{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_21620/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_21620","id":"gutenberg_21620","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21620","summary":null,"tags":["Algonquian Indians -- Folklore","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Hiawatha, active 15th century","Indians of North America -- Folklore","Native America"],"text":"Produced by Julia Miller and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from scans of public domain material produced by\nMicrosoft for their Live Search Books site.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MYTH OF HIAWATHA,\n\n\nAND\n\n\nOTHER ORAL LEGENDS, MYTHOLOGIC AND ALLEGORIC,\n\nOF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.\n\n\n\nBY\n\nHENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT, LL.D.\n\n\nPHILADELPHIA:\nJ. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.\n\nLONDON:\nTRUeBNER & CO.\n\n1856.\n\n\n\n\nEntered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by\n\nHENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,\n\nin the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and\nfor the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.\n\n\n\n\n    TO PROF. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.\n\n\n    SIR:--\n\n    Permit me to dedicate to you, this volume of Indian myths and\n    legends, derived from the story-telling circle of the native\n    wigwams. That they indicate the possession, by the Vesperic tribes,\n    of mental resources of a very characteristic kind--furnishing, in\n    fact, a new point from which to judge the race, and to excite\n    intellectual sympathies, you have most felicitously shown in your\n    poem of Hiawatha. Not only so, but you have demonstrated, by this\n    pleasing series of pictures of Indian life, sentiment, and\n    invention, that the theme of the native lore reveals one of the\n    true sources of our literary independence. Greece and Rome, England\n    and Italy, have so long furnished, if they have not exhausted, the\n    field of poetic culture, that it is, at least, refreshing to find\n    both in theme and metre, something new.\n\n    Very truly yours,\n\n    HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\n\nThere is but one consideration of much moment necessary to be premised\nrespecting these legends and myths. It is this: they are versions of\noral relations from the lips of the Indians, and are transcripts of the\nthought and invention of the aboriginal mind. As such, they furnish\nillustrations of Indian character and opinions on subjects which the\never-cautious and suspicious minds of this people have, heretofore,\nconcealed. They place the man altogether in a new phasis. They reflect\nhim as he is. They show us what he believes, hopes, fears, wishes,\nexpects, worships, lives for, dies for. They are always true to the\nIndian manners and customs, opinions and theories. They never rise\nabove them; they never sink below them. Placing him in almost every\npossible position, as a hunter, a warrior, a magician, a pow-wow, a\nmedicine man, a meda, a husband, a father, a friend, a foe, a stranger,\na wild singer of songs to monedos or fetishes, a trembler in terror of\ndemons and wood genii, and of ghosts, witches, and sorcerers--now in\nthe enjoyment of plenty in feasts--now pale and weak with abstinence in\nfasts; now transforming beasts and birds, or plants and trees into men,\nor men into beasts by necromancy; it is impossible not to perceive what\nhe perpetually thinks, believes, and feels. The very language of the\nman is employed, and his vocabulary is not enlarged by words and\nphrases foreign to it. Other sources of information depict his exterior\nhabits and outer garb and deportment; but in these legends and myths,\nwe perceive the interior man, and are made cognizant of the secret\nworkings of his mind, and heart, and soul.\n\nTo make these collections, of which the portions now submitted are but\na part, the leisure hours of many seasons, passed in an official\ncapacity in the solitude of the wilderness far away from society, have\nbeen employed, with the study of the languages, and with the very best\ninterpreters. They have been carefully translated, written, and\nrewritten, to obtain their true spirit and meaning, expunging passages,\nwhere it was necessary to avoid tediousness of narration, triviality of\ncircumstance, tautologies, gross incongruities, and vulgarities; but\nadding no incident and drawing no conclusion, which the verbal\nnarration did not imperatively require or sanction. It was impossible\nto mistake the import of terms and phrases where the means of their\nanalysis were ample. If the style is sometimes found to be bald, and of\njejune simplicity, the original is characteristically so. Few\nadjectives are employed, because there are few in the original.[1] The\nIndian effects his purposes, almost entirely, by changes of the verb\nand demonstrative pronoun, or by adjective inflections of the\nsubstantive. Good and bad, high and low, black and white, are in all\ncases employed in a transitive sense, and with strict relation to the\nobjects characterized. The Indian compound terms are so descriptive, so\ngraphic, so local, so characterizing, yet so flexible and transpositive,\nthat the legends derive no little of their characteristic features as\nwell as melody of utterance from these traits. Sometimes these terms\ncannot be literally translated, and they cannot, in these cases, be\nleft out without damaging the stories.\n\nWith regard to the thought-work of the legends, those who have deemed\nthe Indians exclusively a cruel and blood-thirsty race, always seeking\nrevenge, always invoking evil powers, will not be disappointed that\ngiants, enchanters, demons, and dark supernatural agencies, should form\nso large a part of the dramatis personae. Surprise has been\nexpressed,[2] that the kindlier affections come in for notice at all,\nand particularly at the occurrence of such refined and terse allegories\nas the origin of Indian Corn, Winter and Spring, and the poetic\nconception of the Celestial Sisters, &c. I can only add, that my own\nsurprise was as great when these traits were first revealed. And the\ntrait may be quoted to show how deeply the tribes have wandered away\nfrom the type of the human race in which love and affection absorb the\nheart;[3] and how little, indeed, we know of their mental character.\n\nThese legends have been out of print several years. They are now\nreproduced, with additional legendary lore of this description from the\nportfolios of the author, in a revised, and, it is believed, a more\nterse, condensed, and acceptable form, both in a literary and business\ngarb.[4]\n\nHENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT.\n\nWashington, D.C., _April 28, 1856_.\n\n      [1] If Edwards the younger, to whom the Mohican was familiar from\n      his childhood, could say, that he doubted whether there were any\n      true adjectives in that language, it can easily be imagined that\n      the subtlety of the transitive principle had not been\n      sufficiently analyzed; but the remark is here quoted in relation\n      to the paucity of adjectives.\n\n      [2] _Vide_ Criterion.\n\n      [3] When the volumes of Algic Researches, in 1839, were\n      published, the book-trade had hardly awakened to that wide and\n      diffusive impulse which it has since received. No attention had\n      been given to topics so obscure as inquiries into the character\n      of the Indian mind--if, indeed, it was thought the Indian had any\n      mind at all. It was still supposed that the Indian was, at all\n      times and in all places, \"a stoic of the woods,\" always\n      statuesque, always formal, always passionless, always on stilts,\n      always speaking in metaphors, a cold embodiment of bravery,\n      endurance, and savage heroism. Writers depicted him as a man who\n      uttered nothing but high principles of natural right, who always\n      harangued eloquently, and was ready, with unmoved philosophy on\n      all occasions, to sing his death song at the stake to show the\n      world how a warrior should die.\n\n      [4] The songs and chants which form so striking a part of the\n      original legends, and also the poetic use of aboriginal ideas,\n      are transferred to the end of the volume, and will thus, it is\n      apprehended, relieve and simplify the text.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                 Page\n\nHiawatha; or, Manabozho                                            13\n\nPaup-puk-keewiss                                                   52\n\nOsseo; or, the Son of the Evening Star                             71\n\nKwasind; or, the fearfully Strong Man                              77\n\nThe Jeebi; or, Two Ghosts                                          81\n\nIagoo                                                              85\n\nShawondasee                                                        88\n\nPuck Wudj Ininees; or, the Vanishing Little Men                    90\n\nPezhiu and Wabose; or, the Lynx and Hare                           95\n\nPeboan and Seegwun. An Allegory of Winter and Spring               96\n\nMon-daw-min; or, the Origin of Indian Corn                         99\n\nNezhik-e-wa-wa-sun; or, the Lone Lightning                        105\n\nThe Ak Uk O Jeesh; or, the Groundhog Family                       107\n\nOpeechee; or, the Origin of the Robin                             109\n\nShingebiss. An Allegory of Self-reliance                          113\n\nThe Star Family; or, the Celestial Sisters                        116\n\nOjeeg Annung; or, the Summer-Maker                                121\n\nChileeli; or, the Red Lover                                       129\n\nSheem, the forsaken Boy, or Wolf Brother                          136\n\nMishemokwa; or, the War with the Gigantic Bear wearing\nthe precious prize of the Necklace of Wampum, or the\nOrigin of the Small Black Bear                                    142\n\nThe Red Swan                                                      161\n\nTau-wau-chee-hezkaw; or, the White Feather                        180\n\nPauguk, and the mythological interpretation of Hiawatha           188\n\nIena, the Wanderer; or, Magic Bundle                              194\n\nMishosha; or, the Magician of Lake Superior                       202\n\nPeeta Kway, the Foam-Woman                                        213\n\nPah-hah-undootah, the Red Head                                    216\n\nThe White Stone Canoe                                             223\n\nOnaiazo, the Sky-Walker. A Legend of a Visit to the Sun           228\n\nBosh-kwa-dosh; or, the Mastodon                                   233\n\nThe Sun-Catcher; or, the Boy who set a Snare for the Sun.\nA Myth of the Origin of the Dormouse                              239\n\nWa-wa-be-zo-win; or, the Swing on the Pictured Rocks of\nLake Superior                                                     243\n\nMukakee Mindemoea; or, the Toad-Woman                             246\n\nEroneniera; or, an Indian Visit to the Great Spirit               251\n\nThe Six Hawks; or, Broken Wing                                    258\n\nWeeng, the Spirit of Sleep                                        262\n\nAddik Kum Maig; or, the Origin of the White Fish                  265\n\nBokwewa; or, the Humpback Magician                                269\n\nAggodagauda and his Daughter; or, the Man with his Leg\ntied up                                                           274\n\nIosco; or, the Prairie Boys' Visit to the Sun and Moon            278\n\nThe Enchanted Moccasins                                           293\n\nLeelinau. A Chippewa Tale                                         299\n\n                    *      *      *      *      *\n\nWild Notes of the Pibbigwun                                       303\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nHitherto, Indian opinion, on abstract subjects, has been a sealed book.\nIt has been impossible to extract the truth from his evasive replies.\nIf asked his opinion of religion in the abstract, he knows not the true\nmeaning of the term. His ideas of the existence of a Deity are vague,\nat best; and the lines of separation between it and necromancy, medical\nmagic, and demonology are too faintly separated to allow him to speak\nwith discrimination. The best reply, as to his religious views, his\nmythology, his cosmogony, and his general views as to the mode and\nmanifestations of the government and providences of God, are to be\nfound in his myths and legends. When he assembles his lodge-circle, to\nhear stories, in seasons of leisure and retirement in the depths of the\nforest, he recites precisely what he believes on these subjects. That\nrestlessness, suspicion, and mistrust of motive, which has closed his\nmind to inquiry, is at rest here. If he mingles fiction with history,\nthere is little of the latter, and it is very easy to see where history\nends and fiction begins. While he amuses his hearers with tales of the\nadventures of giants and dwarfs, and the conflicts of Manito with\nManito, fairies and enchanters, monsters and demons, he also throws in\nsome few grains of instruction, in the form of allegory and fable,\nwhich enable us to perceive glimpses of the heart and its affections.\n\nIt is also by his myths that we are able to trace connections with the\nhuman family in other parts of the world. Yet, where the analogies are\nso general, there is a constant liability to mistakes. Of these foreign\nanalogies of myth lore, the least tangible, it is believed, is that\nwhich has been suggested with the Scandinavian mythology. That\nmythology is of so marked and peculiar a character, that it has not\nbeen distinctly traced out of the great circle of tribes of the\nIndo-Germanic family. Odin, and his terrific pantheon of war-gods and\nsocial deities, could only exist in the dreary latitudes of storms and\nfire, which produce a Hecla and a Maelstrom. These latitudes have\ninvariably produced nations, whose influence has been felt in an\nelevating power over the world; and whose tracks have everywhere been\nmarked by the highest evidences of inductive intellect, centralizing\nenergy, and practical wisdom and forecast. From such a source the\nIndian could have derived none of his vague symbolisms and mental\nidiosyncrasies, which have left him, as he is found to-day, without a\ngovernment and without a God. Far more probable is it, in seeking for\nanalogies to his mythology and cosmogony, to resort to the era of that\nprimal reconstruction of the theory of a Deity, when the human\nphilosophy in the oriental world ascribed the godship of the universe\nto the subtile, ineffable, and indestructible essences of fire and\nlight, as revealed in the sun. Such were the errors of the search for\ndivine truth, power, and a controllable Deity, which early developed\nthemselves in the dogmas of the Assyrians, Egyptians, Persians, and\nwandering hordes of Northern Asia.\n\nAuthors inform us that the worship of the sun lies at the foundation of\nall the ancient mythologies, deeply enveloped as they are, when\nfollowed over Asia Minor and Europe, in symbolic and linguistical\nsubtleties and refinements. The symbolical fires erected on temples and\naltars to Baal, Chemosh, and Moloch, burned brightly in the valley of\nthe Euphrates,[5] long before the pyramids of Egypt were erected, or\nits priestly-hoarded hieroglyphic wisdom resulted in a phonetic\nalphabet. In Persia, these altars were guarded and religiously fed by a\nconsecrated body of magical priesthood, who recognized a Deity in the\nessence of an eternal fire and a world-pervading light.\n\nThe same dogma, derived eastwardly and not westwardly through Europe,\nwas fully installed at Atacama and Cuzco, in Peru, at Cholulu, on the\nmagnificent and volcano-lighted peaks of Mexico; and along the fertile\ndeltas of the Mississippi valley. Altar-beds for a sacred fire, lit to\nthe Great Spirit, under the name and symbolic form of Ceezis, or the\nsun, where the frankincense of the nicotiana was offered, with hymns\nand genuflections, have been discovered, in many instances, under the\nearth-heaps and artificial mounds and places of sepulture of the\nancient inhabitants. Intelligent Indians yet living, among the North\nAmerican tribes, point out the symbol of the sun, in their ancient\nmuzzinabikons, or rock-inscriptions, and also amid the idiographic\ntracery and bark-scrolls of the hieratic and magical medicine songs.\n\nWith a cosmogony which ascribes the creation of the Geezha Monedo, who\nis symbolized by the sun, the myth of Hiawatha is almost a necessary\nconsequence in carrying out his mundane intentions to the tribes, who\nbelieved themselves to be peculiar objects of his love and benevolence.\nThis myth is noticed by the earliest explorers of this continent, who\nhave bestowed attention on the subject, under the various names of\nInigorio, Yoskika, Taren-Yawagon, Atahentsic, Manabozho, and Micabo. A\nmythology appears indispensable to a rude and ignorant race like the\nIndians. Their vocabulary is nearly limited to objects which can be\nseen and handled. Abstractions are only reached by the introduction of\nsome term which restores the idea. The Deity is a mystery, of whose\npower they must chiefly judge by the phenomena before them. Everything\nis mysterious which is not understood; and, unluckily, they understand\nlittle or nothing. If any phenomenon, or existence not before them, is\nto be described, the language must be symbolic. The result is, that the\nIndian languages are peculiarly the languages of symbols, metaphors,\nand figures. Without this feature, everything not in the departments of\neating, drinking, and living, and the ordinary transactions of the\nchase and forest, would not be capable of description.\n\nWhen the Great Sacred White Hare of Heaven, the Manabozho of the\nAlgrics, and Hiawatha of the Iroquois, kills the Great Misshikinabik,\nor prince of serpents, it is understood that he destroys the great\npower of evil. It is a deity whom he destroys, a sort of Typhon or\nAhriman in the system. It is immediately found, on going to his lodge,\nthat it is a man, a hero, a chief, who is sick, and he must be cured by\nsimples and magic songs like the rest of the Indians. He is surrounded\nwith Indian doctors, who sing magic songs. He has all the powers of a\ndeity, and, when he dies, the land is subjected to a flood; from which\nHiawatha alone escapes. This play between the zoonic and mortal shapes\nof heroes must constantly be observed, in high as well as in ordinary\ncharacters. To have the name of an animal, or bird, or reptile, is to\nhave his powers. When Pena runs, on a wager of life, with the Great\nSorcerer, he changes himself sometimes into a partridge, and sometimes\ninto a wolf, to outrun him.\n\nThe Indian's necessities of language at all times require\npersonifications and linguistic creations. He cannot talk on abstract\ntopics without them. Myths and spiritual agencies are constantly\nrequired. The ordinary domestic life of the Indian is described in\nplain words and phrases, but whatever is mysterious or abstract must be\nbrought under mythological figures and influences. Birds and quadrupeds\nmust be made to talk. Weeng is the spirit of somnolency in the lodge\nstories. He is provided with a class of little invisible emissaries,\nwho ascend the forehead, armed with tiny war-clubs, with which they\nstrike the temples, producing sleep. Pauguk is the personification of\ndeath. He is armed with a bow and arrows, to execute his mortal\nfunctions. Hosts of a small fairy-like creation, called Ininees, little\nmen, or Pukwudj Ininees, vanishing little men, inhabit cliffs, and\npicturesque and romantic scenes. Another class of marine or water\nspirits, called Nebunabaigs, occupy the rivers and lakes. There is an\narticulate voice in all the varied sounds of the forest--the groaning\nof its branches, and the whispering of its leaves. Local Manitos, or\nfetishes, inhabit every grove; and hence he is never alone.\n\nTo facilitate allusion to the braggadocio, or the extravagant in\nobservation, the mythos of Iagoo is added to his vocabulary. The North\nand the South, the East and the West, are prefigured as the brothers of\nHiawatha, or the laughter-provoking Manubozho. It is impossible to\nperuse the Indian myths and legends without perceiving the governing\nmotives of his reasons, hopes, wishes, and fears, the principles of his\nactions, and his general belief in life, death, and immortality. He is\nno longer an enigma. They completely unmask the man. They lay open his\nmost secret theories of the phenomena of spirit life; of necromancy,\nwitchcraft, and demonology; and, in a special manner, of the deep and\nwide-spread prevalence throughout the world of Indian opinion, of the\ntheory and power of local Manitos. It is here that the Indian prophet,\npowwow, or jossakeed, throws off his mask, and the Indian religionist\ndiscloses to us the secrets of his fasts and dreams. His mind\ncompletely unbends itself, and the man lives over, in imagination, both\nthe sweet and the bitter scenes of a hunter's life. To him the clouds,\nwhich chase each other, in brilliant hues and constantly changing\nforms, in the heavens, constitute a species of wild pictography, which\nhe can interpret. The phenomena of storms and meteorological changes\nconnect themselves, in the superstitious mind, with some engrossing\nmythos or symbol. The eagle, the kite, and the hawk, who fly to great\nheights, are deemed to be conversant with the aerial powers, who are\nbelieved to have an influence over men, and hence the great regard\nwhich is paid to the flight of these birds in their war and hieratic\nsongs.\n\nFictitious tales of imaginary Indian life, and poems on the aboriginal\nmodel, have been in vogue almost from the days of the discovery. But\nwhat has been fancied as life in the forest, has had no little\nresemblance to those Utopian schemes of government and happiness which\nrather denote the human mind run mad, than supply models to guide\njudgment or please philosophy. In general, these attempts have held up\nhigh principles of thought and action in a people, against truth,\nobservation, and common sense. High heroic action, in the Indian, is\nthe result of personal education in endurance, supported by pride of\ncharacter; and if he can ever be said to rejoice in suffering, it is in\nthe spirit of a taunt to his enemy. This error had been so long\nprevalent, that when, in 1839, the author submitted a veritable\ncollection of legends and myths from the Indian wigwams, which\nreflected the Indian life as it is, it was difficult, and almost\nimpossible, to excite interest in the theme, in the trade. He went to\nEngland and the continent, in hopes of better success. But, although\nphilanthropists and men of letters and science appreciated the subject,\nas historical elements in the history of the human mind, the\nbooksellers of London, Paris, Leipsic, and Frankfort-on-the-Main, to\nwhose notice the subject was brought, exhibited very nearly the same\nnonchalant tone; and had it not been for the attractive poetic form in\nwhich one of our most popular and successful bards has clothed some of\nthese wild myths, the period of their reproduction is likely to have\nbeen still further postponed.\n\nIn now submitting so large a body of matter, respecting the mental\ngarniture of a people whose fate and fortunes have excited so much\ninterest, the surprise is not that we know so little of their mental\ntraits, but that, with so little research and inquiry, we should know\nanything at all. They have only been regarded as the geologist regards\nboulders, being not only out of place, but with not half the sure\nguides and principles of determining where they came from, and where\nthe undisturbed original strata remain. The wonder is not that, as\nboulder-tribes, they have not adopted our industry and Christianity,\nand stoutly resisted civilization, in all its phases, but that, in\nspite of such vital truths, held up by all the Colonies and States, and\nby every family of them, they have not long since died out and become\nextinguished. No English colony could live three or four centuries, in\nany isolated part of the world, without the plough, the school-book,\nand the Bible; it would die out, of idleness and ignorance. If one\ncentury has kicked the Indian in America harder than another, it is\nbecause the kicks of labor, art, and knowledge are always the hardest,\nand in the precise proportion to the contiguity of the object.\n\nBy obtaining--what these legends give--a sight of the inner man, we are\nbetter able to set a just estimate on his character, and to tell what\nmeans of treatment are best suited for his reclamation. That\nforbearance, kindness, and teaching are best adapted to the object,\nthere is no doubt. We are counselled to forgive an erring brother\nseventy and seven times. If, as some maintain, wrongfully, we believe,\nthe Indian is not, in a genealogical sense, of the same stock, yet is\nhe not, in a moral sense, a brother? If the knowledge of his\nstory-telling faculty has had any tendency to correct the evils of\nfalse popular opinion respecting him, it has been to show that the man\ntalks and laughs like the rest of the human family; that it is fear\nthat makes him suspicious, and ignorance superstitious; that he is\nhimself the dupe of an artful forest priesthood; and that his cruelty\nand sanguinary fury are the effects of false notions of fame, honor,\nand glory. He is always, and at all times and places, under the strong\ninfluence of hopes and fears, true or false, by which he is carried\nforward in the changing scenes of war and peace. Kindness never fails\nto soften and meliorate his feelings, and harshness, injury, and\ncontempt to harden and blunt them. Above all, it is shown that, in the\nrecesses of the forest, he devotes a portion of his time to domestic\nand social enjoyment, in which the leading feature is the relation of\ntraditionary legends and tales. Heroes and heroines, giants and dwarfs,\nspirits, Monetos or local gods, demons, and deities pass in review. It\nis chiefly by their misadventures and violations of the Indian\ntheories, that the laugh is sought to be raised. The _dramatis personae_\nare true transcripts of Indian life; they never rise above it, or\nexpress a sentiment or opinion which is not true to Indian society; nor\ndo they employ words which are not known to their vocabulary. It is in\nthese legends that we obtain their true views of life and death, their\nreligion, their theory of the state of the dead, their mythology, their\ncosmogony, their notions of astrology, and often of their biography and\nhistory--for the boundaries between history and fiction are vaguely\ndefined. These stories are often told, in seasons of great severity in\nthe depth of the winter, to an eagerly listening group, to while away\nthe hour, and divert attention from the pressing claims of hunger.\nUnder such circumstances to dole away time which has no value to him,\nand to cheat hunger and want, is esteemed a trait of philosophy. If\nthere is a morsel to eat in the lodge, it is given to the children. The\nwomen imitate this stoicism and devotion of the men. Not a tone in the\nnarration tells of dismay in their domestic circumstances, not an eye\nacknowledges the influence of grief. Tell me whether the dignity of\nthis position is not worthy of remembrance. The man, it may be, shall\npass away from the earth, but these tributes to the best feelings of\nthe heart will remain, while these simple tales and legendary creations\nconstitute a new point of character by which he should be judged. They\nare, at least, calculated to modify our views of the man, who is not\nalways a savage, not always a fiend.\n\n      [5] Gross.\n\n\n\n\nHIAWATHA;\n\nOR,\n\nMANABOZHO.\n\n\nThe myth of the Indians of a remarkable personage, who is called\nManabozho by the Algonquins, and Hiawatha by the Iroquois, who was the\ninstructor of the tribes in arts and knowledge, was first related to me\nin 1822, by the Chippewas of Lake Superior. He is regarded as the\nmessenger of the Great Spirit, sent down to them in the character of a\nwise man, and a prophet. But he comes clothed with all the attributes\nof humanity, as well as the power of performing miraculous deeds. He\nadapts himself perfectly to their manners, and customs, and ideas. He\nis brought up from a child among them. He is made to learn their mode\nof life. He takes a wife, builds a lodge, hunts and fishes like the\nrest of them, sings his war songs and medicine songs, goes to war, has\nhis triumphs, has his friends and foes, suffers, wants, hungers, is in\ndread or joy--and, in fine, undergoes all the vicissitudes of his\nfellows. His miraculous gifts and powers are always adapted to his\nsituation. When he is swallowed by a great fish, with his canoe, he\nescapes by the exertion of these powers, but always, as much as\npossible, in accordance with Indian maxims and means. He is provided\nwith a magic canoe, which goes where it is bid; yet, in his fight with\nthe great wampum prince, he is counselled by a woodpecker to know where\nthe vulnerable point of his antagonist lies. He rids the earth of\nmonsters and giants, and clears away windfalls, and obstructions to the\nnavigation of streams. But he does not do these feats by miracles; he\nemploys strong men to help him. When he means to destroy the great\nserpents, he changes himself into an old tree, and stands on the beach\ntill they come out of the water to bask in the sun. Whatever man could\ndo, in strength or wisdom, he could do. But he never does things above\nthe comprehension or belief of his people; and whatever else he is, he\nis always true to the character of an Indian.\n\nThis myth is one of the most general in the Indian country. It is the\nprime legend of their mythology. He is talked of in every winter\nlodge--for the winter season is the only time devoted to such\nnarrations. The moment the leaves come out, stories cease in the lodge.\nThe revival of spring in the botanical world opens, as it were, so many\neyes and ears to listen to the tales of men; and the Indian is far too\nshrewd a man, and too firm a believer in the system of invisible\nspirits by which he is surrounded, to commit himself by saying a word\nwhich they, with their acute senses on the opening of the spring, can\nbe offended at.\n\nHe leaps over extensive regions of country like an ignis fatuus. He\nappears suddenly like an avatar, or saunters over weary wastes a poor\nand starving hunter. His voice is at one moment deep and sonorous as a\nthunder-clap, and at another clothed with the softness of feminine\nsupplication. Scarcely any two persons agree in all the minor\ncircumstances of the story, and scarcely any omit the leading traits.\nThe several tribes who speak dialects of the mother language from which\nthe narration is taken, differ, in like manner, from each other in the\nparticulars of his exploits. His birth and parentage are mysterious.\nStory says his grandmother was the daughter of the moon. Having been\nmarried but a short time, her rival attracted her to a grape-vine swing\non the banks of a lake, and by one bold exertion pitched her into its\ncentre, from which she fell through to the earth. Having a daughter,\nthe fruit of her lunar marriage, she was very careful in instructing\nher, from early infancy, to beware of the west wind, and never, in\nstooping, to expose herself to its influence. In some unguarded moment\nthis precaution was neglected. In an instant, the gale accomplished its\nTarquinic purpose.\n\nVery little is told of his early boyhood. We take him up in the\nfollowing legend at a period of advanced youth, when we find him living\nwith his grandmother. And at this time he possessed, although he had not\nyet _exercised_, all the anomalous and contradictory powers of body and\nmind, of manship and divinity, which he afterward evinced. The timidity\nand rawness of the boy quickly gave way in the courageous developments\nof the man. He soon evinced the sagacity, cunning, perseverance, and\nheroic courage which constitute the admiration of the Indians. And he\nrelied largely upon these in the gratification of an ambitious,\nvainglorious, and mischief-loving disposition. In wisdom and energy he\nwas superior to any one who had ever lived before. Yet he was simple\nwhen circumstances required it, and was ever the object of tricks and\nridicule in others. He could transform himself into any animal he\npleased, being man or manito, as circumstances rendered necessary. He\noften conversed with animals, fowls, reptiles, and fishes. He deemed\nhimself related to them, and invariably addressed them by the term \"my\nbrother;\" and one of his greatest resources, when hard pressed, was to\nchange himself into their shapes.\n\nManitoes constitute the great power and absorbing topic of Indian lore.\nTheir agency is at once the groundwork of their mythology and\ndemonology. They supply the machinery of their poetic inventions, and\nthe belief in their multitudinous existence exerts a powerful influence\nupon the lives and character of individuals. As their manitoes are of\nall imaginary kinds, grades, and powers, benign and malicious, it seems\na grand conception among the Indians to create a personage strong\nenough in his necromantic and spiritual powers to baffle the most\nmalicious, beat the stoutest, and overreach the most cunning. In\ncarrying out this conception in the following myth, they have, however,\nrather exhibited an incarnation of the power of Evil than of the genius\nof Benevolence.\n\nManabozho was living with his grandmother near the edge of a wide\nprairie. On this prairie he first saw animals and birds of every kind.\nHe there also saw exhibitions of divine power in the sweeping tempests,\nin the thunder and lightning, and the various shades of light and\ndarkness, which form a never-ending scene of observation. Every new\nsight he beheld in the heavens was a subject of remark; every new\nanimal or bird an object of deep interest; and every sound uttered by\nthe animal creation a new lesson, which he was expected to learn. He\noften trembled at what he heard and saw. To this scene his grandmother\nsent him at an early age to watch. The first sound he heard was that of\nthe owl, at which he was greatly terrified, and, quickly descending the\ntree he had climbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge. \"Noko! Noko!\"[6]\nhe cried, \"I have heard a monedo.\" She laughed at his fears, and asked\nhim what kind of a noise it made. He answered, \"It makes a noise like\nthis: Ko-ko-ko-ho.\" She told him that he was young and foolish; that\nwhat he had heard was only a bird, deriving its name from the noise it\nmade.\n\nHe went back and continued his watch. While there, he thought to\nhimself, \"It is singular that I am so simple, and my grandmother so\nwise, and that I have neither father nor mother. I have never heard a\nword about them. I must ask and find out.\" He went home and sat down\nsilent and dejected. At length his grandmother asked him, \"Manabozho,\nwhat is the matter with you?\" He answered, \"I wish you would tell me\nwhether I have any parents living, and who my relatives are.\" Knowing\nthat he was of a wicked and revengeful disposition, she dreaded telling\nhim the story of his parentage, but he insisted on her compliance.\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"you have a father and three brothers living. Your\nmother is dead. She was taken without the consent of her parents by\nyour father the West. Your brothers are the North, East, and South,\nand, being older than yourself, your father has given them great power\nwith the winds, according to their names. You are the youngest of his\nchildren. I have nourished you from your infancy, for your mother died\nin giving you birth, owing to the ill treatment of your father. I have\nno relations besides you this side of the planet in which I was born,\nand from which I was precipitated by female jealousy. Your mother was\nmy only child, and you are my only hope.\"\n\nHe appeared to be rejoiced to hear that his father was living, for he\nhad already thought in his heart to try and kill him. He told his\ngrandmother he should set out in the morning to visit him. She said it\nwas a long distance to the place where Ningabiun[7] lived. But that had\nno effect to stop him, for he had now attained manhood, possessed a\ngiant's height, and was endowed by nature with a giant's strength and\npower. He set out and soon reached the place, for every step he took\ncovered a large surface of ground. The meeting took place on a high\nmountain in the West. His father was very happy to see him. He also\nappeared pleased. They spent some days in talking with each other. One\nevening Manabozho asked his father what he was most afraid of on earth.\nHe replied, \"Nothing.\" \"But is there not something you dread here? tell\nme.\" At last his father said, yielding, \"Yes, there is a black stone\nfound in such a place. It is the only thing earthly I am afraid of; for\nif it should hit me or any part of my body, it would injure me very\nmuch.\" He said this as a secret, and in return asked his son the same\nquestion. Knowing each other's power, although the son's was limited,\nthe father feared him on account of his great strength. Manabozho\nanswered, \"Nothing!\" intending to avoid the question, or to refer to\nsome harmless object as the one of which he was afraid. He was asked\nagain and again, and answered, \"Nothing!\" But the West said, \"There must\nbe something you are afraid of.\" \"Well! I will tell you,\" says\nManabozho, \"what it is.\" But, before he would pronounce the word, he\naffected great dread. \"_Ie-ee_--_Ie-ee_--it is--it is,\" said he, \"yeo!\nyeo![8] I cannot name it; I am seized with a dread.\" The West told him\nto banish his fears. He commenced again, in a strain of mock\nsensitiveness repeating the same words; at last he cried out, \"It is the\nroot of the _apukwa_.\"[9] He appeared to be exhausted by the effort of\npronouncing the word, in all this skilfully acting a studied part.\n\nSome time after he observed, \"I will get some of the black rock.\" The\nWest said, \"Far be it from you; do not do so, my son.\" He still\npersisted. \"Well,\" said the father, \"I will also get the apukwa root.\"\nManabozho immediately cried out, \"_Kago! Kago!_\"[10] affecting, as\nbefore, to be in great dread of it, but really wishing, by this course,\nto urge on the West to procure it, that he might draw him into combat.\nHe went out and got a large piece of the black rock, and brought it\nhome. The West also took care to bring the dreaded root.\n\nIn the course of conversation he asked his father whether he had been\nthe cause of his mother's death. The answer was \"Yes!\" He then took up\nthe rock and struck him. Blow led to blow, and here commenced an\nobstinate and furious combat, which continued several days. Fragments\nof the rock, broken off under Manabozho's blows, can be seen in various\nplaces to this day.\"[11] The root did not prove as mortal a weapon as\nhis well-acted fears had led his father to expect, although he suffered\nseverely from the blows. This battle commenced on the mountains. The\nWest was forced to give ground. Manabozho drove him across rivers, and\nover mountains and lakes, and at last he came to the brink of this\nworld.\n\n\"Hold!\" cried he, \"my son; you know my power, and that it is impossible\nto kill me. Desist, and I will also portion you out with as much power\nas your brothers. The four quarters of the globe are already occupied;\nbut you can go and do a great deal of good to the people of this earth,\nwhich is infested with large serpents, beasts, and monsters,[12] who\nmake great havoc among the inhabitants. Go and do good. You have the\npower now to do so, and your fame with the beings of this earth will\nlast forever. When you have finished your work, I will have a place\nprovided for you. You will then go and sit with your brother\nKabibboonocca in the north.\"\n\nManabozho was pacified. He returned to his lodge, where he was confined\nby the wounds he had received. But from his grandmother's skill in\nmedicines he was soon recovered. She told him that his grandfather,\nwho had come to the earth in search of her, had been killed by\nMegissogwon,[13] who lived on the opposite side of the great lake. \"When\nhe was alive,\" she continued, \"I was never without oil to put on my\nhead, but now my hair is fast falling off for the want of it.\" \"Well!\"\nsaid he, \"Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, whilst I make a\ncanoe.\" When all was ready, he went out to the middle of the lake to\nfish. He put his line down, saying, \"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai (the name of the\nkingfish), take hold of my bait.\" He kept repeating this for some time.\nAt last the king of the fishes said, \"Manabozho troubles me. Here,\nTrout, take hold of his line.\" The trout did so. He then commenced\ndrawing up his line, which was very heavy, so that his canoe stood\nnearly perpendicular; but he kept crying out, \"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\"\ntill he could see the trout. As soon as he saw him, he spoke to him.\n\"Why did you take hold of my hook? Esa! esa![14] you ugly fish.\" The\ntrout, being thus rebuked, let go.\n\nManabozho put his line again in the water, saying, \"King of fishes,\ntake hold of my line.\" But the king of the fishes told a monstrous\nsunfish to take hold of it; for Manabozho was tiring him with his\nincessant calls. He again drew up his line with difficulty, saying as\nbefore, \"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\" while his canoe was turning in swift\ncircles. When he saw the sunfish, he cried, \"Esa! esa! you odious fish!\nwhy did you dirty my hook by taking it in your mouth? Let go, I say,\nlet go.\" The sunfish did so, and told the king of fishes what Manabozho\nsaid. Just at that moment the bait came near the king, and hearing\nManabozho continually crying out, \"Me-she nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my\nhook,\" at last he did so, and allowed himself to be drawn up to the\nsurface, which he had no sooner reached than, at one mouthful, he took\nManabozho and his canoe down. When he came to himself, he found that he\nwas in the fish's belly, and also his canoe. He now turned his thoughts\nto the way of making his escape. Looking in his canoe, he saw his\nwar-club, with which he immediately struck the heart of the fish. He\nthen felt a sudden motion, as if he were moving with great velocity.\nThe fish observed to the others, \"I am sick at stomach for having\nswallowed this dirty fellow Manabozho.\" Just at this moment he received\nanother severe blow on the heart. Manabozho thought, \"If I am thrown up\nin the middle of the lake, I shall be drowned; so I must prevent it.\"\nHe drew his canoe and placed it across the fish's throat, and just as\nhe had finished the fish commenced vomiting, but to no effect. In this\nhe was aided by a squirrel, who had accompanied him unperceived until\nthat moment. This animal had taken an active part in helping him to\nplace his canoe across the fish's throat. For this act he named him,\nsaying, \"For the future, boys shall always call you Ajidaumo.\"[15]\n\nHe then renewed his attack upon the fish's heart, and succeeded, by\nrepeated blows, in killing him, which he first knew by the loss of\nmotion, and by the sound of the beating of the body against the shore.\nHe waited a day longer to see what would happen. He heard birds\nscratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He\ncould see the heads of gulls, who were looking in by the opening they\nhad made. \"Oh!\" cried Manabozho, \"my younger brothers, make the opening\nlarger, so that I can get out.\" They told each other that their brother\nManabozho was inside of the fish. They immediately set about enlarging\nthe orifice, and in a short time liberated him. After he got out he\nsaid to the gulls, \"For the future you shall be called Kayoshk[16] for\nyour kindness to me.\"\n\nThe spot where the fish happened to be driven ashore was near his\nlodge. He went up and told his grandmother to go and prepare as much\noil as she wanted. All besides, he informed her, he should keep for\nhimself.\n\nSome time after this, he commenced making preparations for a war\nexcursion against the Pearl Feather, the Manito who lived on the\nopposite side of the great lake, who had killed his grandfather. The\nabode of this spirit was defended, first, by fiery serpents, who hissed\nfire so that no one could pass them; and, in the second place, by a\nlarge mass of gummy matter lying on the water, so soft and adhesive,\nthat whoever attempted to pass, or whatever came in contact with it,\nwas sure to stick there.\n\nHe continued making bows and arrows without number, but he had no heads\nfor his arrows. At last Noko told him that an old man who lived at some\ndistance could make them. He sent her to get some. She soon returned\nwith her conaus or wrapper full.[17] Still he told her he had not\nenough, and sent her again. She returned with as much more. He thought\nto himself, \"I must find out the way of making these heads.\" Cunning and\ncuriosity prompted him to make the discovery. But he deemed it necessary\nto deceive his grandmother in so doing. \"Noko,\" said he, \"while I take\nmy drum and rattle, and sing my war songs, go and try to get me some\n_larger_ heads for my arrows, for those you brought me are all of the\nsame size. Go and see whether the old man cannot make some a little\nlarger.\" He followed her as she went, keeping at a distance, and saw the\nold artificer at work, and so discovered his process. He also beheld the\nold man's daughter, and perceived that she was very beautiful. He felt\nhis breast beat with a new emotion, but said nothing. He took care to\nget home before his grandmother, and commenced singing as if he had\nnever left his lodge. When the old woman came near, she heard his drum\nand rattle, without any suspicion that he had followed her. She\ndelivered him the arrow-heads.\n\nOne evening the old woman said, \"My son, you ought to _fast_ before you\ngo to war, as your brothers frequently do, to find out whether you will\nbe successful or not.\"[18] He said he had no objection, and immediately\ncommenced a fast for several days. He would retire every day from the\nlodge so far as to be out of reach of his grandmother's voice. It seems\nshe had indicated this spot, and was very anxious he should fast there,\nand not at another place. She had a secret motive, which she carefully\nhid from him. Deception always begets suspicion. After a while he\nthought to himself, \"I must find out why my grandmother is so anxious\nfor me to fast at this spot.\" Next evening he went but a short distance.\nShe cried out, \"A little farther off;\" but he came nearer to the lodge,\nand cried out in a low, counterfeited voice, to make it appear that he\nwas distant. She then replied, \"That is far enough.\" He had got so near\nthat he could see all that passed in the lodge. He had not been long in\nhis place of concealment, when a paramour in the shape of a bear entered\nthe lodge. He had very long hair. They commenced talking about him, and\nappeared to be improperly familiar. At that time people lived to a very\ngreat age, and he perceived, from the marked attentions of this visitor,\nthat he did not think a grandmother too old to be pleased with such\nattentions. He listened to their conversation some time. At last he\ndetermined to play the visitor a trick. He took some fire, and when the\nbear had turned his back, touched his long hair. When the animal felt\nthe flame, he jumped out, but the open air only made it burn the\nfiercer, and he was seen running off in a full blaze.\n\nManabozho ran to his customary place of fasting, and assuming a tone of\nsimplicity, began to cry out, \"Noko! Noko! is it time for me to come\nhome?\" \"Yes,\" she cried. When he came in she told him what had taken\nplace, at which he appeared to be very much surprised.\n\nAfter having finished his term of fasting and sung his war-song--from\nwhich the Indians of the present day derive the custom--he embarked in\nhis canoe, fully prepared for war. In addition to the usual implements,\nhe had a plentiful supply of oil. He travelled rapidly night and day,\nfor he had only to will or speak, and the canoe went. At length he\narrived in sight of the fiery serpents. He stopped to view them. He saw\nthey were some distance apart, and that the flame only which issued\nfrom them reached across the pass. He commenced talking as a friend to\nthem; but they answered, \"We know you, Manabozho, you cannot pass.\" He\nthen thought of some expedient to deceive them, and hit upon this. He\npushed his canoe as near as possible. All at once he cried out, with a\nloud and terrified voice, \"What is that behind you?\" The serpents\ninstantly turned their heads, when, at a single word, he passed them.\n\"Well!\" said he, placidly, after he had got by, \"how do you like my\nexploit?\" He then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim\nshot them, which was easily done, for the serpents were stationary, and\ncould not move beyond a certain spot. They were of enormous length and\nof a bright color.\n\nHaving overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his magic canoe\ntill he came to a soft gummy portion of the lake, called Pigiu-wagumee\nor Pitchwater. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then\npushed into it. The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip\nthrough it with ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and a\nconstant reapplication of the oil. Just as his oil failed, he extricated\nhimself from this impediment, and was the first person who ever\nsucceeded in overcoming it.\n\nHe now came in view of land, on which he debarked in safety, and could\nsee the lodge of the Shining Manito, situated on a hill. He commenced\npreparing for the fight, putting his arrows and clubs in order, and\njust at the dawn of day began his attack, yelling and shouting, and\ncrying with triple voices, \"Surround him! surround him! run up! run\nup!\" making it appear that he had many followers. He advanced crying\nout, \"It was you that killed my grandfather,\" and with this shot his\narrows. The combat continued all day. Manabozho's arrows had no effect,\nfor his antagonist was clothed with pure wampum. He was now reduced to\nthree arrows, and it was only by extraordinary agility that he could\nescape the blows which the Manito kept making at him. At that moment a\nlarge woodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past, and lit on a tree. \"Manabozho,\"\nhe cried, \"your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of\nhair on the crown of his head.\" He shot his first arrow so as only to\ndraw blood from that part. The Manito made one or two unsteady steps,\nbut recovered himself. He began to parley, but, in the act, received a\nsecond arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered.\nIn so doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a\nchance to fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him\na lifeless corpse to the ground. Manabozho uttered his saw-saw-quan,\nand taking his scalp as a trophy, he called the woodpecker to come and\nreceive a reward for his information. He took the blood of the Manito\nand rubbed it on the woodpecker's[19] head, the feathers of which are\nred to this day.\n\nAfter this victory he returned home, singing songs of triumph and\nbeating his drum. When his grandmother heard him, she came to the shore\nand welcomed him with songs and dancing. Glory fired his mind. He\ndisplayed the trophies he had brought in the most conspicuous manner,\nand felt an unconquerable desire for other adventures. He felt himself\nurged by the consciousness of his power to new trials of bravery, skill,\nand necromantic prowess. He had destroyed the Manito of Wealth, and\nkilled his guardian serpents, and eluded all his charms. He did not long\nremain inactive. His next adventure was upon the water, and proved him\nthe prince of fishermen. He captured a fish of such monstrous size, that\nthe fat and oil he obtained from it formed a small lake. He therefore\ninvited all the animals and fowls to a banquet, and he made the order in\nwhich they partook of this repast the measure of their fatness. As fast\nas they arrived, he told them to plunge in. The bear came first, and was\nfollowed by the deer, opossum, and such other animals as are noted for\ntheir peculiar fatness at certain seasons. The moose and bison came\ntardily. The partridge looked on till the reservoir was nearly\nexhausted. The hare and marten came last, and these animals have,\nconsequently, no fat. When this ceremony was over, he told the assembled\nanimals and birds to dance, taking up his drum and crying, \"New songs\nfrom the south, come, brothers, dance.\" He directed them to pass in a\ncircle around him, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When he saw a\nfat fowl pass by him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the same time\nbeating his drum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown the noise\nof the fluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration, \"That's the\nway, my brothers, _that's_ the way.\" At last a small duck (the diver),\nthinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what he was\ndoing. Giving a spring, and crying \"Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is killing us,\"\nhe made for the water. Manabozho followed him, and, just as the duck was\ngetting into the water, gave him a kick, which is the cause of his back\nbeing flattened and his legs being straightened out backward, so that\nwhen he gets on land he cannot walk, and his tail feathers are few.\nMeantime the other birds flew off, and the animals ran into the woods.\n\nAfter this Manabozho set out to travel. He wished to outdo all others,\nand to see new countries. But after walking over America and\nencountering many adventures, he became satisfied as well as fatigued.\nHe had heard of great feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his\npower in that way. One evening, as he was walking along the shores of a\ngreat lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in the\nform of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The wolf,\nas soon as he saw him, told his whelps to keep out of the way of\nManabozho, \"for I know,\" continued he, \"that it is him that we see\nyonder.\" The young wolves were in the act of running off, when\nManabozho cried out, \"My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop, and\nI will go with you.\" He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and\nasked him whither he was journeying. Being told that they were looking\nout for a place, where they could find most game, to pass the winter,\nhe said he should like to go with them, and addressed the old wolf in\nthe following words: \"Brother, I have a passion for the chase; are you\nwilling to change me into a wolf?\" He was answered favorably, and his\ntransformation immediately effected.\n\nManabozho was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding in\nsize with the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change,\ncrying out, \"Oh, make me a little larger.\" They did so. \"A little larger\nstill,\" he exclaimed. They said, \"Let us humor him,\" and granted his\nrequest. \"Well,\" said he, \"_that_ will do.\" He looked at his tail. \"Oh!\"\ncried he, \"do make my tail a little longer and more bushy.\" They did so.\nThey then all started off in company, dashing up a ravine. After getting\ninto the woods some distance, they fell in with the tracks of moose. The\nyoung ones went after them, Manabozho and the old wolf following at\ntheir leisure. \"Well,\" said the wolf, \"who do you think is the fastest\nof the boys? can you tell by the jumps they take?\" \"Why,\" he replied,\n\"that one that takes such long jumps, he is the fastest, to be sure.\"\n\"Ha! ha! you are mistaken,\" said the old wolf. \"He makes a good start,\nbut he will be the first to tire out; this one, who appears to be\nbehind, will be the one to kill the game.\" They then came to the place\nwhere the boys had started in chase. One had dropped his small bundle.\n\"Take that, Manabozho,\" said the old wolf. \"Esa,\" he replied, \"what will\nI do with a dirty dogskin?\" The wolf took it up; it was a beautiful\nrobe. \"Oh, I will carry it now,\" said Manabozho. \"Oh no,\" replied the\nwolf, who at the moment exerted his magic power; \"it is a robe of\npearls!\" And from this moment he omitted no occasion to display his\nsuperiority, both in the hunter's and magician's art, above his\nconceited companion. Coming to a place where the moose had lain down,\nthey saw that the young wolves had made a fresh start after their prey.\n\"Why,\" said the wolf, \"this moose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I\ncan always tell whether they are fat or not.\" They next came to a place\nwhere one of the wolves had bit at the moose, and had broken one of his\nteeth on a tree. \"Manabozho,\" said the wolf, \"one of your grandchildren\nhas shot at the game. Take his arrow; there it is.\" \"No,\" he replied;\n\"what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth!\" The old man took it up, and\nbehold! it was a beautiful silver arrow. When they overtook the\nyoungsters, they had killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry;\nbut, alas! such is the power of enchantment, he saw nothing but the\nbones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, \"Just as I expected,\ndirty, greedy fellows!\" However, he sat down without saying a word. At\nlength the old wolf spoke to one of the young ones, saying, \"Give some\nmeat to your grandfather.\" One of them obeyed, and, coming near to\nManabozho, opened his mouth as if he was about to vomit. He jumped up,\nsaying, \"You filthy dog, you have eaten so much that your stomach\nrefuses to hold it. Get you gone into some other place.\" The old wolf,\nhearing the abuse, went a little to one side to see, and behold, a heap\nof fresh ruddy meat, with the fat, lying all ready prepared. He was\nfollowed by Manabozho, who, having the enchantment instantly removed,\nput on a smiling face. \"Amazement!\" said he; \"how fine the meat is.\"\n\"Yes,\" replied the wolf; \"it is always so with us; we know our work, and\nalways get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter.\"\nManabozho bit his lip.\n\nThey then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the youngsters\nwent out in search of game, and soon brought in a large supply. One day,\nduring the absence of the young wolves, the old one amused himself in\ncracking the large bones of a moose. \"Manabozho,\" said he, \"cover your\nhead with the robe, and do not look at me while I am at these bones, for\na piece may fly in your eye.\" He did as he was told; but, looking\nthrough a rent that was in the robe, he saw what the other was about.\nJust at that moment a piece flew off and hit him on the eye. He cried\nout, \"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?\" The wolf said, \"You must\nhave been looking at me.\" But deception commonly leads to falsehood.\n\"No, no,\" he said, \"why should I want to look at you?\" \"Manabozho,\" said\nthe wolf, \"you _must_ have been looking, or you would not have got\nhurt.\" \"No, no,\" he replied again, \"I was not. I will repay the saucy\nwolf this,\" thought he to himself. So, next day, taking up a bone to\nobtain the marrow, he said to the wolf, \"Cover your head and don't look\nat me, for I fear a piece may fly in your eye.\" The wolf did so. He then\ntook the leg-bone of the moose, and looking first to see if the wolf was\nwell covered, he hit him a blow with all his might. The wolf jumped up,\ncried out, and fell prostrate from the effects of the blow. \"Why,\" said\nhe, \"do you strike me so?\" \"Strike you!\" he replied; \"no, you must have\nbeen looking at me.\" \"No,\" answered the wolf, \"I say I have not.\" But he\npersisted in the assertion, and the poor magician had to give up.\n\nManabozho was an expert hunter when he earnestly undertook it. He went\nout one day and killed a fat moose. He was very hungry, and sat down to\neat. But immediately he fell into great doubts as to the proper point to\nbegin. \"Well,\" said he, \"I do not know where to commence. At the head?\nNo! People will laugh, and say 'he ate him backward.'\" He went to the\nside. \"No!\" said he, \"they will say I ate sideways.\" He then went to the\nhind-quarter. \"No!\" said he, \"they will say I ate him forward. I will\ncommence _here_, say what they will.\" He took a delicate piece from the\nrump, and was just ready to put it in his mouth, when a tree close by\nmade a creaking noise, caused by the rubbing of one large branch against\nanother. This annoyed him. \"Why!\" he exclaimed, \"I cannot eat when I\nhear such a noise. Stop! stop!\" said he to the tree. He was putting the\nmorsel again to his mouth, when the noise was repeated. He put it down,\nexclaiming, \"I _cannot eat_ with such a noise;\" and immediately left\nthe meat, although very hungry, to go and put a stop to the noise. He\nclimbed the tree and was pulling at the limb, when his arm was caught\nbetween the two branches so that he could not extricate himself. While\nthus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves coming in the direction towards\nhis meat. \"Go that way! go that way!\" he cried out; \"what would you come\nto get here?\" The wolves talked among themselves and said, \"Manabozho\nmust have something there, or he would not tell us to go another way.\"\n\"I begin to know him,\" said an old wolf, \"and all his tricks. Let us go\nforward and see.\" They came on, and finding the moose, soon made way\nwith the whole carcass. Manabozho looked on wishfully to see them eat\ntill they were fully satisfied, and they left him nothing but the bare\nbones. The next heavy blast of wind opened the branches and liberated\nhim. He went home, thinking to himself, \"See the effect of meddling with\nfrivolous things when I had certain good in my possession.\"\n\nNext day the old wolf addressed him thus: \"My brother, I am going to\nseparate from you, but I will leave behind me one of the young wolves to\nbe your hunter.\" He then departed. In the act Manabozho was\ndisenchanted, and again resumed his mortal shape. He was sorrowful and\ndejected, but soon resumed his wonted air of cheerfulness. The young\nwolf who was left with him was a good hunter, and never failed to keep\nthe lodge well supplied with meat. One day he addressed him as follows:\n\"My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not portend good. It\nis of the large lake which lies in _that_ direction (pointing). You must\nbe careful never to cross it, even if the ice should appear good. If you\nshould come to it at night weary or hungry, you must make the circuit of\nit.\" Spring commenced, and the snow was melting fast before the rays of\nthe sun, when one evening the wolf came to this lake, weary with the\nday's chase. He disliked to go so far to make the circuit of it.\n\"Hwooh!\" he exclaimed, \"there can be no great harm in trying the ice, as\nit appears to be sound. Nesho[20] is over cautious on this point.\" But\nhe had not got half way across when the ice gave way and he fell in, and\nwas immediately seized by the serpents, who knew it was Manabozho's\ngrandson, and were thirsting for revenge upon him. Manabozho sat\npensively in his lodge.\n\nNight came on, but no son returned. The second and third night passed,\nbut he did not appear. He became very desolate and sorrowful. \"Ah!\"\nsaid he, \"he must have disobeyed me, and has lost his life in that lake\nI told him of. Well!\" said he at last, \"I must mourn for him.\" So he\ntook coal and blackened his face. But he was much perplexed as to the\nright mode. \"I wonder,\" said he, \"how I must do it? I will cry 'Oh! my\ngrandson! Oh! my grandson!'\" He burst out a laughing. \"No! no! that\nwon't do. I will try so--'Oh! my heart! Oh! my heart! ha! ha! ha!'.\nThat won't do either. I will cry, 'Oh my grandson _obiquadj_!'\"[21]\nThis satisfied him, and he remained in his lodge and fasted, till his\ndays of mourning were over. \"Now,\" said he, \"I will go in search of\nhim.\" He set out and travelled some time. At last he came to a great\nlake. He then raised the same cries of lamentation for his grandson\nwhich had pleased him. He sat down near a small brook that emptied\nitself into the lake, and repeated his cries. Soon a bird called\n_Ke-ske-mun-i-see_[22] came near to him. The bird inquired, \"What are\nyou doing here?\" \"Nothing,\" he replied; \"but can you tell me whether\nany one lives in this lake, and what brings you here yourself?\" \"Yes!\"\nresponded the bird; \"the Prince of Serpents lives here, and I am\nwatching to see whether the obiquadj of Manabozho's grandson will not\ndrift ashore, for he was killed by the serpents last spring. But are\nyou not Manabozho himself?\" \"No,\" he answered, with his usual deceit;\n\"how do you think _he_ could get to this place? But tell me, do the\nserpents ever appear? when? and where? Tell me all about their habits.\"\n\"Do you see that beautiful white sandy beach?\" said the bird. \"Yes!\" he\nanswered. \"It is there,\" continued the Kingfisher, \"that they bask in\nthe sun. Before they come out, the lake will appear perfectly calm; not\neven a ripple will appear. After midday (na-wi-qua) you will see them.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" he replied; \"I am Manabozho himself. I have come in search\nof the body of my son, and to seek my revenge. Come near me that I may\nput a medal round your neck as a reward for your information.\" The bird\nunsuspectingly came near, and received a white medal, which can be seen\nto this day.[23] While bestowing the medal, he attempted slyly to wring\nthe bird's head off, but it escaped him, with only a disturbance of the\ncrown feathers of its head, which are rumpled backward. He had found\nout all he wanted to know, and then desired to conceal the knowledge of\nhis purposes by killing his informant.\n\nHe went to the sandy beach indicated, and transformed himself into an\noak stump. He had not been there long before he saw the lake perfectly\ncalm. Soon hundreds of monstrous serpents came crawling on the beach.\nOne of the number was beautifully white. He was the prince. The others\nwere red and yellow. The prince spoke to those about him as follows: \"I\nnever saw that black stump standing there before. It may be Manabozho.\nThere is no knowing but he may be somewhere about here. He has the\npower of an evil genius, and we should be on our guard against his\nwiles.\" One of the large serpents immediately went and twisted himself\naround it to the top, and pressed it very hard. The greatest pressure\nhappened to be on his throat; he was just ready to cry out when the\nserpent let go. Eight of them went in succession and did the like, but\nalways let go at the moment he was ready to cry out. \"It cannot be\nhim,\" they said. \"He is too great a weak-heart[24] for that.\" They then\ncoiled themselves in a circle about their prince. It was a long time\nbefore they fell asleep. When they did so, Manabozho took his bow and\narrows, and cautiously stepping over the serpents till he came to the\nprince, drew up his arrow with the full strength of his arm, and shot\nhim in the left side. He then gave a saw-saw-quan,[25] and ran off at\nfull speed. The sound uttered by the snakes on seeing their prince\nmortally wounded, was horrible. They cried, \"Manabozho has killed our\nprince; go in chase of him.\" Meantime he ran over hill and valley, to\ngain the interior of the country, with all his strength and speed,\ntreading a mile at a step. But his pursuers were also spirits, and he\ncould hear that something was approaching him fast. He made for the\nhighest mountain, and climbed the highest tree on its summit, when,\ndreadful to behold, the whole lower country was seen to be overflowed,\nand the water was gaining rapidly on the high lands. He saw it reach to\nthe foot of the mountain, and at length it came up to the foot of the\ntree, but there was no abatement. The flood rose steadily and\nperceptibly. He soon felt the lower part of his body to be immersed in\nit. He addressed the tree: \"Grandfather, stretch yourself.\" The tree\ndid so. But the waters still rose. He repeated his request, and was\nagain obeyed. He asked a third time, and was again obeyed; but the tree\nreplied, \"It is the last time; I cannot get any higher.\" The waters\ncontinued to rise till they reached up to his chin, at which point they\nstood, and soon began to abate. Hope revived in his heart. He then cast\nhis eyes around the illimitable expanse, and spied a loon. \"Dive down,\nmy brother,\" he said to him, \"and fetch up some earth, so that I can\nmake a new earth.\" The bird obeyed, but rose up to the surface a\nlifeless form. He then saw a muskrat. \"Dive!\" said he, \"and if you\nsucceed, you may hereafter live either on land or water, as you please;\nor I will give you a chain of beautiful little lakes, surrounded with\nrushes, to inhabit.\" He dove down, but he floated up senseless. He took\nthe body and breathed in his nostrils, which restored him to life. \"Try\nagain,\" said he. The muskrat did so. He came up senseless the second\ntime, but clutched a little earth in one of his paws, from which,\ntogether with the carcass of the dead loon, he created a new earth as\nlarge as the former had been, with all living animals, fowls, and\nplants.\n\nAs he was walking to survey the new earth, he heard some one singing.\nHe went to the place, and found a female spirit, in the disguise of an\nold woman, singing these words, and crying at every pause:--\n\n    \"Ma nau bo sho, O do zheem un,\n    Ogeem' au wun, Onis' sa waun,\n    Hee-Ub bub ub bub (crying).\n    Dread Manabozho in revenge,\n    For his grandson lost--\n    Has killed the chief--the king.\"\n\n\"Noko,\" said he, \"what is the matter?\" \"Matter!\" said she, \"where have\nyou been, not to have heard how Manabozho shot my son, the prince of\nserpents, in revenge for the loss of his nephew, and how the earth was\noverflowed, and created anew? So I brought my son here, that he might\nkill and destroy the inhabitants, as he did on the former earth. But,\"\nshe continued, casting a scrutinizing glance, \"N'yau! indego Manabozho!\nhub! ub! ub! ub! Oh, I am afraid you are Manabozho!\" He burst out into\na laugh to quiet her fears. \"Ha! ha! ha! how can that be? Has not the\nold earth perished, and all that was in it?\" \"Impossible! impossible!\"\n\"But, Noko,\" he continued, \"what do you intend doing with all that\ncedar cord on your back?\" \"Why,\" said she, \"I am fixing a snare for\nManabozho, if he should be on this earth; and, in the mean time, I am\nlooking for herbs to heal my son. I am the only person that can do him\nany good. He always gets better when I sing--\n\n    \"'Manabozho a ne we guawk,\n    Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk,\n    Koan dan mau wah, ne we guawk.'\n        It is Manabozho's dart,\n    I try my magic power to withdraw.\"\n\nHaving found out, by conversation with her, all he wished, he put her\nto death. He then took off her skin, and assuming this disguise, took\nthe cedar cord on his back, and limped away singing her songs. He\ncompletely aped the gait and voice of the old woman. He was met by one\nwho told him to make haste; that the prince was worse. At the lodge,\nlimping and muttering, he took notice that they had his grandson's hide\nto hang over the door. \"Oh dogs!\" said he; \"the evil dogs!\" He sat down\nnear the door, and commenced sobbing like an aged woman. One observed,\n\"Why don't you attend the sick, and not set there making such a noise?\"\nHe took up the poker and laid it on them, mimicking the voice of the\nold woman. \"Dogs that you are! why do you laugh at me? You know very\nwell that I am so sorry that I am nearly out of my head.\" With that he\napproached the prince, singing the songs of the old woman, without\nexciting any suspicion. He saw that his arrow had gone in about one\nhalf its length. He pretended to make preparations for extracting it,\nbut only made ready to finish his victim; and giving the dart a sudden\nthrust, he put a period to the prince's life. He performed this act\nwith the power of a giant, bursting the old woman's skin, and at the\nsame moment rushing through the door, the serpents following him,\nhissing and crying out, \"Perfidy! murder! vengeance! it is Manabozho.\"\nHe immediately transformed himself into a wolf, and ran over the plain\nwith all his speed, aided by his father the West Wind. When he got to\nthe mountains he saw a badger. \"Brother,\" said he, \"make a hole quick,\nfor the serpents are after me.\" The badger obeyed. They both went in,\nand the badger threw all the earth backward, so that it filled up the\nway behind.\n\nThe serpents came to the badger's wauzh,[26] and decided to watch. \"We\nwill starve him out,\" said they; so they continued watching. Manabozho\ntold the badger to make an opening on the other side of the mountain,\nfrom which he could go out and hunt, and bring meat in. Thus they lived\nsome time. One day the badger came in his way and displeased him. He\nimmediately put him to death, and threw out his carcass, saying, \"I\ndon't like you to be getting in my way so often.\"\n\nAfter living in this confinement for some time alone, he decided to go\nout. He immediately did so; and after making the circuit of the\nmountain, came to the corpse of the prince, who had been deserted by\nthe serpents to pursue his destroyer. He went to work and skinned him.\nHe then drew on his skin, in which there were great virtues, took up\nhis war-club, and set out for the place where he first went in the\nground. He found the serpents still watching. When they saw the form of\ntheir dead prince advancing towards them, fear and dread took hold of\nthem. Some fled. Those who remained Manabozho killed. Those who fled\nwent towards the South.\n\nHaving accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Manabozho returned\nto his former place of dwelling, and married the arrow-maker's\ndaughter.\n\nAfter Manabozho had killed the Prince of Serpents, he was living in a\nstate of great want, completely deserted by his powers, as a deity, and\nnot able to procure the ordinary means of subsistence. He was at this\ntime living with his wife and children, in a remote part of the\ncountry, where he could get no game. He was miserably poor. It was\nwinter, and he had not the common Indian comforts.\n\nHe said to his wife, one day, \"I will go out a walking, and see if I\ncannot find some lodges.\" After walking some time he saw a lodge at a\ndistance. The children were playing at the door. When they saw him\napproaching they ran into the lodge, and told their parents that\nManabozho was coming. It was the residence of the large redheaded\nWoodpecker. He came to the lodge door and asked him to enter. He did\nso. After some time, the Woodpecker, who was a magician, said to his\nwife, \"Have you nothing to give Manabozho? he must be hungry.\" She\nanswered, \"No.\" In the centre of the lodge stood a large white\ntamarack-tree. The Woodpecker flew on to it, and commenced going up,\nturning his head on each side of the tree, and every now and then\ndriving in his bill. At last he drew something out of the tree, and\nthrew it down, when, behold! a fine, fat raccoon on the ground. He drew\nout six or seven more. He then descended, and told his wife to prepare\nthem. \"Manabozho,\" he said, \"this is the only thing we eat. What else\ncan we give you?\" \"It is very good,\" replied Manabozho. They smoked\ntheir pipes and conversed with each other. After eating, the great\nspirit-chief got ready to go home. The Woodpecker said to his wife,\n\"Give him what remains of the raccoons to take home for his children.\"\nIn the act of leaving the lodge he dropped intentionally one of his\nmittens, which was soon after observed. \"Run,\" said the Woodpecker to\nhis eldest son, \"and give it to him. But don't give it into his hand;\nthrow it at him, for there is no knowing him, he acts so curiously.\"\nThe boy did as he was bid. \"Nemesho\" (my grandfather), said he, as he\ncame up to him, \"you have left one of your mittens--here it is.\" \"Yes,\"\nsaid he, affecting to be ignorant of the circumstance, \"it is so. But\ndon't throw it, you will soil it on the snow.\" The lad, however, threw\nit, and was about to return. \"List,\" said Manabozho, \"is that all you\neat--do you eat nothing else with the raccoon?\" \"No,\" replied the young\nWoodpecker. \"Tell your father,\" he answered, \"to come and visit me, and\nlet him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his\nraccoon meat.\" When the young one reported this to his father, the old\nman turned up his nose at the invitation. \"What does the old fellow\nthink he has got!\" exclaimed he.\n\nSome time after the Woodpecker went to pay a visit to Manabozho. He was\nreceived with the usual attention. It had been the boast of Manabozho,\nin former days, that he could do what any other being in the creation\ncould, whether man or animals. He affected to have the sagacity of all\nanimals, to understand their language, and to be capable of exactly\nimitating it. And in his visits to men, it was his custom to return,\nexactly, the treatment he had received. He was very ceremonious in\nfollowing the very voice and manner of his entertainers. The Woodpecker\nhad no sooner entered his lodge, therefore, than he commenced playing\nthe mimic. He had previously directed his wife to change his lodge, so\nas to inclose a large dry tamarack-tree. \"What can I give you?\" said he\nto the Woodpecker; \"but as we eat, so shall you eat.\" He then put a long\npiece of bone in his nose, in imitation of the bill of this bird, and\njumping on the tamarack-tree, attempted to climb it, doing as he had\nseen the Woodpecker do. He turned his head first on one side, then on\nthe other. He made awkward efforts to ascend, but continually slipped\ndown. He struck the tree with the bone in his nose, until at last he\ndrove it so far up his nostrils that the blood began to flow, and he\nfell down senseless at the foot of the tree. The Woodpecker started\nafter his drum and rattle to restore him, and having got them, succeeded\nin bringing him to. As soon as he came to his senses, he began to lay\nthe blame of his failure to his wife, saying to his guest, \"Nemesho, it\nis this woman relation of yours--_she_ is the cause of my not\nsucceeding. She has rendered me a worthless fellow. Before I took her I\ncould also get raccoons.\" The Woodpecker said nothing, but flying on the\ntree, drew out several fine raccoons. \"Here,\" said he, \"this is the way\nwe do,\" and left him with apparent contempt.\n\nSevere weather continued, and Manabozho still suffered for the want of\nfood. One day he walked out, and came to a lodge, which was occupied by\nthe Moose (Moez). The young Mozonsug[27] saw him and told their father\nManabozho was at the door. He told them to invite him in. Being seated,\nthey entered into conversation. At last the Moose, who was a Meeta,\nsaid, \"What shall we give Manabozho to eat? We have nothing.\" His wife\nwas seated with her back toward him, making garters. He walked up to\nher, and untying the covering of the armlet from her back, cut off a\nlarge piece of flesh from the square of her shoulder.[28] He then put\nsome medicine on it, which immediately healed the wound. The skin did\nnot even appear to have been broken, and his wife was so little\naffected by it, that she did not so much as leave off her work, till he\ntold her to prepare the flesh for eating. \"Manabozho,\" said he, \"this\nis all we eat, and it is all we can give you.\"\n\nAfter they had finished eating, Manabozho set out for home, but\nintentionally, as before, dropped one of his _minjekawun_, or mittens.\nOne of the young Moose took it to him, telling him that his father had\nsent him with it. He had been cautioned not to hand it to him, but to\nthrow it at him. Having done so, contrary to the remonstrance of\nManabozho, he was going back, when the latter cried out, \"Bakah!\nBakah![29] Is _that_[30] the only kind of meat you eat? Tell me.\" \"Yes,\"\nanswered the young man, \"that is all; we have nothing else.\" \"Tell your\nfather,\" he replied, \"to come and visit me, and I will give him what you\nshall eat with your meat.\" The old Moose listened to this message with\nindignity. \"I wonder what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!\"\n\nHe was bound, however, to obey the invitation, and went accordingly,\ntaking along a cedar sack, for he had been told to bring one. Manabozho\nreceived him in the same manner he had himself been received--repeating\nthe same remarks, and attempted to supply the lack of food in the same\nmanner. To this end he had requested his wife to busy herself in making\ngarters. He arose and untied the covering of her back as he had seen\nthe Moose do. He then cut her back shockingly, paying no attention to\nher cries or resistance, until he saw her fall down, from the loss of\nblood. \"Manabozho,\" said the Moose, \"you are killing your wife.\" He\nimmediately ran for his drum and rattle, and restored her to life by\nhis skill. He had no sooner done this than Manabozho began to lay the\nblame of his ill success on his wife. \"Why, Nemesho,\" said he, \"this\nwoman, this relation of yours--she is making me a most worthless\nfellow. Formerly, I procured my meat in this way. But now I can\naccomplish nothing.\"\n\nThe Moose then cut large pieces of flesh off his own thighs, without the\nleast injury to himself, and gave them to Manabozho, saying, with a\ncontemptuous air, \"This is the way _we_ do.\" He then left the lodge.\n\nAfter these visits Manabozho was sitting pensively in his lodge one\nday, with his head down. He heard the wind whistling around it, and\nthought, by attentively listening, he could hear the voice of some one\nspeaking to him. It seemed to say to him: \"Great chief, why are you\nsorrowful? Am not I your friend--your guardian Spirit?\" He immediately\ntook up his rattle, and without leaving his sitting posture, began to\nsing the chant which at the close of every stanza has the chorus of\n\"Whaw Lay Le Aw.\" When he had devoted a long time to this chant, he laid\nhis rattle aside, and determined to fast. For this purpose he went to a\ncave, and built a very small fire, near which he laid down, first\ntelling his wife that neither she nor the children must come near him\ntill he had finished his fast. At the end of seven days he came back to\nthe lodge, pale and emaciated. His wife in the mean time had dug through\nthe snow, and got a small quantity of the root called truffles. These\nshe boiled and set before him. When he had finished his repast, he took\nhis large bow and bent it. Then placing a strong arrow to the string, he\ndrew it back, and sent the arrow, with the strength of a giant, through\nthe side of his bark lodge. \"There,\" said he to his wife, \"go to the\noutside, and you will find a large bear, shot through the heart.\" She\ndid so, and found one as he had predicted.\n\nHe then sent the children out to get red willow sticks. Of these he cut\noff as many pieces, of equal length, as would serve to invite his\nfriends to a feast. A red stick was sent to each one, not forgetting\nthe Moose and the Woodpecker.\n\nWhen they arrived, they were astonished to see such a profusion of meat\ncooked for them, at such a time of scarcity. Manabozho understood their\nglances, and felt a conscious pride in making such a display. \"Akewazi,\"\nsaid he, to one of the oldest of the party, \"the weather is very cold,\nand the snow lasts a long time. We can kill nothing now but small\nsquirrels. And I have sent for you to help me eat some of them.\" The\nWoodpecker was the first to put a mouthful of the bear's meat to his\nmouth, but he had no sooner begun to taste it, than it changed into a\ndry powder, and set him coughing. It appeared as bitter as ashes. The\nMoose felt the same effect, and began to cough. Each one, in turn, was\nadded to the number of coughers. But they had too much sense of decorum,\nand respect for their entertainer, to say anything. The meat looked very\nfine. They thought they would try more of it. But the more they ate the\nfaster they coughed and the louder became the uproar, until Manabozho,\nexerting his former power, which he now felt to be renewed, transformed\nthem all into the Adjidamo, or squirrel, an animal which is still found\nto have the habit of barking, or coughing, whenever it sees any one\napproach its nest.\n\n                    *      *      *      *      *\n\nThe story of this chief of northern myths is dropped in my notes at\nthis point of his triumph over the strongest of the reptile race. But\nhis feats and adventures by land and sea do not terminate here. There\nis scarcely a prominent lake, mountain, precipice, or stream in the\nnorthern part of America, which is not hallowed in Indian story by his\nfabled deeds. Further accounts will be found in several of the\nsubsequent tales, which are narrated by the Indians in an independent\nform, and may be now appropriately left as they were found, as\nepisodes, detached from the original story. To collect all these and\narrange them in order would be an arduous labor; and, after all, such\nan arrangement would lack consistency and keeping, unless much of the\nthread necessary to present them in an English dress were supplied by\nalteration, and transposition. The portions above narrated present a\nbeginning and an end, which could hardly be said of the loose and\ndisjointed fragmentary tales referred to. How long Manabozho lived on\nearth is not related. We hear nothing more of his grandmother; every\nmouth is filled with his queer adventures, tricks, and sufferings. He\nwas everywhere present where danger presented itself, power was\nrequired, or mischief was going forward. Nothing was too low or trivial\nfor him to engage in, nor too high or difficult for him to attempt. He\naffected to be influenced by the spirit of a god, and was really\nactuated by the malignity of a devil. The period of his labors and\nadventures having expired, he withdrew to dwell with his brother in the\nNorth, where he is understood to direct those storms which proceed from\nthe points west of the pole. He is regarded as the spirit of the\nnorthwest tempests, but receives no worship from the present race of\nIndians. It is believed by them that he is again to appear, and to\nexercise an important power in the final disposition of the human race.\n\nIn this singular tissue of incongruities may be perceived some ideas\nprobably derived from Asiatic sources. It will be found in the legends\nof the visitors to the Sun and Moon, and of the white stone canoe, that\nManabozho was met on the way, and he is represented as expressing a\ndeep repentance for the bad acts he had committed while on earth. He\nis, however, found exercising the vocation of a necromancer; has a\njossakeed's lodge, from which he utters oracles; and finally transforms\non the spot two of the party, who had consulted him, and asked the gift\nof immortality, the one into a cedar-tree, and the other into a block\nof granite.\n\nManabozho is regarded by the Indians as a divine benefactor, and is\nadmired and extolled as the personification of strength and wisdom. Yet\nhe constantly presents the paradox of being a mere mortal; is driven to\nlow and common expedients; and never utters a sentiment wiser or better\nthan the people among whom he appears. The conception of a divinity,\npure, changeless, and just, as well as benevolent, in the distribution\nof its providences, has not been reached by any traits exhibited in the\ncharacter of this personage. And if such notions had ever been\nconceived by the ancestors of the present race of Indians in the East,\nthey have been obliterated, in the course of their long, dark, and\nhopeless pilgrimage in the forests of America. The prevalence of this\nlegend, among the Indian tribes, is extensive.\n\nThe character, the place, which he holds in the Indian mythology are\nfurther denoted in the 5th vol. of my _Hist._, p. 417, where he is\nrepresented as giving passage to souls on their way through the regions\nof space, to the Indian paradise; and also in the legend of the White\nStone Canoe. The general myth, is recognized in the legend of the\nIroquois, under the name of Hiawatha, and Tarenyawazon. See _Notes on\nthe Iroquois_, page 270 (1846), and also in the 3d vol. _Hist._, p. 314.\nMr. Longfellow has given prominence to it, and to its chief episodes, by\nselecting and generalizing such traits as appeared best susceptible of\npoetic uses.\n\n       [6] An abbreviated term for \"my grandmother,\" derived from\n       no-ko-miss.\n\n       [7] This is a term for the west wind. It is a derivative from\n       _Kabian-oong_, the proper appellation for the occident.\n\n       [8] An interjection indicating pain.\n\n       [9] The scirpus, or bulrush.\n\n      [10] Do not--do not.\n\n      [11] The Northern Indians, when travelling in company with each\n      other, or with white persons who possess their confidence, so as\n      to put them at ease, are in the habit of making frequent\n      allusions to Manabozho and his exploits. \"There,\" said a young\n      Chippewa, pointing to some huge boulders of greenstone, \"are\n      pieces of the rock broken off in Manabozho's combat with his\n      father.\" \"This is the duck,\" said an Indian interpreter on the\n      sources of the Mississippi, \"that Manabozho kicked.\" \"Under that\n      island,\" said a friend conversant with their language, \"under\n      that island Manabozho lost a beaver.\"\n\n      [12] The term weendigo, translated here monster, is commonly\n      applied, at this time, by the Indians, to cannibals. Its ancient\n      use appears, however, to have embraced giants and anomalous\n      voracious beasts of the land, to the former existence of which,\n      on this Continent, their traditions refer.\n\n      The word genabik, rendered serpent, appears likewise to have been\n      used in a generic sense for amphibious animals of large and\n      venomous character. When applied to existing species of serpents,\n      it requires an adjective prefix or qualifying term.\n\n      [13] The wampum or pearl feather.\n\n      [14] An interjection equivalent to shame! shame!\n\n      [15] Animal tail, or bottom upward.\n\n      [16] A free translation of this expression might be rendered,\n      noble scratchers, or grabbers.\n\n      [17] The conaus is the most ancient garment known to these\n      tribes, being a simple extended single piece, without folds. The\n      word is the apparent root of godaus, a female garment.\n      Waub-e-wion, a blanket, is a comparatively modern phrase for a\n      wrapper, signifying, literally, a white skin with the wool on.\n\n      [18] Fasts. The rite of fasting is one of the most deep-seated and\n      universal in the Indian ritual. It is practised among all the\n      American tribes, and is deemed by them essential to their success\n      in life in every situation. No young man is fitted and prepared to\n      begin the career of life until he has accomplished his great fast.\n      Seven days appear to have been the ancient maximum limit of\n      endurance, and the success of the devotee is inferred from the\n      length of continued abstinence to which he is known to have\n      attained. These fasts are anticipated by youth as one of the most\n      important events of life. They are awaited with interest, prepared\n      for with solemnity, and endured with a self-devotion bordering on\n      the heroic. Character is thought to be fixed from this period, and\n      the primary fast, thus prepared for and successfully established,\n      seems to hold that relative importance to subsequent years that is\n      attached to a public profession of religious faith in civilized\n      communities. It is at this period that the young men and the young\n      women \"see visions and dream dreams,\" and fortune or misfortune is\n      predicted from the guardian spirit chosen during this, to them,\n      religious ordeal. The hallucinations of the mind are taken for\n      divine inspiration. The effect is deeply felt and strongly\n      impressed on the mind; too deeply, indeed, to be ever obliterated\n      in after life. The father in the circle of his lodge, the hunter\n      in the pursuit of the chase, and the warrior in the field of\n      battle, think of the guardian genius which they fancy to accompany\n      them, and trust to his power and benign influence under every\n      circumstance. This genius is the absorbing theme of their silent\n      meditations, and stands to them in all respects in place of the\n      Christian's hope, with the single difference that, however deeply\n      mused upon, the _name_ is never uttered, and every circumstance\n      connected with its selection, and the devotion paid to it, is most\n      studiously and professedly concealed even from their nearest\n      friends.\n\n      Fasts in subsequent life appear to have for their object a\n      renewal of the powers and virtues which they attribute to the\n      rite. And they are observed more frequently by those who strive\n      to preserve unaltered the ancient state of society among them, or\n      by men who assume austere habits for the purpose of acquiring\n      influence in the tribe, or as preparatives for war or some\n      extraordinary feat. It is not known that there is any fixed day\n      observed as a general fast. So far as a rule is followed, a\n      general fast seems to have been observed in the spring, and to\n      have _preceded_ the general and customary feasts at that season.\n\n      It will be inferred from these facts, that the Indians believe\n      fasts to be very meritorious. They are deemed most acceptable to\n      the Manitoes or spirits whose influence and protection they wish\n      to engage or preserve. And it is thus clearly deducible, that a\n      very large proportion of the time devoted by the Indians to\n      secret worship, so to say, is devoted to these guardian or\n      intermediate spirits, and not to the Great Spirit or Creator.\n\n      [19] The tuft feathers of the red-headed woodpecker are used to\n      ornament the stems of the Indian pipe, and are symbolical of\n      valor.\n\n      [20] Abbreviated from Neshomiss, my grandfather.\n\n      [21] That part of the intestines of a fish, which by its\n      expansion from air in the first stage of decomposition, causes\n      the body to rise and float. The expression here means float.\n\n      [22] The Alcedo or Kingfisher.\n\n      [23] This bird has a white spot on the breast, and a tufted head.\n\n      [24] Shau-go-dai-a, _i.e._, a Coward.\n\n      [25] The war-cry.\n\n      [26] A burrow.\n\n      [27] Diminutive form, plural number, of the noun Moez.\n\n      [28] The dress of the females in the Odjibwa nation, consists of\n      sleeves, open on the inner side of the arm from the elbow up, and\n      terminating in large square folds, falling from the shoulders,\n      which are tied at the back of the neck with ribbon or binding.\n      The sleeves are separately made, and not attached to the breast\n      garment, which consists of square folds of cloth, ornamented and\n      sustained by shoulder straps. To untie the sleeves or armlets, as\n      is here described, is therefore to expose the shoulders, but not\n      the back--a simple device, quickly accomplished, by which the\n      magician could readily exercise his art almost imperceptibly to\n      the object.\n\n      [29] Stop! stop!\n\n      [30] It is difficult to throw into the English pronoun the whole\n      of the meaning of the Indian. Pronouns in this language being,\n      like other parts of speech, transitive; they are at once\n      indicative both of the actor, personal, and relative, and the\n      nature of the object, or subject of the action, or relation.\n      This, and that, are not used in the elementary form these\n      pronouns invariably possess in the English. Inflections are put\n      to them indicating the class of natural objects to which they\n      refer. A noun masculine or feminine, requiring an animate\n      pronoun, a noun inanimate, a pronoun inanimate.\n\n\n\n\nPAUP-PUK-KEEWISS.\n\n\nThe vernal equinox in the north, generally takes place while the ground\nis covered with snow, and winter still wears a polar aspect. Storms of\nwind and light drifting snow, expressively called _poudre_ by the\nFrench, and peewun by the Indians, fill the atmosphere, and render it\nimpossible to distinguish objects at a short distance. The fine powdery\nflakes of snow are driven into the smallest crannies of buildings and\nfixtures, and seem to be endowed with a subtle power of insinuation,\nwhich renders northern joinerwork but a poor defence. It is not\nuncommon for the sleeper, on waking up in the morning, to find heaps of\nsnow, where he had supposed himself quite secure on lying down.\n\nSuch seasons are, almost invariably, times of scarcity and hunger with\nthe Indians, for the light snows have buried up the traps of the\nhunters, and the fishermen are deterred from exercising their customary\nskill in decoying fish through orifices cut in the ice. They are often\nreduced to the greatest straits, and compelled to exercise their utmost\ningenuity to keep their children from starving. Abstinence, on the part\nof the elder members of the family, is regarded both as a duty and a\nmerit. Every effort is made to satisfy the importunity of the little\nones for food, and if there be a story-teller in the lodge, he is sure\nto draw upon his cabin lore, to amuse their minds, and beguile the\ntime.\n\nIn these storms, when each inmate of the lodge has his _conaus_, or\nwrapper, tightly drawn around him, and all are cowering around the\ncabin fire, should some sudden puff of wind drive a volume of light\nsnow into the lodge, it would scarcely happen, but that some one of the\ngroup would cry out, \"Ah, Pauppukkeewiss is now gathering his harvest,\"\nan expression which has the effect to put them all into good humor.\n\nPauppukkeewiss was a crazy brain, who played many queer tricks, but\ntook care, nevertheless, to supply his family and children with food.\nBut, in this, he was not always successful. Many winters have passed\nsince he was overtaken; at this very season of the year, with great\nwant, and he, with his whole family, was on the point of starvation.\nEvery resource seemed to have failed. The snow was so deep, and the\nstorm continued so long, that he could not even find a partridge or a\nhare. And his usual resource of fish had entirely failed. His lodge\nstood in a point of woods, not far back from the shores of the\nGitchiguma, or great water, where the autumnal storms had piled up the\nice into high pinnacles, resembling castles.\n\n\"I will go,\" said he to his family one morning, \"to these castles, and\nsolicit the pity of the spirits who inhabit them, for I know that they\nare the residence of some of the spirits of Kabiboonoka.\" He did so,\nand found that his petition was not disregarded. They told him to fill\nhis mushkemoot, or sack, with the ice and snow, and pass on toward his\nlodge, without looking back, until he came to a certain hill. He must\nthen drop it and leave it till morning, when he would find it filled\nwith fish.\n\nThey cautioned him, that he must by no means look back, although he\nwould hear a great many voices crying out to him, in abusive terms, for\nthese voices were nothing but the wind playing through the branches of\nthe trees. He faithfully obeyed the injunction, although he found it\nhard to avoid turning round, to see who was calling out to him. And\nwhen he visited his sack in the morning, he found it filled with fish.\n\nIt chanced that Manabozho visited him on the morning that he brought\nhome the sack of fish. He was invited to partake of a feast, which\nPauppukkeewiss ordered to be prepared for him. While they were eating,\nManabozho could not help asking him, by what means he had procured such\nan abundance of food, at a time when they were all in a state of\nstarvation.\n\nPauppukkeewiss frankly told him the secret, and repeated the\nprecautions which were necessary to insure success. Manabozho\ndetermined to profit by his information, and as soon as he could, he\nset out to visit the icy castles. All things happened as he had been\ntold. The spirits seemed propitious, and told him to fill and carry. He\naccordingly filled his sacks with ice and snow, and proceeded rapidly\ntoward the hill of transmutation. But as he ran he heard voices calling\nout behind him, \"Thief! thief! He has stolen fish from Kabiboonoka,\"\ncried one. \"Mukumik! mukumik! Take it away! Take it away!\" cried\nanother.\n\nIn fine, his ears were so assailed by all manner of opprobrious terms,\nthat he could not avoid turning his head, to see who it was that thus\nabused him. But his curiosity dissolved the charm. When he came to\nvisit his bags next morning, he found them filled with ice and snow. A\nhigh drifting snow storm never fails to bring up this story. The origin\nof this queer character is as queer as his acts are phantastic. The\nmyth asserts, that a man of large stature, and great activity of mind\nand body, found himself standing alone on a prairie. He thought to\nhimself, \"How came I here? Are there no beings on this earth but\nmyself? I must travel and see. I must walk till I find the abodes of\nmen.\" So soon as his mind was made up, he set out, he knew not where,\nin search of habitations. No obstacles could divert him from his\npurpose. Neither prairies, rivers, woods, nor storms had the effect to\ndaunt his courage or turn him back. After travelling a long time he\ncame to a wood, in which he saw decayed stumps of trees, as if they had\nbeen cut in ancient times, but no other traces of men. Pursuing his\njourney, he found more recent marks of the same kind; and after this,\nhe came to fresh traces of human beings; first their footsteps, and\nthen the wood they had cut, lying in heaps. Continuing on, he emerged\ntowards dusk from the forest, and beheld at a distance a large village\nof high lodges, standing on rising ground. He said to himself, \"I will\narrive there on a run.\" Off he started with all his speed; on coming to\nthe first large lodge, he jumped over it. Those within saw something\npass over the opening, and then heard a thump on the ground.\n\n\"What is that?\" they all said.\n\nOne came out to see, and invited him in. He found himself in company\nwith an old chief and several men, who were seated in the lodge. Meat\nwas set before him, after which the chief asked him where he was going\nand what his name was. He answered, that he was in search of\nadventures, and his name was Paup-Puk-Keewiss. A stare followed.\n\n\"Paup-Puk-Keewiss!\"[31] said one to another, and a general titter went\nround.\n\nHe was not easy in his new position; the village was too small to give\nhim full scope for his powers, and after a short stay he made up his\nmind to go farther, taking with him a young man who had formed a strong\nattachment for him, and might serve him as his mesh-in-au-wa.[32] They\nset out together, and when his companion was fatigued with walking, he\nwould show him a few tricks, such as leaping over trees, and turning\nround on one leg till he made the dust fly, by which he was mightily\npleased, although it sometimes happened that the character of these\ntricks frightened him.\n\nOne day they came to a very large village, where they were well\nreceived. After staying in it some time, they were informed of a number\nof manitoes who lived at a distance, and who made it a practice to kill\nall who came to their lodge. Attempts had been made to extirpate them,\nbut the war-parties who went out for this purpose were always\nunsuccessful. Paup-Puk-Keewiss determined to visit them, although he\nwas advised not to do so. The chief warned him of the danger of the\nvisit; but, finding him resolved,\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"if you will go, being my guest, I will send twenty\nwarriors to serve you.\"\n\nHe thanked him for the offer. Twenty young men were ready at the\ninstant, and they went forward, and in due time described the lodge of\nthe manitoes. He placed his friend and the warriors near enough to see\nall that passed, while he went alone to the lodge. As he entered he saw\nfive horrid-looking manitoes in the act of eating. It was the father\nand his four sons. They looked hideous; their eyes were swimming low in\ntheir heads, as if half starved. They offered him something to eat,\nwhich he refused.\n\n\"What have you come for?\" said the old one.\n\n\"Nothing,\" Paup-Puk-Keewiss answered.\n\nThey all stared at him.\n\n\"Do you not wish to wrestle?\" they all asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied.\n\nA hideous smile came over their faces.\n\n\"_You_ go,\" they said to the eldest brother.\n\nThey got ready, and were soon clinched in each other's arms for a\ndeadly throw. He knew their object--his death--his _flesh_ was all they\nwanted, but he was prepared for them.\n\n\"Haw! haw!\"[33] they cried, and soon the dust and dry leaves flew about\nas if driven by a strong wind.\n\nThe manito was strong, but Paup-Puk-Keewiss soon found that he could\nmaster him; and, giving him a trip, he threw him with a giant's force\nhead foremost on a stone, and he fell like a puffed thing.\n\nThe brothers stepped up in quick succession, but he put a number of\ntricks in force, and soon the whole four lay bleeding on the ground.\nThe old manito got frightened and ran for his life. Paup-Puk-Keewiss\npursued him for sport; sometimes he was before him, sometimes flying\nover his head. He would now give him a kick, then a push or a trip,\ntill he was almost exhausted. Meantime his friend and the warriors\ncried out, \"Ha! ha! a! ha! ha! a! Paup-Puk-Keewiss is driving him\nbefore him.\" The manito only turned his head now and then to look back;\nat last, Paup-Puk-Keewiss gave him a kick on his back, and broke his\nback bone; down he fell, and the blood gushing out of his mouth\nprevented him from saying a word. The warriors piled all the bodies\ntogether in the lodge, and then took fire and burned them. They all\nlooked with deep interest at the quantity of human bones scattered\naround.\n\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss then took three arrows, and after having performed a\nceremony to the Great Spirit, he shot one into the air, crying, with a\nloud voice,\n\n\"_You_ who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit!\" The bones all\nmoved to one place. He shot the second arrow, repeating the same words,\nwhen each bone drew towards its fellow-bone; the third arrow brought\nforth to life the whole multitude of people who had been killed by the\nmanitoes. Paup-Puk-Keewiss then led them to the chief of the village\nwho had proved his friend, and gave them up to him. Soon after the\nchief came with his counsellors.\n\n\"Who is more worthy,\" said he, \"to rule than you? _You_ alone can\ndefend them.\"\n\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss thanked him, and told him he was in search of more\nadventures. The chief insisted. Paup-Puk-Keewiss told him to confer the\nchieftainship on his friend, who, he said, would remain while he went\non his travels. He told them that he would, some time or other, come\nback and see them.\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho!\" they all cried, \"come back again and see us,\" insisting\non it. He promised them he would, and then set out alone.\n\nAfter travelling some time he came to a large lake; on looking about,\nhe discovered a very large otter on an island. He thought to himself,\n\"His skin will make me a fine pouch,\" and immediately drew up, at long\nshots, and drove an arrow into his side. He waded into the lake, and\nwith some difficulty dragged him ashore. He took out the entrails, and\neven then the carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do\nto drag it up a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got him up\ninto the sunshine, where it was warm, he skinned him, and threw the\ncarcass some distance, thinking the war-eagle would come, and he should\nhave a chance to get his skin and feathers as head ornaments. He soon\nheard a rushing noise in the air, but could see nothing; by and by, a\nlarge eagle dropped, as if from the air, on the otter's carcass. He\ndrew his bow, and the arrow passed through under both his wings. The\nbird made a convulsive flight upwards with such force, that the heavy\ncarcass (which was nearly as big as a moose) was borne up several feet.\nFortunately, both claws were fastened deeply into the meat, the weight\nof which soon brought the bird down. He skinned him, crowned his head\nwith the trophy, and next day was on his way, on the lookout for\nsomething new.\n\nAfter walking a while he came to a lake, which flooded the trees on its\nbanks; he found it was only a lake made by beavers. He took his station\non the elevated dam, where the stream escaped, to see whether any of\nthe beavers would show themselves. He soon saw the head of one peeping\nout of the water to see who disturbed them.\n\n\"My friend,\" said Paup-Puk-Keewiss, \"could you not turn me into a\nbeaver like yourself?\" for he thought, if he could become a beaver, he\nwould see and know how these animals lived.\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied the beaver; \"I will go and ask the others.\"\n\nSoon all the beavers showed their heads above the water, and looked to\nsee if he was armed; but he had left his bow and arrows in a hollow\ntree at a short distance. When they were satisfied, they all came near.\n\n\"Can you not, with all your united power,\" said he, \"turn me into a\nbeaver? I wish to live among you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered their chief; \"lay down;\" and he soon found himself\nchanged into one of them.\n\n\"You must make me _large_,\" said he; \"_larger_ than any of you.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" said they. \"By and by, when we get into the lodge, it shall\nbe done.\"\n\nIn they all dove into the lake; and, in passing large heaps of limbs\nand logs at the bottom, he asked the use of them; they answered, \"It is\nfor our winter's provisions.\"[34] When they all got into the lodge,\ntheir number was about one hundred. The lodge was large and warm.\n\n\"Now we will make you large,\" said they. \"Will _that_ do?\" exerting\ntheir power.\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered, for he found he was ten times the size of the\nlargest.\n\n\"You need not go out,\" said they. \"We will bring your food into the\nlodge, and you will be our chief.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" Paup-Puk-Keewiss answered. He thought, \"I will stay here\nand grow fat at their expense.\" But, soon after, one ran into the lodge\nout of breath, saying, \"We are visited by Indians.\" All huddled\ntogether in great fear. The water began to _lower_, for the hunters had\nbroken down the dam, and they soon heard them on the roof of the lodge\nbreaking it up. Out jumped all the beavers into the water, and so\nescaped. Paup-Puk-Keewiss tried to follow them; but, alas! they had\nmade him so large that he could not creep out of the hole. He tried to\ncall them back, but to no effect; he worried himself so much in trying\nto escape, that he looked like a bladder. He could not turn himself\nback into a man, although he heard and understood all the hunters said.\nOne of them put his head in at the top of the lodge.\n\n\"_Ty-au!_\" cried he; \"_Tut Ty-au!_ Me-shau-mik--king of the beavers is\nin.\" They all got at him, and knocked his skull till it was as soft as\nhis brains. He thought, as well as ever he did, although he was a\nbeaver. Seven or eight of them then placed his body on poles and\ncarried him home. As they went, he reflected in this manner: \"What will\nbecome of me? my ghost or shadow will not die after they get me to\ntheir lodges.\" Invitations were immediately sent out for a grand feast.\nThe women took him out into the snow to skin him; but, as soon as his\nflesh got cold, his _Jee-bi_ went off.\n\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss found himself standing near a prairie, having\nreassumed his mortal shape. After walking a distance, he saw a herd of\nelk feeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life,\nand thought there could be nothing pleasanter than the liberty of\nrunning about and feeding on the prairies. He asked them if they could\nnot turn him into their shape.\n\n\"Yes,\" they answered, after a pause. \"Get down on your hands and feet.\"\nAnd he soon found himself an elk.\n\n\"I want big horns, big feet,\" said he; \"I wish to be very large.\"\n\n\"Yes! yes!\" they said.\n\n\"There!\" exerting their power; \"are you big enough?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" he answered, for he saw that he was very large. They spent a\ngood time in grazing and running. Being rather cold one day, he went\ninto a thick wood for shelter, and was followed by most of the herd.\nThey had not been long there before some elks from behind passed the\nothers like a strong wind. All took the alarm, and off they ran, he\nwith the rest.\n\n\"Keep out on the plains,\" they said.\n\nBut he found it was too late, as they had already got entangled in the\nthick woods. Paup-Puk-Keewiss soon smelt the hunters, who were closely\nfollowing his trail, for they had left all the others and followed him.\nHe jumped furiously, and broke down saplings in his flight, but it only\nserved to retard his progress. He soon felt an arrow in his side; he\njumped over trees in his agony, but the arrows clattered thicker and\nthicker upon his sides, and at last one entered his heart. He fell to\nthe ground, and heard the whoop of triumph sounded by the hunters. On\ncoming up, they looked on the carcass with astonishment, and with their\nhands up to their mouths exclaimed Ty-au! Ty-au! There were about sixty\nin the party, who had come out on a special hunt, as one of their\nnumber had, the day before, observed his _large tracks_ on the plains.\nAfter skinning him and his flesh getting cold, his _Jee-bi_ took its\nflight from the carcass, and he again found himself in human shape,\nwith a bow and arrows.\n\nBut his passion for adventure was not yet cooled; for, on coming to a\nlarge lake with a sandy beach, he saw a large flock of brant, and,\nspeaking to them, asked them to turn him into a brant.\n\n\"Yes,\" they replied.\n\n\"But I want to be very large,\" he said.\n\n\"Very well,\" they answered; and he soon found himself a large brant,\nall the others standing gazing in astonishment at his large size.\n\n\"You must fly as leader,\" they said.\n\n\"No,\" answered Paup-Puk-Keewiss, \"I will fly behind.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" they said. \"One thing more we have to say to you. You must\nbe careful, in flying, not to look _down_, for something may happen to\nyou.\"\n\n\"Well! it is so,\" said he; and soon the flock rose up into the air, for\nthey were bound north. They flew very fast, he behind. One day, while\ngoing with a strong wind, and as swift as their wings could flap, while\npassing over a large village, the Indians raised a great shout on\nseeing them, particularly on Paup-Puk-Keewiss's account, for his wings\nwere broader than two large aupukwa.[35] They made such a noise, that\nhe forgot what had been told him, about looking down. They were now\ngoing as swift as arrows; and, as soon as he brought his neck in and\nstretched it down to look at the shouters, his tail was caught by the\nwind, and over and over he was blown. He tried to right himself, but\nwithout success. Down, down he went, making more turns than he wished\nfor, from a height of several miles. The first thing he knew was, that\nhe was jammed into a large hollow tree. To get back or forward was out\nof the question, and there he remained till his brant life was ended by\nstarvation. His _Jee-bi_ again left the carcass, and he once more found\nhimself in the shape of a human being.\n\nTravelling was still his passion; and, while travelling, he came to a\nlodge in which were two old men with heads white from age. They treated\nhim well, and he told them that he was going back to his village to see\nhis friends and people. They said they would aid him, and pointed out\nthe direction he should go; but they were deceivers. After walking all\nday, he came to a lodge looking very much like the first, with two old\nmen in it with white heads. It was, in fact, the very same lodge, and\nhe had been walking in a circle; but they did not undeceive him,\npretending to be strangers, and saying, in a kind voice, \"We will show\nyou the way.\" After walking the third day, and coming back to the same\nplace, he found them out in their tricks, for he had cut a notch on the\ndoorpost.\n\n\"Who are you,\" said he to them, \"to treat me so?\" and he gave one a\nkick and the other a slap, which killed them. Their blood flew against\nthe rocks near the lodge, and this is the reason there are red streaks\nin them to this day. He then burned their lodge down, and freed the\nearth of two pretended good men, who were manitoes.\n\nHe then continued his journey, not knowing exactly which way to go. At\nlast he came to a big lake. He got on the highest hill to try and see\nthe opposite side, but he could not. He then made a canoe, and took a\nsail into the lake. On looking into the water, which was very clear,\nbefore he got to the abrupt depth, he saw the bottom covered with dark\nfishes, numbers of which he caught. This inspired him with a wish to\nreturn to his village and to bring his people to live near this lake.\nHe went on, and towards evening came to a large island, where he\nencamped and ate the fish he had speared.\n\nNext day he returned to the main land, and, in wandering along the\nshore, he encountered a more powerful manito than himself, called\nManabozho. He thought best, after playing him a trick, to keep out of\nhis way. He again thought of returning to his village; and,\ntransforming himself into a partridge, took his flight towards it. In a\nshort time he reached it, and his return was welcomed with feastings\nand songs. He told them of the lake and the fish, and persuaded them\nall to remove to it, as it would be easier for them to live there. He\nimmediately began to remove them by short encampments, and all things\nturned out as he had said. They caught abundance of fish. After this, a\nmessenger came for him in the shape of a bear, who said that their king\nwished to see him immediately at his village. Paup-Puk-Keewiss was\nready in an instant; and, getting on to the messenger's back, off he\nran. Towards evening they went up a high mountain, and came to a cave\nwhere the bear-king lived. He was a very large person, and made him\nwelcome by inviting him into his lodge. As soon as propriety allowed,\nhe spoke, and said that he had sent for him on hearing that he was the\nchief who was moving a large party towards his hunting-grounds.\n\n\"You must know,\" said he, \"that you have no right there. And I wish you\nwould leave the country with your party, or else the strongest force\nwill take possession.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Paup-Puk-Keewiss. \"So be it.\" He did not wish to\ndo anything without consulting his people; and besides, he saw that the\nbear-king was raising a war party. He then told him he would go back\nthat night. The bear-king left him to do as he wished, but told him\nthat one of his young men was ready at his command; and, immediately\njumping on his back, Paup-Puk-Keewiss rode home. He assembled the\nvillage, and told the young men to kill the bear, make a feast of it,\nand hang the head outside the village, for he knew the bear spies would\nsoon see it, and carry the news to their chief.\n\nNext morning Paup-Puk-Keewiss got all his young warriors ready for a\nfight. After waiting one day, the bear war-party came in sight, making\na tremendous noise. The bear-chief advanced, and said that he did not\nwish to shed the blood of the young warriors; but that if he,\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss, consented, they two would have a race, and the winner\nshould kill the losing chief, and all his young men should be slaves to\nthe other. Paup-Puk-Keewiss agreed, and they ran before all the\nwarriors. He was victor, and came in first; but, not to terminate the\nrace too soon, he gave the bear-chief some specimens of his skill and\nswiftness by forming eddies and whirlwinds with the sand, as he leaped\nand turned about him. As the bear-chief came up, he drove an arrow\nthrough him, and a great chief fell. Having done this, he told his\nyoung men to take all those blackfish (meaning the bears), and tie them\nat the door of each lodge, that they might remain in future to serve as\nservants.\n\nAfter seeing that all was quiet and prosperous in the village,\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss felt his desire for adventure returning. He took a\nkind leave of his friends and people, and started off again. After\nwandering a long time, he came to the lodge of Manabozho, who was\nabsent. He thought he would play him a trick, and so turned everything\nin the lodge upside down, and killed his chickens. Now Manabozho calls\nall the fowls of the air his chickens; and among the number was a\nraven, the meanest of birds, which Paup-Puk-Keewiss killed and hung up\nby the neck to insult him. He then went on till he came to a very high\npoint of rocks running out into the lake, from the top of which he\ncould see the country back as far as the eye could reach. While sitting\nthere, Manabozho's mountain chickens flew round and past him in great\nnumbers. So, out of spite, he shot them in great numbers, for his\narrows were sure and the birds very plenty, and he amused himself by\nthrowing the birds down the rocky precipice. At length a wary bird\ncried out, \"Paup-Puk-Keewiss is killing us. Go and tell our father.\"\nAway flew a delegation of them, and Manabozho soon made his appearance\non the plain below. Paup-Puk-Keewiss made his escape on the opposite\nside. Manabozho cried out from the mountain--\n\n\"The earth is not so large but I can get up to you.\" Off\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss ran, and Manabozho after him. He ran over hills and\nprairies with all his speed, but still saw his pursuer hard after him.\nHe thought of this expedient. He stopped and climbed a large pine-tree,\nstripped it of all its green foliage, and threw it to the winds, and\nthen went on. When Manabozho reached the spot, the tree addressed him.\n\n\"Great chief,\" said the tree, \"will you give me my life again?\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss has killed me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Manabozho; and it took him some time to gather the\nscattered foliage, and then renewed the pursuit. Paup-Puk-Keewiss\nrepeated the same thing with the hemlock, and with various other trees,\nfor Manabozho would always stop to restore what he had destroyed. By\nthis means he got in advance; but Manabozho persevered, and was fast\novertaking him, when Paup-Puk-Keewiss happened to see an elk. He asked\nhim to take him on his back, which the elk did, and for some time he\nmade great progress, but still Manabozho was in sight. Paup-Puk-Keewiss\ndismounted, and, coming to a large sandstone rock, he broke it in\npieces and scattered the grains. Manabozho was so close upon him at\nthis place that he had almost caught him; but the foundation of the\nrock cried out,\n\n\"Haye! Ne-me-sho, Paup-Puk-Keewiss has spoiled me. Will you not restore\nme to life?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Manabozho; and he restored the rock to its previous\nshape. He then pushed on in the pursuit of Paup-Puk-Keewiss, and had\ngot so near as to put out his arm to seize him; but Paup-Puk-Keewiss\ndodged him, and immediately raised such a dust and commotion by\nwhirlwinds as made the trees break, and the sand and leaves dance in\nthe air. Again and again Manabozho's hand was put out to catch him; but\nhe dodged him at every turn, and kept up such a tumult of dust, that in\nthe thickest of it, he dashed into a hollow tree which had been blown\ndown, and changed himself into a snake, and crept out at the roots.\nWell that he did; for at the moment he had got out, Manabozho, who is\nOgee-bau-ge-mon,[36] struck it with his power, and it was in fragments.\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss was again in human shape; again Manabozho pressed him\nhard. At a distance he saw a very high bluff of rock jutting out into\nthe lake, and ran for the foot of the precipice, which was abrupt and\nelevated. As he came near, the local manito of the rock opened his door\nand told him to come in. The door was no sooner closed than Manabozho\nknocked.\n\n\"Open it!\" he cried, with a loud voice.\n\nThe manito was afraid of him, but he said to his guest--\n\n\"Since I have sheltered you, I would sooner die with you than open the\ndoor.\n\n\"Open it!\" Manabozho again cried.\n\nThe manito kept silent. Manabozho, however, made no attempt to open it\nby force. He waited a few moments. \"Very well,\" he said; \"I give you\nonly till night to live.\" The manito trembled, for he knew he would be\nshut up under the earth.\n\nNight came. The clouds hung low and black, and every moment the forked\nlightning would flash from them. The black clouds advanced slowly, and\nthrew their dark shadows afar, and behind there was heard the rumbling\nnoise of the coming thunder. As they came near to the precipice, the\nthunders broke, the lightning flashed, the ground shook, and the solid\nrocks split, tottered, and fell. And under their ruins where crushed\nthe mortal bodies of Paup-Puk-Keewiss and the manito.\n\nIt was only then that Paup-Puk-Keewiss found he was really dead. He had\nbeen killed in different animal shapes; but now his body, in human\nshape, was crushed. Manabozho came and took their Jee-bi-ug, or\nspirits.\n\n\"You,\" said he to Paup-Puk-Keewiss, \"shall not be again permitted to\nlive on the earth. I will give you the shape of the war-eagle, and you\nwill be the chief of all fowls, and your duty shall be to watch over\ntheir destinies.\"\n\n      [31] This word appears to be derived from the same root as\n      _Paup-puk-ke-nay_, a grasshopper, the inflection iss making\n      it personal. The Indian idea is that of harum scarum. He is\n      regarded as a foil to Manabozho, with whom he is frequently\n      brought in contact in aboriginal story craft.\n\n      [32] This is an official who bears the pipe for the ruling chief,\n      and is an inferior dignity in councils.\n\n      [33] This is a studied perversion of the interjection _Ho_. In\n      another instance (vide Wassamo) it is rendered _Hoke_.\n\n      [34] We may mention, for the youth who may read these tales, that\n      beavers live by gnawing the bark of trees.\n\n      [35] Mats.\n\n      [36] A species of lightning.\n\n\n\n\nOSSEO,\n\nOR\n\nTHE SON OF THE EVENING STAR.\n\nALGONQUIN LEGEND.\n\n\nThere once lived an Indian in the north, who had ten daughters, all of\nwhom grew up to womanhood. They were noted for their beauty, but\nespecially Oweenee, the youngest, who was very independent in her way\nof thinking. She was a great admirer of romantic places, and paid very\nlittle attention to the numerous young men who came to her father's\nlodge for the purpose of seeing her. Her elder sisters were all\nsolicited in marriage from their parents, and one after another, went\noff to dwell in the lodges of their husbands, or mothers-in-law, but\nshe would listen to no proposals of the kind. At last she married an\nold man called OSSEO, who was scarcely able to walk, and was too poor\nto have things like others. They jeered and laughed at her, on all\nsides, but she seemed to be quite happy, and said to them, \"It is my\nchoice, and you will see in the end, who has acted the wisest.\" Soon\nafter, the sisters and their husbands and their parents were all\ninvited to a feast, and as they walked along the path, they could not\nhelp pitying their young and handsome sister, who had such an\nunsuitable mate. Osseo often stopped and gazed upwards, but they could\nperceive nothing in the direction he looked, unless it was the faint\nglimmering of the evening star. They heard him muttering to himself as\nthey went along, and one of the elder sisters caught the words,\n\"Sho-wain-ne-me-shin nosa.\"[37] \"Poor old man,\" said she, \"he is talking\nto his father, what a pity it is, that he would not fall and break his\nneck, that our sister might have a handsome young husband.\" Presently\nthey passed a large hollow log, lying with one end toward the path. The\nmoment Osseo, who was of the turtle totem, came to it, he stopped\nshort, uttered a loud and peculiar yell, and then dashing into one end\nof the log, he came out at the other, a most beautiful young man, and\nspringing back to the road, he led off the party with steps as light as\nthe reindeer.[38] But on turning round to look for his wife, behold, she\nhad been changed into an old, decrepit woman, who was bent almost\ndouble, and walked with a cane. The husband, however, treated her very\nkindly, as she had done him during the time of his enchantment, and\nconstantly addressed her by the term of ne-ne-moosh-a, or my sweetheart.\n\nWhen they came to the hunter's lodge with whom they were to feast, they\nfound the feast ready prepared, and as soon as their entertainer had\nfinished his harangue (in which he told them his feasting was in honor\nof the Evening or Woman's Star), they began to partake of the portion\ndealt out, according to age and character, to each one. The food was\nvery delicious, and they were all happy but Osseo, who looked at his\nwife and then gazed upward, as if he was looking into the substance of\nthe sky. Sounds were soon heard, as if from far-off voices in the air,\nand they became plainer and plainer, till he could clearly distinguish\nsome of the words.\n\n\"My son--my son,\" said the voice, \"I have seen your afflictions and\npity your wants. I come to call you away from a scene that is stained\nwith blood and tears. The earth is full of sorrows. Giants and\nsorcerers, the enemies of mankind, walk abroad in it, and are scattered\nthroughout its length. Every night they are lifting their voices to the\nPower of Evil, and every day they make themselves busy in casting evil\nin the hunter's path. You have long been their victim, but shall be\ntheir victim no more. The spell you were under is broken. Your evil\ngenius is overcome. I have cast him down by my superior strength, and\nit is this strength I now exert for your happiness. Ascend, my\nson--ascend into the skies, and partake of the feast I have prepared\nfor you in the stars, and bring with you those you love.\n\n\"The food set before you is enchanted and blessed. Fear not to partake\nof it. It is endowed with magic power to give immortality to mortals,\nand to change men to spirits. Your bowls and kettles shall be no longer\nwood and earth. The one shall become silver, and the other wampum. They\nshall shine like fire, and glisten like the most beautiful scarlet.\nEvery female shall also change her state and looks, and no longer be\ndoomed to laborious tasks. She shall put on the beauty of the\nstarlight, and become a shining bird of the air, clothed with shining\nfeathers. She shall dance and not work--she shall sing and not cry.\"\n\n\"My beams,\" continued the voice, \"shine faintly on your lodge, but they\nhave a power to transform it into the lightness of the skies, and\ndecorate it with the colors of the clouds. Come, Osseo, my son, and\ndwell no longer on earth. Think strongly on my words, and look\nsteadfastly at my beams. My power is now at its height. Doubt\nnot--delay not. It is the voice of the Spirit of the stars that calls\nyou away to happiness and celestial rest.\"\n\nThe words were intelligible to Osseo, but his companions thought them\nsome far-off sounds of music, or birds singing in the woods. Very soon\nthe lodge began to shake and tremble, and they felt it rising into the\nair. It was too late to run out, for they were already as high as the\ntops of the trees. Osseo looked around him as the lodge passed through\nthe topmost boughs, and behold! their wooden dishes were changed into\nshells of a scarlet color, the poles of the lodge to glittering wires of\nsilver, and the bark that covered them into the gorgeous wings of\ninsects. A moment more, and his brothers and sisters, and their parents\nand friends, were transformed into birds of various plumage. Some were\njays, some partridges and pigeons, and others gay singing birds, who\nhopped about displaying their glittering feathers, and singing their\nsong. But Oweenee still kept her earthly garb, and exhibited all the\nindications of extreme age. He again cast his eyes in the direction of\nthe clouds, and uttered that peculiar yell, which had given him the\nvictory at the hollow log. In a moment the youth and beauty of his wife\nreturned; her dingy garments assumed the shining appearance of green\nsilk, and her cane was changed into a silver feather. The lodge again\nshook and trembled, for they were now passing through the uppermost\nclouds, and they immediately after found themselves in the Evening Star,\nthe residence of Osseo's father.\n\n\"My son,\" said the old man, \"hang that cage of birds, which you have\nbrought along in your hand, at the door, and I will inform you why you\nand your wife have been sent for.\" Osseo obeyed the directions, and\nthen took his seat in the lodge. \"Pity was shown to you,\" resumed the\nking of the star, \"on account of the contempt of your wife's sister,\nwho laughed at her ill fortune, and ridiculed you while you were under\nthe power of that wicked spirit, whom you overcame at the log. That\nspirit lives in the next lodge, being a small star you see on the left\nof mine, and he has always felt envious of my family, because we had\ngreater power than he had, and especially on account of our having had\nthe care committed to us of the female world. He failed in several\nattempts to destroy your brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, but\nsucceeded at last in transforming yourself and your wife into decrepit\nold persons. You must be careful and not let the light of his beams\nfall on you, while you are here, for therein is the power of his\nenchantment; a ray of light is the bow and arrows he uses.\"\n\nOsseo lived happy and contented in the parental lodge, and in due time\nhis wife presented him with a son, who grew up rapidly, and was the\nimage of his father. He was very quick and ready in learning everything\nthat was done in his grandfather's dominions, but he wished also to\nlearn the art of hunting, for he had heard that this was a favorite\npursuit below. To gratify him, his father made him a bow and arrows,\nand he then let the birds out of the cage that he might practise in\nshooting. He soon became expert, and the very first day brought down a\nbird, but when he went to pick it up, to his amazement, it was a\nbeautiful young woman with the arrow sticking in her breast. It was one\nof his younger _aunts_. The moment her blood fell upon the surface of\nthat pure and spotless planet, the charm was dissolved. The boy\nimmediately found himself sinking, but was partly upheld, by something\nlike wings, till he passed through the lower clouds, and he then\nsuddenly dropped upon a high, romantic island in a large lake. He was\npleased on looking up, to see all his aunts and uncles following him in\nthe form of birds, and he soon discovered the silver lodge, with his\nfather and mother, descending with its waving barks looking like so\nmany insects' gilded wings. It rested on the highest cliffs of the\nisland, and here they fixed their residence. They all resumed their\nnatural _shapes_, but were diminished to the _size_ of fairies; as a\nmark of homage to the King of the Evening Star, they never failed, on\nevery pleasant evening, during the summer season, to join hands, and\ndance upon the top of the rocks. These rocks were quickly observed by\nthe Indians to be covered, in moonlight evenings, with a larger sort of\nPuk Wudj Ininees, or little men, and were called Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong,\nor turtle spirits, and the island is named from them to this day.[39]\nTheir shining lodge can be seen in the summer evenings when the moon\nshines strongly on the pinnacles of the rocks, and the fishermen, who\ngo near those high cliffs at night, have even heard the voices of the\nhappy little dancers.\n\n      [37] Pity me, my father.\n\n      [38] The C. Sylvestris inhabits North America, north of latitude\n      46 deg..\n\n      [39] Michilimackinac, the term alluded to, is the original French\n      orthography of Mish En I Mok In Ong, the _local_ form (sing. and\n      plu.), of Turtle Spirits.\n\n\n\n\nKWASIND,\n\nOR\n\nTHE FEARFULLY STRONG MAN.\n\n\nPauwating[40] was a village where the young men amused themselves very\nmuch in ancient times, in sports and ball-playing.\n\nOne day, as they were engaged in their sports, one of the strongest and\nmost active, at the moment he was about to succeed in a trial of\nlifting, slipped and fell upon his back. \"Ha! ha! ha!\" cried the\nlookers-on, \"you will never rival Kwasind.\" He was deeply mortified,\nand when the sport was over, these words came to his mind. He could not\nrecollect any man of this name. He thought he would ask the old man,\nthe story-teller of the village, the next time he came to the lodge.\nThe opportunity soon occurred.\n\n\"My grandfather,\" said he, \"who was Kwasind? I am very anxious to know\nwhat he could do.\"\n\n\"Kwasind,\" the old man replied, \"was a listless idle boy. He would not\nplay when the other boys played, and his parents could never get him to\ndo any kind of labor. He was always making excuses. His parents took\nnotice, however, that he fasted for days together, but they could not\nlearn what spirit he supplicated, or had chosen as the guardian spirit\nto attend him through life. He was so inattentive to his parents'\nrequests, that he, at last, became a subject of reproach.\n\n\"'Ah,' said his mother to him one day, 'is there any young man of your\nage, in all the village, who does so little for his parents? You\nneither hunt nor fish. You take no interest in anything, whether labor\nor amusement, which engages the attention of your equals in years. I\nhave often set my nets[41] in the coldest days of winter, without any\nassistance from you. And I have taken them up again, while you remained\ninactive at the lodge fire. Are you not ashamed of such idleness? Go, I\nbid you, and wring out that net, which I have just taken from the\nwater.'\n\n\"Kwasind saw that there was a determination to make him obey. He did\nnot, therefore, make any excuses, but went out and took up the net. He\ncarefully folded it, doubled and redoubled it, forming it into a roll,\nand then with an easy twist of his hands wrung it short off, with as\nmuch ease as if every twine had been a thin brittle fibre. Here they at\nonce saw the secret of his reluctance. He possessed supernatural\nstrength.\n\n\"After this, the young men were playing one day on the plain, where\nthere was lying one of those large, heavy, black pieces of rock, which\nManabozho is said to have cast at his father. Kwasind took it up with\nmuch ease, and threw it into the river. After this, he accompanied his\nfather on a hunting excursion into a remote forest. They came to a\nplace where the wind had thrown a great many trees into a narrow pass.\n'We must go the other way,' said the old man, 'it is impossible to get\nthe burdens through this place.' He sat down to rest himself, took out\nhis smoking apparatus, and gave a short time to reflection. When he had\nfinished, Kwasind had lifted away the largest pine trees, and pulled\nthem out of the path.\n\n\"Sailing one day in his canoe, Kwasind saw a large furred animal, which\nhe immediately recognized to be the king of beavers. He plunged into\nthe water in pursuit of it. His companions were in the greatest\nastonishment and alarm, supposing he would perish. He often dove down\nand remained a long time under water, pursuing the animal from island\nto island; and at last returned with the kingly prize. After this, his\nfame spread far and wide, and no hunter would presume to compete with\nhim.\n\n\"He helped Manabozho to clear away the obstructions in the streams, and\nto remove the great wind-falls of trees from the valleys, the better to\nfit them for the residence of man.\n\n\"He performed so many feats of strength and skill, that he excited the\nenvy of the Puck-wudj In-in-ee-sug, or fairies, who conspired against\nhis life. 'For,' said they, 'if this man is suffered to go on, in his\ncareer of strength and exploits, we shall presently have no work to\nperform. Our agency in the affairs of men must cease. He will undermine\nour power, and drive us, at last, into the water, where we must all\nperish, or be devoured by the wicked Neebanawbaig.'[42]\n\n\"The strength of Kwasind was all concentrated in the crown of his head.\nThis was, at the same time, the only vulnerable part of his body; and\nthere was but one species of weapon which could be successfully\nemployed in making any impression upon it. The fairies carefully hunted\nthrough the woods to find this weapon. It was the burr or seed vessel\nof the white pine. They gathered a quantity of this article, and\nwaylaid Kwasind at a point on the river, where the red rocks jut into\nthe water, forming rude castles--a point which he was accustomed to\npass in his canoe. They waited a long time, making merry upon these\nrocks, for it was a highly romantic spot. At last the wished-for object\nappeared; Kwasind came floating calmly down the stream, on the\nafternoon of a summer's day, languid with the heat of the weather, and\nalmost asleep. When his canoe came directly beneath the cliff, the\ntallest and stoutest fairy began the attack. Others followed his\nexample. It was a long time before they could hit the vulnerable part,\nbut success at length crowned their efforts, and Kwasind sunk, never to\nrise more.\n\n\"Ever since this victory, the Puck Wudj Ininee have made that point of\nrock a favorite resort. The hunters often hear them laugh, and see\ntheir little plumes shake as they pass this scene on light summer\nevenings.\n\n\"My son,\" continued the old man, \"take care that you do not imitate the\nfaults of Kwasind. If he had not so often exerted his strength merely\nfor the sake of _boasting_, he would not, perhaps, have made the\nfairies feel jealous of him. It is better to use the strength you have,\nin a quiet useful way, than to sigh after the possession of a giant's\npower. For if you run, or wrestle, or jump, or fire at a mark, only as\nwell as your equals in years, nobody will envy you. But if you would\nneeds be a Kwasind, you must expect a Kwasind's fate.\"\n\n      [40] _i.e._ Place of shallow cataract, named _Sault de Ste.\n      Marie_ on the arrival of the French. This is the _local_ form of\n      the word, the substantive proper terminates in Eeg.\n\n      [41] Nets are set in winter, in high northern latitudes, through\n      orifices cut in the ice.\n\n      [42] A kind of water spirits.\n\n\n\n\nTHE JEEBI,\n\nOR\n\nTWO GHOSTS.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nThere lived a hunter in the north who had a wife and one child. His\nlodge stood far off in the forest, several days' journey from any\nother. He spent his days in hunting, and his evenings in relating to\nhis wife the incidents that had befallen him. As game was very\nabundant, he found no difficulty in killing as much as they wanted.\nJust in all his acts, he lived a peaceful and happy life.\n\nOne evening during the winter season, it chanced that he remained out\nlater than usual, and his wife began to feel uneasy, for fear some\naccident had befallen him. It was already dark. She listened\nattentively, and at last heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Not\ndoubting it was her husband, she went to the door and beheld two\nstrange females. She bade them enter, and invited them to remain.\n\nShe observed that they were total strangers in the country. There was\nsomething so peculiar in their looks, air, and manner, that she was\nuneasy in their company. They would not come near the fire; they sat in\na remote part of the lodge, were shy and taciturn, and drew their\ngarments about them in such a manner as nearly to hide their faces. So\nfar as she could judge, they were pale, hollow-eyed, and long-visaged,\nvery thin and emaciated. There was but little light in the lodge, as\nthe fire was low, and served by its fitful flashes, rather to increase\nthan dispel their fears. \"Merciful spirit!\" cried a voice from the\nopposite part of the lodge, \"there are two corpses clothed with\ngarments.\" The hunter's wife turned around, but seeing nobody, she\nconcluded the sounds were but gusts of wind. She trembled, and was\nready to sink to the earth.\n\nHer husband at this moment entered and dispelled her fears. He threw\ndown the carcass of a large fat deer. \"Behold what a fine and fat\nanimal,\" cried the mysterious females, and they immediately ran and\npulled off pieces of the whitest fat,[43] which they ate with\ngreediness. The hunter and his wife looked on with astonishment, but\nremained silent. They supposed their guests might have been famished.\nNext day, however, the same unusual conduct was repeated. The strange\nfemales tore off the fat and devoured it with eagerness. The third day\nthe hunter thought he would anticipate their wants by tying up a\nportion of the fattest pieces for them, which he placed on the top of\nhis load. They accepted it, but still appeared dissatisfied, and went\nto the wife's portion and tore off more. The man and his wife felt\nsurprised at such rude and unaccountable conduct, but they remained\nsilent, for they respected their guests, and had observed that they had\nbeen attended with marked good luck during the residence of these\nmysterious visitors.\n\nIn other respects, the deportment of the females was strictly\nunexceptionable. They were modest, distant, and silent. They never\nuttered a word during the day. At night they would occupy themselves in\nprocuring wood, which they carried to the lodge, and then returning the\nimplements exactly to the places in which they had found them, resume\ntheir places without speaking. They were never known to stay out until\ndaylight. They never laughed or jested.\n\nThe winter had nearly passed away, without anything uncommon happening,\nwhen, one evening, the hunter stayed out very late. The moment he\nentered and laid down his day's hunt as usual before his wife, the two\nfemales began to tear off the fat, in so unceremonious a way, that her\nanger was excited. She constrained herself, however, in a measure, but\ndid not conceal her feelings, although she said but little. The guests\nobserved the excited state of her mind, and became unusually reserved\nand uneasy. The good hunter saw the change, and carefully inquired into\nthe cause, but his wife denied having used any hard words. They retired\nto their couches, and he tried to compose himself to sleep, but could\nnot, for the sobs and sighs of the two females were incessant. He arose\non his couch and addressed them as follows:--\n\n\"Tell me,\" said he, \"what is it that gives you pain of mind, and causes\nyou to utter those sighs. Has my wife given you offence, or trespassed\non the rights of hospitality?\"\n\nThey replied in the negative. \"We have been treated by you with\nkindness and affection. It is not for any slight we have received that\nwe weep. Our mission is not to you only. We come from the land of the\ndead to test mankind, and to try the sincerity of the living. Often we\nhave heard the bereaved by death say that if the dead could be\nrestored, they would devote their lives to make them happy. We have\nbeen moved by the bitter lamentations which have reached the place of\nthe dead, and have come to make proof of the sincerity of those who\nhave lost friends. Three moons were allotted us by the Master of Life\nto make the trial. More than half the time had been successfully past,\nwhen the angry feelings of your wife indicated the irksomeness you felt\nat our presence, and has made us resolve on our departure.\"\n\nThey continued to talk to the hunter and his wife, gave them\ninstructions as to a future life, and pronounced a blessing upon them.\n\n\"There is one point,\" they added, \"of which we wish to speak. You have\nthought our conduct very strange in rudely possessing ourselves of the\nchoicest parts of your hunt. _That_ was the point of trial selected to\nput you to. It is the wife's peculiar privilege. For another to usurp\nit, we knew to be the severest trial of her, and consequently of your\ntemper and feelings. We know your manners and customs, but we came to\nprove you, not by a compliance with them, but a violation of them.\nPardon us. We are the agents of him who sent us. Peace to your\ndwelling, adieu!\"\n\nWhen they ceased, total darkness filled the lodge. No object could be\nseen. The inmates heard the door open and shut, but they never saw more\nof the two Jeebi-ug.\n\nThe hunter found the success which they had promised. He became\ncelebrated in the chase, and never wanted for anything. He had many\nchildren, all of whom grew up to manhood, and health; peace, and long\nlife were the rewards of his hospitality.\n\n      [43] The fat of animals is esteemed by the N.A. Indians among\n      the choicest parts.\n\n\n\n\nIAGOO.\n\nCHIPPEWA.\n\n\nIagoo is the name of a personage noted in Indian lore for having given\nextravagant narrations of whatever he had seen, heard, or accomplished.\nIt seems that he always saw extraordinary things, made extraordinary\njourneys, and performed extraordinary feats. He could not look out of\nhis lodge and see things as other men did. If he described a bird, it\nhad a most singular variety of brilliant plumage. The animals he met\nwith were all of the monstrous kind; they had eyes like orbs of fire,\nand claws like hooks of steel, and could step over the top of an Indian\nlodge. He told of a serpent he had seen, which had hair on its neck\nlike a mane, and feet resembling a quadruped; and if one were to take\nhis own account of his exploits and observations, it would be difficult\nto decide whether his strength, his activity, or his wisdom should be\nmost admired.\n\nIagoo did not appear to have been endowed with the ordinary faculties\nof other men. His eyes appeared to be magnifiers, and the tympanum of\nhis ears so constructed that what appeared to common observers to be\nbut the sound of a zephyr, to him had a far closer resemblance to the\nnoise of thunder. His imagination appeared to be of so exuberant a\ncharacter, that he scarcely required more than a drop of water to\nconstruct an ocean, or a grain of sand to form the earth. And he had so\nhappy an exemption from both the restraints of judgment and moral\naccountability, that he never found the slightest difficulty in\naccommodating his facts to the most enlarged credulity. Nor was his\nample thirst for the marvellous ever quenched by attempts to reconcile\nstatements the most strange, unaccountable, and preposterous.\n\nSuch was Iagoo, the Indian story-teller, whose name is associated with\nall that is extravagant and marvellous, and has long been established\nin the hunter's vocabulary as a perfect synonym for liar, and is\nbandied about as a familiar proverb. If a hunter or warrior, in telling\nhis exploits, undertakes to embellish them; to overrate his merits, or\nin any other way to excite the incredulity of his hearers, he is liable\nto be rebuked with the remark, \"So here we have Iagoo come again.\" And\nhe seems to hold the relative rank in oral narration which our written\nliterature awards to Baron Munchausen, Jack Falstaff, and Captain\nLemuel Gulliver.\n\nNotwithstanding all this, there are but a few scraps of his actual\nstories to be found. He first attracted notice by giving an account of\na water lily, a single leaf of which, he averred, was sufficient to\nmake a petticoat and upper garments for his wife and daughter. One\nevening he was sitting in his lodge, on the banks of a river, and\nhearing the quacking of ducks on the stream, he fired through the lodge\ndoor at a venture. He killed a swan that happened to be flying by, and\ntwenty brace of ducks in the stream. But this did not check the force\nof his shot; they passed on, and struck the heads of two loons, at the\nmoment they were coming up from beneath the water, and even went beyond\nand killed a most extraordinary large fish called Moshkeenozha.[44] On\nanother occasion he had killed a deer, and after skinning it, was\ncarrying the carcass on his shoulders, when he spied some stately elks\non the plain before him. He immediately gave them chase, and had run,\nover hill and dale, a distance of half a day's travel, before he\nrecollected that he had the deer's carcass on his shoulders.\n\nOne day, as he was passing over a tract of _mushkeeg_ or bog-land, he\nsaw musquitoes of such enormous size, that he staked his reputation on\nthe fact that a single wing of one of the insects was sufficient for a\nsail to his canoe, and the proboscis as big as his wife's shovel. But\nhe was favored with a still more extraordinary sight, in a gigantic\nant, which passed him, as he was watching a beaver's lodge, dragging\nthe entire carcass of a hare.\n\nAt another time, for he was ever seeing or doing something wonderful,\nhe got out of smoking weed, and in going into the woods in search of\nsome, he discovered a bunch of the red willow, or maple bush, of such a\nluxuriant growth, that he was industriously occupied half a day walking\nround it.\n\n      [44] The muscalunge.\n\n\n\n\nSHAWONDASEE.\n\nFROM THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE ODJIBWAS.\n\n\nMudjekewis and nine brothers conquered the Mammoth Bear, and obtained\nthe Sacred Belt of Wampum, the great object of previous warlike\nenterprise, and the great means of happiness to men. The chief honor of\nthis achievement was awarded to Mudjekewis, the youngest of the ten, who\nreceived the government of the West Winds. He is therefore called\nKabeyun, the father of the winds. To his son, Wabun, he gave the East;\nto Shawondasee, the south, and to Kabibonokka, the north. Manabozho\nbeing an illegitimate son, was left unprovided. When he grew up, and\nobtained the secret of his birth, he went to war against his father,\nKabeyun, and having brought the latter to terms, he received the\ngovernment of the Northwest Winds, ruling jointly with his brother\nKabibonokka the tempests from that quarter of the heavens.\n\nShawondasee is represented as an affluent, plethoric old man, who has\ngrown unwieldy from repletion, and seldom moves. He keeps his eyes\nsteadfastly fixed on the north. When he sighs, in autumn, we have those\nbalmy southern airs, which communicate warmth and delight over the\nnorthern hemisphere, and make the _Indian Summer_.\n\nOne day, while gazing toward the north, he beheld a beautiful young\nwoman of slender and majestic form, standing on the plains. She\nappeared in the same place for several days, but what most attracted\nhis admiration, was her bright and flowing locks of yellow hair. Ever\ndilatory, however, he contented himself with gazing. At length he saw,\nor fancied he saw, her head enveloped in a pure white mass like snow.\nThis excited his jealousy toward his brother Kabibonokka, and he threw\nout a succession of short and rapid sighs--when lo! the air was filled\nwith light filaments of a silvery hue, but the object of his affections\nhad for ever vanished. In reality, the southern airs had blown off the\nfine-winged seed-vessels of the prairie dandelion.\n\n\"My son,\" said the narrator, \"it is not wise to differ in our tastes\nfrom other people; nor ought we to put off, through slothfulness, what\nis best done at once. Had Shawondasee conformed to the tastes of his\ncountrymen, he would not have been an admirer of _yellow_ hair; and if\nhe had evinced a proper activity in his youth, his mind would not have\nrun flower-gathering in his age.\"\n\n\n\n\nPUCK WUDJ ININEES,\n\nOR\n\nTHE VANISHING LITTLE MEN.\n\nAN ODJIBWA MYTH OF FAIRIES.\n\n\nThere was a time when all the inhabitants of the earth had died,\nexcepting two helpless children, a baby boy and a little girl. When\ntheir parents died, these children were asleep. The little girl, who\nwas the elder, was the first to wake. She looked around her, but seeing\nnobody besides her little brother, who lay asleep, she quietly resumed\nher bed. At the end of ten days her brother moved without opening his\neyes. At the end of ten days more he changed his position, lying on the\nother side.\n\nThe girl soon grew up to woman's estate, but the boy increased in\nstature very slowly. It was a long time before he could even creep. When\nhe was able to walk, his sister made him a little bow and arrows, and\nsuspended around his neck a small shell, saying, you shall be called\nWa-Dais-Ais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell. Every day he would go out\nwith his little bow, shooting at the small birds. The first bird he\nkilled was a tomtit. His sister was highly pleased when he took it to\nher. She carefully skinned and stuffed it, and put it away for him. The\nnext day he killed a red squirrel. His sister preserved this too. The\nthird day he killed a partridge (Peena), which she stuffed and set up.\nAfter this, he acquired more courage, and would venture some distance\nfrom home. His skill and success as a hunter daily increased, and he\nkilled the deer, bear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the\nforest. In fine he became a great hunter.\n\nHe had now arrived to maturity of years, but remained a perfect infant\nin stature. One day, walking about, he came to a small lake. It was in\nthe winter season. He saw a man on the ice killing beavers. He appeared\nto be a giant. Comparing himself to this great man he appeared no\nbigger than an insect. He seated himself on the shore, and watched his\nmovements. When the large man had killed many beavers, he put them on a\nhand sled which he had, and pursued his way home. When he saw him\nretire, he followed him, and wielding his magic shell, cut off the tail\nof one of the beavers, and ran home with his trophy. When the tall\nstranger reached his lodge, with his sled load of beavers, he was\nsurprised to find the tail of one of them gone, for he had not observed\nthe movements of the little hero of the shell.\n\nThe next day Wa-Dis-Ais-Imid, went to the same lake. The man had\nalready fixed his load of beavers on his _odaw'bon_, or sled, and\ncommenced his return. But he nimbly ran forward, and overtaking him,\nsucceeded, by the same means, in securing another of the beaver's\ntails. When the man saw that he had lost another of this most esteemed\npart of the animal, he was very angry. I wonder, said he, what dog it\nis, that has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I would make his flesh\nquiver at the point of my lance. Next day he pursued his hunting at the\nbeaver dam near the lake, and was followed again by the little man of\nthe shell. On this occasion the hunter had used so much expedition,\nthat he had accomplished his object, and nearly reached his home,\nbefore our tiny hero could overtake him. He nimbly drew his shell and\ncut off another beaver's tail. In all these pranks, he availed himself\nof his power of invisibility, and thus escaped observation. When the\nman saw that the trick had been so often repeated, his anger was\ngreater than ever. He gave vent to his feelings in words. He looked\ncarefully around to see whether he could discover any tracks. But he\ncould find none. His unknown visitor had stepped so lightly as to leave\nno track.\n\nNext day he resolved to disappoint him by going to his beaver pond very\nearly. When Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid reached the place, he found the fresh\ntraces of his work, but he had already returned. He followed his tracks,\nbut failed to overtake him. When he came in sight of the lodge the\nstranger was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers. As he\nstood looking at him, he thought, I will let him see me. Presently the\nman, who proved to be no less a personage than Manabozho, looked up and\nsaw him. After regarding him with attention, \"Who are you, little man,\"\nsaid Manabozho. \"I have a mind to kill you.\" The little hero of the\nshell replied, \"If you were to try to kill me you could not do it.\"\n\nWhen he returned home he told his sister that they must separate. \"I\nmust go away,\" said he, \"it is my fate. You too,\" he added, \"must go\naway soon. Tell me where you would wish to dwell.\" She said, \"I would\nlike to go to the place of the breaking of daylight. I have always\nloved the east. The earliest glimpses of light are from that quarter,\nand it is, to my mind, the most beautiful part of the heavens. After I\nget there, my brother, whenever you see the clouds in that direction of\nvarious colors, you may think that your sister is painting her face.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said he, \"my sister, shall live on the mountains and rocks.\nThere I can see you at the earliest hour, and there the streams of water\nare clear, and the air pure. And I shall ever be called Puck Wudj\nIninee, or the little wild man of the mountains.\"\n\n\"But,\" he resumed, \"before we part forever, I must go and try to find\nsome Manitoes.\" He left her, and travelled over the surface of the\nglobe, and then went far down into the earth. He had been treated well\nwherever he went. At last he found a giant Manito, who had a large\nkettle which was forever boiling. The giant regarded him with a stern\nlook, and then took him up in his hand, and threw him unceremoniously\ninto the kettle. But by the protection of his personal spirit, he was\nshielded from harm, and with much ado got out of it and escaped. He\nreturned to his sister, and related his rovings and misadventures. He\nfinished his story by addressing her thus: \"My sister, there is a\nManito, at each of the four corners of the earth.[45] There is also one\nabove them, far in the sky; and last,\" continued he, \"there is another,\nand wicked one, who lives deep down in the earth. We must now separate.\nWhen the winds blow from the four corners of the earth you must then\ngo. They will carry you to the place you wish. I go to the rocks and\nmountains, where my kindred will ever delight to dwell.\" He then took\nhis ball stick, and commenced running up a high mountain, whooping as\nhe went. Presently the winds blew, and, as he predicted, his sister was\nborne by them to the eastern sky, where she has ever since been, and\nher name is the Morning Star.\n\n    Blow, winds, blow! my sister lingers\n      For her dwelling in the sky,\n    Where the morn, with rosy fingers,\n      Shall her cheeks with vermil dye.\n\n    There, my earliest views directed,\n      Shall from her their color take,\n    And her smiles, through clouds reflected,\n      Guide me on, by wood or lake.\n\n    While I range the highest mountains,\n      Sport in valleys green and low,\n    Or beside our Indian fountains\n      Raise my tiny hip holla.\n\n      [45] The opinion that the earth is a square and level plain, and\n      that the winds blow from its four corners, is a very ancient\n      eastern opinion.\n\n\n\n\nPEZHIU AND WABOSE,\n\nOR\n\nTHE LYNX AND HARE.\n\nA CHIPPEWA FABLE.\n\n\nA lynx almost famished, met a hare one day in the woods, in the winter\nseason, when food was very scarce. The hare, however, stood up on a\nrock, and was safe from its enemy.\n\n\"Wabose,\" said the lynx, in a very kind manner, \"come here, my little\nwhite one,[46] I wish to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" replied the hare, \"I am afraid of you, and my mother told me\nnever to go and talk to strangers.\"\n\n\"You are very pretty,\" answered the lynx, \"and a very obedient child to\nyour parents, but you must know that I am a relative of yours. I wish\nto send some word to your lodge. Come down and see me.\"\n\nThe hare was pleased to be called pretty, and when she heard that it\nwas a relative, she jumped down from the place where she stood, and was\nimmediately torn in pieces by the lynx.[47]\n\n       [46] Such is the meaning of Wabose.\n\n       [47] Oneota.\n\n\n\n\nPEBOAN AND SEEGWUN.\n\nAN ALLEGORY OF WINTER AND SPRING.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nAn old man was sitting in his lodge, by the side of a frozen stream. It\nwas the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. He appeared very\nold and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and he trembled\nin every joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing\nbut the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the new-fallen snow.\n\nOne day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached\nand entered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth,\nhis eyes sparkled with animation, and a smile played upon his lips. He\nwalked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a\nwreath of sweet grass, in place of a warrior's frontlet, and he carried\na bunch of flowers in his hand.\n\n\"Ah, my son,\" said the old man, \"I am happy to see you. Come in. Come,\ntell me of your adventures, and what strange lands you have been to\nsee. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and\nexploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we will\namuse ourselves.\"\n\nHe then drew from his sack a curiously-wrought antique pipe, and having\nfilled it with tobacco, rendered mild by an admixture of certain\nleaves, handed it to his guest. When this ceremony was concluded they\nbegan to speak.\n\n\"I blow my breath,\" said the old man, \"and the streams stand still. The\nwater becomes stiff and hard as clear stone.\"\n\n\"I breathe,\" said the young man, \"and flowers spring up all over the\nplains.\"\n\n\"I shake my locks,\" retorted the old man, \"and snow covers the land.\nThe leaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them\naway. The birds get up from the water, and fly to a distant land. The\nanimals hide themselves from my breath, and the very ground becomes as\nhard as flint.\"\n\n\"I shake my ringlets,\" rejoined the young man, \"and warm showers of\nsoft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of\nthe earth, like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice\nrecalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music\nfills the groves wherever I walk, and all nature rejoices.\"\n\nAt length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place.\nThe tongue of the old man became silent. The robin and bluebird began\nto sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the\ndoor, and the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the\nvernal breeze.\n\nDaylight fully revealed to the young man the character of his\nentertainer. When he looked upon him, he had the icy visage of\nPeboan.[48] Streams began to flow from his eyes. As the sun increased,\nhe grew less and less in stature, and anon had melted completely away.\nNothing remained on the place of his lodge fire but the miskodeed,[49] a\nsmall white flower, with a pink border, which is one of the earliest\nspecies of northern plants.\n\n      [48] Winter.\n\n      [49] The Claytonia Virginica.\n\n\n\n\nMON-DAW-MIN,\n\nOR\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nIn times past, a poor Indian was living with his wife and children in a\nbeautiful part of the country. He was not only poor, but inexpert in\nprocuring food for his family, and his children were all too young to\ngive him assistance. Although poor, he was a man of a kind and\ncontented disposition. He was always thankful to the Great Spirit for\neverything he received. The same disposition was inherited by his\neldest son, who had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the\nceremony of the Ke-ig-uish-im-o-win, or fast, to see what kind of a\nspirit would be his guide and guardian through life. Wunzh, for this\nwas his name, had been an obedient boy from his infancy, and was of a\npensive, thoughtful, and mild disposition, so that he was beloved by\nthe whole family. As soon as the first indications of spring appeared,\nthey built him the customary little lodge at a retired spot, some\ndistance from their own, where he would not be disturbed during this\nsolemn rite. In the mean time he prepared himself, and immediately went\ninto it, and commenced his fast. The first few days, he amused himself,\nin the mornings, by walking in the woods and over the mountains,\nexamining the early plants and flowers, and in this way prepared\nhimself to enjoy his sleep, and, at the same time, stored his mind with\npleasant ideas for his dreams. While he rambled through the woods, he\nfelt a strong desire to know how the plants, herbs, and berries grew,\nwithout any aid from man, and why it was that some species were good to\neat, and others possessed medicinal or poisonous juices. He recalled\nthese thoughts to mind after he became too languid to walk about, and\nhad confined himself strictly to the lodge; he wished he could dream of\nsomething that would prove a benefit to his father and family, and to\nall others. \"True!\" he thought, \"the Great Spirit made all things, and\nit is to him that we owe our lives. But could he not make it easier for\nus to get our food, than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try\nto find out this in my visions.\"\n\nOn the third day he became weak and faint, and kept his bed. He\nfancied, while thus lying, that he saw a handsome young man coming down\nfrom the sky and advancing towards him. He was richly and gayly\ndressed, having on a great many garments of green and yellow colors,\nbut differing in their deeper or lighter shades. He had a plume of\nwaving feathers on his head, and all his motions were graceful.\n\n\"I am sent to you, my friend,\" said the celestial visitor, \"by that\nGreat Spirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has\nseen and knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind\nand benevolent wish to do good to your people, and to procure a benefit\nfor them, and that you do not seek for strength in war or the praise of\nwarriors. I am sent to instruct you, and show you how you can do your\nkindred good.\" He then told the young man to arise, and prepare to\nwrestle with him, as it was only by this means that he could hope to\nsucceed in his wishes. Wunzh knew he was weak from fasting, but he felt\nhis courage rising in his heart, and immediately got up, determined to\ndie rather than fail. He commenced the trial, and after a protracted\neffort, was almost exhausted, when the beautiful stranger said, \"My\nfriend, it is enough for once; I will come again to try you;\" and,\nsmiling on him, he ascended in the air in the same direction from which\nhe came. The next day the celestial visitor reappeared at the same hour\nand renewed the trial. Wunzh felt that his strength was even less than\nthe day before, but the courage of his mind seemed to increase in\nproportion as his body became weaker. Seeing this, the stranger again\nspoke to him in the same words he used before, adding, \"Tomorrow will\nbe your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is the only way you\ncan overcome me, and obtain the boon you seek.\" On the third day he\nagain appeared at the same time and renewed the struggle. The poor\nyouth was very faint in body, but grew stronger in mind at every\ncontest, and was determined to prevail or perish in the attempt. He\nexerted his utmost powers, and after the contest had been continued the\nusual time, the stranger ceased his efforts and declared himself\nconquered. For the first time he entered the lodge, and sitting down\nbeside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to him, telling\nhim in what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his victory.\n\n\"You have won your desires of the Great Spirit,\" said the stranger.\n\"You have wrestled manfully. To-morrow will be the seventh day of your\nfasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and as it is\nthe last day of trial, you will prevail. I know this, and now tell you\nwhat you must do to benefit your family and your tribe. To-morrow,\" he\nrepeated, \"I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the last time;\nand, as soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off my\ngarments and throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it\nsoft, and bury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body\nin the earth, and do not disturb it, but come occasionally to visit the\nplace, to see whether I have come to life, and be careful never to let\nthe grass or weeds grow on my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh\nearth. If you follow my instructions, you will accomplish your object\nof doing good to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I\nnow teach you.\" He then shook him by the hand and disappeared.\n\nIn the morning the youth's father came with some slight refreshments,\nsaying, \"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will\nfavor you, he will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted\nfood, and you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not\nrequire that.\" \"My father,\" replied the youth, \"wait till the sun goes\ndown. I have a particular reason for extending my fast to that hour.\"\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, \"I shall wait till the hour arrives, and\nyou feel inclined to eat.\"\n\nAt the usual hour of the day the sky-visitor returned, and the trial of\nstrength was renewed. Although the youth had not availed himself of his\nfather's offer of food, he felt that new strength had been given to\nhim, and that exertion had renewed his strength and fortified his\ncourage. He grasped his angelic antagonist with supernatural strength,\nthrew him down, took from him his beautiful garments and plume, and\nfinding him dead, immediately buried him on the spot, taking all the\nprecautions he had been told of, and being very confident, at the same\ntime, that his friend would again come to life. He then returned to his\nfather's lodge, and partook sparingly of the meal that had been\nprepared for him. But he never for a moment forgot the grave of his\nfriend. He carefully visited it throughout the spring, and weeded out\nthe grass, and kept the ground in a soft and pliant state. Very soon he\nsaw the tops of the green plumes coming through the ground; and the\nmore careful he was to obey his instructions in keeping the ground in\norder, the faster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal the\nexploit from his father. Days and weeks had passed in this way. The\nsummer was now drawing towards a close, when one day, after a long\nabsence in hunting, Wunzh invited his father to follow him to the quiet\nand lonesome spot of his former fast. The lodge had been removed, and\nthe weeds kept from growing on the circle where it stood, but in its\nplace stood a tall and graceful plant, with bright-colored silken hair,\nsurmounted with nodding plumes and stately leaves, and golden clusters\non each side. \"It is my friend,\" shouted the lad; \"it is the friend of\nall mankind. It is _Mondawmin_.[50] We need no longer rely on hunting\nalone; for, as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the\nground itself will give us a living.\" He then pulled an ear. \"See, my\nfather,\" said he, \"this is what I fasted for. The great Spirit has\nlistened to my voice, and sent us something new,[51] and henceforth our\npeople will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters.\"\n\nHe then communicated to his father the instructions given him by the\nstranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he had\npulled off the garments in his wrestling; and having done this,\ndirected him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer\nskin became brown, while all the milk was retained in the grain. The\nwhole family then united in a feast on the newly-grown ears, expressing\ngratitude to the Merciful Spirit who gave it. So corn came into the\nworld.\n\n      [50] The Algic name for corn. The word is manifestly a trinary\n      compound from _monedo_, spirit; _min_, a grain or berry; and\n      _iaw_, the verb substantive.\n\n      [51] The Zea mays, it will be recollected, is indigenous to\n      America, and was unknown in Europe before 1495.\n\n\n\n\nNEZHIK-E-WA-WA-SUN,\n\nOR\n\nTHE LONE LIGHTNING.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nA little orphan boy who had no one to care for him, was once living\nwith his uncle, who treated him very badly, making him do hard things\nand giving him very little to eat; so that the boy pined away, he never\ngrew much, and became, through hard usage, very thin and light. At last\nthe uncle felt ashamed of this treatment, and determined to make amends\nfor it, by fattening him up, but his real object was, to kill him by\nover-feeding. He told his wife to give the boy plenty of bear's meat,\nand let him have the fat, which is thought to be the best part. They\nwere both very assiduous in cramming him, and one day came near choking\nhim to death, by forcing the fat down his throat. The boy escaped and\nfled from the lodge. He knew not where to go, but wandered about. When\nnight came on, he was afraid the wild beasts would eat him, so he\nclimbed up into the forks of a high pine tree, and there he fell asleep\nin the branches, and had an aupoway, or ominous dream.\n\nA person appeared to him from the upper sky, and said, \"My poor little\nlad, I pity you, and the bad usage you have received from your uncle\nhas led me to visit you: follow me, and step in my tracks.\" Immediately\nhis sleep left him, and he rose up and followed his guide, mounting up\nhigher and higher into the air, until he reached the upper sky. Here\ntwelve arrows were put into his hands, and he was told that there were\na great many manitoes in the northern sky, against whom he must go to\nwar, and try to waylay and shoot them. Accordingly he went to that part\nof the sky, and, at long intervals, shot arrow after arrow, until he\nhad expended eleven, in vain attempt to kill the manitoes. At the\nflight of each arrow, there was a long and solitary streak of lightning\nin the sky--then all was clear again, and not a cloud or spot could be\nseen. The twelfth arrow he held a long time in his hands, and looked\naround keenly on every side to spy the manitoes he was after. But these\nmanitoes were very cunning, and could change their form in a moment.\nAll they feared was the boy's arrows, for these were magic arrows,\nwhich had been given to him by a good spirit, and had power to kill\nthem, if aimed aright. At length, the boy drew up his last arrow,\nsettled in his aim, and let fly, as he thought, into the very heart of\nthe chief of the manitoes; but before the arrow reached him, the manito\nchanged himself into a rock. Into this rock, the head of the arrow sank\ndeep and stuck fast.\n\n\"Now your gifts are all expended,\" cried the enraged manito, \"and I\nwill make an example of your audacity and pride of heart, for lifting\nyour bow against me\"--and so saying, he transformed the boy into the\nNezhik-e-wae wae sun, or Lone Lightning, which may be observed in the\nnorthern sky, to this day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AK UK O JEESH,\n\nOR\n\nTHE GROUNDHOG FAMILY.\n\nAN ODJIBWA FABLE.\n\n\nA female akukojeesh, or groundhog, with a numerous family of young\nones, was burrowing in her wauzh, or hole in the ground, one long\nwinter, in the north, when the young ones became impatient for spring.\nEvery day the mother would go out and get roots and other things, which\nshe brought in to them to eat; and she always told them to lie close\nand keep warm, and never to venture towards the mouth of the wauzh. But\nthey became very impatient at last to see the light and the green\nwoods. \"Mother,\" said they, \"is it not almost spring?\" \"No! no!\" said\nshe, in a cross humor, \"keep still and wait patiently; it hails, it\nsnows, it is cold--it is windy. Why should you wish to go out?\" This\nshe told them so often, and said it in such a bad temper, that they at\nlast suspected some deception. One day she came in, after having been a\nlong while absent, and fell asleep, with her mouth open. The little\nones peeped in slily, and saw on her teeth the remains of the nice\nwhite bulbous roots of the mo-na-wing, or adder's tongue violet. They\nat once knew it was spring, and without disturbing the old one, who\nonly wanted to keep them in till they were full grown, away they\nscampered, out of the hole, and dispersed themselves about the forest,\nand so the family were all scattered.\n\n\n\n\nOPEECHEE,\n\nOR\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIN.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nAn old man had an only son named Opeechee, who had come to that age\nwhich is thought to be most proper to make the long and final fast,\nthat is to secure through life a guardian genius or spirit. In the\ninfluence of this choice, it is well known, our people have relied for\ntheir prosperity in after life; it was, therefore, an event of deep\nimportance.\n\nThe old man was ambitious that his son should surpass all others in\nwhatever was deemed most wise and great among his tribe; and, to fulfil\nhis wishes, he thought it necessary that he should fast a much longer\ntime than any of those persons, renowned for their prowess or wisdom,\nwhose fame he coveted. He therefore directed his son to prepare, with\ngreat ceremony, for the important event. After he had been in the\nsweating lodge and bath several times, he ordered him to lie down upon\na clean mat, in a little lodge expressly prepared for him; telling him,\nat the same time, to endure his fast like a man, and that, at the\nexpiration of _twelve_ days, he should receive food and the blessing of\nhis father.\n\nThe lad carefully observed this injunction, lying with perfect\ncomposure, with his face covered, awaiting those mystic visitations\nwhich were to seal his good or evil fortune. His father visited him\nregularly every morning, to encourage him to perseverance, expatiating\nat length on the honor and renown that would attend him through life if\nhe accomplished the full term prescribed. To these admonitions and\nencouragements the boy never replied, but lay, without the least sign\nof discontent or murmuring, until the ninth day, when he addressed his\nfather as follows:--\n\n\"My father, my dreams forebode evil. May I break my fast now, and at a\nmore propitious time make a new fast?\" The father answered--\n\n\"My son, you know not what you ask. If you get up now, all your glory\nwill depart. Wait patiently a little longer. You have but three days\nyet to accomplish your desire. You know it is for your own good, and I\nencourage you to persevere.\"\n\nThe son assented; and, covering himself closer, he lay till the\neleventh day, when he repeated his request. Very nearly the same answer\nwas given him by his father, who added that the next day he would\nhimself prepare his first meal, and bring it to him. The boy remained\nsilent, but lay as motionless as a corpse. No one would have known he\nwas living but by the gentle heaving of his breast.\n\nThe next morning, the father, elated at having gained his end, prepared\na repast for his son, and hastened to set it before him. On coming to\nthe door, he was surprised to hear his son talking to himself. He\nstooped to listen; and, looking through a small aperture, was more\nastonished when he beheld his son painted with vermilion over all his\nbreast, and in the act of finishing his work by laying on the paint as\nfar back on his shoulders as he could reach with his hands, saying, at\nthe same time, to himself, \"My father has destroyed my fortune as a\nman. He would not listen to my requests. He will be the loser. I shall\nbe forever happy in my new state, for I have been obedient to my\nparent; he alone will be the sufferer, for my guardian spirit is a just\none; though not propitious to me in the manner I desired, he has shown\nme pity in another way; he has given me another shape; and now I must\ngo.\"\n\nAt this moment the old man broke in, exclaiming, \"My son! my son! I\npray you leave me not.\" But the young man, with the quickness of a\nbird, had flown to the top of the lodge, and perched himself on the\nhighest pole, having been changed into a beautiful robin redbreast.\n\nHe looked down upon his father with pity beaming in his eyes, and\naddressed him as follows: \"Regret not, my father, the change you\nbehold. I shall be happier in my present state than I could have been\nas a man. I shall always be the friend of men, and keep near their\ndwellings. I shall ever be happy and contented; and although I could\nnot gratify your wishes as a warrior, it will be my daily aim to make\nyou amends for it as a harbinger of peace and joy. I will cheer you by\nmy songs, and strive to inspire in others the joy and lightsomeness I\nfeel in my present state. This will be some compensation to you for the\nloss of the glory you expected. I am now free from the cares and pains\nof human life. My food is spontaneously furnished by the mountains and\nfields, and my pathway of life is in the bright air.\" Then stretching\nhimself on his toes, as if delighted with the gift of wings, he\ncarolled one of his sweetest songs, and flew away into a neighboring\ngrove.[52]\n\n      [52] See Notes of the Pibbigwun.\n\n\n\n\nSHINGEBISS.\n\nAN ALLEGORY OF SELF-RELIANCE.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nThere was once a Shingebiss, the name of the fall duck living alone, in\na solitary lodge, on the shores of the deep bay of a lake, in the\ncoldest winter weather. The ice had formed on the water, and he had but\nfour logs of wood to keep his fire. Each of these would, however, burn\na month, and as there were but four cold winter months, they were\nsufficient to carry him through till spring.\n\nShingebiss was hardy and fearless, and cared for no one. He would go\nout during the coldest day, and seek for places where flags and rushes\ngrew through the ice, and plucking them up with his bill, would dive\nthrough the openings, in quest of fish. In this way he found plenty of\nfood, while others were starving, and he went home daily to his lodge,\ndragging strings of fish after him, on the ice.\n\nKabebonicca[53] observed him, and felt a little piqued at his\nperseverance and good luck in defiance of the severest blasts of wind\nhe could send from the northwest. \"Why! this is a wonderful man,\" said\nhe; \"he does not mind the cold, and appears as happy and contented as\nif it were the month of June. I will try whether he cannot be\nmastered.\" He poured forth tenfold colder blasts, and drifts of snow,\nso that it was next to impossible to live in the open air. Still, the\nfire of Shingebiss did not go out: he wore but a single strip of\nleather around his body, and he was seen, in the worst weather,\nsearching the shores for rushes, and carrying home fish.\n\n\"I shall go and visit him,\" said Kabebonicca, one day, as he saw\nShingebiss dragging along a quantity of fish. And, accordingly, that\nvery night, he went to the door of his lodge. Meantime Shingebiss had\ncooked his fish, and finished his meal, and was lying, partly on his\nside, before the fire, singing his songs. After Kabebonicca had come to\nthe door, and stood listening there, he sang as follows:--\n\n    Ka       Neej       Ka       Neej\n    Be       In         Be       In\n    Bon      In         Bon      In\n    Oc       Ee.        Oc       Ee.\n    Ca       We-ya!     Ca       We-ya!\n\nThe number of words, in this song, are few and simple, but they are\nmade up from compounds which carry the whole of their original\nmeanings, and are rather suggestive of the ideas floating in the mind\nthan actual expressions of those ideas. Literally, he sings:--\n\n    Spirit of the Northwest--you are but my fellow man.\n\nBy being broken into syllables, to correspond with a simple chant, and\nby the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words\nare expanded into melodious utterance, if we may be allowed the term,\nand may be thus rendered:--\n\n    Windy god, I know your plan,\n    You are but my fellow man;\n    Blow you may your coldest breeze,\n    Shingebiss you cannot freeze.\n    Sweep the strongest wind you can,\n    Shingebiss is still your man;\n    Heigh! for life--and ho! for bliss,\n    Who so free as Shingebiss?\n\nThe hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he felt his cold\nand strong breath; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter\nindifference. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the\nopposite side of the lodge. But Shingebiss did not regard, or notice\nhim. He got up, as if nobody were present, and taking his poker, pushed\nthe log, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating, as he sat down\nagain:--\n\n    You are but my fellow man.\n\nVery soon the tears began to flow down Kabebonicca's cheeks, which\nincreased so fast, that, presently, he said to himself: \"I cannot stand\nthis--I must go out.\" He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs; but\nresolved to freeze up all the flag orifices, and make the ice thick, so\nthat he could not get any more fish. Still, Shingebiss, by dint of\ngreat diligence, found means to pull up new roots, and dive under for\nfish. At last, Kabebonicca was compelled to give up the contest. \"He\nmust be aided by some Monedo,\" said he. \"I can neither freeze him nor\nstarve him; he is a very singular being--I will let him alone.\"\n\n      [53] A personification of the Northwest.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STAR FAMILY,\n\nOR\n\nCELESTIAL SISTERS.\n\nSHAWNEE.\n\n\nWaupee, or the White Hawk, lived in a remote part of the forest, where\nanimals and birds were abundant. Every day he returned from the chase\nwith the reward of his toil, for he was one of the most skilful and\ncelebrated hunters of his tribe. With a tall, manly form, and the fire\nof youth beaming from his eye, there was no forest too gloomy for him\nto penetrate, and no track made by the numerous kinds of birds and\nbeasts which he could not follow.\n\nOne day he penetrated beyond any point which he had before visited. He\ntravelled through an open forest, which enabled him to see a great\ndistance. At length he beheld a light breaking through the foliage,\nwhich made him sure that he was on the borders of a prairie. It was a\nwide plain covered with grass and flowers. After walking some time\nwithout a path, he suddenly came to a ring worn through the sod, as if\nit had been made by footsteps following a circle. But what excited his\nsurprise was, that there was no path leading to or from it. Not the\nleast trace of footsteps could be found, even in a crushed leaf or\nbroken twig. He thought he would hide himself, and lie in wait to see\nwhat this circle meant. Presently he heard the faint sounds of music in\nthe air. He looked up in the direction they came from, and saw a small\nobject descending from above. At first it looked like a mere speck, but\nrapidly increased, and, as it came down, the music became plainer and\nsweeter. It assumed the form of a basket, and was filled with twelve\nsisters of the most lovely forms and enchanting beauty. As soon as the\nbasket touched the ground, they leaped out, and began to dance round\nthe magic ring, striking, as they did so, a shining ball as we strike\nthe drum. Waupee gazed upon their graceful forms and motions from his\nplace of concealment. He admired them all, but was most pleased with\nthe youngest. Unable longer to restrain his admiration, he rushed out\nand endeavored to seize her. But the sisters, with the quickness of\nbirds, the moment they descried the form of a man, leaped back into the\nbasket and were drawn up into the sky.\n\nRegretting his ill luck and indiscretion, he gazed till he saw them\ndisappear, and then said, \"They are gone, and I shall see them no\nmore.\" He returned to his solitary lodge, but found no relief to his\nmind. Next day he went back to the prairie, and took his station near\nthe ring; but in order to deceive the sisters, he assumed the form of\nan opossum. He had not waited long, when he saw the wicker car descend,\nand heard the same sweet music. They commenced the same sportive dance,\nand seemed even more beautiful and graceful than before. He crept\nslowly towards the ring, but the instant the sisters saw him they were\nstartled, and sprang into their car. It rose but a short distance, when\none of the elder sisters spoke. \"Perhaps,\" said she, \"it is come to\nshow us how the game is played by mortals.\" \"Oh no!\" the youngest\nreplied; \"quick, let us ascend.\" And all joining in a chant, they rose\nout of sight.\n\nWaupee returned to his own form again, and walked sorrowfully back to\nhis lodge. But the night seemed a very long one, and he went back\nbetimes the next day. He reflected upon the sort of plan to follow to\nsecure success. He found an old stump near by, in which there were a\nnumber of mice. He thought their small form would not create alarm, and\naccordingly assumed it. He brought the stump and sat it up near the\nring. The sisters came down and resumed their sport. \"But see,\" cried\nthe younger sister, \"that stump was not there before.\" She ran\naffrighted towards the car. They only smiled, and gathering round the\nstump, struck it in jest, when out ran the mice, and Waupee among the\nrest. They killed them all but one, which was pursued by the youngest\nsister; but just as she had raised her stick to kill it, the form of\nWaupee arose, and he clasped his prize in his arms. The other eleven\nsprang to their basket and were drawn up to the skies.\n\nHe exerted all his skill to please his bride and win her affections. He\nwiped the tears from her eyes. He related his adventures in the chase.\nHe dwelt upon the charms of life on the earth. He was incessant in his\nattentions, and picked out the way for her to walk as he led her gently\ntowards his lodge. He felt his heart glow with joy as she entered it,\nand from that moment he was one of the happiest of men. Winter and\nsummer passed rapidly away, and their happiness was increased by the\naddition of a beautiful boy to their lodge. She was a daughter of one\nthe stars, and as the scenes of earth began to pall her sight, she\nsighed to revisit her father. But she was obliged to hide these\nfeelings from her husband. She remembered the charm that would carry\nher up, and took occasion, while Waupee was engaged in the chase, to\nconstruct a wicker basket, which she kept concealed. In the mean time\nshe collected such rarities from the earth as she thought would please\nher father, as well as the most dainty kinds of food. When all was in\nreadiness, she went out one day, while Waupee was absent, to the\ncharmed ring, taking her little son with her. As soon as they got into\nthe car, she commenced her song and the basket rose. As the song was\nwafted by the wind, it caught her husband's ear. It was a voice which\nhe well knew, and he instantly ran to the prairie. But he could not\nreach the ring before he saw his wife and child ascend. He lifted up\nhis voice in loud appeals, but they were unavailing. The basket still\nwent up. He watched it till it became a small speck, and finally it\nvanished in the sky. He then bent his head down to the ground, and was\nmiserable.\n\nWaupee bewailed his loss through a long winter and a long summer. But\nhe found no relief. He mourned his wife's loss sorely, but his son's\nstill more. In the mean time his wife had reached her home in the\nstars, and almost forgot, in the blissful employments there, that she\nhad left a husband on the earth. She was reminded of this by the\npresence of her son, who, as he grew up, became anxious to visit the\nscene of his birth. His grandfather said to his daughter one day, \"Go,\nmy child, and take your son down to his father, and ask him to come up\nand live with us. But tell him to bring along a specimen of each kind\nof bird and animal he kills in the chase.\" She accordingly took the boy\nand descended. Waupee, who was ever near the enchanted spot, heard her\nvoice as she came down the sky. His heart beat with impatience as he\nsaw her form and that of his son, and they were soon clasped in his\narms.\n\nHe heard the message of the Star, and began to hunt with the greatest\nactivity, that he might collect the present. He spent whole nights, as\nwell as days, in searching for every curious and beautiful bird or\nanimal. He only preserved a tail, foot, or wing of each, to identify\nthe species; and, when all was ready, they went to the circle and were\ncarried up.\n\nGreat joy was manifested on their arrival at the starry plains. The\nStar Chief invited all his people to a feast, and, when they had\nassembled, he proclaimed aloud, that each one might take of the earthly\ngifts such as he liked best. A very strange confusion immediately\narose. Some chose a foot, some a wing, some a tail, and some a claw.\nThose who selected tails or claws were changed into animals, and ran\noff; the others assumed the form of birds, and flew away. Waupee chose\na white hawk's feather. His wife and son followed his example, when\neach one became a white hawk. Pleased with his transformation, and new\nvitality, the chief spread out gracefully his white wings, and followed\nby his wife and son, descended to the earth, where the species are\nstill to be found.\n\n\n\n\nOJEEG ANNUNG,[54]\n\nOR\n\nTHE SUMMER-MAKER.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nThere lived a celebrated hunter on the southern shores of Lake\nSuperior, who was considered a Manito by some, for there was nothing\nbut what he could accomplish. He lived off the path, in a wild,\nlonesome, place, with a wife whom he loved, and they were blessed with\na son, who had attained his thirteenth year. The hunter's name was\nOjeeg, or the Fisher, which is the name of an expert, sprightly little\nanimal common to the region. He was so successful in the chase, that he\nseldom returned without bringing his wife and son a plentiful supply of\nvenison, or other dainties of the woods. As hunting formed his constant\noccupation, his son began early to emulate his father in the same\nemployment, and would take his bow and arrows, and exert his skill in\ntrying to kill birds and squirrels. The greatest impediment he met\nwith, was the coldness and severity of the climate. He often returned\nhome, his little fingers benumbed with cold, and crying with vexation\nat his disappointment. Days, and months, and years passed away, but\nstill the same perpetual depth of snow was seen, covering all the\ncountry as with a white cloak.\n\nOne day, after a fruitless trial of his forest skill, the little boy\nwas returning homeward with a heavy heart, when he saw a small red\nsquirrel gnawing the top of a pine bur. He had approached within a\nproper distance to shoot, when the squirrel sat up on its hind legs and\nthus addressed him:--\n\n\"My grandchild, put up your arrows, and listen to what I have to tell\nyou.\" The boy complied rather reluctantly, when the squirrel continued:\n\"My son, I see you pass frequently, with your fingers benumbed with\ncold, and crying with vexation for not having killed any birds. Now, if\nyou will follow my advice, we will see if you cannot accomplish your\nwishes. If you will strictly pursue my advice, we will have perpetual\nsummer, and you will then have the pleasure of killing as many birds as\nyou please; and I will also have something to eat, as I am now myself\non the point of starvation.\n\n\"Listen to me. As soon as you get home you must commence crying. You\nmust throw away your bow and arrows in discontent. If your mother asks\nyou what is the matter, you must not answer her, but continue crying\nand sobbing. If she offers you anything to eat, you must push it away\nwith apparent discontent, and continue crying. In the evening, when\nyour father returns from hunting, he will inquire of your mother what\nis the matter with you. She will answer that you came home crying, and\nwould not so much as mention the cause to her. All this while you must\nnot leave off sobbing. At last your father will say, 'My son, why is\nthis unnecessary grief? Tell me the cause. You know I am a spirit, and\nthat nothing is impossible for me to perform.' You must then answer\nhim, and say that you are sorry to see the snow continually on the\nground, and ask him if he could not cause it to melt, so that we might\nhave perpetual summer. Say it in a supplicating way, and tell him this\nis the cause of your grief. Your father will reply, 'It is very hard to\naccomplish your request, but for your sake, and for my love for you, I\nwill use my utmost endeavors.' He will tell you to be still, and cease\ncrying. He will try to bring summer with all its loveliness. You must\nthen be quiet, and eat that which is set before you.\"\n\nThe squirrel ceased. The boy promised obedience to his advice, and\ndeparted. When he reached home, he did as he had been instructed, and\nall was exactly fulfilled, as it had been predicted by the squirrel.\n\nOjeeg told him that it was a great undertaking. He must first make a\nfeast, and invite some of his friends to accompany him on a journey.\nNext day he had a bear roasted whole. All who had been invited to the\nfeast came punctually to the appointment. There were the Otter, Beaver,\nLynx, Badger, and Wolverine. After the feast, they arranged it among\nthemselves to set out on the contemplated journey in three days. When\nthe time arrived, the Fisher took leave of his wife and son, as he\nforesaw that it was for the last time. He and his companions travelled\nin company day after day, meeting with nothing but the ordinary\nincidents. On the twentieth day they arrived at the foot of a high\nmountain, where they saw the tracks of some person who had recently\nkilled an animal, which they knew by the blood that marked the way. The\nFisher told his friends that they ought to follow the track, and see if\nthey could not procure something to eat. They followed it for some\ntime; at last they arrived at a lodge, which had been hidden from their\nview by a hollow in the mountain. Ojeeg told his friends to be very\nsedate, and not to laugh on any account. The first object that they saw\nwas a man standing at the door of the lodge, but of so deformed a shape\nthat they could not possibly make out who or what sort of a man it\ncould be. His head was enormously large; he had such a queer set of\nteeth, and no arms. They wondered how he could kill animals. But the\nsecret was soon revealed. He was a great Manito. He invited them to\npass the night, to which they consented.\n\nHe boiled his meat in a hollow vessel made of wood, and took it out of\nthis singular kettle in some way unknown to his guests. He carefully\ngave each their portion to eat, but made so many odd movements that the\nOtter could not refrain from laughing, for he is the only one who is\nspoken of as a jester. The Manito looked at him with a terrible look,\nand then made a spring at him, and got on him to smother him, for that\nwas his mode of killing animals. But the Otter, when he felt him on his\nneck, slipped his head back and made for the door, which he passed in\nsafety; but went out with the curse of the Manito. The others passed\nthe night, and they conversed on different subjects. The Manito told\nthe Fisher that he would accomplish his object, but that it would\nprobably cost him his life. He gave them his advice, directed them how\nto act, and described a certain road which they must follow, and they\nwould thereby be led to the place of action.\n\nThey set off in the morning, and met their friend, the Otter, shivering\nwith cold; but Ojeeg had taken care to bring along some of the meat\nthat had been given him, which he presented to his friend. They pursued\ntheir way, and travelled twenty days more before they got to the place\nwhich the Manito had told them of. It was a most lofty mountain. They\nrested on its highest peak to fill their pipes and refresh themselves.\nBefore smoking, they made the customary ceremony, pointing to the\nheavens, the four winds, the earth, and the zenith; in the mean time,\nspeaking in a loud voice, addressed the Great Spirit, hoping that their\nobject would be accomplished. They then commenced smoking.\n\nThey gazed on the sky in silent admiration and astonishment, for they\nwere on so elevated a point, that it appeared to be only a short\ndistance above their heads. After they had finished smoking, they\nprepared themselves. Ojeeg told the Otter to make the first attempt to\ntry and make a hole in the sky. He consented with a grin. He made a\nleap, but fell down the hill stunned by the force of his fall; and the\nsnow being moist, and falling on his back, he slid with velocity down\nthe side of the mountain. When he found himself at the bottom, he\nthought to himself, it is the last time I make such another jump, so I\nwill make the best of my way home. Then it was the turn of the Beaver,\nwho made the attempt, but fell down senseless; then of the Lynx and\nBadger, who had no better success.\n\n\"Now,\" says Fisher to the Wolverine, \"try your skill; your ancestors\nwere celebrated for their activity, hardihood, and perseverance, and I\ndepend on you for success. Now make the attempt.\" He did so, but also\nwithout success. He leaped the second time, but now they could see that\nthe sky was giving way to their repeated attempts. Mustering strength,\nhe made the third leap, and went in. The Fisher nimbly followed him.\n\nThey found themselves in a beautiful plain, extending as far as the eye\ncould reach, covered with flowers of a thousand different hues and\nfragrance. Here and there were clusters of tall, shady trees, separated\nby innumerable streams of the purest water, which wound around their\ncourses under the cooling shades, and filled the plain with countless\nbeautiful lakes, whose banks and bosom were covered with water-fowl,\nbasking and sporting in the sun. The trees were alive with birds of\ndifferent plumage, warbling their sweet notes, and delighted with\nperpetual spring.\n\nThe Fisher and his friend beheld very long lodges, and the celestial\ninhabitants amusing themselves at a distance. Words cannot express the\nbeauty and charms of the place. The lodges were empty of inhabitants,\nbut they saw them lined with mocuks[55] of different sizes, filled with\nbirds and fowls of different plumage. Ojeeg thought of his son, and\nimmediately commenced cutting open the mocuks and letting out the\nbirds, who descended in whole flocks through the opening which they had\nmade. The warm air of those regions also rushed down through the\nopening, and spread its genial influence over the north.\n\nWhen the celestial inhabitants saw the birds let loose, and the warm\ngales descending, they raised a shout like thunder, and ran for their\nlodges. But it was too late. Spring, summer, and autumn had gone; even\nperpetual summer had almost all gone; but they separated it with a\nblow, and only a part descended; but the ends were so mangled, that,\nwherever it prevails among the lower inhabitants, it is always\nsickly.[56]\n\nWhen the Wolverine heard the noise, he made for the opening and safely\ndescended. Not so the Fisher. Anxious to fulfil his son's wishes, he\ncontinued to break open the mocuks. He was, at last, obliged to run\nalso, but the opening was now closed by the inhabitants. He ran with\nall his might over the plains of heaven, and, it would appear, took a\nnortherly direction. He saw his pursuers so close that he had to climb\nthe first large tree he came to. They commenced shooting at him with\ntheir arrows, but without effect, for all his body was invulnerable\nexcept the space of about an inch near the tip of his tail. At last one\nof the arrows hit the spot, for he had in this chase assumed the shape\nof the Fisher after whom he was named.\n\nHe looked down from the tree, and saw some among his assailants with\nthe totems[57] of his ancestors. He claimed relationship, and told them\nto desist, which they only did at the approach of night. He then came\ndown to try and find an opening in the celestial plain, by which he\nmight descend to the earth. But he could find none. At last, becoming\nfaint from the loss of blood from the wound on his tail, he laid\nhimself down towards the north of the plain, and, stretching out his\nlimbs, said, \"I have fulfilled my promise to my son, though it has cost\nme my life; but I die satisfied in the idea that I have done so much\ngood, not only for him, but for my fellow-beings. Hereafter I will be a\nsign to the inhabitants below for ages to come, who will venerate my\nname for having succeeded in procuring the varying seasons. They will\nnow have from eight to ten moons without snow.\"\n\nHe was found dead next morning, but they left him as they found him,\nwith the arrow sticking in his tail, as it can be plainly seen, at this\ntime, in the heavens.\n\n      [54] There is a group of stars in the Northern hemisphere which\n      the Odjibwas call _Ojeeg Annung_, or the Fisher Stars. It is\n      believed to be identical with the group of the Plough. They\n      relate the following tale respecting it.\n\n      [55] Baskets, or cages.\n\n      [56] The idea here indicated is among the peculiar notions of\n      these tribes, and is grafted in the forms of their language,\n      which will be pointed out in the progress of these researches.\n\n      [57] Family arms, or armorial mark.\n\n\n\n\nCHILEELI,\n\nOR\n\nTHE RED LOVER.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nMany years ago there lived a warrior on the banks of Lake Superior,\nwhose name was Wawanosh. He was the chief of an ancient family of his\ntribe, who had preserved the line of chieftainship unbroken from a\nremote time, and he consequently cherished a pride of ancestry. To the\nreputation of birth he added the advantages of a tall and commanding\nperson, and the dazzling qualities of personal strength, courage, and\nactivity. His bow was noted for its size, and the feats he had\nperformed with it. His counsel was sought as much as his strength was\nfeared, so that he came to be equally regarded as a hunter, a warrior,\nand a counsellor. He had now passed the meridian of his days, and the\nterm Akkee-waizee, _i.e._, one who has been long on the earth, was\napplied to him.\n\nSuch was Wawanosh, to whom the united voice of the nation awarded the\nfirst place in their esteem, and the highest authority in council. But\ndistinction, it seems, is apt to engender haughtiness in the hunter\nstate as well as civilized life. Pride was his ruling passion, and he\nclung with tenacity to the distinctions which he regarded as an\ninheritance.\n\nWawanosh had an only daughter, who had now lived to witness the budding\nof the leaves of the eighteenth spring. Her father was not more\ncelebrated for his deeds of strength than she for her gentle virtues,\nher slender form, her full beaming hazel eyes, and her dark and flowing\nhair.\n\n                            \"And through her cheek\n    The blush would make its way, and all but speak.\n    The sunborn blood suffused her neck, and threw\n    O'er her clear brown skin a lucid hue,\n    Like coral reddening through the darken'd wave,\n    Which draws the diver to the crimson cave.\"\n\nHer hand was sought by a young man of humble parentage, who had no\nother merits to recommend him but such as might arise from a tall and\ncommanding person, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the tropical\nfires of youth and love. These were sufficient to attract the favorable\nnotice of the daughter, but were by no means satisfactory to the\nfather, who sought an alliance more suitable to the rank and the high\npretensions of his family.\n\n\"Listen to me, young man,\" he replied to the trembling hunter, who had\nsought the interview, \"and be attentive to my words. You ask me to\nbestow upon you my daughter, the chief solace of my age, and my\nchoicest gift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this\nboon, who were as young, as active, and as ardent as yourself. Some of\nthese persons have had better claims to become my son-in-law. Have you\nreflected upon the deeds which have raised me in authority, and made my\nname known to the enemies of my nation? Where is there a chief who is\nnot proud to be considered the friend of Wawanosh? Where, in all the\nland, is there a hunter who has excelled Wawanosh? Where is there a\nwarrior who can boast the taking of an equal number of scalps? Besides,\nhave you not heard that my fathers came from the East, bearing the\nmarks of chieftaincy?\n\n\"And what, young man, have _you_ to boast? Have _you_ ever met your\nenemies in the field of battle? Have _you_ ever brought home a trophy\nof victory? Have _you_ ever proved your fortitude by suffering\nprotracted pain, enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great\nfatigue? Is your _name_ known beyond the humble limits of your native\nvillage? Go, then, young man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none\nbut the brave that can ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of\nWawanosh. Think not my warrior blood shall mingle with the humble mark\nof the Awasees[58]--fit totem for fishermen!\"\n\nThe intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that\nshould render him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the\nattempt. He called together several of his young companions and equals\nin years, and imparted to them his design of conducting an expedition\nagainst the enemy, and requested their assistance. Several embraced the\nproposal immediately; others were soon brought to acquiesce; and,\nbefore ten suns set, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party\nof young warriors, all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves\nin battle. Each warrior was armed, according to the custom of the\nperiod, with a bow and a quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper.\nHe carried a sack or wallet, provided with a small quantity of parched\nand pounded corn, mixed with pemmican or maple sugar. He was furnished\nwith a Puggamaugun, or war-club of hard wood, fastened to a girdle of\ndeer skin, and a stone or copper knife. In addition to this, some\ncarried the ancient _shemagun_, or lance, a smooth pole about a fathom\nin length, with a javelin of flint, firmly tied on with deer's sinews.\nThus equipped, and each warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy,\nand ornamented with appropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot\nappointed for the war-dance.\n\nA level, grassy plain extended for nearly a mile from the lodge of\nWawanosh along the lake shore. Lodges of bark were promiscuously\ninterspersed over this green, and here and there a cluster of trees, or\na solitary tall pine. A belt of yellow sand skirted the lake shore in\nfront, and a tall, thick forest formed the background. In the centre of\nthis plain stood a high shattered pine, with a clear space about,\nrenowned as the scene of the war-dance time out of mind. Here the\nyouths assembled, with their tall and graceful leader, distinguished by\nthe feathers of the bald eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright\nfire of pine wood blazed upon the green. He led his men several times\naround this fire, with a measured and solemn chant.[59] Then suddenly\nhalting, the war-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately began. An\nold man, sitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum,\nwhile several of the elder warriors shook their rattles, and \"ever and\nanon\" made the woods re-echo with their yells. Each warrior chanted\nalternately the verse of a song, of which the words generally embraced\nsome prominent idea, often repeated.\n\n    The eagles scream on high,\n      They whet their forked beaks:\n    Raise--raise the battle cry,\n      'Tis fame our leader seeks.\n\nThus they continued the dance, till each had introduced his verse, with\nshort intermissions, for two successive days and nights. Sometimes the\nvillage seer, who led the ceremony, would embrace the occasion of a\npause to address them with words of encouragement, in a prophetic voice\nand air, suited to raise their voices.\n\n    In the dreamy hours of night\n    I beheld the bloody fight.\n    As reclined upon my bed,\n    Holy visions crowned my head;\n    High our guardian spirit bright\n    Stood above the dreadful fight;\n    Beaming eye and dazzling brand\n    Gleamed upon my chosen band,\n    While a black and awful shade\n    O'er the faithless foeman spread.\n    Soon they wavered, sunk, and fled,\n    Leaving wounded, dying, dead,\n    While my gallant warriors high\n    Waved their trophies in the sky.\n\nAt every recurrence of this kind, new energy was infused into the\ndance, and the warriors renewed their gesticulations, and stamped upon\nthe ground as if they were trampling their enemies under their feet.\n\nAt length the prophet uttered his final prediction of success; and the\nwarriors dropping off, one by one, from the fire, took their way to the\nplace appointed for the rendezvous, on the confines of the enemy's\ncountry. Their leader was not among the last to depart, but he did not\nleave the village without seeking an interview with the daughter of\nWawanosh. He disclosed to her his firm determination never to return,\nunless he could establish his name as a warrior. He told her of the\npangs he had felt at the bitter reproaches of her father, and declared\nthat his soul spurned the imputation of effeminacy and cowardice\nimplied by his language. He averred that he could never be happy until\nhe had proved to the whole tribe the strength of his heart, which is\nthe Indian term for courage. He said that his dreams had not been\npropitious, but he should not cease to invoke the power of the Great\nSpirit. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment, which\nshe returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they parted.\n\nThat parting proved final. All she ever heard from her lover after this\ninterview was brought by one of his successful warriors, who said that\nhe had distinguished himself by the most heroic bravery, but, at the\nclose of the fight, he had received an arrow in his breast. The enemy\nfled, leaving many of their warriors dead on the field. On examining\nthe wound, it was perceived to be beyond their power to cure. They\ncarried him towards home a day's journey, but he languished and expired\nin the arms of his friends. From the moment the report was received, no\nsmile was ever seen in the once happy lodge of Wawanosh. His daughter\npined away by day and by night. Tears, sighs, and lamentation, were\nheard continually. Nothing could restore her lost serenity of mind.\nPersuasives and reproofs were alternately employed, but employed in\nvain. She would seek a sequestered spot, where she would sit under a\nshady tree, and sing her mournful laments for hours together. Passages\nof these are yet repeated by tradition.\n\nIt was not long before a small bird of beautiful plumage flew upon the\ntree under which she usually sat. This mysterious visitor, which, from\nits sweet and artless notes, is called Chileeli, seemed to respond in\nsympathy to her plaintive voice. It was a strange bird, such as had not\nbefore been observed. It came every day and remained chanting its notes\ntill nightfall; and when it left its perch on the tree, it seemed, from\nthe delicate play of the colors of its plumage, as if it had taken its\nhues from the rainbow. Her fond imagination soon led her to suppose it\nwas the spirit of her lover, and her visits to the sequestered spot\nwere repeated more frequently. She passed much of her time in fasting\nand singing her plaintive songs. There she pined away, taking little\nnourishment, and constantly desiring to pass away to that land of\nexpected bliss and freedom from care, where it is believed that the\nspirits of men will be again reunited, and tread over fields of flowery\nenjoyment. And when death came to her, it was not as the bearer of\ngloom and regrets, but as the herald of happiness. After her decease,\nthe mysterious bird was never more seen, and it became a popular\nopinion that the mysterious visitor had flown away with her spirit.[60]\n\n      [58] Catfish.\n\n      [59] Notes of the Pibbigwun.\n\n      [60] Notes of the Pibbigwun.\n\n\n\n\nSHEEM,\n\nTHE FORSAKEN BOY OR WOLF BROTHER.\n\nAN ODJIBWA ALLEGORY OF FRATERNAL AFFECTION.\n\n\nA solitary lodge stood on the banks of a remote lake. It was near the\nhour of sunset. Silence reigned within and without. Not a sound was\nheard but the low breathing of the dying inmate and head of this poor\nfamily. His wife and three children surrounded his bed. Two of the\nlatter were almost grown up: the other was a mere child. All their\nsimple skill in medicine had been exhausted to no effect. They moved\nabout the lodge in whispers, and were waiting the departure of the\nspirit. As one of the last acts of kindness, the skin door of the lodge\nhad been thrown back to admit the fresh air. The poor man felt a\nmomentary return of strength, and, raising himself a little, addressed\nhis family.\n\n\"I leave you in a world of care, in which it has required all my\nstrength and skill to supply you food, and protect you from the storms\nand cold of a severe climate. For you, my partner in life, I have less\nsorrow in parting, because I am persuaded you will not remain long\nbehind me, and will therefore find the period of your sufferings\nshortened. But you, my children! my poor and forsaken children, who\nhave just commenced the career of life, who will protect you from its\nevils? Listen to my words! Unkindness, ingratitude, and every\nwickedness is in the scene before you. It is for this cause that, years\nago, I withdrew from my kindred and my tribe, to spend my days in this\nlonely spot. I have contented myself with the company of your mother\nand yourselves during seasons of very frequent scarcity and want, while\nyour kindred, feasting in a scene where food is plenty, have caused the\nforests to echo with the shouts of successful war. I gave up these\nthings for the enjoyment of peace. I wished to shield you from the bad\nexamples you would inevitably have followed. I have seen you, thus far,\ngrow up in innocence. If we have sometimes suffered bodily want, we\nhave escaped pain of mind.[61] We have been kept from scenes of rioting\nand bloodshed.\n\n\"My career is now at its close. I will shut my eyes in peace, if you,\nmy children, will promise me to cherish each other. Let not your mother\nsuffer during the few days that are left to her; and I charge you, on\nno account, to forsake your youngest brother. Of him I give you both my\ndying charge to take a tender care.\" He sank exhausted on his pallet.\nThe family waited a moment, as if expecting to hear something further;\nbut, when they came to his side, the spirit had taken its flight.\n\nThe mother and daughter gave vent to their feelings in lamentations.\nThe elder son witnessed the scene in silence. He soon exerted himself\nto supply, with the bow and net, his father's place. Time, however,\nwore away heavily. Five moons had filled and waned, and the sixth was\nnear its full, when the mother also died. In her last moments she\npressed the fulfilment of their promise to their father, which the\nchildren readily renewed, because they were yet free from selfish\nmotives.\n\nThe winter passed; and the spring, with its enlivening effects in a\nnorthern hemisphere, cheered the drooping spirits of the bereft little\nfamily. The girl, being the eldest, dictated to her brothers, and\nseemed to feel a tender and sisterly affection for the youngest, who\nwas rather sickly and delicate. The other boy soon showed symptoms of\nrestlessness and ambition, and addressed the sister as follows: \"My\nsister, are we always to live as if there were no other human beings in\nthe world? Must I deprive myself of the pleasure of associating with my\nown kind? I have determined this question for myself. I shall seek the\nvillages of men, and you cannot prevent me.\"\n\nThe sister replied: \"I do not say no, my brother, to what you desire.\nWe are not prohibited the society of our fellow-mortals; but we are\ntold to cherish each other, and to do nothing independent of each\nother. Neither pleasure nor pain ought, therefore, to separate us,\nespecially from our younger brother, who being but a child, and weakly\nwithal, is entitled to a double share of our affection. If we follow\nour separate gratifications, it will surely make us neglect him, whom\nwe are bound by vows, both to our father and mother, to support.\" The\nyoung man received this address in silence. He appeared daily to grow\nmore restive and moody, and one day, taking his bow and arrows, left\nthe lodge and never returned.\n\nAffection nerved the sister's arm. She was not so ignorant of the\nforest arts as to let her brother want. For a long time she\nadministered to his necessities, and supplied a mother's cares. At\nlength, however, she began to be weary of solitude and of her charge.\nNo one came to be a witness of her assiduity, or to let fall a single\nword in her native language. Years, which added to her strength and\ncapability of directing the affairs of the household, brought with them\nthe irrepressible desire of society, and made solitude irksome. At this\npoint, selfishness gained the ascendency of her heart; for, in\nmeditating a change in her mode of life, she lost sight of her younger\nbrother, and left him to be provided for by contingencies.\n\nOne day, after collecting all the provisions she had been able to save\nfor emergencies, after bringing a quantity of wood to the door, she\nsaid to her little brother: \"My brother, you must not stray from the\nlodge. I am going to seek our elder brother. I shall be back soon.\"\nThen, taking her bundle, she set off in search of habitations. She soon\nfound them, and was so much taken up with the pleasures and amusements\nof social life, that the thought of her brother was almost entirely\nobliterated. She accepted proposals of marriage; and, after that,\nthought still less of her hapless and abandoned relative.\n\nMeantime her elder brother had also married, and lived on the shores of\nthe same lake whose ample circuit contained the abandoned lodge of his\nfather and his forsaken brother. The latter was soon brought to the\npinching turn of his fate. As soon as he had eaten all the food left by\nhis sister, he was obliged to pick berries and dig up roots. These were\nfinally covered by the snow. Winter came on with all its rigors. He was\nobliged to quit the lodge in search of other food. Sometimes he passed\nthe night in the clefts of old trees or caverns, and ate the refuse\nmeals of the wolves. The latter, at last, became his only resource; and\nhe became so fearless of these animals that he would sit close by them\nwhile they devoured their prey. The wolves, on the other hand, became\nso familiar with his face and form, that they were undisturbed by his\napproach; and, appearing to sympathize with him in his outcast\ncondition, would always leave something for his repast. In this way he\nlived till spring. As soon as the lake was free from ice, he followed\nhis new-found friends themselves to the shore. It happened, the same\nday, that his elder brother was fishing in his canoe, a considerable\ndistance out in the lake, when he thought he heard the cries of a child\non the shore, and wondered how any could exist on so bleak and barren a\npart of the coast. He listened again attentively, and distinctly heard\nthe cry repeated. He made for shore as quick as possible, and, as he\napproached land, discovered and recognized his little brother, and\nheard him singing, in a plaintive voice--\n\n      Neesia--neesia,\n      Shyegwuh goosuh!\n      Ni my een gwun iewh!\n      Ni my een gwun iewh!\n                Heo hwooh.\n\n    My brother--my brother,\n    Ah! see, I am turning into a wolf.[62]\n\nAt the termination of his song, which was drawn out with a peculiar\ncadence, he howled like a wolf. The elder brother was still more\nastonished, when, getting nearer shore, he perceived his poor brother\npartly transformed into that animal. He immediately leaped on shore,\nand strove to catch him in his arms, soothingly saying, \"My brother, my\nbrother, come to me.\" But the boy eluded his grasp, crying as he fled,\n\"Neesia, neesia,\" &c., and howling in the intervals.\n\nThe elder brother, conscience stricken, and feeling his brotherly\naffection strongly return, with redoubled force exclaimed, in great\nanguish, \"My brother! my brother! my brother!\"\n\nBut, the nearer he approached, the more rapidly the transformation went\non; the boy alternately singing and howling, and calling out the name,\nfirst of his brother, and then of his sister, till the change was\ncompletely accomplished, when he exclaimed, \"I am a wolf!\" and bounded\nout of sight.\n\n      [61] Wesugaindum, meaning pain or bitterness of mind, is a single\n      expression in the original. It is a trinary compound.\n\n      [62] Notes of the Pibbigwun.\n\n\n\n\nMISHEMOKWA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE WAR WITH THE GIGANTIC BEAR WEARING THE PRECIOUS PRIZE OF THE\nNECKLACE OF WAMPUM,\n\nOR\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF THE SMALL BLACK BEAR.\n\nAN OTTOWA LEGEND.\n\n\nIn a remote part of the north lived a great magician called Iamo, and\nhis only sister, who had never seen a human being. Seldom, if ever, had\nthe man any cause to go from home; for, as his wants demanded food, he\nhad only to go a little distance from the lodge, and there, in some\nparticular spot, place his arrows, with their barbs in the ground.\nTelling his sister where they had been placed, every morning she would\ngo in search, and never fail of finding each struck through the heart of\na deer. She had then only to drag them into the lodge and prepare their\nfood. Thus she lived till she attained womanhood, when one day her\nbrother said to her, \"Sister, the time is near at hand when you will be\nill. Listen to my advice. If you do not, it will probably be the cause\nof my death. Take the implements with which we kindle our fires. Go some\ndistance from our lodge, and build a separate fire. When you are in want\nof food, I will tell you where to find it. You must cook for yourself,\nand I will for myself. When you are ill, do not attempt to come near the\nlodge, or bring any of the utensils you use. Be sure always to fasten to\nyour belt the implements you need, for you do not know when the time\nwill come. As for myself, I must do the best I can.\" His sister promised\nto obey him in all he had said.\n\nShortly after, her brother had cause to go from home. She was alone in\nher lodge, combing her hair. She had just untied the belt to which the\nimplements were fastened, when suddenly the event, to which her brother\nhad alluded, occurred. She ran out of the lodge, but in her haste\nforgot the belt. Afraid to return, she stood for some time thinking.\nFinally she decided to enter the lodge and get it. For, thought she, my\nbrother is not at home, and I will stay but a moment to catch hold of\nit. She went back. Running in suddenly, she caught hold of it, and was\ncoming out when her brother came in sight. He knew what was the matter.\n\"Oh,\" he said, \"did I not tell you to take care? But now you have\nkilled me.\" She was going on her way, but her brother said to her,\n\"What can you do there now? the accident has happened. Go in, and stay\nwhere you have always stayed. And what will become of you? You have\nkilled me.\"\n\nHe then laid aside his hunting dress and accoutrements, and soon after\nboth his feet began to inflame and turn black, so that he could not\nmove. Still he directed his sister where to place the arrows, that she\nmight always have food. The inflammation continued to increase, and had\nnow reached his first rib; and he said, \"Sister, my end is near. You\nmust do as I tell you. You see my medicine-sack, and my war-club tied\nto it. It contains all my medicines, and my war-plumes, and my paints\nof all colors. As soon as the inflammation reaches my breast, you will\ntake my war-club. It has a sharp point, and you will cut off my head.\nWhen it is free from my body, take it, place its neck in the sack,\nwhich you must open at one end. Then hang it up in its former place. Do\nnot forget my bow and arrows. One of the last you will take to procure\nfood. The remainder tie to my sack, and then hang it up, so that I can\nlook towards the door. Now and then I will speak to you, but not\noften.\" His sister again promised to obey.\n\nIn a little time his breast was affected. \"Now,\" said he, \"take the\nclub and strike off my head.\" She was afraid, but he told her to muster\ncourage. \"_Strike_,\" said he, and a smile was on his face. Mustering\nall her courage, she gave the blow and cut off the head. \"Now,\" said\nthe head, \"place me where I told you.\" And fearfully she obeyed it in\nall its commands. Retaining its animation, it looked around the lodge\nas usual, and it would command its sister to go to such places as it\nthought would procure for her the flesh of different animals she\nneeded. One day the head said, \"The time is not distant when I shall be\nfreed from this situation, but I shall have to undergo many sore evils.\nSo the Superior Manito decrees, and I must bear all patiently.\" In this\nsituation we must leave the head.\n\nIn a certain part of the country was a village inhabited by a numerous\nand warlike band of Indians. In this village was a family of ten young\nmen--brothers. It was in the spring of the year that the youngest of\nthese blackened his face and fasted. His dreams were propitious. Having\nended his fast, he sent secretly for his brothers at night, so that\nnone in the village could overhear or find out the direction they\nintended to go. Though their drum was heard, yet that was a common\noccurrence. Having ended the usual formalities, he told them how\nfavorable his dreams were, and that he had called them together to know\nif they would accompany him in a war excursion. They all answered they\nwould. The third brother from the eldest, noted for his oddities,\ncoming up with his war-club when his brother had ceased speaking,\njumped up, \"Yes,\" said he, \"_I_ will go, and this will be the way I\nwill treat those we are going to fight;\" and he struck the post in the\ncentre of the lodge, and gave a yell. The others spoke to him, saying,\n\"Slow, slow, Mudjikewis, when you are in other people's lodges.\" So he\nsat down. Then, in turn, they took the drum, and sang their songs, and\nclosed with a feast. The youngest told them not to whisper their\nintention even to their wives, but secretly to prepare for their\njourney. They all promised obedience, and Mudjikewis was the first to\nsay so.\n\nThe time for their departure drew near. Word was given to assemble on a\ncertain night, when they would depart immediately. Mudjikewis was loud\nin his demands for his moccasins. Several times his wife asked him the\nreason. \"Besides,\" said she, \"you have a good pair on.\" \"Quick, quick,\"\nhe said, \"since you must know, we are going on a war excursion. So be\nquick.\" He thus revealed the secret. That night they met and started.\nThe snow was on the ground, and they travelled all night, lest others\nshould follow them. When it was daylight, the leader took snow and made\na ball of it; then tossing it into the air, he said, \"It was in this\nway I saw snow fall in my dream, so that I could not be tracked.\" And\nhe told them to keep close to each other for fear of losing themselves,\nas the snow began to fall in very large flakes. Near as they walked, it\nwas with difficulty they could see each other. The snow continued\nfalling all that day and the following night. So it was impossible to\ntrack them.\n\nThey had now walked for several days, and Mudjikewis was always in the\nrear. One day, running suddenly forward, he gave the _Saw-saw-quan_,[63]\nand struck a tree with his war-club, which broke into pieces as if\nstruck with lightning. \"Brothers,\" said he, \"this will be the way I\nwill serve those whom we are going to fight.\" The leader answered,\n\"Slow, slow, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be thought of\nso lightly.\" Again he fell back and thought to himself, \"What, what:\nWho can this be he is leading us to?\" He felt fearful, and was silent.\nDay after day they travelled on, till they came to an extensive plain,\non the borders of which human bones were bleaching in the sun. The\nleader spoke. \"They are the bones of those who have gone before us.\nNone has ever yet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate.\" Again\nMudjikewis became restless, and, running forward, gave the accustomed\nyell. Advancing to a large rock which stood above the ground, he struck\nit, and it fell to pieces. \"See, brothers,\" said he, \"thus will I treat\nthose whom we are going to fight.\" \"Still, still,\" once more said the\nleader; \"he to whom I am leading you is not to be compared to that\nrock.\"\n\nMudjikewis fell back quite thoughtful, saying to himself, \"I wonder who\nthis can be that he is going to attack.\" And he was afraid. Still they\ncontinued to see the remains of former warriors, who had been to the\nplace where _they_ were now going, some of whom had retreated as far\nback as the place where they first saw the bones, beyond which no one\nhad ever escaped. At last they came to a piece of rising ground, from\nwhich they plainly distinguished, sleeping on a distant mountain, a\nmammoth bear.\n\nThe distance between them was great, but the size of the animal caused\nhim plainly to be seen. \"There,\" said the leader, \"it is he to whom I\nam leading you; here our troubles only will commence, for he is a\nMishemokwa[64] and a Manito. It is he who has that we prize so dearly\n(i.e., _wampum_), to obtain which, the warriors whose bones we saw\nsacrificed their lives. You must not be fearful. Be manly. We shall\nfind him asleep.\" They advanced boldly till they came near, when they\nstopped to view him more closely. He was asleep. Then the leader went\nforward and touched the belt around the animal's neck. \"This,\" he said,\n\"is what we must get. It contains the wampum.\" They then requested the\neldest to try and slip the belt over the bear's head, who appeared to\nbe fast asleep, as he was not in the least disturbed by the attempt to\nobtain it. All their efforts were in vain, till it came to the one next\nthe youngest. He tried, and the belt moved nearly over the monster's\nhead, but he could get it no further. Then the youngest one and leader\nmade his attempt, and succeeded. Placing it on the back of the oldest,\nhe said, \"Now we must run,\" and off they started. When one became\nfatigued with its weight, another would relieve him. Thus they ran till\nthey had passed the bones of all former warriors, and were some\ndistance beyond, when, looking back, they saw the monster slowly\nrising. He stood some time before he missed his wampum. Soon they heard\nhis tremendous howl, like distant thunder, slowly filling all the sky;\nand then they heard him speak and say, \"Who can it be that has dared to\nsteal my wampum? Earth is not so large but that I can find them.\" And\nhe descended from the hill in pursuit. As if convulsed, the earth shook\nwith every jump he made. Very soon he approached the party. They\nhowever kept the belt, exchanging it from one to another, and\nencouraging each other. But he gained on them fast. \"Brothers,\" said\nthe leader, \"has never any one of you, when fasting, dreamed of some\nfriendly spirit who would aid you as a guardian?\" A dead silence\nfollowed. \"Well,\" said he, \"fasting, I dreamed of being in danger of\ninstant death, when I saw a small lodge, with smoke curling from its\ntop. An old man lived in it, and I dreamed he helped me. And may it be\nverified soon,\" he said, running forward and giving the peculiar yell,\nand a howl as if the sounds came from the depths of his stomach, and\nwhich is called _Checau-dum_. Getting upon a piece of rising ground,\nbehold! a lodge, with smoke curling from its top, appeared. This gave\nthem all new strength, and they ran forward and entered it. The leader\nspoke to the old man who sat in the lodge saying, \"_Nemesho_,[65] help\nus. We claim your protection, for the great bear will kill us.\" \"Sit\ndown and eat, my grandchildren,\" said the old man. \"Who is a great\nManito?\" said he, \"there is none but me; but let me look,\" and he\nopened the door of the lodge, when lo! at a little distance he saw the\nenraged animal coming on, with slow but powerful leaps. He closed the\ndoor. \"Yes,\" said he, \"_he_ is indeed a great Manito. My grandchildren,\nyou will be the cause of my losing my life. You asked my protection,\nand I granted it; so now come what may, I will protect you. When the\nbear arrives at the door, you must run out of the other end of the\nlodge.\" Then putting his hand to the side of the lodge where he sat, he\nbrought out a bag, which he opened. Taking out two small black dogs, he\nplaced them before him. \"These are the ones I use when I fight,\" said\nhe; and he commenced patting, with both hands, the sides of one of\nthem, and they began to swell out, so that he soon filled the lodge by\nhis bulk. And he had great strong teeth. When he attained his full size\nhe growled, and from that moment, as from instinct, he jumped out at\nthe door and met the bear, who in another leap would have reached the\nlodge. A terrible combat ensued. The skies rang with the howls of the\nfierce monsters. The remaining dog soon took the field. The brothers,\nat the onset, took the advice of the old man, and escaped through the\nopposite side of the lodge. They had not proceeded far before they\nheard the dying cry of one of the dogs, and soon after of the other.\n\"Well,\" said the leader, \"the old man will share their fate; so run,\nrun, he will soon be after us.\" They started with fresh vigor, for they\nhad received food from the old man; but very soon the bear came in\nsight, and again was fast gaining upon them. Again the leader asked the\nbrothers if they could do nothing for their safety. All were silent.\nThe leader, running forward, did as before. \"I dreamed,\" he cried,\n\"that, being in great trouble, an old man helped me who was a Manito.\nWe shall soon see his lodge.\" Taking courage, they still went on. After\ngoing a short distance they saw the lodge of the old Manito. They\nentered immediately and claimed his protection, telling him a Manito\nwas after them. The old man, setting meat before them, said, \"Eat. Who\nis a Manito? there is no Manito but me. There is none whom I fear.\" And\nthe earth trembled as the monster advanced. The old man opened the door\nand saw him coming. He shut it slowly, and said, \"Yes, my\ngrandchildren, you have brought trouble upon me.\" Procuring his\nmedicine sack, he took out his small war-clubs of black stone, and told\nthe young men to run through the other side of the lodge. As he handled\nthe clubs they became very large, and the old man stepped out just as\nthe bear reached the door. Then striking him with one of the clubs, it\nbroke in pieces. The bear stumbled. Renewing the attempt with the other\nwar-club, that also was broken, but the bear fell senseless. Each blow\nthe old man gave him sounded like a clap of thunder, and the howls of\nthe bear ran along till they filled the heavens.\n\nThe young men had now ran some distance, when they looked back. They\ncould see that the bear was recovering from the blows. First he moved\nhis paws, and soon they saw him rise on his feet. The old man shared\nthe fate of the first, for they now heard his cries as he was torn in\npieces. Again the monster was in pursuit, and fast overtaking them. Not\nyet discouraged, the young men kept on their way; but the bear was now\nso close, that the leader once more applied to his brothers, but they\ncould do nothing. \"Well,\" said he, \"my dreams will soon be exhausted.\nAfter this I have but one more.\" He advanced, invoking his guardian\nspirit to aid him. \"Once,\" said he, \"I dreamed that, being sorely\npressed, I came to a large lake, on the shore of which was a canoe,\npartly out of water, having ten paddles all in readiness. Do not fear,\"\nhe cried, \"we shall soon get to it.\" And so it was, even as he had\nsaid. Coming to the lake, they saw the canoe with ten paddles, and\nimmediately they embarked. Scarcely had they reached the centre of the\nlake, when they saw the bear arrive at its borders. Lifting himself on\nhis hind legs, he looked all around. Then he waded into the water; then\nlosing his footing, he turned back, and commenced making the circuit of\nthe lake. Meanwhile, the party remained stationary in the centre to\nwatch his movements. He travelled around, till at last he came to the\nplace from whence he started. Then he commenced drinking up the water,\nand they saw the current fast setting in towards his open mouth. The\nleader encouraged them to paddle hard for the opposite shore. When only\na short distance from land, the current had increased so much, that\nthey were drawn back by it, and all their efforts to reach it were\nvain.\n\nThen the leader again spoke, telling them to meet their fates manfully.\n\"Now is the time, Mudjikewis,\" said he, \"to show your prowess. Take\ncourage, and sit in the bow of the canoe; and when it approaches his\nmouth, try what effect your club will have on his head.\" He obeyed, and\nstood ready to give the blow; while the leader, who steered, directed\nthe canoe for the open mouth of the monster.\n\nRapidly advancing, they were just about to enter his mouth, when\nMudjikewis struck him a tremendous blow on the head, and gave the\nsaw-saw-quan. The bear's limbs doubled under him, and he fell stunned\nby the blow. But before Mudjikewis could renew it the monster disgorged\nall the water he had drank, with a force which sent the canoe with\ngreat velocity to the opposite shore. Instantly leaving the canoe,\nagain they fled, and on they went till they were completely exhausted.\nThe earth again shook, and soon they saw the monster hard after them.\nTheir spirits drooped, and they felt discouraged. The leader exerted\nhimself, by actions and words, to cheer them up; and once more he asked\nthem if they thought of nothing, or could do nothing for their rescue;\nand, as before, all were silent. \"Then,\" he said, \"this is the last\ntime I can apply to my guardian spirit. Now if we do not succeed, our\nfates are decided.\" He ran forward, invoking his spirit with great\nearnestness, and gave the yell. \"We shall soon arrive,\" said he to his\nbrothers, \"to the place where my last guardian spirit dwells. In him I\nplace great confidence. Do not, do not be afraid, or your limbs will be\nfear-bound. We shall soon reach his lodge. Run, run,\" he cried.\n\nThey were now in sight of the lodge of Iamo, the magician of the\nundying head--of that great magician whose life had been the forfeit of\nthe kind of necromantic leprosy caused by the careless steps of the\nfatal curse of uncleanliness in his sister. This lodge was the sacred\nspot of expected relief to which they had been fleeing, from the\nfurious rage of the giant Bear, who had been robbed of her precious\nboon, the _magis-sauniqua_. For it had been the design of many previous\nwar parties to obtain this boon.\n\nIn the mean time, the undying head of Iamo had remained in the medicine\nsack, suspended on the sides of his wigwam, where his sister had placed\nit, with its mystic charms, and feathers, and arrows. This head\nretained all life and vitality, keeping its eyes open, and directing\nits sister, in order to procure food, where to place the magic arrows,\nand speaking at long intervals. One day the sister saw the eyes of the\nhead brighten, as if through pleasure. At last it spoke. \"Oh! sister,\"\nit said, \"in what a pitiful situation you have been the cause of\nplacing me. Soon, very soon, a party of young men will arrive and apply\nto me for aid; but, alas! how can I give what I _would_ have done with\nso much pleasure. Nevertheless, take two arrows, and place them where\nyou have been in the habit of placing the others, and have meat\nprepared and cooked before they arrive. When you hear them coming and\ncalling on my name, go out and say, 'Alas! it is long ago that an\naccident befell him; I was the cause of it.' If they still come near,\nask them in and set meat before them. And now you must follow my\ndirections strictly. When the bear is near, go out and meet him. You\nwill take my medicine sack, bows and arrows, and my head. You must then\nuntie the sack, and spread out before you my paints of all colors, my\nwar eagle feathers, my tufts of dried hair, and whatever else it\ncontains. As the bear approaches, you will take all these articles, one\nby one, and say to him, 'This is my deceased brother's paint,' and so\non with all the other articles, throwing each of them as far from you\nas you can. The virtues contained in them will cause him to totter;\nand, to complete his destruction, you will take my head, and that too\nyou will cast as far off as you can, crying aloud, 'See, this is my\ndeceased brother's head.' He will then fall senseless. By this time the\nyoung men will have eaten, and you will call them to your assistance.\nYou must then cut the carcass into pieces, yes, into _small_ pieces,\nand scatter them to the four winds; for, unless you do this, he will\nagain revive.\" She promised that all should be done as he said. She had\nonly time to prepare the meat, when the voice of the leader was heard\ncalling upon Iamo for aid. The woman went out and invited them in as\nher brother had directed. But the war party, being closely pursued,\ncame promptly up to the lodge. She invited them in, and placed the meat\nbefore them. While they were eating they heard the bear approaching.\nUntying the medicine sack and taking the head, she had all in readiness\nfor his approach. When he came up, she did as she had been told.\n\"Behold, Mishemokwa,\" she cried, \"this is the meda sack of Iamo. These\nare war eagle's feathers of Iamo (casting them aside). These are magic\narrows of Iamo (casting them down). These are the sacred paints and\nmagic charms of Iamo. These are dried tufts of the hair of furious\nbeasts. And this (swinging it with all her might) is his undying head.\"\nThe monster began to totter, as she cast one thing after the other on\nthe ground, but still recovering strength, came close up to the woman\ntill she flung the head. As it rolled along the ground, the blood,\nexcited by the feelings of the head in this terrible scene, gushed from\nthe nose and mouth. The bear, tottering, soon fell with a tremendous\nnoise. Then she cried for help, and the young men came rushing out,\nhaving partially regained their strength and spirits.\n\nMudjikewis, stepping up, gave a yell, and struck the monster a blow\nupon the head. This he repeated till it seemed like a mass of brains;\nwhile the others, as quick as possible, cut him into very small pieces,\nwhich they then scattered in every direction. While thus employed,\nhappening to look around where they had thrown the meat, wonderful to\nbehold! they saw, starting up and running off in every direction, small\nblack bears, such as are seen at the present day. The country was soon\noverspread with these black animals. And it was from this monster that\nthe present race of bears, the mukwahs, derived their origin.\n\nHaving thus overcome their pursuer, they returned to the lodge. In the\nmean time, the woman, gathering the implements she had scattered, and\nthe head, placed them again in the sack. But the head did not speak\nagain.\n\nThe war party were now triumphant, but they did not know what use to\nmake of their triumph. Having spent so much time, and traversed so vast\na country in their flight, the young men gave up the idea of ever\nreturning to their own country, and game being plenty, they determined\nto remain where they now were, and make this their home. One day they\nmoved off some distance from the lodge for the purpose of hunting,\nhaving left the wampum captured with the woman. They were very\nsuccessful, and amused themselves, as all young men do when alone, by\ntalking and jesting with each other. One of them spoke and said, \"We\nhave all this sport to ourselves; let us go and ask our sister if she\nwill not let us bring the head to this place, as it is still alive. It\nmay be pleased to hear us talk and be in our company. In the mean time,\nwe will take food to our sister.\" They went, and requested the head.\nShe told them to take it, and they took it to their hunting-grounds,\nand tried to amuse it, but only at times did they see its eyes beam\nwith pleasure. One day, while busy in their encampment, they were\nunexpectedly attacked by unknown Indians. The skirmish was long\ncontested and bloody. Many of their foes were slain, but still they\nwere thirty to one. The young men fought desperately till they were all\nkilled. The attacking party then retreated to a height of ground, to\nmuster their men, and to count the number of missing and slain. One of\ntheir young men had strayed away, and, in endeavoring to overtake them,\ncame to the place where the undying head was hung up. Seeing that alone\nretain animation, he eyed it for some time with fear and surprise.\nHowever, he took it down and opened the sack, and was much pleased to\nsee the beautiful feathers, one of which he placed on his head.\n\nStarting off, it waved gracefully over him till he reached his party,\nwhen he threw down the head and sack, and told them how he had found\nit, and that the sack was full of paints and feathers. They all looked\nat the head and made sport of it. Numbers of the young men took up the\npaint and painted themselves, and one of the party took the head by the\nhair and said, \"Look, you ugly thing, and see your paints on the faces\nof warriors.\" But the feathers were so beautiful, that numbers of them\nalso placed _them_ on their heads. Then again they used all kinds of\nindignity to the head, for which they were in turn repaid by the death\nof those who had used the feathers. Then the chief commanded them to\nthrow all away except the head. \"We will see,\" said he, \"when we get\nhome, what we can do to it. We will try to make it shut its eyes.\"\n\nWhen they reached their homes they took it to the council lodge, and\nhung it up before the fire, fastening it with raw hide soaked, which\nwould shrink and become tightened by the action of the fire. \"We will\nthen see,\" they said, \"if we cannot make it shut its eyes.\"\n\nMeanwhile, for several days, the sister of Iamo had been waiting for\nthe young men to bring back the head; till at last, getting impatient,\nshe went in search of it. The young men she found lying within short\ndistances of each other, dead, and covered with wounds. Various other\nbodies lay scattered in different directions around them. She searched\nfor the head and sack, but they were nowhere to be found. She raised\nher voice and wept, and blackened her face. Then she walked in\ndifferent directions, till she came to the place from whence the head\nhad been taken. There she found the magic bow and arrows, where the\nyoung men, ignorant of their qualities, had left them. She thought to\nherself that she would find her brother's head, and came to a piece of\nrising ground, and there saw some of his paints and feathers. These she\ncarefully put up, and hung upon the branch of a tree till her return.\n\nAt dusk she arrived at the first lodge of the enemy, in a very\nextensive village. Here she used a charm, common among Indians when\nthey wish to meet with a kind reception. On applying to the old man and\nwoman of the lodge, she was kindly received. She made known her errand.\nThe old man promised to aid her, and told her that the head was hung up\nbefore the council fire, and that the chiefs of the village, with their\nyoung men, kept watch over it continually. The former are considered as\nManitoes. She said she only wished to see it, and would be satisfied if\nshe could only get to the door of the lodge. She knew she had not\nsufficient power to take it by force. \"Come with me,\" said the Indian,\n\"I will take you there.\" They went, and they took their seats near the\ndoor. The council lodge was filled with warriors, amusing themselves\nwith games, and constantly keeping up a fire to smoke the head, as they\nsaid, to make dry meat. They saw the eyes move, and not knowing what to\nmake of it, one spoke and said, \"Ha! ha! it is beginning to feel the\neffects of the smoke.\" The sister looked up from the door, and as her\neyes met those of her brother, tears rolled down the cheeks of the\nundying head. \"Well,\" said the chief, \"I thought we would make you do\nsomething at last. Look! look at it--shedding tears,\" said he to those\naround him; and they all laughed and passed their jokes upon it. The\nchief, looking around and observing the woman, after some time said to\nthe old man who came with her, \"Who have you got there? I have never\nseen that woman before in our village.\" \"Yes,\" replied the man, \"you\nhave seen her; she is a relation of mine, and seldom goes out. She\nstays in my lodge, and asked me to allow her to come with me to this\nplace.\" In the centre of the lodge sat one of those vain young men who\nare always forward, and fond of boasting and displaying themselves\nbefore others. \"Why,\" said he, \"I have seen her often, and it is to his\nlodge I go almost every night to court her.\" All the others laughed and\ncontinued their games. The young man did not know he was telling a lie\nto the woman's advantage, who by that means escaped scrutiny.\n\nShe returned to the old man's lodge, and immediately set out for her\nown country. Coming to the spot where the bodies of her adopted\nbrothers lay, she placed them together, their feet toward _the east_.\nThen taking an axe which she had, she cast it up into the air, crying\nout, \"Brothers, get up from under it, or it will fall on you.\" This she\nrepeated three times, and the third time the brothers all arose and\nstood on their feet.\n\nMudjikewis commenced rubbing his eyes and stretching himself. \"Why,\"\nsaid he, \"I have overslept myself.\" \"No, indeed,\" said one of the\nothers, \"do you not know we were all killed, and that is our sister who\nhas brought us to life?\" The young men took the bodies of their enemies\nand _burned_ them. Soon after, the woman went to procure wives for\nthem, in a distant country, they knew not where; but she returned with\nten young females, which she gave to the young men, beginning with the\neldest. Mudjikewis stepped to and fro, uneasy lest he should not get\nthe one he liked. But he was not disappointed, for she fell to his lot.\nAnd they were well matched, for she was a female magician. They then\nall moved into a very large lodge, and their sister Iamoqua told them\nthat the women must now take turns in going to her brother's head every\nnight, trying to untie it. They all said they would do so with\npleasure. The eldest made the first attempt, and with a rushing noise\nshe fled through the air.\n\nTowards daylight she returned. She had been unsuccessful, as she\nsucceeded in untying only one of the knots. All took their turns\nregularly, and each one succeeded in untying only one knot each time.\nBut when the youngest went, she commenced the work as soon as she\nreached the lodge; although it had always been occupied, still the\nIndians never could see any one, for they all possessed invisibility.\nFor ten nights now, the smoke had not ascended, but filled the lodge\nand drove them out. This last night they were all driven out, and the\nyoung woman carried off the head.\n\nThe young people and the sister heard the young woman coming high\nthrough the air, and they heard her saying, \"Prepare the body of our\nbrother.\" And as soon as they heard it, they went to a small lodge\nwhere the black body of Iamo lay. His sister commenced cutting the neck\npart, from which the head had been severed. She cut so deep as to cause\nit to bleed; and the others who were present, by rubbing the body and\napplying medicines, expelled the blackness. In the mean time, the one\nwho brought it, by cutting the neck of the head, caused that also to\nbleed.\n\nAs soon as she arrived, they placed that close to the body, and by the\naid of medicines and various other means, succeeded in restoring Iamo\nto all his former beauty and manliness. All rejoiced in the happy\ntermination of their troubles, and they had spent some time joyfully\ntogether, when Iamo said, \"Now I will divide the wampum;\" and getting\nthe belt which contained it, he commenced with the eldest, giving it in\nequal proportions. But the youngest got the most splendid and\nbeautiful, as the bottom of the belt held the richest and rarest.\n\nThey were told that, since they had all once died, and were restored to\nlife, they were no longer mortals, but _spirits_, and they were\nassigned different stations in the invisible world. Only Mudjikewis's\nplace was, however, named. He was to direct the _west wind_, hence\ngenerally called Kabeyun, the father of Manabozho, there to remain\nforever. They were commanded, as they had it in their power, to do good\nto the inhabitants of the earth; and forgetting their sufferings in\nprocuring the wampum, to give all things with a liberal hand. And they\nwere also commanded that it should also be held by them _sacred_;\nthose grains or shells of the pale hue to be emblematic of peace, while\nthose of the darker hue would lead to evil and to war.\n\nThe spirits, then, amid songs and shouts, took their flight to their\nrespective abodes on high; while Iamo, with his sister Iamoqua,\ndescended into the depths below.\n\n      [63] War-cry.\n\n      [64] A gigantic she bear wearing the sacred necklace of wampum.\n\n      [65] My grandfather.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RED SWAN.\n\n\nThree brothers were left destitute, by the death of their parents, at\nan early age. The eldest was not yet able to provide fully for their\nsupport, but did all he could in hunting, and with his aid, and the\nstock of provisions left by their father, they were preserved and kept\nalive, rather, it seems, by miraculous interposition, than the adequacy\nof their own exertions. For the father had been a hermit,[66] having\nremoved far away from the body of the tribe, so that when he and his\nwife died they left their children without neighbors and friends, and\nthe lads had no idea that there was a human being near them. They did\nnot even know who their parents had been, for the eldest was too young,\nat the time of their death, to remember it. Forlorn as they were, they\ndid not, however, give up to despondency, but made use of every\nexertion they could, and in process of time, learned the art of hunting\nand killing animals. The eldest soon became an expert hunter, and was\nvery successful in procuring food. He was noted for his skill in\nkilling buffalo, elk, and moose, and he instructed his brothers in the\narts of the forest as soon as they became old enough to follow him.\nAfter they had become able to hunt and take care of themselves, the\nelder proposed to leave them, and go in search of habitations,\npromising to return as soon as he could procure them wives. In this\nproject he was overruled by his brothers, who said they could not part\nwith him. Maujeekewis, the second eldest, was loud in his disapproval,\nsaying, \"What will you do with _those you propose to get_--we have\nlived so long without them, and we can still do without them.\" His\nwords prevailed, and the three brothers continued together for a time.\n\nOne day they agreed to kill each, a male of those kind of animals each\nwas most expert in hunting, for the purpose of making quivers from\ntheir skins. They did so, and immediately commenced making arrows to\nfill their quivers, that they might be prepared for any emergency. Soon\nafter, they hunted on a wager, to see who should come in first with\ngame, and prepare it so as to regale the others. They were to shoot no\nother animal, but such as each was in the habit of killing. They set\nout different ways; Odjibwa, the youngest, had not gone far before he\nsaw a bear, an animal he was not to kill, by the agreement. He followed\nhim close, and drove an arrow through him, which brought him to the\nground. Although contrary to the bet, he immediately commenced skinning\nhim, when suddenly something red tinged all the air around him. He\nrubbed his eyes, thinking he was perhaps deceived, but without effect,\nfor the red hue continued. At length he heard a strange noise at a\ndistance. It first appeared like a human voice, but after following the\nsound for some distance, he reached the shores of a lake, and soon saw\nthe object he was looking for. At a distance out in the lake, sat a\nmost beautiful Red Swan, whose plumage glittered in the sun, and who\nwould now and then make the same noise he had heard. He was within long\nbow shot, and pulling the arrow from the bow-string up to his ear, took\ndeliberate aim and shot. The arrow took no effect; and he shot and shot\nagain till his quiver was empty. Still the swan remained, moving around\nand around, stretching its long neck and dipping its bill into the\nwater, as if heedless of the arrows shot at it. Odjibwa ran home, and\ngot all his own and his brothers' arrows, and shot them all away. He\nthen stood and gazed at the beautiful bird. While standing, he\nremembered his brothers' saying that in their deceased father's\nmedicine sack were three magic arrows. Off he started, his anxiety to\nkill the swan overcoming all scruples. At any other time, he would have\ndeemed it sacrilege to open his father's medicine sack, but now he\nhastily seized the three arrows and ran back, leaving the other\ncontents of the sack scattered over the lodge. The swan was still\nthere. He shot the first arrow with great precision, and came very near\nto it. The second came still closer; as he took the last arrow, he felt\nhis arm firmer, and drawing it up with vigor, saw it pass through the\nneck of the swan a little above the breast. Still it did not prevent\nthe bird from flying off, which it did, however, at first slowly,\nflapping its wings and rising gradually into the air, and then flying\noff toward the sinking of the sun.[67] Odjibwa was disappointed; he knew\nthat his brothers would be displeased with him; he rushed into the\nwater and rescued the two magic arrows, the third was carried off by\nthe swan; but he thought that it could not fly very far with it, and\nlet the consequences be what they might, he was bent on following it.\n\nOff he started on the run; he was noted for speed, for he would shoot\nan arrow, and then run so fast that the arrow always fell behind him. I\ncan run fast, he thought, and I can get up with the swan some time or\nother. He thus ran over hills and prairies, toward the west, till near\nnight, and was only going to take one more run, and then seek a place\nto sleep for the night, when suddenly he heard noises at a distance,\nwhich he knew were from people; for some were cutting trees, and the\nstrokes of their axes echoed through the woods. When he emerged from\nthe forest, the sun was just falling below the horizon, and he felt\npleased to find a place to sleep in, and get something to eat, as he\nhad left home without a mouthful. All these circumstances could not\ndamp his ardor for the accomplishment of his object, and he felt that\nif he only persevered, he would succeed. At a distance, on a rising\npiece of ground, he could see an extensive town. He went toward it, but\nsoon heard the watchman, Mudjee-Kokokoho, who was placed on some height\nto overlook the place, and give notice of the approach of friends or\nfoes--crying out, \"We are visited;\" and a loud holla indicated that they\nall heard it. The young man advanced, and was pointed by the watchman to\nthe lodge of the chief, \"It is there you must go in,\" he said, and left\nhim. \"Come in, come in,\" said the chief, \"take a seat there,\" pointing\nto the side where his daughter sat. \"It is there you must sit.\" Soon\nthey gave him something to eat, and very few questions were asked him,\nbeing a stranger. It was only when he spoke, that the others answered\nhim. \"Daughter,\" said the chief, after dark, \"take our son-in-law's\nmoccasins, and see if they be torn; if so, mend them for him, and bring\nin his bundle.\" The young man thought it strange that he should be so\nwarmly received, and married instantly, without his wishing it, although\nthe young girl was pretty. It was some time before she would take his\nmoccasins, which he had taken off. It displeased him to see her so\nreluctant to do so, and when she did reach them, he snatched them out of\nher hand and hung them up himself. He laid down and thought of the swan,\nand made up his mind to be off by dawn. He awoke early, and spoke to the\nyoung woman, but she gave no answer. He slightly touched her. \"What do\nyou want?\" she said, and turned her back toward him. \"Tell me,\" he said,\n\"what time the swan passed. I am following it, and come out and point\nthe direction.\" \"Do you think you can catch up to it?\" she said. \"Yes,\"\nhe answered. \"Naubesah\" (foolishness), she said. She, however, went out\nand pointed in the direction he should go. The young man went slowly\ntill the sun arose, when he commenced travelling at his accustomed\nspeed. He passed the day in running, and when night came, he was\nunexpectedly pleased to find himself near another town; and when at a\ndistance, he heard the watchman crying out, \"We are visited;\" and soon\nthe men of the village stood out to see the stranger. He was again told\nto enter the lodge of the chief, and his reception was, in every\nrespect, the same as he met the previous night; only that the young\nwoman was more beautiful, and received him very kindly, but although\nurged to stay, his mind was fixed on the object of his journey. Before\ndaylight he asked the young woman what time the Red Swan passed, and to\npoint out the way. She did so, and said it passed yesterday when the sun\nwas between midday and _pungishemoo_--its falling place. He again\nset out rather slowly, but when the sun had arisen he tried his speed by\nshooting an arrow ahead, and running after it; but it fell behind him.\nNothing remarkable happened in the course of the day, and he went on\nleisurely. Toward night, he came to the lodge of an old man. Some time\nafter dark he saw a light emitted from a small low lodge. He went up to\nit very slyly, and peeping through the door, saw an old man alone,\nwarming his back before the fire, with his head down on his breast. He\nthought the old man did not know that he was standing near the door, but\nin this he was disappointed; for so soon as he looked in, \"Walk in,\nNosis,\"[68] he said, \"take a seat opposite to me, and take off your\nthings and dry them, for you must be fatigued; and I will prepare you\nsomething to eat.\" Odjibwa did as he was requested. The old man, whom he\nperceived to be a magician, then said: \"My kettle with water stands near\nthe fire;\" and immediately a small earthen or a kind of metallic pot\nwith legs appeared by the fire. He then took one grain of corn, also one\nwhortleberry, and put them in the pot. As the young man was very hungry,\nhe thought that his chance for a supper was but small. Not a word or a\nlook, however, revealed his feelings. The pot soon boiled, when the old\nman spoke, commanding it to stand some distance from the fire; \"Nosis,\"\nsaid he, \"feed yourself,\" and he handed him a dish and ladle made out of\nthe same metal as the pot. The young man helped himself to all that was\nin the pot; he felt ashamed to think of his having done so, but before\nhe could speak, the old man said, \"Nosis, eat, eat;\" and soon after he\nagain said, \"Help yourself from the pot.\" Odjibwa was surprised on\nlooking into it to see it full; he kept on taking _all out_, and as\nsoon as it was done, it was again filled, till he had amply satisfied\nhis hunger. The magician then spoke, and the pot occupied its accustomed\nplace in one part of the lodge. The young man then leisurely reclined\nback, and listened to the predictions of his entertainer, who told him\nto keep on, and he would obtain his object. \"To tell you more,\" said he,\n\"I am not permitted; but go on as you have commenced, and you will not\nbe disappointed; to-morrow you will again reach one of my fellow old\nmen; but the one you will see after him will tell you all, and the\nmanner in which you will proceed to accomplish your journey. Often has\nthis Red Swan passed, and those who have followed it have never\nreturned: but you must be firm in your resolution, and be prepared for\nall events.\" \"So will it be,\" answered Odjibwa, and they both laid down\nto sleep. Early in the morning, the old man had his magic kettle\nprepared, so that his guest should eat before leaving. When leaving, the\nold man gave him his parting advice.\n\nOdjibwa set out in better spirits than he had done since leaving home.\nNight again found him in company with an old man, who received him\nkindly, and directed him on his way in the morning. He travelled with a\nlight heart, expecting to meet the one who was to give him directions\nhow to proceed to get the Red Swan. Toward nightfall, he reached the\nthird old man's lodge. Before coming to the door, he heard him saying,\n\"Nosis, come in,\" and going in immediately, he felt quite at home. The\nold man prepared him something to eat, acting as the other magicians\nhad done, and his kettle was of the same dimensions and material. The\nold man waited till he had done eating, when he commenced addressing\nhim. \"Young man, the errand you are on is very difficult. Numbers of\nyoung men have passed with the same purpose, but never returned. Be\ncareful, and if your guardian spirits are powerful, you may succeed.\nThis Red Swan you are following, is the daughter of a magician, who has\nplenty of everything, but he values his daughter but little less than\nwampum. He wore a cap of wampum, which was attached to his scalp; but\npowerful Indians--warriors of a distant chief, came and told him, that\ntheir chief's daughter was on the brink of the grave, and she herself\nrequested his scalp of wampum to effect a cure. 'If I can only see it,\nI will recover,' she said, and it was for this reason they came, and\nafter long urging the magician, he at last consented to part with it,\nonly from the idea of restoring the young woman to health; although\nwhen he took it off, it left his head bare and bloody. Several years\nhave passed since, and it has not healed. The warriors' coming for it,\nwas only a cheat, and they now are constantly making sport of it,\ndancing it about from village to village; and on every insult it\nreceives, the old man groans from pain. Those Indians are too powerful\nfor the magician, and numbers have sacrificed themselves to recover it\nfor him, but without success. The Red Swan has enticed many a young\nman, as she has done you, in order to get them to procure it, and\nwhoever is the fortunate one that succeeds, will receive the Red Swan\nas his reward. In the morning you will proceed on your way, and toward\nevening you will come to the magician's lodge, but before you enter you\nwill hear his groans; he will immediately ask you in, and you will see\nno one but himself; he will make inquiries of you, as regards your\ndreams, and the powers of your guardian spirits; he will then ask you\nto attempt the recovery of his scalp; he will show you the direction,\nand if you feel inclined, as I dare say you do, go forward, my son,\nwith a strong heart, persevere, and I have a presentiment you will\nsucceed.\" The young man answered, \"I will try.\" Early next morning,\nafter having eaten from the magic kettle, he started off on his\njourney. Toward evening he came to the lodge as he was told, and soon\nheard the groans of the magician. \"Come in,\" he said, even before the\nyoung man reached the door. On entering he saw his head all bloody, and\nhe was groaning most terribly. \"Sit down, sit down,\" he said, \"while I\nprepare you something to eat,\" at the same time doing as the other\nmagicians had done, in preparing food--\"You see,\" he said, \"how poor I\nam; I have to attend to all my wants.\" He said this to conceal the fact\nthat the Red Swan was there, but Odjibwa perceived that the lodge was\npartitioned, and he heard a rustling noise, now and then, in that\nquarter, which satisfied him that it was occupied. After having taken\nhis leggings and moccasins off, and eaten, the old magician commenced\ntelling him how he had lost his scalp--the insults it was\nreceiving--the pain he was suffering in consequence--his wishes to\nregain it--the unsuccessful attempts that had already been made, and\nthe numbers and power of those who detained it; stated the best and\nmost probable way of getting it; touching the young man on his pride\nand ambition, by the proposed adventure, and last, he spoke of such\nthings as would make an Indian rich. He would interrupt his discourse\nby now and then groaning, and saying, \"Oh, how shamefully they are\ntreating it.\" Odjibwa listened with solemn attention. The old man then\nasked him about his dreams--his dreams (or _as he saw when asleep_[69])\nat the particular time he had fasted and blackened his face to procure\nguardian spirits.\n\nThe young man then told him one dream; the magician groaned; \"No, that\nis not it,\" he said. The young man told him another. He groaned again;\n\"That is not it,\" he said. The young man told him of two or three\nothers. The magician groaned at each recital, and said, rather\npeevishly, \"No, those are not them.\" The young man then thought to\nhimself, Who are you? you may groan as much as you please; I am\ninclined not to tell you any more dreams. The magician then spoke in\nrather a supplicating tone. \"Have you no more dreams of another kind?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the young man, and told him one. \"That is it, that is it,\"\nhe cried; \"you will cause me to live. That was what I was wishing you\nto say;\" and he rejoiced greatly. \"Will you then go and see if you\ncannot procure my scalp?\" \"Yes,\" said the young man, \"I will go; and\nthe day after to-morrow,[70] when you hear the cries of the Kakak,[71]\nyou will know, by this sign, that I am successful, and you must prepare\nyour head, and lean it out through the door, so that the moment I\narrive, I may place your scalp on.\" \"Yes, yes,\" said the magician; \"as\nyou say, it will be done.\" Early next morning, he set out on his\nperilous adventure, and about the time that the sun hangs toward home,\n(afternoon) he heard the shouts of a great many people. He was in a\nwood at the time, and saw, as he thought, only a few men; but the\nfurther he went, the more numerous they appeared. On emerging into a\nplain, their heads appeared like the hanging leaves for number. In the\ncentre he perceived a post, and something waving on it, which was the\nscalp. Now and then the air was rent with the _Sau-sau-quan_, for they\nwere dancing the war dance around it. Before he could be perceived, he\nturned himself into a No-noskau-see (hummingbird), and flew toward the\nscalp.\n\nAs he passed some of those who were standing by, he flew close to their\nears, making the humming noise which this bird does when it flies. They\njumped on one side, and asked each other what it could be. By this time\nhe had nearly reached the scalp, but fearing he should be perceived\nwhile untying it, he changed himself into a Me-sau-be-wau-aun (the down\nof anything that floats lightly on the air), and then floated slowly\nand lightly on to the scalp. He untied it, and moved off slowly, as the\nweight was almost too great. It was as much as he could do to keep it\nup, and prevent the Indians from snatching it away. The moment they saw\nit was moving, they filled the air with their cries of \"It is taken\nfrom us; it is taken from us.\" He continued moving a few feet above\nthem; the rush and hum of the people was like the dead beating surges\nafter a storm. He soon gained on them, and they gave up the pursuit.\nAfter going a little further he changed himself into a Kakak, and flew\noff with his prize, making that peculiar noise which this bird makes.\n\nIn the mean time, the magician had followed his instructions, placing\nhis head outside of the lodge, as soon as he heard the cry of the\nKakak, and soon after he heard the rustling of its wings. In a moment\nOdjibwa stood before him. He immediately gave the magician a severe\nblow on the head with the wampum scalp: his limbs extended and quivered\nin agony from the effects of the blow: the scalp adhered, and the young\nman walked in and sat down, feeling perfectly at home. The magician was\nso long in recovering from the stunning blow, that the young man feared\nhe had killed him. He was however pleased to see him show signs of\nlife; he first commenced moving, and soon sat up. But how surprised was\nOdjibwa to see, not an aged man, far in years and decrepitude, but one\nof the handsomest young men he ever saw stand up before him.\n\n\"Thank you, my _friend_,\" he said; \"you see that your kindness and\nbravery have restored me to my former shape. It was so ordained, and\nyou have now accomplished the victory.\" The young magician urged the\nstay of his deliverer for a few days; and they soon formed a warm\nattachment for each other. The magician never alluded to the Red Swan\nin their conversations.\n\nAt last, the day arrived when Odjibwa made preparations to return. The\nyoung magician amply repaid him for his kindness and bravery, by\nvarious kinds of wampum, robes, and all such things as he had need of\nto make him an influential man. But though the young man's curiosity\nwas at its height about the Red Swan, he controlled his feelings, and\nnever so much as even hinted of her; feeling that he would surrender a\npoint of propriety in so doing; while the one he had rendered such\nservice to, whose hospitality he was now enjoying, and who had richly\nrewarded him, had never so much as even mentioned anything about her,\nbut studiously concealed her.\n\nOdjibwa's pack for travelling was ready, and he was taking his farewell\nsmoke, when the young magician thus addressed him: \"Friend, you know\nfor what cause you came thus far. You have accomplished your object,\nand conferred a lasting obligation on me. Your perseverance shall not\ngo unrewarded; and if you undertake other things with the same spirit\nyou have this, you will never fail to accomplish them. My duty renders\nit necessary for me to remain where I am, although I should feel happy\nto go with you. I have given you all you will need as long as you live;\nbut I see you feel backward to speak about the Red Swan. I vowed that\nwhoever procured me my scalp, should be rewarded by possessing the Red\nSwan.\" He then spoke, and knocked on the partition. The door\nimmediately opened, and the Red Swan met his eager gaze. She was a most\nbeautiful female, and as she stood majestically before him, it would be\nimpossible to describe her charms, for she looked as if she did not\nbelong to earth. \"Take her,\" the young magician said; \"she is my\nsister, treat her well; she is worthy of you, and what you have done\nfor me merits more. She is ready to go with you to your kindred and\nfriends, and has been so ever since your arrival, and my good wishes go\nwith you both.\" She then looked very kindly on her husband, who now bid\nfarewell to his friend indeed, and accompanied by the object of his\nwishes, he commenced retracing his footsteps.\n\nThey travelled slowly, and after two or three days reached the lodge of\nthe third old man, who had fed him from his small magic pot. He was\nvery kind, and said, \"You see what your perseverance has procured you;\ndo so always and you will succeed in all things you undertake.\"\n\nOn the following morning when they were going to start, he pulled from\nthe side of the lodge a bag, which he presented to the young man,\nsaying, \"Nosis, I give you this; it contains a present for you; and I\nhope you will live happily till old age.\" They then bid farewell to him\nand proceeded on.\n\nThey soon reached the second old man's lodge. Their reception there was\nthe same as at the first; he also gave them a present, with the old\nman's wishes that they would be happy. They went on and reached the\nfirst town, which the young man had passed in his pursuit. The watchman\ngave notice, and he was shown into the chief's lodge. \"Sit down there,\nson-in-law,\" said the chief, pointing to a place near his daughter.\n\"And you also,\" he said to the Red Swan.\n\nThe young woman of the lodge was busy in making something, but she\ntried to show her indifference about what was taking place, for she did\nnot even raise her head to see who was come. Soon the chief said, \"Let\nsome one bring in the bundle of our son-in-law.\" When it was brought\nin, the young man opened one of the bags, which he had received from\none of the old men; it contained wampum, robes, and various other\narticles; he presented them to his father-in-law, and all expressed\ntheir surprise at the value and richness of the gift. The chief's\ndaughter then only stole a glance at the present, then at Odjibwa and\nhis beautiful wife; she stopped working, and remained silent and\nthoughtful all the evening. They conversed about his adventures; after\nthis the chief told him that he should take his daughter along with him\nin the morning; the young man said \"Yes.\" The chief then spoke out,\nsaying, \"Daughter, be ready to go with him in the morning.\"\n\nThere was a Maujeekewis in the lodge, who thought to have got the young\nwoman to wife; he jumped up, saying, \"Who is he (meaning the young\nman), that he should take her for a few presents. I will kill him,\" and\nhe raised a knife which he had in his hand. But he only waited till\nsome one held him back, and then sat down, for he was too great a\ncoward to do as he had threatened. Early they took their departure,\namid the greetings of their new friends, and toward evening reached the\nother town. The watchman gave the signal, and numbers of men, women,\nand children stood out to see them. They were again shown into the\nchief's lodge, who welcomed them by saying, \"Son-in-law, you are\nwelcome,\" and requested him to take a seat by his daughter; and the two\nwomen did the same.\n\nAfter the usual formalities of smoking and eating, the chief requested\nthe young man to relate his travels in the hearing of all the inmates\nof the lodge, and those who came to see. They looked with admiration\nand astonishment at the Red Swan, for she was so beautiful. Odjibwa\ngave them his whole history. The chief then told him that his brothers\nhad been to their town in search of him, but had returned, and given up\nall hopes of ever seeing him again. He concluded by saying that since\nhe had been so fortunate and so manly, he should take his daughter with\nhim; \"for although your brothers,\" said he, \"were here, they were too\ntimid to enter any of our lodges, and merely inquired for you and\nreturned. You will take my daughter, treat her well, and that will bind\nus more closely together.\"\n\nIt is always the case in towns, that some one in it is foolish or\nclownish. It happened to be so here; for a Maujeekewis was in the\nlodge; and after the young man had given his father-in-law presents, as\nhe did to the first, this Maujeekewis jumped up in a passion, saying,\n\"Who is this stranger, that he should have her? I want her myself.\" The\nchief told him to be quiet, and not to disturb or quarrel with one who\nwas enjoying their hospitality. \"No, no,\" he boisterously cried, and\nmade an attempt to strike the stranger. Odjibwa was above fearing his\nthreats, and paid no attention to him. He cried the louder, \"I will\nhave her; I will have her.\" In an instant he was laid flat on the\nground from a blow of a war club given by the chief. After he came to\nhimself, the chief upbraided him for his foolishness, and told him to\ngo out and tell stories to the old women.\n\nTheir arrangements were then made, and the stranger invited a number of\nfamilies to go and visit their hunting grounds, as there was plenty of\ngame. They consented, and in the morning a large party were assembled\nto accompany the young man; and the chief with a large party of\nwarriors escorted them a long distance. When ready to return the chief\nmade a speech, and invoked the blessing of the great good Spirit on his\nson-in-law and party.\n\nAfter a number of days' travel, Odjibwa and his party came in sight of\nhis home. The party rested while he went alone in advance to see his\nbrothers. When he entered the lodge he found it all dirty and covered\nwith ashes: on one side was his eldest brother, with his face\nblackened, and sitting amid ashes, crying aloud. On the other side was\nMaujeekewis, his other brother; his face was also blackened, but his\nhead was covered with feathers and swan's down; he looked so odd, that\nthe young man could not keep from laughing, for he appeared and\npretended to be so absorbed with grief that he did not notice his\nbrother's arrival. The eldest jumped up and shook hands with him, and\nkissed him, and felt very happy to see him again.\n\nOdjibwa, after seeing all things put to rights, told them that he had\nbrought each of them a wife. When Maujeekewis heard about the wife, he\njumped up and said, \"Why is it just now that you have come?\" and made\nfor the door and peeped out to see the woman. He then commenced jumping\nand laughing, saying, \"Women! women!\" That was the only reception he\ngave his brother. Odjibwa then told them to wash themselves and\nprepare, for he would go and fetch them in. Maujeekewis jumped and\nwashed himself, but would every now and then go and peep out to see the\nwomen. When they came near, he said, \"I will have this one, and that\none;\" he did not exactly know which--he would go and sit down for an\ninstant, and then go and peep and laugh; he acted like a madman.\n\nAs soon as order was restored, and all seated, Odjibwa presented one of\nthe women to his eldest brother, saying, \"These women were given to me;\nI now give one to each; I intended so from the first.\" Maujeekewis\nspoke, and said, \"I think three wives would have been _enough_ for\nyou.\" The young man led one to Maujeekewis, saying, \"My brother, here\nis one for you, and live happily.\" Maujeekewis hung down his head as if\nhe was ashamed, but would every now and then steal a glance at his\nwife, and also at the other women. By and by he turned toward his wife,\nand acted as if he had been married for years. \"Wife,\" he said, \"I will\ngo and hunt,\" and off he started.\n\nAll lived peaceably for some time, and their town prospered, the\ninhabitants increased, and everything was abundant among them. One day\ndissatisfaction was manifested in the conduct of the two elder\nbrothers, on account of Odjibwa's having taken their deceased father's\nmagic arrows: they upbraided and urged him to procure others if he\ncould. Their object was to get him away, so that one of them might\nafterward get his wife. One day, after listening to them, he told them\nhe would go. Maujeekewis and himself went together into a sweating\nlodge to purify themselves. Even there, although it was held sacred,\nMaujeekewis upbraided him for the arrows. He told him again he would\ngo; and next day, true to his word, he left them. After travelling a\nlong way he came to an opening in the earth, and descending, it led him\nto the abode of departed spirits. The country appeared beautiful, the\nextent of it was lost in the distance: he saw animals of various kinds\nin abundance. The first he came near to were buffalo; his surprise was\ngreat when these animals addressed him as human beings. They asked him\nwhat he came for, how he descended, why he was so bold as to visit the\nabode of the dead. He told them he was in search of magic arrows to\nappease his brothers. \"Very well,\" said the leader of the buffaloes,\nwhose whole form was nothing but bone. \"Yes, we know it,\" and he and\nhis followers moved off a little space as if they were afraid of him.\n\"You have come,\" resumed the Buffalo Spirit, \"to a place where a living\nman has never before been. You will return immediately to your tribe,\nfor your brothers are trying to dishonor your wife; and you will live\nto a very old age, and live and die happily; you can go no further in\nthese abodes of ours.\" Odjibwa looked, as he thought to the west, and\nsaw a bright light, as if the sun was shining in its splendor, but he\nsaw no sun. \"What light is that I see yonder?\" he asked. The all-boned\nbuffalo answered, \"It is the place where those who were good dwell.\"\n\"And that dark cloud?\" Odjibwa again asked. \"Mud-jee-izzhi-wabezewin,\"\n(wickedness) answered the buffalo. He asked no more questions, and,\nwith the aid of his guardian spirits, again stood on this earth and saw\nthe sun giving light as usual, and breathed the pure air. All else he\nsaw in the abodes of the dead, and his travels and actions previous to\nhis return, are unknown. After wandering a long time in quest of\ninformation to make his people happy, he one evening drew near to his\nvillage or town; passing all the other lodges and coming to his own, he\nheard his brothers at high words with each other; they were quarrelling\nfor the possession of his wife. She had, however, remained constant,\nand mourned the absence and probable loss of her husband; but she had\nmourned him with the dignity of virtue. The noble youth listened till\nhe was satisfied of the base principles of his brothers. He then\nentered the lodge, with the stern air and conscious dignity of a brave\nand honest man. He spoke not a word, but placing the magic arrows to\nhis bow, drew them to their length and laid the brothers dead at his\nfeet. Thus ended the contest between the hermit's sons, and a firm and\nhappy union was consummated between Odjibwa, or him of the primitive or\nintonated voice, and the Red Swan.\n\n      [66] Pai-gwud-aw-diz-zid.\n\n      [67] Pungish-e-moo, falling or sinking to a position of repose.\n\n      [68] My grandchild.\n\n      [69] Enaw-baundum.\n\n      [70] The Indian expression is, Awuss-Waubung--the day _beyond_\n      to-morrow.\n\n      [71] A species of hawk.\n\n\n\n\nTAU-WAU-CHEE-HEZKAW,\n\nOR\n\nTHE WHITE FEATHER.\n\nA DACOTAH LEGEND.\n\n\nThere was an old man living in the centre of a forest, with his\ngrandson, whom he had taken when quite an infant. The child had no\nparents, brothers, or sisters; they had all been destroyed by six large\ngiants, and he had been informed that he had no other relative living\nbesides his grandfather. The band to whom he belonged had put up their\nchildren on a wager in a race against those of the giants, and had thus\nlost them. There was an old tradition in the band, that it would\nproduce a great man, who would wear a white feather, and who would\nastonish every one with his skill and feats of bravery.\n\nThe grandfather, as soon as the child could play about, gave him a bow\nand arrows to amuse himself. He went into the edge of the woods one\nday, and saw a rabbit; but not knowing what it was, he ran home and\ndescribed it to his grandfather. He told him what it was, that its\nflesh was good to eat, and that if he would shoot one of his arrows\ninto its body, he would kill it. He did so, and brought the little\nanimal home, which he asked his grandfather to boil, that they might\nfeast on it. He humored the boy in this, and encouraged him to go on in\nacquiring the knowledge of hunting, until he could kill deer and larger\nanimals; and he became, as he grew up, an expert hunter. As they lived\nalone, and away from other Indians, his curiosity was excited to know\nwhat was passing in the world. One day he came to the edge of a\nprairie, where he saw ashes like those at his grandfather's lodge, and\nlodge-poles left standing. He returned and inquired whether his\ngrandfather put up the poles and made the fire. He was answered no, nor\ndid he believe that he had seen anything of the kind. It was all\nimagination.\n\nAnother day he went out to see what there was curious; and, on entering\nthe woods, he heard a voice calling out to him, \"Come here, you\ndestined wearer of the White Feather. You do not yet wear it, but you\nare worthy of it. Return home and take a short nap. You will dream of\nhearing a voice, which will tell you to rise and smoke. You will see in\nyour dream a pipe, smoking sack, and a large white feather. When you\nawake you will find these articles. Put the feather on your head, and\nyou will become a great hunter, a great warrior, and a great man,\ncapable of doing anything. As a proof that you will become a great\nhunter, when you smoke, the smoke will turn into pigeons.\" The voice\nthen informed him who he was, and disclosed the true character of his\ngrandfather, who had imposed upon him. The voice-spirit then gave him a\n_vine_, and told him he was of an age to revenge the injuries of his\nrelations. \"When you meet your enemy,\" continued the spirit, \"you will\nrun a race with him. He will not see the vine, because it is enchanted.\nWhile you are running, you will throw it over his head and entangle\nhim, so that you will win the race.\"\n\nLong ere this speech was ended, he had turned to the quarter from which\nthe voice proceeded, and was astonished to behold a man, for as yet he\nhad never seen any man besides his grandfather, whose object it was to\nkeep him in ignorance. But the circumstance that gave him the most\nsurprise was, that this man, who had the looks of great age, was\ncomposed of _wood_ from his breast downward, and appeared to be fixed\nin the earth.\n\nHe returned home, slept, heard the voice, awoke, and found the promised\narticles. His grandfather was greatly surprised to find him with a\nwhite feather on his forehead, and to see flocks of pigeons flying out\nof his lodge. He then recollected what had been predicted, and began to\nweep at the prospect of losing his charge.\n\nInvested with these honors, the young man departed the next morning to\nseek his enemies and gratify his revenge. The giants lived in a very\nhigh lodge in the middle of a wood. He travelled on till he came to\nthis lodge, where he found that his coming had been made known by _the\nlittle spirits who carry the news_. The giants came out, and gave a cry\nof joy as they saw him coming. When he approached nearer, they began to\nmake sport of him, saying, \"Here comes the little man with the white\nfeather, who is to achieve such wonders.\" They, however, spoke very\nfair to him when he came up, saying he was a brave man, and would do\nbrave things. This they said to encourage, and the more surely to\ndeceive him. He, however, understood the object.\n\nHe went fearlessly up to the lodge. They told him to commence the race\nwith the smallest of their number. The point to which they were to run\nwas a peeled tree towards the rising sun, and then back to the\nstarting-place, which was marked by a Chaunkahpee, or war-club, made of\niron. This club was the stake, and whoever won it was to use it in\nbeating the other's brains out. If he beat the first giant, he was to\ntry the second, and so on until they had all measured speed with him.\nHe won the first race by a dexterous use of the vine, and immediately\ndespatched his competitor, and cut off his head. Next morning he ran\nwith the second giant, whom he also outran, killed, and decapitated. He\nproceeded in this way for five successive mornings, always conquering\nby the use of his vine, cutting off the heads of the vanquished. The\nsurvivor acknowledged his power, but prepared secretly to deceive him.\nHe wished him to leave the heads he had cut off, as he believed he\ncould again reunite them with the bodies, by means of one of their\n_medicines_. White Feather insisted, however, in carrying all the heads\nto his grandfather. One more contest was to be tried, which would\ndecide the victory; but, before going to the giant's lodge on the sixth\nmorning, he met his old counsellor in the woods, who was stationary. He\ntold him that he was about to be deceived. That he had never known any\nother sex but his own; but that, as he went on his way to the lodge, he\nwould meet the most beautiful woman in the world. He must pay no\nattention to her, but, on meeting her, he must wish himself changed\ninto a male elk. The transformation would take place immediately, when\nhe must go to feeding and not regard her.\n\nHe proceeded towards the lodge, met the female, and became an elk. She\nreproached him for having turned himself into an elk on seeing her;\nsaid she had travelled a great distance for the purpose of seeing him,\nand becoming his wife. Now this woman was the sixth giant, who had\nassumed this disguise; but Tau-Wau-Chee-Hezkaw remained in ignorance of\nit. Her reproaches and her beauty affected him so much, that he wished\nhimself a man again, and he at once resumed his natural shape. They sat\ndown together, and he began to caress her, and make love to her. He\nfinally ventured to lay his head on her lap, and went to sleep. She\npushed his head aside at first, for the purpose of trying if he was\nreally asleep; and when she was satisfied he was, she took her axe and\nbroke his back. She then assumed her natural shape, which was in the\nform of the sixth giant, and afterwards changed him into a dog, in\nwhich degraded form he followed his enemy to the lodge. He took the\nwhite feather from his brow, and wore it as a trophy on his own head.\n\nThere was an Indian village at some distance, in which there lived two\ngirls, who were rival sisters, the daughters of a chief. They were\nfasting to acquire power for the purpose of enticing the wearer of the\nwhite feather to visit their village. They each secretly hoped to\nengage his affections. Each one built herself a lodge at a short\ndistance from the village. The giant knowing this, and having now\nobtained the valued plume, went immediately to visit them. As he\napproached, the girls saw and recognized the feather. The eldest sister\nprepared her lodge with great care and parade, so as to attract the\neye. The younger, supposing that he was a man of sense, and would not\nbe enticed by mere parade, touched nothing in her lodge, but left it as\nit ordinarily was. The eldest went out to meet him, and invited him in.\nHe accepted her invitation, and made her his wife. The younger invited\nthe enchanted dog into her lodge, and made him a good bed, and treated\nhim with as much attention as if he were her husband.\n\nThe giant, supposing that whoever possessed the white feather possessed\nalso all its virtues, went out upon the prairie to hunt, but returned\nunsuccessful. The dog went out the same day a hunting upon the banks of\na river. He drew a stone out of the water, which immediately became a\nbeaver. The next day the giant followed the dog, and hiding behind a\ntree, saw the manner in which the dog went into the river and drew out\na stone, which at once turned into a beaver. As soon as the dog left\nthe place, the giant went to the river, and observing the same manner,\ndrew out a stone, and had the satisfaction of seeing it transformed\ninto a beaver. Tying it to his belt, he carried it home, and, as is\ncustomary, threw it down at the door of the lodge before he entered.\nAfter being seated a short time, he told his wife to bring in his belt\nor hunting girdle. She did so, and returned with it, with nothing tied\nto it but a _stone_.\n\nThe next day, the dog, finding his method of catching beavers had been\ndiscovered, went to a wood at some distance, and broke off a charred\nlimb from a burned tree, which instantly became a bear. The giant, who\nhad again watched him, did the same, and carried a bear home; but his\nwife, when she came to go out for it, found nothing but a black stick\ntied to his belt.\n\nThe giant's wife determined she would go to her father, and tell him\nwhat a valuable husband she had, who furnished her lodge with\nabundance. She set out while her husband went to hunt. As soon as they\nhad departed, the dog made signs to his mistress to sweat him after the\nmanner of the Indians. She accordingly made a lodge just large enough\nfor him to creep in. She then put in heated stones, and poured on\nwater. After this had been continued the usual time, he came out a very\nhandsome young man, but had not the power of speech.\n\nMeantime, the elder daughter had reached her father's, and told him of\nthe manner in which her sister supported a dog, treating him as her\nhusband, and of the singular skill this animal had in hunting. The old\nman, suspecting there was some magic in it, sent a deputation of young\nmen and women to ask her to come to him, and bring her dog along. When\nthis deputation arrived, they were surprised to find, in the place of\nthe dog, so fine a young man. They both accompanied the messengers to\nthe father, who was no less astonished. He assembled all the old and\nwise men of the nation to see the exploits which, it was reported, the\nyoung man could perform. The giant was among the number. He took his\npipe and filled it, and passed it to the Indians, to see if anything\nwould happen when they smoked. It was passed around to the dog, who\nmade a sign to hand it to the giant first, which was done, but nothing\naffected. He then took it himself. He made a sign to them to put the\nwhite feather upon his head. This was done, and immediately he regained\nhis speech. He then commenced smoking, and behold! immense flocks of\nwhite and blue pigeons rushed from the smoke.\n\nThe chief demanded of him his history, which he faithfully recounted.\nWhen it was finished, the chief ordered that the giant should be\ntransformed into a dog, and turned into the middle of the village,\nwhere the boys should pelt him to death with clubs. This sentence was\nexecuted.\n\nThe chief then ordered, on the request of the White Feather, that all\nthe young men should employ themselves four days in making arrows. He\nalso asked for a buffalo robe. This robe he cut into thin shreds, and\nsowed in the prairie. At the end of the four days he invited them to\ngather together all their arrows, and accompany him to a buffalo hunt.\nThey found that these shreds of skin had grown into a very large herd\nof buffalo. They killed as many as they pleased, and enjoyed a grand\nfestival, in honor of his triumph over the giants.\n\nHaving accomplished their labor, the White Feather got his wife to ask\nher father's permission to go with him on a visit to his grandfather.\nHe replied to this solicitation, that a woman must follow her husband\ninto whatever quarter of the world he may choose to go.\n\nThe young men then placed the white feather in his frontlet, and,\ntaking his war-club in his hand, led the way into the forest, followed\nby his faithful wife.\n\n\n\n\nPAUGUK,\n\nAND\n\nTHE MYTHOLOGICAL INTERPRETATION OF HIAWATHA.\n\n\nIn a class of languages, where the personification of ideas, or\nsentiments, frequently compensates for the paucity of expression, it\ncould hardly be expected that death should be omitted. The soul, or\nspirit, deemed to be an invisible essence, is denominated _Ochichaug_;\nthis is the term translators employ for the Holy Ghost. There is\nbelieved to be the spirit of a vital and personal animus, distinct from\nthis, to which they apply the term Jeebi or _Ghost_. Death, or the\nmythos of the condition of the human frame, deprived of even the\nsemblance of blood, and muscle, and life, is represented by the word\nPauguk. Pauguk is a horrible phantom of human bones, without muscular\ntissue or voice, the appearance of which presages speedy dissolution.\nOf all the myths of the Indians, this is the most gloomy and fearful.\n\nIn strict accordance, however, with aboriginal tastes and notions,\nPauguk is represented as a hunter. He is armed with a bow and arrows,\nor a pug-gamagan, or war-club. Instead of objects of the chase, men,\nwomen, and children are substituted as the objects of pursuit. To see\nhim is indicative of death. Some accounts represent him as covered with\na thin transparent skin, with the sockets of his eyes filled with balls\nof fire.\n\nPauguk never speaks. Unlike the _Jeebi_ or ghost, his limbs never\nassume the rotundity of life. Neither is he confounded in form with the\nnumerous class of Monedoes, or of demons. He does not possess the power\nof metamorphosis, or of transforming himself into the shapes of\nanimals. Unvaried in repulsiveness, he is ever an object of fear; but\nunlike every other kind or class of creation of the Indian mind, Pauguk\nnever disguises himself, or affects the cunning of concealment--never\neffects to be what he is not.\n\nManabozho alone had power to invoke him unharmed. When he had expended\nall his arts to overcome Paup-Puk-Keewiss, who could at will transform\nhimself, directly or indirectly, into any class or species of the\nanimal creation, going often, as he did, as a jeebi, from one carcass\ninto another, at last, at the final conflict at the rock, he dispatched\nhim with the real power of death, after summoning the elements of\nthunder and lightning to his aid. And when thus deprived of all\nsublunary power, the enraged Great Hare, Manito (such seems the meaning\nof Manabozho), changed the dead carcass of his enemy into the great\n_caniew_, or war eagle. Nothing had given Manabozho half the trouble\nand vexation of the flighty, defying, changeable and mischievous\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss, who eluded him by jumping from one end of the\ncontinent to the other. He had killed the great power of evil in the\nprince of serpents, who had destroyed Chebizbos his grandson--he had\nsurvived the flood produced by the great Serpent, and overcome, in\ncombat, the mysterious power held by the Pearl, or sea shell Feather,\nand the Mishemokwa, or great Bear with the wampum necklace, but\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss put him to the exercise of his reserved powers of\ndeath and annihilation. And it is by this act that we perceive that\nHiawatha, or Manabozho, was a divinity. Manabozho had been a hunter, a\nfisherman, a warrior, a suppliant, a poor man, a starveling, a laughing\nstock and a mere beggar; he now shows himself a god, and as such we\nmust regard him as the prime Indian myth.\n\nThis myth, the more it is examined, the more extensive does it appear\nto be incorporated in some shape in the Indian mythology. If\ninterpreted agreeably to the metaphysical symbols of the old world, it\nwould appear to be distilled from the same oriental symbolical\ncrucible, which produced an Osiris and a Typhon--for the American\nTyphon is represented by the Mishikinabik, or serpent, and the American\nOsiris by a Hiawatha, Manabozho, Micabo, or great Hare-God, or Ghost.\n\nThis myth, as it is recognized under the name of Hiawatha by the\nIroquois, is without the misadventures over which, in the person of\nManabozho, the Algonquins laugh so heartily, and the particular\nrecitals of which, as given in prior pages, afford so much amusement to\ntheir lodge circles. According to the Iroquois version, Tarenyawagon\nwas deputed by the Master of Life, who is also called the Holder of\nHeaven, to the earth, the better to prepare it for the residence of\nman, and to teach the tribes the knowledge necessary to their\ncondition, as well as to rid the land of giants and monsters. Having\naccomplished this benevolent labor, he laid aside his heavenly\ncharacter and name, assuming that of Hiawatha; took a wife, and settled\nin a beautiful part of the country. Hiawatha having set himself down to\nlive as one of them, it was his care to hold up, at all times, the best\nexamples of prudential wisdom. All things, hard or wondrous, were\npossible for him to do, as in the case of the hero of the Algonquin\nlegend, and he had, like him, a magic canoe to sail up and down the\nwaters wherever he wished.\n\nHiawatha, after he had performed the higher functions appertaining to\nhis character, settled down in the Iroquois country, and was\nuniversally regarded as a sage. He instructed the tribes how to repel\nsavage invaders, who were in the habit of scourging the country, and\nwas ever ready to give them wise counsels. The chief things of these\ngood counsels to the tribes were to attend to their proper vocation, as\nhunters and fishermen, to cultivate corn, and to cease dissensions and\nbickerings among themselves. He finally instructed them to form a\ngeneral league and confederacy against their common enemies. These\nmaxims were enforced at a general council of the Iroquois tribe, held\nat Onondaga, which place became the seat of their council fire, and\nfirst government. This normal council of Iroquois sages resulted in\nplacing the tribes in their assembled, not tribal capacity, under the\ncare of a moderator, or chief magistrate of the assembled cantons,\ncalled Atatarho.[72]\n\nTradition recites many particulars of the acts of Hiawatha. It is\npreserved in their recitals, that after his mission was virtually\nended, or, rather, drawing to a close, how he proceeded, in great\nstate, to the council, in his magic canoe, taking with him his favorite\ndaughter. With her he landed on the shore of the lake of Onondaga, and\nwas proceeding to the elevated grounds appointed for the council, when\na remarkable phenomenon appeared in the heavens, which seemed, in its\nsymbolical import, to say to Hiawatha: \"Thy work is near its close.\" A\nwhite bird, the bird of Heaven, appeared to come as a special messenger\nto him and to his daughter, appearing as a small speck high in the\nhigher atmosphere. As it descended and revealed its character, its\nflight was attended with the greatest swiftness and force, and with no\nlittle of the impetuosity of a stroke of lightning. To the dismay of\nall, it struck the daughter of Hiawatha with such force as to drive her\nremains into the earth, completely annihilating her. The bird itself\nwas annihilated in annihilating Hiawatha's daughter. All that remained\nof it were its scattered white plumes, purely white as silver clouds,\nand these plumes the warriors eagerly gathered as the chief tokens, to\nbe worn on their heads as symbols of their bravery in war--a custom\nmaintained to this day. Hiawatha stood aghast. He did not know how to\ninterpret the terrible token. He deeply mourned his daughter's fate;\nfor a long time he was inconsolable, and sat with his head down. But,\nin the end, and by persuasion, he roused himself from his reverie. His\nthoughts revolved on his original mission to the Indian tribes. The\nGreat Spirit perhaps tells me, he said to himself, that my work here\nbelow is finished, and I must return to him. For a while, he had not\nheeded the invitations to attend the largely gathered council which\nwaited for him, but as soon as his grief would enable him to attend, he\nroused himself for the task. After tasting food, he assumed his usual\nmanly dignity of character, and assumed the oratorical attitude.\nWaiting till the other speakers had finished, he addressed his last\ncounsels to the listening tribes. By his wisdom and eloquent appeal, he\nentranced them. By this valedictory address, replete with political\nwisdom, he closed his career. Having done this, he announced the\ntermination of his mission; then, entering his magic canoe, he began to\nrise in the air--sweet strains of music were heard to arise as he\nmounted, and these could be heard till he was carried up beyond human\nsight.\n\n      [72] Cusic tells us there were thirteen of these magistrates\n      before America was discovered. Here mythology takes the shape of\n      historical tradition.\n\n\n\n\nIENA, THE WANDERER,\n\nOR\n\nMAGIC BUNDLE.\n\nA CHIPPEWA ALLEGORY.\n\n\nThere was once a poor man called Iena,[73] who was in the habit of\nwandering about from place to place, forlorn, without relations and\nalmost helpless. One day, as he went on a hunting excursion, he hung up\nhis bundle on the branch of a tree, to relieve himself from the burden\nof carrying it, and then went in quest of game. On returning to the\nspot in the evening, he was surprised to find a small but neat lodge\nbuilt in the place where he had left his bundle; and on looking in, he\nbeheld a beautiful female sitting in the lodge, with his blanket lying\nbeside her. During the day he had been fortunate in killing a deer,\nwhich he had laid down at the lodge door. But, to his surprise, the\nwoman, in her attempt to bring it in, broke both her legs. He looked at\nher with astonishment, and thought to himself, \"I supposed I was\nblessed, but I find my mistake. Gweengweeshee,\"[74] said he, \"I will\nleave my game with you, that you may feast on it.\"\n\nHe then took up his bundle and departed. After walking some time he\ncame to another tree, on which he suspended his bundle as before, and\nwent in search of game. Success again rewarded his efforts, and he\nreturned bringing a deer, but found, as before, that a lodge had sprung\nup in the place where he had suspended his bundle. He looked in, and\nsaw, as before, a beautiful female sitting alone, with his bundle by\nher side. She arose, and came out to bring in the deer, which he had\ndeposited at the door, and he immediately went into the lodge and sat\nby the fire, as he felt fatigued with the day's labors. Wondering, at\nlast, at the delay of the woman, he arose, and peeping through the door\nof the lodge, beheld her eating all the fat of the deer. He exclaimed,\n\"I thought I was blessed, but I find I am mistaken.\" Then addressing\nthe woman, \"Poor Wabizhas,\"[75] said he, \"feast on the game that I have\nbrought.\" He again took up his bundle and departed, and as usual, hung\nit up on the branch of a tree, and wandered off in quest of game. In\nthe evening he returned with his customary good luck, bringing in a\nfine deer, and again found a lodge occupying the place of his bundle.\nHe gazed through an aperture in the side of the lodge, and saw a\nbeautiful woman sitting alone, with a bundle by her side. As soon as he\nentered the lodge, she arose with alacrity, brought in the carcass, cut\nit up, and hung up the meat to dry. After this, she prepared a portion\nof it for the supper of the weary hunter. The man thought to himself,\n\"Now I am certainly blessed.\" He continued his practice of hunting\nevery day, and the woman, on his return, always readily took care of\nthe meat, and prepared his meals for him. One thing, however,\nastonished him; he had never, as yet, seen her eat anything, and kindly\nsaid to her, \"Why do you not eat?\" She replied, \"I have food of my own,\nwhich I eat.\"\n\nOn the fourth day he brought home with him a branch of uzadi[76] as a\ncane, which he placed, with his game, at the door of the lodge. His\nwife, as usual, went out to prepare and bring in the meat. While thus\nengaged, he heard her laughing to herself, and saying, \"This is very\nacceptable.\" The man, in peeping out to see the cause of her joy, saw\nher, with astonishment, eating the bark of the poplar cane in the same\nmanner that beavers gnaw. He then exclaimed, \"Ho, ho! Ho, ho! this is\nAmik;\"[77] and ever afterward he was careful at evening to bring in a\nbough of the poplar or the red willow, when she would exclaim, \"Oh,\nthis is very acceptable; this is a change, for one gets tired eating\nwhite fish always (meaning the poplar); but the carp (meaning the red\nwillow) is a pleasant change.\"\n\nOn the whole, Iena was much pleased with his wife for her neatness and\nattention to the things in the lodge, and he lived a contented and\nhappy man. Being industrious, she made him beautiful bags from the bark\nof trees, and dressed the skins of the animals he killed in the most\nskilful manner. When spring opened, they found themselves blessed with\ntwo children, one of them resembling the father and the other the\nmother. One day the father made a bow and arrows for the child that\nresembled him, who was a son, saying, \"My son, you will use these\narrows to shoot at the little beavers when they begin to swim about the\nrivers.\" The mother, as soon as she heard this, was highly displeased;\nand taking her children, unknown to her husband, left the lodge in the\nnight. A small river ran near the lodge, which the woman approached\nwith her children. She built a dam across the stream, erected a lodge\nof earth, and lived after the manner of the beavers.\n\nWhen the hunter awoke, he found himself alone in his lodge, and his\nwife and children absent. He immediately made diligent search after\nthem, and at last discovered their retreat on the river. He approached\nthe place of their habitation, and throwing himself prostrate on the\ntop of the lodge, exclaimed, \"Shingisshenaun tshee neeboyaun.\"[78] The\nwoman allowed the children to go close to their father, but not to\ntouch him; for, as soon as they came very near, she would draw them\naway again, and in this manner she continued to torment him a long\ntime. The husband lay in this situation until he was almost starved,\nwhen a young female approached him, and thus accosted him: \"Look here;\nwhy are you keeping yourself in misery, and thus starving yourself? Eat\nthis,\" reaching him a little mokuk containing fresh raspberries which\nshe had just gathered. As soon as the beaveress, his former wife,\nbeheld this, she began to abuse the young woman, and said to her, \"Why\ndo you wish to show any kindness to that _animal_ that has but two\nlegs? you will soon repent it.\" She also made sport of the young woman,\nsaying, \"Look at her; she has a long nose, and she is just like a\nbear.\" The young woman, who was all the time a bear in disguise,\nhearing herself thus reproached, broke down the dam of the beaver, let\nthe water run out, and nearly killed the beaver herself. Then turning\nto the man, she thus addressed him: \"Follow me; I will be kind to you.\nFollow me closely. You must be courageous, for there are three persons\nwho are desirous of marrying me, and will oppose you. Be careful of\nyourself. Follow me nimbly, and, just as we approach the lodge, put\nyour feet in the prints of mine, for I have eight sisters who will do\ntheir utmost to divert your attention and make you lose the way. Look\nneither to the right nor the left, but enter the lodge just as I do,\nand take your seat where I do.\" As they proceeded they came in sight of\na large lodge, when he did as he had been directed, stepping in her\ntracks. As they entered the lodge the eight sisters clamorously\naddressed him. \"Oh, Ogidahkumigo[79] has lost his way,\" and each one\ninvited him to take his seat with her, desiring to draw him from their\nsister. The old people also addressed him as he entered, and said, \"Oh,\nmake room for our son-in-law.\" The man, however, took his seat by the\nside of his protectress, and was not farther importuned.\n\nAs they sat in the lodge, a great rushing of waters, as of a swollen\nriver, came through the centre of it, which also brought in its course a\nlarge stone, and left it before the man. When the water subsided, a\nlarge white bear came in, and taking up the stone, bit it, and scratched\nit with his paws, saying, \"This is the manner in which I would handle\nOgidahkumigo if I was jealous.\" A yellow bear also entered the lodge and\ndid the same. A black bear followed and did the same. At length the man\ntook up his bow and arrows, and prepared to shoot at the stone, saying,\n\"This is the way I would treat Odanamekumigo[80] if I was jealous.\" He\nthen drew up his bow and drove his arrow into the stone. Seeing this,\nthe bears turned around, and with their eyes fixed on him, stepped\nbackward and left the lodge, which highly delighted the woman. She\nexulted to think that her husband had conquered them.\n\nFinally, one of the old folks made a cry, and said, \"Come, come! there\nmust be a gathering of provisions for the winter.\" So they all took\ntheir _cossoes_, or bark dishes, and departed to gather acorns for\nthe winter. As they departed, the old man said to his daughter, \"Tell\nOgidahkumigo to go to the place where your sisters have gone and let\nhim select one of them, so that, through her aid, he may have some food\nfor himself during the winter; but be sure to caution him to be very\ncareful, when he is taking the skin from the animal, that he does not\ncut the flesh.\" No sooner had the man heard this message, than he\nselected one of his sisters-in-law; and when he was taking the skin\nfrom her, for she was all the while an enchanted female bear, although\ncareful, he cut her a little upon one of her arms, when she jumped up,\nassumed her natural form, and ran home. The man also went home, and\nfound her with her arm bound up, and quite unwell.\n\nA second cry was then made by the master of the lodge: \"Come come! seek\nfor winter quarters;\" and they all got ready to separate for the\nseason. By this time the man had two children, one resembling himself\nand the other his wife. When the cry was made, the little boy who\nresembled his father was in such a hurry in putting on his moccasins,\nthat he misplaced them, putting the moccasin of the right foot upon the\nleft. And this is the reason why the foot of the bear is turned in.\n\nThey proceeded to seek their winter quarters, the wife going before to\npoint the way. She always selected the _thickest_ part of the forest,\nwhere the child resembling the father found it difficult to get along;\nand he never failed to cry out and complain. Iena then went in advance,\nand sought the open plain, whereupon the child resembling the mother\nwould cry out and complain, because she disliked an _open_ path. As\nthey were encamping, the woman said to her husband, \"Go and break\nbranches for the lodge for the night.\" He did so; but when she looked\nat the _manner_ in which her husband broke the branches, she was very\nmuch offended, for he broke them _upward_ instead of _downward_. \"It is\nnot only very awkward,\" said she, \"but we will be found out; for the\nOgidahkumigoes[81] will see where we have passed by the branches we\nhave broken:\" to avoid this, they agreed to change their route, and\nwere finally well established in their winter quarters. The wife had\nsufficient food for her child, and would now and then give the dry\nberries she had gathered in the summer to her husband.\n\nOne day, as spring drew on, she said to her husband, \"I must boil you\nsome meat,\" meaning her own paws, which bears suck in the month of\nApril. She had all along told him, during the winter, that she meant to\nresume her real shape of a female bear, and to give herself up to the\nOgidahkumigoes, to be killed by them, and that the time of their coming\nwas near at hand. It came to pass, soon afterward, that a hunter\ndiscovered her retreat. She told her husband to move aside, \"for,\" she\nadded, \"I am now giving myself up.\" The hunter fired and killed her.\n\nIena then came out from his hiding-place, and went home with the\nhunter. As they went, he instructed him what he must hereafter do when\nhe killed bears. \"You must,\" said he, \"never cut the flesh in taking\noff the skin, nor hang up the feet with the flesh when drying it. But\nyou must take the head and feet, and decorate them handsomely, and\nplace tobacco on the head, for these animals are very fond of this\narticle, and on the _fourth day_ they come to life again.\"\n\n      [73] From Ienawdizzi, a wanderer.\n\n      [74] The night-hawk.\n\n      [75] A marten.\n\n      [76] The common poplar, or P. tremuloides.\n\n      [77] The beaver.\n\n      [78] Here I will lie until I die.\n\n      [79] This term means a man that lives on the surface of the\n      earth, as contradistinguished from beings living underground.\n\n      [80] He who lives in the city under ground.\n\n      [81] People who live above ground.\n\n\n\n\nMISHOSHA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE MAGICIAN OF LAKE SUPERIOR.\n\n\nIn an early age of the world, when there were fewer inhabitants than\nthere now are, there lived an Indian, in a remote place, who had a wife\nand two children. They seldom saw any one out of the circle of their\nown lodge. Animals were abundant in so secluded a situation, and the\nman found no difficulty in supplying his family with food.\n\nIn this way they lived in peace and happiness, which might have\ncontinued if the hunter had not found cause to suspect his wife. She\nsecretly cherished an attachment for a young man whom she accidentally\nmet one day in the woods. She even planned the death of her husband for\nhis sake, for she knew if she did not kill her husband, her husband,\nthe moment he detected her crime, would kill her.\n\nThe husband, however, eluded her project by his readiness and decision.\nHe narrowly watched her movements. One day he secretly followed her\nfootsteps into the forest, and having concealed himself behind a tree,\nhe soon beheld a tall young man approach and lead away his wife. His\narrows were in his hands, but he did not use them. He thought he would\nkill her the moment she returned.\n\nMeantime, he went home and sat down to think. At last he came to the\ndetermination of quitting her forever, thinking that her own conscience\nwould punish her sufficiently, and relying on her maternal feelings to\ntake care of the two children, who were boys, he immediately took up\nhis arms and departed.\n\nWhen the wife returned she was disappointed in not finding her husband,\nfor she had now concerted her plan, and intended to have dispatched\nhim. She waited several days, thinking he might have been led away by\nthe chase, but finding he did not return, she suspected the true cause.\nLeaving her two children in the lodge, she told them she was going a\nshort distance and would return. She then fled to her paramour and came\nback no more.\n\nThe children, thus abandoned, soon made way with the food left in the\nlodge, and were compelled to quit it in search of more. The eldest boy,\nwho was of an intrepid temper, was strongly attached to his brother,\nfrequently carrying him when he became weary, and gathering all the\nwild fruit he saw. They wandered deeper and deeper into the forest,\nlosing all traces of their former habitation, until they were\ncompletely lost in its mazes.\n\nThe eldest boy had a knife, with which he made a bow and arrows, and was\nthus enabled to kill a few birds for himself and brother. In this manner\nthey continued to pass on, from one piece of forest to another, not\nknowing whither they were going. At length they saw an opening through\nthe woods, and were shortly afterward delighted to find themselves on\nthe borders of a large lake. Here the elder brother busied himself in\npicking the seed pods of the wild rose, which he reserved as food. In\nthe mean time, the younger brother amused himself by shooting arrows in\nthe sand, one of which happened to fall into the lake. Panigwun,[82] the\nelder brother, not willing to lose the arrow, waded in the water to\nreach it. Just as he was about to grasp the arrow, a canoe passed up to\nhim with great rapidity. An old man, sitting in the centre, seized the\naffrighted youth and placed him in the canoe. In vain the boy addressed\nhim--\"My grandfather (a term of respect for old people), pray take my\nlittle brother also. Alone, I cannot go with you; he will starve if I\nleave him.\" Mishosha (the old man) only laughed at him. Then uttering\nthe charm, Chemaun Poll, and giving his canoe a slap, it glided through\nthe water with inconceivable swiftness. In a few moments they reached\nthe habitation of the magician, standing on an island in the centre of\nthe lake. Here he lived with his two daughters, who managed the affairs\nof his household. Leading the young man up to the lodge, he addressed\nhis eldest daughter. \"Here,\" said he, \"my daughter, I have brought a\nyoung man to be your husband.\" Husband! thought the young woman; rather\nanother victim of your bad arts, and your insatiate enmity to the human\nrace. But she made no reply, seeming thereby to acquiesce in her\nfather's will.\n\nThe young man thought he saw surprise depicted in the eyes of the\ndaughter, during the scene of this introduction, and determined to\nwatch events narrowly. In the evening he overheard the two daughters in\nconversation. \"There,\" said the eldest daughter, \"I told you he would\nnot be satisfied with his last sacrifice. He has brought another\nvictim, under the pretence of providing me a husband. Husband, indeed!\nthe poor youth will be in some horrible predicament before another sun\nhas set. When shall we be spared the scenes of vice and wickedness\nwhich are daily taking place before our eyes?\"\n\nPanigwun took the first opportunity of acquainting the daughters how he\nhad been carried off, and been compelled to leave his little brother on\nthe shore. They told him to wait until their father was asleep, then to\nget up and take his canoe, and using the charm he had obtained, it\nwould carry him quickly to his brother. That he could carry him food,\nprepare a lodge for him, and be back before daybreak. He did, in every\nrespect, as he had been directed--the canoe obeyed the charm, and\ncarried him safely over, and after providing for the subsistence of his\nbrother, he told him that in a short time he should come for him. Then\nreturning to the enchanted island, he resumed his place in the lodge,\nbefore the magician awoke. Once, during the night, Mishosha awoke, and\nnot seeing his destined son-in-law, asked his daughter what had become\nof him. She replied that he had merely stepped out, and would be back\nsoon. This satisfied him. In the morning, finding the young man in the\nlodge, his suspicions were completely lulled. \"I see, my daughter,\"\nsaid he, \"you have told the truth.\"\n\nAs soon as the sun arose, Mishosha thus addressed the young man. \"Come,\nmy son, I have a mind to gather gulls' eggs. I know an island where\nthere are great quantities, and I wish your aid in getting them.\" The\nyoung man saw no reasonable excuse; and getting into the canoe, the\nmagician gave it a slap, and uttering a command, they were in an\ninstant at the island. They found the shores strown with gulls' eggs,\nand the island full of birds of this species. \"Go, my son,\" said the\nold man, \"and gather the eggs, while I remain in the canoe.\"\n\nBut Panigwun had no sooner got ashore, than Mishosha pushed his canoe a\nlittle from the land, and exclaimed--\"Listen, ye gulls! you have long\nexpected an offering from me. I now give you a victim. Fly down and\ndevour him.\" Then striking his canoe, he left the young man to his\nfate.\n\nThe birds immediately came in clouds around their victim, darkening the\nair with their numbers. But the youth seizing the first that came near\nhim, and drawing his knife, cut off its head. He immediately skinned\nthe bird and hung the feathers as a trophy on his breast. \"Thus,\" he\nexclaimed, \"will I treat every one of you who approaches me. Forbear,\ntherefore, and listen to my words. It is not for you to eat human\nflesh. You have been given by the Great Spirit as food for man. Neither\nis it in the power of that old magician to do you any good. Take me on\nyour backs and carry me to his lodge, and you shall see that I am not\nungrateful.\" The gulls obeyed; collecting in a cloud for him to rest\nupon, and quickly flew to the lodge, where they arrived before the\nmagician. The daughters were surprised at his return, but Mishosha, on\nentering the lodge, conducted himself as if nothing extraordinary had\ntaken place.\n\nThe next day he again addressed the youth: \"Come, my son,\" said he, \"I\nwill take you to an island covered with the most beautiful stones and\npebbles, looking like silver. I wish you to assist me in gathering some\nof them. They will make handsome ornaments, and possess great medicinal\nvirtues.\" Entering the canoe, the magician made use of his charm, and\nthey were carried in a few moments to a solitary bay in an island,\nwhere there was a smooth sandy beach. The young man went ashore as\nusual, and began to search. \"A little further, a little further,\" cried\nthe old man. \"Upon that rock you will get some fine ones.\" Then pushing\nhis canoe from land--\"Come, thou great king of fishes,\" cried the old\nman; \"you have long expected an offering from me. Come, and eat the\nstranger whom I have just put ashore on your island.\" So saying, he\ncommanded his canoe to return, and it was soon out of sight.\n\nImmediately a monstrous fish thrust his long snout from the water,\ncrawling partially on the beach, and opening wide his jaws to receive\nhis victim. \"When!\" exclaimed the young man, drawing his knife and\nputting himself in a threatening attitude, \"when did you ever taste\nhuman flesh? Have a care of yourself. You were given by the Great\nSpirit to man, and if you, or any of your tribe eat human flesh you\nwill fall sick and die. Listen not to the words of that wicked man, but\ncarry me back to his island, in return for which I will present you a\npiece of red cloth.\" The fish complied, raising his back out of the\nwater, to allow the young man to get on. Then taking his way through\nthe lake, he landed his charge safely on the island before the return\nof the magician. The daughters were still more surprised to see that he\nhad escaped the arts of their father the second time. But the old man\non his return maintained his taciturnity and self-composure. He could\nnot, however, help saying to himself--\"What manner of boy is this, who\nis ever escaping from my power? But his spirit shall not save him. I\nwill entrap him to-morrow. Ha, ha, ha!\"\n\nNext day the magician addressed the young man as follows: \"Come, my\nson,\" said he, \"you must go with me to procure some young eagles. I\nwish to tame them. I have discovered an island where they are in great\nabundance.\" When they had reached the island, Mishosha led him inland\nuntil they came to the foot of a tall pine, upon which the nests were.\n\"Now, my son,\" said he, \"climb up this tree and bring down the birds.\"\nThe young man obeyed. When he had with great difficulty got near the\nnest, \"Now,\" exclaimed the magician, addressing the tree, \"stretch\nyourself up and be very tall.\" The tree rose up at the command.\n\"Listen, ye eagles,\" continued the old man, \"you have long expected a\ngift from me. I now present you this boy, who has had the presumption\nto molest your young. Stretch forth your claws and seize him.\" So\nsaying, he left the young man to his fate, and returned.\n\nBut the intrepid youth, drawing his knife, and cutting off the head of\nthe first eagle that menaced him, raised his voice and exclaimed, \"Thus\nwill I deal with all who come near me. What right have you, ye ravenous\nbirds, who were made to feed on beasts, to eat human flesh? Is it\nbecause that cowardly old canoe-man has bid you do so? He is an old\nwoman. He can neither do you good nor harm. See, I have already slain\none of your number. Respect my bravery, and carry me back that I may\nshow you how I shall treat you.\"\n\nThe eagles, pleased with his spirit, assented, and clustering thick\naround him formed a seat with their backs, and flew toward the\nenchanted island. As they crossed the water they passed over the\nmagician, lying half asleep in his canoe.\n\nThe return of the young man was hailed with joy by the daughters, who\nnow plainly saw that he was under the guidance of a strong spirit. But\nthe ire of the old man was excited, although he kept his temper under\nsubjection. He taxed his wits for some new mode of ridding himself of\nthe youth, who had so successfully baffled his skill. He next invited\nhim to go a hunting.\n\nTaking his canoe, they proceeded to an island and built a lodge to\nshelter themselves during the night. In the mean while the magician\ncaused a deep fall of snow, with a storm of wind and severe cold.\nAccording to custom, the young man pulled off his moccasins and\nleggings, and hung them before the fire to dry. After he had gone to\nsleep, the magician, watching his opportunity, got up, and taking one\nmoccasin and one legging, threw them into the fire. He then went to\nsleep. In the morning, stretching himself as he arose and uttering an\nexclamation of surprise, \"My son,\" said he, \"what has become of your\nmoccasin and legging? I believe this is the moon in which fire\nattracts, and I fear they have been drawn in.\" The young man suspected\nthe true cause of his loss, and rightly attributed it to a design of\nthe magician to freeze him to death on the march. But he maintained the\nstrictest silence, and drawing his conaus over his head, thus communed\nwith himself: \"I have full faith in the Manito who has preserved me\nthus far, I do not fear that he will forsake me in this cruel\nemergency. Great is his power, and I invoke it now that he may enable\nme to prevail over this wicked enemy of mankind.\"\n\nHe then drew on the remaining moccasin and legging, and taking a dead\ncoal from the fireplace, invoked his spirit to give it efficacy, and\nblackened his foot and leg as far as the lost garment usually reached.\nHe then got up and announced himself ready for the march. In vain\nMishosha led him through snows and over morasses, hoping to see the lad\nsink at every moment. But in this he was disappointed, and for the\nfirst time they returned home together.\n\nTaking courage from this success, the young man now determined to try\nhis own power, having previously consulted with the daughters. They all\nagreed that the life the old man led was detestable, and that whoever\nwould rid the world of him, would entitle himself to the thanks of the\nhuman race.\n\nOn the following day the young man thus addressed his hoary captor: \"My\ngrandfather, I have often gone with you on perilous excursions, and\nnever murmured. I must now request that you will accompany me. I wish to\nvisit my little brother, and to bring him home with me.\" They\naccordingly went on a visit to the main land, and found the little lad\nin the spot where he had been left. After taking him into the canoe, the\nyoung man again addressed the magician: \"My grandfather, will you go and\ncut me a few of those red willows on the bank, I wish to prepare some\nsmoking mixture.\" \"Certainly, my son,\" replied the old man; \"what you\nwish is not very hard. Ha, ha, ha! do you think me too old to get up\nthere?\" No sooner was Mishosha ashore, than the young man, placing\nhimself in the proper position struck the canoe with his hand, and\npronouncing the charm, N'chimaun Poll, the canoe immediately flew\nthrough the water on its return to the island. It was evening when the\ntwo brothers arrived, and carried the canoe ashore. But the elder\ndaughter informed the young man that unless he sat up and watched the\ncanoe, and kept his hand upon it, such was the power of their father, it\nwould slip off and return to him. Panigwun watched faithfully till near\nthe dawn of day, when he could no longer resist the drowsiness which\noppressed him, and he fell into a short doze. In the mean time, the\ncanoe slipped off and sought its master, who soon returned in high glee.\n\"Ha, ha, ha! my son,\" said he; \"you thought to play me a trick. It was\nvery clever. But you see I am too old for you.\"\n\nA short time after, the youth again addressed the magician. \"My\ngrandfather, I wish to try my skill in hunting. It is said there is\nplenty of game on an island not far off, and I have to request that you\nwill take me there in your canoe.\" They accordingly went to the island\nand spent the day in hunting. Night coming on they put up a temporary\nlodge. When the magician had sunk into a profound sleep, the young man\ngot up, and taking one of Mishosha's leggings and moccasins from the\nplace where they hung, threw them into the fire, thus retaliating the\nartifice before played upon himself. He had discovered that the foot\nand leg were the only vulnerable parts of the magician's body. Having\ncommitted these articles to the fire, he besought his Manito that he\nwould raise a great storm of snow, wind, and hail, and then laid\nhimself down beside the old man. Consternation was depicted on the\ncountenance of the latter, when he awoke in the morning and found his\nmoccasin and legging missing. \"I believe, my grandfather,\" said the\nyoung man, \"that this is the moon in which fire attracts, and I fear\nyour foot and leg garments have been drawn in.\" Then rising and bidding\nthe old man follow him, he began the morning's hunt, frequently turning\nto see how Mishosha kept up. He saw him faltering at every step, and\nalmost benumbed with cold, but encouraged him to follow, saying, we\nshall soon get through and reach the shore; although he took pains, at\nthe same time, to lead him in roundabout ways, so as to let the frost\ntake complete effect. At length the old man reached the brink of the\nisland where the woods are succeeded by a border of smooth sand. But he\ncould go no farther; his legs became stiff and refused motion, and he\nfound himself fixed to the spot. But he still kept stretching out his\narms and swinging his body to and fro. Every moment he found the\nnumbness creeping higher. He felt his legs growing downward like roots,\nthe feathers of his head turned to leaves, and in a few seconds he\nstood a tall and stiff sycamore, leaning toward the water.\n\nPanigwun leaped into the canoe, and pronouncing the charm, was soon\ntransported to the island, where he related his victory to the\ndaughters. They applauded the deed, agreed to put on mortal shapes,\nbecome wives to the two young men, and forever quit the enchanted\nisland. And passing immediately over to the main land, they lived lives\nof happiness and peace.\n\n      [82] The end wing feather.\n\n\n\n\nPEETA KWAY,\n\nTHE FOAM-WOMAN.\n\nAN OTTOWA LEGEND.\n\n\nThere once lived a woman called Monedo Kway[83] on the sand mountains\ncalled \"the Sleeping Bear,\" of Lake Michigan, who had a daughter as\nbeautiful as she was modest and discreet. Everybody spoke of the beauty\nof this daughter. She was so handsome that her mother feared she would\nbe carried off, and to prevent it she put her in a box on the lake,\nwhich was tied by a long string to a stake on the shore. Every morning\nthe mother pulled the box ashore, and combed her daughter's long,\nshining hair, gave her food, and then put her out again on the lake.\n\nOne day a handsome young man chanced to come to the spot at the moment\nshe was receiving her morning's attentions from her mother. He was\nstruck with her beauty, and immediately went home and told his feelings\nto his uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician. \"My\nnephew,\" replied the old man, \"go to the mother's lodge, and sit down\nin a modest manner, without saying a word. You need not ask her the\nquestion. But whatever _you think_ she will understand, and what _she\nthinks_ in answer you will also understand.\" The young man did so. He\nsat down, with his head dropped in a thoughtful manner, without\nuttering a word. He then thought, \"I wish she would give me her\ndaughter.\" Very soon he understood the mother's thoughts in reply.\n\"Give you my daughter?\" thought she; \"_you_! No, indeed, my daughter\nshall never marry _you_.\" The young man went away and reported the\nresult to his uncle. \"Woman without good sense;\" said he, \"who is she\nkeeping her daughter for? Does she think she will marry the\nMudjikewis?[84] Proud heart! we will try her magic skill, and see\nwhether she can withstand our power.\" The pride and haughtiness of the\nmother was talked of by the spirits living on that part of the lake.\nThey met together and determined to exert their power in humbling her.\nFor this purpose they resolved to raise a great storm on the lake. The\nwater began to toss and roar, and the tempest became so severe, that\nthe string broke, and the box floated off through the straits down Lake\nHuron, and struck against the sandy shores at its outlet. The place\nwhere it struck was near the lodge of a superannuated old spirit called\nIshkwon Daimeka, or the keeper of the gate of the lakes. He opened the\nbox and let out the beautiful daughter, took her into his lodge, and\nmarried her.\n\nWhen the mother found that her daughter had been blown off by the\nstorm, she raised very loud cries and lamented exceedingly. This she\ncontinued to do for a long time, and would not be comforted. At length,\nafter two or three years, the spirits had pity on her, and determined\nto raise another storm and bring her back. It was even a greater storm\nthan the first; and when it began to wash away the ground and encroach\non the lodge of Ishkwon Daimeka, she leaped into the box, and the waves\ncarried her back to the very spot of her mother's lodge on the shore.\nMonedo Equa was overjoyed; but when she opened the box, she found that\nher daughter's beauty had almost all departed. However, she loved her\nstill because she was her daughter, and now thought of the young man\nwho had made her the offer of marriage. She sent a formal message to\nhim, but he had altered his mind, for he knew that she had been the\nwife of another: \"_I_ marry your daughter?\" said he; \"_your_ daughter!\nNo, indeed! I shall never marry her.\"\n\nThe storm that brought her back was so strong and powerful, that it\ntore away a large part of the shore of the lake, and swept off Ishkwon\nDaimeka's lodge, the fragments of which, lodging in the straits, formed\nthose beautiful islands which are scattered in the St. Clair and\nDetroit rivers. The old man himself was drowned, and his bones are\nburied under them. They heard him singing his songs of lamentation as\nhe was driven off on a portion of his lodge; as if he had been called\nto testify his bravery and sing his war song at the stake.\n\n    I ride the waters like the winds;\n    No storms can blench my heart.\n\n      [83] Female spirit or prophetess.\n\n      [84] A term indicative of the heir or successor to the first\n      place in power.\n\n\n\n\nPAH-HAH-UNDOOTAH,\n\nTHE RED HEAD.\n\nA DACOTAH LEGEND.\n\n\nAs spring approaches, the Indians return from their wintering grounds\nto their villages, engage in feasting, soon exhaust their stock of\nprovisions, and begin to suffer for the want of food. Such of the\nhunters as are of an active and enterprising cast of character, take\nthe occasion to separate from the mass of the population, and remove to\nsome neighboring locality in the forest, which promises the means of\nsubsistence during this season of general lassitude and enjoyment.\n\nAmong the families who thus separated themselves, on a certain occasion,\nthere was a man called Odshedoph Waucheentongah, or the Child of Strong\nDesires, who had a wife and one son. After a day's travel he reached an\nample wood with his family, which was thought to be a suitable place to\nencamp. The wife fixed the lodge, while the husband went out to hunt.\nEarly in the evening he returned with a deer. Being tired and thirsty he\nasked his son to go to the river for some water. The son replied that it\nwas dark and he was afraid. He urged him to go, saying that his mother,\nas well as himself, was tired, and the distance to the water was very\nshort. But no persuasion was of any avail. He refused to go. \"Ah, my\nson,\" said the father, at last, \"if you are afraid to go to the river,\nyou will never kill the Red Head.\"\n\nThe boy was deeply mortified by this observation. It seemed to call up\nall his latent energies. He mused in silence. He refused to eat, and\nmade no reply when spoken to.\n\nThe next day he asked his mother to dress the skin of the deer, and make\nit into moccasins for him, while he busied himself in preparing a bow\nand arrows. As soon as these things were done, he left the lodge one\nmorning at sunrise, without saying a word to his father or mother. He\nfired one of his arrows into the air, which fell westward. He took that\ncourse, and at night coming to the spot where the arrow had fallen, was\nrejoiced to find it piercing the heart of a deer. He refreshed himself\nwith a meal of the venison, and the next morning fired another arrow.\nAfter travelling all day, he found it also in another deer. In this\nmanner he fired four arrows, and every evening found that he had killed\na deer. What was very singular, however, was, that he left the arrows\nsticking in the carcasses, and passed on without withdrawing them. In\nconsequence of this, he had no arrow for the fifth day, and was in great\ndistress at night for the want of food. At last he threw himself upon\nthe ground in despair, concluding that he might as well perish there as\ngo further. But he had not lain long before he heard a hollow, rumbling\nnoise, in the ground beneath him. He sprang up, and discovered at a\ndistance the figure of a human being, walking with a stick. He looked\nattentively and saw that the figure was walking in a wide beaten path,\nin a prairie, leading from a lodge to a lake. To his surprise, this\nlodge was at no great distance. He approached a little nearer and\nconcealed himself. He soon discovered that the figure was no other than\nthat of the terrible witch, Wok-on-kahtohn-zooeyah-pee-kah-haitchee, or\nthe little old woman who makes war. Her path to the lake was perfectly\nsmooth and solid, and the noise our adventurer had heard, was caused by\nthe striking of her walking staff upon the ground. The top of this staff\nwas decorated with a string of the toes and bills of birds of every\nkind, who at every stroke of the stick, fluttered and sung their various\nnotes in concert.\n\nShe entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, which was entirely\ncomposed of the scalps of women. Before folding it, she shook it\nseveral times, and at every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of\nlaughter, in which the old hag joined. Nothing could have frightened\nhim more than this horrific exhibition. After laying by the cloak she\ncame directly to him. She informed him that she had known him from the\ntime he left his father's lodge, and watched his movements. She told\nhim not to fear or despair, for she would be his friend and protector.\nShe invited him into her lodge, and gave him a supper. During the\nrepast, she inquired of him his motives for visiting her. He related\nhis history, stated the manner in which he had been disgraced, and the\ndifficulties he labored under. She cheered him with the assurance of\nher friendship, and told him he would be a brave man yet.\n\nShe then commenced the exercise of her power upon him. His hair being\nvery short, she took a large leaden comb, and after drawing it through\nhis hair several times, it became of a handsome feminine length. She\nthen proceeded to dress him as a female, furnishing him with the\nnecessary garments, and decorated his face with paints of the most\nbeautiful dye. She gave him a bowl of shining metal. She directed him to\nput in his girdle a blade of scented sword-grass, and to proceed the\nnext morning to the banks of the lake, which was no other than that over\nwhich the Red Head reigned. Now Pah-hah-undootah, or the Red Head, was a\nmost powerful sorcerer and the terror of all the country, living upon an\nisland in the centre of the lake.\n\nShe informed him that there would be many Indians on the island, who,\nas soon as they saw him use the shining bowl to drink with, would come\nand solicit him to be their wife, and to take him over to the island.\nThese offers he was to refuse, and say that he had come a great\ndistance to be the wife of the Red Head, and that if the chief could\nnot come for her in his own canoe, she should return to her village.\nShe said that as soon as the Red Head heard of this, he would come for\nher in his own canoe, in which she must embark. On reaching the island\nhe must consent to be his wife, and in the evening induce him to take a\nwalk out of the village, when he was to take the first opportunity to\ncut off his head with the blade of grass. She also gave him general\nadvice how he was to conduct himself to sustain his assumed character\nof a woman. His fear would scarcely permit him to accede to this plan,\nbut the recollection of his father's words and looks decided him.\n\nEarly in the morning, he left the witch's lodge, and took the hard\nbeaten path to the banks of the lake. He reached the water at a point\ndirectly opposite the Red Head's village. It was a beautiful day. The\nheavens were clear, and the sun shone out in the greatest effulgence.\nHe had not been long there, having sauntered along the beach, when he\ndisplayed the glittering bowl, by dipping water from the lake. Very\nsoon a number of canoes came off from the island. The men admired his\ndress, and were charmed with his beauty, and a great number made\nproposals of marriage. These he promptly declined, agreeably to the\nconcerted plan. When the facts were reported to the Red Head, he\nordered his canoe to be put in the water by his chosen men, and crossed\nover to see this wonderful girl. As he came near the shore, he saw that\nthe ribs of the sorcerer's canoe were formed of living rattlesnakes,\nwhose heads pointed outward to guard him from enemies. Our adventurer\nhad no sooner stepped into the canoe than they began to hiss and\nrattle, which put him in a great fright. But the magician spoke to\nthem, after which they became pacified and quiet, and all at once they\nwere at the landing upon the island. The marriage immediately took\nplace, and the bride made presents of various valuables which had been\nfurnished by the old witch.\n\nAs they were sitting in the lodge surrounded by friends and relatives,\nthe mother of the Red Head regarded the face of her new daughter-in-law\nfor a long time with fixed attention. From this scrutiny she was\nconvinced that this singular and hasty marriage augured no good to her\nson. She drew her husband aside and disclosed to him her suspicions:\n\"This can be no female,\" said she; \"the figure and manners, the\ncountenance, and more especially the expression of the eyes, are,\nbeyond a doubt, those of a man.\" Her husband immediately rejected her\nsuspicions, and rebuked her severely for the indignity offered to her\ndaughter-in-law. He became so angry, that seizing the first thing that\ncame to hand, which happened to be his pipe stem, he beat her\nunmercifully. This act requiring to be explained to the spectators, the\nmock bride immediately rose up, and assuming an air of offended\ndignity, told the Red Head that after receiving so gross an insult from\nhis relatives he could not think of remaining with him as his wife, but\nshould forthwith return to his village and friends. He left the lodge\nfollowed by the Red Head, and walked until he came upon the beach of\nthe island, near the spot where they had first landed. Red Head\nentreated him to remain. He pressed him by every motive which he\nthought might have weight, but they were all rejected. During this\nconference they had seated themselves upon the ground, and Red Head, in\ngreat affliction, reclined his head upon his fancied wife's lap. This\nwas the opportunity ardently sought for, and it was improved to the\nbest advantage. Every means was taken to lull him to sleep, and partly\nby a soothing manner, and partly by a seeming compliance with his\nrequest, the object was at last attained. Red Head fell into a sound\nsleep. Our aspirant for the glory of a brave man then drew his blade of\ngrass, and drawing it once across the neck of the Red Head completely\nsevered the head from the body.\n\nHe immediately stripped off his dress, seized the bleeding head, and\nplunging into the lake, swam safely over to the main shore. He had\nscarcely reached it, when, looking back, he saw amid the darkness the\ntorches of persons come out in search of the new-married couple. He\nlistened till they had found the headless body, and he heard their\npiercing shrieks of sorrow, as he took his way to the lodge of his kind\nadviser.\n\nShe received him with rejoicing. She admired his prudence, and told him\nhis bravery could never be questioned again. Lifting up the head, she\nsaid he need only have brought the scalp. She cut off a small piece for\nherself, and told him he might now return with the head, which would be\nevidence of an achievement that would cause the Indians to respect him.\nIn your way home, she said, you will meet with but one difficulty.\nMaunkah Keesh Woccaung, or the spirit of the Earth, requires an offering\nfrom those who perform extraordinary achievements. As you walk along in\na prairie, there will be an earthquake. The earth will open and divide\nthe prairie in the middle. Take this partridge and throw it into the\nopening, and instantly spring over it. All this happened precisely as it\nhad been foretold. He cast the partridge into the crevice and leapt over\nit. He then proceeded without obstruction to a place near his village,\nwhere he secreted his trophy. On entering the village he found his\nparents had returned from the place of their spring encampment, and were\nin great sorrow for their son, whom they supposed to be lost. One and\nanother of the young men had presented themselves to the disconsolate\nparents, and said, \"Look up, I am your son.\" Having been often deceived\nin this manner, when their own son actually presented himself, they sat\nwith their heads down, and with their eyes nearly blinded with weeping.\nIt was some time before they could be prevailed upon to bestow a glance\nupon him. It was still longer before they recognized him for their son;\nwhen he recounted his adventures they believed him mad. The young men\nlaughed at him. He left the lodge and soon returned with his trophy. It\nwas soon recognized. All doubts of the reality of his adventures now\nvanished. He was greeted with joy and placed among the first warriors of\nthe nation. He finally became a chief, and his family were ever after\nrespected and esteemed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE STONE CANOE.\n\n\nThere was once a very beautiful young girl, who died suddenly on the\nday she was to have been married to a handsome young man. He was also\nbrave, but his heart was not proof against this loss. From the hour she\nwas buried, there was no more joy or peace for him. He went often to\nvisit the spot where the women had buried her, and sat musing there,\nwhen, it was thought, by some of his friends, he would have done better\nto try to amuse himself in the chase, or by diverting his thoughts in\nthe war-path. But war and hunting had both lost their charms for him.\nHis heart was already dead within him. He pushed aside both his\nwar-club and his bow and arrows.\n\nHe had heard the old people say, that there was a path that led to the\nland of souls, and he determined to follow it. He accordingly set out,\none morning, after having completed his preparations for the journey.\nAt first he hardly knew which way to go. He was only guided by the\ntradition that he must go south. For a while he could see no change in\nthe face of the country. Forests, and hills, and valleys, and streams\nhad the same looks which they wore in his native place. There was snow\non the ground, when he set out, and it was sometimes seen to be piled\nand matted on the thick trees and bushes. At length it began to\ndiminish, and finally disappeared. The forest assumed a more cheerful\nappearance, and the leaves put forth their buds, and before he was\naware of the completeness of the change, he found himself surrounded by\nspring. He had left behind him the land of snow and ice. The air became\nmild; the dark clouds of winter had rolled away from the sky; a pure\nfield of blue was above him, and as he went he saw flowers beside his\npath, and heard the songs of birds. By these signs he knew that he was\ngoing the right way, for they agreed with the traditions of his tribe.\nAt length he spied a path. It led him through a grove, then up a long\nand elevated ridge, on the very top of which he came to a lodge. At the\ndoor stood an old man, with white hair, whose eyes, though deeply sunk,\nhad a fiery brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown loosely\naround his shoulders, and a staff in his hands. It was Chebiabos.\n\nThe young Chippewa began to tell his story; but the venerable chief\narrested him, before he had proceeded to speak ten words. \"I have\nexpected you,\" he replied, \"and had just risen to bid you welcome to my\nabode. She whom you seek, passed here but a few days since, and being\nfatigued with her journey, rested herself here. Enter my lodge and be\nseated, and I will then satisfy your inquiries, and give you directions\nfor your journey from this point.\" Having done this, they both issued\nforth to the lodge door. \"You see yonder gulf,\" said he, \"and the wide\nstretching blue plains beyond. It is the land of souls. You stand upon\nits borders, and my lodge is the gate of entrance. But you cannot take\nyour body along. Leave it here with your bow and arrows, your bundle,\nand your dog. You will find them safe on your return.\" So saying, he\nre-entered the lodge, and the freed traveller bounded forward, as if\nhis feet had suddenly been endowed with the power of wings. But all\nthings retained their natural colors and shapes. The woods and leaves,\nand streams and lakes, were only more bright and comely than he had\never witnessed. Animals bounded across his path, with a freedom and a\nconfidence which seemed to tell him, there was no blood shed here.\nBirds of beautiful plumage inhabited the groves, and sported in the\nwaters. There was but one thing, in which he saw a very unusual effect.\nHe noticed that his passage was not stopped by trees or other objects.\nHe appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the\nsouls or shadows of material trees. He became sensible that he was in a\nland of shadows. When he had travelled half a day's journey, through a\ncountry which was continually becoming more attractive, he came to the\nbanks of a broad lake, in the centre of which was a large and beautiful\nisland. He found a canoe of shining white stone, tied to the shore. He\nwas now sure that he had come the right path, for the aged man had told\nhim of this. There were also shining paddles. He immediately entered\nthe canoe, and took the paddles in his hands, when to his joy and\nsurprise, on turning round, he beheld the object of his search in\nanother canoe, exactly its counterpart in everything. She had exactly\nimitated his motions, and they were side by side. They at once pushed\nout from shore and began to cross the lake. Its waves seemed to be\nrising, and at a distance looked ready to swallow them up; but just as\nthey entered the whitened edge of them they seemed to melt away, as if\nthey were but the images of waves. But no sooner was one wreath of foam\npassed, than another, more threatening still, rose up. Thus they were\nin perpetual fear; and what added to it, was the _clearness of the\nwater_, through which they could see heaps of beings who had perished\nbefore, and whose bones lay strewed on the bottom of the lake. The\nMaster of Life had, however, decreed to let them pass, for the actions\nof neither of them had been bad. But they saw many others struggling\nand sinking in the waves. Old men and young men, males and females of\nall ages and ranks, were there; some passed, and some sank. It was only\nthe little children whose canoes seemed to meet no waves. At length,\nevery difficulty was gone, as in a moment, and they both leaped out on\nthe happy island. They felt that the very air was food. It strengthened\nand nourished them. They wandered together over the blissful fields,\nwhere everything was formed to please the eye and the ear. There were\nno tempests--there was no ice, no chilly winds--no one shivered for the\nwant of warm clothes: no one suffered for hunger--no one mourned the\ndead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars. There was no hunting\nof animals; for the air itself was their food. Gladly would the young\nwarrior have remained there forever, but he was obliged to go back for\nhis body. He did not see the Master of Life, but he heard his voice in\na soft breeze. \"Go back,\" said this voice, \"to the land from whence you\ncome. Your time has not yet come. The duties for which I made you, and\nwhich you are to perform, are not yet finished. Return to your people\nand accomplish the duties of a good man. You will be the ruler of your\ntribe for many days. The rules you must observe will be told you by my\nmessenger, who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back your body, he\nwill tell you what to do. Listen to him, and you shall afterwards\nrejoin the spirit, which you must now leave behind. She is accepted,\nand will be ever here, as young and as happy as she was when I first\ncalled her from the land of snows.\" When this voice ceased, the\nnarrator awoke. It was the fancy work of a dream, and he was still in\nthe bitter land of snows, and hunger, and tears.\n\n\n\n\nONAIAZO, THE SKY-WALKER.\n\nA LEGEND OF A VISIT TO THE SUN.\n\nAN OTTOWA MYTH.\n\n\nA long time ago, there lived an aged Odjibwa and his wife, on the\nShores of Lake Huron. They had an only son, a very beautiful boy, whose\nname was O-na-wut-a-qut-o, or he that catches the clouds. The family\nwere of the totem of the beaver. The parents were very proud of him,\nand thought to make him a celebrated man, but when he reached the\nproper age, he would not submit to the We-koon-de-win, or fast. When\nthis time arrived, they gave him charcoal, instead of his breakfast,\nbut he would not blacken his face. If they denied him food, he would\nseek for birds' eggs, along the shores, or pick up the heads of fish\nthat had been cast away, and broil them. One day, they took away\nviolently the food he had thus prepared, and cast him some coals in\nplace of it. This act brought him to a decision. He took the coals and\nblackened his face, and went out of the lodge. He did not return, but\nslept without; and during the night, he had a dream. He dreamed that he\nsaw a very beautiful female come down from the clouds and stand by his\nside. \"O-no-wut-a-qut-o,\" said she, \"I am come for you--step in my\ntracks.\" The young man did so, and presently felt himself ascending\nabove the tops of the trees--he mounted up, step by step, into the air,\nand through the clouds. His guide, at length, passed through an\norifice, and he, following her, found himself standing on a beautiful\nplain.\n\nA path led to a splendid lodge. He followed her into it. It was large,\nand divided into two parts. On one end he saw bows and arrows, clubs\nand spears, and various warlike implements tipped with silver. On the\nother end were things exclusively belonging to females. This was the\nhome of his fair guide, and he saw that she had, on the frame, a broad\nrich belt, of many colors, which she was weaving. She said to him: \"My\nbrother is coming and I must hide you.\" Putting him in one corner, she\nspread the belt over him. Presently the brother came in, very richly\ndressed, and shining as if he had points of silver all over him. He\ntook down from the wall a splendid pipe, together with his sack of\na-pa-ko-ze-gun, or smoking mixture. When he had finished regaling\nhimself in this way, and laid his pipe aside, he said to his sister:\n\"Nemissa\" (which is, my elder sister), \"when will you quit these\npractices? Do you forget that the Greatest of the Spirits had commanded\nthat you should not take away the child from below? Perhaps you suppose\nthat you have concealed O-no-wut-a-qut-o, but do I not know of his\ncoming? If you would not offend me, send him back immediately.\" But\nthis address did not alter her purpose. She would not send him back.\nFinding that she was purposed in her mind, he then spoke to the young\nlad, and called him from his hiding-place. \"Come out of your\nconcealment,\" said he, \"and walk about and amuse yourself. You will\ngrow hungry if you remain there.\" He then presented him a bow and\narrows, and a pipe of red stone, richly ornamented. This was taken as\nthe word of consent to his marriage; so the two were considered husband\nand wife from that time.\n\nO-no-wut-a-qut-o found everything exceedingly fair and beautiful around\nhim, but he found no inhabitants except her brother. There were flowers\non the plains. There were bright and sparkling streams. There were\ngreen valleys and pleasant trees. There were gay birds and beautiful\nanimals, but they were not such as he had been accustomed to see. There\nwas also day and night, as on the earth; but he observed that every\nmorning the brother regularly left the lodge, and remained absent all\nday; and every evening the sister departed, though it was commonly but\nfor a part of the night.\n\nHis curiosity was aroused to solve this mystery. He obtained the\nbrother's consent to accompany him in one of his daily journeys. They\ntravelled over a smooth plain, without boundaries, until\nO-no-wut-a-qut-o felt the gnawings of appetite, and asked his companion\nif there were no game. \"Patience! my brother,\" said he, \"we shall soon\nreach the spot where I eat my dinner, and you will then see how I am\nprovided.\" After walking on a long time, they came to a place which was\nspread over with fine mats, where they sat down to refresh themselves.\nThere was, at this place, a hole through the sky; and O-no-wut-a-qut-o,\nlooked down, at the bidding of his companion, upon the earth. He saw\nbelow the great lakes, and the villages of the Indians. In one place,\nhe saw a war party stealing on the camp of their enemies. In another,\nhe saw feasting and dancing. On a green plain, young men were engaged\nat ball. Along a stream, women were employed in gathering the a-puk-wa\nfor mats.\n\n\"Do you see,\" said the brother, \"that group of children playing beside\na lodge? Observe that beautiful and active boy,\" said he, at the same\ntime darting something at him, from his hand. The child immediately\nfell, and was carried into the lodge.\n\nThey looked again, and saw the people gathering about the lodge. They\nheard the she-she-gwun, of the meeta, and the song he sung, asking that\nthe child's life might be spared. To this request, the companion of\nO-no-wut-a-qut-o made answer: \"Send me up the sacrifice of a white\ndog.\" Immediately a feast was ordered by the parents of the child, the\nwhite dog was killed, his carcass was roasted, and all the wise men and\nmedicine men of the village assembled to witness the ceremony. \"There\nare many below,\" continued the voice of the brother, \"whom you call\ngreat in medical skill, but it is because their ears are open, and they\nlisten to my voice, that they are able to succeed. When I have struck\none with sickness, they direct the people to look to me; and when they\nsend me the offering I ask, I remove my hand from off them, and they\nare well.\" After he had said this, they saw the sacrifice parcelled out\nin dishes, for those who were at the feast. The master of the feast\nthen said, \"We send this to thee, great Manito,\" and immediately the\nroasted animal came up. Thus their dinner was supplied, and after they\nhad eaten, they returned to the lodge by another way.\n\nAfter this manner they lived for some time; but the place became\nwearisome at last. O-no-wut-a-qut-o thought of his friends, and wished\nto go back to them. He had not forgotten his native village, and his\nfather's lodge; and he asked leave of his wife to return. At length she\nconsented. \"Since you are better pleased,\" she replied, \"with the cares\nand the ills, and the poverty of the world, than with the peaceful\ndelights of the sky, and its boundless prairies, go! I give you\npermission, and since I have brought you hither, I will conduct you\nback; but, remember, you are still my husband, I hold a chain in my\nhand by which I can draw you back whenever I will. My power over you is\nnot, in any manner, diminished. Beware, therefore, how you venture to\ntake a wife among the people below. Should you ever do so, it is then\nthat you shall feel the force of my displeasure.\"\n\nAs she said this, her eyes sparkled--she raised herself slightly on her\ntoes, and stretched herself up, with a majestic air; and at that\nmoment, O-no-wut-a-qut-o awoke from his dream. He found himself on the\nground, near his father's lodge, at the very spot where he had laid\nhimself down to fast. Instead of the bright beings of a higher world,\nhe found himself surrounded by his parents and relatives. His mother\ntold him he had been absent a year. The change was so great, that he\nremained for some time moody and abstracted, but by degrees he\nrecovered his spirits. He began to doubt the reality of all he had\nheard and seen above. At last, he forgot the admonitions of his spouse,\nand married a beautiful young woman of his own tribe. But within four\ndays, she was a corpse. Even this fearful admonition was lost, and he\nrepeated the offence by a second marriage. Soon afterwards, he went out\nof the lodge, one night, but never returned. It was believed that his\nSun-wife had recalled him to the region of the clouds, where, the\ntradition asserts, he still dwells, and walks on the daily rounds,\nwhich he once witnessed.\n\n\n\n\nBOSH-KWA-DOSH,\n\nOR\n\nTHE MASTODON.\n\n\nThere was once a man who found himself alone in the world. He knew not\nwhence he came, nor who were his parents, and he wandered about from\nplace to place, in search of something. At last he became wearied and\nfell asleep. He dreamed that he heard a voice saying, \"Nosis,\" that is,\nmy grandchild. When he awoke, he actually heard the word repeated, and\nlooking around, he saw a tiny little animal hardly big enough to be\nseen on the plain. While doubting whether the voice could come from\nsuch a diminutive source, the little animal said to him, \"My grandson,\nyou will call me Bosh-kwa-dosh. Why are you so desolate? Listen to me,\nand you shall find friends and be happy. You must take me up and bind\nme to your body, and never put me aside, and success in life shall\nattend you.\" He obeyed the voice, sewing up the little animal in the\nfolds of a string, or narrow belt, which he tied around his body, at\nhis navel. He then set out in search of some one like himself, or other\nobject. He walked a long time in the woods without seeing man or\nanimal. He seemed all alone in the world. At length he came to a place\nwhere a stump was cut, and on going over a hill he descried a large\ntown in a plain. A wide road led through the middle of it; but what\nseemed strange was, that on one side there were no inhabitants in the\nlodges, while the other side was thickly inhabited. He walked boldly\ninto the town.\n\nThe inhabitants came out and said: \"Why here is the being we have heard\nso much of--here is Anish-in-a-ba. See his eyes, and his teeth in a\nhalf circle--see the Wyaukenawbedaid! See his bowels, how they are\nformed;\"--for it seems they could look through him. The king's son, the\nMudjekewis, was particularly kind to him, and calling him\nbrother-in-law, commanded that he should be taken to his father's lodge\nand received with attention. The king gave him one of his daughters.\nThese people (who are supposed to be human, but whose rank in the scale\nof being is left equivocal) passed much of their time in play and\nsports and trials of various, kinds. When some time had passed, and he\nbecome refreshed and rested, he was invited to join in these sports.\nThe first test which they put him to, was the trial of frost. At some\ndistance was a large body of frozen water, and the trial consisted in\nlying down naked on the ice, and seeing who could endure the longest.\nHe went out with two young men, who began, by pulling off their\ngarments, and lying down on their faces. He did likewise, only keeping\non the narrow magic belt with the tiny little animal sewed in it; for\nhe felt that in this alone was to be his reliance and preservation. His\ncompetitors laughed and tittered during the early part of the night,\nand amused themselves by thoughts of his fate. Once they called out to\nhim, but he made no reply. He felt a manifest warmth given out by his\nbelt. About midnight, finding they were still, he called out to them,\nin return, \"What!\" said he, \"are you benumbed already? I am but just\nbeginning to feel a little cold.\" All was silence. He, however, kept\nhis position till early day break, when he got up and went to them.\nThey were both quite dead, and frozen so hard, that the flesh had\nbursted out under their finger nails, and their teeth stood out. As he\nlooked more closely, what was his surprise to find them both\ntransformed into buffalo cows. He tied them together, and carried them\ntowards the village. As he came in sight, those who had wished his\ndeath were disappointed, but the Mudjekewis, who was really his friend,\nrejoiced. \"See!\" said he, \"but one person approaches--it is my\nbrother-in-law.\" He then threw down the carcasses in triumph, but it\nwas found that by their death he had restored two inhabitants to the\nbefore empty lodges, and he afterwards perceived that every one of\nthese beings, whom he killed, had the like effect, so that the\ndepopulated part of the village soon became filled with people.\n\nThe next test they put him to, was the trial of speed. He was\nchallenged to the race ground, and began his career with one whom he\nthought to be a man; but everything was enchanted here, for he soon\ndiscovered that his competitor was a large black bear. The animal\noutran him, tore up the ground, and sported before him, and put out its\nlarge claws as if to frighten him. He thought of his little guardian\nspirit in the belt, and wishing to have the swiftness of the Kakake,\n_i.e._ sparrowhawk, he found himself rising from the ground, and with\nthe speed of this bird he outwent his rival, and won the race, while\nthe bear came up exhausted and lolling out his tongue. His friend the\nMudjekewis stood ready, with his war-club, at the goal, and the moment\nthe bear came up, dispatched him. He then turned to the assembly, who\nhad wished his friend and brother's death, and after reproaching them,\nhe lifted up his club and began to slay them on every side. They fell\nin heaps on all sides; but it was plain to be seen, the moment they\nfell, that they were not men, but animals--foxes, wolves, tigers,\nlynxes, and other kinds, lay thick around the Mudjekewis.\n\nStill the villagers were not satisfied. They thought the trial of frost\nhad not been fairly accomplished, and wished it repeated. He agreed to\nrepeat it, but being fatigued with the race, he undid his guardian\nbelt, and laying it under his head, fell asleep. When he awoke, he felt\nrefreshed, and feeling strong in his own strength, he went forward to\nrenew the trial on the ice, but quite forgot the belt, nor did it at\nall occur to him when he awoke, or when he lay down to repeat the\ntrial. About midnight his limbs became stiff, the blood soon ceased to\ncirculate, and he was found in the morning a stiff corpse. The victors\ntook him up and carried him to the village, where the loudest tumult of\nvictorious joy was made, and they cut his body into a thousand pieces,\nthat each one might eat a piece.\n\nThe Mudjekewis bemoaned his fate, but his wife was inconsolable. She\nlay in a state of partial distraction, in the lodge. As she lay here,\nshe thought she heard some one groaning. It was repeated through the\nnight, and in the morning she carefully scanned the place, and running\nher fingers through the grass, she discovered the secret belt, on the\nspot where her husband had last reposed. \"Aubishin!\" cried the\nbelt--that is, untie me, or unloose me. Looking carefully, she found\nthe small seam which inclosed the tiny little animal. It cried out the\nmore earnestly, \"Aubishin!\" and when she had carefully ripped the\nseams, she beheld, to her surprise, a minute, naked little beast,\nsmaller than the smallest new-born mouse, without any vestige of hair,\nexcept at the tip of its tail; it could crawl a few inches, but reposed\nfrom fatigue. It then went forward again. At each movement it would\n_pupowee_, that is to say, shake itself like a dog, and at each shake\nit became larger. This it continued until it acquired the strength and\nsize of a middle sized dog, when it ran off.\n\nThe mysterious dog ran to the lodges, about the village, looking for\nthe bones of his friend, which he carried to a secret place, and as\nfast as he found them arranged all in their natural order. At length he\nhad formed all the skeleton complete, except the heel bone of one foot.\nIt so happened that two sisters were out of camp, according to custom,\nat the time the body was cut up, and this heel was sent out to them.\nThe dog hunted every lodge, and being satisfied that it was not to be\nfound in the camp, he sought it outside of it, and found the lodge of\nthe two sisters. The younger sister was pleased to see him, and admired\nand patted the pretty dog, but the elder sat mumbling the very\nheel-bone he was seeking, and was surly and sour, and repelled the dog,\nalthough he looked most wistfully up in her face, while she sucked the\nbone from one side of her mouth to the other. At last she held it in\nsuch a manner that it made her cheek stick out, when the dog, by a\nquick spring, seized the cheek, and tore cheek and bone away and fled.\n\nHe now completed the skeleton, and placing himself before it, uttered a\nhollow, low, long-drawn-out howl, when the bones came compactly\ntogether. He then modulated his howl, when the bones knit together and\nbecame tense. The third howl brought sinews upon them, and the fourth,\nflesh. He then turned his head upwards, looking into the sky, and gave\na howl, which caused every one in the village to startle, and the\nground itself to tremble, at which the breath entered into his body,\nand he first breathed and then arose. \"Hy kow!\" I have overslept\nmyself, he exclaimed; \"I will be too late for the trial.\" \"Trial!\" said\nBosh-kwa-dosh, \"I told you never to let me be separate from your body,\nyou have neglected this. You were defeated, and your frozen body cut\ninto a thousand pieces, and scattered over the village; but my skill\nhas restored you. Now I will declare myself to you, and show who and\nwhat I am!\"\n\nHe then began to Pupowee, or shake himself, and at every shake, he grew.\nHis body became heavy and massy, his legs thick and long, with big\nclumsy ends, or feet. He still shook himself, and rose and swelled. A\nlong snout grew from his head, and two great shining teeth out of his\nmouth. His skin remained as it was, naked, and only a tuft of hair grew\non his tail. He rose up as high as the trees. He was enormous. \"I should\nfill the earth,\" said he, \"were I to exert my utmost power, and all\nthere is on the earth would not satisfy me to eat. Neither could it\nfatten me or do me good. I should want more. The Great Spirit created me\nto show his power when there were nothing but animals on the earth. But\nwere all animals as large as myself, there would not be grass enough for\nfood. But the earth was made for man, and not for beasts. I give some of\nthose great gifts which I possess. All the animals shall be your food,\nand you are no longer to flee before them, and be their sport and food.\"\nSo saying, he walked off with heavy steps and with fierce looks, at\nwhich all the little animals trembled.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUN-CATCHER,\n\nOR\n\nBOY WHO SET A SNARE FOR THE SUN.\n\nA MYTH OF THE ORIGIN OF THE DORMOUSE.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nAt the time when the animals reigned in the earth, they had killed all\nbut a girl, and her little brother, and these two were living in fear\nand seclusion. The boy was a perfect pigmy, and never grew beyond the\nstature of a small infant, but the girl increased with her years, so\nthat the labor of providing food and lodging devolved wholly on her.\nShe went out daily to get wood for their lodge-fire, and took her\nlittle brother along that no accident might happen to him; for he was\ntoo little to leave alone. A big bird might have flown away with him.\nShe made him a bow and arrows, and said to him one day, \"I will leave\nyou behind where I have been chopping--you must hide yourself, and you\nwill soon see the Gitshee-gitshee-gaun-ia-see-ug, or snow birds, come\nand pick the worms out of the wood, where I have been chopping\" (for it\nwas in the winter). \"Shoot one of them and bring it home.\" He obeyed\nher, and tried his best to kill one, but came home unsuccessful. She\ntold him he must not despair, but try again the next day. She\naccordingly left him at the place she got wood, and returned. Towards\nnightfall, she heard his little footsteps on the snow, and he came in\nexultingly, and threw down one of the birds which he had killed. \"My\nsister,\" said he, \"I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when\nI have killed more, I will have a coat made out of them.\" \"But what\nshall we do with the body?\" said she, for as yet men had not begun to\neat animal food, but lived on vegetables alone. \"Cut it in two,\" he\nanswered, \"and season our pottage with one half of it at a time.\" She\ndid so. The boy, who was of a very small stature, continued his\nefforts, and succeeded in killing ten birds, out of the skins of which\nhis sister made him a little coat.\n\n\"Sister,\" said he one day, \"are we all alone in the world? Is there\nnobody else living?\" She told him that those they feared and who had\ndestroyed their relatives lived in a certain quarter, and that he must\nby no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his\ncuriosity and raise his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and\narrows and went in that direction. After walking a long time and\nmeeting nothing, he became tired, and lay down on a knoll, where the\nsun had melted the snow. He fell fast asleep; and while sleeping, the\nsun beat so hot upon him, that it singed and drew up his bird-skin\ncoat, so that when he awoke and stretched himself, he felt bound in it,\nas it were. He looked down and saw the damage done to his coat. He flew\ninto a passion, and upbraided the sun, and vowed vengeance against it.\n\"Do not think you are too high,\" said he, \"I shall revenge myself.\"\n\nOn coming home, he related his disaster to his sister, and lamented\nbitterly the spoiling of his coat. He would not eat. He lay down as one\nthat fasts, and, did not stir, or move his position for ten days,\nthough she tried all she could to arouse him. At the end of ten days,\nhe turned over, and then lay ten days on the other side. When he got\nup, he told his sister to make him a snare, for he meant to catch the\nsun. She said she had nothing; but finally recollected a little piece\nof dried deer's sinew, that her father had left, which she soon made\ninto a string suitable for a noose. But the moment she showed it to\nhim, he told her it would not do, and bid her get something else. She\nsaid she had nothing--nothing at all. At last she thought of her hair,\nand pulling some of it out of her head, made a string. But he instantly\nsaid it would not answer, and bid her, pettishly, and with authority,\nmake him a noose. She told him there was nothing to make it of, and\nwent out of the lodge. She said to herself, when she had got without\nthe lodge, and while she was all alone, \"neow obewy indapin.\" From my\nbody, some sinews will I take. This she did, and twisting them into a\ntiny cord, she handed it to her brother. The moment he saw this curious\nbraid, he was delighted. \"This will do,\" he said, and immediately put\nit to his mouth and began pulling it through his lips; and as fast as\nhe drew it changed it into a red metal cord, which he wound around his\nbody and shoulders, till he had a large quantity. He then prepared\nhimself, and set out a little after midnight, that he might catch the\nsun before it rose. He fixed his snare on a spot just where the sun\nwould strike the land, as it rose above the earth's disk; and sure\nenough, he caught the sun, so that it was held fast in the cord, and\ndid not rise.\n\nThe animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into a great\ncommotion. They had no light. They called a council to debate upon the\nmatter, and to appoint some one to go and cut the cord--for this was a\nvery hazardous enterprise, as the rays of the sun would burn whoever\ncame so near to them. At last the dormouse undertook it--for at this\ntime the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When it stood up\nit looked like a mountain. When it got to the place where the sun was\nsnared, its back began to smoke and burn with the intensity of the\nheat, and the top of its carcass was reduced to enormous heaps of\nashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with its teeth, and\nfreeing the sun, but it was reduced to a very small size, and has\nremained so ever since. Men call it the Kug-e-been-gwa-kwa--the blind\nwoman.\n\n\n\n\nWA-WA-BE-ZO-WIN,\n\nOR\n\nTHE SWING ON THE PICTURED ROCKS OF LAKE SUPERIOR.\n\nA TRADITION OF THE ODJIBWAS.\n\n\nThere was an old hag of a woman living with her daughter-in-law, and\nson, and a little orphan boy, whom she was bringing up. When her\nson-in-law came home from hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife\nthe moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of\ndifferent animals. These she would cook crisp, so as to make a sound\nwith her teeth in eating them. This kind attention of the hunter to his\nwife at last excited the envy of the old woman. She wished to have the\nsame luxuries, and in order to get them she finally resolved to make\nway with her son's wife. One day, she asked her to leave her infant son\nto the care of the orphan boy, and come out and swing with her. She\ntook her to the shore of a lake, where there was a high range of rocks\noverhanging the water. Upon the top of this rock, she erected a swing.\nShe then undressed, and fastened a piece of leather around her body,\nand commenced swinging, going over the precipice at every swing. She\ncontinued it but a short time, when she told her daughter to do the\nsame. The daughter obeyed. She undressed, and tying the leather string\nas she was directed, began swinging. When the swing had got in full\nmotion and well a-going, so that it went clear beyond the precipice at\nevery sweep, the old woman slyly cut the cords and let her daughter\ndrop into the lake. She then put on her daughter's clothing, and thus\ndisguised went home in the dusk of the evening and counterfeited her\nappearance and duties. She found the child crying, and gave it the\nbreast, but it would not draw. The orphan boy asked her where its\nmother was. She answered, \"She is still swinging.\" He said, \"I shall go\nand look for her.\" \"No!\" said she, \"you must not--what should you go\nfor?\" When the husband came in, in the evening, he gave the coveted\nmorsel to his supposed wife. He missed his mother-in-law, but said\nnothing. She eagerly ate the dainty, and tried to keep the child still.\nThe husband looked rather astonished to see his wife studiously\naverting her face, and asked her why the child cried so. She said, she\ndid not know--that it would not draw.\n\nIn the mean time, the orphan boy went to the lake shores, and found no\none. He mentioned his suspicions, and while the old woman was out\ngetting wood, he told him all he had heard or seen. The man then\npainted his face black, and placed his spear upside down in the earth,\nand requested the Great Spirit to send lightning, thunder, and rain, in\nthe hope that the body of his wife might arise from the water. He then\nbegan to fast, and told the boy to take the child and play on the lake\nshore.\n\nWe must now go back to the swing. After the wife had plunged into the\nlake, she found herself taken hold of by a water-tiger, whose tail\ntwisted itself round her body, and drew her to the bottom. There she\nfound a fine lodge, and all things ready for her reception, and she\nbecame the wife of the water-tiger. Whilst the children were playing\nalong the shore, and the boy was casting pebbles into the lake, he saw\na gull coming from its centre, and flying towards the shore, and when\non shore, the bird immediately assumed the human shape. When he looked\nagain, he recognized the lost mother. She had a leather belt around her\nloins, and another belt of white metal, which was, in reality, the tail\nof the water-tiger, her husband. She suckled the babe, and said to the\nboy--\"Come here with him, whenever he cries, and I will nurse him.\"\n\nThe boy carried the child home, and told these things to the father.\nWhen the child again cried, the father went also with the boy to the\nlake shore, and hid himself in a clump of trees. Soon the appearance of\na gull was seen, with a long shining belt, or chain, and as soon as it\ncame to the shore, it assumed the mother's shape, and she began to\nsuckle the child. The husband had brought along his spear, and seeing\nthe shining chain, he boldly struck it and broke the links apart. He\nthen took his wife and child home, with the orphan boy. When they\nentered the lodge, the old woman looked up, but it was a look of\ndespair; she instantly dropped her head. A rustling was heard in the\nlodge, and the next moment she leaped up and flew out of the lodge, and\nwas never heard of more.\n\n\n\n\nMUKAKEE MINDEMOEA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE TOAD-WOMAN.\n\nAN ODJIBWA LEGEND.\n\n\nGreat good luck once happened to a young woman who was living all alone\nin the woods, with nobody near her but her little dog, for, to her\nsurprise, she found fresh meat every morning at her door. She felt very\nanxious to know who it was that supplied her, and watching one morning,\nvery early, she saw a handsome young man deposit the meat. After his\nbeing seen by her, he became her husband, and she had a son by him. One\nday, not long after this, the man did not return at evening, as usual,\nfrom hunting. She waited till late at night, but all in vain. Next day\nshe swung her baby to sleep in its tikenagun, or cradle, and then said\nto her dog: \"Take care of your brother whilst I am gone, and when he\ncries, halloo for me.\" The cradle was made of the finest wampum, and\nall its bandages and decorations were of the same costly material.\nAfter a short time, the woman heard the cry of her faithful dog, and\nrunning home as fast as she could, she found her child gone and the dog\ntoo. But on looking round, she saw pieces of the wampum of her child's\ncradle bit off by the dog, who strove to retain the child and prevent\nhis being carried off by an old woman called Mukakee Mindemoea, or the\nToad-Woman. The mother followed at full speed, and occasionally came to\nlodges inhabited by old women, who told her at what time the thief had\npassed; they also gave her shoes, that she might follow on. There were\na number of these old women, who seemed as if they were all\nprophetesses. Each of them would say to her, that when she arrived in\npursuit of her stolen child at the next lodge, she must set the toes of\nthe moccasins they had loaned her pointing homewards, and they would\nreturn of themselves. She would get others from her entertainers\nfurther on, who would also give her directions how to proceed to\nrecover her son. She thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to\nvalley, and stream to stream, for months and years; when she came, at\nlength, to the lodge of the last of the friendly old Nocoes, or\ngrandmothers, as they were called, who gave her final instructions how\nto proceed. She told her she was near the place where her son was, and\ndirected her to build a lodge of shin-goob, or cedar boughs, near the\nold Toad-Woman's lodge, and to make a little bark dish and squeeze her\nmilk into it. \"Then,\" she said, \"your first child (meaning the dog)\nwill come and find you out.\" She did accordingly, and in a short time\nshe heard her son, now grown, going out to hunt, with his dog, calling\nout to him, \"Monedo Pewaubik (that is, Steel or Spirit Iron), Twee!\nTwee!\" She then set ready the dish and filled it with her milk. The dog\nsoon scented it and came into the lodge; she placed it before him.\n\"See, my child,\" said she, addressing him, \"the food you used to have\nfrom me, your mother.\" The dog went and told his young master that he\nhad found his _real_ mother; and informed him that the old woman, whom\nhe _called_ his mother, was not his mother, that she had stolen him\nwhen an infant in his cradle, and that he had himself followed her in\nhopes of getting him back. The young man and his dog then went on their\nhunting excursion, and brought back a great quantity of meat of all\nkinds. He said to his pretended mother, as he laid it down, \"Send some\nto the stranger that has arrived lately.\" The old hag answered, \"No!\nwhy should I send to her--the Sheegowish.\"[85] He insisted; and she at\nlast consented to take something, throwing it in at the door, with the\nremark, \"My son gives you, or feeds you this.\" But it was of such on\noffensive nature that she threw it immediately out after her.\n\nAfter this the young man paid the stranger a visit, at her lodge of\ncedar boughs, and partook of her dish of milk. She then told him she\nwas his real mother, and that he had been stolen away from her by the\ndetestable Toad-Woman, who was a witch. He was not quite convinced. She\nsaid to him, \"Feign yourself sick, when you go home, and when the\nToad-Woman asks what ails you, say that you want to see your cradle;\nfor your cradle was of wampum, and your faithful brother, the dog, bit\na piece off to try and detain you, which I picked up, as I followed in\nyour track. They were real wampum, white and blue, shining and\nbeautiful.\" She then showed him the pieces. He went home and did as his\nreal mother bid him. \"Mother,\" said he, \"why am I so different in my\nlooks from the rest of your children?\" \"Oh,\" said she, \"it was a very\nbright clear blue sky when you were born; that is the reason.\" When the\nToad-Woman saw he was ill, she asked what she could do for him. He said\nnothing would do him good, but the sight of his cradle. She ran\nimmediately and got a cedar cradle; but he said \"That is not my\ncradle.\" She went and got one of her own children's cradles (for she\nhad four), but he turned his head and said, \"That is not mine.\" She\nthen produced the real cradle, and he saw it was the same, in\nsubstance, with the pieces the other had shown him; and he was\nconvinced, for he could even see the marks of the dog's teeth upon it.\n\nHe soon got well, and went out hunting, and killed a fat bear. He and\nhis dog-brother then stripped a tall pine of all its branches, and\nstuck the carcass on the top, taking the usual sign of his having\nkilled an animal--the tongue. He told the Toad-Woman where he had left\nit, saying, \"It is very far, even to the end of the earth.\" She\nanswered, \"It is not so far but I can get it;\" so off she set. As soon\nas she was gone, the young man and his dog killed the Toad-Woman's\nchildren, and staked them on each side of the door, with a piece of fat\nin their mouths, and then went to his real mother and hastened her\ndeparture with them. The Toad-Woman spent a long time in finding the\nbear, and had much ado in climbing the tree to get down the carcass. As\nshe got near home, she saw the children looking out, apparently, with\nthe fat in their mouths, and was angry at them, saying, \"Why do you\ndestroy the pomatum of your brother?\" But her fury was great indeed,\nwhen she saw they were killed and impaled. She ran after the fugitives\nas fast as she could, and was near overtaking them, when the young man\nsaid, \"We are pressed hard, but let this stay her progress,\" throwing\nhis fire steel behind him, which caused the Toad-Woman to slip and fall\nrepeatedly. But still she pursued and gained on them, when he threw\nbehind him his flint, which again retarded her, for it made her slip\nand stumble, so that her knees were bleeding; but she continued to\nfollow on, and was gaining ground, when the young man said, \"Let the\nOshau shaw go min un (snake berry) spring up to detain her,\" and\nimmediately these berries spread like scarlet all over the path for a\nlong distance, which she could not avoid stooping down to pick and eat.\nStill she went on, and was again advancing on them, when the young man\nat last said to the dog, \"Brother, chew her into mummy, for she plagues\nus.\" So the dog, turning round, seized her and tore her to pieces, and\nthey escaped.\n\n      [85] A term compounded from _sheegowiss_, a widow, and _mowigh_,\n      something nasty.\n\n\n\n\nERONENIERA,\n\nOR\n\nAN INDIAN VISIT TO THE GREAT SPIRIT.[86]\n\nAN ALGONQUIN LEGEND.\n\n\nA Delaware Indian, called Eroneniera, anxious to know the Master of\nLife, resolved, without mentioning his design to any one, to undertake\na journey to Paradise, which he knew to be God's residence. But, to\nsucceed in his project, it was necessary for him to know the way to the\ncelestial regions. Not knowing any person who, having been there\nhimself, might aid him in finding the road, he commenced juggling, in\nthe hope of drawing a good augury from his dream.\n\nThe Indian, in his dream, imagined that he had only to commence his\njourney, and that a continued walk would take him to the celestial\nabode. The next morning very early, he equipped himself as a hunter,\ntaking a gun, powder-horn, ammunition, and a boiler to cook his\nprovisions. The first part of his journey was pretty favorable; he\nwalked a long time without being discouraged, having always a firm\nconviction that he should attain his aim. Eight days had already\nelapsed without his meeting with any one to oppose his desire. On the\nevening of the eighth day, at sunset, he stopped as usual on the bank\nof a brook, at the entrance of a little prairie, a place which he\nthought favorable for his night's encampment. As he was preparing his\nlodging, he perceived at the other end of the prairie three very wide\nand well-beaten paths; he thought this somewhat singular; he, however,\ncontinued to prepare his wigwam, that he might shelter himself from the\nweather. He also lighted a fire. While cooking, he found that, the\ndarker it grew, the more distinct were those paths. This surprised,\nnay, even frightened him; he hesitated a few moments. Was it better for\nhim to remain in his camp, or seek another at some distance? While in\nthis incertitude, he remembered his juggling, or rather his dream. He\nthought that his only aim in undertaking his journey was to see the\nMaster of Life. This restored him to his senses. He thought it probable\nthat one of those three roads led to the place which he wished to\nvisit. He therefore resolved upon remaining in his camp until the\nmorrow, when he would, at random, take one of them. His curiosity,\nhowever, scarcely allowed him time to take his meal; he left his\nencampment and fire, and took the widest of the paths. He followed it\nuntil the middle of the day without seeing anything to impede his\nprogress; but, as he was resting a little to take breath, he suddenly\nperceived a large fire coming from under ground. It excited his\ncuriosity; he went towards it to see what it might be; but, as the fire\nappeared to increase as he drew nearer, he was so overcome with fear,\nthat he turned back and took the widest of the other two paths. Having\nfollowed it for the same space of time as he had the first, he\nperceived a similar spectacle. His fright, which had been lulled by the\nchange of road, awoke him, and he was obliged to take the third path,\nin which he walked a whole day without seeing anything. All at once, a\nmountain of a marvellous whiteness burst upon his sight. This filled\nhim with astonishment; nevertheless, he took courage and advanced to\nexamine it. Having arrived at the foot, he saw no signs of a road. He\nbecame very sad, not knowing how to continue his journey. In this\nconjuncture, he looked on all sides and perceived a female seated upon\nthe mountain; her beauty was dazzling, and the whiteness of her\ngarments surpassed that of snow. The woman said to him in his own\nlanguage, \"You appear surprised to find no longer a path to reach your\nwishes. I know that you have for a long time longed to see and speak to\nthe Master of Life; and that you have undertaken this journey purposely\nto see him. The way which leads to his abode is upon this mountain. To\nascend it, you must undress yourself completely, and leave all your\naccoutrements and clothing at the foot. No person shall injure them.\nYou will then go and wash yourself in the river which I am now showing\nyou, and afterward ascend the mountain.\"\n\nThe Indian obeyed punctually the woman's words; but one difficulty\nremained. How could he arrive at the top of the mountain, which was\nsteep, without a path, and as smooth as glass? He asked the woman how\nhe was to accomplish it. She replied, that if he really wished to see\nthe Master of Life, he must, in mounting, only use his left hand and\nfoot. This appeared almost impossible to the Indian. Encouraged,\nhowever, by the female, he commenced ascending, and succeeded after\nmuch trouble. When at the top, he was astonished to see no person, the\nwoman having disappeared. He found himself alone, and without a guide.\nThree unknown villages were in sight; they were constructed on a\ndifferent plan from his own, much handsomer, and more regular. After a\nfew moments' reflection, he took his way towards the handsomest. When\nabout half way from the top of the mountain, he recollected that he was\nnaked, and was afraid to proceed; but a voice told him to advance, and\nhave no apprehensions; that, as he had washed himself, he might walk in\nconfidence. He proceeded without hesitation to a place which appeared\nto be the gate of the village, and stopped until some one came to open\nit. While he was considering the exterior of the village, the gate\nopened, and the Indian saw coming towards him a handsome man dressed\nall in white, who took him by the hand, and said he was going to\nsatisfy his wishes by leading him to the presence of the Master of\nLife.\n\nThe Indian suffered himself to be conducted, and they arrived at a\nplace of unequalled beauty. The Indian was lost in admiration. He there\nsaw the Master of Life, who took him by the hand, and gave him for a\nseat a hat bordered with gold. The Indian, afraid of spoiling the hat,\nhesitated to sit down; but, being again ordered to do so, he obeyed\nwithout reply.\n\nThe Indian being seated, God said to him, \"I am the Master of Life,\nwhom thou wishest to see, and to whom thou wishest to speak. Listen to\nthat which I will tell thee for thyself and for all the Indians. I am\nthe Maker of Heaven and earth, the trees, lakes, rivers, men, and all\nthat thou seest or hast seen on the earth or in the heavens; and\nbecause I love you, you must do my will; you must also avoid that which\nI hate; I hate you to drink as you do, until you lose your reason; I\nwish you not to fight one another; you take two wives, or run after\nother people's wives; you do wrong; I hate such conduct; you should\nhave but one wife, and keep her until death. When you go to war, you\njuggle, you sing the medicine song, thinking you speak to me; you\ndeceive yourselves; it is to the Manito that you speak; he is a wicked\nspirit who induces you to evil, and for want of knowing me, you listen\nto him.\n\n\"The land on which you are, I have made for you, not for others:\nwherefore do you suffer the whites to dwell upon your lands? Can you\nnot do without them? I know that those whom you call the children of\nyour great Father supply your wants. But, were you not wicked as you\nare, you would not need them. You might live as you did before you knew\nthem. Before those whom you call your brothers had arrived, did not\nyour bow and arrow maintain you? You needed neither gun, powder, nor\nany other object. The flesh of animals was your food, their skins your\nraiment. But when I saw you inclined to evil, I removed the animals\ninto the depths of the forests, that you might depend on your brothers\nfor your necessaries for your clothing. Again become good and do my\nwill, and I will send animals for your sustenance. I do not, however,\nforbid suffering among you your Father's children; I love them, they\nknow me, they pray to me; I supply their own wants, and give them that\nwhich they bring to you. Not so with those who are come to trouble your\npossessions. Drive them away; wage war against them. I love them not.\nThey know me not. They are my enemies, they are your brothers' enemies.\nSend them back to the lands I have made for them. Let them remain\nthere.\n\n\"Here is a written prayer which I give thee; learn it by heart, and\nteach it to all the Indians and children.\" (The Indian, observing here\nthat he could not read, the Master of Life told him that, on his return\nupon earth, he should give it to the chief of his village, who would\nread it, and also teach it to him, as also to all the Indians). \"It must\nbe repeated,\" said the Master of Life, \"morning and evening. Do all that\nI have told thee, and announce it to all the Indians as coming from the\nMaster of Life. Let them drink but one draught, or two at most, in one\nday. Let them have but one wife, and discontinue running after other\npeople's wives and daughters. Let them not fight one another. Let them\nnot sing the medicine song, for in singing the medicine song they speak\nto the evil spirit. Drive from your lands,\" added the Master of Life,\n\"those dogs in red clothing; they are only an injury to you. When you\nwant anything, apply to me, as your brothers do, and I will give to\nboth. Do not sell to your brothers that which I have placed on the earth\nas food. In short, become good, and you shall want nothing. When you\nmeet one another, bow, and give one another the ... hand of the heart.\nAbove all, I command thee to repeat, morning and evening, the prayer\nwhich I have given thee.\"\n\nThe Indian promised to do the will of the Master of Life, and also to\nrecommend it strongly to the Indians; adding that the Master of Life\nshould be satisfied with them.\n\nHis conductor then came, and leading him to the foot of the mountain,\ntold him to take his garments and return to his village; which was\nimmediately done by the Indian.\n\nHis return much surprised the inhabitants of the village, who did not\nknow what had become of him. They asked him whence he came; but, as he\nhad been enjoined to speak to no one until he saw the chief of the\nvillage, he motioned to them with his hand that he came from above.\nHaving entered the village, he went immediately to the chief's wigwam,\nand delivered to him the prayer and laws intrusted to his care by the\nMaster of Life.\n\n      [86] Pontiac told this story to the assembled Indians in 1763, to\n      enlist them in his plan to resist the transfer of the country to\n      the English authority, on the fall of the French power in the\n      Canadas.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIX HAWKS,\n\nOR\n\nBROKEN WING.\n\nAN ALLEGORY OF FRATERNAL AFFECTION.\n\n\nThere were six young falcons living in a nest, all but one of whom were\nstill unable to fly, when it so happened that both the parent birds\nwere shot by the hunters in one day. The young brood waited with\nimpatience for their return; but night came, and they were left without\nparents and without food. Meeji-geeg-wona, or the Gray Eagle, the\neldest, and the only one whose feathers had become stout enough to\nenable him to leave the nest, assumed the duty of stilling their cries\nand providing them with food, in which he was very successful. But,\nafter a short time had passed, he, by an unlucky mischance, got one of\nhis wings broken in pouncing upon a swan. This was the more unlucky,\nbecause the season had arrived when they were soon to go off to a\nsouthern climate to pass the winter, and they were only waiting to\nbecome a little stouter and more expert for the journey. Finding that\nhe did not return, they resolved to go in search of him, and found him\nsorely wounded and unable to fly.\n\n\"Brothers,\" he said, \"an accident has befallen me, but let not this\nprevent your going to a warmer climate. Winter is rapidly approaching,\nand you cannot remain here. It is better that I alone should die than\nfor you all to suffer miserably on my account.\" \"No! no!\" they replied,\nwith one voice, \"we will not forsake you; we will share your\nsufferings; we will abandon our journey, and take care of you, as you\ndid of us, before we were able to take care of ourselves. If the\nclimate kills you, it shall kill us. Do you think we can so soon forget\nyour brotherly care, which has surpassed a father's and even a mother's\nkindness? Whether you live or die, we will live or die with you.\"\n\nThey sought out a hollow tree to winter in, and contrived to carry\ntheir wounded nestmate there; and, before the rigors of winter set in,\nthey had stored up food enough to carry them through its severities. To\nmake it last the better, two of the number went off south, leaving the\nother three to watch over, feed, and protect the wounded bird.\nMeeji-geeg-wona in due time recovered from his wound, and he repaid\ntheir kindness by giving them such advice and instruction in the art of\nhunting as his experience had qualified him to impart. As spring\nadvanced, they began to venture out of their hiding-place, and were all\nsuccessful in getting food to eke out their winter's stock, except the\nyoungest, who was called Peepi-geewi-zains, or the Pigeon Hawk. Being\nsmall and foolish, flying hither and yon, he always came back without\nanything. At last the Gray Eagle spoke to him, and demanded the cause\nof his ill luck. \"It is not my smallness or weakness of body,\" said he,\n\"that prevents my bringing home flesh as well as my brothers. I kill\nducks and other birds every time I go out; but, just as I get to the\nwoods, a large Ko-ko-ko-ho[87] robs me of my prey.\" \"Well! don't\ndespair, brother,\" said Meeji-geeg-wona. \"I now feel my strength\nperfectly recovered, and I will go out with you to-morrow,\" for he was\nthe most courageous and warlike of them all.\n\nNext day they went forth in company, the elder seating himself near the\nlake. Peepi-geewi-zains started out, and soon pounced upon a duck.\n\n\"Well done!\" thought his brother, who saw his success; but, just as he\nwas getting to land with his prize, up came a large white owl from a\ntree, where he had been watching, and laid claim to it. He was about\nwresting it from him, when Meeji-geeg-wona came up, and, fixing his\ntalons in both sides of the owl, flew home with him.\n\nThe little pigeon hawk followed him closely, and was rejoiced and happy\nto think he had brought home something at last. He then flew in the\nowl's face, and wanted to tear out his eyes, and vented his passion in\nabundance of reproachful terms. \"Softly,\" said the Gray Eagle; \"do not\nbe in such a passion, or exhibit so revengeful a disposition; for this\nwill be a lesson to him not to tyrannize over any one who is weaker\nthan himself for the future.\" So, after giving him good advice, and\ntelling him what kind of herbs would cure his wounds, they let the owl\ngo.\n\nWhile this act was taking place, and before the liberated owl had yet\ngot out of view, two visitors appeared at the hollow tree. They were\nthe two nestmates, who had just returned from the south after passing\nthe winter there, and they were thus all happily reunited, and each one\nsoon chose a mate and flew off to the woods. Spring had now revisited\nthe north. The cold winds had ceased, the ice had melted, the streams\nwere open, and the forest began rapidly to put on its vernal hue. \"But\nit is in vain,\" said the old man who related this story, \"it is in vain\nthat spring returns, if we are not thankful to the Master of Life who\nhas preserved us through the winter. Nor does that man answer the end\nfor which he was made who does not show a kind and charitable feeling\nto all who are in want or sickness, especially to his blood relations.\nThese six birds only represent one of our impoverished northern\nfamilies of children, who had been deprived of both their parents and\nthe aid of their elder brother nearly at the same time.\"\n\n      [87] Owl.\n\n\n\n\nWEENG,\n\nTHE SPIRIT OF SLEEP.\n\n\nSleep is personified by the Odjibwas under the name of Weeng.[88] The\npower of the Indian Morpheus is executed by a peculiar class of\ngnome-like beings, called _Weengs_. These subordinate creations,\nalthough invisible to the human eye, are each armed with a tiny\nwar-club, or puggamaugun, with which they nimbly climb up the forehead,\nand knock the drowsy person on the head; on which sleepiness is\nimmediately produced. If the first blow is insufficient, another is\ngiven, until the eyelids close, and a sound sleep is produced. It is\nthe constant duty of these little agents to put every one to sleep whom\nthey encounter--men, women, and children. And they are found secreted\naround the bed, or on small protuberances of the bark of the Indian\nlodges. They hide themselves in the Gushkeepitau-gun, or smoking pouch\nof the hunter, and when he sits down to light his pipe in the woods,\nare ready to fly out and exert their sleep-compelling power. If they\nsucceed, the game is suffered to pass, and the hunter obliged to return\nto his lodge without a reward.\n\nIn general, however, they are represented to possess friendly\ndispositions, seeking constantly to restore vigor and elasticity to the\nexhausted body. But being without judgment, their power is sometimes\nexerted at the hazard of reputation, or even life. Sleep may be induced\nin a person carelessly floating in his canoe, above a fall; or in a war\nparty, on the borders of an enemy's country; or in a female, without\nthe protection of the lodge circle. Although their peculiar season of\naction is in the night, they are also alert during the day.\n\nWhile the forms of these gnomes are believed to be those of _ininees_,\nlittle or fairy men, the figure of Weeng himself is unknown, and it is\nnot certain that he has ever been seen. Most of what is known on this\nsubject, is derived from Iagoo, who related, that going out one day\nwith his dogs to hunt, he passed through a wide range of thicket, where\nhe lost his dogs. He became much alarmed, for they were faithful\nanimals, and he was greatly attached to them. He called out, and made\nevery exertion to recover them in vain. At length he came to a spot\nwhere he found them asleep, having incautiously ran near the residence\nof Weeng. After great exertions he aroused them, but not without having\nfelt the power of somnolency himself. As he cast his eyes up from the\nplace where the dogs were lying, he saw the Spirit of Sleep sitting\nupon the branch of a tree. He was in the shape of a giant insect, or\n_monetos_, with many wings from his back, which made a low deep\nmurmuring sound, like distant falling water. But Iagoo himself, being a\nvery great liar and braggart, but little credit was given to his\nnarration.\n\nWeeng is not only the dispenser of sleep, but, it seems, he is also the\nauthor of dulness, which renders the word susceptible of an ironical\nuse. If an orator fails, he is said to be struck by Weeng. If a warrior\n_lingers_, he has ventured too near the sleepy god. If children begin\nto nod or yawn, the Indian mother looks up smilingly, and says, \"They\nhave been struck by Weeng,\" and puts them to bed.\n\n      [88] This word has the sound of _g_ hard, with a peculiarity as\n      if followed by _k_.\n\n\n\n\nADDIK KUM MAIG,[89]\n\nOR\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF THE WHITE FISH.\n\n\nA long time ago, there lived a famous hunter in a remote part of the\nnorth. He had a handsome wife and two sons, who were left in the lodge\nevery day, while he went out in quest of the animals, upon whose flesh\nthey subsisted. Game was very abundant in those days, and his exertions\nin the chase were well rewarded. The skins of animals furnished them\nwith clothing, and their flesh with food. They lived a long distance\nfrom any other lodge, and very seldom saw any one. The two sons were\nstill too young to follow their father to the chase, and usually\ndiverted themselves within a short distance of the lodge. They noticed\nthat a young man visited the lodge during their father's absence, and\nthese visits were frequently repeated. At length the elder of the two\nsaid to his mother:\n\n\"My mother, who is this tall young man that comes here so often during\nour father's absence? Does he wish to see him? Shall I tell him when he\ncomes back this evening?\" \"Bad boy,\" said the mother, pettishly, \"mind\nyour bow and arrows, and do not be afraid to enter the forest in search\nof birds and squirrels, with your little brother. It is not manly to be\never about the lodge. Nor will you become a warrior if you tell all the\nlittle things you see and hear to your father. Say not a word to him on\nthe subject.\" The boys obeyed, but as they grew older, and still saw\nthe visits of this mysterious stranger, they resolved to speak again to\ntheir mother, and told her that they meant to inform their father of\nall they had observed, for they frequently saw this young man passing\nthrough the woods, and he did not walk in the path, nor did he carry\nanything to eat. If he had any message to deliver, they had observed\nthat messages were always addressed to the men, and not to the women.\nAt this, the mother flew into a rage. \"I will kill you,\" said she, \"if\nyou speak of it.\" They were again intimidated to hold their peace. But\nobserving the continuance of an improper intercourse, kept up by\nstealth, as it were, they resolved at last to disclose the whole matter\nto their father. They did so. The result was such as might have been\nanticipated. The father, being satisfied of the infidelity of his wife,\nwatched a suitable occasion, when she was separated from the children,\nthat they might not have their feelings excited, and with a single blow\nof his war-club dispatched her. He then buried her under the ashes of\nhis fire, took down the lodge, and removed, with his two sons, to a\ndistant position.\n\nBut the spirit of the woman haunted the children, who were now grown up\nto the estate of young men. She appeared to them as they returned from\nhunting in the evening. They were also terrified in their dreams, which\nthey attributed to her. She harassed their imaginations wherever they\nwent. Life became a scene of perpetual terrors. They resolved, together\nwith their father, to leave the country, and commenced a journey toward\nthe south. After travelling many days along the shores of Lake Superior,\nthey passed around a high promontory of rock where a large river issued\nout of the lake, and soon after came to a place called Pauwateeg.[90]\n\nThey had no sooner come in sight of these falls, than they beheld the\nskull of the woman rolling along the beach. They were in the utmost\nfear, and knew not how to elude her. At this moment one of them looked\nout, and saw a stately crane sitting on a rock in the middle of the\nrapids. They called out to the bird, \"See, grandfather, we are\npersecuted by a spirit. Come and take us across the falls, so that we\nmay escape her.\"\n\nThis crane was a bird of extraordinary size and great age. When first\ndescried by the two sons, he sat in a state of stupor, in the midst of\nthe most violent eddies. When he heard himself addressed, he stretched\nforth his neck with great deliberation, and lifting himself by his\nwings, flew across to their assistance. \"Be careful,\" said the crane,\n\"that you do not touch the back part of my head. It is sore, and should\nyou press against it, I shall not be able to avoid throwing you both\ninto the rapids.\" They were, however, attentive on this point, and were\nsafely landed on the south shore of the river.\n\nThe crane then resumed his former position in the rapids. But the skull\nnow cried out, \"Come, my grandfather, and carry me over, for I have\nlost my children, and am sorely distressed.\" The aged bird flew to her\nassistance. He carefully repeated the injunction that she must by no\nmeans touch the back part of his head, which had been hurt, and was not\nyet healed. She promised to obey, but soon felt a curiosity to know\nwhere the head of her carrier had been hurt, and how so aged a bird\ncould have received so bad a wound. She thought it strange, and before\nthey were half way over the rapids, could not resist the inclination\nshe felt to touch the affected part. Instantly the crane threw her into\nthe rapids. \"There,\" said he, \"you have been of no use during your\nlife, you shall now be changed into something for the benefit of your\npeople, and it shall be called Addik Kum Maig.\" As the skull floated\nfrom rock to rock, the brains were strewed in the water, in a form\nresembling roes, which soon assumed the shape of a new species of fish,\npossessing a whiteness of color, and peculiar flavor, which have caused\nit, ever since, to be in great repute with the Indians.\n\nThe family of this man, in gratitude for their deliverance, adopted the\ncrane as their totem, or ancestral mark; and this continues to be the\ndistinguishing tribal sign of the band to this day.\n\n      [89] This term appears to be a derivative from Addik, the\n      reindeer, and the plural form of the generic Gumee, water,\n      implying deer of the water.\n\n      [90] Saut Ste. Marie.\n\n\n\n\nBOKWEWA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE HUMPBACK MAGICIAN.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nBokwewa and his brother lived in a secluded part of the country. They\nwere considered as Manitoes, who had assumed mortal shapes. Bokwewa was\nthe most gifted in supernatural endowments, although he was deformed in\nperson. His brother partook more of the nature of the present race of\nbeings. They lived retired from the world, and undisturbed by its\ncares, and passed their time in contentment and happiness.\n\nBokwewa,[91] owing to his deformity, was very domestic in his habits,\nand gave his attention to household affairs. He instructed his brother\nin the manner of pursuing game, and made him acquainted with all the\naccomplishments of a sagacious and expert hunter. His brother possessed\na fine form, and an active and robust constitution; and felt a\ndisposition to show himself off among men. He was restive in his\nseclusion, and showed a fondness for visiting remote places.\n\nOne day he told his brother that he was going to leave him; that he\nwished to visit the habitations of men and procure a wife. Bokwewa\nobjected to his going; but his brother overruled all that he said, and\nhe finally departed on his travels. He travelled a long time. At length\nhe fell in with the footsteps of men. They were moving by encampments,\nfor he saw several places where they had encamped. It was in the\nwinter. He came to a place where one of their number had died. They had\nplaced the corpse on a scaffold. He went to it and took it down. He saw\nthat it was the corpse of a beautiful young woman. \"She shall be my\nwife!\" he exclaimed.\n\nHe took her up, and placing her on his back, returned to his brother.\n\"Brother,\" he said, \"cannot you restore her to life? Oh, do me that\nfavor!\" Bokwewa said he would try. He performed numerous ceremonies,\nand at last succeeded in restoring her to life. They lived very happily\nfor some time. Bokwewa was extremely kind to his brother, and did\neverything to render his life happy. Being deformed and crippled, he\nalways remained at home, while his brother went out to hunt. And it was\nby following his directions, which were those of a skilful hunter, that\nhe always succeeded in returning with a good store of meat.\n\nOne day he had gone out as usual, and Bokwewa was sitting in his lodge,\non the opposite side of his brother's wife, when a tall, fine young man\nentered, and immediately took the woman by the hand and drew her to the\ndoor. She resisted and called on Bokwewa, who jumped up to her\nassistance. But their joint resistance was unavailing; the man\nsucceeded in carrying her away. In the scuffle, Bokwewa had his hump\nback much bruised on the stones near the door. He crawled into the\nlodge and wept very sorely, for he knew that it was a powerful Manito\nwho had taken the woman.\n\nWhen his brother returned, he related all to him exactly as it\nhappened. He would not taste food for several days. Sometimes he would\nfall to weeping for a long time, and appeared almost beside himself. At\nlast he said he would go in search of her. Bokwewa tried to dissuade\nhim from it, but he insisted.\n\n\"Well!\" said he, \"since you are bent on going, listen to my advice. You\nwill have to go south. It is a long distance to the residence of your\ncaptive wife, and there are so many charms and temptations in the way,\nI am afraid you will be led astray by them, and forget your errand. For\nthe people whom you will see in that country do nothing but amuse\nthemselves. They are very idle, gay, and effeminate, and I am fearful\nthey will lead you astray. Your journey is beset with difficulties. I\nwill mention one or two things, which you must be on your guard\nagainst. In the course of your journey, you will come to a large\ngrape-vine lying across your way. You must not even taste its fruit,\nfor it is poisonous. Step over it. It is a snake. You will next come to\nsomething that looks like bear's fat, transparent and tremulous. Don't\ntaste it, or you will be overcome by the pleasures of those people. It\nis frog's eggs. These are snares laid by the way for you.\"\n\nHe said he would follow the advice, and bid farewell to his brother.\nAfter travelling a long time, he came to the enchanted grape-vine. It\nlooked so tempting, he forgot his brother's advice and tasted the\nfruit. He went on till he came to the frog's eggs. The substance so\nmuch resembled bear's fat that he tasted it. He still went on. At\nlength he came to a very extensive plain. As he emerged from the forest\nthe sun was setting, and cast its scarlet and golden shades over all\nthe plain. The air was perfectly calm, and the whole prospect had the\nair of an enchanted land. The most inviting fruits and flowers spread\nout before the eye. At a distance he beheld a large village, filled\nwith people without number, and as he drew near he saw women beating\ncorn in silver mortars. When they saw him approaching, they cried out,\n\"Bokwewa's brother has come to see us.\" Throngs of men and women, gayly\ndressed, came out to meet him. He was soon overcome by their flatteries\nand pleasures, and he was not long afterward seen beating corn with\ntheir women (the strongest proof of effeminacy), although his wife, for\nwhom he had mourned so much, was in that Indian metropolis.\n\nMeantime, Bokwewa waited patiently for the return of his brother. At\nlength, after the lapse of several years, he set out in search of him,\nand arrived in safety among the luxuriant people of the South. He met\nwith the same allurements on the road, and the same flattering\nreception that his brother did. But he was above all temptations. The\npleasures he saw had no other effect upon him than to make him regret\nthe weakness of mind of those who were led away by them. He shed tears\nof pity to see that his brother had laid aside the arms of a hunter,\nand was seen beating corn with the women.\n\nHe ascertained where his brother's wife remained. After deliberating\nsome time, he went to the river where she usually came to draw water.\nHe there changed himself into one of those hair-snakes which are\nsometimes seen in running water. When she came down, he spoke to her,\nsaying, \"Take me up; I am Bokwewa.\" She then scooped him out and went\nhome. In a short time the Manito who had taken her away asked her for\nwater to drink. The lodge in which they lived was partitioned. He\noccupied a secret place, and was never seen by any one but the woman.\nShe handed him the water containing the hair-snake, which he drank,\nwith the snake, and soon after was a dead Manito.\n\nBokwewa then resumed his former shape. He went to his brother, and used\nevery means to reclaim him. But he would not listen. He was so much\ntaken up with the pleasures and dissipations into which he had fallen,\nthat he refused to give them up, although Bokwewa, with tears, tried to\nconvince him of his foolishness, and to show him that those pleasures\ncould not endure for a long time. Finding that he was past reclaiming,\nBokwewa left him, and disappeared forever.\n\n      [91] _i.e._, the sudden stopping of a voice.\n\n\n\n\nAGGODAGAUDA AND HIS DAUGHTER,\n\nOR\n\nTHE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP.\n\n\nThe prairie and forest tribes were once at war, and it required the\nkeenest eyes to keep out of the way of danger. Aggodagauda lived on the\nborders, in the forests, but he was in a by-place not easy to find. He\nwas a successful hunter and fisher, although he had, by some mischance,\nlost the use of one of his legs. So he had it tied, and looped up, and\ngot over the ground by hopping.\n\nUse had given him great power in the sound leg, and he could hop to a\ndistance, which was surprising. There was nobody in the country who\ncould outgo him on a hunt. Even Paup-Puk-keewiss, in his best days,\ncould hardly excel him. But he had a great enemy in the chief or king\nof the buffaloes, who frequently passed over the plains with the force\nof a tempest. It was a peculiarity of Aggodagauda, that he had an only\nchild, a daughter, who was very beautiful, whom it was the aim of this\nenemy to carry off, and he had to exert his skill to guard her from the\ninroad of his great and wily opponent. To protect her the better, he\nhad built a log house, and it was only on the roof of this that he\ncould permit his daughter to take the open air, and disport herself.\nNow her hair was so long, that when she untied it, the raven locks hung\ndown to the ground.\n\nOne fine morning, the father had prepared himself to go out a fishing,\nbut before leaving the lodge put her on her guard against their arch\nenemy. \"The sun shines,\" said he, \"and the buffalo chief will be apt to\nmove this way before the sun gets to the middle point, and you must be\ncareful not to pass out of the house, for there is no knowing but he is\nalways narrowly watching. If you go out, at all, let it be on the roof,\nand even there keep a sharp lookout, lest he sweep by and catch you\nwith his long horns.\" With this advice he left his lodge. But he had\nscarcely got seated in his canoe, on his favorite fishing-ground, when\nhis ear caught opprobrious strains from his enemy. He listened again,\nand the sound was now clearer than before--\n\n    \"Aggodagauda--one legged man,\n    Man with his leg tied up;\n    What is he but a rapakena,[92]\n    Hipped, and legged?\"\n\nHe immediately paddled his canoe ashore, and took his way home--hopping\na hundred rods at a leap. But when he reached his house his daughter\nwas gone. She had gone out on the top of the house, and sat combing her\nlong and beautiful hair, on the eaves of the lodge, when the buffalo\nking, coming suddenly by, caught her glossy hair, and winding it about\nhis horns, tossed her on to his shoulders, swept off in an opposite\ndirection to his village. He was followed by his whole troop, who made\nthe plains shake under their tread. They soon reached, and dashed\nacross a river, and pursued their course to the chief's village, where\nshe was received by all with great attention. His other wives did all\nthey could to put the lodge in order, and the buffalo king himself was\nunremitting in his kindness and attention. He took down from the walls\nhis pibbegwun, and began to play the softest strains, to please her\near. Ever and anon, as the chorus paused, could be heard the words--\n\n    \"Ne ne mo sha makow,\n    Aghi saw ge naun.\n    My sweetheart--my bosom is true,\n    You only--it is you that I love.\"\n\nThey brought her cold water, in bark dishes from the spring. They set\nbefore her the choicest food. The king handed her nuts from the\npecan-tree, then he went out hunting to get her the finest meats and\nwater fowl. But she remained pensive, and sat fasting in her lodge day\nafter day, and gave him no hopes of forgiveness for his treachery.\n\nIn the mean time, Aggodagauda came home, and finding his daughter had\nbeen stolen, determined to get her back. For this purpose he\nimmediately set out. He could easily track the king, until he came to\nthe banks of the river, and saw that he had plunged in and swam over.\nBut there had been a frosty night or two since, and the water was\ncovered with thin ice, so that he could not walk on it. He determined\nto encamp till it became solid, and then crossed over and pursued the\ntrail. As he went along he saw branches broken off and strewed behind,\nfor these had been purposely cast along by the daughter, that the way\nmight be found. And the manner in which she had accomplished it was\nthis. Her hair was all untied when she was caught up, and being very\nlong, it caught on the branches as they darted along, and it was these\ntwigs that she broke off for signs to her father. When he came to the\nking's lodge it was evening. Carefully approaching it, he peeped\nthrough the sides and saw his daughter sitting disconsolately. She\nimmediately caught his eye, and knowing that it was her father come for\nher, she all at once appeared to relent in her heart, and asking for\nthe dipper, said to the king, \"I will go and get you a drink of water.\"\nThis token of submission delighted him, and he waited with impatience\nfor her return. At last he went out with his followers, but nothing\ncould be seen or heard of the captive daughter. They sallied out in the\nplains, but had not gone far, by the light of the moon, when a party of\nhunters, headed by the father-in-law of Aggodagauda, set up their yells\nin their rear, and a shower of arrows was poured in upon them. Many of\ntheir numbers fell, but the king being stronger and swifter than the\nrest, fled toward the west, and never again appeared in that part of\nthe country.\n\nWhile all this was passing, Aggodagauda, who had met his daughter the\nmoment she came out of the lodge, and being helped by his guardian\nspirit, took her on his shoulders and hopped off, a hundred steps in\none, till he reached the stream, crossed it, and brought back his\ndaughter in triumph to his lodge.\n\n      [92] Grasshopper.\n\n\n\n\nIOSCO;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE PRAIRIE BOYS' VISIT TO THE SUN AND MOON.\n\nAN OTTAWA LEGEND.\n\n\nOne pleasant morning, five young men and a boy about ten years of age,\ncalled Ioscoda, went out a shooting with their bows and arrows. They\nleft their lodges with the first appearance of daylight, and having\npassed through a long reach of woods, had ascended a lofty eminence\nbefore the sun arose. While standing there in a group, the sun suddenly\nburst forth in all its effulgence. The air was so clear, that it\nappeared to be at no great distance. \"How very near it is,\" they all\nsaid. \"It cannot be far,\" said the eldest, \"and if you will accompany\nme, we will see if we cannot reach it.\" A loud assent burst from every\nlip. Even the boy, Ioscoda, said he would go. They told him he was too\nyoung; but he replied, \"If you do not permit me to go with you, I will\nmention your design to each of your parents.\" They then said to him,\n\"You shall also go with us, so be quiet.\"\n\nThey then fell upon the following arrangement. It was resolved that\neach one should obtain from his parents as many pairs of moccasins as\nhe could, and also new clothing of leather. They fixed on a spot where\nthey would conceal all their articles, until they were ready to start\non their journey, and which would serve, in the mean time, as a place\nof rendezvous, where they might secretly meet and consult. This being\narranged, they returned home.\n\nA long time passed before they could put their plan into execution. But\nthey kept it a profound secret, even to the boy. They frequently met at\nthe appointed place, and discussed the subject. At length everything\nwas in readiness, and they decided on a day to set out. That morning\nthe boy shed tears for a pair of new leather leggings. \"Don't you see,\"\nsaid he to his parents, \"how my companions are dressed?\" This appeal to\ntheir pride and envy prevailed. He obtained the leggings. Artifices\nwere also resorted to by the others, under the plea of going out on a\nspecial hunt. They said to one another, but in a tone that they might\nbe overheard, \"We will see who will bring in the most game.\" They went\nout in different directions, but soon met at the appointed place, where\nthey had hid the articles for their journey, with as many arrows as\nthey had time to make. Each one took something on his back, and they\nbegan their march. They travelled day after day, through a thick\nforest, but the sun was always at the same distance. \"We must,\" said\nthey, \"travel toward Waubunong,[93] and we shall get to the object, some\ntime or other.\" No one was discouraged, although winter overtook them.\nThey built a lodge and hunted, till they obtained as much dried meat as\nthey could carry, and then continued on. This they did several times;\nseason followed season. More than one winter overtook them. Yet none of\nthem became discouraged, or expressed dissatisfaction.\n\nOne day the travellers came to the banks of a river, whose waters ran\ntoward Waubunong. They followed it down many days. As they were\nwalking, one day, they came to rising grounds, from which they saw\nsomething white or clear through the trees. They encamped on this\nelevation. Next morning they came, suddenly, in view of an immense body\nof water. No land could be seen as far as the eye could reach. One or\ntwo of them lay down on the beach to drink. As soon as they got the\nwater in their mouths, they spit it out, and exclaimed, with surprise,\n\"Shewetagon awbo!\" [salt water.] It was the sea. While looking on the\nwater, the sun arose as if from the deep, and went on its steady course\nthrough the heavens, enlivening the scene with his cheering and\nanimating beams. They stood in fixed admiration, but the object\nappeared to be as distant from them as ever. They thought it best to\nencamp, and consult whether it were advisable to go on, or return. \"We\nsee,\" said the leader, \"that the sun is still on the opposite side of\nthis great water, but let us not be disheartened. We can walk around\nthe shore.\" To this they all assented.\n\nNext morning they took the northerly shore, to walk around it, but had\nonly gone a short distance when they came to a large river. They again\nencamped, and while sitting before the fire, the question was put,\nwhether any one of them had ever dreamed of water, or of walking on it.\nAfter a long silence, the eldest said he had. Soon after they lay down\nto sleep. When they arose the following morning, the eldest addressed\nthem: \"We have done wrong in coming north. Last night my spirit\nappeared to me, and told me to go south, and that but a short distance\nbeyond the spot we left yesterday, we should come to a river with high\nbanks. That by looking off its mouth, we should see an island, which\nwould approach to us. He directed that we should all get on it. He then\ntold me to cast my eyes toward the water. I did so, and I saw all he\nhad declared. He then informed me that we must return south, and wait\nat the river until the day after tomorrow. I believe all that was\nrevealed to me in this dream, and that we shall do well to follow it.\"\n\nThe party immediately retraced their footsteps in exact obedience to\nthese intimations. Toward the evening they came to the borders of the\nindicated river. It had high banks, behind which they encamped, and\nhere they patiently awaited the fulfilment of the dream. The appointed\nday arrived. They said, \"We will see if that which has been said will\nbe seen.\" Midday is the promised time. Early in the morning two had\ngone to the shore to keep a look-out. They waited anxiously for the\nmiddle of the day, straining their eyes to see if they could discover\nanything. Suddenly they raised a shout. \"Ewaddee suh neen! There it is!\nThere it is!\" On rushing to the spot they beheld something like an\n_island_ steadily advancing toward the shore. As it approached, they\ncould discover that something was moving on it in various directions.\nThey said, \"It is a Manito, let us be off into the woods.\" \"No, no,\"\ncried the eldest, \"let us stay and watch.\" It now became stationary,\nand lost much of its imagined height. They could only see _three_\ntrees, as they thought, resembling trees in a pinery that had been\nburnt. The wind, which had been off the sea, now died away into a\nperfect calm. They saw something leaving the fancied island and\napproaching the shore, throwing and flapping its wings, like a loon\nwhen he attempts to fly in calm weather. It entered the mouth of the\nriver. They were on the point of running away, but the eldest dissuaded\nthem. \"Let us hide in this hollow,\" he said, \"and we will see what it\ncan be.\" They did so. They soon heard the sounds of chopping, and\nquickly after they heard the falling of trees. Suddenly a man came up\nto the place of their concealment. He stood still and gazed at them.\nThey did the same in utter amazement. After looking at them for some\ntime, the person advanced and extended his hand toward them. The eldest\ntook it, and they shook hands. He then spoke, but they could not\nunderstand each other. He then cried out for his comrades. They came,\nand examined very minutely their dresses. They again tried to converse.\nFinding it impossible, the strangers then motioned to the Naubequon,\nand to the Naubequon-ais,[94] wishing them to embark. They consulted\nwith each other for a short time. The eldest then motioned that they\nshould go on board. They embarked on board the boat, which they found\nto be loaded with wood. When they reached the side of the supposed\nisland, they were surprised to see a great number of people, who all\ncame to the side and looked at them with open mouths. One spoke out,\nabove the others, and appeared to be the leader. He motioned them to\nget on board. He looked at and examined them, and took them down into\nthe cabin, and set things before them to eat. He treated them very\nkindly.\n\nWhen they came on deck again, all the sails were spread, and they were\nfast losing sight of land. In the course of the night and the following\nday they were sick at the stomach, but soon recovered. When they had\nbeen out at sea ten days, they became sorrowful, as they could not\nconverse with those who had hats on.[95]\n\nThe following night Ioscoda dreamed that his spirit appeared to him. He\ntold him not to be discouraged, that he would open his ears, so as to\nbe able to understand the people with hats. I will not permit you to\nunderstand much, said he, only sufficient to reveal your wants, and to\nknow what is said to you. He repeated this dream to his friends, and\nthey were satisfied and encouraged by it. When they had been out about\nthirty days, the master of the ship told them, and motioned them to\nchange their dresses of leather, for such as his people wore; for if\nthey did not, his master would be displeased. It was on this occasion\nthat the elder first understood a few words of the language. The first\nphrase he comprehended was _La que notte_, and from one word to another\nhe was soon able to speak it.\n\nOne day the men cried out, land! and soon after they heard a noise\nresembling thunder, in repeated peals. When they had got over their\nfears, they were shown the large guns which made this noise. Soon after\nthey saw a vessel smaller than their own, sailing out of a bay, in the\ndirection toward them. She had flags on her masts, and when she came\nnear she fired a gun. The large vessel also hoisted her flags, and the\nboat came alongside. The master told the person who came in it, to tell\nhis master or king, that he had six strangers on board, such as had\nnever been seen before, and that they were coming to visit him. It was\nsome time after the departure of this messenger before the vessel got\nup to the town. It was then dark, but they could see people, and\nhorses, and odawbons[96] ashore. They were landed and placed in a\ncovered vehicle, and driven off. When they stopped, they were taken\ninto a large and splendid room. They were here told that the great\nchief wished to see them. They were shown into another large room,\nfilled with men and women. All the room was Shoneancauda.[97] The chief\nasked them their business, and the object of their journey. They told\nhim where they were from, and where they were going, and the nature of\nthe enterprise which they had undertaken. He tried to dissuade them\nfrom its execution, telling them of the many trials and difficulties\nthey would have to undergo; that so many days' march from his country\ndwelt a bad spirit, or Manito, who foreknew and foretold the existence\nand arrival of all who entered into his country. It is impossible, he\nsaid, my children, for you ever to arrive at the object you are in\nsearch of.\n\nIoscoda replied: \"Nosa,\"[98] and they could see the chief blush in\nbeing called _father_, \"we have come so far on our way, and we will\ncontinue it; we have resolved firmly that we will do so. We think our\nlives are of no value, for we have given them up for this object.\nNosa,\" he repeated, \"do not then prevent us from going on our journey.\"\nThe chief then dismissed them with valuable presents, after having\nappointed the next day to speak to them again, and provided everything\nthat they needed or wished for.\n\nNext day they were again summoned to appear before the king. He again\ntried to dissuade them. He said he would send them back to their\ncountry in one of his vessels: but all he said had no effect. \"Well,\"\nsaid he, \"if you will go, I will furnish you all that is needed for\nyour journey.\" He had everything provided accordingly. He told them,\nthat three days before they reached the Bad Spirit he had warned them\nof, they would hear his Sheshegwun.[99] He cautioned them to be wise,\nfor he felt that he should never see them all again.\n\nThey resumed their journey, and travelled sometimes through villages,\nbut they soon left them behind and passed over a region of forests and\nplains, without inhabitants. They found all the productions of a new\ncountry: trees, animals, birds, were entirely different from those they\nwere accustomed to, on the other side of the great waters. They\ntravelled, and travelled, till they wore out all of the clothing that\nhad been given to them, and had to take to their leather clothing\nagain.\n\nThe three days the chief spoke of meant three years, for it was only at\nthe end of the third year, that they came within the sight of the\nspirit's sheshegwun. The sound appeared to be near, but they continued\nwalking on, day after day, without apparently getting any nearer to it.\nSuddenly they came to a very extensive plain; they could see the blue\nridges of distant mountains rising on the horizon beyond it; they\npushed on, thinking to get over the plain before night, but they were\novertaken by darkness; they were now on a stony part of the plain,\ncovered by about a foot's depth of water; they were weary and fatigued;\nsome of them said, let us lie down; no, no, said the others, let us\npush on. Soon they stood on firm ground, but it was as much as they\ncould do to stand, for they were very weary. They, however, made an\neffort to encamp, lighted up a fire, and refreshed themselves by\neating. They then commenced conversing about the sound of the spirit's\nsheshegwun, which they had heard for several days. Suddenly the\ninstrument commenced; it sounded as if it was subterraneous, and it\nshook the ground: they tied up their bundles and went toward the spot.\nThey soon came to a large building, which was illuminated. As soon as\nthey came to the door, they were met by a rather elderly man. \"How do\nye do,\" said he, \"my grandsons? Walk in, walk in; I am glad to see you:\nI knew when you started: I saw you encamp this evening: sit down, and\ntell me the news of the country you left, for I feel interested in it.\"\nThey complied with his wishes, and when they had concluded, each one\npresented him with a piece of tobacco. He then revealed to them things\nthat would happen in their journey, and predicted its successful\naccomplishment. \"I do not say that all of you,\" said he, \"will\nsuccessfully go through it. You have passed over three-fourths of your\nway, and I will tell you how to proceed after you get to the edge of\nthe earth. Soon after you leave this place, you will hear a deafening\nsound: it is the sky descending on the edge, but it keeps moving up and\ndown; you will watch, and when it moves up, you will see a vacant space\nbetween it and the earth. You must not be afraid. A chasm of awful\ndepth is there, which separates the unknown from this earth, and a veil\nof darkness conceals it. Fear not. You must leap through; and if you\nsucceed, you will find yourselves on a beautiful plain, and in a soft\nand mild light emitted by the moon.\" They thanked him for his advice. A\npause ensued.\n\n\"I have told you the way,\" he said; \"now tell me again of the country\nyou have left; for I committed dreadful ravages while I was there: does\nnot the country show marks of it? and do not the inhabitants tell of me\nto their children? I came to this place to mourn over my bad actions,\nand am trying, by my present course of life, to relieve my mind of the\nload that is on it.\" They told him that their fathers spoke often of a\ncelebrated personage called Manabozho, who performed great exploits. \"I\nam he,\" said the Spirit. They gazed with astonishment and fear. \"Do you\nsee this pointed house?\" said he, pointing to one that resembled a\nsugar-loaf; \"you can now each speak your wishes, and will be answered\nfrom that house. Speak out, and ask what each wants, and it shall be\ngranted.\" One of them, who was vain, asked with presumption, that he\nmight live forever, and never be in want. He was answered, \"Your wish\nshall be granted.\" The second made the same request, and received the\nsame answer. The third asked to live longer than common people, and to\nbe always successful in his war excursions, never losing any of his\nyoung men. He was told, \"Your wishes are granted.\" The fourth joined in\nthe same request, and received the same reply. The fifth made an humble\nrequest, asking to live as long as men generally do, and that he might\nbe crowned with such success in hunting as to be able to provide for\nhis parents and relatives. The sixth made the same request, and it was\ngranted to both, in pleasing tones, from the pointed house.\n\nAfter hearing these responses they prepared to depart. They were told\nby Manabozho, that they had been with him but one day, but they\nafterward found that they had remained there upward of a year. When\nthey were on the point of setting out, Manabozho exclaimed, \"Stop! you\ntwo, who asked me for eternal life, will receive the boon you wish\nimmediately.\" He spake, and one was turned into a stone called\nShin-gauba-wossin,[100] and the other into a cedar tree. \"Now,\" said he\nto the others, \"you can go.\" They left him in fear, saying, \"We were\nfortunate to escape so, for the king told us he was wicked, and that we\nshould not probably escape from him.\" They had not proceeded far, when\nthey began to hear the sound of the beating sky. It appeared to be near\nat hand, but they had a long interval to travel before they came near,\nand the sound was then stunning to their senses; for when the sky came\ndown, its pressure would force gusts of wind from the opening, so\nstrong that it was with difficulty they could keep their feet, and the\nsun passed but a short distance above their heads. They however\napproached boldly, but had to wait sometime before they could muster\ncourage enough to leap through the dark veil that covered the passage.\nThe sky would come down with violence, but it would rise slowly and\ngradually. The two who had made the humble request, stood near the\nedge, and with no little exertion succeeded, one after the other, in\nleaping through, and gaining a firm foothold. The remaining two were\nfearful and undecided: the others spoke to them through the darkness,\nsaying, \"Leap! leap! the sky is on its way down.\" These two looked up\nand saw it descending, but fear paralyzed their efforts; they made but\na feeble attempt, so as to reach the opposite side with their hands;\nbut the sky at the same time struck on the earth with great violence\nand a terrible sound, and forced them into the dreadful black chasm.\n\nThe two successful adventurers, of whom Iosco now was chief, found\nthemselves in a beautiful country, lighted by the moon, which shed\naround a mild and pleasant light. They could see the moon approaching\nas if it were from behind a hill. They advanced, and an aged woman\nspoke to them; she had a white face and pleasing air, and looked rather\nold, though she spoke to them very kindly: they knew from her first\nappearance that she was the moon: she asked them several questions: she\ntold them that she knew of their coming, and was happy to see them: she\ninformed them that they were half way to her brother's, and that from\nthe earth to her abode was half the distance. \"I will, by and by, have\nleisure,\" said she, \"and will go and conduct you to my brother, for he\nis now absent on his daily course: you will succeed in your object, and\nreturn in safety to your country and friends, with the good wishes, I\nam sure, of my brother.\" While the travellers were with her, they\nreceived every attention. When the proper time arrived, she said to\nthem, \"My brother is now rising from below, and we shall see his light\nas he comes over the distant edge: come,\" said she, \"I will lead you\nup.\" They went forward, but in some mysterious way, they hardly knew\nhow: they rose almost directly up, as if they had ascended steps. They\nthen came upon an immense plain, declining in the direction of the\nsun's approach. When he came near, the moon spake--\"I have brought you\nthese persons, whom we knew were coming;\" and with this she\ndisappeared. The sun motioned with his hand for them to follow him.\nThey did so, but found it rather difficult, as the way was steep: they\nfound it particularly so from the edge of the earth till they got\nhalfway between that point and midday: when they reached this spot, the\nsun stopped, and sat down to rest. \"What, my children,\" said he, \"has\nbrought you here? I could not speak to you before: I could not stop at\nany place but this, for this is my first resting-place--then at the\ncentre, which is at midday, and then halfway from that to the western\nedge.[101] Tell me,\" he continued, \"the object of your undertaking\nthis journey and all the circumstances which have happened to you on\nthe way.\" They complied, Iosco told him their main object was to see\nhim. They had lost four of their friends on the way, and they wished to\nknow whether they could return in safety to the earth, that they might\ninform their friends and relatives of all that had befallen them. They\nconcluded by requesting him to grant their wishes. He replied, \"Yes,\nyou shall certainly return in safety; but your companions were vain and\npresumptuous in their demands. They were Gug-ge-baw-diz-ze-wug.[102]\nThey aspired to what Manitoes only could enjoy. But you two, as I said,\nshall get back to your country, and become as happy as the hunter's\nlife can make you. You shall never be in want of the necessaries of\nlife, as long as you are permitted to live; and you will have the\nsatisfaction of relating your journey to your friends, and also of\ntelling them of me. Follow me, follow me,\" he said, commencing his\ncourse again. The ascent was now gradual, and they soon came to a level\nplain. After travelling some time he again sat down to rest, for we had\narrived at Nau-we-qua.[103] \"You see,\" said he, \"it is level at this\nplace, but a short distance onwards, my way descends gradually to my\nlast resting-place, from which there is an abrupt descent.\" He repeated\nhis assurance that they should be shielded from danger, if they relied\nfirmly on his power. \"Come here quickly,\" he said, placing something\nbefore them on which they could descend; \"keep firm,\" said he, as they\nresumed the descent. They went downward as if they had been let down by\nropes.\n\nIn the mean time the parents of these two young men dreamed that their\nsons were returning, and that they should soon see them. They placed\nthe fullest confidence in their dreams. Early in the morning they left\ntheir lodges for a remote point in the forest, where they expected to\nmeet them. They were not long at the place before they saw the\nadventurers returning, for they had descended not far from that place.\nThe young men knew they were their fathers. They met, and were happy.\nThey related all that had befallen them. They did not conceal anything;\nand they expressed their gratitude to the different Manitoes who had\npreserved them, by feasting and gifts, and particularly to the sun and\nmoon, who had received them as their children.\n\n      [93] The East--_i.e._ place of light.\n\n      [94] Ship and boat. These terms exhibit the simple and the\n      diminutive forms of the name for ship or vessel. It is also the\n      term for a woman's needlework, and seems to imply a tangled\n      thready mass, and was perhaps transferred in allusion to a ship's\n      ropes.\n\n      [95] Wewaquonidjig, a term early and extensively applied to white\n      men, by our Indians, and still frequently used.\n\n      [96] Odawbon comprehends all vehicles between a dog train and a\n      coach, whether on wheels or runners. The term is nearest allied\n      to vehicle.\n\n      [97] Massive silver.\n\n      [98] My father.\n\n      [99] A rattle.\n\n      [100] A hard primitive stone, frequently found along the borders\n      of the lakes and watercourses, generally fretted into image\n      shapes. Hardness and indestructibility are regarded as its\n      characteristics by the Indians. It is often granite.\n\n      [101] This computation of time separates the day into four\n      portions of six hours each--two of which, from 1 to 6, and from 6\n      to 12 A.M. compose the _morning_, and the other two, from 1 to 6,\n      and from 6 to 12 P.M. compose the _evening_.\n\n      [102] This is a verbal form, plural number, of the transitive\n      adjective--foolish.\n\n      [103] Midday, or middle line.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS.\n\nODJIBWA.\n\n\nThere once lived a little boy, all alone with his sister, in a very\nwild uninhabitable country. They saw nothing but beasts, and birds, the\nsky above them, and the earth beneath them. But there were no human\nbeings besides themselves. The boy often retired to think, in lone\nplaces, and the opinion was formed that he had supernatural powers. It\nwas supposed that he would perform some extraordinary exploits, and he\nwas called Onwe Bahmondoong, or he that carries a ball on his back. As\nhe grew up he was impatient to know whether there were other beings\nnear them: she replied, that there was, but they lived in a remote\ndistance. There was a large village of hunters and warriors. Being now\nwell grown, he determined to seek his fortune, and asked her to make\nhim several pairs of moccasins to last him on the journey. With this\nrequest she complied. Then taking his bow and arrows, and his war-club,\nand a little sack containing his _nawappo_, or travelling victuals, he\nimmediately set out on his journey. He travelled on, not knowing\nexactly where he went. Hills, plains, trees, rocks, forests, meadows,\nspread before him. Sometimes he killed an animal, sometimes a bird. The\ndeer often started in his path. He saw the fox, the bear, and the\nground-hog. The eagles screamed above him. The ducks chattered in the\nponds and lakes. He lay down and slept when he was tired, he rose up\nwhen he was refreshed. At last he came to a small wigwam, and, on\nlooking into it, discovered a very old woman sitting alone by the fire.\nAs soon as she saw the stranger, she invited him in, and thus addressed\nhim: \"My poor grandchild, I suppose you are one of those who seek for\nthe distant village, from which no person has ever yet returned. Unless\nyour guardian is more powerful than the guardian of your predecessors,\nyou too will share a similar fate of theirs. Be careful to provide\nyourself with the Ozhebahguhnun--the bones they use in the medicine\ndance[104]--without which you cannot succeed.\" After she had thus\nspoken, she gave him the following directions for his journey. \"When\nyou come near to the village which you seek, you will see in the centre\na large lodge, in which the chief of the village, who has two\ndaughters, resides. Before the door you will see a great tree, which is\nsmooth and destitute of bark. On this tree, about the height of a man\nfrom the ground, a small lodge is suspended, in which these two\ndaughters dwell. It is here so many have been destroyed. Be wise, my\ngrandchild, and abide strictly by my directions.\" The old woman then\ngave him the Ozhebahguhnun, which would cause his success. Placing them\nin his bosom, he continued his journey, till at length he arrived at\nthe sought-for village; and, as he was gazing around him, he saw both\nthe tree and the lodge which the old woman had mentioned. Immediately\nhe bent his steps for the tree, and approaching, he endeavored to reach\nthe suspended lodge. But all his efforts were vain; for as often as he\nattempted to reach it, the tree began to tremble, and soon shot up so\nthat the lodge could hardly be perceived. Foiled as he was in all his\nattempts, he thought of his guardian and changed himself into a small\nsquirrel, that he might more easily accomplish his design. He then\nmounted the tree in quest of the lodge. After climbing for some time,\nhe became fatigued, and panted for breath; but, remembering the\ninstructions which the old woman had given him, he took from his bosom\none of the bones, and thrust it into the trunk of the tree, on which he\nsat. In this way he quickly found relief; and, as often as he became\nfatigued, he repeated this; but whenever he came near the lodge and\nattempted to touch it, the tree would shoot up as before, and place the\nlodge beyond his reach. At length, the bones being exhausted, he began\nto despair, for the earth had long since vanished from his sight.\nSummoning all resolution, he determined to make another effort to reach\nthe object of his wishes. On he went; yet, as soon as he came near the\nlodge and attempted to touch it, the tree again shook, but it had\nreached the arch of heaven, and could go no higher; so now he entered\nthe lodge, and beheld the two sisters sitting opposite each other. He\nasked their names. The one on his left hand called herself\nAzhabee,[105] and the one on the right Negahnahbee.[106] Whenever he\naddressed the one on his left hand, the tree would tremble as before,\nand settle down to its former position. But when he addressed the one\non his right hand, it would again shoot upward as before. When he thus\ndiscovered that, by addressing the one on his left hand, the tree would\ndescend, he continued to do so until it had resumed its former\nposition; then seizing his war-club, he thus addressed the sisters:\n\"You, who have caused the death of so many of my brothers, I will now\nput an end to, and thus have revenge for the numbers you have\ndestroyed.\" As he said this he raised the club and laid them dead at\nhis feet. He then descended, and learning that these sisters had a\nbrother living with their father, who would pursue him for the deed he\nhad done, he set off at random, not knowing whither he went. Soon\nafter, the father and mother of the young women visited their residence\nand found their remains. They immediately told their son Mudjikewis\nthat his sisters had been slain. He replied, \"The person who has done\nthis must be the Boy that carries the Ball on his Back. I will pursue\nhim, and have revenge for the blood of my sisters.\" \"It is well, my\nson,\" replied the father. \"The spirit of your life grant you success. I\ncounsel you to be wary in the pursuit. It is a strong spirit who has\ndone this injury to us, and he will try to deceive you in every way.\nAbove all, avoid tasting food till you succeed; for if you break your\nfast before you see his blood, your power will be destroyed.\" So\nsaying, they parted.\n\nHis son instantly set out in search of the murderer, who, finding he\nwas closely pursued by the brother of the slain, climbed up into one of\nthe tallest trees and shot forth his magic arrows. Finding that his\npursuer was not turned back by his arrows, he renewed his flight; and\nwhen he found himself hard pressed, and his enemy close behind him, he\ntransformed himself into the skeleton of a moose that had been killed,\nwhose flesh had come off from his bones. He then remembered the\nmoccasins which his sister had given him, which were enchanted. Taking\na pair of them, he placed them near the skeleton. \"Go,\" said he to\nthem, \"to the end of the earth.\"\n\nThe moccasins then left him and their tracks remained. Mudjikewis at\nlength came to the skeleton of the moose, when he perceived that the\ntrack he had long been pursuing did not end there, so he continued to\nfollow it up, till he came to the end of the earth, where he found only\na pair of moccasins. Mortified that he had been outwitted by following\na pair of moccasins instead of the object of his revenge, he bitterly\ncomplained, resolving not to give up the pursuit, and to be more wary\nand wise in scrutinizing signs. He then called to mind the skeleton he\nmet on his way, and concluded that _it_ must be the object of his\nsearch. He retraced his steps towards the skeleton, but found, to his\nsurprise, that it had disappeared, and that the tracks of _Onwe\nBahmondoong_, or he who carries the Ball, were in another direction.\nHe now became faint with hunger, and resolved to give up the pursuit;\nbut when he remembered the blood of his sisters, he determined again to\npursue.\n\nThe other, finding he was closely pursued, now changed himself into a\nvery old man, with two daughters, who lived in a large lodge in the\ncentre of a beautiful garden, which was filled with everything that\ncould delight the eye or was pleasant to the taste. He made himself\nappear so very old as to be unable to leave his lodge, and had his\ndaughters to bring him food and wait on him. The garden also had the\nappearance of ancient occupancy, and was highly cultivated.\n\nHis pursuer continued on till he was nearly starved and ready to sink.\nHe exclaimed, \"Oh! I will forget the blood of my sisters, for I am\nstarving;\" but again he thought of the blood of his sisters, and again\nhe resolved to pursue, and be satisfied with nothing but the attainment\nof his right to revenge.\n\nHe went on till he came to the beautiful garden. He approached the\nlodge. As soon as the daughters of the owner perceived him, they ran\nand told their father that a stranger approached the lodge. Their\nfather replied, \"Invite him in, my children, invite him in.\" They\nquickly did so; and by the command of their father, they boiled some\ncorn and prepared other savory food. Mudjikewis had no suspicion of the\ndeception. He was faint and weary with travel, and felt that he could\nendure fasting no longer. Without hesitancy, he partook heartily of the\nmeal, and in so doing was overcome. All at once he seemed to forget the\nblood of his sisters, and even the village of his nativity. He ate so\nheartily as to produce drowsiness, and soon fell into a profound sleep.\nOnwe Bahmondoong watched his opportunity, and, as soon as he found his\nslumbers sound, resumed his youthful form. He then drew the magic ball\nfrom his back, which turned out to be a heavy war-club, with one blow\nof which he put an end to his pursuer, and thus vindicated his title as\nthe Wearer of the Ball.\n\n      [104] The idea attached to the use of these bones in the medicine\n      dance is, that, by their magical influence, the actor can\n      penetrate and go through any substance.\n\n      [105] One who sits behind.\n\n      [106] One who sits before.\n\n\n\n\nLEELINAU.\n\nA CHIPPEWA TALE.\n\n\nThe Pukwudjininees, or fairies of Lake Superior, had one of their most\nnoted places of residence at the great sand dunes of _Naigow Wudjoo_,\ncalled by the French _La Grandes Sables_. Here they were frequently\nseen in bright moonlight evenings, and the fishermen while sitting in\ntheir canoes on the lake often saw them playing their pranks, and\nskipping over the hills. There was a grove of pines in that vicinity\ncalled the manito wac, or Spirit wood, into which they might be seen to\nflee, on the approach of evening, and there is a romantic little lake\non those elevated sand-hills, not far back from the Great Lake, on the\nshores of which their tracks could be plainly seen in the sand. These\ntracks were not bigger than little children's footprints, and the\nspirits were often seen in the act of vanishing behind the little\npine-trees. They love to dance in the most lonesome places, and were\nalways full of glee and merriment, for their little voices could be\nplainly heard. These little men, the pukwudjininees, are not deeply\nmalicious, but rather delighted in mischief and freaks, and would\nsometimes steal away a fisherman's paddle, or come at night and pluck\nthe hunter's feathers out of his cap in the lodge, or pilfer away some\nof his game, or fish. On one occasion they went so far as to entice\naway into their sacred grove, and carry off a chief's daughter--a small\nbut beautiful girl, who had been always inclined to be pensive, and\ntook her seat often in these lonesome haunts. From her baby name of\n_Neenizu_, my dear life, she was called Leelinau, but she never\nattained to much size, remaining very slender, but of the most pleasing\nand sylph-like features, with very bright black eyes, and little feet.\nHer mother often cautioned her of the danger of visiting these lonely\nfairy haunts, and predicted, playfully, that she would one day be\ncarried off by the Pukwudjees, for they were very frolicsome,\nmischievous and full of tricks.\n\nTo divert her mind from these recluse moods and tastes, she endeavored\nto bring about an alliance with a neighboring forester, who, though\nolder than herself, had the reputation of being an excellent hunter,\nand active man, and he had even creditably been on the war path, though\nhe had never brought home a scalp. To these suggestions Leelinau had\nturned rather a deaf ear. She had imbibed ideas of a spiritual life and\nexistence, which she fancied could only be enjoyed in the Indian\nelysium, and instructed as she was by the old story-tellers, she could\nnot do otherwise than deem the light and sprightly little men who made\nthe fairy footprints as emissaries from the _Happy Land_. For this\nhappy land she sighed and pined. Blood, and the taking of life, she\nsaid, the Great Spirit did not approve, and it could never be agreeable\nto minds of pure and spiritual moulds. And she longed to go to a region\nwhere there was no weeping, no cares, and no deaths. If her parents\nlaughed at these notions as childish, her only resource was silence, or\nshe merely revealed here motions in her eyes. She was capable of the\ndeepest concealment, and locked up in her heart what she feared to\nutter, or uttered to deceive. This proved her ruin.\n\nAt length, after a series of conversational interviews on the subject,\nshe announced her willingness to accede to the matrimonial proposals,\nand the day was fixed for this purpose. She dressed herself in the\nfinest manner possible, putting flowers in her hair, and carrying a\nbunch of wild flowers, mixed with tassels of the pine-tree in her hand.\nOne only request she made, which was to make a farewell visit to the\nsacred grove of the fairies, before she visited the nuptial bower. This\nwas granted, on the evening of the proposed ceremony, while the\nbridegroom and his friends gathered in her father's lodge, and\nimpatiently waited her return. But they waited in vain. Night came but\nLeelina was never more seen, except by a fisherman on the lake shore,\nwho conceived that he had seen her go off with one of the tall fairies\nknown as the fairy of Green Pines, with green plumes nodding o'er his\nbrows; and it is supposed that she is still roving with him over the\nelysian fields.\n\n\n\n\nWILD NOTES OF THE PIBBIGWUN.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nThe Pibbigwun                                                     307\n\nThe Chippewa Girl                                                 307\n\nDoubt                                                             308\n\nFairy Whisperings                                                 309\n\nSong of the Opechee                                               310\n\nChant to the Fire-fly, the Watasee                                311\n\nFairy Chief's Carol                                               312\n\nSong of a Captive Creek Girl                                      312\n\nFemale Song                                                       313\n\nMale Song                                                         313\n\nLove of the Forest                                                314\n\nLight of Christianity in the Wigwam                               315\n\nThe Nocturnal Grave Lights                                        316\n\nManito                                                            317\n\nNiagara, an Allegory                                              318\n\nChileeli, a Spirit's Whisperings                                  319\n\nStanzas on the State of the Iroquois                              322\n\nThe Loon's Foot--a Song                                           324\n\nTulco, Prince of Notto                                            325\n\nOn Presenting a Wild Rose plucked on the Sources\nof the Mississippi                                                326\n\nThe Red Man                                                       327\n\nThe Skeleton wrapped in Gold                                      330\n\nWaub Ojeeg's Death Whisperings                                    332\n\nTo the Miscodeed                                                  333\n\nThe Star Family                                                   335\n\nSong of the Wolf-Brother                                          339\n\nAbbinochi                                                         341\n\nTo Pauguk                                                         342\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nTHE PIBBIGWUN.[107]\n\n\nI ope my voice, not with the organ's tone,\n  Deep, solemn and majestic; not with sounds\nOf trump or drum, that cheer armed squadrons on,\n  In coats of steel, o'er lines of bloody grounds,\nNor is my tone, the tone of rushing storms,\n  That sweep in mad career through forests tall,\nUp-tearing gnarled oaks, with sounds of hellish forms,\n  That bode destruction black, and death to all.\nNor is it yet the screaming warrior, loud,\n  With hand upraised to mouth, hyena-strong,\nThat tells of midnight onrush, hell-endowed,\n  And bleeding scalp of aged, mild and young.\nAh no! it is a note that's only blown,\n  Where kindness fills the heart, and every thrill\nIs peace and love, while music's softer tone\n  Steals on the evening air, its simple aims to fill,\nWaking the female ear to carols of the Pibbigwun.\n\n      [107] Indian flute.\n\n\n\nTHE CHIPPEWA GIRL.\n\n\nThey tell me, the men with a white-white face\nBelong to a purer, nobler race;\nBut why, if they do, and it may be so,\nDo their tongues cry, \"Yes\"--and their actions, \"No?\"\n\nThey tell me, that white is a heavenly hue,\nAnd it may be so, but the sky is blue;\nAnd the first of men--as our old men say,\nHad earth-brown skins, and were made of clay.\n\nBut throughout my life, I've heard it said,\nThere's nothing surpasses a tint of red;\nOh, the white man's cheeks look pale and sad,\nCompared to my beautiful Indian lad.\n\nThen let them talk of their race divine,\nTheir glittering domes, and sparkling wine;\nGive me a lodge, like my fathers had,\nAnd my tall, straight, beautiful Indian lad.\n\n\n\nDOUBT.\n\n\nNinimosha,[108] think'st thou of me,\nWhen beneath the forest tree?\nDo'st thou in the passing wind,\nCatch the sighs I've cast behind?\nAh! I fear--I fear--I fear,\nEvil bird hath filled thine ear.\n\nNinimosha, in the clear blue sky,\nCanst thou read my constancy,\nOr in whispering branches near,\nAught from thy true lover hear?\nAh! I fear--I fear--I fear,\nEvil bird hath filled thine ear.\n\n      [108] My sweetheart.\n\n\n\nFAIRY WHISPERINGS.\n\nSupposed to be addressed to, and responded by a young pine-tree, in a\nstate of transformation.\n\nINVOCATION.\n\n\nSpirit of the dancing leaves,\nHear a throbbing heart that grieves,\nNot for joys this world can give,\nBut the life that spirits live:\nSpirit of the foaming billow,\nVisit thou my nightly pillow,\nShedding o'er it silver dreams,\nOf the mountain brooks and streams,\nSunny glades, and golden hours,\nSuch as suit thy buoyant powers:\nSpirit of the starry night,\nPencil out thy fleecy light,\nThat my footprints still my lead\nTo the blush-let Miscodeed,[109]\nOr the flower to passion true\nYielding free its carmine hue:\nSpirit of the morning dawn,\nWaft thy fleecy columns on,\nSnowy white, or tender blue,\nSuch as brave men love to view.\nSpirit of the greenwood plume,\nShed around thy leaf perfume,\nSuch as springs from buds of gold\nWhich thy tiny hands unfold.\nSpirits, hither quick repair,\nHear a maiden's evening prayer.\n\n      [109] Claytonia Virginica.\n\n\n\nRESPONSE.\n\n\nMaiden, think me not a tree,\nBut thine own dear lover free,\nTall and youthful in my bloom\nWith the bright green nodding plume.\nThou art leaning on my breast,\nLean forever there, and rest!\nFly from man, that bloody race,\nPards, assassins, bold and base;\nQuit their dim, and false parade\nFor the quiet lonely shade.\nLeave the windy birchen cot\nFor my own light happy lot;\nO'er thee I my veil will fling,\nLight as beetle's silken wing;\nI will breathe perfume of flowers,\nO'er thy happy evening hours;\nI will in my shell canoe\nWaft thee o'er the waters blue;\nI will deck thy mantle fold,\nWith the sun's last rays of gold.\nCome, and on the mountain free\nRove a fairy bright with me.\n\n\n\nSONG OF THE OPECHEE, THE ROBIN.\n\nThe Chippewas relate that the robin originated from a youth who was\nsubjected to too severe a task of fasting.\n\n\nIn the boundless woods there are berries of red,\n  And fruits of a beautiful blue,\nWhere, by nature's own hand, the sweet singers are fed,\n  And to nature they ever are true.\n\nWe go not with arrow and bow to the field,\n  Like men of the fierce ruddy race,\nTo take away lives which they never can give,\n  And revel the lords of the chase.\n\nIf danger approaches, with instant alarm\n  We fly to our own leafy woods,\nAnd there, with an innocent carol and charm,\n  We sing to our dear little broods.\n\nAt morning we sally in quest of the grain\n  Kind nature in plenty supplies,\nWe skip o'er the beautiful wide-stretching plain,\n  And sport in the vault of the skies.\n\nAt evening we perch in some neighboring tree\n  To carol our evening adieu,\nAnd feel, although man assert he is free,\n  We only have liberty true.\n\nWe sing out our praises to God and to man,\n  We live as heaven taught us to live,\nAnd I would not change back to mortality's plan\n  For all that the mortal can give.\n\nHere ceased the sweet singer; then pluming his breast,\n  He winged the blue firmament free,\nRepeating, as homeward he flew to his rest,\n  Tshee-ree-lee--Tshee-ree-lee--Tshee-ree-lee!\n\n\n\nEVENING CHANT OF INDIAN CHILDREN TO THE WATASEE, THE FIRE-FLY.\n\n\nFire-fly, fire-fly! bright little thing,\nLight me to bed, and my song I will sing.\nGive me your light, as you fly o'er my head,\nThat I may merrily go to my bed.\nGive me your light o'er the grass as you creep,\nThat I may joyfully go to my sleep.\nCome, little fire-fly--come, little beast--\nCome! and I'll make you to-morrow a feast.\nCome, little candle that flies as I sing,\nBright little fairy-bug--night's little king;\nCome, and I'll dance as you guide me along,\nCome, and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song.\n\n\n\nSONG OF A FAIRY CHIEF.\n\nAddressed to the winds on transferring his sister to a position as\none of the planets in the morning sky.\n\n\nBlow, winds, blow, my sister lingers\n  From her dwelling in the sky,\nWhere the moon with rosy fingers\n  Shall her cheeks with vermil dye.\n\nThere my earliest views directed,\n  Shall from her their brilliance take\nAnd her smiles through clouds reflected,\n  Guide me on, by wood and lake.\n\nWhile I range the highest mountains,\n  Sport in valleys, green and low,\nOr beside our Indian fountains,\n  Raise my tiny hip hallo.\n\n\n\nSONG OF A CAPTIVE CREEK GIRL,\n\nWho was an exile in a distant northern tribe, confined on an island\nin Lake Superior.\n\n\nTo sunny vales, to balmy skies,\nMy thoughts, a flowery arrow, flies;\nI see the wood, the bank, the glade,\nWhere first, a wild wood girl, I played.\nI think on scenes and faces dear;\nThey are not here--they are not here.\n\nIn this cold sky, in this lone isle,\nI meet no friends, no mother's smile.\nI list the wind, I list the wave;\nThey seem like requiems, round the grave,\nAnd all my heart's young joys are gone;\nIt is alone--it is alone.\n\n\n\nFEMALE SONG.\n\n\nMy love is a hunter--he hunts the fleet deer,\nWith fusil or arrow, one-half of the year;\nHe hunts the fleet deer over mountain and lea,\nBut his heart is still hunting for love and for me.\n\nMy love is a warrior; when warriors go,\nWith fusil or arrow, to strike the bold foe,\nHe treads the bright war-path with step bold and free,\nBut still his thoughts wander to love and to me.\n\nBut hunter or warrior, where'er he may go,\nTo track the swift deer, or to follow the foe,\nHis heart's warm desire, field and forest still flee,\nTo go hunting his love, and make captive of me.\n\n\n\nMALE SONG.\n\n\nMy love, she gave to me a belt, a belt of texture fine,\nOf snowy hue, emboss'd with blue and scarlet porcupine;\nThis tender braid sustain'd the blade I drew against the foe,\nAnd ever prest upon my breast, to mark its ardent glow.\nAnd if with art I act my part, and bravely fighting stand,\nI, in the din, a trophy win, that gains Nimosha's hand.\n\nMy love, she is a handsome girl, she has a sparkling eye,\nAnd a head of flowing raven hair, and a forehead arched and high;\nHer teeth are white as cowry shells, brought from the distant sea,\nAnd she is tall, and graceful all, and fair as fair can be.\nAnd if with art I act my part, and bravely wooing stand,\nAnd with address my suit I press, I gain Nimosha's hand.\n\nOh, I will search the silver brooks for skin of blackest dye,\nAnd scale the highest mountain-tops, a warrior's gift to spy!\nI'll place them where my love shall see, and know my present true;\nPerhaps when she admires the gift, she'll love the giver, too.\nAnd if with art I act my part, and bravely wooing stand,\nI'll gain my love's unsullied heart, and then I'll gain her hand.\n\n\n\nTHE LOVE OF THE FOREST.\n\n\nTo rove with the wild bird, and go where we will,\nOh, this is the charm of the forest-life still!\nWith our houses of bark, and our food on the plain,\nWe are off like an eagle, and back there again.\n\nNo farms can detain us, no chattels prevent;\nWe live not by ploughing--we thrive not by rent;\nOur herds rove the forest, our flocks swim the floods,\nAnd we skim the broad waters, and trip through the woods.\n\nWith ships not of oak wood, nor pitchy, nor strong,\nWe sail along rivers, and sail with a song;\nWe care not for taxes--our laws are but few;\nThe dart is our sickle, our ship the canoe.\n\nIf enemies press us, and evil fear stray,\nWe seize on our war-clubs, and drive them away,\nAnd when there is nothing to fear or withstand,\nWe lift the proud rattle, and dance on the land.\n\nIn feasting and dancing, our moments are gay;\nWe trust in the God who made heaven and day;\nWe read no big volumes, no science implore,\nBut ask of our wise men to teach us their lore.\n\nThe woods are our pastures; we eat what we find,\nAnd rush through the lands like a rattling wind.\nHeaven gave us the country; we cling to the west,\nAnd, dying, we fly to the Lands of the Blest!\n\n\n\nLIGHT OF CHRISTIANITY IN THE WIGWAM.\n\n\nOh why, ye subtle spirits, why\nLift I my eyes to yonder floating sky,\nWhere clouds paint pictures with so clear a hue?\nA heaven so beautiful it must be true.\n\nFor if I but to earth withdraw my eyes,\n  And fix them on the creature man\nTo scan his acts, the dear, fond picture dies,\n  And worse he seems in thought, and air, and plan\nThan the hyena, beast that only digs\nFor food, and not rejoices in the dart,\nThat stopped the warm blood current of the heart.\n\nHad men but had just what the earth can give,\n  It would be misery, and lies, and blood,\nPinching and hunger, so that he who lives\n  But lives, as some poor outcast drowning in a flood.\nAnd then--ah, tell me!--whither goes the soul?\n\nOh why, ye spirits blest, oh why\nIs truth so darkened to the human eye?\nAs if a sombre cloud all heaven made black,\nAnd the sun shone but through a chink or crack,\nWithin a wall, where light is but the accident of things,\nAnd not the purport. Truth may be then as the white men write,\nAnd all our tribes in a darkness set, instead of light.\n\n\n\nNOCTURNAL GRAVE LIGHTS.\n\nIt is supposed to be four days' journey to the land of the dead;\nwherefore, during four nights, the Chippewas kindle a fire on the\ngrave.\n\n\nLight up a fire upon my grave\n                When I am dead.\n'Twill softly shed its beaming rays,\nTo guide the soul its darkling ways;\nAnd ever, as the day's full light\nGoes down and leaves the world in night,\nThese kindly gleams, with warmth possest,\nShall show my spirit where to rest\n                When I am dead.\n\nFour days the funeral rite renew,\n                When I am dead.\nWhile onward bent, with typic woes,\nI seek the red man's last repose;\nLet no rude hand the flame destroy,\nNor mar the scene with festive joy;\nWhile night by night, a ghostly guest,\nI journey to my final rest,\n                When I am dead.\n\nNo moral light directs my way\n                When I am dead.\nA hunter's fate, a warrior's fame,\nA shade, a phantom, or a name,\nAll life-long through my hands have sought,\nUnblest, unlettered, and untaught:\nDeny me not the boon I crave--\nA symbol-light upon my grave,\n                When I am dead.\n\n\n\nMANITO.\n\n\"Every exhibition of elementary power, in earth or sky, is deemed, by\nthe Indians, as a symbolic type of a deity.\"--_Hist. Inds._\n\n\nIn the frowning cliff, that high\nGlooms above the passing eye,\nCasting spectral shadows tall\nOver lower rock and wall;\nIn its morn and sunset glow,\nI behold a Manito.\n\nBy the lake or river lone,\nIn the humble fretted stone,\nWater-sculptured, and, by chance,\nCast along the wave's expanse;\nIn its morn and sunset glow,\nI behold a Manito.\n\nIn whatever's dark or new,\nAnd my senses cannot view,\nComplex work, appearance strange,\nArts' advance, or nature's change--\nFearful e'er of hurt or woe,\nI behold a Manito.\n\nIn the motions of the sky,\nWhere the angry lightnings fly,\nAnd the thunder, dread and dire,\nLifts his mighty voice in fire--\nAwed with fear of sudden woe,\nI behold a Manito.\n\nHere my humble voice I lift,\nHere I lay my sacred gift,\nAnd, with heart of fear and awe,\nRaise my loud _Wau-la-le-au_.\n\nSpirit of the fields above,\nThee I fear, and Thee I love,\nWhether joy betide or woe,\nThou, thou art my Manito.\n\n\n\nNIAGARA, AN ALLEGORY.\n\n\nAn old gray man on a mountain lived,\n  He had daughters four and one,\nAnd a tall bright lodge of the betula bark\n  That glittered in the sun.\n\nHe lived on the very highest top.\n  For he was a hunter free,\nWhere he could spy, on the clearest day,\n  Gleams of the distant sea.\n\n\"Come out! come out!\" cried the youngest one;\n  \"Let us off to look at the sea!\"\nAnd out they ran, in their gayest robes,\n  And skipped and ran with glee.\n\n\"Come, Su;[110] come, Mi;[111] come, Hu;[112] come, Cla;\"[113]\n  Cried laughing little Er;[114]\n\"Let us go to yonder deep blue sea,\n  Where the breakers foam and roar.\"\n\nAnd on they scampered by valley and wood,\n  By earth and air and sky,\nTill they came to a steep where the bare rocks stood,\n  In a precipice mountain high.\n\n\"Inya!\"[115] cried Er, \"here's a dreadful leap!\n  But we are gone so far,\nThat, if we flinch and return in fear,\n  Nos[116] he will cry, 'Ha! ha!'\"\n\nNow, each was clad in a vesture light,\n  That floated far behind,\nWith sandals of frozen water drops,\n  And wings of painted wind.\n\nAnd down they plunged with a merry skip,\n  Like birds that skim the plain;\nAnd \"Hey!\" they cried, \"let us up and try,\n  And down the steep again!\"\n\nAnd up and down the daughters skipped,\n  Like girls on a holiday,\nAnd laughed outright at the sport and foam\n  They called Niagara.\n\nIf ye would see a sight so rare,\n  Where Nature's in her glee,\nGo, view the spot in the wide wild West,\n  The land of the brave and free!\n\nBut mark--their shapes are only seen\n  In Fancy's deepest play;\nBut she plainly shows their wings and feet\n  In the dancing sunny spray.\n\n      [110] Superior.\n\n      [111] Michigan.\n\n      [112] Huron.\n\n      [113] St. Clair.\n\n      [114] Erie.\n\n      [115] An exclamation of wonder and surprise.--_Odj. lan._\n\n      [116] My father.--_Ib._\n\n\n\nCHILEELI.\n\nThe Chippewas relate that the spirit of a young lover, who was killed\nin battle, determined to return to his affianced maid, in the shape of\na bird, and console her by his songs. He found her in a chosen retreat,\nwhere she daily resorted to pass her pensive hours.\n\n\nStay not here--the men are base,\nI have found a happier place,\nWhere no war, or want severe,\nHaunts the mind with thoughts of fear;\nMen are cruel--bloody--cold,\nSeeking like lynx the rabbit's wold,\nNot to guard from winds or drought,\nBut to suck its life's blood out.\nStay not here--oh, stay not here,\n'Tis a world of want and fear.\n\nI have found those happy plains,\nWhere the blissful Spirit reigns,\nSuch, as by our wise men old,\nAll our fathers have foretold.\nStreams of sparkling waters flow,\nPure and clear, with silver glow;\nWoods and shady groves abound,\nLong sweet lawns and painted ground;\nLakes, in winding shores extend,\nFruits, with flowers, inviting blend;\nWhile, throughout the green-wood groves,\nGayest birds sing out their loves.\nStay not here, my trustful maid,\n'Tis a world for robbers made.\n\nI will lead you, soul of love,\nTo those flowery haunts above,\nWhere no tears or pain are found--\nWhere no war-cry shakes the ground;\nWhere no mother hangs her head,\nCrying: \"Oh, my child is dead!\"\nWhere no human blood is spilt,\nWhere there is no pain, or guilt;\nBut the new-freed spirit roves\nRound and round, in paths of loves.\nPauguk's[117] not admitted there,\nBlue the skies, and sweet the air;\nThere are no diseases there;\nThere no famished eyeball rolls,\nSickness cannot harm the souls;\nHunger is not there a guest,\nSouls are not with hunger press'd,\nAll are happy, all are blest.\nRife the joys our fathers sought,\nSweet to eye and ear and thought,\nStay not here, my weeping maid,\n'Tis a world in glooms arrayed.\n\n      [117] Death.\n\nWishes there, all wants supply,\nWants of hand, and heart, and eye;\nLabor is not known--that thorn\nPricks not there, at night or morn,\nAs it goads frail mortals here,\nWith its pain, and toil, and fear;\nShadows typical and fair,\nFill the woods, the fields, the air,\nStately deer, the forests fill,\nJust to have them is to will;\nBirds walk kindly from the lakes,\nAnd whoever wants them, takes;\nThere no drop of blood is drawn,\nDarts are for an earthy lawn.\nHunters, warriors, chiefs, are there,\nPlumed and radiant, bright and fair;\nBut they are the ghosts of men,\nAnd ne'er mix in wars again;\nThey no longer rove with ire,\nWood or wold, or sit by fire;\nCouncil called--how best to tear,\nFrom the gray-head crown its hair,\nDripping with its vital blood,\nHorror--echoed in the wood.\nStay not here--where horrors dwell,\nEarth is but a name for hell.\n\nOh, the Indian paradise is sweet,\nNaught but smiles the gazers meet;\nAll is fair--the sage's breast,\nSwells with joy to hail each guest--\nComes he, from these sounding shores,\nOr the North God's icy stores,\nWhere the shivering children cry,\nIn their snow-cots and bleak sky;\nOr the far receding south,\nBurned with heat, and palsied drought,\nAll are welcome--all receive,\nGifts great Chibiabos gives.\nStay not, maiden--weep no more,\nI have found the happy shore.\n\nCome with me, and we will rove,\nO'er the endless plains of love,\nFull of flowers, gems, and gold,\nWhere there is no heart that's cold,\nWhere there is no tear to dry\nIn a single human eye.\nStay not here; cold world like this,\nDeath but opes the door to bliss.\n\n\n\nON THE STATE OF THE IROQUOIS, OR SIX NATIONS.\n\nIn 1845, the Legislature of New York directed a census of these\ncantons, which evinced an advanced state of industry.\n\n\nThe lordly Iroquois is tending sheep,\n  Gone are the plumes that decked his brow,\nFor his bold raid, no more the wife shall weep--\n          He holds the plough.\n\nThe bow and quiver which his fathers made;\n  The gun, that filled the warrior's deadliest vow;\nThe mace, the spear, the axe, the ambuscade--\n          Where are they now?\n\nMute are the hills that woke his dreadful yell--\n  Scared nations listen with affright no more;\nHe walks a farmer over field and dell\n          Once red with gore.\n\nFrontlet and wampum, baldric, brand, and knife,\n  Skill of the megalonyx, snake and fox,\nAll now are gone!--transformed to peaceful life--\n          He drives the ox.\n\nAlgon, and Cherokee, and Illinese,\n  No more beneath his stalwort blow shall writhe:\nPeace spreads her reign wide o'er his inland seas--\n          He swings the scythe.\n\nGrain now, not men, employs his manly powers;\n  To learn the white man's arts, and skill to rule,\nFor this, his sons and daughters spend their hours--\n          They go to school.\n\nGlory and fame, that erewhile fired his soul,\n  And nerved for war his ever vengeful arm,\nWhere are your charms his bosom to control?--\n          He tills a farm.\n\nHis war-scar'd visage, paints no more deform--\n  His garments, made of beaver, deer, and rat,\nAre now exchanged for woollen doublets warm--\n          He wears a hat.\n\nHis very pipe, surcharged with sacred weed,\n  Once smoked to spirits dreamy, dread and sore,\nIs laid aside--to think, to plan, to read--\n          He keeps a store.\n\nThis is the law of progress--kindlier arts\n  Have shaped his native energies of mind,\nAnd back he comes--from wandering, woods and darts\n          Back to mankind.\n\nHis drum and rattles, both are thrown away--\n  His native altars stand without a blaze,--\nTruth, robed in gospel light, hath found her way--\n          And hark! he prays!\n\n\n\nTHE LOON'S FOOT.\n\n\nI thought it was the loon's foot, I saw beneath the tide,\nBut no--it was my lover's shining paddle I espied;\nIt was my lover's paddle, as my glance I upward cast,\nThat dipped so light and gracefully as o'er the lake I passed.\n            The loon's foot--the loon's foot,\n              'Tis graceful on the sea;\n            But not so light and joyous as\n              That paddle blade to me.\n\nMy eyes were bent upon the wave, I cast them not aside,\nAnd thought I saw the loon's foot beneath the silver tide.\nBut ah! my eyes deceived me--for as my glance I cast,\nIt was my lover's paddle blade that dipped so light and fast.\n            The loon's foot--the loon's foot,\n              'Tis sweet and fair to see,\n            But oh, my lover's paddle blade,\n              Is sweeter far to me.\n\nThe lake's wave--the long wave--the billow big and free,\nIt wafts me up and down, within my yellow light canoe;\nBut while I see beneath heaven pictured as I speed,\nIt is that beauteous paddle blade, that makes it heaven indeed.\n            The loon's foot--the loon's foot,\n              The bird upon the sea,\n            Ah! it is not so beauteous\n              As that paddle blade to me.\n\n\n\nTULCO, PRINCE OF NOTTO.\n\nTulco, a Cherokee chief, is said to have visited, in 1838, the rotunda,\nor excavations, under the great mound of Grave Creek, while the Indian\nantiquities were collected there, and the skeleton found in the lower\nvault was suspended to the wall, and the exudations of animal matter\ndepended from the roof.\n\n\n'Tis not enough that hated race\nShould hunt us out from grove and place,\nAnd consecrated shores, where long\nOur fathers raised the lance and song--\n'Tis not enough that we must go\nWhere unknown streams and fountains flow,\nWhose murmurs heard amid our fears,\nFall only now on foeman's ears--\n'Tis not enough, that with a wand\nThey sweep away our pleasant land,\nAnd bid us, as some giant foe,\nOr willing or unwilling go;\nBut they must ope our very graves,\nTo tell the dead they too are slaves!\nAnd hang their bones upon the wall,\nTo please their gaze and gust of thrall;\nAs if a dead dog from below\nWere made a jesting-stock and show!\n\nSee, from above! the restless dead\nPeer out, with exudation dread--\nThat hangs in robes of clammy white,\nLike clouds upon the inky night;\nTheir very ghosts are in this place,\nI see them pass before my face;\nWith frowning brows they whirl around\nWithin this consecrated mound!\nAway--away, vile caitiff race,\nAnd give the dead their resting-place.\n\nThey point--they cry--they bid me smite\nThe Wa-bish-kiz-zee[118] in their sight!\nDid Europe come to crush us dead,\nBecause on flying deer we fed,\nAnd worshipped gods of airy forms,\nWho ride in thunder-clouds, the storms?\nBecause we use not plough or loom,\nIs ours a black and bitter doom\nThat has no light--no world of bliss?--\nThen is our hell commenced in this.\n\n      [118] White men.\n\n      *      *      *      *\n\nNay, it is well--but tell me not\nThe white race now possess the spot,\nThat fury marks my brow, and all\nI see is but my fancy's pall\nThat glooms my eyes--ah, white man, no!\nThe woe we taste is solid woe.\nComes then the thought of better things,\nWhen we were men, and we were kings.\nMen are we now, and still there rolls\nA monarch's blood in all our souls!\nA warrior's fire is in our hearts,\nOur hands are strong in feathery darts;\nAnd let us die as they have died\nWho are the Indian's boast and pride!\nNor creep to graves, in flying west,\nUnplumed, dishonored, and unblest!\n\n\n\nON PRESENTING A WILD ROSE\n\nPLUCKED ON THE SOURCES OF THE MISSISSIPPI.\n\n\nTake thou the rose, though blighted,\n  Its sweetness is not gone,\nAnd like the heart, though slighted,\n  In memory it blooms on.\n\nThy hand its leaves may nourish,\n  Thy smiles its bloom restore;\nSo warmed its buds may flourish,\n  And bloom to life once more.\n\nYet if they bloom not ever,\n  These thoughts may life impart\nTo hopes I ne'er could sever\n  One moment from my heart.\n\nOh, then, receive my token,\n  From far-off northern sky,\nThat speech, once kindly spoken,\n  Can never--never die.\n\n\n\nTHE RED MAN.\n\n\n  I stood upon an eminence, that wide\nO'erlooked a length of land, where spread\nThe sounding shores of Lake Superior;\nAnd at my side there lay a vale\nReplete with little glens, where oft\nThe Indian wigwam rose, and little fields\nOf waving corn displayed their tasselled heads.\nA stream ran through the vale, and on its marge\nThere grew wild rice, and bending alders dipped\nInto the tide, and on the rising heights\nThe ever-verdant pine laughed in the breeze.\n\n  I turned around, to gaze upon the scenes\nMore perfectly, and there beheld a man\nTall and erect, with feathers on his head,\nAnd air and step majestic; in his hands\nHeld he a bow and arrows, and he would have passed,\nIntent on other scene, but that I spake to him:\n\"Pray, whither comest thou? and whither goest?\"\n\"My coming,\" he replied, \"is from the Master of Life,\nThe Lord of all things, and I go at his commands.\"\n\n  \"Then why,\" I further parleyed, \"since thou art\nSo much the friend of Him, whom white men seek\nBy prayer and rite so fervently to obey--why, tell,\nArt thou so oft in want of e'en a meal\nTo satisfy the cravings of a man? Why cast abroad\nTo live in wilds, where oft the scantiest shapes\nOf foot and wing must fill thy board, while pallid hunger strays\nWith hideous shouts, by mountain, vale, and stream?\"\n\n  \"The Great Spirit,\" he replied, \"hath not alike\nMade all men; or, if once alike, the force of climes,\nAnd wants and wanderings have estranged them quite.\nTo me, and to my kind, forest, and lake, and wood,\nThe rising mountain, and the drawn-out stream\nThat sweeps, meandering, through wild ranges vast,\nPossess a charm no marble halls can give.\nWe rove, as winds escaped the Master's fists--\nNow, sweeping over beds of prairie flowers--\nNow, dallying on the tops of leafy trees,\nOr murmuring in the corn-fields, and, when tired\nWith roving, we lie down on beds where springs\nThe simple wild flower, and some shreds of bark,\nPlucked from the white, white birch, defends our heads,\nAnd hides us from the blue ethereal skies,\nWhere, in his sovereign majesty, this Spirit rules;\nNow, casting lightning from his glowing eyes--\nNow, uttering thunder with his mighty voice.\n\n  \"To you, engendered in another clime\nOf which our fathers knew not, he hath given\nArts, arms, and skill we know not, or if ever knew,\nHave quite forgot. Your hands are thickened up\nWith toils of field and shop, where whirring wheels resound,\nAnd hammers clink. The anvil and the plough\nBelong to you; the very ox construes your speech,\nAnd turns him to obey you. All this toil\nWe deem a slavery too heavy to be borne,\nAnd which our tribes revolt at. Oft we stand\nTo view the reeking smith, who pounds his iron\nWith blow on blow, to fit it for the beast\nThat drags your ploughshares through the rooty soil.\nThe very streams--bright ribbons of the woods!--are yoked,\nAnd made to turn your mills, and grind your corn;\nAnd yet this progress stays not in its toils\nTo alter nature and pervert her plans.\nSteam drags your vessels now, that once\nLeapt in their beauty by the winds of heaven.\nSome subtle principle ye find in fire,\nAnd with a cunning art fit rattling cars\nTo run on strips of iron, with scream and clang\nThat seem symbolic of an angry power\nWhich dwells below, and is infernal called.\nThe war-crowned lightning skips from pole to pole\nOn strings of iron, to haste with quick intelligence.\n\n  \"Once, nature could be hid, and fondly think\nShe had some jewels in the earth, but now ye dig\nInto her very bowels, to recover morsels sweet\nShe erst with deglutition had drawn in. The rocks\nYour toils dissolve, to find perchance some treasure\nLying there. Is yonder land of gold alone\nYour care? Observe along these shores\nThe wheezing engine clank--the stamper ring.\nOnce, hawks and eagles here pursued their prey,\nBut now the white man ravens more than they.\nNo! give me but my water and God's meats,\nAnd take your cares, your riches, and your thrones.\nWhat the Great Spirit gives, I take with joy,\nAnd scorn those gains which nothing can content.\n\n  \"Drudge ye, and grind ye, white man! make your pence,\nAnd store your purses with the shining poison.\nIt was not Manito who made this trash\nTo curse the human race, but Vatipa the black,\nWho rules below--he changed the blood of innocence\nAnd tears of pity into gold, and strewed it wide\nO'er lands where still the murderer digs\nAnd the deceptious delve, to find the cockle out\nAnd pick it up, but laughs the while to see\nWhat fools they are, and how himself has foiled\nThe Spirit of Good, that made mankind\nErst friends and brothers. Scanty is my food,\nBut that sweet bird, chileelee, blue of wing,\nSings songs of peace within the wild-wood dell\nAnd round the enchanted shores of these blue seas--\nNot long, perhaps, our own--which tell me of a rest\nIn far-off lands--the islands of the blest!\"\n\n\n\nTHE SKELETON WRAPPED IN GOLD.\n\nIn digging, in 1854, a railroad in Chili, seventy feet below the\nsurface, in a sandy plain, which had been an ancient graveyard, an\nIndian skeleton, wrapped in a sheet of solid gold, rolled into the\nexcavation. Its appearance denoted an ancient Inca, of the Atacama\nperiod.\n\n\nThe Indian laid in his shroud of gold,\n  Where his friends had kindly bound him;\nFor, in their raid so strong and bold,\n  The Spaniards had never found him.\n\nKind guardian spirits had watched him there,\n  From ages long--long faded,\nEmbalmed with gems and spices rare,\n  And in folds of sweet grass braided.\n\nAnd priestly rites were duly done,\n  And hymns upraised to bless him,\nAnd that gold mantle of the sun,\n  Put on, as a monarch to dress him.\n\n\"Sleep on,\" they said, in whispers low,\n  \"Nor fear the white man's coming,\nFor we have put no _glyph_ to show,\n  The spot of thy entombing.\n\n\"Inca, thy warfare here is done,\n  Each bitter scene or tender,\nGo to thy sire, the shining Sun,\n  In kingly garb and splendor.\n\n\"Earth hath no honors thou hast not,\n  Brave, wise, in every station,\nOr battle, temple, council, cot,\n  Beloved of all thy nation.\n\n\"Take thou this wand of magic might,\n  With signet-jewels glowing,\nAs heralds to the God of Light,\n  Where, father, thou art going.\n\n\"A thousand years the charm shall last,\n  The charm of thy ensealment,\nTill there shall come a spirit vast,\n  To trouble thy concealment.\"\n\nAnd safe he slept in Tlalcol's[119] train,\n  With all his genii by him,\nThrough Atacama's pleasing reign,\n  Ere Manco came a-nigh him.\n\n      [119] Tlalcol, the keeper of the dead, corresponds to the\n      Chebiabo of the Algonquins.\n\n_That_ golden reign spread arts anew,\n  O'er all his Andes mountains,\nAnd temples that his sires ne'er knew,\n  Arose beside their fountains.\n\nPizarro's bloody day flew past,\n  Nor shook his place of sleeping,\nThough, as with earthquakes, deep and vast,\n  The land with ruins heaping.\n\nNor had the cherished ruler more,\n  Broke the deep trance from under,\nBut that a stronger, sterner power,\n  Arose the charm to sunder.\n\nNo gentle genii more could wield,\n  The wand of his dominion;\nNo power of Indian guardian yield,\n  Or wave her golden pinion.\n\nIt was the spirit of _progress_ fell,\n  And trade, and gain united,\nWho swore an oath, and kept it well,\n  That Tlalcol's blessing blighted.\n\nDeep dug they down in Chili's hills,\n  Deep--deeper laid their levels,\nTo drive those cars, whose screaming fills\n  The ear, with sounds like devils.\n\nAnd as they dug, they sang and dug,\n  As digging for a treasure,\nThat should, like dire Arabic drug,\n  Rise, with unmeasured measure.\n\nOld Indian arts, and Indian spells,\n  And all their subtle seeming,\nPassed quick away--as truth expels,\n  The palsied power in dreaming.\n\nDown rolled the cherished Indian corse,\n  The sands no more could hold him,\nNor rite--nor genii--art or force,\n  Nor golden shroud enfold him.\n\n\n\nWAUB OJEEG'S DEATH WHISPERINGS.\n\n\nI go to the land where our heroes are gone, are gone,\nThat land where our sages are gone;\nAnd I go with bright tone, to join hearts who are one,\nThat drew the bold dart at my side, at my side,\nThat drew the bold dart at my side.\n\nThose lands in the bright beamy west, the west,\nThose lands in the bright beamy west,\nAs our fathers foretold, are the plenty crowned fold,\nWhere the world-weary warrior may rest, may rest,\nWhere the war-honored hero may rest.\n\nMy life has been given to war, to war,\nMy strength has been offered to war,\nAnd the foes of my land, ne'er before me could stand,\nBut fled as base cowards in fear, in fear,\nThey fled like base cowards in fear.\n\nMy warfare in life it is done, it is done,\nMy warfare, my friends, it is done;\nI go to that Spirit, whose form in the sky,\nSo oft we have seen in the cloud-garnished sun,\nSo oft in dread lightning espy.\n\nMy friends, when my spirit is fled, is fled,\nMy friends, when my spirit is fled,\nAh, put me not bound, in the dark and cold ground,\nWhere light shall no longer be shed, be shed,\nWhere daylight no more shall be shed.\n\nBut lay me up scaffolded high, all high,\nChiefs, lay me up scaffolded high,\nWhere my tribe shall still say, as they point to my clay,\nHe ne'er from the foe sought to fly, to fly,\nHe ne'er from the foe sought to fly.\n\nAnd children, who play on the shore, the shore,\nAnd children who play on the shore,\nAs the war-dance they beat, my name shall repeat,\nAnd the fate of their chieftain deplore, deplore,\nAnd the fate of their chieftain deplore.\n\n\n\nTO THE MISCODEED.[120]\n\n\nThy petals, tipped with red, declare\nThe sanguinary rites of war;\nBut when I view thy base of white,\nThoughts of heaven's purity invite.\nSymbols at once that hearts like thee\nContain _two_ powers, in which we see\nA passion strong to war inclined,\nAnd a soft, pure, and tender mind.\n\nEarliest of buds when snows decay\nFrom these wild northern fields away,\nThou comest as a herald dear,\nTo tell us that the spring is near;\nAnd shall with sweets and flowers relume\nOur hearts, for all the winter's gloom.\nSoon the opeechee[121] comes to sing\nThe pleasures of an early spring;\nSoon shall the swelling water's roar\nTell us that winter is no more;\nThe water-fowl set up their cry,\nOr hasten to more northern sky;\nAnd on the sandy shore shall stray,\nThe plover, the _twee-tweesh-ke-way_.\nSoon shall the budding trees expand,\nAnd genial skies pervade the land;\nThe little garden hoes shall peck,\nAnd female hands the moss beds deck;\nThe apple-tree refresh our sight,\nWith its fair blows of pink and white;\nThe cherry bloom, the strawberry run,\nAnd joy fill all the new Seegwun.[122]\n\n      [120] Spring beauty, C. Virg.\n\n      [121] Robin.\n\n      [122] Spring.\n\n\n\nTHE STAR FAMILY.\n\n\nWaupee found a deep-trod circle\n  In the boundless prairie wide;\nIn the grassy sea of prairies,\n  Without trace of path beside.\n\nTo or fro, there was no token\n  Man had ever trod the plain;\nAnd he gazed upon the wonder,\n  Gazed the wonder to explain.\n\nI will watch the place, quoth Waupee,\n  And conceal myself awhile;\nThis strange mystery to unravel,\n  This new thing to reconcile.\n\nTracks I know of deer and bison,\n  Tracks of panther, lynx, or hind,\nBeasts and birds of every nature,\n  But this beaten ring is blind.\n\nDo the spirits here assemble,\n  War-dance light to trip and sing?\nGather Medas of the prairie,\n  Here their magic charm to fling?\n\nWaupee crept beneath the hushes,\n  Near the wondrous magic ring;\nClose beneath the shrubs and grasses,\n  To behold so rare a thing.\n\nSoon he heard, high in the heavens,\n  Issuing from the feathery clouds--\nSounds of music, quick descending,\n  As if angels came in crowds.\n\nLouder, sweeter, was the music,\n  Every moment that he stayed;\nTill a basket, with twelve sisters,\n  Was with all its charms displayed.\n\nDown they came, in air suspended,\n  As if by thin silver cords;\nAnd within the circle landed,\n  Gay and bright as beauteous birds.\n\nOut they leaped with nimble gestures,\n  Dancing softly round and round;\nEach a ball of silver chiming,\n  With the most enchanting sound.\n\nBeauteous were they all--but one so\n  More than all the other eleven,\nYoungest she, he sighed to clasp her\n  To his ardent, glowing breast.\n\nUp he rose from his concealment,\n  From his flower-encircled bed;\nBut, as quick-eyed birds, they spied him,\n  Stepped into the car and fled.\n\nFled into the starry heavens,\n  While with open ear he stood,\nDrinking the receding music,\n  As it left his solitude.\n\nNow, indeed, was he a stranger,\n  And a fugitive alone;\nFor the peace that once he cherished,\n  With the heavenly car had flown.\n\nTouched his heart was by love's fervors,\n  He no longer wished to rove;\nLost the charm of war and hunting,\n  Waupee was transfixed by love.\n\nAh! 'tis love that wins the savage\n  From his wanderings, and can teach,\nWhere the truth could never touch him,\n  Where the gospel could not reach.\n\nLong he mourned--and lingering, waited\n  Round the charmed celestial ring;\nDay by day he lingered, hoping\n  Once to hear those angels sing.\n\nTo deceive, the quick eyes glancing,\n  An opossum's form he tries;\nAnd crouched low, beside the circle,\n  Stooped, that he might win the prize.\n\nSoon the sounds he heard descending,\n  Soon they leaped within the ring;\nJoining hand in hand in dancing,\n  Round and round--sweet revelling.\n\nUp he rose, quick disenchanted,\n  Rose and clasped his female star,\nWhile, as lightning, quick the eleven\n  Leaped, and rose within their car.\n\nHome he took her to his wigwam,\n  Sought each varied way to please;\nGave her flowers and rarest presents,\n  All to yield her joy and ease.\n\nAnd a beauteous son rewarded\n  Love so constant, true, and mild;\nWho renewed in every feature,\n  Nature's lonely forest child.\n\nBut, as thoughts of youth will linger\n  Long within the heart's fond core;\nSo she nursed the pleasing passion,\n  Her star-home to see once more--\n\nMade an ark of wicker branches,\n  All by secret arts and care;\nSought the circle with her earth-boy,\n  Fleeing to her Father star.\n\nThere, at length, the boy grew weary,\n  Weary e'en of heavenly spheres,\nLonging for earth's cares and pleasures,\n  Hunting, feasting, joys, and tears.\n\n\"Call thy husband,\" quoth the star chief,\n  \"Take the magic car and go;\nBut bring with thee some fit emblems,\n  Of the sounding chase below.\n\n\"Claw, or wing, or toe, or feathers,\n  Scalp of bird or beast to tell;\nWhat he follows in the wood-chase,\n  Arts the hunter knows so well.\"\n\nWaupee searched the deepest forests,\n  Prairies vast, or valleys low;\nAll to find out the rarest species,\n  That he might the star-world show.\n\nThen he sought the ring of magic,\n  With his forest stores so rare;\nAnd within the starry basket,\n  Rose with all his emblems fair.\n\nJoys of greeting--joys of seeing--\n  Hand to hand, and eye to eye;\nThese o'ercrowned with smiles and laughing,\n  This lodge-meeting in the sky.\n\nThen a glorious feast was ordered,\n  To receive the forest guest;\nWhile the sweet reunion lighted,\n  Joy in every beating breast.\n\nBroad the feasting board was covered,\n  The high starry group to bind;\nWhen the star chief rose to utter\n  His congratulations kind.\n\n\"List, my guests--the Spirit wills it,\n  Earth to earth, and sky to sky;\nChoose ye each a claw or pinion,\n  Such as ye may wish to try.\"\n\nWondrous change! by arts' transformance,\n  At the typic heavenly feast;\nEach who chose a wing a bird was,\n  Each who chose a claw, a beast.\n\nOff they ran on plains of silver,\n  Squirrel, rabbit, elk, or deer;\nWhite Hawk chose a wing, descending\n  Down again to forests here,\n\nWhere the Waupees are still noted\n  For their high essays of wing;\nAnd their noble deeds of bravery,\n  In the forest, mount, and ring.\n\n\n\nSONG OP THE WOLF-BROTHER.\n\n\nNesia, my elder brother,\n  Bones have been my forest meal,\nShared with wolves the long, long winter,\n  And their nature now I feel.\n\nNesia, my elder brother,\n  Now my fate is near its close;\nSoon my state shall cease to press me,\n  Soon shall cease my day of woes.\n\nLeft by friends I loved the dearest,\n  All who knew and loved me most;\nWoes the darkest and severest,\n  Bide me on this barren coast.\n\nPity! ah, that manly feeling,\n  Fled from hearts where once it grew,\nNow in wolfish forms revealing,\n  Glows more warmly than in you.\n\nStony hearts! that saw me languish,\n  Deaf to all a father said,\nDeaf to all a mother's anguish,\n  All a brother's feelings fled.\n\nAh, ye wolves, in all your ranging,\n  I have found you kind and true;\nMore than man--and now I'm changing,\n  And will soon be one of you.\n\nLodge of kindred once respected,\n  Now my heart abhors your plan;\nHated, shunned, disowned, neglected,\n  Wolves are truer far than man.\n\nAnd like them, I'll be a rover,\n  With an honesty of bite\nThat feigns not to be a lover,\n  When the heart o'erflows with spite.\n\nGo, ye traitors, to my lodge-fire;\n  Go, ye serpents, swift to flee,\nWar with kinds that have your natures,\n  I am disenthrall'd and free.\n\n\n\nABBINOCHI.\n\nA MOTHER'S CHANT TO HER SICK INFANT.\n\n\nAbbinochi,[123] baby dear,\nLeave me not--ah, leave me not;\nI have nursed with love sincere,\nNursed thee in my forest cot--\nTied thee in thy cradle trim\nKind adjusting every limb;\nWith the fairest beads and bands\nDeck'd thy cradle with my hands,\nAnd with sweetest corn panaed\nFrom my little kettle fed,\nOft with miscodeed[124] roots shred,\nFed thee in thy baby bed.\n\nAbbinochi, droop not so,\nLeave me not--away to go\nTo strange lands--thy little feet\nAre not grown the path to greet\nOr find out, with none to show\nWhere the flowers of grave-land grow.\nStay, my dear one, stay till grown,\nI will lead thee to that zone\nWhere the stars like silver shine,\nAnd the scenes are all divine,\nAnd the happy, happy stray,\nAnd, like Abbinochi, play.\n\n      [123] A child.\n\n      [124] Claytonia Virginica.\n\n\n\nTO PAUGUK.\n\n(This is the impersonation of death in Indian mythology. He is\nrepresented with a bow and arrows.)\n\n\nPauguk! 'tis a scene of woe,\nThis world of troubles; let me go\nArm'd to show forth the Master's will,\nStrike on thy purpose to fulfil.\nI fear not death--my only fear\nIs ills and woes that press me here.\nWant stares me in the face, or woe,\nWhere'er I dwell--where'er I go;\nFishing and hunting only give\nThe pinching means to let me live;\nAnd if, at night, I lay me down,\nIn dreams and sleep my rest to crown,\nEre day awakes its slumbering eyes,\nI start to hear the foe's mad cries,\nLouder and louder, as I clutch\nMy club, or lance, or bow and dart,\nAnd, springing with a panther's touch,\nDisplay the red man's bloody art.\n\nNay, I am sick of life and blood,\nThat drowns my country like a flood,\nPouring o'er hill, and vale, and lea,\nLodge, ville, and council, like a sea,\nWhere one must gasp and gasp for breath\nTo live--and stay the power of death.\nAh! life's good things are all too poor,\nIts daily hardships to endure.\nMy fathers told me, there's a land\nWhere peace and joy abound in hand,\nAnd plenty smiles, and sweetest scenes\nExpand in lakes, and groves, and greens.\nNo pain or hunger there is known,\nAnd pleasure reigns throughout alone--\nI would go there, and taste and see\nA life so beauteous, bless'd and free,\nWhere man has no more power to kill,\nAnd the Great Spirit all things fills.\nBlanch not, Pauguk, I have no fear,\nAnd would not longer linger here;\nBut bend thy bow and aim thy dart,\nBehold an honest hunter's heart:\nThereby a dart, a boon may give,\nA happy life on high to live.\n\n'Tis all the same, in countries here,\n  Or where Pacific billows roar,\nWe roved in want, and woe and fear\n  Along the Mississippi shore.\nAnd where Missouri's waters rush,\n  To tell to man that God is strong,\nWe shrank as from a tiger's touch,\n  To hear the white man's shout or song.\nO not for us is peace and joy\n  Arising from the race that spread,\nTheir purpose only's to destroy--\n  Our only peace is with the dead.\nThink not my heart is pale with fear,\nBut strike, Pauguk--strike boldly here.","title":"The Myth of Hiawatha, and Other Oral Legends, Mythologic and Allegoric, of the North American Indians","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":94028}