the forest, the sun was just fall- ing below the horizon, and he felt pleased to find a place to sleep in, and get something to eat, as he had left home without a mouthful. All these circumstances could not damp his ardor for the accomplishment of his object, and he felt that if he only persevered, he would succeed. At a distance, on a rising piece of ground, he could see an extensive town. He went toward it, but soon heard the watchman, Mudjee-Kokokoiio, who was placed on some height to overlook the place, and give notice of the approach of friends or foes — crying out, "We are visited ;" and a loud holla indicated that they all heard it. The young man advanced, and was pointed by the watchman to the lodge of the chief, "It is there you must go in," he said, and left him. " Come in, come in," said the chief, "take a seat there," pointing to the side where his daughter sat. "It is there you must sit." Soon they gave him something to eat, and very few questions were asked him, being a stranger. It was only when he spoke, that the others answered him. "Daughter," said the chief, after dark, "take our son- in-law's moccasins, and see if they be torn ; if so, mend them for him, and bring in his bundle." The young man thought it strange that he should be so warmly received, and married instantly, without bis wishing it, THE RED SWAN. 165 although ih young girl was pretty. It was soVne time before she would take his moccasins, which he had taken off. It displeased him to see her so reluctant to do so, and when she did reach them, he snatched them out of her hand and hung them up himself. He laid down and thought of the swan, and made up his mind to be off by dawn. He awoke early, and spoke to the young woman, but she gave no answer. He slightly touched her. "What do you want?" she said, and turned her back toward him. "Tell me," he said, "what time the swan passed. I am following it, and come out and point the direction." "Do you think you can catch up to it?" she said. "Yes," he answered. "Naubesah" (fool- ishness), she said. She, however, went out and pointed in the direction he should go. The young man went slowly till the sun arose, when he commenced travelling at his accustomed speed. He passed tlie day in run- ning, and when night came, he was unexpectedly pleased to find himself near another town; and when at a dis- tance, he heard the watchman crying out, "We are visited ;" and soon the men of the village stood out to see the stranger. He was again told to entei the lodge of the chief, and his reception was, in ever, respect, the same as he met the previous night; only that the young woman was more beautiful, and receive • liim verv kiiullv, but although urged to stay, his mind was fixed on the object of his journey. Uefore daylight he asked the young woman what time the Ked Swan passed, and to point out the way. She did so, and said it passed yes- terday when the sun was between midday and ptiixjlsh- "moo — its falling i)laee. He again set out rather slowly, but when the sun had arisen he tried his speed by shot.t- ing an arrow ahead, and running after it; but it fell behind him. Nothing remarkab.e Imppened in the course 166 THE RED SWAN. of the day, and he went on leisurely. Toward night, he came to the lodge of an old man. Some time after dark he saw a light emitted from a small. low lodge. He went up to it very slyly, and peeping through the door, saw an old man alone, warming his back before the fire, with his head down on his breast. He thought the old man did not know that he was standing near the door, but in this he was disappointed ; for so soon as he looked in, ''Walk in, Nosis,"* he said, "take a seat opposite to me, and take off your things and dry them, for you must be fatigued; and I will prepare you something to eat." Odjibwa did as he was requested. The old man, whom he perceived to be a magician, then said: "My kettle with water stands near the fire ;" and immediately a small earthen or a kind of metallic pot with legs appeared by the fire. He then took one grain of corn, also one whortleberry, and put them in the pot. As the young man was very hungry, he thought that his chance for a supper was but small. Not a word or a look, however, revealed his feelings. The pot soon boiled, when the old man spoke, commanding it to stand some distance from the fire; "Nosis," said he, "feed yourself," uid he handed him a dish and ladle made out of the same metal as the pot. The young man helped liimsc'lf to all that was in the pot; he felt ashamed to \ ink of his having done so, but before he could speak, the old man said, " Xosis, eat, cat;" and soon after he again said, " Help yourself from the pot." Oiljibwa was surprised on looiving into it to see it full ; ne kept on taking all out, and as soon as it wr- :)ne, it was again filled, till he had amply satisfied is hunger. The uuigleian then spoke, and the pot occupied its accustomed i>hi(.'e * M/ gramlcliihl. THE RED SWAN. 167 in one part of the lodge. The young man then leisurely reclined back, and listened to the predictions of his entertainer, who told him to keep on, and he would ob- tain his object. "To tell you more," said he, "I am not permitted; but go on as you have commenced, and you will not be disappointed ; to-morrow you will again reach one of my fellow old men; but the one you will see after him will tell you all, and the manner in which you will proceed to accomplish your journey. Often has this lied Swan passed, and those who have followed it have never returned: but you must be firm in your resolution, and be prepared for all events." " So will it be," answered Odjibwa, and they both laid down to sleep. Early in the morning, the old man had his magic kettle prepared, so that his guest should eat before leaving. When leaving, tne old man gave hira his parting advice. Odjibwa set out in bevter spirits than he had done since leaving home. Night again found him in company with an old man, who received him kindly, and directed him on his way in the morning. He travelled with a light heart, expecting to meet the one who was to give him directior ^5 how to ])roceed to get the Red Swan. Toward nightfall, he reached the third old man's lodge. Before coming to the door, he heard him saying, "Nosis, come in," and going in immediately, he felt quite at home. The old man prepared him something to eat, acting as the other magicians had done, and his kettle was of the same dimensions and material. The old man waited till lie had done eating, when he commenced addressing him. " Voung man, tlie errand you are on is very diffi- cult. Numbers of young men have passed with the same pur|)ose, but never returned, lie careful, and if your guardian spirits are powerful, you may succeed. 168 THE RED SWAN. This Red Swan you are following, is the daughter of a magician, who has plenty of everything, but he values his daughter but little less than wampum. He wore a cap of wampum, which was attached to his scalp; but powerful Indians — warriors of a distant chief, came and told h.. , that their chief's daughter was on the brink of the grave, and she herself requested his scalp of wam- pum to effect a cure. ' If I can only see it, I will recover,' she said, and it was for this reason they came, and after long urging the magician, he ai, last consented to pit with it, only from the idea of restoring the yo'.r;!>: Yoman to health; although when he took it of^, it J eft his head bare and bloody. Several years have passed since, and it has not healed. The warriors' coi ii? . for it, was only a cheat, and they now are con- stant making sport of it, dancing it about from village to village ; and on every insult it receives, the old man groans from pain. Those Indians are too powerful for the magician, and numbers have sacrificed themselves to recover it for him, but without success. The Red Swan has enticed many a young man, as she has done you, in order to get them to procure it, and whoever is the for- tunate one that succeeds, will receive the Red Swan as his reward. In the morning you will proceed on your way, and toward evening you will come to the magician's lodge, but before you enter you will hear his groans; he will immediately ask you in, ond you will see no one but himself; he will mak- inquirie& of you, as regards your dreams, and the pov i rs of your j^ i.irdiaa spirits; he will then ask you to attempt the recovery of his scalp ; he will show you the direction, and if you feel inclined, as I dare say you do, go forward, my son, with a strong heart, persevere, and I have a presenti- ment you will succeed." The young man answered, " I THE RED SWAN. 1G9 •i- will try." Early next morninj^, after having; eaten from the magic kettle, he started off on his journey. Toward evening he came to the lodge as he was told, and soon heard the groans of the magician. "Come in," he said, even before the young man reached the door. On entering he saw his head all bloody, and he was groaning most terribly. " Sit down, sit down," he said, " while I prepare you something to eat," at the same time doing as the other magicians had done, in preparing food — " You see," he said, " how poor I am ; I have to attend to all my wants," He said this to conceal the fact that the Red Swan was there, but Odjibwa per- ceived that the lodge was partitioned, and he heard a rustling noise, now and then, in that quarter, which satisfied him that it was occupied. After h.aving taken his leggings and moccasins off, and eaten, the old magi- cian commenced telling him how he had lost his scalp — the insults it was receiving — the i)ain he was sulfering in consequence — his wishes to regain it — the unsuc- cessful attempts that had already been made, and the numbers and power of those who detained it; stated the best and most probable way of getting it; touching the young man on his pride and ambition, by the proposed adventure, and last, he spoke of such things as would make an Indian rich. He would interrupt his discourse by now and then groaning, and saying, " Oh, how shame- fully they are treating it." Odjibwa listened with solemn attention. The old man then asked him about his dreams — his dreams (or as he saw when asleep*) at the particular time he had fasted and blackened his face to procure guardian spirits. The yoiuig man then told him one dream ; the niaui- * Eiiaw-bauuduiu. 16 ^ ► no TUE RED SV/AN. cian groaned; "No, that is not it," he said. The young man told him another. He groaned again ; "That is not it," he said. The young man told him of two or three others. The magician groaned at each recital, and said, rather peevishly, "No, those are not them." The young man then thought to himself, Who are you ? you may groan as much as you please ; I am inclined not to tell you any more dreams. The magi- cian then ST oke in rather a supplicating tone. " Have you no more dreams of another kind ?" " Yes," said the young man, and told him one. " That is it, that is it," he cried; "you will cause me to live. That was what I was wishing you to say ;" and he rejoiced greatly. " Will you then go and see if you cannot procure my scalp?" "Yes," said the young man, " I will go ; and the day after to-morrow,* when you hear the cries of the Kakak,f you will know, by this sign, that I am successful, and you must prepare your head, and lean it out through the door, so that the moment I arrive, I may place your scalp on." "Yes, yes," said the magician ; " as you say, it will be done." Early next morning, he set out on his perilo.is adven- ture, and about the time that the sun hangs toward home, (afternoon) he heard the shouts of a great many people, lie was in a wood at the time, and saw, as he thought, only a few men ; but the further he went, the more nu- merous they appeared. On emerging into a plain, their heads appeared like the hanging leaves for number. In the centre he perceived a post, and something wav- ing on it, which was the scalp. Now and then the air 4!? 1 * The Indian expression is, Awuas-Waubung — the day be- yond to-morrow. t A species of hawk. •I THE RED SWAN. ni 5c- I I f was rent with the Sait-sau-qnan, for they were dancing the war dance around it. Before he could be perceived, he turned himself into a No-noskau-see (humming- bird), and flew toward the scalp. As he passed some of those who were standing by, he flew close to their ears, making the humming noise which this bird does when it flies. They jumped on one side, and asked each other what it could be. By this time he had nearly reached the scalp, but fearing he should be perceived while untying it, he changed himself into a Me-sau-be-wau-aun (the down of any- thing that floats lightly on the air), and then floated slowly and lightly on to the scalp. He untied it, and moved off slowly, as the weight was almost too great. It was as much as he could do to keep it up, and pre- vent the Indians from snatching it away. The moment they saw it was moving, they filled the air with their cries of "It is taken from us; it is taken from us." He continued moving a few feet above them : the rush and hum of the people was like the dead beating surges after a storm. He soon gained on them, and they gave up the pursuit. After going a little further he changed himself into a Kakak, and flew off" with his prize, mak- ing that peculiar noise which this bird makes. In the mean time, the magician had followed his in- structions, placing his head outside of the lodge, as soon as he heard the cry of the Kakak, and soon after he heard the rustling of its wings. In a moment Od- jibwa stood before him. He immediately gave the ma- gician a severe blow on the head with the wampum scalp: his limbs extended a qi )ny the effects of the blow: the scalp adhered, and the young man walked in and sat down, feeling perfectly at home. The magician was so long iu recovering from 112 THE RED SWAN. I M t i the stunninp^ blow, that the yonnf^ man feared he had killed him, lie was however ])leased to see him show signs of life; he first commenced rioving;, and soon ?at up. But how surprised was Odjibwa to see, not i\n aged man, far in years and decrepitude, but one of tlie handsomest young men he ever saw stand up before him. " Thank you, my /newt/," he said ; "you see thai your kindness and bravery have restored me to my former fill ipe. It was so ordained, and you have now accom- pli>lied t'ne victory." The young magician urged the stay of his deliverer for a few days; and they soon formed a warm attachment for each other. The magi- cian never alluded to the lied Swan in their conver- sations. At last, the day arrived when Odjibwa made prepa- rations to n^turn. The young magician amply repaid liini for his kindness and bravery, by various kinds of wampnin, robes, and all such things as he had need of to make him an influential man. But though the young man's curiosity '-vas at its height about the Red Swan, he controlled bis feelings, and never so much as even hinted of her ; feeling that he would surrender a point of propriety in so doing; while the one he had render- ed such service to, whose hospitality he was now enjoy- ing, and who had richly rewarded him, had never so much as even mentioned anything about her, but studi- ously concealed her. Odjibwa's pack for travelling was ready, and he was taking his firewell smoke, when the young magician thus addressed him : "Friend, you know for what cause you came thus far. You have accomplished your object, and conferred a lasting obligation on me. Your per- severance shall not go unrewarded; and if you under- ;'";l|, ■.;!<'' THE RED SWAN. 173 was rician Icause l)ject, pcr- luder- tako other things with the same spirit you have this, you will never fail to accomplish them. My duty ren- ders it necessary for me to remain where I am, although I should feel happy to go with you. I have given you all you will need as long as you live ; but I see you feel backward to speak about the Red Swan. I vowed that whoever procured me my scalp, should be rewarded by possessing the Red Swan." lie then spoke, and knocked on the partition. '''!.< door immediately opened, and the Red Swan m( i ^ eager gaze. She was a most beautiful female, and a.s she stood majesti- cally before him, it would be impossible to describe her charms, for she looked as if she did not belong to earth. ** Take her," the young magician said ; "she is my sister, treat her well ; she is worthy of you, and what you have done for me merits more. She is ready to go with you to your kindred and friends, and has been so ever since your arrival, and my good wishes go with you both." She then looked very kindly on her husband, who now bid farewell to his friend indeed, and accompanied by the object of his wishes, he commenced retracing his footsteps. They travelled slowly, and after two or three days reached the lodge of the third old man, who had fed him from his small magic pot. He was very kind, and said, "You see what your perseverance has procured you; do so always and you will succeed in all things you undertake." On the following morning when they were going to start, he pulled from the side of the lodge a bag, which he presented to the young man, saying, "Nosis, I give you this; it contains a present for you; and I hope you will live happily till old age." They then bid farewell to him and proceeded on. 15* .% ^, ^,^0 w > IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /> 1.0 1.1 ■U Itt 12.2 s; u& 12.0 u 1.25 i 1.4 1.6 <^ / >>> ^"'^ '^I-^' .V // ^.T c>;'^ Fhotograjiiic Sciences CarporatiQn ■O^ <^ V <«^. '*■ 33 WIST MAIN STMIT WIUTIR.N.V. I4SM (7l*)t73-4S03 '^ rrr I '. I ■ i I 'It ^'i 174 TUE RED SWAN. They soon reached the second old man's lodge. Their reception there was the same as at the first; he also gave them a present, with the old man's wishes that they would be happy. They went on and reached the first town, which the young man had passed in his pursuit. The watchman gave notice, and he was shown into the chief's lodge. "Sit down there, son-in-law," said the chief, pointing to a place near his daughter. "And you also," he said to the Red Swan. • The young woman of the lodge was busy in making something, but she tried to show her indifference about what was taking place, for she did not even raise her head to see who was come. Soon the chief said, "Let some one bring in the bundle of our son-in-law." When it was brought in, the young man opened one of the bags, which he had received from one of the old men ; it contained wampum, robes, and various other articles; he presented them to his father-in-law, and all express- ed their surprise at the value and richness of the gift. The chief's daughter then only stole a glance at the present, then at Odjibwa and his beautiful wife; she stopped working, and remained silent and thoughtful all the evening. They conversed about his adventures; after this the chief told him that he should take his daughter along with him in the morning; the young man said "Yes." The chief then spoke out, saying, "Daughter, be ready to go with him in the morning." There was u Munjeukewis in the lodge, who thought to have got the young woman to wife ; he jumped up, saying, "Who is he (meaning the young man), that he should take her for a few presents. I will kill him," and he raised a knife which he had in his hand. But he only waited till some one held him back, and then sat down, for he was too great u coward to do as ho TU£ EED SWAN. 175 )ress- gift. the she tful ures ; his oung »g ught I up, the im," JJut then s ho ..#« »» had threatened. Early they took their departure, amid the greetings of their new friends, and toward evening reached the other town. The watchman gave the signal, and numbers of men, women, and children stood out to see them. They were again shown into the chiefs lodge, who welcomed them by saying, " Son-in- law, you are welcome," and requested him to take a seat by his daughter ; and the two women did the same. After the usual formalities of smoking and eating, the chief requested the young man to relate his travels in the hearing of all the inmates of the lodge, and those who came to see. They looked with admiration and astonishment at the Red Swan, for she was so beautiful. Odjibwa gave them his whole history. The chief then told him that his brothers had been to their town in search of him, but had returned, and given up all hopes of ever seeing him again. Ue concluded by saying that since he had been so fortunate and so manly, he should take his daughter with him; "for although your bro- thers," said he, " were here, they were too timid to enter any of our lodges, and merely inquired for you and returned. You will take my daughter, treat her well, and that will bind us more closely together." It is alwavs the case in towns, that some one in it is foolish or clownish. It happened to be so here; for a ^faujeekewis was in the lodge; and after the young man had given his fathcr-in-Iaw presents, as he did to the first, this Maujeekewis jura[)ed up in a passion, saying, "Who is this stranger, that he should have her? I want her myself." The chief told him to be quiet, and not to u sturb or quarrel with one who was enjoying their hospitality. "No, no," he boisterously cried, and made an attempt to strike the stranger. Odjibwa was above fearing his threats, and paid no 116 THE RED SWAN. K attention to him. He cried the louder, " I will have her; I will have her." In an instant he was laid flat on the ground from a blow of a war club given by the chief. After he came to himself, the chief upbraided him for his foolishness, and told him to go out and tell stories to the old women. Their arrangements were then made, and the stranger invited a number of families to go and visit their hunt- ing grounds, as there was plenty of game. They con- sented, and in the morning a large party were assem- bled to accompany the young man ; and the chief with a large party of warriors escorted them a long distance. When ready to return the chief made a speech, and in- voked the blessing of the great good Spirit on his son- in-law and party. After a number of days' travel, Odjibwa and his party came in sight of his home. The party rested while he went alone in advance to see his brothers. When he entered the lodge he found it all dirty and covered with ashes : on one side was his eldest brother, with his face blackened, and sitting amid ashes, crying aloud. On the other side was Maujeekewis, his other brother; his face was also blackened, but his head was covered with feathers and swan's down ; he looked so odd, that the young man could not keep from laughing, for he appeared and pretended to be so absorbed with grief that he did not notice his brother's arrival. Thi est jumped up and shook hands with him, and kisscu Aim, and felt very happy to see him again. Odjibwa, after seeing all things put to rights, told them that he had brought each of them a wife. When Maujeekewis heard about the wife, he jumped up and said, "Why is it just now that you have come?" and made for the dour and peeped out to see the woman. THE RED SWAN. 177 He then commenced jumping and laughing, saying, " Women I women 1" Tliat was the only reception he gave his brother. Odjibwa then told them to wash themselves and prepare, for he would go and fetch them in. Maujeekewis jumped and washed himself, but would every now and then go and peep out to see the women. When they came near, he said, " I will have this one, and that one;" he did not exactly know which — he would go and sit down for an instant, and then go and peep and laugh ; he acted like a madman. As soon as order was restored, and all seated, Od- jibwa presented one of the women to his eldest brother, saying, "These women were given to me ; I now give one to each ; I intended so from the first." Maujeeke- wis spoke, and said, "I think three wives would have been enough for you." The young man led one to Mau- jeekewis, saying, "My brother, here is one for you, and live happily." Maujeekewis hung down his head as if he was ashamed, but would everv now and then steal a glance at his wife, and also at the other women. By and by he turned toward his wife, and acted as if he had been married for years. "Wife," he said, " I will go and hunt," and off he started. All lived peaceably for some time, and their town prospered, the inhabitants increased, and everything was abundant among them. One day dissatisfaction was manifested in the conduct of the two elder brothers, on account of Odjibwa's having taken their deceased father's magic arrows : they upbraided and urged him to procure others if he could. Their object was to ^et him away, so that one of them might afterward get his wife. One dny, after listening to them, he told them he would go. Maujeekewis and himself went together into a sweating lodge to purify themselves. Even there, ITS THE RED S\VAN. although it was held sacred, Maujeekewis upbraided him for the arrows. He told him again he would go ; and next day, true to his word, he left them. After travelling a long way he came to an opening in the earth, and descending, it led him to the abode of depart- ed spirits. The country appeared beautiful, the extent of it was lost in the distance : he saw animals of various kinds in abundance. The first he came near to were buffalo ; his surprise was great when these animals ad- dressed him as human beings. They asked him what he came for, how he descended, why he was so bold as to visit the abode of the dead. He told them he was in search of magic arrows to appease his brothers. "Very well," said the leader of the buffaloes, whose whole form was nothing but bone. " Yes, we know it," and he and his followers moved off a little space as if they were afraid of him. "You have come," resumed the Buffalo Spirit, "to a place where a living man has never before been. You will return immediately to your tribe, for your brothers are trying to dishonor your wife ; and you will live to a very old age, and live and die happily ; you can go no further in these abodes of ours." Odjibwa looked, as he thought to the west, and saw a bright light, as if the sun was shining in its splendor, but he saw no sun. "What light is that I see yonder ?" he asked. The all-boned buffalo answered, "It is the place where those who were good dwell." " And that dark cloud ?" Odjibwa again asked. " Mud- jee-izzhi-wabezewin," (wickedness) answered the buffalo. He asked no more questions, and, with the aid of his guardian spirits, again stood on this earth and saw the sun giving light as usual, and breathed the pure air. All else he saw in the abodes of the dead, and his travels and actions previous to his return, are unknown. After ■•■.# THE RED SWAN. 170 )raidecl lid go; After in the depart- ! extent various to were iials ad- m what bold as he was rothers. , whose now it," ice as if resumed (lan has Eitely to ishonor and live abodes le west, g in its 3 that I swered, dwell." '•Mud- butfalo. of his saw the ure air. travels After wandering a long time in quest of information to make his people happy, he one evening drew near to his vil- lage or town ; passing all the other lodges and coming to his own, he heard his brothers at high words with each other; they were quarrelling for the possession of his wife. She had, however, remained constant, and mourned the absence and probable loss of her husband; but she had mourned him with the dignity of virtue. The noble youth listened till he was satisfied of the base principles of his brothers. He then entered the lodge, with the stern air and conscious dignity of a brave and honest man. He spoke not a word, but placing the magic arrows to his bow, drew them to their length and laid the brothers dead at his feet. Thus ended the contest between the hermit's sons, and a firm and happy union was consummated between Odjibwa, or him of the primitive or intonated voice, and the Red Swan. TAU-WAU-CHEE-HEZKAW, OR THE WHITE FEATHER. A DACOTAH LEGEND. There was an old man living in the centre of a forest, with his grandson, whom he had taken when quite an infant. The child had no parents, brothers, or sisters ; they had all been destroyed by six large giants, and he had been informed that he had no other relative living besides his grandfather. The band to whom he belonged had put up their children on a wager in a race against those of the giants, and had thus lost them. There was an old tradition in the band, that it would produce a great man, who would wear a white feather, and who would astonish every one with his skill and feats of bravery. The grandfather, as soon as the child could play about, gave him a bow and arrows to amuse himself. lie went into the edge of the woods one day, and saw a rabbit; but not knowing what it was, he ran homo and described it to his grandfather. He told him what it was, that its flesh was good to eat, and that if he would shoot one of his arrows into its body, he would kill it. lie did so, and brought the little animal home, •i TAU-WAU-CIIEE-IIEZKAW; OR THE WHITE FEATHER. 181 V, centre of a taken when IB, brothers, )y six large ad no other 'he band to ildren on a its, and had in the band, rould wear a ery one with could play luse himself, lay, and saw le ran homo [old him what 4 that if he |dy, he would uuual home, 5& which he asked his grandfather to boil, that theymig'it feast on it. lie humored the boy in this, and en- couraged him to go on in acquiring the knowledge of hunting, until he could kill deer and larger animals ; and he became, as he grew up, an expert hunter. As they lived alone, and away from other Indians, his cu- riosity was excited to know what was passing in the world. One day he came to the edge of a prairie, where he saw ashes like those at his grandfather's lodge, and lodge-poles left standing. He returned and in- quired whether his grandfather put up the poles and made the fire. He was answered no, nor did he believe that he had seen anything of the kind. It was all ima- gination. Another day he went out to see what there was curious ; and, on entering the woods, he heard a voice calling out to him, "Come here, you destined wearer of the White Feather. You do not yet wear it, but you are worthy of it. Return home and take a short nap. You will dream of hearing a voice, which will tell you to rise and smoke. You will see in your dream a pipe, smoking sack, and a large white feather. When you awake you will find these articles. Put the feather on your head, and you will become a great hunter, a great warrior, and a great man, capable of doing anything. As a proof that you will become a great hunter, when you smoke, the smoke will turn into pigeons." The voice then informed him who he was, and disclosed the true character of his grandfather, who had imposed upon him. The voice-spirit then gave him a vine, and told him he was of an age to revenge the injuries of his relations. "When you meet your enemy," continued the spirit, "you will run a race with him. He will not see the vine, because it is enchanted. While von are IG 182 TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ; OR, : I running, you will throw it over his head and entangle him, so that you will win the race." Long ere this speech was ended, he had turned to the quarter from which the voice proceeded, and was aston- ished to behold a man, for as yet he had never seen any man besides his grandfather, whose object it was to keep him in ignorance. But the circumstance that gave him the most surprise was, that this man, who had the looks of great age, was composed of wood from his breast downward, and appeared to be fixed in the earth. He returned home, slept, heard the voice, awoke, and found the promised articles. His grandfather was greatly surprised to find him with a white feather on his forehead, and to see flocks of pigeons flying out of his lodge. He then recollected what had been pre- dicted, and began to weep at the prospect of losing his charge. Invested with these honors, the young man de- parted the next morning to seek his enemies and gratify his revenge. The giants lived in a very high lodge in the middle of a wood. He travelled on till he came to this lodge, where he found that his coming had been made known by the little spirits who carry the news. The giants came out, and gave a cry of joy as they saw him coming. When he approached nearer, they began to make sport of him, saying, "Here comes the little man with the white feather, who is to achieve such wonders." They, however, spoke very fair to him when he came up, saying he was a brave man, and would do brave things. This they said to encourage, and the more surely to deceive him. He, however, understood the object. He went fearlessly up to the lodge. They told him to commence the race with the smallest of their THE WHITE FEATHER. 183 kd entangle rned to the was aston- er seen any i it was to :e that gave ^ho had the d from his n the earth, ice, awoke, dfather was feather on lying out of I been pre- )f losing his g raan de- an d gratify h lodge in le came to had been the news. as they saw hey began the little neve such lir to him man, and encourage, however, They told jt of their number. The point to which they wore to run was a peeled tree towards the rising sun, and then back to the starting-place, which was marked by a CiiAUNKAiirEE, or war-club, made of iron. This club was the stake, and whoever won it was to use it in beating the other's brains out. If he beat the first giant, he was to try the " second, and so on until they had all measured speed with him. lie won the first race by a dexterous use of the vine, and immediately despatched his competitor, and cut off his head. Next morning he ran with the se- cond giant, whom he also outran, killed, and decapitated. lie proceeded in this way for five successive mornings, always conquering by the use of his vine, cutting off the heads of the vanquished. The survivor acknow- ledged his power, but prepared secretly to deceive him. He wished him to leave the heads he had cut off, as he believed he could again reunite them with the bodies, by means of one of their medtcmes. White Feather insisted, however, in carrying all the heads to his grandfather. One more contest was to be tried, which would decide the victory ; but, before going to the giant's lodge on the sixth morning, he met his old counsellor in the woods, who was stationary. He told him that he was about to be deceived. That he had never known any other sex but his own ; but that, as he went on his way to the lodge, he would meet the most beautiful woman in the world. He must pay no attention to her, but, on meeting her, he must vvish him- self changed into a ""male elk. The transformation would take place immediately, when he must go to feeding and not regard her. He proceeded towards the lodge, met the female, and became an elk. She reproached him for having turned himself into an elk on seeing her; said she had i n 1 * ♦! 184 TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ; OR, travelled a p^reat distance for the purpose of seeing him, and hecoining his wife. Now this woman was the sixth giant, who had assumed this disguise ; hut Tau-Wau- Chee-Hezkaw remained in ignorance of it. ller re- proaches and her beauty aftected him so much, that he wished himself a man again, and he at once resumed his natural shape. They sat down together, and he began to caress her, and make love to her. lie finally ventured to lay his head on her lap, and went to sleep. She pushed his head aside at first, for the purpose of trying if he was really asleep ; and when she was satis- fied he was, she took her axe and broke his back. She then assumed her natural shape, which was in the form of the sixth giant, and afterwards changed him into a dog, in which degraded form he followed his enemy to the lodge. He took the white feather from his brow, and wore it as a trophy on his own head. There was an Indian village at some distance, in which there lived two girls, who were rival sisters, the daughters of a chief. They were fasting to acquire power for the purpose of enticing the wearer of the white feather to visit their village. They each secretly hoped to engage his affections. Each one built herself a lodge at a short distance from the village. The giant knowing this, and having now obtained the valued plume, went immediately to visit them. As he approached, the girls saw and recognized the feather. The eldest sister prepared her lodge with great care and parade, so as to attract the eye. The younger, supposing that he was a man of sense, and would not be enticed by mere parade, touched nothing in her lodge, but left it as it ordinarily was. The eldest went out to meet him, and invited him in. He accepted her invitation, and made her his wife. The younger invited THE WHITE FEATHER. 185 the enchanted dog into her lodge, and made him a good bed, and treated him with as much attention as if he were her husband. The giant, supposing that whoever possessed the white feather possessed also all its virtues, went oiit upon the prairie to hunt, but returned unsuccessful. The dog went out the same day a hunting upon the banks of a river. He drew a stone out of the water, which immediately became a beaver. The next day the giant followed the dog, and hiding behind a tree, saw the manner in which the dog went into the river and drew out a stone, which at once turned into a beaver. As soon as the dog left the place, the giant went to the river, and observing the same manner, drew out a stone, and had the satisfaction of seeing it transformed into a beaver. Tying it to his belt, he carried it home, and, as is customary, threw it down at the door of the lodge before he entered. After being seated a short time, he told his wife to bring in his belt or hunting girdle. She did so, and returned with it, with nothing tied to it but a stone. The next day, the dog, finding his method of catch- ing beavers had been discovered, went to a wood at some distance, and broke oflf a charred limb from a burned tree, which instantly became a bear. The giant, who had again watched him, did the same, and carried a bear home ; but his wife, when she came to go out for it, found nothing but a black stick tied to his belt. The giant's wife determined she would go to her father, and tell him what a valuable husband she had, who furnished her lodge with abundance. She set out while her husband went to hunt. As soon as they had departed, the dog made signs to his mistress to sweat him after the manner of the Indians. She accordingly 16* r ^ ■' '1 'i *'i ii 186 TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ; OR, made a lodge just large enough for him to creep in. She then put in heated stones, and poured on water. After this had been continued the usual time, he came out a very handsome young man, but had not the power of speech. Meantime, the elder daughter had reached her father's, and told him of the manner in whicb her sister sup- ported a dog, treating him as her husband, and of the singular skill this animal had in hunting. The old man, suspecting there was some magic in it, sent a deputa- tion of young men and women to ask her to come to him, and bring her dog along. When this deputation arrived, they were surprised to find, in the place of the dog, so fine, a young man. They both accompanied the messengers to the father, who was no less astonished. He assembled all the old and wise men of the nation to see the exploits which, it was reported, the young man could perform. The giant was among the number. He took his pipe and filled it, and passed it to the Indians, to see if anything would happen when they smoked. It was passed aroimd to the dog, who made a sign to hand it to the giant first, which was done, but nothing affected. He then took it himself. He made a sign to them to put the white feather upon his head. This was done, and immediately he regained his speech. He then com- menced smoking, and behold I immense flocks of white and blue pigeons rushed from the smoke. The chief demanded of him his history, which he faithfully recounted. When it was finished, the chief ordered that the giant should be transformed into a dog, and turned into the middle of the vilhge, where the boys should pelt him to death with clubs. This sentence was executed. The chief then ordered, on the request of the White THE WHITE FEATHER. 187 ;p in. kvater. camo >t the tber's, r sup- of the dman, eputa- »me to itation of the panied nished. tion to )g man T. He adians, cd. It o hand ected. lem to done, n cora- white lich he e chief into a where This Feather, that all the young men should employ them- selves four days in making arrows, lie also asked for a buffalo robe. This robe he out Into thin shreds, and sowed in the prairie. At the end of the four days he invited them to gather together all their arrows, and ac- company him to a buffalo hunt. They found that these shreds of skin had grown into a very large herd of buffalo. They killed as many as they pleased, and enjoyed a grand festival, in honor of his triumph over the giants. Uaving accomplished their labor, the White Feather got his wife to ask her father's permission to go with him on a visit to his grandfather. He replied to this solicitation, that a woman must follow her husband into whatever quarter of the world he may choose to go. Tiie young men then placed the white feather in his froptlet, and, taking his war-club in his hand, led the way into the forest, followed by his faithful wife. White 'J i •fit ■1 I \ • • PAUGUK, AND THE MYTHOLOGICAL INTERPRETATION OF HIAWATHA. In a class of languages, where the personification of ideas, or sentiments, frequently compensates for the paucity of expression, it could hardly be expected that death should be omitted. The soul, or spirit, deemed to be an invisible essence, is denominated Ochichaug ; this is the term translators employ for the Holy Ghost. There is believed to be the spirit of a vital and per- sonal animus, distinct from this, to which they apply the term Jeebi or Ghost. Death, or the mythos of the condition of the human . frame, deprived of even the semblance of blood, and muscle, and life, is represented by the word Pauguk. Pauguk is a horrible phantom of human bones, without muscular tissue or voice, the appearance of which presages speedy dissolution. Of all the myths of the Indians, this is the most gloomy and fearful. ^ In strict accordance, however, with aboriginal tastes and notions, Pauguk is represented as a hunter. He is armed with a bow and arrows, or a pug-gamagan, or war-club. Instead of objects of the chase, men, women, and children are substituted us the objects of pursuit. To see him is indicative of death. Some accounts PAUGUK; INTERPRET^S'' \N OF HIAWATHA. 189 OF ation of for the ted that deemed ichaug ; f Ghost. ,nd per- sy apply )S of the IV en the [resented ihantom |oice, the m. Of lomy and lal tastes lie is kagan, or I, women, pursuit, laccounts ^VJ represent him as covered vviih a thin transparent skin, with the sockets of his eyes filled with balls of fire. Pauguk never speaks. Unlike the Jeebi or ghost, his limbs never assume the rotundity of life. Neither is he confounded in form with the numerous class of Monedoes, or of demons. He does not possess the power of metamorphosis, or of transforming himself into the shapes of animals. Unvaried in repulsive- ness, he is ever an olyect of fear ; but unlike every other kind or class of creation of the Indian mind, Pauguk never disguises himself, or aflfects the cunning of concealment — never effects to be what he is not. Manabozho alone had power to invoke him unharmed. When he had expended all his arts to overcome Paup-Puk-Keewiss, who could at will transform him- self, directly or indirectly, into any class or species of the animal creation, going often, as he did, as a jeebi, from one carcass into another, at last, at the final conflict at the rock, he dispatched him with the real power of death, after summoning the elements of thun- der and lightning to his aid. And when thus de- prived of all sublunary power, the enraged Great Hare, Manito (such seems the meaning of Manabozho), changed the dead carcass of his enemy into the great camew, or war eagle. Nothing had given Manabozho half the trouble and vexation of the flighty, defying, changeable and mischievous Paup-Puk-Keewiss, who eluded him by jumping from one end of the continent to the other. He had killed the great power of evil in the prince of serpents, who had destroyed Chebizbos his grnndson — he had survived the flood produced by the great Serpent, and overcome, in combat, the mysterious power held by the Pearl, or sea shell Feather, and the Mishemokwa, or great Bear with the wampum necklace, * •! n i ii 1 '■ k I I t- m 'I j'l , h 190 pauguk; and hut Paup-Puk-Kccwiss put him to the exercise of his reserved powers of death and annihilation. And it is by this act that we perceive that Hiawatha, or Mana- bozho, was a divinity. Manabozho had been a hunter, a fisherman, a warrior, a suppliant, a poor man, a starveling, a laup^hing stock and a mere beggar ; he now shows himself a god, and as such we must regard him as thtf prime Indian myth. This myth, the more it is examined, the more exten- sive does it appear to be incorporated in some shape in the Indian mythology. If interpreted agreeably to the metaphysical symbols of the old world, it would appear to be distilled from the same oriental symbolical cruci- ble, which produced an Osiris and a Typhon — for the American Typhon is represented by the Mishikinabik, or serpent, and the American Osiris by a Hiawatha, Manabozho, Micabo, or great Hare-God, or Ghost. This myth, as it is recognized under the name of Hiawatha by the Iroquois, is without the misadventures over which, in the person of Manabozho, the Algon- quins laugh so heartily, and the particular recitals of which, as given in prior pages, afford so much amuse- ment to their lodge circles. According to the Iroquois version, Tarenyawagon was deputed by the Master of Life, who is also called the Holder of Heaven, to the earth, the better to prepare it for the residence of man, and to teach the tribes the knowledge necessary to their condition, as well as to rid the land of giants and monsters. Having accomplished this be- nevolent labor, he laid aside his heavenly character and name, assuming that of Hiawatha ; took a wife, and settled in a beautiful part of the country. Hia- watha having set himself down to live as one of them, it was his care to hold up, at all times, the best exam- MYTHOLOGICAL INTERPUETATION OF HIAWATHA. 191 of his id it is Mana- mntcr, man, a ar ; lie regard extcn- hape in y to the [ appear al cruci- -for the kinabik, iawatha, }host. name of ventures Algon- ecitals of \ arause- Iroquois Vlaster of eaven, to idence of necessary land of this be- character )k a wife, ry. llia- of them, est exam- ples of prudential wisdom. All things, hard or won- drous, were possible for him to do, as in the case of the hero of the Algonquin legend, and he had, like him, a magic canoe to sail up and down the waters wherever he wished. Hiawatha, after he had performed the higher func- tions appertaining to his character, settled down in the Iroquois country, and was universally regarded as a sage. He instructed the tribes how to repel savage invaders, who were in the habit of scourging the country, and was ever ready to give them wise counsels. The chief things of these good counsels to the tribes were to at- tend to their proper vocation, as hunters and fishermen, to cultivate corn, and to cease dissensions and bickerings among themselves. lie finally instructed them to form a general league and confederacy against their common enemies. These maxims were enforced at a general council of the Iroquois tribe, held at Onondaga, which place became the seat of their council fire, and first government. This normal council of Iroquois sages resulted in placing the tribes in their assembled, not tribal capacity, under the care of a moderator, or chief magistrate of the assembled cantons, called Atatarho.* Tradition recites many particulars of the acts of Hiawatha. It is preserved in their recitals, that after his mission was virtually ended, or, rather, drawing to a close, how he proceeded, in great state, to the coun- cil, in his magic canoe, taking with him his favorite daughter. With her he landed on the shore of the lake of Onondaga, and was proceeding to the elevated- * Casio tolls us tliere wero thirti'on of those magistratos before America was discovered, litre mythology takes thy shape of historical tradition. V \ 192 pauguk; and grounds appointed for the council, when a remarkable phenomenon appeared in the heavens, which seemed, in its symbolical import, to say to Hiawatha : " Thy work is near its close." A white bird, the bird of Heaven, appeared to come as a special messenger to him and to his daughter, appearing as a small speck high in the higher atmosphere. As it descended and revealed its character, its flight was attended with the greatest swiftness and force, and with no little of the impetuosity of a stroke of lightning. To the dismay of all, it struck the daughter of Hiawatha with such force as to drive her remains into the earth, completely annihilating her. The bird itself was annihilated in annihilating Hiawatha's daughter. All that remained of it were its scattered white plumes, purely white as silver clouds, and these plumes the warriors eagerly gathered as the chief tokens, to be worn on their heads as symbols of their bravery in war — a custom maintained to this day. Hiawatha stood aghast. He did not know how to interpret the terrible token. He deeply mourned his daughter's fate ; for a long time he was inconsolable, and sat with his head down. But, in the end, and by per- suasion, he roused himself from his reverie. His thoughts revolved on his original mission to the Indian tribes. The Great Spirit perhaps tells me, he said to himself, that my work here below is finished, and I must return to him. For a while, he had not heeded the invitations to attend the largely gathered council which waited for him, but as soon as his grief would enable him to at- tend, he roused himself for the task. After tasting food, he assumed his usual manly dignity of character, and assumed the oritorical attitude. Waiting till the other speakers had finished, he addressed his last counsels to the listening tribes. By his wisdom and eloquent MYTUOLOaiCAL INTERPRETATION OF HIAWATHA. 193 appeal, he entranced them. By this valedictory ad- dress, replete with political wisdom, he closed his career. Having done this, he announced the termina- tion of his mission ; then, entering his magic canoe, he began to rise in the air— sweet strains of music were heard to arise as he mounted, and these could be heard till he was carried up beyond human sight. n m lENA, THE WANDERER, CB r.ii MAGIC BUNDLE. A CHIPPEWA ALLEGORY. II :.i There was once a poor man called lena,* who was in the habit of wandering about from place to place, forlorn, without relations and almost helpless. One day, as he went on a hunting excursion, he hung up his bundle on the branch of a tree, to relieve himself from the burden of carrying it, and then went in quest of game. On returning to the spot in the evening, he was surprised to find a small but neat lodge built in the place where he had left his bundle ; and on looking in, he beheld a beautiful female sitting in the lodge, with his blanket lying beside her. During the day he had been fortunate in killing a deer, which he had laid down at the lodge door. But, to his surprise, the woman, in her attempt to bring it in, broke both her legs. He looked at her with astonishment, and thought to himself, "I supposed I was blessed, but I find my mistake. Gweengweeshee,"f said he, "I will leave my game with you, that you may feast on it." * From lonawdizzi, a wanderer, t The night-hawk. ■I* lENA, THE wanderer; OR, MAGIC BUNDLE. 195 10 was in o place, s. One g up his elf from quest of ning, he It in the Dking in, ge, with V he had lid down oraan, in ^s. He himself, mistake, ime with lie then took up his bundle and departed. After walking some time he came to another tree, on which he suspended his bundle as before, and went in search of game. Success again rewarded his efforts, and he returned bringing a deer, but found, as before, that a lodge had sprung up in the place where he had sus- pended his bundle. He looked in, and saw, as before, a beautiful female sitting alone, with his bundle by her side. She arose, and came out to bring in the deer, which he had deposited at the door, and he immediately went into the lodge and sat by the fire, as he felt fatigued with the day's labors. Wondering, at last, at the delay of the woman, he arose, and peeping through the door of the lodge, beheld her eating all the fat of the deer. He exclaimed, "I thought I was blessed, but I find I am mistaken." Then addressing the woman, "Poor Wabizhas,"* said he, "feast on the game that I have brought." He again took up his bundle and departed, and as usual, hung it up on the branch of a tree, and wandered off in quest of game. In the evening he returned with his customary good luck, bringing in a fine deer, and again fouad a lodge occupying the place of his bundle. He gazed through an aperture in the side of the lodge, and saw a beautiful woman sitting alone, with a bundle by her side. As soon as he entered the lodge, she arose with alacrity, brought in the carcass, cut it up, and hung up the meat to dry. After this, she prepared a portion of it for the supper of the weary hunter. The man thought to him- self, "Now I am certainly blessed." He continued his practice of hunting every day, and the woman, on his return, always readily took cave of the meat, and pre- * A marten. 1 ''ill i ' %■<■' i 'i m 1^ 196 lENA, THE WANDERER; OR, pared his meals for him. One thing, however, aston- ished him ; he had never, as yet, seen her eat anything, and kindly said to her, "Why do you not eat?" She replied, " I have food of my own, which I eat." On the fourth day he brought home with him a b inch of uzadi* as a cane, which he placed, with his game, at the door of the lodge. His wife, as usual, went out to prepare and bring in the meat. While thus engaged, he heard her laughing to herself, and saying, " This is very acceptable." The man, in peeping out to see the cause of her joy, saw her, with astonishment, eating the bark of the poplar cane in the same manner that beavers gnaw. lie then exclaimed, "Ho, ho I Ho, ho 1 this is Amik ;""|" and ever afterward he was careful at evening to bring in a bough of the poplar or the red willow, when she would exclaim, " Oh, this is very acceptable ; this is a change, for one gets tired eating white fish always (meaning the poplar) ; but the carp (meaning the red willow) is a pleasant change." On the whole, lena was much pleased with his wife for her neatness and attention to the things in the lodge, and he lived a contented and happy man. Being industrious, she made him beautiful bags from the bark of trees, and dressed the skins of the animals he killed in the most skilful manner. When spring opened, they found themselves blessed with two children, one of them resembling the father and the other the mother. One day the father made a bow and arrows for the child that resembled him, who was a son, saying, "My son, yon will use these arrows to shoot at the little beavers when they begin to swim about the rivers." The mother, as * The common poplar, or P. tremuloides. t The beaver. Ml MAGIC BUNDLE. 197 soon as she heard this, was highly displeased; and taking her children, unknown to her husband, left the lodge in the night. A small river ran near the lodge, which the woman approached with her children. She built a dam across the stream, erected a lodge of earth, and lived after the manner of the beavers. When the hunter awoke, he found himself alone in his lodge, and his wife and children absent. He imme- diately made diligent search after them, and at last dis- covered their retreat on the river. He approached the place of their habitation, and throwing himself prostrate on the top of the lodge, exclaimed, "Shingisshenaun tshee neeboyaun. "* The woman allowed the children to go close to their father, but not to touch him ; for, as soon as they came very near, she would draw them away again, and in this manner she continued to tor- ment him a long time. The husband lay in this situa- tion until he was almost starved, when a young female approached him, and thus accosted him : " Look here ; why are you keeping yourself in misery, and thus starv- ing yourself? Eat this," reaching him a little mokuk containing fresh raspberries which she had just gath- ered. As soon as the beaveress, his former wife, beheld this, she began to abuse the young woman, and said to her, "Why do you wish to show any kindness to that animal that has but two legs? you will soon repent it." She also made sport of the young woman, saying, " Look at her; she has a long nose, and she is just like a bear." The young woman, who was all the time a bear in disguise, hearing herself thus reproached, broke- down the dam of the beaver, let the water run out, aiid hcarly killed the beaver herself. Then turning to the ■*Hero I will lie until I die. 17* I ! w Hi 198 lENA, THE WANDERER; OR, man, she thus addressed him : " Follow me ; I will be kind to you. Follow mo closely. You must be cou- rageous, for there are three persons who are desirous of marrying me, and will oppose you. Be careful of your- self. Follow me nimbly, and, just as we approach the lodge, put your feet in the prints of mine, for I have eight sisters who will do their utmost to divert your attention and make you lose the way. Look neither to the right nor the left, but enter the lodge just as I do, and take your seat where I do." As they proceeded they came in sight of a large lodge, when he did as he had been directed, stepping in her tracks. As they entered the lodge the eight sisters clamorously ad- dressed him. " Oh, Ogidahkumigo* has lost his way," and each one invited him to take his seat with her, desiring to draw him from their sister. The old people also addressed him as he entered, and said, " Oh, make room for our son-in-law." The man, however, took his seat by the side of his protectress, and was not farther importuned. As they sat in the lodge, a great rushing of waters, as of a swollen river, came through the centre of it, which also brought in its course a large stone, and left it before the man. When the water subsided, a large white bear came in, and taking up the stone, bit it, and scratched it with his paws, saying, "This is the manner in which I would handle Ogidahkumigo if I was jealous." A yellow bear also entered the lodge and did the same. A black bear followed and did the same. At length the man took up his bow and arrows, and prepared to shoot at the stone, saying, " This is the way I would * Tliis term means a man that lives on the surface of the earth, as contradistinguished from beings living underground. .3 I MAGIC BUNDLE. 199 treat Opanamekumigo* if I was jealous." lie then drew n\) his bow and drove his arrow into llio stone. Seeing this, the bears turned around, and with their eyes fixed on him, stepped backward and left tiie lodge, which highly delighted the woman. She exulted to think that her husband had conquered them. Finally, one of the old folks made a cry, and said, " Come, come I there must be a gathering of provisions for the winter." So they all took their cossoes, or bark dishes, and departed to gather acorns for the winter. As they departed, the old man said to his daughter, "Tell Ogidahkumigo to go to the place where your sisters have gone and let him select one of them, so that, through her aid, he may have some food for him- self during the winter; but be sure to caution him to be very careful, when he is taking the skin from the animal, that he does not cut the flesh." No sooner had the man heard this message, than he selected one of his sisters-in-law ; and when he was taking the skin from her, for she was all the while an enchanted female bear, although careful, he cut her a little upon one of her arms, when she jumped up, assumed her natural form, and ran home. The man also went home, and found her with her arm bound up, and quite unwell. A second cry was then made by the master of the lodge: "Come comel seek for winter quarters;" and they all got ready to separate for the season. By this time the man had two children, one resembling himself and the other his wife. When the cry was made, the little boy who resembled his father was in such a hurry in putting on his moccasons, that he misplaced them, putting the moccason of the right foot upon the left. * He who lives in the city under grouucl. I i hB i I I t : w 200 lENA, THE wanderer; OR, And this is the reason why the foot of the bear is turned in. They proceeded to seek their winter quarters, the wife going before to point the way. She always select- ed the thickest part of the forest, where the child re- sembling the father found it difficult to get along ; and he never failed to cry out and complain. lena then went in advance, and sought the open plain, whereupon the child resembling the mother would cry out and complain, because she disliked an open path. As they were encamping, the woman said to her husband, " Go and break branches for the lodge for the night." He did so ; bat when she looked at the manner in which her husband broke the branches, she was very much offended, for he broke them upward instead of down- ward. "It is not only very awkward," said she, "but we will be found out; for the Ogidahkuraigoes* will see where we have passed by the branches we have broken :" to avoid this, they agreed to change their route, and were finally well established in their winter quarters. The wife had sufficient food for her child, and would now and then give the dry berries she had gathered in the summer to her husband. One day, as spring drew on, she said to her husband, "I must boil you some meat," meaning her own paws, which bears suck in the month of April. She had all along told him, during the winter, that she meant to resume her real shai)e of a female bear, and to give herself up to the Ogiduhkumigoes, to be killed by them, and that the time of their coming was near at hand. It came to pass, soon afterward, that a hunter dis- covered her retreat. She told her husband to movo * Poople who live above ground. f i #* MAGIC BUNDLE^ 201 aside, "for," she added, "I am now giving myself up." The hunter fired and killed her. lena then came out from his hiding-place, and went home with the hunter. As they went, he instructed him what he must hereafter do when he killed bears. "You must," said he, "never cut the flesh in taking off the skin, nor hang up the feet with the flesh when drying it. But you must take the head and feet, and decorate them handsomely, and place tobacco on the head, for these animals are very fond of this article, and ou i\\Q fourth day they come to life again." MISIIOSIIA, OB THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUPERIOR. ! Hi •I' I I'' In an early age of the world, when there were fewer inhabitants than there now are, there lived an Indian, in a remote place, who had a wife and two children. They seldom saw any one out of the circle of their own lodge. Animals were abundant in so secluded a situa- tion, and the man found no difficulty in supplying his family with food. In this way they lived in peace and happiness, which might have continued if the hunter had not found cause to suspect his wife. She secretly cherished an attach- ment for a young man whom she accidentally met one day in the woods. She even planned the death of her husband for his sake, for she knew if she did not kill her husband, her husband, the moment he detected her crime, would kill her. The husband, however, eluded her project by his readiness and decision. He narrowly watchcrd her move- ments. One day he secretly followed her footsteps into the forest, and having concealed himself behind a tree, he soon beheld a tall young man approach and lead away his wife. Ilis arrows were in his hands, but he did not use them, lie thought he would kill her the moment she returned. misiiosiia; or, the macjician of lake slterior. 203 Meantime, he went home and sat down to think. At last he came to the determination of qnitting her for- ever, thinking that her own conscience would punish her sufficiently, and relying on her maternal feelings to take care of the two children, who were boys, he imme- diately took up his arms ind departed. When the wife returned she was disappointed in not finding her husband, for she had now concerted her plan, and intended to have dispatched him. She waited several days, thinking he might have been led away by the chase, but finding he did not return, she suspected the true cause. Leaving her two children in the lodge, she told them she was going a short distance and would return. She then fled to her paramour and came back no more. The children, thus abandoned, soon made way with the food left in the lodge, and were compelled to quit it in search of more. The eldest boy, who was of an intrepid temper, was strongly attached to his brother, frequently carrying him when he became weary, and gathering all the wild fruit he saw. They wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, losing all traces of their former habitation, until they were completely lost in its mazes. The eldest boy had a knife, with which he made a bow and arrows, and was thus enabled to kill a few birds for himself and l)rothcr. In this manner they continued to pass on, from one piece of forest to an- other, not knowing whither they were going. At length they saw an opening through the woods, and were shortly afterward delighted to find themselves on the borders of a large lake. Here the elder l)rother busied himself in picking the seed pods of tlie wild rose, which he reserved as food. In the meantime, the younger 1 jiiiifn Prl li ' ' r 1 1 ■i'' 'i li !i '4\ ' iliili 204 misiiosiia; or, brother amused himself by shooting arrows in the sand, one of which happened to fall into the lake. Panio- WUN,* the elder brother, not willing to lose the arrow, waded in the water to reach it. Just as he was about to grasp the arrow, a canoe passed up to him with great rapidity. An old man, sitting in the centre, seized the affrighted youth and placed him in the canoe. In vain the boy addressed him — " My grandfather (a term of respect for old people), pray take my little bro- ther also. Alone, I cannot go with you ; he will starve if I leave him." Mishosha (the old man) only laughed at him. Then uttering the charm, Chemaun Poll, and giving his canoe a slap, it glided through the water with inconceivable swiftness. In a few moments they reached the habitation of the magician, standing on an island in the centre of the lake. Here he lived with his two daughters, who managed the affairs of his house- hold. Leading the young man up to the lodge, he ad- dressed his eldest daughter. "Here," said he, "my daughter, I have brought a young man to be your hus- band." Husbandl thought the young woman ; rather another victim of your bad arts, and your insatiate en- mity to the human race. But she made no reply, seem- ing thereby to acquiesce in her father's will. The young man thought he saw surprise depicted in the eyes of the daughter, during the scene of this in- troduction, and determined to watch events narrowly. In the evening he overheard the two daughters in con- versation. " There," said the eldest daughter, "I told you he would not be satisfied with his last sacrifice. He has brought another victim, under the pretence of pro- viding me a husband. Husband, indeed I the poor Tho eud wing feather. THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUrERIOR. 205 sand, ANIG- irrow, about I with lentre, canoe, lier (a le bro- starve luglied Poll, e water ts they r on an ed with 5 house- he ad- e, "my ur hus- rather iate en- seem- ictcd in this in- Irrowly. lin con- Itold 3. He lof pro- le poor youth will be in some horrible predicament before ano- ther sun has set. When shall we be spared the scenes of vice and wickedness which are daily taking place before our eyes?" Panigwun took the first opportunity of acquainting the daughters how he had been carried off, and been compelled to leave his little brother on the shore. They told him to wait until their father was asleep, then to get up and take his canoe, and using the charm he had obtained, it would carry him quickly to his brother. That he could carry him food, prepare a lodge for him, and be back before daybreak. lie did, in every respect, as he had been directed — the canoe obeyed the charm, and carried him safely over, and after providing for the subsistence of his brother, he told hini that in a short time he should come for him. Then returning to the enchan- ted island, he resumed his place in the lodge, before the magician awoke. Once, during the night, Mishosha awoke, and not seeing his destined son-in-law, asked his daughter what had become of him. She replied that he had merely stepped out, and would be back soon. This satisfied him. In the morning, finding the young man in the lodge, his suspicions were com- pletely lulled. "I see, my daughter," said he, "you have told the truth." As soon as the sun arose, Mishosha thus addressed the young man. " Come, my son, I have a mind to gather gulls' eggs. I know an island where there nre great quantities, and I wish your aid in getting them." The young man saw no reasonable excuse; and getting into the canoe, the magician gave it a slap, and utter- ing a command, they wore in an instant at the island. They found the shores strown with gulls' eggs, and tiie island full of birds of this species. "Go, my son," said 18 i f f 206 MISIIOSHA; OR, 'li i the old man, "and gather the eggs, while I remain in the ca^ioi." But Panigvvun had no sooner got ashore, than Mish- osha pushed his canoe a little from the land, and ex- claimed — " Listen, ye gulls ! you have long expected an offering from me. I now give you a victim. Fly down and devour him." Then striking his canoe, he left the young man to his fate. The birds immediately came in clouds around their victim, darkening the air with their numbers. But the youth seizing the first that came near him, and drawing his knife, cut off its head. Jle immediately skinned the bird and hung the feathers as a trophy on his breast. "Thus," he exclaimed, "will I treat every one of you who approaches me. Forbear, therefore, and listen to my words. It is not for you to eat human flesh. You have been given by the Great Spirit as food for man. Neither is it in the power of that old magician to do you any good. Take me on your backs and carry me to his lodge, and you shall see that I am not ungrateful." The gulls obeyed ; collecting in a cloud for him to rest upon, and quickly flew to the lodge, where they arrived before the magician. The daughters were sur[)rised at his return, but Mishosha, on entering the lodge, con- ducted himself as if nothing extraordinary had taken I)lace. The next day he again addressed the youth: "Come, my son," said he, " I will take you to an island covered with the most beautiful stones and pebbles, looking like silver. I wish you to assist me in gathering some of them. They will mAke handsome ornaments, and pos- sess great medicinal virtues." Entering the canoe, the magician made use of his charm, and they were carried in u few moments to a solitary bay in an island, where THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUPERIOR. 207 there was a sraooth sandv beach. The vonnp; man went ashore as usual, and began to searcli. "A little further, a little further," cried the old nmn. "Upon that rock you will get some fine ones." Then pushing his canoe from land — "Come, thou great king of fishes," cried the old man ; "you have long expected an ofi\?ring from me. Come, and eat the stranger whom I have just put ashore on your island." So saying, he commanded his canoe to return, and it was soon out of sight. Immediately a monstrous fish thrust his long snout from the water, crawling partially on the beach, and opening wide his jaws to receive his victim. "When !" exclaimed the young man, drawing his knife and put- ting himself in a threatening attitude, "when did you ever taste human flesh ? Have a care of yourself. You were given by the Great Spirit to man, and if you, or any of your tribe eat human flesh you will fall sick and die. Listen not to the words of that wicked man, but carry me back to his island, in return for which I will present you a piece of red cloth." The fish complied, raising his back out of the water, to allow the young man to get on. Then taking his way through the lake, he landed his charge safely on the island before the re- turn of the magician. The daughters were still more surprised to see that he had escaped the arts of their father the second time. But the old man on his return maintained his taciturnity and self-composure. He could not, however, help saying to himself — "What manner of boy is this, who is ever escaping from my power? But his spirit shall not save him. I will entrap him to-morrow. Ha, ha, ha!" Next day the magician addressed the young man as follows: "Come, ni} son," said he, "you must go with me to procure some young eagles. I wish to tame iii i! jJM i 208 misiiosha; or, them. I have discovered an island where they are in great abundance." When they had reached the island, Mishosha led him inland until they came to the foot of a tall pine, upon which the nests were. "Now, my son," said he, "climb up this tree and bring down the birds." The young man obeyed. When he had with great difficulty got near the nest, "Now," exclaimed the magician, addressing the tree, "stretch yourself up and be very tall." The tree rose up at the command. "Listen, ye eagles," continued the old man, "you have long expected a gift from me, I now present you this boy, who has had the presumption to molest your young. Stretch forth your claws and seize him." So saying, he left the young man to his fate, and returned. But the intrepid youth, drawing his knife, and cut- ting off the head of the first eagle that menaced him, raised his voice and exclaimed, " Thus will I deal with all who come near me. What right have you, ye raven- ous birds, who were made to feed on beasts, to eat hu- man flesh ? Is it because that cowardly old canoe-man has bid you do so ? He is an old woman. IJe can neither do you good nor harm. See, I have already slain one of your number. Respect my bravery, and carry me back that I may show you how I shall treat you." The eagles, pleased with his spirit, assented, and clustering thick around him formed a seat with their backs, and flew toward the enchanted island. As they crossed the water they passed over the magician, lying half asleep in his canoe. The return of the young man was hailed with joy by the daughters, who now plainly saw that he was under the guidance of a strong spirit. But the ire of the old man was excited, although he kept his temper un- I THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUPERIOR. 209 der su1»jection. He taxed his wits for some new mode of ridding himself of the youth, who had so success- fully baffled his skill. He next invited him to go a hunting. Taking his canoe, they proceeded to an Island and built a lodge to shelter themselves during the night. In the mean while the magician caused a deep fall of snow, with a storm of wind and severe cold. Accord- ing to custom, the young man pulled off his moccasins and leggings, and hung them before the fire to dry. After he had gone to sleep, the magician, watching his opportunity, got up, and taking one moccasin and one legging, threw them into the fire. He then went to sleep. In the morning, stretching himself as he arose and uttering an exclamation of surprise, " My son," said he, " what has become of your moccasin and leg- ging ? I believe this is the moon in which fire attracts, and I fear they have been drawn in." The young man suspected the true cause of his loss, and rightly at- tributed it to a design of the magician to freeze him to death on the march. But he maintained the strictest silence, and drawing his conaus over his head, thus communed with himself: "I have full faith in the Manito who has preserved me thus far, I do not fear that he will forsake me In this cruel emergency. Great is his power, and I invoke it now that he may enable me to prevail over this wicked enemy of man- kind." He then drew on the remaining moccasin and legging, and taking a dead coal from the fireplace, invoked his spirit to give it efficacy, and blackened his foot and leg as far as the lost garment usually reached. He then got up and announced himself ready for the march. In vain Mishosha led him through snows and over mo- 18* 11 210 misiiosiia; or, % ■ :;!' ": ■ ;' rasses, hoping to see the lad sink at every moment. But in this he was disappointed, and for the first time tliey returned home together. Taking courage from this success, the young man now determined to try his own power, having previously consulted with the daughters. They all agreed that the life the old man led was detestable, and that who- ever would rid the world of him, would entitle himself to the thanks of the human race. On the following day the young man thus addressed his hoary captor: " My grandfather, I have often gone with you on perilous excursions, and never murmured. I must now request that you will accompany me. I wish to visit my little brother, and to bring him home with me." They accordingly went on a visit to the main land, and found the little lad in the spot where he had been left. After taking him into the canoe, the young man again addressed the magician: "My grand- father, will you go and cut me a few of those red willows on the bank, I wish to prepare some smoking mixture." " Certainly, my son," replied the old man; "what you wish is not very hard. Ha, ha, ha I do you think me too old to get up there ?" No sooner was Mishosha ashore, than the young man, placing himself in the proper position struck the canoe with his hand, and pronouncing the charm, N'chimaun Poll, the canoe immediately flew through the water on its return to the island. It was evening when the two brothers arrived, and carried the canoe ashore. But the elder daughter informed the young man that unless he sat up and watched the canoe, and kept his hand upon it, such was the power of their father, it would slip oflf and re- turn to him. Panigwun watched faithfully till near the dawn of day, when he could no longer resist the drow- THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUrERIOR. 211 siness which oppressed him, and he fell into a short doze. In the mean time, the canoe slipped off and sought its master, who soon returned in high glee. " Ila, ha, ha 1 my son," said he ; "you thought to play me a trick. It was very clever. But you see I am too old for you." A sliort time after, the youth again addressed the magician. " My grandfather, I wish to try my skill in hunting. It is said there is plenty of game on an island not far off, and I have to request that you will take me there in your canoe." They accordingly went to the island and spent the day in hunting. Night coming on they put up a temporary lodge. When the magician had sunk into a profound sleep, the young man got up, and taking one of Mishosha's leggings and moccasins from the place where they hung, threw them into the fire, thus retaliating the artifice before played upon himself. He had discovered that the foot and leg were the only vulnerable parts of the magician's body. Having committed these articles to the fire, he besought his Manito that he would raise a great storm of snow, wind, and hail, and then laid himself down beside the old man. Consternation was depicted on the countenance of the latter, when he awoke in the morning and found his moccasin and legging missing. ** I believe, my grandfather," said the young man, " that this is the moon in which fire attracts, and I fear your foot and leg garments have been drawn in." Then rising and bidding the old man follow him, he began the morning's hunt, frequently turning to see how Mis- hosha kept up. He saw him faltering at every step, and almost benumbed with cold, but encouraged him to follow, saying, we shall soon get through and reach the shore ; although he took pains, at the same time, to lead him in roundabout ways, so as to let the frost take i1 i Ki'i; 4; ■'i 1 m , 1 1 1 I 1 212 mtsiiosiia; or, the magician of lake superior. complete effect. At length the old man reached the brink of the island where the woods are succeeded by a border of smooth sand. But he could go no farther ; his legs became stiff and refused motion, and he found himself fixed to the spot. But he still kept stretching out his arms and swinging his body to and fro. Every moment he found the numbness creeping higher. He felt his legs growing downward like roots, the feathers of his head turned to leaves, and in a few seconds he stood a tall and stiff sycamore, leaning toward the water. Panigwun leaped into the canoe, and pronouncing the charm, was soon transported to the island, where he related his victory to the daughters. They ap- plauded the deed, agreed to put on mortal shapes, become wives to the two young men, and forever quit the enchanted island. And passing immediately over to the main land, they lived lives of happiness and peace. PEETA KWAY, THE FOAM-WOMAN. AN OTTOWA LEGEND. There once lived a woman called Moiiedo Kway* on the sand monntaiiis called " the Sleeping Bear," of Lake Michigan, who had a daughter as beautiful as she was modest and discreet. Everybody spoke of the beauty of this daughter. She was so handsome that her mother feared she would be carried off, and to pre- vent it she put her in a box on the lake, which was tied by a long string to a stake on the shore. Every morn- ing the mother pulled the box ashore, and combed her daughter's long, shining hair, gave her food, and then put her out again on the lake. One day a handsome young man chanced to come to the spot at the moment she was receiving her morn- ing's attentions from her mother. He was struck with her beauty, and immediately went home and told his feelings to his uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician. " My nephew," replied the old man, " go to the mother's lodge, and sit down in a modest manner, without saying a word. You need not ask her the question. But whatever you think she will understand, and what she thinks in answer you will also * Female spirit or prophetess. I! I If I t: 214 PEETA KWAY; understand." The young man did so. He sat down, with his head dropped in a thoughtful manner, without uttering a word. lie then thought, " I wish she would give me her daughter." Very soon he understood the mother's thoughts in reply. " Give you my daughter ?" thought she; "you/ No, indeed, my daughter shall never marry i/ou." The young man went away and reported the result to his uncle. " Woman without good sense;" said he, " who is she keeping her daugh- ter for ? Does she think she will marry the Mudjike- wis ?* Proud heart I we will try her magic skill, and see whether she can withstand our power." The pride and haughtiness of the mother was talked of by the spirits living on that part of the lake. They met together and determined to exert their power in hum- bling her. For this purpose they resolved to raise a great storm on the lake. The water began to toss and roar, and the tempest became so severe, that the string broke, and the box floated off through the straits down Lake Huron, and struck against the sandy shores at its outlet. The place where it struck was near the lodge of a superannuated old spirit called Ishkwon Daimeka, or the keeper of the gate of the lakes. He opened the box and let out the beautiful daughter, took her into his lodge, and married her. When the mother found that her daughter had been blown off by the storm, she raised very loud cries and lamented exceedingly. Thi? she continued to do for a long time, and vvouM not be comforted. At length, after two or three years, the spirits had pity on her, and determined to raise another storm and bring her * A torm indicative of the heir or successor to the lirst place in powiM*. )1 THE FOAM-WOMAN. 215 back. It was even a greater storm than the first ; and when it began to wash away the ground and encroach on the lodge of Ishkvvon Daimeka, she leaped into the box, and the waves carried her back to the very spot of her mother's lodge on the shore. Monedo Equa was overjoyed ; but when she opened the box, she found that her daughter's beauty had almost all departed. However, she loved her still because she was her daugh- ter, and now thought of the young man who had made her the offer of marriage. She sent a formal message to him, but he had altered his mind, for he knew that she had been the wife of another : " / marry your daughter ?" said he ; " your daughter I No, indeed 1 I shall never marry her." The storm that brought her back was so strong and powerful, that it tore away a large part of the shore of the lake, and swept off Ishkwon Daimeka's lodge, the fragments of which, lodging in the straits, formed those beautiful islands which are scattered in the St. Clair and Detroit rivers. The old man himself was drowned, and his bones are buried under them. Tliey heard him singing his songs of lamentation as he was driven oft' on a portion of his lodge ; as if he had been called to testify his bravery and sing his war song at the stake. I rido tho waters like tlio winds ; Is'o storms can blciah iny hoart. PAII-HAH-UNDOOTAII, THE RED HEAD. A DACOTAH LEGEND. h As spring approaches, the Indians return from their wintering grounds to their villages, engage in feasting, soon exhaust their stock of provisions, and begin to suffer for the want of food. Such of the hunters as are of an active and enterprising cast of character, take the occasion to separate from the mass of the population, and remove to some neighboring locality in the forest, which promises the means of subsistence during this season of general lassitude and enjoyment. Among the families who thus separated themselves, on a certain occasion, there was a man called Odsiie- DOPii Wauciieentongaii, or the Child of Strong De- sires, who had a wife and one son. After a day's travel he reached an ample wood with his family, which was thought to be a suitable place to encamp. The wife fixed the lodge, while the husband went out to hunt. Early in the evening he returned with a deer. Being tired and thirsty he asked his son to go to the river for some water. The son replied that it was dark and ho was afraid. lie urged him to go, saying that his mother, as well as himself, was tired, and tlu; distance to the water was very short. But no i)ersuasion was of PAII-IIAII-UNDOOTAII; THE RED HEAD. 217 any avail. He refused to go. "All, my son," said the father, at last, ''if you are afraid to go t( the river, you will never kill the Red Head." The boy was deeply mortified by this observation. It seemed to call up all his latent energies. He mused in silence. He refused to eat, and made no reply when spoken to. The next day he asked his mother to dress the skin of the deer, and make it into moccasins for him, while he busied himself in preparing a bow and arrows. As soon as these things were done, he left the lodge one morning at sunrise, without saying a word to his father or mother. He fired one of his arrows into the air, which fell westward. He took that course, and at night coming to the spot where the arrow had fallen, was rejoiced to find it piercing the heart of a deer. He refreshed himself with a meal of the venison, and the next morning fired another arrow. After travelling all day, he found it also in another deer. In this manner he fired four arrows, and every evening found that ho had killed a deer. What was very singular, however, was, that he left the arrows sticking in the carcasses, and passed on without withdrawing them. In conse- quence of this, he had no arrow for the fifth day, and was in great distress at night for the want of food. At last he threw himself upon the ground in despair, con- cluding that he might as well perish there as go further. IJut he had not lain long before he heard a hollow, rumbling noise, in the ground beneath him. He sprang up, and discovered at a distance the figure of a human being, walking with a stick. He looked attentively and saw that the figure was walking in a wide beaten |)ath, in a pniiric, leading from a lodge to a lake. To his surprise, tin's hxigo was at no great distance. Ho 10 '•3T?' 218 rAll-HAIl-UNl>OOTAII ; approached a little nearer and concealed himself. Jfe soon discovered that the figure was no other than tluit of the terrible witch, Wok-on-kaiitoun-zooeyah-pee- KAir-iiAiTciiEE, or the little old woman who makes war. Her path to the lake was perfectly smooth and solid, and the noise our adventurer had heard, was caused by the striking of her walking staff upon the ground. The top of this staff was decorated with a string of the toes and bills of birds of every kind, who at every stroke of the stick, fluttered and sung their various notes in con- cert. She entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, which was entirely composed of the scalps of women. Before folding it, she shook it several times, and at every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of laughter, in which the old hag joined. Nothing could have frightened him more than this horrific exhibition. After laying by the cloak she came directly to him. She informed him that she had known him from the time he left his father's lodge, and watched his movements. She told him not to fear or despair, for she would be his friend and pro- tector. She invited him into her lodge, and gave him a supper. During the repast, she inquired of him his motives for visiting her. He related his history, stated the manner in which he had been disgraced, and the difficulties he labored under. Slie cheered him with the assurance of her friendship, and told him he would be a brave man yet. She then commenced the exercise of her power upon him. His hair being very short, she took a large leaden comb, and after drawing it through his hair several times, it became of a handsome feminine length. She then ))roceeded to dress him ns a fenuile, furnishing him with the necessary ganneiits, and decorated his faco THE RED HEAD. 219 with paints of the most beautiful dye. She gave him a bowl of sliiuing metal. She directed him to put in his j^inlle a blade of scented sword-f^rass, and to proceed the next morning to the banks of the lake, which was no other than that over which the Red Head reigned. Now PAii-iiAn-UNDOOTAii, or the Red Head, was a most powerful sorcerer and the terror of all the country, living upon an island in the centre of the lake. She informed him that there would be many Indians on the island, who, as soon as they saw him use the shining l)owl to drink with, would come and solicit him to be their wife, and to take him over to the island. These offers he was to refuse, and say that he had come a great distance to be the wife of the Red Head, and that if the chief could not come for her in his own canoe, she should return to her village. She said that as soon as the Red Head heard of this, he would come for her in his own canoe, in which she must embark. On reaching the island he must consent to be his wife, and in the evening induce him to take a walk out of the village, when lie was to take the lirst opportunity to cut olf his head with the blade of grass. She also gave him general advice how he was to conduct himself to sustain his assumed character of a woman. His fear would scarcely permit him to accede to this plan, but the recollection of his father's words and looks decided him. Early in the morning, he left the witch's lodge, and took the hard beaten i)alh to the banks of the lake. He reached the water at a ])oint directly opposite the Red Head's village. It was a beautiful day. The heavens were clear, and the sun shone out in the greatest elVnlgence. He hud not been long there, having sauntered along the beach, when he displayed ^rw 220 PAII-IIAH-UNDOOTAII ; : the flittering: bowl, by dip))ino; water from the lake. Very soon a number of canoes came oft' from the island. The men admired his dress, and were charmed with his beauty, and a great number made proposals of marriage. These he promptly declined, agreeably to the concerted plan. When the facts were reported to the Red Head, he ordered his canoe to be put in the water by his chosen men, and crossed over to see this wonderful girl. As he came near the shore, he saw that the ribs of the sorcerer's canoe were formed of living rattle- snakes, whose heads pointed outward to guard him from enemies. Our adventurer had no sooner stepped into the canoe than they began to hiss and rattle, which put him in a great fright. But the magician spoke to them, after which they became pacified and quiet, and al! at once they were at the landing upon the island. The marriage immediately took place, and the bride made presents of various valuables which had been furnished by the old witch. As they were sitting in the lodge surrounded by friends and relatives, the mother of the lied Head regarded the face of her new daughter-in-law for a. long time with fixed attention. From this scrutiny she was convinced that this singular and hasty marriage augured no good to her son. She drew her husband aside and disclosed to him her suspicions: "This can be no female," said she ; "the figure and manners, the countenance, and more especially the expression of the eyes, are, beyond a doubt, those of a man." Her husband immediately rejected her suspicions, and rebuked her severely for the indignity offered to her daughter-in-law. He be- came so angry, that seizing the iirst thing that came to hand, which happened to be his pipe stem, Iv beat her unmercifully. This act requiring to be explained to THE RED HEAD. 221 the spectators, the mock bride immediately rose np, and assuming an air of offended dignity, told the Red Head that after receiving so gross an insult from his relatives he could not think of remaining with him as his wife, but should forthwith return to his village and friends. He left the lodge followed by the Red Head, and walked until he came upon the beach of the island, near the spot where they had first landed. Red Head entreated him to remain. He pressed him by every motive which he thought might have weight, but they were all re- jected. During this conference they had seated them- selves upon the ground, and Red Head, in great afflic- tion, reclined his head upon his fancied wife's lap. This was the opportunity ardently sought for, and it was improved to the best advantage. Every means was taken to lull him to sleep, and partly by a sooth- ing manner, and partly by a seeming compliance with his request, the object was at last attained. Red Head fell into a sound sleep. Our aspirant for the glory of a brave man then drew his blade of grass, and draw- ing it once across the neck of the Red Head completely severed the head from the body. He immediately stripped off his dress, seized the bleeding head, and plunging into the lake, swam safely over to the main shore. He had scarcely reached it, when, looking back, he saw amid the darkness the torches of persons come out in search of the new-mar- ried couple. He listened till they had found the head- less body, and he heard their piercing shrieks of sor- row, as he took his way to the lodge of his kind ad- viser. She received him with rejoicing. She admired his prudence, and told him his bravery could never be ques- Lifting up the head, she said he need ID* tioncd again. 222 rAII-IIAII-UNDOOTAH; THE RED HEAD. I only have l)rou ! I \ 240 THE SUN catcher; or, but try ap:aiii the next day. She accordingly left him at the place she got wood, and returned. Towards niglitfall, she heard his little footsteps on the snow, and he came in cxultingly, and threw down one of the birds which he had killed. " My sister," said he, " I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more, I will have a coat made out of them." " But what shall we do with the body ?" said she, for as yet men had not begun to eat animal food, but lived on vegetables alone. "Cut it in two," he answered, " and season our pottage with one half of it at a time." She did so. The boy, who was of a very small stature, continued his efforts, and succeeded in killing ten birds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. " Sister," said he one day, " are we all alone in the world ? Is there nobody else living ?" She told him that those they feared and who had destroyed their re- latives lived in a certain quarter, and that he must by no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his curiosity and raise his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and arrows and went in that direction. After walking a long time and meeting no- thing, he became tired, and lay down on a knoll, where the sun had melted the snow. He fell fast asleep ; and while sleeping, the sun beat so hot upon him, that it singed and drew up his bird- skin coat, so that when he awoke and stretched himself, he felt bound in it, as it were. He looked down and saw the damage done to his coat. He flew into a passion, and upbraided the sun, and vowed vengeance against it. " Do not think you are too high," said he, "I shall revenge myself." On coming home, he related his disaster to his sis- ter, and lamented bitterly the spoiling of his coat. He BOY WHO SET A SNARE FOIl THE SUN. 241 r left him Towards now, and the birds "I wish n I have )f them." d she, for but lived answered, ,t a time." ill stature, ten birds, m a little one in the 3 told him id their re- tie must by J served to on, and he 3nt in that neeting no- moll, where isleep; and him, that it lat when he 1 in it, as it age done to 3braided the >o not think ;e myself." r to his sis- lis coat. He would not eat. lie lay down as one that fasts, and did not stir, or move his i)osition for ten days, though she tried all she could to arouse him. At the end of ten days, he turned over, and then lay ten days on the other side. When he got up, he told his sister to make him a snare, for he meant to catch the sun. She said she had nothing ; but finally recollected a little piece of dried deer's sinew, that her father had left, which she soon made into a string suitable for a noose. But the moment she showed it to him, he told her it would not do, and bid her get something else. She said she had nothing — nothing at all. At last she thought of her hair, and pulling some of it out of her head, made a string. But he instantly said it would not answer, and bid her, pettishly, and with authority, make him n, noose. She told him there was nothing to make it of, and went out of the lodge. She said to herself, when she had got without the lodge, and while she was all alone, "neow obewy indapin." From my body, some will I take. This she did, and twisting them into a tiny cord, she handed it to her brother. The moment he saw this curious braid, he was delighted. " This will do," he said, and immediately put it to his mouth and began pulling it through his lips ; and as fast as he drew it changed it into a red metal cord, which he wound around his body and shoulders, till he had a large quantity. He then prepared himself, and ^^^t out a little after midnight, that he might catch the bu:- be- fore it rose. He fixed his snare on a spot just where the sun would strike the land, as it rose above the earth's disk; and sure enough, he caughu ihe sun, so that it was held fast in the cord, and did not rise. " The animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into a great commotion. They had no light. They 21 \\ I , 24ii THE SUN catcher; or, boy who set a snare, etc. called a council to debate upon the matter, and to ap- point some one to go and cut the cord — for this was a very hazardous enterprise, as the rays of the sun would burn whoever came so near to them. At last the dormouse undertook it — for at this time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When it stood up it looked like a mountain. When it got to the place where the sun was snared, its back began to smoke and burn with the intensity of the heat, and the top of its carcass was reduced to enormous heaps of ashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with its teeth, and freeing the sun, but it was reduced to a very small size, and has remained so ever since. Men call it the Kug-e-been-gwa-kwa — the blind woman. i HE, ETC. to ap- is was a n would last the ormouse it stood :he place loke and op of its ;hes. It its teeth, ery small lall it the m 3 AVA-WA-BE-ZO-WIX, OR THE SWIXG ox THE PICTL'RED ROCKS OF LAKE SLPEllIOll. A TRADITION OF THE ODJIBWAS. There was an old hag of a woman living with her da\ighter-in-hi\v, and son, and a little or[)han boy, whom she •h home e was l)nnging up. vviien ner son-in-iaw came from hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife the moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of dill'erent animals. These she would cook crisp, so as to make a sound with her teeth in eating them. Tliis kind attention of the hunter to his wife at last excited the envy of the old woman. Siie wished to have the same luxuries, and in order to get them she limilly resolved to make way with her son's wife. One (lav, she asked her to leave her infant son to the care of the or|)hi»n boy, and come out and swing with her. She took her to the shore of a lake, where there was a high range of rocks overhanging the water. Upon the top of this rock, she erected a swing. She then un- dressed, and fastened a piece of leather around her body, and connnenced swinging, going over the preci- pice at every swing. Siie continued it but a short linjc, when she told her danuhter to do the same. The 244 wa-wa-be-zo-win; or, 1^ I ■ ' I ki P daughter obeyed. Slie undressed, and tying the leather strhig as she was directed, began swinging. When the swing liad got in full motion and well a going, so that it went clear beyond the precipice at every sweep, the old woman slyly cut the cords and let her daughter drop into the lake. She then put on her daughter's clothing, and thus disguised went home in the dusk of the evening and counterfeited her appearance and duties. She found the child crying, and gave it the breast, but it would not draw. The orphan boy asked her where its mother was. She answered, " She is still swinging." He said, " I shall go and look for her." "No 1" said she, "you must not — what should you go for?" When the husband came in, in the evening, he gave the covet- ed morsel to his supposed wife, lie missed his mother- in-law, but said nothing. She eagerly ate the dainty, and tried to keep the child still. The husband looked rather astonished to see his wife studiously averting her face, and asked her why the child cried so. She said, she did not know — that it would not draw. In the mean time, the orphan boy went to the lake shores, and found no one. He mentioned his suspicions, and while the old woman was out getting wood, he told him all he had heard or seen. The man then painted his face black, and placed his spear upside down in the earth, and recpicsled the Great Spirit to send lightning, thunder, and rain, in the hope that the body of his wife might arise from the water. He then began to fast, and told the boy to take the cl Id and play on the lake shore. We must now go back to the swing. After the wife had plunged into the lake, she found herself taken hold of by a water-tiger, whose tall twisted itself round her body, and drew her to tlie bottom. There she found a SWING ON THE nCTURED ROCKS OF LAKE SUPERIOR. 245 fine lodge, and all things ready for lier reception, and she became the wife of the water-tiger. Whilst the children were playing along the shore, and the boy was casting pebbles into the lake, he saw a gull coming from its centre, and flying towards the shore, and when on shore, the bird immediately assumed the human shape. When he looked again, he recognized the lost mother. She had a leather belt around her loins, and an- other belt of white metal, which was, in reality, the tail of the water-tiger, her husband. She suckled the babe, and said to the boy — "Come herewith him, whenever he cries, and I will nurse him." The boy carried the child home, and told these things to the father. When the .?hild again cried, the father went also with the boy to the lake shore, and hid him- self in a clump of trees. Soon the appearance of a gull was seen, with a long shining belt, or chain, and as soon as it came to the shore, it assumed the mother's shape, and she began to suckle the child. The husband had brought along his spear, and seeing the shining chain, he boldly struck it and broke the links apart. lie then took his wife and child home, with the or[)han boy. When they entered the lodge, the old woman looked u|), but it was a look of despair ; she instantly dropi)od her head. A rustling was heard in the lodge, and tiie next moment she lea[)e(l up and (lew out of the loiige, and was never heard of more. 21* i \\ MUKAKEE MINDEMOEA, If OR THE TOAD-WOMAN AN OD.IIBWA LEGEND. )t P ^ »i I i s Great good luck once happened to a young woman who was living all alone in the woods, with nobody near her but her little dog, for, to her surprise, she found fresh meat every morning at her door. She felt very anxious to know who it was that supplied her, and watching one morning, very early, she saw a handsome young man deposit the meat. After his being seen by her, he became her husband, and she had a son by him. One day, not long after this, the man did not return at evening, as usual, from hunting. She waited till late at night, but all in vain. Next day she swung her baby to sleep in its tiken;igun, or cradle, and then said to her dog : " Take care of your brother whilst I am gone, and when he cries, halloo for me." Tiie cradle was made of the Guest wampum, and all its bandages and decorations v/ere of tlie same costly material. After a short time, the woman heard the cry of her faithful dog, and run- ning home as fast as she could, she found her child gone and the dog too. I5ut on looking round, she saw pieces of the wiim[)um of her child's cradh; bit oif by the dog, who strov(» to retain the child and prevent his being i MUIvAKEE MINDEMOEA; OK, THE TOAD-WUMAN. 2-t7 ..K- M liSF carried olF by an old woman called Mukakee Minde- moea, or the Toad- Woman. The mother followed at full si)ecd, and occasionally came to lodj:^es inhabited by old women, who told her at what time the thief had passed ; they also gave her shoes, that she might follow on. There were a numher of these old women, who seemed as if they were all prophetesses. Each of them would say to her, that when she arrived in pursuit of lier stolen child at the next lodge, she must set the toes of the moccasins they had loaned her pointing home- wards, and they would return of themselves. She would get others from her entertainers further on, who would also give her directions how to proceed to re- cover her son. She thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to valley, and stream to stream, for nionths and years ; when she came, at length, to the lodge of the last of the friendly old Xococs, or grandmothers, as they were called, who gave her final instructions how to proceed. She told her she was near the place where her son was, and directed her to build a lodge of shin- goob, or cedar boughs, near the old Toad-Woman's lodge, and to make a little bark dish and squeeze her milk into it. " Then," she said, " your first child (mean- ing the dog) will come and find you out." She did accordingly, and in a short time she heard her son, now grown, going out to hunt, witli his dog, calling out to him, ** Moncdo Pewaubik (that is, Steel or Spirit Iron), Twee ! Twee !" She then set ready the dish and filled it with her milk. The dog soon scented it and camo into the lodge ; she i)laced it before him. " See, my child," said she, addressing him, "the food you used to luive from me, your mother." The dog went and told his young master that lie had found his real mother; itiid informed him tlmt llic nM WMiii;n), whom he <•////<•nn coiiipoundecl from sIu'c(jon-isi^, a widow, aiul mnirlijh, Homotliiug nasty. THE TOAD-WOMAN. 249 H slic asked what she coiiUl do for him. He said nothing would do him good, but the sight of liis cradle. She ran immediately a!id got a cedar cradle ; but he said " That is not my cradle." She went and irot one of her own children's cradles (for she had four), but he turned his head and said, " That is not mine." She then produced the real cradle, and he saw it was the same, in substance, with the pieces the other had shown him ; and he was convinced, for he could even see the marks of the dog's teeth upon it. He soon got well, and went out hunting, and killed a fat bear. lie and his dog-brother then stripped a tall pine of all its branches, and stuck the carcass on the top, taking the usual sign of his having killed an animal — the tongue. He told the Toad-Woman where he had left it, saying, " It is very far, even to the end of the earth." She answered, "It is not so far but I can get it ;" so off she set. A soon as she was gone, the young man and his dog killed the Toad-Woman's children, and staked them on each side of the door, with a piece of fat in their mouths, and then went to his real mother and hastened her departure with them. The Toad-Woman spent a long time in flnding thebear, and had much ado in climbing the tree to get down the carcass. As she got near home, she saw the children looking out, a[)parently, with the fat i'l their mouths, and was angry at them, saying, "Why do you destroy the i)omatum of your brother ?" But her fury was great indeed, when she saw they were killed and impaled. She ran after the fugitives as fast as she could, and was near overtaking them, when the young man said, " We are pressed hard, but let this stay her progress," throw- ing his lire steel behind him, which caused the Toad- Woman to slip and fall repeatedly. IJut still she pur- r f (» 250 MUKAKEE MINDEMOEA ; OR, THE TOAD- WOMAN. sued and p:alned on them, wlien he threw behind him liis Hint, which attain retarded her, for it made her slip and stumble, so that her knees were bleeding ; but she continued to follow on, and was j^aininp^ ground, when the young man said, " Let the Oshau shaw f;o min un (snake berry) spring up to detain her," and immedi- ately these berries spread like scarlet all over the path for a long distance, which she could not avoid stoo[)ing down to pick and eat. Still she went on, and was again advancing on them, when the young man at last said to the dog, " Brother, chew her into mummy, for she plagues us." So the dog, turning round, seized her and tore her to pieces, and they escaped. . ^ MAN. nd Uira lier slip but slie d, when min un immedi- tlie path stooping and was in at last mniv, for ,d, seized ERONENIEUA, OB AN INDIAN VISIT TO THE GREAT SPIRIT.* AX ALGONQUIN LEGEND. A Delaware Indian, called Eroncniera, anxious to know the Master of Life, resolved, without mentioninj^ his design to any one, to undertake a journey to Para- dise, which he knew to be God's residence. 13ut, to succeed in his project, it was necessary for him to know the way to the celestial regions. Not knowing any person who, having been there himself, might aid him in finding tlie road, he commenced juggling, in the hope of drawing a good augury from his dream. The Indian, in his dream, imagined that he had only to commence his journey, and that a continued walk would take him to the celestial abode. The next morn- ing very early, he ecpiipped himself as a hunter, taking a gun, powder-horn, ammunition, and a boiler to cook his provisions. The first part of his journey was pretty favorable ; he walked a long time without being dis- * Pontiac told this story to tlio nssoml»l(vl Indians in 17<>'^, to enlist tlioni in liis j>lan to rosist the transfer of tlir country to the Kn^lish authority, on the fall of the French power in tlie Canada.s. 252 eronemeha; or, I » courai^cd, liavinj^ always a firm conviction that ho sliouhl attain his aim. Ei^ht chip's liad already elapsed without his meeting with any one to oppose his desire. On the evenin*]^ of the ei lowed it for the same space of time as he had the first, he perceived a similar spectacle. His fright, which liad been lulled by the change of road, awoke him, and he was obliged to take the third path, in which he walked a whole day without seeing anything. All at once, a mountain of a marvellous whiteness burst upon his sight. This filled him with astonishment; nevertheless, he took courage and advanced to examine it. Having arrived at the foot, he saw no signs of a road. He beca le very sad, not knowing how to continue his journey. In this conjuncture, he looked on all sides and ])erceived a female seated upon the mountain ; lier beaiity was daz- zling, and llie whiteness of her garments surpassed that of snow. The woman said to hira in his own language, "You appear surprised to find no longer a path to reach your wishes. I know that you have for a long time longed to sec and speak to the Master of Life ; and that you have undertaken this journey purposely to see him. The way which leads to bis abode is upon this mountain. To ascend it, you must undress your- self completely, and leave all your accoutrements and clothing at the foot. No person shall injure them. You will then go and wash yourself in the river which I am now showing you, and afterward ascend the moun- tain." The Indian obeyed punctually the woman's words ; but one difliculty remained. How could he arrive at the top of the mountain, which was steep, without a path, and as smooth as glass ? He asked the woman how he was to accomplish it. She replied, that if he really wished to see the Master of Life, he must, in mounting, only use his left hand and foot. This ap- peared almost impossible to the Indian. Encouraged, however, by the female, he commenced ascending, and 22 254 eroneniera; or, if i i4i ' I > ,tj i \ I succeeded after imicli trouble. Wlien at tlie top, he was astonished to see no ])erson, tlie woman having disappeared. lie found lumself alone, and without a guide. Three unknown villages were in sight; they were constructed on a different plan from his own, much handsomer, and more regular. After a few mo- ments' reflection, he took his way towards the hand- somest. When about half way from the top of the mountain, he recollected that he was naked, and was afraid to proceed; but a voice told him to advance, and have no apprehensions ; that, as he had washed himself, he might walk in confidence. He proceeded without hesitation to a place which appeared to be the gate of the village, and stopped until some one came to open it. While he was considering the exterior of the vil- lage, the gate opened, and the Indian saw coming towards him a handsome man dressed all in white, who took him by the hand, and said he was going to satisfy his wishes by leading him to the presence of the Mas- ter of Life. The Indian suffered himself to be conducted, and they arrived at a place of unequalled beauty. The In- dian was lost in admiration. He there saw the Master of life, who took him by the hand, and gave him for a seat a hat bordered with gold. The Indian, afraid of spoiling the hat, hesitated to sit down; but, being again ordered to do so, he obeyed without reply. The Indian being seated, God said to him, "I am the Master of Life, whom thou wishest to see, and to whom thou wishest to speak. Listen to that which I will tell thee for thyself and for all the Indians. I am the Maker of Heaven and earth, the trees, lakes, rivers, men, and all that thou seest or hast seen on the earth or in the heavens; and because I love you, you AN INDIAN VISIT TO THE GREAT SPIRIT. 255 at tlie top, hi: voman having and without a in sight; they from his own, iter a few mo- Tds the hand- he top of the akcd, and was 3 advance, and ashed himself, ;eeded witiiont be tlie gate of ! came to open rior of the vii- [1 saw coming in white, who oing to satisfy :e of the Mas- onducted, and uty. The In- aw the Master ave him for a dian, afraid of n; but, being t reply. him, "I am to see, and to that which I ndians. I am , lakes, rivers, seen on the love you, you *^.. • must do my will; you must also avoid Jiat which I hate; I hate you to drink as you do, until you lose your reason; I wish you not to fight one another; you take two wives, or run after other people's wives ; you do wrong; I hate such conduct; you should have but one wife, and keep her until death. When you go to war, you juggle, you sing the medicine song, thinking you speak to rae; you deceive yourselves; it is to the Manito that you speak ; he is a wicked spirit who in- duces you to evil, and for want of knowing me, you listen to him. "The land on which you are, I have made for you, not for others: wherefore do you suffer the whites to dwell upon your lands? Can you not do without them? I know that those whom you call the children of your great Father sui)]>ly your wants. But, were you not wicked as you are, you would not need them. You might live as you did before you knew them. Before those whom you call your brothers had arrived, did not your bow and arrow maintain you ? You needed neither gun, powder, nor any other object. The flesh of animals was your food, their "skins your raiment. But when I saw you inclined to evil, I removed the ani- mals into the depths of the forests, that you might dei>end on your brothers for your necessaries for your clothing. Again become good and do my will, and I will send animals for your sustenance. I do not, how- ever, forl)id suffering among you your Father's children ; I love them, they know me, they pray to me; I supply their own wants, and give them that which they bring to you. Xot so with those who are come to trouble your possessions. Drive them away ; wage war agaiiist them. I love them not. They know me not. They are my enemies, they are your brothers' enemies. Send them II :ii in I. n \*> h 256 eroneniera; or, V back to the lands I have made for them. Let them remain there. "Here is a Avritten prayer which I give thee ; learn it by heart, and teach it to all the Indians and children (The Indian, observing here that he could not read, the Master of Life told him that, on his return upon earth, he should give it to the chief of his village, who would read it, and also teach it to him, as also to all the Indians). "It must be repeated," said the Master of Life, " morning and evening. Do all that I have told thee, and announce it to all the Indians as coming from the Master of Life. Let them drink but one draught, or two at most, in one day. Let them have but one wife, and discontinue running after other people's wives and daughters. Let them not Oght one another. Let them not sing the medicine song, for hi singing the medicine song they speak to the evil spirit. Drive from your lands," added the Master of Life, "those dogs in red clothing ; they are only an injury to you. When you want anything, ap})ly to me, as your brothers do, and I will give to l)oth. Do not sell to your bro- thers that whicli I have placed on the earth as food. In short, become good, and you shall want nothing. When you meet one another, ])0w, and give one another the hand of the heart. Above all, I command thee to repeat, morning and evening, the prayer which I have given thee.'" The Indian promised to do the will of the Master of Life, and also to recommend it strongly to the Indians; adding that the Master of Life should be satisfied wit'< them. His conductor then came, and leading him to the foot of the ninimtain, told him to take his ganruMits nnd t tlL. AN INDIAN VISIT TO THE GREAT SPIRIT. 257 Q. Let them e tbee ; learn and children." uld not read, \ return upon s village, who as also to all lid the Master at I have told 3 coming from t one draught, have but one people's wives another. Let II singing the spirit. Drive Life, " those injury to you. your brothers 1 to vour bro- iirth as food. ivant nothing, ind give one Above all, I evening, the )f the Master rongly to the ife should be return to his village ; which was immediately done by the Indian. His return much surprised the inhabitants of the vil- lage, who did not know what had become of him. Tiiey asked him whence he came ; but, as he had been enjoined to speak to no one until he saw the chief of the village, he motioned to them with his hand that he came from above. Having entered the village, he went immediately to the chief's wigwam, and delivered to him the prayer and laws intrusted to his care by the Master of Life. g him to the ii:arnu'nts and 22* ';^ .i If li t >t i. TPIE SIX HAWKS, OB BROKEN WING. AN ALLEGORY OF FRATERNAL AFFECTION. There were six young falcons living in a nest, all but one of whom were still unable to fly, when it so hap- pened that both the parent birds were shot by the hunt- ers in one day. The young brood waited with impa- tience for their return ; but night came, and they were left without parents and without food. Mceji-geeg-wona, or the Gray Eagle, the eldest, and the only one whose feathers had become stout enough to enable him to leave the nest, assumed the duty of stilling their cries and providing them with food, in which he was very successful. But, after a short time had passed, he, by an unlucky mischance, got one of his wings broken in pouncing upon a swan. This was the more unlucky, because the season had arrived when they were soon to go oft' to a southern climate to pass the winter, and they were only waiting to become a little stouter and more expert for the journey. Finding that he did not return, they resolved to go in search of him, and found him sorely wounded and unable to lly. "lirothcrs," he said, "an accident has befallen me, but let not this prevent your going to a wanner climate. THE SIX HAWKS; OR, BROKEN WING. 259 SCTION. a nest, all but len it so hap- t by the liunt- h1 with impa- nd they were ji-geeg-wona, ily one whose liable him to g their cries he was very )assed, he, by gs broken in lore unlucky, were soon to e winter, and stouter and [it he did not ni, and found befallen me, rmcr climnlc, Winter is rapidly approaching, and you cannot remain here. It is better that I alone should die than for you all to suffer miserably on my account." " No 1 no!" they replied, with one voice, ** we will not forsake you ; we will share your sufferings ; we will abandon our journey, and take care of you, as you did of us, before we were able to take care of ourselves. If the climate kills you, it shall kill us. Do you think we can so soon ^orgetyour brotherly care, which has surpassed a father's and even a mother's kindness ? AVhethcr you live or die, we will live or die with you." They sought out a hollow tree to winter in, and con- trived to carry their wounded nestmate there ; and, be- fore the rigors of winter set in, they had stored up food enough to carry them through its severities. To make it last the better, two of the number went off south, leaving the other three to watch over, feed, and protect the wounded bird. Meeji-geeg-wona in due time recovered from his wound, and he repaid their kindness by giving them such advice and instructi(jn in the art of hunting as his exj)erience had qualilied him to impart. As spring advanced, they began to venture out of their hiding-place, and were all successful in getting food to eke out th(Mr winter's stock, except imo youngest, who was called i*ee[)i-geewi-zains, or iho JMgeon JIawk. JJeing small and foolish, flying hitiier and yon, he always came back without anythi .,:, At last the Gray Kagle spoke to him, and denmnded tho cause of his ill luck. " It is not my smallness or weak- ness of body," said he, "that }>revents my 1 rijiging home flesh as well as my brothers. I kill ducks and other liirds every time I go out ; but, just as I get to the woods, a largo Ko-ko-ko-ho* robs mt of my prey. * Owl. »» n II t I: i 1 ^ J 260 THE SIX hawks; or, " Well ! don't despair, brother," said Mceji-geeg-wona. " I now feel ray strength perfectly recovered, and I will go out with you to-morrow," for he was the most courageous and warlike of them all. Xext day they went forth in company, the elder seat- ing himself near the lake. Peepi-geewi-zains started out, and soon pounced upon a duck. "Well done!" thought his brother, who saw his success ; but, just as he was getting to land with his prize, up came a large white owl from a tree, where he had been watching, and laid claim to it. He was about wresting it from him, when Meeji-geeg-v^ona came up, and, fixing his talons in both sides of the owl, flew home with him. The little pigeon hawk followed him closely, and was rejoiced and happy to think he had brought home some- thing at last. He then flew in the owl's face, and wanted to tear out his eyes, and vented his passion in abundance of reproachful terms. " Softly," said the Gray Eagle; " do not be in such a passion, or exhibit so revengeful a disposition ; for this will be a lesson to him not to tyrannize over any one who is weaker than himself for the future." So, after giving him good ad- vice, and telling him what kind of herbs would cure his wounds, they let the owl go. While this act ;vas taking place, and before the libe- rated owl had yet got out of view, two visitors appeared at the hollow tree. They were the two nestmates, who had just returned from the south after passing the win- ter there, and they were thus all happily reunited, and each one soon chose ■ ate and flew off to the woods. Sjjriiig had now rev ited the north. The cold wii^ds had ceased, the ice ha if i WEEXG, THE SPIRIT OF SLEEP. Sleep is personified by the Odjibwas under the name of W( cncr.* The power of the Indian Morpheus is execitod by a peculiar class of gnome-like bei!»;TS, calli'i Weemjs. These subordinate creations, although invisi!j;c to the human eye, are each armed with a tiny w;ir-c]ib, or pufrjramaugun, with which they nimbly cliuih ■'}> the forehead, and knock the (b'owsy person on the i ■' i; on which sleepiness is immediately produced. If the first blow is insufficient, another is given, until the eyelids close, and a sound sleep is produced. It is the constant duty of these little agents to put every one to sleep whom they encounter — men, women, and children. And they are found secreted around the bed, or on small protuberances of the bark of the Indian lodges. They hide themselves in the Gusiikeepitau- GUN, or smoking pouch of the hunter, and when he sits down to light his pipe in the woods, are ready to fly out and exert their sleep-comi)elling power. If they succeed, the game is suffer 'd to pass, and the liunter obliged to return to his lod; >. witnout a reward. In general, however, tin • are reprcsenlod to possess friendly dispositions, seeking constantly to restore vi- * Tliis word has the sound of g hard, with a iJeculiarity as if followed bv k. WEENG ; THE SI'llUT OF SLEEJ'. 203 under the name in Morpheus is me-like beiiiixs, itions, nlthough incd with a tiny ch they nimbly 'owsy person on lately produced. is given, until produced. It Ls to put every n, women, and iround the bed, of tlie Indian IxUSIIKEEPITAU- id when he sits ire ready to fly 3wcr. If they md the liunter reward, lUcd to possess ' to restore vi- H peculiarity as gor and elasticity to the exhausted body, ijnt being without judgment, tlieir power is sometimes exerted at the hazard of reputation, or even life. Sleep may be induced in a person carelessly floating in his canoe, above a fall ; or in a war party, on the borders of an enemy's country; or in a female, without the protection of the lodge circle. Althougli their peculiar season of action is in the night, they are also alert during the day. While the forms of these gnomes are believed to be those of ininces, little or fairy men, the figure of Weeng liimself is unknown, and it is not certain that he has ever been seen. Most of what is known on this subject, is derived from lagoo, who related, that going out one day with his dogs to hunt, he passed through a wide range of thicket, where he lost his dogs. He became much alarmed, for they were faithfid animals, and he was greatly attached to them. He called out, and made every exertion to recover them in vain. At length he came to a spot where he found them nsleep, having incaiitiously ran near the residence of Weeng. After great exertions he aroused them, but not without having felt the power of somnolency himself. As he cast Ins eyes up from the place where the d(»gs were lying, he saw the Spirit of Sleep sitting upon the branch of a tree. He was in the sha[)e of a giant insect, or monetoi,, with many wings from his back, which made a low deep murmuring sound, like distant falling water But lagoo himself, being a very great liar and braggart, but little credit was given to his narration. Weeng is not only the ilispcnser of sice]), bjit, it seems, he is also the author of dulucss, whicii renders the word susceptible of an ironical use. If an oral or ■yrxKtai ti ^iM -'WA''^ .':t I In 1 ' * I » II 1 1 } ii f^l I «■ II '*X. 264 WEENG ; THE SPIRIT OF SLEEIV fails, he is said to be struck by Weeng. If a warrior lingers, he has ventured too near the sleepy god. If children begin to nod or yawn, the Indian mother looks up smilingly, and says, "They have been struck by Weeng," and puts them to bed. ■I i EEl' g. If a warrior sleepy god. If iau mother looks been struck by ADDIK KUM MAIG * ou THE ORTGIX OF THE AVHITE FISH. A LONG time ag-o, there lived a ftimous hnnter in a remote part of the north. He had a handsome wife and two sons, who were left in the lodpre every day, while he went out in quest of the animals, npon whose flesh they subsisted. Game was very abundant in those days, and his exertions in the chase were well rewarded. The skins of animals furnished them with clothin*^-, and their flesh with food. They lived a long distance from any other lodge, and very seldom saw any one. The two sons were still too young to follow their Either to the chase, and usually diverted themselves within a short distance of the lodge. They noticed thfjit a young man visited the lodge during their father's absence, and +hese visits were fre(juently repeated. At length the elder of the two said to his mother : "My mother, who is this tall young man that comes here so often during our father's absence ? Does he wish to see him ? Sliall I tell hlni when he comes back this evening?" "Bad boy," said the mother, *This term appears to bo a ilcrivativo from addik, the roin- deer, and the i)hirHl torui of the generic gi'.mee, writer, implying deer of the water. !'| 206 ADDIIv IvUM MAIG; OR, J ii i M 'I I. tl ! ' t. ^taa'a pcttislily, "mind your how and arrows, and do not ]ji! afraid to enter tlie forest in search of birds and squirrels, with your little brotlier. It is not manly to be ever about the lodge. Nor will you become a war- rior if you tell all the little things you see and hear to your father. Say not a word to him on the subject." The boys obeyed, but us they grew older, and still saw the visits of this mysterious stranger, they resolved to si)eak again to their mother, and told her that they meant to inform their father of all they had observed, for they frequently saw thi-^ young man passing through the worxls, and he did I'ot walk in the [lath, nor did he carry ai thing to eat. If he had any message to de- liver, they had observed that messages were always addressed to the men, and not to the women. At this, the mother flew into a rage. "I will kill you," said she, "if you speak of it." They were again intimidated to hold their peace. But observing the continuance of an impro})er intercourse, kejit up by stealth, as it were, they resolved at last to disclose the whole matter to their father. They did so. The result was such as might have been Jinticipated. The father, being satis- fied of the infidelity of his wife, watched a suitable occa- sion, when she was separated from the children, that they might not have their feelings excited, and with a single blow of his war-club dispatched her. He then buried her under the ashes of his fire, took down the lodge, and removed, with his two sons, to a distant l)Osition. ]>ut the spirit of the woman haunted the children, who were now grown up to the estate of young men. She api)eared to them as tliey returned from hunting in the evening. T ley were also terrified in their dreams, which they attributed to her. She harassed their ima- THE OllTOIN OF THE WHITE FISH. 2GY !, and ilo not of l)irds and ! not manly to jcconic a war- :>e and hear to the suliject." , and still saw icy resolved to her that they had observed, issing through ith, nor did he nessage to de- were always nen. At this, cill yon," said un intimidated continuance of dtli, as it were, lole matter to t was such as [}!', being satis- i suitable occa- children, that ed, and with a her. lie then took down the ■J, to a distant 1 the children, 5f young men. from hunting n their dreams, ssed their inia- ninations wherever thcv went. Life became a scone of jjcrpctuiil terrors. They resolved, together with their father, to leave; the country, and commenced a journey toward the south. After travelling many days along the shores of Lake Superior, they passed around a high promontory of rock where a large river issued out of the lake, and soon after came to a place called Pauwateeo.* They had no sooner come in sight of these falls, than they beheld the skull of the woman rolling along the beach. They were in the utmost fear, and kn* n not how to elude her. At this moment one of tlicn. kod out, and saw a stately crane sitting on a rock ' <• middle of the rapids. They called out to the ImihI, "See, grandfather, we are persecuted by a spirit. Come and take us across the falls, so that we may escajjc her." This crane was a bird of extraordinarv size and c:reat age. When first descried by the two sons, he sat in a state of stupor, in the midst of the most violent eddies. When he heard himself addressed, he stretched fortli his neck with great deliberation, and lifting him- self l)y his wings, flew across to their assistance. " J>e careful," said the crane, "that you do not touch the back part of my head. It is sore, and should you press against it, I shall not be able to avoid throwing you both into the ra[)i(ls." They were, however, at- tentive on this point, and were safely landed on the south shore of the river. The crane then resumed his former position in the rapids. Dut the skull now cried out, " C(jme, my grandfather, and carry me over, for I have hist my children, and am sorely distressed." The aged bird * S.iut Ste. Marie. i^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ■\^ ^ ^. 1.0 I.I no ^^* MlHl u iiii 12.2 1^ U£ 12.0 ^^ JS w ^ ^\*..> %f^ /; Photographic Sciences Corporalion 33 WMT MAIN tTMIT WIUTH.N.Y, 14SM (71*)l7a-4S03 I ;1 i ii ■ 268 ADDIK KUM MAIG; OR, THE WHITE FISH. flew to her assistance. lie carefully repeated the in- junction that she must by no means touch the back part of his head, which had been hurt, and was not yet healed. She promised to obey, but soon felt a curi- osity to know where the head of her carrier had been liurt, and how so aged a bird could have received so bad a wound. She thought it strange, and before they were half way over the rajjids, could not resist the in- clination she felt to touch the affected part. Instantly the crane threw her into the rapids. " There," said he, " you have been of no use during your life, you shall now be changed into something for the benefit of your people, and it shall be called Addik Kura Maig." As the skull floated from rock to rock, the brains were strewed in the water, in a form resem- bling roes, which soon assumed the shape of a new species of fish, possessing a whiteness of color, and y)eculiar flavor, which have caused it, ever since, to be in great repute with the Indians. The family of this man, in gratitude for their de- liverance, adopted the crane as ilieir totem, or ancestral mark; and this continues to be the distinguishing tri- J)al sign of the band to this day. I •J I I' '* BOKWEWA, ou THE HUMPBACK MAGIOIAX. ODJIBWA. BoKWEWA and his brother lived in a sechidod part of the country. They were considered as Manitoes, who had assumed mortal shapes. Bokwewa was the most prifted in supernatural endowments, although he was deformed in person. His brother partook more of the nature of the present race of beiujcrs. They lived re- tired from the world, and undisturbed by its cares, and passed their time in contentment and happiness. IJokwewa,* owing to his deformity, was very domes- tic in his habits, and pave his attention to household affairs. He instructed his brother in the manner of pursuing? ganie, and made him acquainted with all the accomplishments of a sagacious and expert hunter. His brother possessed a fine form, and an active and robust constitution ; and felt a disposition to show himself off among men. Ho was restive in his seclusion, and showed a fondness for visiting remote places. One (lav he told his brother that he was going to leave him; that lie wished to visit the habitations of men and * i. €., tlio suddfU stoititiijg of a voice. 23* * 270 nOkWF.WA; OR, procure a wife. ]5ok\vcvva objected to his g-oincr; but liis l)rotlier overruled all that he said, and he finally de- parted on his travels, lie travelled a long time. At length he fell in with the footsteps of men. They were moving by encampments, for he saw several places where they had encamped. It was in the winter. He came to a place where one of their number had died. They had placed the corpse on a scaffold. He went to it and took it down, lie saw that it was the corpse of a beautiful young woman. "She shall be my wifel" he exclaimed. He took her up, and placing her on his back, returned to his brother. "Brother," he said, "cannot you re- store her to life? Oh, do me that favor!" Bokwewa said he would try. He performed numerous ceremonies, and at last succeeded in restoring her to life. Tliey lived very happily for some time. Bokwewa was ex- tremely kind to his brother, and did everything to ren- der his life hapj)y. Being deformed and crippled, he always remained at home, while his brother went out to hunt. And it was by following his directions, which were those of a skilful hunter, that he always succeeded in returning with a good store of meat. One day he had gone out as usual, and Bokwewa was sitting in his lodge, on the opposite side of his brother's wife, when a tall, fine young man entered, and immediately took the woman by the hand and drew her to the door. She resisted and called on Bokwewa, who jumped up to her assistance. But their joint resis*ance was unavailing; the man succeeded in carrying her away. In the scullle, Bokwewa had his hum}) back much l)ruised on the stones near the door. He crawled into the lodge and wept very sorely, for he THE HUMPHACK MA(ilCIA\. 271 jroincr; but le finally de- g time. At Thcv were placCvS where lie came to 1. They had nt to it and corpse of a my wife I" he ack, returned nnot you re- " Bokvvewa IS ceremonies, 3 life, they vewa was ex- thing to ren- crippled, he her went out jctions, which ays succeeded md Bokwcwa e side of his man entered, he liand and Lud called on ce. 15ut their succeeded in wewa liad his near the door. sorelv, for he knew that it was a powerful Manito who had taken the woman. When his brother returned, h*^ related all to him ex- actly as it happened, lie would not taste food for several days. Sometimes he would fall to weeping for a long time, and appeared almost beside himself. At last he said he would go in search of her. iJokwewa tried to dissuade him from it, but he insisted. "Well!" said he, "since you are bent on going, listen to my advice. You will have to go south. It is a long distance to the residence of your captive wife, and there are so many charms and temptations in the way, I am afraid you will be led astray by them, and forget your errand. For the people whom you will see in that country do nothing but amuse themselves. They are very idle, gay, and effeminate, and I am fear- ful they will lead you astray. Your journey is beset with difficulties. I will mention one or two things, which you must be on your guard against. In the course of your journey, you will come to a large grape- vine lying across your way. You must not even taste its fruit, for it is poisonous. Step over it. It is a snake. You will next come to something that looks like bear's fat, trans[)arent and tremulous. Don't taste it, or you will be overcome by the ])leasures of those ])cople. It is frog's eggs. These are simres laid by the way for you." lie said he would follow the advice, and bid farewell to his brother. After travelling a long time, he came to the enchanted grai)e-vine. It looked so temjttiiig, he forgot his brother's advice and tasted the fruit. ]Ie went on till he came to the frog's eggs. The substance so nmch resembled bear's fat that he tasted it. He still went on. At length lie came to a very extensive i!',l P'l n '; Mf i ►■ 272 JIOKWEWA; OR, plain. As he emerged from the forest the sun was settinpr, and east its scarlet and golden shades over all the plain. The air was perfectly calm, and the whole prospect had the air of an enchanted land. The most inviting fruits and flowers spread out before the eye. At a distance he beheld a large village, filled with people without number, and as he drew near he saw women beating corn in silver mortars. When they saw him approaching, they cried out, "Bokwewa's brother has come to see us." Throngs of men and women, gayly dressed, came out to meet him. He was soon overcome by their flatteries and pleasures, and he was not long afterward seen beating corn with their women (the strongest proof of effeminacy), although his wife, for whom he had mourned so much, was in that Indian metropolis. Meantime, Bokwewa waited patiently for the return of his brother. At length, after the lapse of several years, he sat out in search of him, and arrived in safety among the luxuriant people of the South. He met with the same allurements on the road, and the same flattering reception that his brother did. But he was above all temptations. The pleasures he saw had no other effect upon him than to make him regret the weakness of mind of those who were led away by them. He shed tears of pity to see that his brother had laid aside the arms of n hunter, and was seen beating corn with the women. He ascertained where his brother's wife remained. After deliberating some time, he went to the river where she usually came to draw water. He there changed himself into one of those hair-snakes which are sometimes seen in running water. When she came down, he spoke to her, snyiiig, "Take me up; I am THE HUMPBACK MAGICIAN. 273 Bokvvewa." She then scooped him out and went home. In a short time the ^[anito wlio had taken her away asked her for water to drink. Tiie lodge in whieh they lived was partitioned. He occupied a secret place, and was never seen by any one but the woman. She handed him the water containing the hair-snake, which he drank, with the snake, and soon after was a dead Man i to. Bokwewa then resumed his former shape. lie went to his brother, and used every means to reclaim him. lint he would not listen. He was so much taken up with the pleasures and dissipations into which he had fallen, that he refused to give them up, although Bok- wewa, with tears, tried to convince him of his foolish- ness, and to show him that those pleasures ro\\\(\ not endure for a long time. Finding thtit lie was past reclaiming, Bokwcwa left him, and disappeared forever. •■• ! I *■ ■ ] AGGODAGAUDA AND IITS DAUGHTER, OB THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP. Teie prairie and forest tribes were once at war, and it required the keenest eyes to keep out of the way of daii<^er. Ap^goda«i:auda lived on the borders, in the forests, but he was in a by-place not easy to lind. lie was a successful hunter and fisher, althou<2:h he had, by some mischance, lost the use of one of his legs. So he had it tied, and looped up, and got over the ground by hopping. Use had given him great power in the sound leg, and he could hop to a distance, which was surprising. There was nobody in the country who could outgo him on a hunt. Even Paup-Puk-keewiss, in his best days, could hardly excel him. But he had a great enemy in the chief or king of the buffaloes, who frequently passed over the plains with the force of a tempest. It was a peculiarity of Aggodagauda, that he had an only child, a daughter, who was very beautiful, whom it was the aim of this enemy to carry off, and he had to exert his skill to guard her from the inroad of his great and wily opponent. To protect her the better, he had built a log house, and it was only on the roof of this that he could permit his daughter to take the open air, and disport herself. Now her hair was so long, that A(iGUlJA(iALlJA AND HIS DALUMTKU. ^ 275 w'licn she untied it, the raven locks hung clown to the ground. One fine morning, the father had prepared liiniself to go out a fisliing, but before k-avlng the lodge i)ut her on her guard against their areli enemy. " The sun shines," said lie, "and the buil'alo chief will be apt to move this way before the sun gets to the middle point, and you must be careful not to ])ass out of the house, for there is no knowing but he is always narrowly watchjng. If you go out, at all, let it be on the roof, and even there keep a sharp lookout, lest he sweep by and catch you with his long horns." With this advice he left his lodge. But he had scarcely got sealed in his canoe, on his favorite fishing-ground, when his ear caught opprobrious strains from his enemy, lie list- ened again, and the sound was now clearer than be- fore — " Aggodagauila — one legged man, Man with his leg tit'd u]) ; Wliat is ho but a rapakena,* IIil)ped, and leggei i"' He immediately paddled his canoe ashore, and took his way home — hopping a hundred rods at a leap. l>ut when he reached his house his daughter was gone. She had gone out on the top of the house, and sat comb- ing her long and beautiful hair, on the eaves of the lodge, when the buflalo king, coming suddenly by, caught her glossy hair, and winding it about his horns, tossed her on to his shoulders, swept off in an opposite direc- tion to his village. He was followed by his whole troop, who made the plains shake under their tread. They soon reached, and dashed across a river, and )iur- sued their course to the chief's village, where she was 1 in * Grasshopper. -I I I i ■a- tience for her return. At last he went out with his followers, but nothing could be seen or heard of the captive daughter. They sallied out in the plains, but had not gone far, by the light of the moon, when a party of hunters, headed by the father-in-law of Aggo- dagauda, set up their yells in their rear, and a shower of arrows was poured in upon them. Many of their numbers fell, but the king being stronger and swifter than the rest, fled toward the west, and never again appeared in that part of the country. While all this was passing, Aggodagauda, who had met his daughter the moment she came out of the lodge, and being helped by his guardian spirit, took her on his shoulders and hopped off, a hundred steps in one, till he reached the stream, crossed it, and brought back his daughter in triumph to his lodge. \i I 24 i tj. 1^ M *l IOSCO ; OR, THE PRAIRIE BOYS' VISIT TO THE SUN AND MOON. AN OTTAWA LEGEND. One pleasant morning, five young men and a boy about ten years of age, called loscoda, went out a shooting with their bows and arrows. They left their lodges with the first appearance of daylight, and having passed through a long reach of woods, had ascended a lofty eminence before the sun arose. While standing there in a group, the sun suddenly burst forth in all its effulgence. The air was so clear, that it ap- peared to be at no great distance. " How very near it is," they all said. " It cannot be far," said the eldest, "and if you will accompany me, we will see if we can- not reach it." A loud assent burst from every lip. Even the boy, loscoda, said he would go. They told him he was too young ; but he replied, " If you do not permit me to go with you, I will mention your design to each of your parents." They then said to him, " You shall also go with us, so be quiet." They then fell upon the following arrangement. It was resolved that each one should obtain from his parents as many pairs of moccasins as he could, and IOSCO; OR, THE prairie-boys' visit to the sun. 279 SUx\ AND also new clothing of leather. They fixed on a spot where they would conceal all their articles, nntil they were ready to start on their journey, and which would serve, in the mean time, as a pjace of rendezvous, where they might secretly meet and consult. This being arranged, they returned home. A long time passed before they could put their plan into execution. But they kept it a profound secret, even to the boy. They frequently met at the appoint- ed place, and discussed the subject. At length every- thing was in readiness, and they decided on a day to set out. That morning the boy shed tears for a pair of new leather leggings. "Don't you see," said he to his parents, "how my companions are dressed?" This appeal to their pride and envy prevailed. He obtained the leggings. Artifices were also resorted to by the others, under the plea of going out on a special hunt. They said to one another, but in a tone that they might be overheard, "We will sec who will bring in the most game." They went out in different direc- tions, but soon met at the appointed place, where they had hid the articles for their journey, with as many arrows as they had time to make. Each one took some- thing on his back, and they began their march. They travelled day after day, through a thick forest, but the sun was always at the same distance. "We must," said they, "travel toward Waubunong,* and we shall get to the object, some time or other." No one was dis- couraged, although winter overtook them. They built a lodge and hunted, till they obtained as much dried meat as they could carry, and then continued on. This they did several times ; season followed season. More n 1 |M .t\ ' I i ^' The East — /. e. place of light. r If fi 1 I i' -1 1 i I II Hi 1 11 : \ t 1 ■ : '\ r ! ^ 280 IOSCO; OB, than one winter overtook them. Yet none of them became discouraged, or expressed dissatisfaction. One day the travellers came to the banks of a river, whose waters ran toward Waubunong. They followed it down many days. As they weie walking, one day, they came to rising grounds, from which they saw some- thing white or clear through the trees. They encamped on this elevation. Next morning they came, suddenly, in view of an immciise body of water. Xo land could be seen as far as the eye could reach. One or two of them lay down on the beach to drink. As soon as they got the water in their mouths, they spit it out, and exclaimed, with surprise, "Shewet.ngon awbo !" [salt water.] It was the sea. While looking on the water, the sun arose as if from the deep, and went on its steady course through the heavens, enlivening the scene with his cheering and animating berms. They stood in fixed admiration, but the object appeared to be as distant from them as ever. They thought it best to encamp, and consult whether it were advisable to go on, or return. "We see," said the leader, "that the sun is still on the opposite side of this great water, but let us not be disheartened. We can walk around the shore." To this they all assented. Next morning they took the northerly shore, to walk around it, but had only gone a short distance when they came to a large river. They again encamped, and while sitting before the fire, the question was put, whether any one of them had ever dreamed of water, or of walking on it. After a long silence, the eldest said ho had. Soon after they lay down to sleep. When they arose the following morning, the eldest addressed them: "We have done wrong in coming north. Last night my spirit appeared to me, and told me to go THE prairie-boys' visit to the sux and moon. 281 le of them [:tiou. ; of a river, ,ey followed ig, one day, y saw somc- ly encamped le, suddenly, \) land could ne or two of As soon as spit it out, awbo!"[salt 3n the water, went on its ins the scene They stood ired to be as rht it best to nsable to go Icr, "that the cat water, but k around the shore, to walk listance when ■ueaniped, and ion was put, d of water, or he eldest said sleep. When l(!st addressed J nurth. I^ast old nic to go ■^ south, and that but a short distance beyond the spot we left yesterday, we should come to a river with high banks. That by looking off its mouth, we should see an island, which would approach to us. He directed that we should all get on it. He then told me to cast my eyes toward the water. I did so, and I saw all he had declared. He then informed me that we must re- turn south, and wait at the river until the day after to- morrow. I believe all that was revealed to me in this dream, and that we shall do well to follow it." The party immediately retraced their footsteps in ex- act obedience to these intimations. Toward the even- ing they came to the borders of the indicated river. It had high banks, behind which they encamped, and here they patiently awaited the fulfilment of the dream. The appointed day arrived. They said, " We will see if that which has been said will be seen." Midday is the pro- mised time. Early in the morning two had gone to the shore to keep a look-out. They waited anxiously for the middle of the day, straining their eyes to see if they could discover anything. Suddenly they raised a shout. "Ewaddee suh neen ! There it is I There it is I" On rushing to the spot they beheld something like an iW«nrf steadily advancing toward the shore. As it ap- proached, they could discover that something was moving on it in various directions. They said, "It is a Manito, let us be off into the woods." "No, no," cried the eldest, "let us stay and watch." It now became stationary, and lost much of its imagined height. They could only see three trees, as they thought, resem- bling trees in a pinery that had been burnt. The wind, which had been off the sea, now died away into a i)er- feet calm. They saw comethiug leaving the fancied island and approaching the shore, throwing and flop- 24* 282 IOSCO; OR, (i l)ing its wings, like u loon wlicn he attempts to fly in culm weather. It entered j mouth of the river. They were on the point of r'u.uing away, but the eldest dissuaded them. " Let us hide in this hollow," he said, "and we will see what it can be." They did so. They soon heard the sounds of choppinja^, and quickly after they heard the falling of trees. Suddenly a man came up to the place of their concealment. He stood still and gazed at them. They did the same in utter amaze- ment. After looking at them for some time, the person advanced and extended his hand toward them. The eldest took it, and they shook hands. He then spoke, but they could not .understand each other. He then cried out for his comrades. They came, and examined very minutely their dresses. They again tried to con- verse. Finding it impossible, the strangers then mo- tioned to the Naubecpion, and to the Naubequon-ais,* wishing them to embark. They consulted with each other for a short time. The eldest then motioned that they should go on board. They embarked on board the boat, which they found to be loaded with wood. When they reached the side of the supposed island, they were surprised to see a great number of people, who all came to the side and looked at them with open mouths. One spoke out, above the others, and appear- ed to be the leader. He motioned them to get on board. He looked at and examined them, and took them down into the cabin, and set things before them to cat. He treated them very kindly. * Ship and boat. These terms exhibit the simi)lo and tlio (liiuiniitive forms of tlio name lor sliip or vessel. It is also tho term for a woman's nee(Uework, and seems to imply a tangled thready mass, and was perhaps transferred in allusion to a shi])'s rojtes. THE PRAIRIE-BOYiS' VISIT TO THE SUN AND MOON. 283 Wlicn they came on deck ap;ain, all tlie sails wtro sjjrcad, and they were fast losing si,i!:ht of land. In the course of the night and the following day they were sick at the stomach, but soon recovered. When they had been out at sea ten days, they became sorrowful, as they coul'd not converse with those who had hats on.* The following night loscoda dreamed that his spirit appeared to him. lie told him not to be discouraged, that he would open his ears, so as to be able to under- stand the people with hats. I will not permit you to understand much, said he, only sufficient to reveal your wants, and to know what is said to you. He repeated this dream to his friends, and they were satisfied and encouraged by it. When they had been out about thirty days, the master of the ship told them, a?Rl mo- tioned them to change their dresses of leather, for such as his people wore ; for if they did not, his master would be displeased. It was on this occasion that the elder first understood a few words of the language. The first phrase he comprehended was La qne notte, and from one word to another he was soon able to speak it. One day the men cried out, land I and soon after they heard a noise resembling thunder, in repeated peals. When they had got over their fears, they were shown the large guns which made this noise. Soon after they saw a vessel smaller than their own, sailing out of a bay, in the direction toward theiu. She had Hags on her masts, and when she came near she lired a gun. The large vessel also hoisted her Hags, and the W. ■ h A i 1 11 'I'l 11 ii I ^ W<'wa(Hi(»iiiiljit,', a term early and cxtoiisivcly applied to white nu'ii, \>y our iudians, and still I'lv^iiontly used. 284 IOSCO ; OR, ^ ii^ boat came alongside. The master told the person who came in it, to tell his master or king, that he had six strangers on board, such as had never been seen before, and that they were coming to visit him. It was some time after the departure of this messenger before the vessel got up to the town. It was then dark, but they could see people, and horses, and odawbons* ashore. They were landed and placed in a covered vehicle, and driven off. When they stopped, they were taken into a large and splendid room. They were here told that the great chief wished to see them. They were shown into another large room, filled with men and women. All the room was Shoneancauda.f The chief asked them their business, and the object of their journey. They told him where they were from, and where they were going, and the nature of the enterprise which they kiad undertaken. He tried to dissuade them from its execution, telling them of the many trials and diffi- culties they would have to undergo ; that so many days' march from his country dwelt a bad spirit, or Manito, who foreknew and foretold the existence and arrival of all who entered into his country. It is impossible, he said, my children, for you ever to arrive at the object you are in search of. loscoda replied : "Nosa,"I and they could see the chief blush in being called /a^Aer, "we have come so far on our way, and we will continue it ; we have re- solved firmly that we will do so. We think our lives are of no value, for we have given them up for this * Odawbon comprehends all vohiclos between a dog train i\nd a coach, wliether on wheels or runnel's. The term is nearest allied to vehicle. f Massive silver. X My father. crson who ic bad six een bcfvjre, , was some before tlie k, but they [IS* ashore, vehicle, and taken into re told that were shown and women, chief asked leir journey. L where they Tprise which de thero from als and difR- jo many days' t, or Manito, and arrival of mpossible, he at the object could see the lave come so we have re- link our lives m up for this vcen a dog train s. The tenu is ■lustiivc silver. THE PRAIRIE-BOYS' VISIT TO TOE SUN AND MOON. 285 object. Nosa," he repeated, "do not then i)rcvent us from going on our journey." The chief then dismissed them with valuable presents, after having api)ointed the next day to speak to them again, and provided everything that they needed or wished for. Next day they were again summoned to appear be- fore the king, lie again tried to dissuade them, lie said he would send them back to their country in one of his vessels : but all he said had no elTect. *' Well," suid he, "if you will go. I will furnish you all that is needed for your journey." He had everything i)ro- vided accordingly, lie told them, that three days be- fore they reached the ]5ad Si)irit he had warned them of, they would hear his Slu'shegwun.f lie cautioned them to be wise, for lie felt that he should never sec them all again. They resumed their journey, and travelled sometimes through villages, but they soon left them behind and ])asscd over a region of forests and plains, without in- habitants. They found all the productions of a new country : trees, animals, birds, were entirely different from those they were accustomed to, on the other side of the great waters. They travelled, and travelled, till they wore out all of the clothiug that had been ghven to them, and had to take to their leather clothiug again. The three days the chief spoke of meant three years, for it was only at the end of the third year, that they came within the sight of the spirit's slicshegwun. The sound appeared to be near, l)ut they contiuueil walking on, day after Hi .* 1 * This is a vovl»al form, plural minilK-r, of the transitive adjcftivo — fuulirili. t Midday, or middle liiio. 292 IOSCO ; or, the prairie-koys' vjsit, etc. and were happy. Tlioy related all that luid l)erallen them. Tiiey did not conceal anything; ; and they ex- ]>ressed their jrratitndc to the dillerent Manitoes who liad preserved them, by feastin*^ and jrifts, and particn- larlv to the sun and moon, who had received them as their children. ■fallen 17 cx- s wlio irticn- cm as THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS. ODJIliWA. '-1 til ' I'' i I There once lived a little boy, all alone with his sis- ter, in a very wild uninhabitable country. Tliey saw nothing but beasts, and birds, the sky above them, and the earth beneath them. But there were no human be- ings besides themselves. The boy often retired to think, in lone places, and the ojiinion was formed that he had supernatural powers. It was su|)i)osed that he would perform some extraordinary exploits, and he was called Onwe Bahmondoong, or he that carries a ball on his back. As he grew up he was impatient to know whetherthere were other beings near them: she replied, that there was, but they lived in a remote distance. There was a large village of hunters and warriors. Be- ing now well grown, he determined to seek his fortune, and asked her to make him several pairs of moccasins to last him on the journey. With this request she com- plied. Then taking his bow and arrows, and his war- club, and a little sack containing his nawajrpo, or travel- ling victuals, he immediately set out on his journey. lie travelled on, not knowing exactly where he went. Hills, plains, trees, rocks, forests, meadows, spread be- fore him. Sometimes he killed an animal, sometimes a bird. The deer often started in l»is path. He saw the fox, the bear, and the ground-hog. The eagles screamed M • '*■ j II If .' 294 ONWE IJAIIMONDOONO ; above him. Tlio ducks cliattercd in tlic ponds and lakes, lie lay down and slept when he was tired, he rose up when he was refreshed. At last he came to a small wigwam, and, on looking into it, discovered a very old woman sitting alone by the fire. As soon as she saw the stranger, she invited him in, and thus ad- dressed him: "Aly poor grandchild, I suppose you are one of those who seek for the distant village, from which no person has ever yet returned. Unless your guardian is more powerful than the guardian of your ]>redecessors, you too will share a similar fate of theirs. ]ie careful to provide yourself with the Ozhebahguh- nun — the bones they use in the medicine dance* — with- out which you cannot succeed." After she had thus spoken, she gave him the following directions for his journey. "When you come near to the village which you seek, you will see in the centre a large lodge, in which the chief of the village, who has two daughters, resides. Before the door you will see a great tree, which is smooth and destitute of bark. On this tree, about the height of a man from the ground, a small lodge is suspended, in which these two daughters dwell. It is here so many have been destroyed. ]}e wise, my grandchild, and abide strictly l)y my directions." The old woman then giive him the Ozhebahguhiuin, which would cause his success. Placing them in his bosom, he continued his journey, till at length he arrived at the sought-for village ; and, as he was gazing around him, he saw l)oth the tree and the lodge which the old woman had mentioned. Immediately he bent his steps * The idea attju'luMl to tlic use of tlieso lionos in tlio nicdi- cino (laiK'o is, tiiat, hy thoir iiiii_u'''al inlluciiot.', tlio actor can l>oiK'tratL' and go tliiougli any sub.stancc. THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS. 295 I ,1 •■ Is antl •ed, 1»<3 lie to a cred a soon as hus ad- )se you re, from ;ss YOur of your >f theirs. bul»p:uh- ^■. — with- liad thus IS for his ge Nvljich iodpjo, iu !iu;j;hters, reat tree, this tree, 1, a small crsdweU. wise, my The hs V lun, which ids bosom, iirrived at \\ir uronnd eh the ohl It his ste^s i\ tlio moiV\- aitor can for the tree, and approacldnjr, he endeavored to reaeh the snsi)eiided lodge. But all his ctlbrts ^vere vain ; for as often as he attempted to reach it, the tree began to tremble, and soon shot up so that the lodge could hardly be perceived. Foiled as he was in all his at- tempts, ho thought of his guardian and changed him- self into a small scpiirrel, that he might more easily accomplish his design, lie then mounted the tree in quest of the lodge. After climbing for some time, he became fatigued, and panted for breath ; but, remondjer- ing the instructions which the old woman had given him, he took from his bosom one of the bones, jind thrust it into the trunk of the tree, on which he sat. In this way he quickly found relief; and, as often as he became fatigued, he repeated this ; but whenever he came near the lodge and attem{)ted to toneh it, the tree would shoot up as before, and i)lace the lodge he- yond his reach. At length, the bones being exliaustecl, he I)egan to despair, for the earth had long since van- ished from his sight. Summoning all resolution, he determined to make another ell'ort to reach the object of his wishes. On he went ; yet, as soon as he came near the lodge and attempted to toucl- it, the tree again shook, but it hs!d reached the arch of heaven, and could go no higher; so now he entered the lodge, anJegahnuhl)ee.f ^V'hen- ever he addressed the one on his left hand, the tree would tremble as before, and settle down to its former position. But when he addressed the one on his right hand, it would again shoot upwanl as before. AVheJi IT i! : n - ^ 1 'tP, ! M i li * Ono who sits ln'hind. \ 'Jiio wlio sits bffore. 296 OiWVE 3JAIIMONDOONG ; ; ! he thus discovered that, by addressing the one on his left hand, the tree would descend, he continued to do so until it liad resumed its former position ; then seiz- in*? his war-chil), he thus addressed the sisters : " You, who have caused the death of so many of my brothers, I will now put an end to, and thus have revenge for the numbers you have destroyed." As he said this he raised the club and laid them dead at his feet. He then descended, and learning that these sisters had a brother living with their father, who would pursue him for the deed he had done, he set off at random, not knowing whither he went. Soon after, the father and mother of the young women visited their residence and found their renuiins. They immediately told their son Mudjikcwis that his sisters had been slain, lie replied, " The person who has done this must be the lioy that carries the JJall on his ]5ack. I will pursue him, and have revenge for the blood of my sisters." "It is well, my son," replied the father. " Tlie si)irit of your life grant you success. I counsel you to be wary in the pursuit. It is a strong spirit who has done this injury to us, and he will try to deceive you in every way. Above all, avoid tasting food till you succeed ; for if you break your fast before you see his blood, your power will be destroyed." So saying, they ])arted. His son instantly set out in search of the murderer, who, finding he was closely pursued by tlie brother of the slain, climbed n\) into one of the tallest trees and shot forth his magic arrows. Finding that his pursuer was not turned back by his arrows, he renewed his (light; and when he found himself hard i)ressed, and his eneniv close behind him, he transfornied himself into the skeleton of a moose tliat had been killed, whose ^^^^^^^^^P * THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS. 291 on hia to do i sciz- ' You, atbers, o-c for this he t. He ; had a ;ue him 3m, not her and nee and lieir son replied, 5oy that lim, and " It is , of your wary in one tiiis in every succeed ; is l)lood, ng, they nurdercr, )rothcr of trees and is pursuer icwed his .ss(m1, and (I himself led, whose ■■ flesh had come ofT from liis bones. He tlien remember- ed the moccasins which Ins sister had given liiuj, which were enchanted. Taking a pair of them, lie jthiced tliem near the skeleton. "IJo," said he to them, "to the end of the earth." The moccasins then left him and their tracks re- mained. Mudjikcwis at length came to the skeleton of the moose, when he perceived that the track he had long been pursuing did not end there, so he continued to follow it up, till he came to the end of the earth, where he found only a pair of moccasins. Mortified that he had been outwitted by following a pair of moc- casins instead of the o!)ject of his revenge, he bitterly complained, resolving not to give up the ])ursuit, and to be more wary and wise in scrutinizing signs. }[q then called to mind the skeleton he met on his way, and concluded that it must be tho object of his search. He retraced his steps towards the skeleton, but found, to his surprise, that it had disappeared, and that tho tracks of Onwe Buhmondoom/^ or he who carries the ]iall, were in another direction. He now became faint with hunger, and resolved to give uj) the ])ursult; but?' when he remembered the blood of his sisters, he deter- mined again to i)ursue. The other, finding he was closely ])ursued, now changed himself into a very old man, with two daugh- ters, who lived in a large lodge in the centre of a l)eau- tlful garden, which was filled with everything that could delight the eye or was pleasant to the taste. He made himself ajjpear so very old as to be unable to leave his lodge, and had his daughters to bring him food and wait on him. The garden also had the np))earanee of ancient occupancy, and was highly cultivated. His i)ursuer continued on till he was nearly starved v'f* 1 V" m - ■ 1 Vt.» i i'jl 1 ] i:i; %:i i i I: '- ,■*- 298 TFFR ENCHANTED MOCCASINS. and ready to sink. He exclaimed, " Oli ! I will forjiX't the blood of my sisters, fur 1 am starving;" but again he thonght of the blood of his sisters, and again he resolved to pursue, and be satisfied with nothing but the attainment of his right to revenge. He went on till he came to the beautiful garden. ]Ie ai>[)roached the lodge. As soon as the daughters of the owner perceived him, they ran and tuld their father that a stranger approached the lodge. Their father replied, " Invite him in, my children, invite him in." They quickly did so; and by the command of their father, they boiled some corn and prepared other savory food. Mudjikewis had no suspicion of the deception, lie was faint and weary with travel, and felt that he could endure fasting no longer. AVithout hesitancy, he partook heartily of the meal, and in so doing was overcome. All at once he seemed to forget the blood of his sisters, and even the village of his na- tivity, lie ate so heartily as to produce drowsiness, and soon fell into a ])rofound sleep. Onwe IJahmon- doong watched his opportunity, and, as soon as he found his sluml)ers sound, resumed his youthful form. He then drew the magic ball from his back, which turned out to be a heavy war-club, with one blow of which he put an end to his pursuer, and thus vindicated his title as the Wearer of the IJall. m I "orgct ap:ain liii l»c "• but ardcn. t!;hters I their Their ite him laiul of d other of the rel, and Yithout d in so forget his ua- wsiness, )i\hinon- he found in. He h turned ^vhieh he his title if LKELINAU. A CHIPPEWA TALK. The Pukwudjininces, or fairies of Lake Superior, liad one of their most noted i)laces of res1(U'nee at tlie ♦rreat sand dunes of Koiffow Wndjoo, called by the French La Grandes Sdhles. lEere they were fre- quently seen in bright mooidight evenings, and the lishermcn while sitting in their canoes on the lake of- ten saw them playing their pranks, and skipping over the hills. There was a grove of ])ines in that vicinity called the manito wac, or Sjjirit wood, into which they might be seen to flee, on the approach of evening, and there is a romantic little lake on those elevated sand-hills, not far back from the Great liake, on the shores of which their tracks could be plainly seen in the sand. These tracks were not bigger than little children's footprints, and the spirits were often seen in the act of vanishing behind the little pine-trees. They love to dance in the most lonesome jdaces, and were always full of glee and merriment, for their little voices could be plainly lizard. These little men, the ])ukwu I \i I ii NOTES. THE riBIJIGWUN.* f ! I OPE my voice, not witl iv Deep, solemn an ' m;." Of trump or drum, i In eoats of steel, < jr . Nor is my tone, tin; >- ■ ;,) r. r/s tone, .lot with sounds armed squadrons on, ^ loody grounds, unhing storms, That sweep in m;ui career through forests tall, Up-tearing gnarled oaks, with sounds of hellish forms, That bode destruction black, and death to all. Nor is it yet the screaming warrior, loud. With hand upraised to mouth, hyena-strong. That tells of midnight onrush, hell-endowed, And bleeding scalp of aged, mild and young. Ah no ! it is a note that's only blown, Where kindness fills the heart, and every thrill Is peace and love, while music's softer tone Steals on the evening air, its simple aims to fill. Waking the female ear to carols of the Pibbigwun. TUE CHIPPEWA GIRL. TiiEY tell me, the men with a white-white face Belong to a purer, nobler race ; But why, if they do, and it may bo so. Do their tongues cry, "Yes" — and their actions, "No?" * Indian (lute. M' ! til ^ If 308 DOUBT. Tliey tell rnc, that white is a heavenly hue, And it may be so, but the sky is blue ; And the first of men — as our old men say, Had earth-brovvu skins, and were made of clay. But throughout my life, I've heard it said, Tliere's nothing surpasses a tint of red ; Oh, the white man's cheeks look pale and sad. Compared to my beautiful Indian lad. Then let them talk of their race divine, Their glittering domes, and sparkling wine ; Give me a lodge, like my fathers had. And my tall, straight, beautiful Indian lad. D0UJ3T. NiNiMosiiA,* think'st thou of mo. When beneath the forest tree .' Do'st thou in the passing wind, Catoh the sighs I've cast behiJid ? Ah ! I fear — I fear — I fear, Kvil bird hath filled thine ear. Ninimoslia, in the clear blue sky, Canst thou read my constancy, Or in whispering branches near, Aught from thy true lover hear { Ah ! I ft;ar — I f-ar — I fear. Evil bird hath filled thine ear. * My sweetheart. FAIRY WHISPERINGS. 309 FAIRY WHISPERINGS, Supposed to be addressed to, and responded hy a young pine- tr.u;, in a state of transformation. INVOCATION. Spirit of the dancing leaves, Hear a throbbing lieait that grieves, Not for joys this worbl can give, But the life that spirits live : Spirit of the foaming billow, Visit thou my nightly pillow, Shedding o'er it ilver dreams, Of tht! mountain itrooks and streams. Sunny glades, and golden hours. Such as suit thy buoyant powers : Spirit of the starry night, Pencil out tliy Jleecy light. That my footprints still my lead To the blush-let Miscodeed,* Or the llower to passion true Yielding free its carmine hue : Si»irit of the morning dawn, Waft thy fleecy columns on. Snowy white, or tender blue. Such as brave men love to view. Spirit of the greenwood plume. Shed around thy leaf jx'rfume, Such as springs from buds of gold Wliich thy tiny hands unfold. Spirits, liither .ii.ick repair, Hear a maidei- ;» evening pia/er. W * C'laytonia Virginica. h r- \i I I I I up 310 SONG OF THE OPECIIEE, THE ROBIN. K E s r O X S K . Maiden, think mo not a tree, But thine own dear lover free, Tall and youthful in my bloom With the bright green nodding plume. Thou art leaning on my breast, Lean forever there, and rest ! Fly from man, that bloody race, Pards, assassins, bold and base ; Quit their dim, and false parade For the quiet lonely, shade. Leave the windy birchen cot For my own light hai>py lot ; O'er thee I my veil will lling. Light as beetle's silken wing ; I will breathe i>erfume of flowers, O'er thy happy evening hours ; I will in my shell canoe Waft thee o'er the waters blue ; I will deck thy mantle fold, With the sun's last rays of gold. Come, and on the mountain free Rove a fairy bright with me. SONG OF THE OPECIIEE, THE ROBIN. The Chippewas relate that the robin originated from a youth who was subjected to too severe a task of fastiug. In the boundless woods there are berries of red, And fruits of a beautiful blue, Where, by nature's own hand, the sweet singers an; fed, And to nature they ever are true. We go not with arrow and bow to the field. Like men of the liene ruddy race. To take away lives which they never can give, And revel the lords of the cliase. EVENING CHANT OF INDIAN CHILDREN. 311 I ;l If danger approaches, with instant alarm We fly to our own leafy woods, And there, with an innocent carol and charm, We sing to our dear little broods. At morning wo sally in quest of the grain Kind nature in plenty supplies. Wo skip o'er the beautiful wide-stretching plain, And sport in the vault of the skies. At evening wo perch in some neighboring tree To carol our evening adieu, And feel, although man assert he is free, We only have liberty true. We sing out our praises to God and to man, We live as heaven taught us to live, And I would not change buck to mortality's plan For all that the mortal can give. Here ceased the sweet singer ; then pluming his breast, He winged the blue firmament free, Ile}X)ating, as homeward he flew to his rest, Tshee-ree-lee — Tshee-ree lee — Tshee-ree-leo ! EVENING CHANT OF INDIAN CHILDREN TO THE WATASEE, THE FlUE-FLY. FiRE-KLV, fire-fly! bright little thing, Light me to bed, and my song I will sing. Give me your light, as you fly o'er n)y head. That I may merrily go to my bed. (live me your light o'er the grass as you cro«'p. That I may joyfully go to my sleep. Come, little fir«»-fly — come, little beast — Come! and I'll make you to-morrow a feast. Come, little candle that flios as I sing, Bright little fairy-bug — night's little king ; Come, and I'll dance as you guide me along, Come, antl I'll pay you, my bug, with a song. * ' m IK r m it} 312 SONG OF A CAPTIVE CHEEK GIRL. -:i- SONG OF A FAIRY CHIEF. Addresseil to the winds on transferring his sister to a posi- tion as ono of the phinots in the morning sky. Blow, winds, blow, my sii^ter lingers From her dwelling in the sky, Where the moon witli ros^y fingers Shall her cheeks with vermil dye. Tliere my earliest views directed, Shall from her their brilliance take And her smiles through clouds reliected, Guide me on, by wood and lake. While I range the highest mountains, Sport in valleys, green and low. Or beside our Indian fountains, Raise my tiny hip hallo. f« SONG OF A CAPTIVE CREEK GIRL, Who was an exile in a distant northern tribe, confined on an island in Lake Superior. To sunny vales, to balmy skies. My thoughts, a fiowery arrow, flies; I see the wood, the bank, the glade. Where first, a wild wood girl, I played. I think on scones and faces dear ; They are not here — they are not hero. In this cold sky, in this lone isle, I meet no friends, no mother's smilo. I list the wind, I list the wave ; They seem like rctiuicms round the grave. And all my heart's young joys arc gone ; It is alone — it is alone. MALE SONG. 313 •| a posi- FEMALE SONG. Mv lovo is a liunter — ho hunts the fleet deer, With fusil or arrow, one-half of the year ; He hunts the fleet deer over mountain and len, But his heart is still hunting for love and for me. My love is a warrior ; when warriors go, With fusil or arrow, to strike the hold foe, He treads the hright war-path with step bold and free, But still his thoughts wander to love and to me. But hunter or warrior, where'er he may go, To track the swift deer, or to follow the foe, His heart's warm desire, field and forest still flee, To go hunting his love, and make captive of mo. i m T»T IvlJ, ed on an MALE SOXO. Mv love, she gave to me a helt, a belt of texture fine, Of suowy hue, emboss'd with blue and scarlet porcupine; Tliis tender braid sustain'd the blade I drew against the foe, And ever prest upon my breast, to mark its ardent glow. And if with art I act my part, and bravely fighting stand, I, in the din, a trophy win, that gains Nimosha's hand. My lovo, she is a handsome girl, she has a sparkling eye. And a head of flo^eing raven hair, and a forehead arched and high ; Her teeth are whito as cowry shells, brought from the distant sea. And she is tall, and graceful all, and fair as fair c; n be. And if with art I act my part, and bravely wooing stand, And with address my suit I press, I gain Nimosha's hand. Oh, I will search the silver brooks for skin of blackest dye, And scale the highest mountain-tops, a warrior's gift to spy ! I'll place them where my lovo shall see, and know my present true ; Perhaps when sho admirefi the gift, she'll love the giver, too. 27 I il 314 THE LOVE OP THE FOREST. I And if with art I act my part, and bravely wooing stand, I'll gain my love's unsullied heart, and then I'll gain her hand. THE LOVE OF THE FOREST. To rove with the wild bird, and go where we will, Oh, this is the charm of the forest-life still ! With our houses of bark, aud our food on the plain, Wo are off like an eagle, and back there again. No farms can detain us, no chattels prevent ; We live not by ploughing — we thrive not by rent ; Our herds rove the forest, our flocks swim the floods, And we skim the broad waters, and trip through the woods. With ships not of oak wood, nor pitchy, nor strong, We sail along rivers, and sail with a song ; We care not for taxes — our laws are but few ; The dart is our sickle, our ship the canoe. If enemies press us, and evil fear stray, We seize on our war-clubs, and drive them away. And when there is nothing to fear or withstand. We lift the proud rattle, and dance on the land. In feasting and dancing, our moments are gay ; We trust in the God who made heaven and day; We read no big volumes, no science implore. But ask of our wise men to teach us their lore. Tlie woods are our pastuies; we eat what we find. And rush through the lands like a rattling wind. Heaven gave us the country ; we cling to the west. And, dying, wo fly to the Lands of the Blest ! 1 LIGHT OP CHRISTIANITY IN THE WIGWAM. 315 LIGHT OF CHKISTIAXITY IX TUE WIUWAM. On why, ye subtle spirits, why Lift I my eyes to yonder floating sky, Where clouds paint pictures* with so clear a hue ? A heaven so beautiful it must be true. For if I but to earth withdraw my eyes, And fix them on the creature man To scan his acts, the dear, fond picture dies, And worse he seems in thought, and air, and plan Than the hyena, beast that only digs For food, and not rejoices in the dart, Tliat stopped the warm blood current of the heart. Had men but had just what the earth can give, It would be misery, and lies, and blood, Pinching and hunger, so that he who lives But lives, as some poor outcast drowning in a flood. And then — ah, tell me 1 — whither goes the soul ? Oh why, ye spirits blest, oh wliy Is truth so darkened to the human eye ? As if a sombre cloud all heaven made black. And the sun shone but through a chink or cruck. Within a wail, where light is but the accident of thinprs, And not the purport. Truth may be then as the white men write. And all our tribes in a darkness set, instead of light. !j'f i » hi kr\ i I l/ii iifi 316 NOCTURNATi GRAVE LIGHTS. |i I: 1' NOCTURNAL GRAVE LIGHTS. It is supposed to be four days' journey to tfte land of the dead; wherefore, during four nights, the Chippewas kindle a tiro on the grave. Light up a fire upon my grave When I am dead. 'Twill softly shed its beaming rays, To guide the soul its darkling ways ; And ever, as the day's full light Goes down and leaves the world in night, These kindly gleams, with warmth possest, Shall show my spirit where to rest When I am dead. Four days the funeral rite renew. When I am dead. While onward bent, with typic woes, I seek the red man's last repose ; Let no rude hand the flame destroy, Nor mar the scene with festive joy ; While night by night, a ghostly guest, I journey to my final rest. When I am dead. No moral light directs my way When I am dead. A hunter's fate, a warrior's fame, A shade, a phantom, or a name. All life-long through my hands have sought, ITnblest, unlettered, and untaught : Deny me not the boon I crave — A symbol-light upon my grave, When I am dead. MANITO. 317 ii MANITO. " Every exhibition of elementary power, in eartli or sky, is deemed, by the Indians, as a symbolic typo of a deity."— Hist. Inds. In rhe frowning cliff, that high Glooms above the passing eye, Casting spectral shadows tall Over lower rock and wall ; In its morn and sunset glow, I behold a Manito. L ^ I •I By the lake or river lono, In the humble fretted stone, Water-sculptured, and, by chanoe, Cast along the wave's expanse ; In its morn and sunset glow, I behold a Manito. In whatever 'a dark or new, And my senses cannot view, Complex work, appearance strange. Arts' advance, or nature's change — Fearful e'er of hurt or woe, I behold a Manito. In the motions of the sky, Where the angry lightnings fly, And the thunder, dread and dire. Lifts his mighty voice in fire — Awed with fear of sudden woe, I behold a Manito. ■I" Mm lil Here my humble voice I lift, Here I lay my sacred gift, And, with heart of fear and awe, Raise my loud Wan-la-le-au. 2T* i' ! 1 r ,ti.. ) iM §s 318 NIAGARA, AN ALLEOOUY. Spirit of the fields above, Tlieo I fear, and Thee I love, Whether joy betide or woo. Thou, tliou art my Manito. NIAGARA, AN ALLEGORY. An old gray man on a mountain lived. He had daughters four and one, And a tall bright lodge of the betula bark That glittered in the sun. He lived on the very highest top. For he was a hunter free, Where he could spy, on the clearest day, Gleams of the distant sea. *' Come out ! come out !" cried the youngest one ; " Let us olf to look at the sea !" And out they ran, in their gayest robes. And skipped and tslv with glee. " Come, Su;* come, Mi;t come, Hu ;| come, Cla ;''§ Cried laughing little Er;|| " Let us go to yonder deep blue sea. Where the breakers foam and roar." And on they scampered by valley and wood. By earth and air and sky. Till they came to a steep where the bare rocks stood. In a precipice mountain high. " Inya !"^ cried Er, "here 's a dreadful leap! But we are gone so far. That, if we flinch and return in fear, Nos** he will cry, * Ha 1 ha !' " t Huron. * Superior. f Michigan. § St. Clair. || Erie. ^ An exclamation of wonder and surprise. — 0(fj. Ian. ** My father.— 76. i CIIILEELI. Now, each was clad in a vesture light, That floated far behind, With sandals of frozen water drops, And wings of painted wind. And down they plunged with a merry skip, Like birds that skim the plain ; And "Hey!" they cried, "let us up and try, And down the steep again !" And up and down the daughters skipped, Like girls on a holiday. And laughed outright at the sport and foam They called Niagara. If yo would see a sight so rare. Where Nature 's in her glee. Go, view the spot in the wide wild West, Tlie land of the brave and free ! But mark — their shapes are only seen In Fancy 's deepest play ; But she plainly shows their wings and feet In the dancing sunny spray. 319 in' II l! (. , I 'f^i CIIILEELI. Tlie Chipi)ewas relate that the spirit of a young lover, who was killed in battle, determined to return to his afliaiiccd maid, in the shape of a bird, and console her by his songs. He found her in a chosen retreat, where she daily resorted to pass her pensive hours. Stay not here — the men are base, I have found a happier place, Where no war, or want severe. Haunts the mind with thoughts of fear ; Men are cruel — bloody — cold. Seeking like lynx the rabbit's wold, Not to guard from winds or drought. But to suck its life's blood out. f M * -*«,#»«-«.-* .-^*. 320 CIIILEELI. Stcay not here — oh, stay not here, 'Ti.s a world of want and fear. * ■ "' i:\ y 'V' . I I liave found those happy plains. Where the blissful Si)irit reigns, Such, as by our wise men old, All our fathers have foretold. Streams of sparkling waters flo^v. Pure and clear, with silver glow ; Woods and shady groves abound, Long sweet lawns and painted ground ; Lakes, in winding shores extend. Fruits, with flowers, inviting blend ; While, throughout the green-wood groves, Gayest birds sing out their loves. Stay not here, my trustful maid, 'Tis a world for robbers made. I will lead you, soul of love. To those flowery haunts above. Where no tears or pain are found — Where no war-cry shakes the ground ; Where no mother hangs her head. Crying : *' Oh, my child is dead I" Where no human blood is spilt, Where there is no pain, or guilt ; But the new-freed spirit roves Round and round, in paths of loves. Pauguk's* not admitted there. Blue the skies, and sweet the air ; There are no diseases there ; There no famished eyeball rolls. Sickness cannot harm the souls ; Hunger is not there a guest. Souls are not with hunger press'd, All are happy, all are blest. * Death. CHILEELI. 321 Rife the joys our fathers soni,'ht, Sweet to eye and ear and thought, Stay not htre, my weeping maid, 'Tis a workl in glooms arrayed. Wishes there, all wants supply, Wants of hand, and heart, and eye ; Labor is not known — that thorn Pricks not there, at night or morn. As it goads frail mortals here, With its pain, and toil, and fear ; Shadows typical and fair, Fill the woods, the fields, the air. Stately deer, the forests fill, Just to have them is to will ; Birds walk kindly from the lakes, And whoever wants them, takes ; There no drop of blood is drawn, Darts are for an earthy lawn. Hunters, warriors, chiefs, are there, Plumed and radiant, bright and fair ; But they are the ghosts of men, And ne'er mix in wars again ; They no longer rove with ir*;, Wood or wold, or sit by fire ; Council called — how best to tear, From the gray-head crown its hair. Dripping with its vital blood, Horror — echoed in the wood. Stay not here — where horrors dwell, Earth is but a name for hell. ft! i Hi' •I .) I it 11! Oh, the Indian paradise is sweet, Naught but smiles the gazers meet ; All i& fair — the sage's breast. Swells with joy to hail each guest — Comes he, from these sounding shoi-es, Or the North God's icy stores. Where the shivering children cry. In their snow-cots and bleak sky ; i I H 322 ON THE STATE OP THE IROQUOIS; OR, Or the far receding south, Burned with heat, and palsied drought, All are welcome — all receive, Gifts great Chibiabos gives. Stay not, maiden — weep no more, I have found the happy sh^re. Come with me, and we will rove. O'er the endless plains of love. Full of flowers, gems, and gold, Where there is no heart that's cold, Where there is no tear to dry In a single human eye. Stay not here ; cold world like this, Death but opes the door to bliss. ON THE STATE OF THE IROQUOIS, OR SIX NATIONS. In 1845, the Legislature of New York directed a census of these cantons, which evinced an advanced state of industry. The lordly Iroquois is tending sheep. Gone are the plumes that decked his brow, For his bold raid, no more the wife shall weep — He holds the plough. Tlie bow and quiver which his fathers made ; The gun, that filled the warrior's deadliest vow ; The mace, the spear, the axe, the ambuscade — Where are they now ? Mute are the hills that woke his dreadful yell — Scared nations listen with affriglit no more ; IIo walks a farmer over field and dell Once rod with gore. Frontlet and wampum, baldric, brand, and knife, Skill of the megalonyx, snake and fox. All now are gonel — transformed to peaceful life — llu drives the ox. RSIX jnsus of lustry. SIX NATIONS. 323 Algon, and Cliorokee, and Illinese, No more beneath his stalwort blow shall writhe : Peace spreads her reign wide o'er his inland seas — He swings the scythe. Grain now, not men, employs his manly powers ; To learn the white man's arts, and skill to rule, For this, his sons and daughters spend their hours — They go to school. Glory and fame, that erewhile fired his sonl, And nerved for war his ever vengeful arm. Whore are your charms his bosom to control ? — Ue tills a farm. His war-scar'd visage, paints no more deform — His garments, made of beaver, deer, and rat, Are now exchanged for woollen doublets warm- He wears a hat. His very pipe, surcharged with sacred weed. Once smoked to spirits dreamy, dread and sore, Is laid aside — to think, to plan, to read — He keeps a store. Tliis is the law of progress — kindlier arts Have shaped his native energies of mind, And back he comes — from wandering, woods and darts Back to mankind. -',, m,'. n His drum and rattles, botli are thrown away — His native altars stand without a bla/.i', — Truth, robed in gospel light, liath found her way — And hark I ho prays ! 324 THE loon's foot. THE LOON'S FOOT. I Tiiorr.HT it was the loon's foot, I saw Ijencath tlie tide, But no — it was my lover's shining paddle I espied ; It was my lover's paddle, as my glance I upward cast. That dipj)ed so light and gracefully as o'er the lake I passed. Tlie loon's foot — the loon's foot, 'Tis graceful on the sea ; But not so light and joyous as That paddle blade to me. I My eyes were hent upon the wave, I cast thera not aside, And thought I saw the loon's foot beneatli the silver tide. But ah ! my eyes deceived me — for as my glance I cast. It was my lover's paddle blade that dipped so light and fast. The loon's foot — the loon's foot, 'Tis sweei i.. l Tair to see, But oh, my I ' r; paddle blade, Is sweeter ,»'■ <> me. The lake's wave — the long wave — the billow ])ig and free, It wafts me up and down, within my yellow light canoe ; But while I see beneath heaven pictured as I speed. It is that beauteous paddle blade, that makes it heaven in- deed. Tlie loon's foot — the loon's foot, Tlie bird ujk)!! the sea. Ah ! it is not so beauteous As that paddle blade to me. TULCO, rillNCE OF NOTTO. 325 n ssed. fast. ee, e; ran in- TULCO, PRINCE OF NOTTO. Tulco, a Cherokee chief, is said to have visited, in 1838, the rotunda, or excavations, under the great mound of Grave Creek, while the Indian antiquities were collected there, and the skeleton found in the lower vault was suspended to the wall, and the exudations of animal matter depended from the roof. 'Tis not enough that hated race Should hunt us out from grove and jAace, And consecrated shores, where long Our fathers raised the lance and song — 'Tis not enough that we must go Where unknown streams and fountains How, Whose murmurs heard amid our fe;irs, Fall only now on foeman's ears — 'Tis not enough, that with a wand They sweep away our pleasant land^ And bid us, as some giant foe, Or willing or unwilling go; But they must ope our very graves, To tel' the dead they too are slaves ! And hang their bones upon the wall. To please their gaze and gust of thrall ; As if a dead dog from Iwlow Were made a jesting-stock and show! See, from above ! the restless dead Peer out, with exudation dread — That hangs in robes of chvUimy wliite, Like clouds upon the inky night ; Their very ghosts are in this place, I see them pass before my face ; With frowniug brows they whirl arouutl Within this consecrated mound ! Away — away, vile caitiif race, And give the dead their resting-place. 28 IW ^w.\ 326 ON PRESENTING A WILD ROSE. Tlify point — they cry — they hkl m'^ smite The Wa-bish-kiz-zee* in their sight I Did Europe come to crush us dead, Because on flying deer we fed, And worshipped gods of airy forms, Who ride in thumier-clouds, the storms ? Because we use not plough or loom, Is ours a black and bitter doom That has no light — no world of bliss ? — Then is our hell commenced in this. * * m * Nay, ft is well — but tell me not The white race now possess the spot, That fury marks my brow, and all I see is but my fancy's pall That glooms my eyes — ah, white man, no I The woe we taste is solid woe. Comes then the thought of better things, When we were men, and we were kings. Men are we now, and still there rolls A monarch's blood iu all our souls I A warrior's lire is in our hearts, Our hands are strong in feathery darts ; And let us die as they have died Who are the Indian's boast and pride ! Nor creep to graves, in flying west, Unplumed, dishonored, and unblest I i' ON PRESENTING A WILD ROSE PLUCKKI) ON THE SOURCES OF TUE MlSSISSll'l'I. Take thou the rose, though blighted. Its sweetness is not gone. And like the heart, though slighted, In memory it blooms on. * Whit© men. THE RED MAN. 327 Thy hand its leaves may nourish, Thy smiles its bloom restore ; So warmed its buds may llourish, And bloom to life once more. Yet if they bloom not ever, These thoughts may life impart To hopes I ne'er could sever One moment from my heart. Oh, then, receive my token, From far-off northern sky, That speech, once kindly spoken, Can never — never die. THE RED MAN. I STOOD upon an eminence, that wide O'erlooked a length of land, where spread The sounding shores of Lake Superior ; And at my side there lay a vale Replete with little glens, where oft The Indian wigwam rose, and little fields Of waving corn displayed their tassel led heads. A stream ran through the vale, and on its marge There grew wild rice, and bending alders dipped Into the tide, and on the rising heights The ever-verdant pine laughed in the breeze. '! : i 1^, 1^' «i: I turned around, to gaze upon the scenes More perfectly, and there beheld a man Tall and erect, with feathers on his liead, And air and step majestic ; in his hands Held he a bow and arrows, and he would have passed, Intent on other scene, but that I spake to him : *• Pray, M'hither comest thou f and whither goest ?" " My coming," he rei)lied, " is from the Master of life, The Lord of all things, and I go at his commands.'' 328 THE RED MAN. " Then why," I further parleyed, " since thou art So mucli tlie friend of Hini, whom white men seek ]Jy prayer and rite so fervently to obey — why, tell, Art thou so oft in want of e'en a meal To satisfy the cravings of a man ? Why cast abroad To live in wilds, where oft the scantiest shajies Of foot and wing must fill thy board, while pallid hunger strays With hideous shouts, by mountain, vale, and stream ?" "Tlie Great Spirit," he replied, "hal.. .ot a ; Made all men ; or, if once alike, the force of climes, And wants and wanderings have estranged them (^uite. To me, and to my kind, forest, and lake, and wood, The rising mountain, and the drawn-out stream That sweeps, meandering, through wild ranges vast, Possess a charm no marble halls can give. Wo rove, as winds escaped the INIaster's fists — Now, sweeping over beds of prairie flowers — Now, dallying on the tops of leafy trees. Or murmuring in the corn-fields, and, when tired With roving, we lie down on beds where springs The simple wild flower, and some shreds of bark. Plucked from the white, white birch, defends our heads, And hides us from the blue ethereal skies. Where, in his sovereign majesty, this Spirit rules ; Now, casting lightning from his glowing eyes — Now, uttering thunder with his mighty voice. i I "To you, engendered in another clime Of wliich our fathers knew not, he hath given Arts, arms, and skill we know not, or if ever knew. Have quite forgot. Your hands are thickened up With toils of field and shop, where whirring wheels resound. And hammers clink. The anvil aud the plough Belong to you ; the very ox construes your speech, And turns him to obey you. All this toil We deem a slavery too heavy to be borne, And which our tribes revolt at. Oft we stand THE RED MAN. 329 To view the reeking smith, wlio pounds his iron With blow on blow, to fit it for the beast That drags your ploughshares through the rooty soil. The very streams — bright ribbons of the woods ! — are yoked, And made to turn your mills, and grind your corn ; And yet this progress stays not in its toils To alter nature and pervert her plans. Steam drags your vessels now, that onco Leapt in their beauty by the winds of heaven. Some subtle principle ye find in fire. And with a cunning art lit rattling cars To run on strips of iron, with scream and clang That seem symbolic of an angry power Which dwells below, and is infernal called. The war-crowned lightning skips from pole to pole On strings of iron, to haste with quick intelligence. "Once, nature could be hid, and fondly think She had some jewels in the earth, but now ye dig Into her very bowels, to recover morsels sweet She erst with deglutition had drawn in. The rocks Your toils dissolve, to find perchance some treasure Lying there. Is yonder land of gold alouo Your care ? Observe along these shores The wheezing engine clank — the stamper ring. Once, hawks and eagles here pursued their prey, But now the white man ravens more than they. Nol give me but my water and God's meats. And take your cares, your riches, and your thrones. What the Great Spirit gives, I take with joy. And scorn those gains which nothing can content. i! !■) i I i I % " Drudge ye, and grind ye, white man 1 make your pence, And store your purses with the shining poison. It was ^ ot Manito who made this trash To curse the human race, but Vatipa the black. Who rules below — he changed the blood of innocence And tears of pity into gold, and strewed it wide O'er lands where still the murderer digs 28* 330 THE SKELETON WRAPPED IN GOLD. And the (Te(*ei)tious dolve, to find tlio cockle out And pick it uiJ, but laughs the while to see What fools they are, and how himself has foiled The Spirit of Good, that made mankind Erst friends and brothers. Scanty is my food, But that sweet bird, chileelee, blue of wing. Sings songs of j^eace within the wild-wood dell And round the enchanted shores of these blue seas— Not long, perhaps, our own — which tell me of a rest In far-off lands — the islands of the blest !" t| THE SKELETON WRAPPED IN GOLD. In digging, in 1854, a railroad in Chili, seventy feet below the surface, in a sandy plain, which had been an ancient graveyard, an Indian skeleton, wrapped in a sheet of solid gold, rolled into the excavation. Its appearance denoted an ancient Inca, of the Atacama period. The Indian laid in his shroud of gold, Where his friends had kindly bound him ; For, in their raid so strong and bold, The Spaniards had never found him. Kind guardian spirits had watched him there, From ages long — long faded, Embalmed with gems and spices rare, And in folds of sweet grass braided. And priestly rites were duly done, And hymns upraised to bless him, And that gold mantle of the sun. Put on, as a monarch to dress him. " Sleep on," they said, in whispers low, " Nor fear the white man's coming. For we have put no glyph to show, The spot of thy entombing. ll THE SKELETON WRAPPED IN GOLD. 331 " Inca, thy warfare here is clone, Each bitter scene or tender, Go to thy sire, the shining Sun, In kingly garb and splendor. " Earth hath no honors thou hast not, Brave, wise, in every station, Or battle, temple, council, cot, Beloved of all tl y nation. " Take thou this wand of magic miglit. With signet-jewels glowing. As heralds to the God of Light, Where, father, thou art going. " A thousand years the charm shall last, The charm of thy ensealment, Till there shall come a spirit vast. To trouble thy concealment." And safe he slept in Tlalcol's* train, With all his genii by him. Through Atacama's pleasing reign, Ere Manco came a-nigh him. That golden reign spread arts anew. O'er all his Andes mountains. And temples that his sires ne'er knew, Arose beside their fountains. Pizarro's bloody day flew past. Nor shook his place of sleeping, Though, as with earthquakes, deep and vast. The land with ruins heaping. Nor had the cherished ruler more. Broke the deep trance from under, But that a stronger, sterner power. Arose the charm to sunder. * TIalcol, the keeper of the dead, corresponds to the Che- biabo of the Algontiuins. 332 WAUB OJEEO'S DEATH WHISPERINGS. No gentle genii more could wield, The wand of his dominion ; No power of Indian guardian yield, Or wave her golden pinion. It was the spirit of progress fell, And trade, and gain united, Who swore an oath, and kept it well. That Tlalcol's blessing blighted. Deep dug they down in Chili's hills. Deep — deeper laid their levels, To drive those cars, whose screaming fills The ear, with sounds like devils. And as they dug, they sang and dug. As digging for a treasure, That should, like dire Arabic drug. Rise, with unmeasured measure. Old Indian arts, and Indian spells. And all their subtle seeming. Passed quick away — as truth expels, The palsied power in dreaming. ill Down rolled the cherished Indian corse, The sands no more could hold him. Nor rite — nor genii — art or force. Nor golden shroud enfold him. WAUB OJEEG'S DEATH WHISPERINGS. I oo to the land where our heroes are gone, are gone, That land where our sages are gone ; And I go with bright tone, to join hearts who are one. That drew the bold dart at my side, at my side, Tliat drew the bold dart at my side. ] WAUB OJEEO'S DEATH WniSPERINGS. 333 Those lands in the bright beamy west, the west, Those lands in the bright beamy west, As our fathers foretold, are the plenty crowned fold. Where the world-weary warrior may rest, may rest, Where the war-honored hero may rest. My life has been given to war, to war, My strength has been offered to war. And the foes of my laud, ne'er before me could stand, But fled as base cowards iu fear, in fear, They fled like base cowards in fear. My warfare in life it is done, it is done, My warfare, my friends, it is done ; I go to that Spirit, whose form in the sky, So oft we have seen in the cloud-garnished sun, So oft in dread lightning espy. My friends, when my spirit is fled, is fled. My friends, when my spirit is fled. Ah, put me not bound, in the dark and cold ground, Where light shall no longer be shed, be shed. Where daylight no more shall be shed. But lay me up scaffolded high, all high, Chiefs, lay me up scaffolded high, Where my tribe shall still say, as they point to my clay, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly, to fly, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly. And children, who play on the shore, the shore, And children who play on the shore, As the war-dance they beat, my name shall repeat, And the fate of their chieftain deplore, deplore, And the fate of their chieftain deplore. 'J! 334 TO THE MISCODEED. TO THE MISCODEED.* Thy petals, tipped with red, declare The sanguinary rites of war ; But when I view thy base of white, Thoughts of heaven's purity invite. Symbols at once that hearts like thee Contain two powers, in whicli we see A passion strong to war inclined. And a soft, pure, and tender mind. \t Earliest of buds when snows decay From these wild northern fields away, Thou comest as a herald dear. To tell us that the spring is near ; And shall with sweets and flowers relume Our hearts, for all the winter's gloom. Soon the opeecheef comes to sing The pleasures of an early spring ; Soon shall the swelling water's roar Tell us that winter is no more ; The water-fowl set up their cry. Or hasten to more northern sky ; And on the sandy shore shall stray, The plover, the twee-tweesh-ke-way. Soon shall the budding trees expand. And genial skies pervade the land ; The little garden hoes shall peck. And female hands the moss beds deck ; The apple-tree refresh our sight. With its fair blows of pink and white ; The cherry bloom, the strawberry run, And joy fill all the new Seegwun.t * Spring beauty, C. Virg. t Robin. t Spring. I THE STAR FAMILY. 335 THE STAR FAMILY. Waupee found a deep-trod circle In the boundless prairie wide ; In the grassy sea of prairies, Without trace of path beside. To or fro, there was no token Man had ever trod the plain ; And he gazed upon the wonder, Gazed the wonder to explain. V I will watch tlie place, quoth Waupee, And conceal myself awhile ; This strange mystery to unravel, This new thing to reconcile. Tracks I know of deer and bison. Tracks uf panther, lynx, or hind, Beasts and birds of every nature, But this beaten ring is blind. Do the spirits here assemble. War-dance light to trip and sing? Gather Medas of the prairie. Here their magic charm to fling ? Waupee crept beneath the bushes, Near the wondrous magic ring ; Close beneath the shrubs and grasses, To behold so rare a thing. Soon he heard, high in the heavens. Issuing from the feathery clouds — Sounds of music, quick descending, As if angels came in crowds. 336 THE STAR FAMILY. Louder, sweeter, was the music. Every moment that he stayed ; Till a basket, with twelve sisters, Was with all its charms displayed. n if Down they came, in air suspended, As if by thin silver cords; And within the circle landed, Gay and bright as beauteous birds. Out they leaped with nimble gestures, Dancing softly round and round ; Each a ball of silver chiming. With the most enchanting sound. Beauteous were they all — but one so More than all the other eleven, Youngest she, he sighed to clasp her To his ardent, glowing breast. Up he rose from his concealment, From his flower-encircled bed ; But, as quick-oyed birds, they spied him, Stepped into the car and fled. Fled into the starry heavens, While with open ear ho stood, Drinking the receding music, A» it left his solitude. Now, indeed, was he a stranger, And a fugitive alone ; For the peace that once ho clierislu'd, With the lieaveuly car had llowii. Touched his heart was by love's fervors, He no longer wished to rovo ; Lost the charm of war and hunting, Waupee was transflxod by love. ^f THE STAR FAMILY. Ah ! 'tis love that wins the savage From his wanderings, and can teach, Where the truth could never touch him, Where the gospel could not reach. Long he mourned — and lingering, waited Round the charmed celestial ring ; Day hy day he lingered, hoping Once to hear those angels sing. To deceive, the quick eyes glancing, An opossum's form he tries ; And crouched low, beside the circle. Stooped, that he might win the prize. Soon the sounds ho heard descending, Soon they leaped within the ring ; Joining hand in hand in dancing. Round and round — sweet revelling. Up he rose, quick disenchanted, Rose and clasped his female star. While, as lightning, quick the eleven Leaped, and rose within their car. Home he took her to his wigwam. Sought each varied May to please ; Gave lier flowers and rarest presents, All to yield her joy and ease. And a beauteous son rewarded Love so constant, true, and mild ; Who renewed in every feature, Nature's lonely forest child. But, as thoughts of youth will linger Long within the heart's fond con^ ; So she nursed the pleasing passion, Her star-home to see once more — 337 i 29 f : 388 . THE STAR FAMILY. Made an ark of wicker branches, All by secret arts and care ; Sought the circle with her earth-boy, Fleeing to her Father star. There, at length, the boy grew weary, Weary e'en of heavenly spheres, Longing for earth's cares and pleasures, Hunting, feasting, joys, and tears. " Call thy husband," quoth the star chief, " Take the magic car and go ; But bring with thee some fit emblems, Of the sounding chase below. "Claw, or wing, or toe, or feathei-s, Scalp of bird or beast to tell ; Wliat he follows in the wood-chase, Arts the hunter knows so well." Waupee searched the deepest forests, rrairies vast, or valleys low ; All to find out the rarest species, That he might the star-world show. Tlion ho sought the ring of magic, With his forest stores so rare ; And within the starry basket. Rose 'vith all his emblems fair. Joys of greeting — ^joys of seeing — Hand to hand, and 4*ye to eye ; These o'ercrowned with smiles and laughing. This lodge-meeting in the sky. Then a glorious feast was ordered. To receive the forest guest ; While the HW»>et reunion lighted, Joy in every beating breast. SONG OP THE WOLF-BROTHER. Broad the feasting board was covered, The high starry group to bind ; When the star chief rose to utter His congratulations kind. " List, my guests— the Spirit wills it, Earth to earth, and sky to sky ; Choose ye each a claw or pinion, Such as ye may wish to try." Wondrous change ! by arts' trans fonnance, At the typic heavenly feast ; Each who chose a wing a bird was. Each who chose a claw, a beast. Oflf they ran on plains of silver, S(iuirrel, rabbit, elk, or deer ; White Hawk chose a wing, descending Down again to forests here, Where the Waupees are still noted For their high essays of wing ; And their noble deeds of bravery. In the forest, mount, and ring. 339 ii SONG OF THE WOLF-BROTIIER. Nesia, my elder brother. Bones have been my forest meal, Shared with wolves the long, long winter. And their nature now I feel. Ni'sia, my elder brother, Now my fate is near its close ; Soon my state shall cease to i)res8 me. Soon shall cease my day of woes. 340 SONG OF THE WOLF-BROTHER. Left by friends I loved the dearest, All who knew and loved me most ; Woes the darkest and severest, Bide me on this barren coast. Pity ! ah, that manly feeling, Fled from hearts where once it grew, Nov\r in wolfish forms revealing, Glows more warmly than in you. Stony hearts ! that saw me languish, Deaf to all a father said. Deaf to all a mother's anguish. All a brother's feelings fled. Ah, ye wolves, in all your ranging, I have found you kind and true ; More than man — and now I'm changing, And will soon be one of you. Lodge of kindred once respected. Now my heart abhors your plan ; Hated, shunned, disowned, neglected, Wolves are truer far than man. And like them, I'll be a rover, With an honesty of bite Tliat feigns not to be a lover. When the heart o'erflows with spite. Go, ye traitors, to my lodge-fire ; Go, ye serpents, swift to flee, War with kinds that have your natures, I am disenthrall'd and free. ABBINOCHI. 341 ABBINOCHI. A mother's chant to her sick infant. Abbinochi,* baby dear, Leave me not — ah, leave me not ; I have nursed with love sincere, Nursed thee in my forest cot — Tied thee in thy cradle trim Kind adjusting every limb ; With the fairest beads and bands Deck'd thy cradle with my hands, And with sweetest corn panad From my little kettle fed, Oft with miscodeedf roots shred, Fed thee in thy baby bed. Abbinochi, droop not so. Leave me not — away to go To strange lands— thy little feet Are not grown the path to greet Or lind out, with none io show Where the flowers of grave-land grow. Slay, my dear one, stay till grown, I will lead thee to that zone Where the stars like silver shine, And the scenes are all divine, And the happy, happy stray, And, like Abbinochi, play. * A child. t Claytonia Virginioa. 342 TO PAUaUK. TO PAUGUK. (This is the impersonation of death in Indian mythology. He ia rejireseuted with a bow and arrows.) Pauguk ! 'tis a scene of woe, This world of troubles ; let me go Arm'd to show forth the Master's will, Strike on thy purpose to fulfil. I fear not death — my only fear Is ills and woes that press me here. Want stares me in the face, or woe, Where'er I dwell — where'er I go ; Fishing and hunting only give The pinching means to let me live ; And if, at night, I lay me down. In dreams and sleep my rest to crown, Ere day awakes its slumbering eyes, I start to hear the foe's mad cries. Louder and louder, as I clutch My club, or lance, or bow and dart. And, springing with a panther's touch. Display the red mun's bloody art. Nay, I am sick of life and blood. That drowns my country like a flood. Pouring o'er hill, and vale, and lea, Lodge, ville, and council, like a sea. Where one must gasp and gasp for breath To live — and stay the power of death. Ah ! life's good things are all too poor. Its daily hardships to endure. My fathers told me, there's a land Where peace and joy abound in hand. And plenty smiles, and sweetest scenes Expand in lakes, and groves, and greens. No pain or hunger there is known. And pleasure reigns throughout alone — TO PAUGUK. I would go there, and taste and see A life so beauteous, bless 'd and free, Where man has no more power to kill, And the Great Spirit all things fills. Blanch not, Pauguk, I have no fear, And would not longer linger here ; But bend thy bow and aim thy dart, Behold an honest hunter's heart : Thereby a dart, a boon may give, A happy life on high to live. 'Tis all the same, in countries here, Or where Pacific billows roar. We roved in want, and woe and fear Along the Mississippi shore. And where Missouri's waters rush, To tell to man that God is strong, We shrank as from a tiger's touch, To hear the white man's shout or song. O not for us is peace and joy Arising from the race that spread. Their purpose only's to destroy — Our only peace is with the dead. Think not my heart is pale witli fear, But strike, Pauguk— strike boldly here. 343 ui