{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35152/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35152","id":"gutenberg_35152","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35152","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Hiawatha, active 15th century","Indians of North America -- Folklore"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Julia Miller, Josephine Paolucci and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This\nfile was produced from scans of public domain material\nproduced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nALGIC RESEARCHES,\n\nCOMPRISING\n\nINQUIRIES RESPECTING THE MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS\n\nOF THE\n\nNORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.\n\nFIRST SERIES.\n\nINDIAN TALES AND LEGENDS.\n\nIN TWO VOLUMES.\n\nVOL. I.\n\nBY HENRY ROWE SCHOOLCRAFT.\n\nAuthor of a Narrative Journal of Travels to the Sources of the Mississippi;\nTravels in the Central Portions of the Mississippi Valley;\nAn Expedition to Itasca Lake, &c.\n\n\nNEW-YORK:\nHARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF-STREET.\n\n1839.\n\n\nEntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839,\nBy HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,\nIn the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.\n\n\nTO\n\nLIEUT. COL. HENRY WHITING,\n\nOF THE UNITED STATES ARMY.\n\nSIR,\n\nThe position taken by you in favour of the literary susceptibilities of\nthe Indian character, and your tasteful and meritorious attempts in\nimbodying their manners and customs, in the shape of poetic fiction, has\ndirected my thoughts to you in submitting my collection of their oral\nfictions to the press. Few have given attention to the intellectual\ntraits and distinctive opinions of these scattered branches of the human\nfamily, without finding the subject interesting and absorbing. But in an\nage of multifarious excitement, in which topic after topic, and\ninvention after invention, have poured in upon us with an almost\noverwhelming rapidity, the interest felt on the subject, and the tribes\nthemselves, and their strong claims to attention, have been thrown into\nthe background and nearly lost sight of.\n\nIt is a pleasing coincidence, that, in addressing one whose feelings and\nsentiments, in relation to them, have preserved their equanimity, amid\nthe din of the intellectual and moral novelties of the day, I can, at\nthe same time, appeal to the ties of literary sympathy and of personal\nfriendship. Accept these expressions of my respect, and believe me,\n\nMost truly yours,\n\nHENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nOF\n\nTHE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n                                                  Page\n\nGeneral Considerations                               9\n\nPreliminary Observations on the Tales               31\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOjeeg Annung; or, the Summer-maker                  57\n\nThe Celestial Sisters                               67\n\nTau-Wau-Chee-Hezkaw; or, the White Feather          74\n\nPeboan and Seegwun. An Allegory                     84\n\nThe Red Lover                                       87\n\nIamo; or, the Undying Head                          96\n\nMon-Dau-Min; or, the Origin of Indian Corn         122\n\nPeeta Kway; or, the Tempest                        129\n\nManabozho                                          134\n\nBokwewa; or, the Humpback                          175\n\nIena; or, the Magic Bundle                         181\n\nSheem; or, the Forsaken Boy                        191\n\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss                                   200\n\nIadilla; or, the Origin of the Robin               221\n\nThe Enchanted Moccasins                            226\n\nThe Broken Wing                                    233\n\nThe Three Cranberries. A Fable                     238\n\nParadise opened to the Indians; Pontiac's Tale     239\n\n\n\n\nGENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.\n\n\nIt is proposed by the author to publish the result of his observation on\nthe mythology, distinctive opinions, and intellectual character of the\naborigines. Materials exist for separate observations on their oral\ntales, fictitious and historical; their hieroglyphics, music, and\npoetry; and the grammatical structure of the languages, their principles\nof combination, and the actual state of their vocabulary. The former\ntopic has been selected as the commencement of the series. At what time\nthe remaining portions will appear, will depend upon the interest\nmanifested by the public in the subject, and the leisure and health\nnecessary to the examination of a mass of original papers, the\naccumulation of nearly twenty years.\n\nThe character and peculiarities of the tribes have been studied under\nfavourable circumstances and new aspects; offering, it is believed, an\ninsight into their mental constitution, as yet but imperfectly\nunderstood. Hitherto our information has related rather to their\nexternal customs and manners, their physical traits and historical\npeculiarities, than to what may be termed the philosophy of the Indian\nmind. Such an examination required time and diligence. Much of the\nearlier part of it was necessarily devoted to clearing the ground of\ninquiry, by acquiring the principles of the languages, and obtaining\ndata for generalization. This was to be done, too, at remote points of\nthe Continent, away from all the facilities and encouragements of\nliterary society, and with the aid of persons profoundly ignorant of the\ngrammatical principles of the languages they spoke, and incapable of\ndiscriminating the fabulous from the true in the histories they related.\nThe severe axioms of commerce had, from the first, caused the Indians to\nbe regarded merely as the medium of a peculiar branch of trade, which\nwas pursued at great hazards, excited deep animosity in the breasts of\nthe respective commercial factors, and gave an absorbing interest to all\nthat took place in the Indian country for two centuries. The\ninterpretership of the languages became, of necessity, the business of a\nclass of men who were generally uneducated, and who, imbued strongly\nwith the feelings and prejudices of their employers, sought no higher\nexcellence in their profession than to express the common ideas\nconnected with the transactions of trade. The result was, then as now,\nthat they comprehended the scope and genius of none of the languages\nthey spoke. Whoever will submit to the labour of a critical examination\ninto the subject, will soon become satisfied that the mediums of\ncommunication he is compelled to use are jargons, and not languages. It\nis impossible not to attribute to this imperfect state of oral\ntranslation, a considerable share of the errors and misunderstandings\nwhich have characterized our intercourse, political and commercial, with\nthe tribes. Made sensible of this defect in the mode of communication,\nat an early period after my entrance into the Indian territories, my\ncollections in Indian lexicography have been withheld from my journals\nof travel for further opportunity to examine the principles of the\nlanguages themselves. Notwithstanding this impression, and the care\nadopted to ensure accuracy, much of my earlier information, derived\nthrough the ordinary channels of interpretation, proved either wholly\nfallacious, or required to be tested and amended by a diligent course of\nsubsequent scrutiny.\n\nLanguage constituted the initial point of inquiry, but it did not limit\nit. It was found necessary to examine the mythology of the tribes as a\nmeans of acquiring an insight into their mode of thinking and reasoning,\nthe sources of their fears and hopes, and the probable origin of their\nopinions and institutions. This branch of inquiry connected itself, in a\nmanner which could not have been anticipated, with their mode of\nconveying instruction, moral, mechanical, and religious, to the young,\nthrough the intervention of traditionary fictitious tales and legends;\nand naturally, as the next effort of a barbarous people, to hieroglyphic\nsigns to convey ideas and sounds. Rude as these characters were,\nhowever, they furnish very striking illustrations of their intellectual\nefforts, and exhibit evidences of that desire, implanted in the minds of\nall men, to convey to their contemporaries and transmit to posterity the\nprominent facts of their history and attainments. Nothing in the whole\ninquiry has afforded so ample a clew to their opinions and thoughts, in\nall the great departments of life and nature, as their oral imaginative\ntales; and it has, therefore, been deemed proper to introduce copious\nspecimens of these collections from a large number of the tribes,\nembracing three of the generic stocks of language.\n\nIn adopting an original nominative for the series, the object has been\nto convey definite general impressions. The term ALGIC[1] is introduced,\nin a generic sense, for all that family of tribes who, about A.D. 1600,\nwere found spread out, with local exceptions, along the Atlantic,\nbetween Pamlico Sound and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, extending northwest\nto the Missinipi of Hudson's Bay, and west to the Mississippi. The\nexceptions embrace the Yamassees and Catawbas on the coast, and the\nTuscaroras, Iroquois, Wyandots, and Winnebagoes, and a part of the\nSioux, in the interior, all of whom appear to have been intruders within\nthe circle, and three of which, namely, the Tuscaroras, Iroquois, and\nWyandots, speak dialects of a generic language, which we shall\ndenominate the OSTIC.[2] The Winnebagoes are clearly of the Abanic[3]\nstock, and the Yamassees and Catawbas--extinct tribes, of whom but\nlittle has been preserved, of the restless and warlike Muscogee race.\nThe latter, who, together with the Cherokees and Choctaws, fill up the\nsouthern portion of the Union, quite to the banks of the Mississippi,\nexist in juxtaposition to, and not as intruders within, the Algic\ncircle. The Chickasaws are a scion of the Choctaws, as the Seminoles\nare of the Muscogees. The Choctaw and Muscogee are, radically, the same\nlanguage. The Cherokees do not appear to have put forth any distant\nbranches, and have come down to our times, as a distinct people. It thus\nappears that four mother stocks occupied the entire area of North\nAmerica, east of the Mississippi, and lying between the Gulf of Mexico\nand Hudson's Bay, with the exception of a single tribe and a portion of\nanother. The Winnebagoes, who are of the Abanic race, had, however,\nmerely crossed from the west to the east banks of the Mississippi, but\nnever proceeded beyond the shores of Green Bay. The Dacotahs had crossed\nthis stream higher north, and proceeded to the west shores of Superior,\nwhence they were beat back by the van of the Algics under the name of\nOdjibwas.\n\nThe object of inquiry is thus defined with general precision, although\nit is not intended to limit the inquiry itself to geographical\nboundaries. It will be perceived that the territory formerly occupied by\nthe Algic nations comprehended by far the largest portion of the United\nStates east of the Mississippi, together with a large area of the\nBritish possessions. They occupied the Atlantic coast as far south as\nthe river Savannah in Georgia, if Shawnee tradition is entitled to\nrespect, and as high north as the coast of Labrador, where the tribes of\nthis stock are succeeded by the Esquimaux. It was into the limits of\nthese people [Algics] that the Northmen, according to appearances,\npushed their daring voyages previous to the discovery of Columbus;[4]\nand it was also among these far-spreading and independent hordes that\nthe earliest European colonies were planted. Cabot, and Hudson, and\nVerrizani made their principal landings among the tribes of this type.\nThe Pilgrims first set foot ashore in their midst, and they landed near\nthe spot where, several centuries before, Thorwald Ericson had fallen a\nsacrifice to the spirit of Norwegian and Icelandic discovery. If the\ncountry had ever been occupied by Esquimaux, as indicated by\nScandinavian history, there was not an Esquimaux there at that period.\nThe entire coast of New-England was possessed by the Algics. They\nextended north of it to Cape Breton. Cartier found them in the Bay of\nChaleur, the Pilgrims at Plimouth, Hudson at the island of Manhattan,\nBarlow and Amidas on the coasts of Virginia. They lined the seaboard;\nthey appear to have migrated along its borders from southwest to\nnortheast, and were probably attached to the open coast by the double\nfacility which it afforded of a spontaneous subsistence, having the\nresources of the sea on one side and of the forest on the other. It is\nprobable that these advantages led them to underrate the interior,\nwhich, being left unguarded, their enemies pushed in from the west, and\nseated themselves in Western New-York and Pennsylvania on the sources of\nthe principal streams. It is evident that the Algics did not penetrate\nthe interior to a great extent, their camps and towns forming, as it\nwere, but a hem or cordon along the Atlantic. At the only points where\nthis edging was penetrated, the discoverers found tribes of the Ostic\nstock, a fierce and indomitable race, of a sanguinary character, and\nspeaking a harsh and guttural language. Such were the Iroquois, who were\nencountered on the Upper Hudson and the Mohawk, and the Wyandots found\nby Cartier at the islands of Orleans and Hochelaga. Regard these two\nleading races of the north in whatever light we may, it is impossible to\noverlook the strong points of character in which they differed. Both\nwere dexterous and cunning woodsmen, excelling in all the forest arts\nnecessary to their condition, and having much in their manners and\nappearance in common. But they spoke a radically different language, and\nthey differed scarcely less in their distinctive character and policy.\nThe one was mild and conciliating, the other fierce and domineering.\nThey were alike in hospitality, in their misconception of virtue, and\ntheir high estimate of bravery. Independence was strikingly\ncharacteristic of both; but the one was satisfied with personal or\ntribal freedom, while the other sought to secure it by general\ncombination. And if the two races be closely compared, there appears to\nbe grounds for the opinion, that one is descended from a race of\nshepherds or pastoral nomades, and the other from a line of adventurers\nand warlike plunderers. It may, perhaps, be deemed among the auspicious\ncircumstances which awaited the Europeans in this hemisphere, that they\nplanted their earliest colonies among the former race.\n\nIn giving this enlarged signification to the terms Algic and Ostic,\nreference has been had to the requisitions of a general philological\nclassification. But it is proper to remark of the Algic tribes, to whom\nour attention is to be particularly directed, that they were marked by\npeculiarities and shades of language and customs deemed to be quite\nstriking among themselves. They were separated by large areas of\nterritory, differing considerably in their climate and productions. They\nhad forgotten the general points in their history, and each tribe and\nsub-tribe was prone to regard itself as independent of all others, if\nnot the leading or parent tribe. Their languages exhibited diversities\nof sound, where there was none whatever in its syntax. Changes of accent\nand interchanges of consonants had almost entirely altered the aspect\nof words, and obscured their etymology. Some of the derivates were\nlocal, and not understood beyond a few hundred miles, and all the roots\nof the language were buried, as we find them at this day, beneath a load\nof superadded verbiage. The identity of the stock is, however, to be\nreadily traced amid these discrepancies. They are assimilated by\npeculiar traits of a common physical resemblance; by general coincidence\nof manners, customs, and opinions; by the rude rites of a worship of\nspirits, everywhere the same; by a few points of general tradition; and\nby the peculiar and strongly-marked features of a transpositive\nlanguage, identified by its grammar, alike in its primitive words, and\nabsolutely fixed in the number and mode of modification of its radical\nsounds.\n\nOne or two additional remarks may be made in relation to the general\ntraits of the Algic race. It was the chiefs of these nomadic bands who\nwelcomed the Europeans to the shore. They occupied the Atlantic States.\nThey everywhere received the strangers with open arms, established\npacific relations with them, and evinced, both by their words and their\npolicy, the abiding sense they had of the advantages of the intercourse.\nThey existed so completely in the hunter state as to have no relish for\nany other kind of labour, looking with an inward and deep contempt on\nthe arts of husbandry and mechanics. They had skill enough to construct\ntheir canoes; knew sufficient of the elementary art of weaving to make\nbags and nets of bark, and the simple tapestry or mats to cover their\nlodges; and, above all, they were expert in fabricating the proper\nmissiles of war and hunting. They had no smiths, supplying their place\nby a very considerable skill in the cleavage of silicious stones. They\nknew enough of pottery to form a mixture which would stand the effects\nof repeated and sudden heating and cooling, and had probably retained\nthe first simple and effectual arts of the human race in this branch.\nThey had but little knowledge of numbers, and none of letters; but found\na substitute for the latter in a system of hieroglyphics of a general\ncharacter, but quite exact in their mode of application, and absolutely\nfixed in the elements. They were formal, and inclined to stateliness in\ntheir councils and public intercourse, and very acute and expert in the\narrangement and discussion of minor matters, but failed in comprehensive\nviews, deep-reaching foresight, and powers of generalization. Hence they\nwere liable to be called cunning rather than wise. They were,\nemphatically, men of impulse, capable of extraordinary exertions on the\ninstant, but could not endure the tension, mental and physical, of\nlong-continued exertions. Action appeared to be always rather the\nconsequence of nervous, than of intellectual excitement. Above all, they\nwere characterized by habits of sloth, which led them utterly to despise\nthe value of time; and this has appeared so constant a trait, under\nevery vicissitude of their history, that it may be regarded as the\nprobable effect of a luxurious effeminacy, produced upon the race under\na climate more adverse to personal activity. It should be borne in mind,\nthat the character first drawn of the Algic race is essentially that\nwhich has been attributed to the whole of the North American tribes,\nalthough it is not minutely applicable to some of the interior nations.\nThe first impressions made upon the strangers from the Old World, sank\ndeep; and there was, naturally, but little disposition to re-examine the\njustice of the conclusions thus formed. These people were, from the\noutset, regarded as of eastern origin; and, if nothing before adverted\nto had been suited to give colouring to the idea, it would have\nresulted, almost as a matter of course, from their having, in all their\ntribes and every band of them, a class of Magii, who affected to exert\nthe arts of magic, offered sacrifices to idolatrous things, and were\nconsulted as oracles both in peace and war. These pseudo priests were\ncalled _Powows_ by the English, _Jongleurs_ by the French, and by\nvarious other terms by themselves and by others; but their office and\ngeneral character were identical. They upheld a spurious worship, and\nsupported it by all sorts of trick and deception. There was no regular\nsuccession in this priesthood, so far as is known; but the office, like\nthat of the war-captain, was generally assumed and exercised by men of\nmore than ordinary acuteness and cunning. In other words, it was\nconferred by the election of opinion, but not of votes.\n\nThe Algics entered the present limits of the United States from the\nsouthwest. They appear to have crossed the Mississippi at the point\nwhere the heavy formations of boulder and gravel, southwest of the\nAlleghanies, are heaved up close along its banks. They were followed, at\ndistinct eras, by the Ostic, the Muskogee, and the Tsallanic[5] hordes,\nby the first of whom they were driven, scattered, and harassed, and\nseveral of the tribes not only conquered, but exterminated. The\nIroquois, who, in their sixfold dialects, constitute the type of the\nOstics, appear to have migrated up the Valley of the Ohio, which they\noccupied and named; and, taking a most commanding and central position\nin Western New-York, interposed themselves between the New-England and\nthe Algonquin sub-types, and thus cut off their communication with each\nother. This separation was complete. They pushed their conquests\nsuccessfully down the Hudson, the Delaware, the Susquehanna, and the St.\nLawrence, and westward up the great lakes. The Wyandots, an Ostic tribe,\nwho, at the discovery of the St. Lawrence by the French, were posted as\nlow down as the island of Orleans, formed an alliance with the French\nand with the Algonquins north of that stream. This exposed them to\ndissension with their warlike and jealous relatives the Iroquois, and\nled to their expulsion into the region of the upper lakes, even to the\nfarther shores of Lake Superior. They were, however, supported by all\nthe influence of the French, and by the whole of the confederate Algic\ntribes, and finally fixed themselves upon the Straits of Detroit, where\nthey were privileged with a high political power, as keepers of the\ngreat council fire, and enjoyed much respect among the Western tribes\nthrough the whole of the eighteenth century. It was this tribe whom it\nrequired most address to bring over, in the combined struggle which the\nlake tribes made for independence under the noted Algic leader Pontiac,\nbetween 1759 and 1764.\n\nHistory first takes notice of the Algics in Virginia, and some parts of\nthe Carolinas and Georgia. The Powhattanic tribes were a clearly-marked\nscion of this stock. They occupied all the streams of Virginia and\nMaryland flowing into the Ocean or into Chesapeake Bay. They were ever\nprone to divide and assume new names, which were generally taken from\nsome prominent or characteristic feature in the geography or natural\nproductions of the country. The farther they wandered, the more striking\nwere their diversities, and the more obscure became every link by which\nidentity is traced. Under the name of Lenawpees and of Mohegans, they\nextended along the seashore through the present limits of Delaware,\nPennsylvania, New-Jersey, and New-York, and various petty independent\ntribes of the same race swept round the whole coast of New-England, and\nthe British provinces beyond it, to Cape Breton and the Gulf of St.\nLawrence. The traditions of all these tribes pointed southwest as the\nplace of their origin, and it was there that they located the residence\nof their God. The Odjibwas and Algonquins proper, and their numerous\nprogeny of tribes in the west and northwest, date their origin in the\neast, and to this day call the north and northwest winds the _home\nwind_,[6] indicating, probably, that it blows back on the track of\ntheir migration. Whether this be considered in a local or general sense,\nit is equally interesting of a people, whose original terms are simple\nin meaning, and constitute, as it were, so many links in the\ninvestigation of their history. The whole of these tribes, interior and\nAtlantic, spoke branches of one radical language. Scattered as they were\nin geographical position, and marked by peculiarities of language and\nhistory, they are yet readily recognised as descendants from a common\nstock. Wherever the process of philological analysis is applied, the\nAlgic roots are found. The tribes coincide also in their general\ncharacteristics, mental and physical. They employed the same\nhieroglyphic signs to express names and events; possessed the same\nsimple, and, in some respects, childlike attainments in music and\npoetry, and brought with them to this Continent, and extensively\npropagated, a mythology, the strong belief in which furnishes the best\nclew to their hopes and fears, and lies at the foundation of the Indian\ncharacter. Simple although their music is, there is something strikingly\ncharacteristic in it. Their Pib-e-gwun is but another name for the\nArcadian pipe; but they did not appropriate the same music to love and\nreligion. The latter was of a totally different, and of a louder and\nharsher kind. Their hieroglyphics, bearing quite a resemblance to the\nEgyptian, express a series of whole images, without adjuncts, and stand\nas general memoranda to help the recollection, and to be interpreted\naccording to the mythology, customs, and arts of the people. There is\nnothing whatever in this system analogous to the Runic character. Nor\ndoes there appear to be, in either language or religion, anything\napproximating either to the Scandinavian or to the Hindoo races. With a\nlanguage of a strongly Semitic cast, they appear to have retained\nleading principles of syntax where the lexicography itself has changed;\nand while they fell into a multiplicity of bands from the most common\ncauses, they do not appear to have advanced an iota in their original\nstock of knowledge, warlike arts, or political tact, but rather fell\nback. The ancient bow and arrow, javelin, and earth kettle, remained\nprecisely the same things in their hands. And whatever mechanical skill\nthey had in architecture, weaving, or any other art, dwindled to a mere\nknowledge of erecting a wigwam, and weaving nets and garters. At least,\nif they possessed superior attainments in the Southern portions of this\nContinent, where they certainly dwelt, these were lost amid the more\nstern vicissitudes and frigid climate of the North. And this was\nperfectly natural. Of what use were these arts to a comparatively\nsparse population, who occupied vast regions, and lived, very well, by\nhunting the flesh and wearing the skins of animals? To such men a mere\nsubsistence was happiness, and the killing of a few men in war glory. It\nmay be doubted whether the very fact of the immensity of an unoccupied\ncountry, spread out before a civilized or half civilized people, with\nall its allurements of wild game and personal independence, would not be\nsufficient, in the lapse of a few centuries, to throw them back into a\ncomplete state of barbarism.\n\nBut we will not anticipate the results of research, where the object is\nmerely to direct attention to the interest of the inquiry itself. To\ndiscover and fix the comprehensive points of their national resemblance,\nand the concurring circumstances of their history and traditions; to\npoint out the affinities of their languages, and to unveil the\nprinciples of their mythology, are conceived to be essential\nprerequisites to the formation of right notions of their probable origin\nand mental peculiarities. And it is obvious that the true period for\nthis inquiry must be limited to the actual existence of the tribes\nthemselves. Every year is diminishing their numbers and adding to the\nobscurity of their traditions. Many of the tribes and languages are\nalready extinct, and we can allude to at least one of the still existing\nsmaller tribes who have lost the use of their vernacular tongue and\nadopted the English.[7] Distinct from every benevolent consideration,\nweighty as these are, it is exceedingly desirable that the record of\nfacts, from which they are to be judged, should be completed as early as\npossible. It is conceived that, in rescuing their oral tales and\nfictitious legends, an important link in the chain has been supplied.\nBut it is believed that still higher testimony remains. History,\nphilosophy, and poetry regard with deep interest these recorded and\naccumulating materials on the character and origin of races of men, who\nare associated with the geographical nomenclature of the country, and to\nwhom at least, it may be assumed, posterity will render poetic justice.\nBut revelation has a deeper stake in the question, and it is one\ncalculated to infuse new energy in the cause of benevolence, and awaken\nfresh ardour in the heart of piety.\n\nIt is not the purpose of these remarks to excite the expectation that a\nlong residence in the Indian country, and official intercourse with the\ntribes, have given the author such access to the Indian mind, or enabled\nhim to push his inquiries so far into their former history and mental\ncharacteristics, as to clear up fully the obscurities referred to; but\nthe hope is indulged that data have been obtained of a new and authentic\ncharacter, which will prove important in any future researches on these\ntopics.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Derived from the words Alleghany and Atlantic, in reference to the\nrace of Indians anciently located in this geographical area, but who, as\nexpressed in the text, had extended themselves, at the end of the 15th\ncentury, far towards the north and west.\n\n[2] From the Algic Oshtegwon, a head, &c.\n\n[3] Denoting occidental. From Kabeyun the west--and embracing the tribes\nwho, at the commencement of 1800, were located west of the Mississippi.\nThe Sioux, Otoes, Omahaws, Osages, and Quapaws, constitute the leading\nmembers of this group.\n\n[4] For some remarks on this question, see Am. Biblical Repository,\nsecond series, No. 2, April, 1839.\n\n[5] From _Tsallakee_--the name by which, according to David Brown, the\nCherokees call themselves.\n\n[6] Keewaydin.\n\n[7] The Brothertons.\n\n\n\n\nINDIAN TALES AND LEGENDS,\n\nMYTHOLOGIC AND ALLEGORIC.\n\nRENDERED FROM THE ORAL TRADITIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS BY\nCOMPETENT INTERPRETERS,\n\nAND WRITTEN OUT\n\nFROM THE ORIGINAL NOTES.\n\n\n\n\nPRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS ON THE TALES.\n\n\nThe following tales are published as specimens of an oral imaginative\nlore existing among the North American aborigines. In the long period of\ntime in which these tribes have been subjects of observation, we are not\naware that powers of this kind have been attributed to them. And it may\nbe asked, Why the discovery of this peculiar trait in their intellectual\ncharacter has not been made until the first quarter of the nineteenth\ncentury? The force of the query is acknowledged; and, in asserting the\nclaim for them, the writer of these pages proposes first to offer to the\npublic some proofs of the correctness of his own conclusions on this\npoint.\n\nThe era of the discovery was the era of maritime adventure. The master\nspirits of those times were men of shrewd, keen sense and adventurous\ntempers, who wished to get ahead in the world, and relied for their\nsuccess, rather upon the compass and sword, than upon their pens. It was\nthe age of action and not of research. Least of all, had they the means\nor the inclination to inquire into the mental capacities of fierce and\nwarlike races of hunters and warriors, who claimed to be lords of the\nsoil, and actually exterminated the first settlement made in St. Domingo\nand in Virginia. They set out from Europe with a lamentable want of true\ninformation respecting them, and were disappointed in not finding them\nwild animals on two legs. Long after the discovery, it was debated\nwhether any faith ought to be kept with them; and the chief point of\ninquiry was, not whether they had any right to the soil, but how they\ncould be turned to the best account in the way of trade and merchandise.\nThe Spaniards, who occupy the foreground in the career of discovery,\nbegan by selling the Indian and compelling him to feudal servitude, and\nwould probably have driven as profitable a traffic as was subsequently\ncarried on with the Africans, had it not soon appeared that the Indian\nwas a lazy man, and not a productive labourer. He sank under the\noverwhelming idea of hopeless servitude, lingered a few years an\nunprofitable miner, and died. The project was therefore relinquished,\nnot because of the awakened sensibilities of the conquerors, but because\nit was (in the mercantile acceptation of the term) a bad business. The\nhistory of the manners, customs, and languages of the ancient nations,\nand particularly of the oriental branches of the human family, from whom\nthey were thought to have descended, was deeply in the dark. Comparative\nphilology was unknown, and the spirit of critical and historical acumen,\nwhich has evinced itself in Germany in modern days, and is rapidly\nextending itself over the world, still slumbered under the intellectual\ndarkness which spellbound the human mind after the overthrow of Greece\nand Rome, and the dispersion of the Jews. To expect, therefore, that the\nhardy commanders of exploring voyages should have, at the opening of the\nsixteenth century, entered into any minute inquiries of the kind\nreferred to, would be to expect that the human mind should reverse its\nordinary mode of operation. These men do not appear to have troubled\nthemselves with the inquiry whether the Indians _had_ a history:\ncertainly they took no pains to put on record facts in the department of\ninquiry to which our attention is now directed. This view results from\nan attentive examination of the earlier voyages and histories of\nadventure in this hemisphere, in which is exhibited the coldest air of\nmercantile calculation. The journals themselves are mere logbooks, rigid\nand dry in their details, destitute of any powers of reflection upon the\nevents they narrate, and unrelieved by exact research, tact of\nobservation, or high-souled sentiment.\n\nHistory is required to pass a less censorious judgment on the moral\ncharacter of those of the colonists who settled north of the latitudes\nof the West Indies. The great Anglo-Saxon stock, which spread along the\nshores of the North Atlantic, carried with it notions of liberty and\njustice, which shielded the aboriginal tribes from the curse of slavery.\nThey treated them as having a just right to the occupancy of the soil,\nand formed treaties with them. They acknowledged, by these acts, their\nexistence as independent political communities, and maintained, in their\nfullest extent, the doctrine of political faith and responsibility. Some\nof the colonies went farther, and early directed their attention to\ntheir improvement and conversion to Christianity. The two powers were,\nhowever, placed in circumstances adverse to the prosperous and\ncontemporaneous growth of both, while they occupied a territory over\nwhich there was a disputed sovereignty. It must needs have happened,\nthat the party which increased the fastest in numbers, wanted most land,\nand had most knowledge (to say nothing of the influence of temperance\nand virtue), should triumph, and those who failed in these requisites,\ndecline. It is believed that this is the true cause why the\ntransplanted European race overspread the land, and the Indians were\ndriven before them. And that the result is by no means owing to a proper\nwant of sympathy for the latter, or of exertions both to better their\ncondition and avert their fate. The Indians could not, however, be made\nto understand this. They did not look to causes, but reasoned wholly\nfrom effects. They saw the white race occupying the prominent harbours,\npushing up the navigable streams, spreading over the uplands, and\nmultiplying in numbers \"like sands on the seashore.\" And they attributed\nto hostile purpose, breach of faith, and cupidity, what was, to a very\ngreat extent, owing to their own idle habits, vices, and\nshort-sightedness. The two races soon came to measure swords; and this\ncontest extended, with short periods of intervening peace, from about\nA.D. 1600 to the close of 1814. The Indians staked stratagem and the\ngeographical obstacles of a vast unknown wilderness, against knowledge,\nresources, and discipline. Their policy was to fly when pursued, and\npursue when relieved from pursuit; to avoid field fights, and carry on a\nmost harassing war of detail. By avoiding concentration in camps, and\noccupying a comparatively large area of country, they have compelled\ntheir assailants, at all times, to employ a force entirely\ndisproportioned to that required to cope with the same number of\ncivilized troops. The result of this long-continued, and often renewed\ncontest for supremacy, it is only necessary to advert to. It has been\nanything but favourable to the production of right feelings and a\nreciprocal knowledge of real character on both sides. The Indians could\nnever be made to appreciate the offers of education and Christianity by\none portion of the community, while others, were arrayed against them in\narms. Their idea of government was, after all, the Eastern notion of a\nunity or despotism, in which everything emanates from the governing\npower, and is responsible to it. Nor has their flitting and feverish\nposition on the frontiers been auspicious to the acquisition of a true\nknowledge of their character, particularly in those things which have\nrelation to the Indian mind, their opinions on abstract subjects, their\nmythology, and other kindred topics. Owing to illiterate interpreters\nand dishonest men, the parties have never more than half understood each\nother. Distrust and misapprehension have existed by the century\ntogether. And it is, therefore, no cause for astonishment, that the\nwhole period of our contemporaneous history should be filled up with so\nmany negotiations and cessions, wars and treaties.\n\nThese remarks are offered to indicate, that the several periods of our\ncolonial and confederate history, and wars, were unfavourable to the\nacquisition of that species of information respecting their mental\ncapacities and social institutions, of which it is our purpose to speak.\nThe whole tendency of our intercourse with them has been, to demonstrate\nrather the physical than moral capabilities of the Indian, his\nexpertness in war, his skill, stratagem, powers of endurance, and\ncontempt of suffering. Indian fortitude has been applauded at the stake,\nand Indian kindness and generosity acknowledged in the wigwam, and in\nthe mazes of the wilderness. Admiration had been excited by his noble\nsentiments of independence and exaltation above personal fear. Above\nall, perhaps, had he been accredited for intellect in his acuteness in\nnegotiation and the simple force of his oratory. But the existence of an\nintellectual invention had never been traced, so far as it is known, to\nthe amusements of his domestic fireside; nor could it well have been\nconjectured to occupy so wide a field for its display in legendary tales\nand fables.\n\nMy attention was first arrested by the fact of the existence of such\ntales among the Odjibwa nation inhabiting the region about Lake Superior\nin 1822. Two years previous, I had gone out in that quarter as one of\nthe members of a corps of observation, on an exploratory expedition to\nthe head waters of the Mississippi. The large area of territory which\nit was found this tribe occupied, together with their number and warlike\ncharacter, induced the department of war to extend a military post to\nthe Falls or _Sault_ of St. Mary's, near the outlet of Lake Superior, in\nthe year above named. I accompanied this force, and assumed, at the same\ntime, an official relation to this tribe, as Agent of Indian Affairs,\nwhich led me to inquire into their distinctive history, language, and\ncharacteristic traits. It was found that they possessed a story-telling\nfaculty, and I wrote down from their narration a number of these\nfictitious tales;[8] some of which were amusing merely, others were\nmanifestly intended to convey mythologic or allegoric information. The\nboundaries between truth and fiction are but feebly defined among the\naborigines of this Continent, and it was found in this instance, that\nthe individuals of the tribe who related the tales were also the\ndepositories of their historical traditions, such as they were; and\nthese narrators wove the few and scattered incidents and landmarks of\ntheir history into the web and woof of their wildest tales. I\nimmediately announced this interesting discovery in their moral\ncharacter to a few friends and correspondents, who were alike interested\nin the matter; and a new zest was thus given to the inquiry, and the\nfield of observation greatly extended. The result was the finding of\nsimilar tales among all the northwestern tribes whose traditions were\ninvestigated. They were also found among some of the tribes west of the\nMississippi, and the present state of the inquiry demonstrates that this\nspecies of oral lore is common to the Algic, the Ostic, and some tribes\nof the Abanic stock. It is conjectured to exist among the rather\nextended branches of the Muskogee, and also the Cherokee, although no\nactual proof is possessed. And it becomes a question of interest to\nascertain how far a similar trait can be traced among the North American\ntribes, and where the exceptions and limitations are to be found. To\nfind a trait which must hereafter be deemed characteristic of the mental\nhabits of these tribes, so diffused, furnishes a strong motive for\nextending inquiries farther and wider. It may be asked whether the South\nAmerican aborigines possessed or still possess, this point of\nintellectual affinity with the tribes of the North. Did Manco Capac and\nMontezuma employ this means to strengthen political power, inspire\ncourage, or console themselves under misfortune? Do the ice-bound and\nimpoverished natives of the Arctic circle draw inspiration in their\ncruel vicissitudes from a similar intellectual source? What sound\ndeductions can be drawn from a comparison of Eastern with Western fable,\nas thus developed? And, finally, is this propensity connected, in other\nof the American stock tribes, with a hieroglyphic system of notation, as\nwe find it in the Algic, which will bear any useful comparison with the\nphonetic system of Egypt, the Runic of Iceland and Norway, or with any\nother mode of perpetuating the knowledge of events or things known to\nthe human race?\n\nA few remarks may be added respecting the character of the tales now\nsubmitted to inspection. And the first is, that they appear to be of a\nhomogeneous and vernacular origin. There are distinctive tribal traits,\nbut the general features coincide. The ideas and incidents do not appear\nto be borrowed or unnatural. The situations and circumstances are such\nas are common to the people. The language and phraseology are of the\nmost simple kind. Few adjectives are used, and few comparisons resorted\nto. The style of narration, the cast of invention, the theory of\nthinking, are eminently peculiar to a people who wander about in woods\nand plains, who encounter wild beasts, believe in demons, and are\nsubject to the vicissitudes of the seasons. The tales refer themselves\nto a people who are polytheists; not believers in one God or Great\nSpirit, but of thousands of spirits; a people who live in fear, who\nwander in want, and who die in misery. The machinery of spirits and\nnecromancy, one of the most ancient and prevalent errors of the human\nrace, supplies the framework of these fictitious creations. Language to\ncarry out the conceptions might seem to be wanting, but here the\nnarrator finds a ready resource in the use of metaphor, the doctrine of\nmetamorphosis, and the personification of inanimate objects; for the\nlatter of which, the grammar of the language has a peculiar adaptation.\nDeficiencies of the vocabulary are thus supplied, life and action are\nimparted to the whole material creation, and every purpose of\ndescription is answered. The belief of the narrators and listeners in\nevery wild and improbable thing told, helps wonderfully, in the\noriginal, in joining the sequence of parts together. Nothing is too\ncapacious for Indian belief. Almost every declaration is a prophecy, and\nevery tale a creed. He believes that the whole visible and invisible\ncreation is animated with various orders of malignant or benign spirits,\nwho preside over the daily affairs and over the final destinies of men.\nHe believes that these spirits must be conciliated by sacrifices, and a\nseries of fasts and feasts either follow or precede these rites, that by\nthe one they may be rendered acceptable, and by the other, his gratitude\nmay be shown. This constitutes the groundwork of the Algic religion: but\nsuperstition has ingrafted upon the original stock, till the growth is a\nupas of giant size, bearing the bitter fruits of demonology, witchcraft,\nand necromancy. To make the matter worse, these tribes believe that\nanimals of the lowest, as well as highest class in the chain of\ncreation, are alike endowed with reasoning powers and faculties. And as\na natural conclusion, they endow birds, and bears, and all other animals\nwith souls, which, they believe, will be encountered in other shapes in\nanother state of existence. So far the advantages of actual belief come\nin aid of their fictitious creations, and this is the true cause why so\nmuch importance is attached to the flight and appearance of particular\nbirds, who, being privileged to ascend in the air, are supposed by them\nto be conversant with the wishes, or to act in obedience to the mandates\nof the spirits: and the circumstance of this belief deserves to be borne\nin mind in the perusal of their tales, as it will be found that the\nwords put into the mouths of the actors express the actual opinions of\nthe natives on life, death, and immortality, topics which have\nheretofore been impenetrably veiled.\n\nThe value of these traditionary stories appeared to depend, very much,\nupon their being left, as nearly as possible, in their original forms of\nthought and expression. In the original there is no attempt at ornament.\nGreat attention is paid, in the narration, to repeating the\nconversations and speeches, and imitating the very tone and gesture of\nthe actors. This is sometimes indulged at the risk of tautology. Moral\npoint has been given to no tale which does not, in the original, justify\nit; and it is one of the unlooked-for features connected with the\nsubject, that so considerable a proportion of them possess this trait.\nIt is due to myself, and to those who have aided me in the collection\nand translation of the materials, to say, that the advantages enjoyed in\nthis respect have been of the most favourable character. The whole\nexamination, extending, with intervals, through a period of seventeen\nyears, has been conducted not only with the aid that a public station,\nas an executive officer for the tribes, has supplied, but with the\nsuperadded intelligence and skill in the languages existing within the\nrange of my domestic and affiliated circle.\n\nOf the antiquity of the tales, the surest external evidence may probably\nbe drawn from the lexicography. In a language in which the actor and\nthe object are riveted, so to speak, by transitive inflections, it must\nneeds happen that the history of its names for objects, whether\npreserved orally or by letters, is, in fact, the history of the\nintroduction of the objects named, and this fixes eras in the\nenlargement of the vocabulary. Although it is true, that without letters\nthese eras cannot be accurately fixed, yet valuable inferences may be\ndrawn from an examination of this branch of the inquiry. Words are like\ncoins, and may, like them, be examined to illustrate history. It has\nbeen found that those of the highest antiquity are simple and brief.\nMost of the primitive nouns are monosyllabic, and denote but a single\nobject or idea. A less number are dissyllabic; few exceed this; and it\nmay be questioned, from the present state of the examination, whether\nthere is a single primitive trisyllable. The primitives become\npolysyllabic by adding an inflection indicating the presence or absence\nof vitality (which is the succedaneum for gender), and a farther\ninflection to denote number. They also admit of adjective terminations.\nPronouns are denoted by particles prefixed or suffixed. The genius of\nthe language is accumulative, and tends rather to add syllables or\nletters, making farther distinctions in objects already before the mind,\nthan to introduce new words. A simple word is thus oftentimes converted\ninto a descriptive phrase, at once formidable to the eye and the ear.\nAnd it is only by dissecting such compounds that the radix can be\nattained.\n\nJudged by this test, most of the tales are of the era of flint\narrow-heads, earthen pots, and skin clothes. Their fish-nets are\nrepresented as being made of the bark of trees. No mention is made of a\nblanket, gun, knife, or any metallic instrument; we do not hear of their\ncutting down trees, except in a single instance, yet there is nothing to\nindicate that their economical labours were not well performed. _Au_ is\nan original, causitive particle, and appears to be the root of a\nnumerous class of words, sometimes with, and sometimes without a\nconsonant added. _Aukee_ is earth, and may be, but is rather too remote\nfor a derivative from [**Hebrew]. By adding _k_ to this root the term is\nmade specific, and denotes an earthen pot or kettle. _Aubik_ is the\nradix for metal, ore, rock. By prefixing the particle _Pe_, we have the\nname for iron, _Misk_ for copper, and so forth; but as euphony requires,\nin forming compounds, that two vowels should not come together, the\nsound of _w_ is interposed in these particular instances. _Gunzh_ is the\nradix for plant; _Tig_ for tree; _Asee_ for animal, &c.; and either by\nsuffixing or prefixing syllabical increments, the terminology of the\nthree great departments of nature is formed. The terms of consanguinity\nare derived from _Ai_, a heart, hence _Si-ai_, elder brother,\n_Sheem-ai_, younger brother, or younger sister, &c. _Konaus_, a loose\nwrapper, is the most ancient and generic term for a garment which has\nbeen found. The principal female garment, leggon, &c., are derivatives\nfrom it. _Muttataus_, a beaver robe, is from the same root. _Wyaun_, a\nfurred skin, and _Waigin_, a dressed skin, appear to form the bases of\nthe nomenclature for the Indian wardrobe. Blanket is a modern term,\nmeaning white furred skin. Woollen cloth took the name of dressed skin,\nand its various colours and qualities are indicated by adjective\nprefixes. Calicoes or printed cottons are named from a generic, meaning\nspeckled or spotted. All these are modern terms, as modern as those for\na horse, a sheep, or a hog, and, like the latter, are descriptive and\npolysyllabic. Tobacco and the zea mays, both indigenous productions, are\nmentioned. The latter is the subject of a simple allegoric tale.\n\nThese particulars may suffice to indicate the importance of etymological\nanalysis in examining the antiquity of the tales. Narrations of a later\nera are denoted by the introduction of the modern compounds, such as\ntheir names for the domestic animals of Europe, a gun, a rifle, a ship,\na spyglass, compass, watch, hat, &c. The bow and arrow, club and lance,\nare the only species of arms actually described as in use, except in a\nsingle instance, and this tale is manifestly an interpolated version of\nan ancient story. The father of the winds makes battle with a huge\nflagroot, and the king of reptiles is shot with a dart.\n\nGeographical terms and allusions to the climate supply another branch of\ncomparison. Some of the grand features of the country are referred to by\ntheir modern Indian names, but this is nearly restricted to what may be\ntermed the historical legends. There are frequent allusions to the\nNorthern hemisphere. Snow, ice, and lakes are referred to. Warm\nlatitudes are once or twice mentioned, and the allusions are coupled\nwith admonitions against the danger of corrupt and effeminate manners\nand habits.\n\nAstronomy and cosmogony constitute subjects of frequent notice; and this\nmight naturally be expected from a people who are quick in their\nperceptions of external nature, and pass a large share of their time\nunder the open sky. The phenomena of thunder, lightning, the aurora\nborealis, meteors, the rainbow, the galaxy of the milky way, the morning\nand evening stars, and the more prominent groups of the fixed and minor\nstars, are specifically named and noticed. The cardinal points are\naccurately distinguished. They entertain the semi-ancient theory that\nthe earth is spheroidal, and the sun and moon perform their circuits\nround it. The visiters to these luminaries, described in the text,\npersonify the former as a male and the latter as a female, under the\nidea of brother and sister. We are left to infer, from another passage,\nthat they believe the sky revolves. Nothing, however, in the \"open\nfirmament,\" is a subject of more constant and minute observation, and a\nmore complex terminology, than the clouds. Their colour, shape,\ntransparency or obscurity, movements, and relative position to the sun\nand to each other, constitute objects of minute notice and deep\nimportance. A large proportion of the names of individuals in the Algic\ntribes is drawn from this fruitful source of Indian observation. The\nGreat Spirit is invariably located in the sky, and the Evil Spirit, and\nthe train of minor malignant Spirits, in the earth. Their notions of the\nposition of seas and continents are altogether vague and confused. Nor\nhas it been observed that they have any knowledge of volcanic action.\nThe idea of a universal deluge appears to be equally entertained by the\ntribes of North and South America.[9] The Algics certainly have it\nincorporated in their traditionary tales, and I have found the belief in\nthese traditions the most firmly seated among the bands the farthest\nremoved from the advances of civilization and Christianity.\n\nIt is the mythology, however, of these tribes which affords the deepest\ninsight into their character, and unfolds, perhaps, some of the clearest\ncoincidences with Oriental rites and opinions. Were the terms Baalim and\nMagii introduced into the descriptions of their worship, instead of\nManito and Meeta, this coincidence would be very apparent. Medical magic\nspread the charms of its delusion over the semi-barbaric tribes who, at\na very early epoch, spread from the Persian and the Arabian Gulfs to the\nMediterranean; and it would not be a light task to find branches of the\nhuman race who are more completely characterized by its doctrines and\npractices than the wide-spreading members of the Algic stock of this\nContinent. Their prophets, jugglers, and meetays occupy the same\nrelative importance in the political scale. They advise the movement of\narmies, and foretell the decrees of fate to individuals. They interpret\ndreams, affect the performance of miraculous cures, and preside over the\nmost sacred rites. Oracles alike to chiefs and kings, warriors and\nhunters, nothing can be accomplished without their aid, and it would be\npresumptuous and impious to attempt anything, in war or peace, which\nthey had decreed to be wrong. But our more immediate object is the class\nof oral fictions among the Western tribes, and for the growth and\ndevelopment of which their peculiar belief in the doctrine of spirits\nand magicians has furnished so wide a field. Come from what quarter of\nthe world they may, the propensity to amusing and serio-comic fiction\nappears to have been brought with them. What traits, if any, of the\noriginal threadwork of foreign story remain, it would be premature, in\nthe present state of these collections, to decide. The character and\nincidents of the narrations are adapted to the condition they are now\nin, as well as the position they now occupy. There is, it is true, a\nspirit of reminiscence apparent which pleases itself in allusions to the\npast; they speak of a sort of golden age, when all things were better\nwith them than they now are; when they had better laws and leaders; when\ncrimes were more promptly punished; when their language was spoken with\ngreater purity, and their manners were freer from barbarism. But all\nthis seems to flit through the Indian mind as a dream, and furnishes him\nrather the source of a pleasing secret retrospection than any spring to\npresent and future exertions. He pines away as one that is fallen, and\ndespairs to rise. He does not seem to open his eyes on the prospect of\ncivilization and mental exaltation held up before him, as one to whom\nthe scene is new or attractive. These scenes have been pictured before\nhim by teachers and philanthropists for more than two centuries; but\nthere has been nothing in them to arouse and inspire him to press onward\nin the career of prospective civilization and refinement. He has rather\nturned away with the air of one to whom all things \"new\" were \"old,\" and\nchosen emphatically to re-embrace his woods, his wigwam, and his canoe.\n\nPerhaps the trait that was least to have been anticipated in the tales\nis the moral often conveyed by them. But, on reflection, this is in\naccordance with the Indian maxim, which literally requires \"an eye for\neye, and a tooth for a tooth.\" And the more closely this feature of\npoetic justice is scrutinized, the more striking does it appear.\nCruelty, murder, and sorcery are eventually punished, although the\nindividual escapes for the time and his career may be long drawn out.\nDomestic infidelity meets the award of death in the only instance\nnarrated. Religious vows are held inviolate. Respect for parents and for\nage, fraternal affection, hospitality, bravery, self-denial, endurance\nunder fatigue or suffering, and disinterestedness, are uniformly\ninculcated. Presumption and pride are rebuked, and warnings given\nagainst the allurements of luxury and its concomitant vices. With a\npeople who look back to some ancient and indefinite period in their\nhistory as an age of glory, an adherence to primitive manners and\ncustoms naturally occupies the place of virtue. The stories are\ngenerally so constructed as to hold up to admiration a bold and\nindependent spirit of enterprise and adventure. Most of their heroes are\ndrawn from retired or obscure places, and from abject circumstances.\nSuccess is seen to crown the efforts of precocious boys, orphans, or\ncastaways. But whatever success is had, it is always through the\ninstrumentality of the spirits or Manitoes--the true deities worshipped\nby all the Algic tribes.\n\nThe legend of Manabozho reveals, perhaps, the idea of an incarnation. He\nis the great spirit-man of northern mythology. The conception of the\ncharacter reveals rather a monstrosity than a deity, displaying in\nstrong colours far more of the dark and incoherent acts of a spirit of\ncarnality than the benevolent deeds of a god. His birth is shrouded in\nallegoric mystery. He is made to combine all that is brave, warlike,\nstrong, wise, and great in Indian conception, both of mortal and\nimmortal. He conquers the greatest magician, overcomes fiery serpents,\nand engages in combats and performs exploits the most extravagant. He\nhas no small share in the Adamic-like labour of naming the animals. He\ndestroys the king of the reptile creation, is drawn into the mouth of a\ngigantic fish with his canoe, survives a flood by climbing a tree, and\nrecreates the earth from a morsel of ground brought up in the paws of a\nmuskrat. In contrast with these high exploits, he goes about playing low\ntricks, marries a wife, travels the earth, makes use of low subterfuges,\nis often in want of food, and, after being tricked and laughed at, is at\none time made to covet the ability of a woodpecker, and at another\noutdone by the simple skill of a child. The great points in which he is\nexultingly set forth in the story-telling circle, are his great personal\nstrength, readiness of resource, and strong powers of necromancy.\nWhatever other parts he is made to play, it is the Indian Hercules,\nSamson, or Proteus that is prominently held up to admiration. It is\nperhaps natural that rude nations in every part of the world should\ninvent some such mythological existence as the Indian Manabozho, to\nconcentrate their prime exploits upon; for it is the maxim of such\nnations that \"the race _is_ always to the swift, and the battle to the\nstrong.\"\n\nIn closing these remarks, it will not be irrelevant to notice the\nevidence of the vernacular character and antiquity of the tales, which\nis furnished by the Pontiac manuscript, preserved in the collections of\nthe Historical Society of Michigan. By this document, which is of the\ndate of 1763, it is shown that this shrewd and talented leader of the\nAlgic tribes, after he had formed the plan of driving the Saxon race\nfrom the Continent, appealed to the mythologic belief of the tribes to\nbring them into his views. It was the Wyandots whom he found it the\nhardest to convert; and in the general council which he held with the\nWestern chiefs, he narrated before them a tale of a Delaware magician,\nwhich is admirably adapted in its incidents to the object he had in\nview, and affords proof of his foresight and powers of invention. It is\ndeemed of further interest in this connexion, as carrying back the\nexistence of the tales and fables to a period anterior to the final fall\nof the French power in the Canadas, reaching to within a fraction more\nthan sixty years of their establishment at Detroit.[10] While, however,\nthe authenticity of this curious politico-mythologic tale is undisputed,\nthe names and allusions would show it to be of the modern class of\nIndian fictions, were not the fact historically known. The importance of\nthis testimony, in the absence of any notice of this trait in the\nearlier writers, has induced me to submit a literal translation of the\ntale, from the original French MS., executed by Professor Fasquelle.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[8] Some specimens of these tales were published in my \"Travels in the\nCentral Portions of the Mississippi Valley\" in 1825, and a \"Narrative of\nthe Expedition to Itasca Lake\" in 1834, and a few of them have been\nexhibited to literary friends, who have noticed the subject. Vide Dr.\nGilman's \"Life on the Lakes,\" and Mrs. Jameson's \"Winter Studies and\nSummer Rambles,\" received at the moment these sheets are going through\nthe press.\n\n[9] Humboldt found it among the traditions of the Auricanians.\n\n[10] Although Quebec was taken in 1759, the Indians did not acquiesce in\nthe transference of power, in the upper lakes, till the _raising of the\nsiege_ of Detroit in 1763. This is the true period of the Pontiac war.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE.\n\n\nThe materials of these tales and legends have been derived from the\naborigines, and interpreted from their languages by various individuals,\namong whom it is deemed important to name the following: Mrs. Henry R.\nSchoolcraft, Mr. William Johnston, of Mackinac; Mrs. James Lawrence\nSchoolcraft, Henry Connor, Esq., of Detroit; Mrs. [Rev.] William\nM'Murray, of Dundas, George C. Martin, of Amherstburg, U. Canada; Mrs.\nLa Chapelle, of Prairie du Chien; Mr. John Quinney, Stockbridge Reserve,\nWisconsin; John H. Kinzie, Esq., of Chicago; Miss Eleanor Bailly, of\nKonamik, Illinois; Mr. George Johnston, Miss Mary Holiday, of Sault Ste.\nMarie, Michigan. These persons are well versed in the respective tongues\nfrom which they have given translations; and being residents of the\nplaces indicated, a reference to them for the authenticity of the\nmaterials is thus brought within the means of all who desire it.\n\nIt is also deemed proper to refer, in this connexion, to Gen. Cass,\nAmerican Minister at Paris, and to C. C. Trowbridge, Esq., of Detroit,\nand James D. Doty, Esq., Green Bay, whose inquiries have been, at my\ninstance, respectively directed to this new feature in the oral\ntraditions of the Indians.\n\nNew-York, January 31, 1839.\n\n\n\n\nOJEEG ANNUNG;[11]\n\nOR,\n\nTHE SUMMER-MAKER.\n\nAN ODJIBWA TALE.[12]\n\n\nThere lived a celebrated hunter on the southern shores of Lake Superior,\nwho was considered a Manito by some, for there was nothing but what he\ncould accomplish. He lived off the path, in a wild, lonesome place, with\na wife whom he loved, and they were blessed with a son, who had attained\nhis thirteenth year. The hunter's name was Ojeeg, or the Fisher, which\nis the name of an expert, sprightly little animal common to the region.\nHe was so successful in the chase, that he seldom returned without\nbringing his wife and son a plentiful supply of venison, or other\ndainties of the woods. As hunting formed his constant occupation, his\nson began early to emulate his father in the same employment, and would\ntake his bow and arrows, and exert his skill in trying to kill birds and\nsquirrels. The greatest impediment he met with, was the coldness and\nseverity of the climate. He often returned home, his little fingers\nbenumbed with cold, and crying with vexation at his disappointment.\nDays, and months, and years passed away, but still the same perpetual\ndepth of snow was seen, covering all the country as with a white cloak.\n\nOne day, after a fruitless trial of his forest skill, the little boy was\nreturning homeward with a heavy heart, when he saw a small red squirrel\ngnawing the top of a pine bur. He had approached within a proper\ndistance to shoot, when the squirrel sat up on its hind legs and thus\naddressed 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 on\nthe 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 and\nsobbing. If she offers you anything to eat, you must push it away with\napparent discontent, and continue crying. In the evening, when your\nfather returns from hunting, he will inquire of your mother what is the\nmatter with you. She will answer that you came home crying, and would\nnot so much as mention the cause to her. All this while you must not\nleave off sobbing. At last your father will say, 'My son, why is this\nunnecessary grief? Tell me the cause. You know I am a spirit, and that\nnothing is impossible for me to perform.' You must then answer him, and\nsay that you are sorry to see the snow continually on the ground, and\nask him if he could not cause it to melt, so that we might have\nperpetual summer. Say it in a supplicating way, and tell him this is the\ncause 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 endeavours.' 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 could\nbe. His head was enormously large; he had such a queer set of teeth, and\nno arms. They wondered how he could kill animals. But the secret was\nsoon revealed. He was a great Manito. He invited them to pass the night,\nto 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 the\nnight, and they conversed on different subjects. The Manito told the\nFisher that he would accomplish his object, but that it would probably\ncost him his life. He gave them his advice, directed them how to act,\nand described a certain road which they must follow, and they would\nthereby 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 that\nhad been given him, which he presented to his friend. They pursued their\nway, and travelled twenty days more before they got to the place which\nthe Manito had told them of. It was a most lofty mountain. They rested\non its highest peak to fill their pipes and refresh themselves. Before\nsmoking, they made the customary ceremony, pointing to the heavens, the\nfour winds, the earth, and the zenith; in the mean time, speaking in a\nloud voice, addressed the Great Spirit, hoping that their object would\nbe 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 the 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[13] 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 birds,\nwho descended in whole flocks through the opening which they had made.\nThe warm air of those regions also rushed down through the opening, and\nspread 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 blow,\nand only a part descended; but the ends were so mangled, that, wherever\nit prevails among the lower inhabitants, it is always sickly.[14]\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 all\nhis 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 the\ntotems[15] of his ancestors. He claimed relationship, and told them to\ndesist, which they only did at the approach of night. He then came down\nto try and find an opening in the celestial plain, by which he might\ndescend to the earth. But he could find none. At last, becoming faint\nfrom the loss of blood from the wound on his tail, he laid himself down\ntowards the north of the plain, and, stretching out his limbs, said, \"I\nhave fulfilled my promise to my son, though it has cost me my life; but\nI die satisfied in the idea that I have done so much good, not only for\nhim, but for my fellow-beings. Hereafter I will be a sign to the\ninhabitants below for ages to come, who will venerate my name for having\nsucceeded in procuring the varying seasons. They will now have from\neight 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\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[11] There is a group of stars in the Northern hemisphere which the\nOdjibwas call _Ojeeg Annung_, or the Fisher Stars. It is believed to be\nidentical with the group of the Plough. They relate the following tale\nrespecting it.\n\n[12] This term is used, in these tales, as synonymous with Chippewa.\n\n[13] Baskets, or cages.\n\n[14] The idea here indicated is among the peculiar notions of these\ntribes, and is grafted in the forms of their language, which will be\npointed out in the progress of these researches.\n\n[15] Family arms, or armorial mark.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CELESTIAL SISTERS.\n\nA SHAWNEE TALE.\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 to\npenetrate, and no track made by the numerous kinds of birds and beasts\nwhich 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 the\nmagic ring, striking, as they did so, a shining ball as we strike the\ndrum. Waupee gazed upon their graceful forms and motions from his place\nof concealment. He admired them all, but was most pleased with the\nyoungest. Unable longer to restrain his admiration, he rushed out and\nendeavoured to seize her. But the sisters, with the quickness of birds,\nthe moment they descried the form of a man, leaped back into the basket\nand 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 an\nopossum. He had not waited long, when he saw the wicker car descend, and\nheard the same sweet music. They commenced the same sportive dance, and\nseemed even more beautiful and graceful than before. He crept slowly\ntowards 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 show\nus how the game is played by mortals.\" \"Oh no!\" the youngest replied;\n\"quick, let us ascend.\" And all joining in a chant, they rose out of\nsight.\n\nThe White Hawk returned to his own form again, and walked sorrowfully\nback to his lodge. But the night seemed a very long one, and he went\nback betimes the next day. He reflected upon the sort of plan to follow\nto secure 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\nWhite Hawk arose, and he clasped his prize in his arms. The other eleven\nsprang to their basket and were drawn up to the skies.\n\nWaupee exerted all his skill to please his bride and win her affections.\nHe wiped the tears from her eyes. He related his adventures in the\nchase. He dwelt upon the charms of life on the earth. He was incessant\nin his attentions, and picked out the way for her to walk as he led her\ngently towards his lodge. He felt his heart glow with joy as she entered\nit, and 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. Waupee's wife was a daughter\nof one of the stars, and as the scenes of earth began to pall upon her\nsight, she sighed to revisit her father. But she was obliged to hide\nthese feelings from her husband. She remembered the charm that would\ncarry her up, and took occasion, while the White Hawk was engaged in\nthe chase, to construct a wicker basket, which she kept concealed. In\nthe mean time she collected such rarities from the earth as she thought\nwould please her father, as well as the most dainty kinds of food. When\nall was in readiness, she went out one day, while Waupee was absent, to\nthe charmed ring, taking her little son with her. As soon as they got\ninto the car, she commenced her song and the basket rose. As the song\nwas wafted by the wind, it caught her husband's ear. It was a voice\nwhich he well knew, and he instantly ran to the prairie. But he could\nnot reach 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 he\nfound no relief. He mourned his wife's loss sorely, but his son's still\nmore. In the mean time his wife had reached her home in the stars, and\nalmost forgot, in the blissful employments there, that she had left a\nhusband on the earth. She was reminded of this by the presence of her\nson, who, as he grew up, became anxious to visit the scene of his birth.\nHis grandfather said to his daughter one day, \"Go, my child, and take\nyour son down to his father, and ask him to come up and live with us.\nBut tell him to bring along a specimen of each kind of bird and animal\nhe kills in the chase.\" She accordingly took the boy and descended. The\nWhite Hawk, who was ever near the enchanted spot, heard her voice as she\ncame down the sky. His heart beat with impatience as he saw her form and\nthat of his son, and they were soon clasped in his arms.\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 the\nspecies; 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 Star\nChief invited all his people to a feast, and, when they had assembled,\nhe proclaimed aloud, that each one might take of the earthly gifts such\nas he liked best. A very strange confusion immediately arose. Some chose\na foot, some a wing, some a tail, and some a claw. Those who selected\ntails or claws were changed into animals, and ran off; the others\nassumed the form of birds, and flew away. Waupee chose a white hawk's\nfeather. His wife and son followed his example, when each one became a\nwhite hawk. He spread his wings, and, followed by his wife and son,\ndescended with the other birds to the earth, where his species are still\nto be found.\n\n\n\n\nTAU-WAU-CHEE-HEZKAW;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE WHITE FEATHER.\n\nA SIOUX TALE.\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 produce\na great man, who would wear a white feather, and who would astonish\nevery 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 day,\nand 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 humoured 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 prairie,\nwhere he saw ashes like those at his grandfather's lodge, and\nlodge-poles left standing. He returned and inquired whether his\ngrandfather had put up the poles and made the fire. He was answered no,\nnor did 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 destined\nwearer of the White Feather. You do not yet wear it, but you are worthy\nof it. Return home and take a short nap. You will dream of hearing a\nvoice, which will tell you to rise and smoke. You will see in your dream\na pipe, smoking-sack, and a large white feather. When you awake you\nwill find these articles. Put the feather on your head, and you will\nbecome a great hunter, a great warrior, and a great man, capable of\ndoing anything. As a proof that you will become a great hunter, when you\nsmoke the smoke will turn into pigeons.\" The voice then informed him who\nhe was, and disclosed the true character of his grandfather, who had\nimposed upon him. The voice-spirit then gave him a _vine_, and told him\nhe was of an age to revenge the injuries of his relations. \"When you\nmeet your enemy,\" continued the spirit, \"you will run a race with him.\nHe will not see the vine, because it is enchanted. While you are\nrunning, you will throw it over his head and entangle him, so that you\nwill 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 in\nthe 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 honours, 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 this\nlodge, where he found that his coming had been made known by the _little\nspirits who carry the news_. The giants came out, and gave a cry of joy\nas they saw him coming. When he approached nearer, they began to make\nsport of him, saying, \"Here comes the little man with the white feather,\nwho is to achieve such wonders.\" They, however, spoke very fair to him\nwhen he came up, saying he was a brave man, and would do brave things.\nThis they said to encourage, and the more surely to deceive him. He,\nhowever, 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 CHAUNKEHPEE, 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. He\nwon 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 by\nthe use of his vine, and cutting off the heads of the vanquished. The\nsurvivors acknowledged his power, but prepared secretly to deceive him.\nThey wished him to leave the heads he had cut off, as they believed they\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 decide\nthe 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 into\na male elk. The transformation would take place immediately, when he\nmust 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; said\nshe had travelled a great distance for the purpose of seeing him, and\nbecoming his wife. Now this woman was the sixth giant, who had assumed\nthis disguise; but Tau-Wau-Chee-Hezkaw remained in ignorance of it. Her\nreproaches and her beauty affected him so much, that he wished himself a\nman again, and he at once resumed his natural shape. They sat down\ntogether, and he began to caress her, and make love to her. He finally\nventured to lay his head on her lap and went to sleep. She pushed his\nhead aside at first, for the purpose of trying if he was really asleep;\nand when she was satisfied he was, she took her axe and broke his back.\nShe then assumed her natural shape, which was in the form of the sixth\ngiant, and afterward changed him into a dog, in which degraded form he\nfollowed his enemy to the lodge. He took the white feather from his\nbrow, 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 engage\nhis affections. Each one built herself a lodge at a short distance from\nthe village. The giant, knowing this, and having now obtained the valued\nplume, went immediately to visit them. As he approached, the girls saw\nand recognised the feather. The eldest sister prepared her lodge with\ngreat care and parade, so as to attract the eye. The younger, supposing\nthat he was a man of sense, and would not be enticed by mere parade,\ntouched nothing in her lodge, but left it as it ordinarily was. The\neldest went out to meet him, and invited him in. He accepted her\ninvitation, and made her his wife. The younger invited the enchanted dog\ninto her lodge, and made him a good bed, and treated him with as much\nattention 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 a\nstone, which at once turned into a beaver. As soon as the dog left the\nplace, the giant went to the river, and observing the same manner, drew\nout a stone, and had the satisfaction of seeing it transformed into a\nbeaver. Tying it to his belt, he carried it home, and, as is customary,\nthrew it down at the door of the lodge before he entered. After being\nseated a short time, he told his wife to bring in his belt or hunting\ngirdle. She did so, and returned with it, with nothing tied to it but a\n_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 abundance.\nShe set out while her husband went to hunt. As soon as they had\ndeparted, 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 water.\nAfter 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 made\na sign to hand it to the giant first, which was done, but nothing\neffected. He then look 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, where\nthe 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 of\nbuffalo. They killed as many as they pleased, and enjoyed a grand\nfestival, in honour of his triumph over the Giants.\n\nHaving accomplished their labour, the White Feather got his wife to ask\nher father's permission to go with him on a visit to his grandfather. He\nreplied to this solicitation, that a woman must follow her husband into\nwhatever quarter of the world he may choose to go.\n\nThe young man then placed the white feather in his frontlet, and, taking\nhis war-club in his hand, led the way into the forest, followed by his\nfaithful wife.\n\n\n\n\nPEBOAN AND SEEGWUN.\n\nAN\n\nALLEGORY OF THE SEASONS.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nAn old man was sitting alone in his lodge, by the side of a frozen\nstream. It was the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. He\nappeared very old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and\nhe trembled in every joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he\nheard nothing but the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the\nnew-fallen snow.\n\nOne day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached and\nentered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth, his\neyes sparkled with animation, and a smile played upon his lips. He\nwalked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath\nof sweet grass, in place of a warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch\nof 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 see.\nLet 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 leaves,\nhanded it to his guest. When this ceremony was concluded they began to\nspeak.\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. The\nleaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them away.\nThe birds get up from the water, and fly to a distant land. The animals\nhide themselves from my breath, and the very ground becomes as hard as\nflint.\"\n\n\"I shake my ringlets,\" rejoined the young man, \"and warm showers of soft\nrain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of the\nearth, 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 to\nsing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the door,\nand the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the vernal\nbreeze.\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.[16] 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,[17] a\nsmall white flower, with a pink border, which is one of the earliest\nspecies of Northern plants.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[16] Winter.\n\n[17] The Claytonia Virginica.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RED LOVER.\n\nA CHIPPEWA TALE.\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 performed\nwith it. His counsel was sought as much as his strength was feared, so\nthat he came to be equally regarded as a hunter, a warrior, and a\ncounsellor. He had now passed the meridian of his days, and the term\nAKKEE-WAIZEE, i. e., one who has been long on the earth, was applied to\nhim.\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 other\nmerits 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 favourable\nnotice of the daughter, but were by no means satisfactory to the father,\nwho 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 choicest\ngift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this boon, who\nwere as young, as active, and as ardent as yourself. Some of these\npersons 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 marks\nof 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 of\nvictory? Have _you_ ever proved your fortitude by suffering protracted\npain, enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great fatigue? Is your\n_name_ known beyond the humble limits of your native village? Go, then,\nyoung man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none but the brave that\ncan ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of Wawanosh. Think\nnot my warrior blood shall mingle with the humble mark of the\nAwasees[18]--fit totem for fishermen!\"\n\nThe intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that should\nrender him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the attempt. He\ncalled together several of his young companions and equals in years, and\nimparted to them his design of conducting an expedition against the\nenemy, and requested their assistance. Several embraced the proposal\nimmediately; others were soon brought to acquiesce; and, before ten suns\nset, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party of young warriors,\nall eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle. Each\nwarrior was armed, according to the custom of the period, with a bow and\na quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper. He carried a sack or\nwallet, provided with a small quantity of parched and pounded corn,\nmixed with pemmican or maple sugar. He was furnished with a PUGGAMAUGUN,\nor war-club of hard wood, fastened to a girdle of deer skin, and a stone\nor copper knife. In addition to this, some carried the ancient\n_shemagun_, or lance, a smooth pole about a fathom in length, with a\njavelin of flint, firmly tied on with deer's sinews. Thus equipped, and\neach warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy, and ornamented with\nappropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot appointed for the\nwar-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 youths\nassembled, with their tall and graceful leader, distinguished by the\nfeathers of the bald eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright fire of\npine wood blazed upon the green. He led his men several times around\nthis fire, with a measured and solemn chant. Then suddenly halting, the\nwar-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately began. An old man,\nsitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum, while several\nof the elder warriors shook their rattles, and \"ever and anon\" made the\nwoods re-echo with their yells. Each warrior chanted alternately the\nverse of a song, all the rest joining in chorus.\n\n     FIRST VOICE.\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\n     SECOND VOICE.\n\n     'Tis fame my soul desires,\n       By deeds of martial strife:\n     Give--give me warlike fires,\n       Or take--ah take my life.\n\n     THIRD VOICE.\n\n     The deer a while may go\n       Unhunted o'er the heath,\n     For now I seek a nobler foe,\n       And prize a nobler death.\n\n     FOURTH VOICE.\n\n     Lance and quiver, club and bow,\n       Now alone attract my sight;\n     I will go where warriors go,\n       I will fight where warriors fight.\n\nThus they continued the dance, with short intermissions, for two\nsuccessive days and nights. Sometimes the village seer, who led the\nceremony, would embrace the occasion of a pause to address them with\nwords of encouragement.\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 dance,\nand the warriors renewed their gesticulations, and stamped upon the\nground as if they were trampling their enemies under their feet.\n\n     FIFTH VOICE.\n\n     Now my heart with valour burns,\n       I my lance in fury shake;\n     He who falters, he who turns,\n       Give him fagot, fire, and stake.\n\n     SIXTH VOICE.\n\n     See my visage scarred and red--\n       See my brows with trophies bright--\n     Such the brows that warriors dread,\n       Such the trophies of the fight.\n\nAt length the prophet uttered his final prediction of success; and the\nwarriors dropping off, one by one, from the fire, each sought his way to\nthe place 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 implied\nby his language. He averred that he never could be happy, either with or\nwithout her, until he had proved to the whole tribe the strength of his\nheart, which is the Indian term for courage. He said that his dreams had\nnot been propitious, but he should not cease to invoke the power of the\nGreat Spirit. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment,\nwhich she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they parted.\n\nAll she ever heard from her lover after this interview was brought by\none of his successful warriors, who said that he had distinguished\nhimself by the most heroic bravery, but, at the close of the fight, he\nhad received an arrow in his breast. The enemy fled, leaving many of\ntheir warriors dead on the field. On examining the wound, it was\nperceived to be beyond their power to cure. They carried him towards\nhome a day's journey, but he languished and expired in the arms of his\nfriends. From the moment the report was received, no smile was ever seen\nin the once happy lodge of Wawanosh. His daughter pined away by day and\nby night. Tears and sighs, sorrow and lamentation, were heard\ncontinually. 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.\n\nIt was not long before a small bird of beautiful plumage flew upon the\ntree under which she usually sat, and with its sweet and artless notes\nseemed to respond to her voice. It was a bird of strange character, such\nas had not before been observed. It came every day and sang, remaining\nuntil dark. Her fond imagination soon led her to suppose it was the\nspirit of her lover, and her visits were repeated with greater\nfrequency. She passed her time in fasting, and singing her plaintive\nsongs. Thus she pined away, until that death she so fervently desired\ncame to her relief. After her decease the bird was never more seen, and\nit became a popular opinion that this mysterious bird had flown away\nwith her spirit.\n\nBut bitter tears of regret fell in the lodge of Wawanosh. Too late he\nregretted his false pride and his harsh treatment of the noble youth.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[18] Catfish.\n\n\n\n\nIAMO;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE UNDYING HEAD.\n\nAN OTTOWA TALE.\n\n\nIn a remote part of the north lived a man and his only sister, who had\nnever seen human being. Seldom, if ever, had the man any cause to go\nfrom home; for, as his wants demanded food, he had only to go a little\ndistance from the lodge, and there, in some particular spot, place his\narrows, with their barbs in the ground. Telling his sister where they\nhad been placed, every morning she would go in search, and never fail of\nfinding each struck through the heart of a deer. She had then only to\ndrag them into the lodge and prepare their food. Thus she lived till she\nattained womanhood, when one day her brother, whose name was Iamo, said\nto her, \"Sister, the time is near at hand when you will be ill. Listen\nto my advice. If you do not, it will probably be the cause of my death.\nTake the implements with which we kindle our fires. Go some distance\nfrom our lodge, and build a separate fire. When you are in want of food,\nI will tell you where to find it. You must cook for yourself, and I will\nfor myself. When you are ill, do not attempt to come near the lodge, or\nbring any of the utensils you use. Be sure always to fasten to your belt\nthe implements you need, for you do not know when the time will come. As\nfor myself, I must do the best I can.\" His sister promised to obey him\nin 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 forgot\nthe belt. Afraid to return, she stood for some time thinking. Finally\nshe decided to enter the lodge and get it. For, thought she, my brother\nis not at home, and I will stay but a moment to catch hold of it. She\nwent back. Running in suddenly, she caught hold of it, and was coming\nout when her brother came in sight. He knew what was the matter. \"Oh,\"\nhe said, \"did I not tell you to take care? But now you have killed me.\"\nShe was going on her way, but her brother said to her, \"What can you do\nthere now? the accident has happened. Go in, and stay where you have\nalways stayed. And what will become of you? You have killed 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 to\nit. It contains all my medicines, and my war-plumes, and my paints of\nall colours. 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, which\nyou must open at one end. Then hang it up in its former place. Do not\nforget my bow and arrows. One of the last you will take to procure food.\nThe remainder tie to my sack, and then hang it up, so that I can look\ntowards the door. Now and then I will speak to you, but not often.\" His\nsister again promised to obey.\n\nIn a little time his breast was affected. \"Now,\" said he, \"take the club\nand 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 all\nher courage, she gave the blow and cut off the head. \"Now,\" said the\nhead, \"place me where I told you.\" And fearfully she obeyed it in all\nits commands. Retaining its animation, it looked around the lodge as\nusual, and it would command its sister to go to such places as it\nthought would procure for her the flesh of different animals she needed.\nOne day the head said, \"The time is not distant when I shall be freed\nfrom this situation, but I shall have to undergo many sore evils. So the\nSuperior 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 none\nin the village could overhear or find out the direction they intended to\ngo. Though their drum was heard, yet that was a common occurrence.\nHaving ended the usual formalities, he told them how favourable his\ndreams were, and that he had called them together to know if they would\naccompany him in a war excursion. They all answered they would. The\nthird brother from the eldest, noted for his oddities, coming up with\nhis war-club when his brother had ceased speaking, jumped up. \"Yes,\"\nsaid he, \"_I_ will go, and this will be the way I will treat those we\nare going to fight;\" and he struck the post in the centre of the lodge,\nand gave a yell. The others spoke to him, saying, \"Slow, slow,\nMudjikewis, when you are in other people's lodges.\" So he sat down.\nThen, in turn, they took the drum, and sang their songs, and closed with\na feast. The youngest told them not to whisper their intention even to\ntheir wives, but secretly to prepare for their journey. They all\npromised obedience, and Mudjikewis was the first to say 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 way\nI saw snow fall in a dream, so that I could not be tracked.\" And he told\nthem to keep close to each other for fear of losing themselves, as the\nsnow began to fall in very large flakes. Near as they walked, it was\nwith difficulty they could see each other. The snow continued falling\nall that day and the following night. So it was impossible to track\nthem.\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_,[19]\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 will\nserve those whom we are going to fight.\" The leader answered, \"Slow,\nslow, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be thought of so\nlightly.\" Again he fell back and thought to himself, \"What, what: Who\ncan this be he is leading us to?\" He felt fearful, and was silent. Day\nafter day they travelled on, till they came to an extensive plain, on\nthe borders of which human bones were bleaching in the sun. The leader\nspoke. \"They are the bones of those who have gone before us. None has\never yet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate.\" Again Mudjikewis\nbecame restless, and, running forward, gave the accustomed yell.\nAdvancing to a large rock which stood above the ground, he struck it,\nand 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 very great, but the size of the animal\ncaused him plainly to be seen. \"There,\" said the leader, \"it is he to\nwhom I am leading you; here our troubles only will commence, for he is a\nMISHEMOKWA[20] 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 be\nfast asleep, as he was not in the least disturbed by the attempt to\nobtain the belt. All their efforts were in vain, till it came to the one\nnext the youngest. He tried, and the belt moved nearly over the\nmonster's head, but he could get it no farther. Then the youngest one\nand leader made his attempt, and succeeded. Placing it on the back of\nthe oldest, he said, \"Now we must run,\" and off they started. When one\nbecame fatigued with its weight, another would relieve him. Thus they\nran till they had passed the bones of all former warriors, and were some\ndistance beyond, when, looking back, they saw the monster slowly rising.\nHe stood some time before he missed his wampum. Soon they heard his\ntremendous howl, like distant thunder, slowly filling all the sky; and\nthen 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 however\nkept the belt, exchanging it from one to another, and encouraging each\nother. But he gained on them fast. \"Brothers,\" said the leader, \"has\nnever any one of you, when fasting, dreamed of some friendly spirit who\nwould aid you as a guardian?\" A dead silence followed. \"Well,\" said he,\n\"fasting, I dreamed of being in danger of instant death, when I saw a\nsmall lodge, with smoke curling from its top. An old man lived in it,\nand I dreamed he helped me. And may it be verified soon,\" he said,\nrunning forward and giving the peculiar yell, and a howl as if the\nsounds came from the depths of his stomach, and which is called\n_Checaudum_. Getting upon a piece of rising ground, behold! a lodge,\nwith smoke curling from its top, appeared. This gave them all new\nstrength, and they ran forward and entered it. The leader spoke to the\nold man who sat in the lodge, saying, \"_Nemesho_,[21] help us. We claim\nyour protection, for the great bear will kill us.\" \"Sit down and eat, my\ngrandchildren,\" said the old man. \"Who is a great Manito?\" said he,\n\"there is none but me; but let me look,\" and he opened the door of the\nlodge, when lo! at a little distance he saw the enraged animal coming\non, with slow but powerful leaps. He closed the door. \"Yes,\" said he,\n\"_he_ is indeed a great Manito. My grandchildren, you will be the cause\nof my losing my life. You asked my protection, and I granted it; so now,\ncome what may, I will protect you. When the bear arrives at the door,\nyou must run out of the other end of the lodge.\" Then putting his hand\nto the side of the lodge where he sat, he brought out a bag, which he\nopened. Taking out two small black dogs, he placed them before him.\n\"These are the ones I use when I fight,\" said he; and he commenced\npatting, with both hands, the sides of one of them, and he began to\nswell out, so that he soon filled the lodge by his bulk. And he had\ngreat strong teeth. When he attained his full size he growled, and from\nthat moment, as from instinct, he jumped out at the door and met the\nbear, who in another leap would have reached the lodge. A terrible\ncombat ensued. The skies rang with the howls of the fierce monsters. The\nremaining dog soon took the field. The brothers, at the onset, took the\nadvice of the old man, and escaped through the opposite side of the\nlodge. They had not proceeded far before they heard the dying cry of one\nof the dogs, and soon after of the other. \"Well,\" said the leader, \"the\nold man will share their fate; so run, run, he will soon be after us.\"\nThey started with fresh vigour, for they had received food from the old\nman; but very soon the bear came in sight, and again was fast gaining\nupon them. Again the leader asked the brothers if they could do nothing\nfor their safety. All were silent. The leader, running forward, did as\nbefore. \"I dreamed,\" he cried, \"that, being in great trouble, an old man\nhelped me who was a Manito. We shall soon see his lodge.\" Taking\ncourage, they still went on. After going a short distance they saw the\nlodge of the old Manito. They entered immediately and claimed his\nprotection, telling him a Manito was after them. The old man, setting\nmeat before them, said, \"Eat. Who is a Manito? there is no Manito but\nme. There is none whom I fear.\" And the earth trembled as the monster\nadvanced. The old man opened the door and saw him coming. He shut it\nslowly, and said, \"Yes, my grandchildren, you have brought trouble upon\nme.\" Procuring his medicine sack, he took out his small war-clubs of\nblack stone, and told the young men to run through the other side of the\nlodge. As he handled the clubs they became very large, and the old man\nstepped out just as the bear reached the door. Then striking him with\none of the clubs, it broke in pieces. The bear stumbled. Renewing the\nattempt with the other war-club, that also was broken, but the bear\nfell senseless. Each blow the old man gave him sounded like a clap of\nthunder, and the howls of the bear ran along till they filled the\nheavens.\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 the\nfate 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 said.\nComing to the lake, they saw the canoe with the 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 they\nwere drawn back by it, and all their efforts to reach it were vain.\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 by\nthe blow. But before Mudjikewis could renew it, the monster disgorged\nall the water he had drank, with a force which sent the canoe with great\nvelocity to the opposite shore. Instantly leaving the canoe, again they\nfled, and on they went till they were completely exhausted. The earth\nagain shook, and soon they saw the monster hard after them. Their\nspirits drooped, and they felt discouraged. The leader exerted himself,\nby actions and words, to cheer them up; and once more he asked them if\nthey thought of nothing, or could do nothing for their rescue; and, as\nbefore, all were silent. \"Then,\" he said, \"this is the last time I can\napply to my guardian spirit. Now if we do not succeed, our fates are\ndecided.\" He ran forward, invoking his spirit with great earnestness,\nand gave the yell. \"We shall soon arrive,\" said he to his brothers, \"to\nthe place where my last guardian spirit dwells. In him I place great\nconfidence. Do not, do not be afraid, or your limbs will be fear-bound.\nWe shall soon reach his lodge. Run, run,\" he cried.\n\nReturning now to Iamo, he had passed all the time in the same condition\nwe left him, the head directing its sister, in order to procure food,\nwhere to place the magic arrows, and speaking at long intervals. One day\nthe sister saw the eyes of the head brighten, as if through pleasure. At\nlast it spoke. \"Oh, sister,\" it said, \"in what a pitiful situation you\nhave been the cause of placing me. Soon, very soon, a party of young\nmen will arrive and apply to me for aid; but, alas! how can I give what\nI _would_ have done with so much pleasure. Nevertheless, take two\narrows, and place them where you have been in the habit of placing the\nothers, and have meat prepared and cooked before they arrive. When you\nhear them coming and calling on my name, go out and say, 'Alas! it is\nlong ago that an accident befell him. I was the cause of it.' If they\nstill come near, ask them in and set meat before them. And now you must\nfollow my directions strictly. When the bear is near, go out and meet\nhim. You will take my medicine sack, bows and arrows, and my head. You\nmust then untie the sack, and spread out before you my paints of all\ncolours, my war eagle feathers, my tufts of dried hair, and whatever\nelse it contains. As the bear approaches, you will take all these\narticles, one by one, and say to him, 'This is my deceased brother's\npaint,' and so on with all the other articles, throwing each of them as\nfar from you as you can. The virtues contained in them will cause him to\ntotter; and, to complete his destruction, you will take my head, and\nthat too you will cast as far off as you can, crying aloud, 'See, this\nis my deceased brother's head.' He will then fall senseless. By this\ntime the young men will have eaten, and you will call them to your\nassistance. You must then cut the carcass into pieces, yes, into _small_\npieces, and scatter them to the four winds; for, unless you do this, he\nwill again revive.\" She promised that all should be done as she said.\nShe had only time to prepare the meat, when the voice of the leader was\nheard calling upon Iamo for aid. The woman went out and said as her\nbrother had directed. But the war party, being closely pursued, came up\nto the lodge. She invited them in, and placed the meat before them.\nWhile they were eating they heard the bear approaching. Untying the\nmedicine sack and taking the head, she had all in readiness for his\napproach. When he came up she did as she had been told; and, before she\nhad expended the paints and feathers, the bear began to totter, but,\nstill advancing, came close to the woman. Saying as she was commanded,\nshe then took the head, and cast it as far from her as she could. As it\nrolled along the ground, the blood, excited by the feelings of the head\nin this terrible scene, gushed from the nose and mouth. The bear,\ntottering, soon fell with a tremendous noise. Then she cried for help,\nand the young men came rushing out, having partially regained their\nstrength and spirits.\n\nMudjikewis, stepping up, gave a yell and struck him a blow upon the\nhead. This he repeated till it seemed like a mass of brains; while the\nothers, as quick as possible, cut him into very small pieces, which they\nthen scattered in every direction. While thus employed, happening to\nlook around where they had thrown the meat, wonderful to behold! they\nsaw starting up and running off in every direction small black bears,\nsuch as are seen at the present day. The country was soon overspread\nwith these black animals. And it was from this monster that the present\nrace of bears 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 used and the\nhead, placed them again in the sack. But the head did not speak again,\nprobably from the effects of its great exertion to overcome the monster.\n\nHaving spent so much time and traversed so vast a country in their\nflight, the young men gave up the idea of ever returning to their own\ncountry, and game being plenty, they determined to remain where they now\nwere. One day they moved off some distance from the lodge for the\npurpose of hunting, having left the wampum with the woman. They were\nvery successful, and amused themselves, as all young men do when alone,\nby talking 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,\ntake food to our sister.\" They went, and requested the head. She told\nthem to take it, and they took it to their hunting-grounds and tried to\namuse it, but only at times did they see its eyes beam with pleasure.\nOne day, while busy in their encampment, they were unexpectedly attacked\nby unknown Indians. The skirmish was long contested and bloody. Many of\ntheir foes were slain, but still they were thirty to one. The young men\nfought desperately till they were all killed. The attacking party then\nretreated to a heighth of ground, to muster their men, and to count the\nnumber of missing and slain. One of their young men had strayed away,\nand, in endeavouring to overtake them, came to the place where the head\nwas hung up. Seeing that alone retain animation, he eyed it for some\ntime with fear and surprise. However, he took it down and opened the\nsack, and was much pleased to see the beautiful feathers, one of which\nhe 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 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 had been waiting for the young\nmen to bring back the head; till at last, getting impatient, she went in\nsearch of it. The young men she found lying within short distances of\neach other, dead, and covered with wounds. Various other bodies lay\nscattered in different directions around them. She searched for the\nhead and sack, but they were nowhere to be found. She raised her voice\nand wept, and blackened her face. Then she walked in different\ndirections, till she came to the place from whence the head had been\ntaken. There she found the magic bow and arrows, where the young men,\nignorant of their qualities had left them. She thought to herself that\nshe would find her brother's head, and came to a piece of rising ground,\nand there saw some of his paints and feathers. These she carefully put\nup, and hung upon the branch of a tree till her return.\n\nAt dusk she arrived at the first lodge of a very extensive village. Here\nshe used a charm, common among Indians when they wish to meet with a\nkind reception. On applying to the old man and woman of the lodge, she\nwas kindly received. She made known her errand. The old man promised to\naid her, and told her that the head was hung up before the council fire,\nand that the chiefs of the village, with their young men, kept watch\nover it continually. The former are considered as Manitoes. She said she\nonly wished to see it, and would be satisfied if she could only get to\nthe door of the lodge. She knew she had not sufficient power to take it\nby force. \"Come with me,\" said the Indian, \"I will take you there.\"\nThey went, and they took their seats near the door. The council lodge\nwas filled with warriors, amusing themselves with games, and constantly\nkeeping up a fire to smoke the head, as they said, to make dry meat.\nThey saw the head move, and not knowing what to make of it, one spoke\nand said, \"Ha! ha! it is beginning to feel the effects of the smoke.\"\nThe sister looked up from the door, and her eyes met those of her\nbrother, and tears rolled down the cheeks of the head. \"Well,\" said the\nchief, \"I thought we would make you do something at last. Look! look at\nit--shedding tears,\" said he to those around him; and they all laughed\nand passed their jokes upon it. The chief, looking around and observing\nthe woman, after some time said to the man who came with her, \"Who have\nyou got there? I have never seen that woman before in our village.\"\n\"Yes,\" replied the man, \"you have seen her; she is a relation of mine,\nand seldom goes out. She stays in my lodge, and asked me to allow her to\ncome with me to this place.\" In the centre of the lodge sat one of those\nyoung men who are always forward, and fond of boasting and displaying\nthemselves before others. \"Why,\" said he, \"I have seen her often, and it\nis to his lodge I go almost every night to court her.\" All the others\nlaughed and continued their games. The young man did not know he was\ntelling a lie to the woman's advantage, who by that means escaped.\n\nShe returned to the man's lodge, and immediately set out for her own\ncountry. Coming to the spot where the bodies of her adopted brothers\nlay, she placed them together, their feet towards _the east_. Then\ntaking an axe which she had, she cast it up into the air, crying out,\n\"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 it is our sister\nwho has brought us to life?\" The young men took the bodies of their\nenemies and _burned_ them. Soon after, the woman went to procure wives\nfor them, in a distant country, they knew not where; but she returned\nwith ten young females, which she gave to the young men, beginning with\nthe eldest. 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 told them that the\nwomen must now take turns in going to her brother's head every night,\ntrying to untie it. They all said they would do so with pleasure. The\neldest made the first attempt, and with a rushing noise she fled through\nthe 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 ten nights now, the smoke had not\nascended, but filled the lodge and drove them out. This last night they\nwere all driven out, and the young 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 where\nthe black body of Iamo lay. His sister commenced cutting the neck part,\nfrom which the head had been severed. She cut so deep as to cause it to\nbleed; and the others who were present, by rubbing the body and applying\nmedicines, expelled the blackness. In the mean time the one who brought\nit, by cutting the neck of the head, caused that also to bleed.\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 to\nall 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 beautiful,\nas 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 assigned\ndifferent stations in the invisible world. Only Mudjikewis's place was,\nhowever, named. He was to direct the _west wind_, hence generally called\nKabeyun, there to remain for ever. They were commanded, as they had it\nin their power, to do good to the inhabitants of the earth; and\nforgetting their sufferings in procuring the wampum, to give all things\nwith a liberal hand. And they were also commanded that it should also be\nheld by them _sacred_; those grains or shells of the pale hue to be\nemblematic of peace, while those of the darker hue would lead to evil\nand 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       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome of the incidents of this tale furnish references to both Occidental\nas well as Oriental customs, which are appropriate subjects of comment.\nThis is not the place to enter into their discussion. It may be\nsufficient to mention, that the burning of the dead is an Eastern, and\nnot an Algic custom. Burying with the feet towards the east is common to\nthe present and to many Eastern tribes; but there are tumuli or barrows\nin the Northwest, in which the bones lie north and south, indicating its\noccupancy by tribes of a prior race. The idea of the immortality of man\nis clearly indicated; but an idea more clearly shadowed forth here, than\nperhaps in any other of these fictions, is the necessity of a great boon\nor Saviour to render men happy. This is placed symbolically in this tale\nin wampum, the most sacred of all objects known to these tribes, and its\nacquirement is the work of the Indian Mudjikewis or heir. It is not\npresumable that they possess, or ever possessed, the true idea of the\nSaviour of mankind, as revealed by Holy Writ. The allusions are thought\nrather to show the original tendency of the human mind, unenlightened\nand uninstructed, to seek for some moral or physical panacea which is\nto introduce happiness to the race. Such an idea appears compatible with\nthe condition of the erratic nations immediately at, and posterior to,\nthe great biblical era of the introduction of new languages, and the\nconsequent dispersion of men over the world. For it is rather to this\nera, than to the comparatively newer one of the fall of the Israelitish\nkingdom, that we are to look as the _first_ point of historical and\nphilological comparison. It is hence that the Hebrew, the initial\nlanguage, becomes so important in the investigation. We may, indeed,\nregard it as furnishing a key to the principles of grammatical utterance\nin the East.\n\nIt has been observed, that the custom of female separation, upon the\nviolation of which the present tale is founded, is a Hebrew custom,\nidentified with the written institutions of the Pentateuch. A lodge of\nseparation is established at these periods by all the Algic tribes.\nNothing is better attested, by those who have given attention to this\nsubject, than that everything touched by the female during this period\nis polluted and rendered unclean. To cross her pathway even, is to fall\nunder the bane of impurity; and a hunter or a warrior who should thus\ntrespass, would feel his hopes blighted and his prospect of success\ndestroyed.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[19] War-cry.\n\n[20] A she-bear--also a male having the ferocity of a she-bear.\n\n[21] My grandfather.\n\n\n\n\nMON-DAW-MIN;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN.\n\nAN ODJIBWA TALE.\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 contented\ndisposition. He was always thankful to the Great Spirit for everything\nhe received. The same disposition was inherited by his eldest son, who\nhad now arrived at the proper age to undertake the ceremony of the\nKe-ig-uish-im-o-win, or fast, to see what kind of a spirit would be his\nguide and guardian through life. Wunzh, for this was his name, had been\nan obedient boy from his infancy, and was of a pensive, thoughtful, and\nmild disposition, so that he was beloved by the whole family. As soon as\nthe first indications of spring appeared, they built him the customary\nlittle lodge, at a retired spot some distance from their own, where he\nwould not be disturbed during this solemn rite. In the mean time he\nprepared himself, and immediately went into it and commenced his fast.\nThe first few days he amused himself in the mornings by walking in the\nwoods and over the mountains, examining the early plants and flowers,\nand in this way prepared himself to enjoy his sleep, and, at the same\ntime, stored his mind with pleasant ideas for his dreams. While he\nrambled through the woods, he felt a strong desire to know how the\nplants, herbs, and berries grew, without any aid from man, and why it\nwas that some species were good to eat, and others possessed medicinal\nor poisonous juices. He recalled these thoughts to mind after he became\ntoo languid to walk about, and had confined himself strictly to the\nlodge; he wished he could dream of something that would prove a benefit\nto his father and family, and to all others. \"True!\" he thought, \"the\nGreat Spirit made all things, and it is to him that we owe our lives.\nBut could he not make it easier for us to get our food, than by hunting\nanimals and taking fish? I must try to find out this in my visions.\"\n\nOn the third day he became weak and faint, and kept his bed. He fancied,\nwhile thus lying, that he saw a handsome young man coming down from the\nsky and advancing towards him. He was richly and gayly dressed, having\non a great many garments of green and yellow colours, but differing in\ntheir deeper or lighter shades. He had a plume of waving feathers on his\nhead, and all his motions were graceful.\n\n\"I am sent to you, my friend,\" said the celestial visiter, \"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 visiter 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, \"To-morrow 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 youth\nwas very faint in body, but grew stronger in mind at every contest, and\nwas determined to prevail or perish in the attempt. He exerted his\nutmost powers, and after the contest had been continued the usual time,\nthe stranger ceased his efforts and declared himself conquered. For the\nfirst time he entered the lodge, and sitting down beside the youth, he\nbegan to deliver his instructions to him, telling him in what manner he\nshould proceed to take advantage of his victory.\n\n\"You have won your desires of the Great Spirit,\" said the stranger. \"You\nhave 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; and,\nas soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off my garments\nand throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it soft, and\nbury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body in the\nearth, and do not disturb it, but come occasionally to visit the place,\nto see whether I have come to life, and be careful never to let the\ngrass or weeds grow on my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh earth.\nIf you follow my instructions, you will accomplish your object of doing\ngood to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I now teach\nyou.\" 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\nfavour 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-visiter 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 him,\nand that exertion had renewed his strength and fortified his courage. He\ngrasped his angelic antagonist with supernatural strength, threw him\ndown, took from him his beautiful garments and plume, and finding him\ndead, immediately buried him on the spot, taking all the precautions he\nhad been told of, and being very confident, at the same time, that his\nfriend would again come to life. He then returned to his father's lodge,\nand partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him. But he\nnever for a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited\nit throughout the spring, and weeded out the grass, and kept the ground\nin a soft and pliant state. Very soon he saw the tops of the green\nplumes coming through the ground; and the more careful he was to obey\nhis instructions in keeping the ground in order, the faster they grew.\nHe was, however, careful to conceal the exploit from his father. Days\nand weeks had passed in this way. The summer was now drawing towards a\nclose, when one day, after a long absence in hunting, Wunzh invited his\nfather to follow him to the quiet and lonesome spot of his former fast.\nThe lodge had been removed, and the weeds kept from growing on the\ncircle where it stood, but in its place stood a tall and graceful\nplant, with bright-coloured silken hair, surmounted with nodding plumes\nand stately leaves, and golden clusters on each side. \"It is my friend,\"\nshouted the lad; \"it is the friend of all mankind. It is\n_Mondawmin_.[22] We need no longer rely on hunting alone; for, as long\nas this gift is cherished and taken care of, the ground itself will give\nus a living.\" He then pulled an ear. \"See, my father,\" said he, \"this is\nwhat I fasted for. The Great Spirit has listened to my voice, and sent\nus something new,[23] and henceforth our people will not alone depend\nupon 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, directed\nhim how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin became\nbrown, while all the milk was retained in the grain. The whole family\nthen united in a feast on the newly-grown ears, expressing gratitude to\nthe Merciful Spirit who gave it. So corn came into the world, and has\never since been preserved.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[22] The Algic name for corn. The word is manifestly a trinary compound\nfrom _monedo_, spirit; _min_, a grain or berry; and _iaw_, the verb\nsubstantive.\n\n[23] The Zea mays, it will be recollected, is indigenous to America, and\nwas unknown in Europe before 1495.\n\n\n\n\nPEETA KWAY;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE TEMPEST.\n\nAN ALGIC TALE.\n\n\nThere once lived a woman called Monedo Kway[24] 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 in\na 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 uttering\na word. He then thought, \"I wish she would give me her daughter.\" Very\nsoon he understood the mother's thoughts in reply. \"Give you my\ndaughter?\" thought she; \"_you_! No, indeed, my daughter shall never\nmarry _you_.\" The young man went away and reported the result to his\nuncle. \"Woman without good sense,\" said he, \"who is she keeping her\ndaughter for? Does she think she will marry the Mudjikewis?[25] Proud\nheart! we will try her magic skill, and see whether she can withstand\nour power.\" The pride and haughtiness of the mother was talked of by the\nspirits living on that part of the lake. They met together and\ndetermined to exert their power in humbling her. For this purpose they\nresolved to raise a great storm on the lake. The water began to toss and\nroar, and the tempest became so severe, that the string broke, and the\nbox floated off through the straits down Lake Huron, and struck against\nthe sandy shores at its outlet. The place where it struck was near the\nlodge of a superannuated old spirit called Ishkwon Daimeka, or the\nkeeper of the gate of the lakes. He opened the box and let out the\nbeautiful daughter, took her into his lodge, and married her.\n\nWhen the mother found that her daughter had been blown off by the storm,\nshe raised very loud cries and lamented exceedingly. This she continued\nto do for a long time, and would not be comforted. At length, after two\nor three years, the spirits had pity on her, and determined to raise\nanother storm and bring her back. It was even a greater storm than the\nfirst; and when it began to wash away the ground and encroach on the\nlodge of Ishkwon Daimeka, she leaped into the box, and the waves carried\nher back to the very spot of her mother's lodge on the shore. Monedo\nEqua was overjoyed; but when she opened the box, she found that her\ndaughter's beauty had almost all departed. However, she loved her still\nbecause she was her daughter, and now thought of the young man who had\nmade her the offer of marriage. She sent a formal message to him, but he\nhad altered his mind, for he knew that she had been the wife of another.\n\"_I_ marry your daughter?\" said he; \"_your_ daughter! No, indeed! I\nshall never marry her.\"\n\nThe storm that brought her back was so strong and powerful, that it tore\naway 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 Detroit\nrivers. The old man himself was drowned, and his bones are buried under\nthem. They heard him singing as he was driven off on a portion of his\nlodge; some fragments of his words are still repeated, which show what\nhis thoughts were in the midst of his overthrow.\n\n     ISHKWON DAIMEKA'S LAMENT.\n\n     The waves, the waves, the angry waves,\n       Have borne my bless'd away,\n     And cast me forth all reft and lone,\n       With wrecks of wood and clay.\n\n     My power is gone, my guardian dead,\n       My loved, my cherish'd lost,\n     And every dream of pleasure fled,\n       And every bright hope cross'd.\n\n     I go--I go, a floating ball,\n       A speck of earth at best;\n     But with my dying breath I call\n       On Peeta Kway the bless'd.\n\n     Oh! was it kind in spirits high,\n       Who rule these waters free,\n     To call the vengeance of the sky,\n       And turn its wrath on me?\n\n     Yet shall I triumph; for the storm\n       That sounds my funeral knell,\n     Shall lands, and coasts, and islands form,\n       Where joy and peace shall dwell.\n\n     And every vestige of my lodge,\n       And all my simple store,\n     Shall turn to pastures green and sweet,\n       And many a winding shore.\n\n     There other tribes of men shall dwell,\n       Who serve a purer power,\n     And oft of me the story tell,\n       To while away the hour.\n\n     So shall I live, though now I'm toss'd,\n       A poor, dishonour'd thing,\n     And where one Peeta Kway was lost,\n       A thousand more shall spring.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[24] Female spirit or prophetess.\n\n[25] A term indicative of the heir or successor to the first place in\npower.\n\n\n\n\nMANABOZHO;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE GREAT INCARNATION OF THE NORTH.\n\nAN ALGIC LEGEND.\n\n\n_Introductory Note._--The accounts which the Indians hand down of a\nremarkable personage of miraculous birth, who waged a warfare with\nmonsters, performed the most extravagant and heroic feats, underwent a\ncatastrophe like Jonah's, and survived a general deluge, constitute a\nvery prominent portion of their cabin lore. Interwoven with these\nleading traits are innumerable tales of personal achievement, sagacity,\nendurance, miracle, and trick, which place him in almost every scene of\ndeep interest that could be imagined, from the competitor on the Indian\nplayground, to a giant-killer, or a mysterious being of stern,\nall-knowing, superhuman power. Whatever man could do, he could do. He\naffected all the powers of a necromancer. He wielded the arts of a\ndemon, and had the ubiquity of a god. But in proportion as Manabozho\nexercises powers and performs exploits wild or wonderful, the chain of\nnarration which connects them is broken or vague. He leaps over\nextensive regions of country like an ignis fatuus. He appears suddenly\nlike an avater, or saunters over weary wastes a poor and starving\nhunter. His voice is at one moment deep and sonorous as a thunder-clap,\nand at another clothed with the softness of feminine supplication.\nScarcely any two persons agree in all the minor circumstances of the\nstory, and scarcely any omit the leading traits. The several tribes who\nspeak dialects of the mother language from which the narration is taken,\ndiffer, in like manner, from each other in the particulars of his\nexploits. But he is not presented here as an historical personage, or in\nany other light than as the native narrators themselves depict him, when\nthey have assembled a group of listeners in the lodge, and begin the\nstory of Manabozho. His birth and parentage are obscure. Story says his\ngrandmother was the daughter of the moon. Having been married but a\nshort time, her rival attracted her to a grapevine swing on the banks of\na lake, and by one bold exertion pitched her into its centre, from which\nshe fell through to the earth. Having a daughter, the fruit of her lunar\nmarriage, she was very careful in instructing her, from early infancy,\nto beware of the west wind, and never, in stooping, to expose herself to\nits influence. In some unguarded moment this precaution was neglected.\nIn an instant, the gale, invading her robes, scattered them upon its\nwings, and accomplishing its Tarquinic purpose, at the same moment\nannihilated her. At the scene of this catastrophe her mother found a\nfoetus-like mass, which she carefully and tenderly nursed till it\nassumed the beautiful and striking lineaments of the infant Manabozho.\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 enough\nin his necromantic and spiritual powers to baffle the most malicious,\nbeat the stoutest, and overreach the most cunning. In carrying out this\nconception in the following tale, they have, however, rather exhibited\nan incarnation of the power of Evil than of the genius of Benevolence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 animal\nor bird an object of deep interest; and every sound uttered by the\nanimal creation a new lesson, which he was expected to learn. He often\ntrembled at what he heard and saw. To this scene his grandmother sent\nhim at an early age to watch. The first sound he heard was that of the\nowl, at which he was greatly terrified, and, quickly descending the tree\nhe had climbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge. \"Noko! Noko!\"[26] he\ncried, \"I have heard a monedo.\" She laughed at his fears, and asked him\nwhat kind of a noise it made. He answered, \"It makes a noise like this:\nKo-ko-ko-ho.\" She told him that he was young and foolish; that what he\nhad heard was only a bird, deriving its name from the noise it made.\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 your\nfather the West. Your brothers are the North, East, and South, and,\nbeing older than yourself, your father has given them great power with\nthe 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 my\nonly 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[27] 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![28] 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_.\"[29] 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!_\"[30] 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 of\nthe rock, broken off under Manabozho's blows, can be seen in various\nplaces to this day.[31] The root did not prove as mortal a weapon as his\nwell-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,[32] 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 for ever. 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, who\nhad come to the earth in search of her, had been killed by\nMEGISSOGWON,[33] who lived on the opposite side of the great lake.\n\"When he was alive,\" she continued, \"I was never without oil to put on\nmy head, but now my hair is fast falling off for the want of it.\"\n\"Well!\" said he, \"Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, whilst I make\na canoe.\" 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![34] you ugly fish.\" The\ntrout, being thus rebuked, let go.\n\nManabozho put his line again in the water, saying, \"King of fishes, take\nhold of my line.\" But the king of the fishes told a monstrous sunfish to\ntake hold of it; for Manabozho was tiring him with his incessant calls.\nHe again drew up his line with difficulty, saying as before, \"Wha-ee-he!\nwha-ee-he!\" while his canoe was turning in swift circles. When he saw\nthe sunfish, he cried, \"Esa! esa! you odious fish! why did you dirty my\nhook by taking it in your mouth? Let go, I say, let go.\" The sunfish did\nso, and told the king of fishes what Manabozho said. Just at that moment\nthe bait came near the king, and hearing Manabozho continually crying\nout, \"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my hook,\" at last he did so, and\nallowed himself to be drawn up to the surface, which he had no sooner\nreached than, at one mouthful, he took Manabozho and his canoe down.\nWhen he came to himself, he found that he was in the fish's belly, and\nalso his canoe. He now turned his thoughts to the way of making his\nescape. Looking in his canoe, he saw his war-club, with which he\nimmediately struck the heart of the fish. He then felt a sudden motion,\nas if he were moving with great velocity. The fish observed to the\nothers, \"I am sick at stomach for having swallowed this dirty fellow\nManabozho.\" Just at this moment he received another more severe blow on\nthe heart. Manabozho thought, \"If I am thrown up in the middle of the\nlake, I shall be drowned; so I must prevent it.\" He drew his canoe and\nplaced it across the fish's throat, and just as he had finished the fish\ncommenced vomiting, but to no effect. In this he was aided by a\nsquirrel, who had accompanied him unperceived until that moment. This\nanimal had taken an active part in helping him to place his canoe\nacross the fish's throat. For this act he named him, saying, \"For the\nfuture, boys shall always call you Ajidaumo.\"[35]\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 said\nto the gulls, \"For the future you shall be called Kayoshk[36] for your\nkindness to me.\"\n\nThe spot where the fish happened to be driven ashore was near his lodge.\nHe went up and told his grandmother to go and prepare as much oil as she\nwanted. All besides, he informed her, he should keep for himself.\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, was\nsure 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.[37] 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.\"[38] 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 visiter,\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 visiter 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 from\nthem reached across the pass. He commenced talking as a friend to them;\nbut they answered, \"We know you, Manabozho, you cannot pass.\" He then\nthought of some expedient to deceive them, and hit upon this. He pushed\nhis canoe as near as possible. All at once he cried out, with a loud and\nterrified voice, \"What is that behind you?\" The serpents instantly\nturned their heads, when, at a single word, he passed them. \"Well!\"\nsaid he, placidly, after he had got by, \"how do you like my exploit?\" He\nthen took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot them,\nwhich was easily done, for the serpents were stationary, and could not\nmove beyond a certain spot. They were of enormous length and of a bright\ncolour.\n\nHaving overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his canoe till he\ncame to a soft gummy portion of the lake, called PIGIU-WAGUMEE, or\nPitch-water. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then pushed\ninto it. The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip through it\nwith ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and a constant\nreapplication of the oil. Just as his oil failed, he extricated himself\nfrom this impediment, and was the first person who ever succeeded in\novercoming 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 just\nat the dawn of day began his attack, yelling and shouting, and crying\nwith triple voices, \"Surround him! surround him! run up! run up!\" making\nit appear that he had many followers. He advanced crying out, \"It was\nyou that killed my grandfather,\" and with this shot his arrows. The\ncombat continued all day. Manabozho's arrows had no effect, for his\nantagonist was clothed with pure wampum. He was now reduced to three\narrows, and it was only by extraordinary agility that he could escape\nthe blows which the Manito kept making at him. At that moment a large\nwoodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past, and lit on a tree. \"Manabozho,\" he\ncried, \"your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of hair\non the crown of his head.\" He shot his first arrow so as only to draw\nblood from that part. The Manito made one or two unsteady steps, but\nrecovered himself. He began to parley, but, in the act, received a\nsecond arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered. In\nso doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a chance\nto fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him a\nlifeless corpse to the ground. Manabozho uttered his saw-saw-quan, and\ntaking 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[39] 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\nassembled animals and birds to dance, taking up his drum and crying,\n\"New songs from the south, come, brothers, dance.\" He directed them to\npass in a circle around him, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When\nhe saw a fat fowl pass by him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the\nsame time beating his drum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown\nthe noise of the fluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration,\n\"That's the way, my brothers, _that's_ the way.\" At last a small duck\n(the diver), thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw\nwhat he was doing. Giving a spring, and crying \"Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is\nkilling us,\" he made for the water. Manabozho followed him, and, just as\nthe duck was getting into the water, gave him a kick, which is the cause\nof his back being flattened and his legs being straightened out\nbackward, so that when he gets on land he cannot walk, and his tail\nfeathers are few. Meantime the other birds flew off, and the animals ran\ninto 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 Manabozho\ncried out, \"My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop, and I will go\nwith you.\" He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and asked him\nwhither he was journeying. Being told that they were looking out for a\nplace, where they could find most game, to pass the winter, he said he\nshould like to go with them, and addressed the old wolf in the following\nwords. \"Brother, I have a passion for the chase; are you willing to\nchange me into a wolf?\" He was answered favourably, 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 humour him,\" and granted his\nrequest. \"Well,\" said he, \"_that_ will do.\" He looked at his tail.\n\"Oh!\" cried he, \"do make my tail a little longer and more bushy.\" They\ndid so. They then all started off in company, dashing up a ravine. After\ngetting into the woods some distance, they fell in with the tracks of\nmoose. The young ones went after them, Manabozho and the old wolf\nfollowing at their leisure. \"Well,\" said the wolf, \"who do you think is\nthe fastest of the boys? can you tell by the jumps they take?\" \"Why,\" he\nreplied, \"that one that takes such long jumps, he is the fastest, to be\nsure.\" \"Ha! ha! you are mistaken,\" said the old wolf. \"He makes a good\nstart, but 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 him sideways.\" He then went to\nthe hind-quarter. \"No!\" said he, \"they will say I ate him forward. I\nwill commence _here_, say what they will.\" He took a delicate piece from\nthe rump, and was just ready to put it in his mouth, when a tree close\nby made a creaking noise, caused by the rubbing of one large branch\nagainst another. This annoyed him. \"Why!\" he exclaimed, \"I cannot eat\nwhen I hear such a noise. Stop! stop!\" said he to the tree. He was\nputting the morsel again to his mouth, when the noise was repeated. He\nput it down, exclaiming, \"_I cannot eat_ with such a noise;\" and\nimmediately left the meat, although very hungry, to go and put a stop to\nthe noise. He climbed the tree and was pulling at the limb, when his arm\nwas caught between the two branches so that he could not extricate\nhimself. While thus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves coming in the\ndirection towards his meat. \"Go that way! go that way!\" he cried out;\n\"what would you come to get here?\" The wolves talked among themselves\nand said, \"Manabozho must have something there, or he would not tell us\nto go another way.\" \"I begin to know him,\" said an old wolf, \"and all\nhis tricks. Let us go forward and see.\" They came on, and finding the\nmoose, soon made way with the whole carcass. Manabozho looked on\nwishfully to see them eat till they were fully satisfied, and they left\nhim nothing but the bare bones. The next heavy blast of wind opened the\nbranches and liberated him. He went home, thinking to himself, \"See the\neffect of meddling with frivolous things when I had certain good in my\npossession.\"\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[40] 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!\" said\nhe, \"he must have disobeyed me, and has lost his life in that lake I\ntold him of. Well!\" said he at last, \"I must mourn for him.\" So he took\ncoal and blackened his face. But he was much perplexed as to the right\nmode. \"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!' That\nwon't do either. I will cry 'Oh my grandson _obiquadj_!'\"[41] This\nsatisfied him, and he remained in his lodge and fasted, till his days of\nmourning were over. \"Now,\" said he, \"I will go in search of him.\" He set\nout and travelled some time. At last he came to a great lake. He then\nraised the same cries of lamentation for his grandson which had pleased\nhim. He sat down near a small brook that emptied itself into the lake,\nand repeated his cries. Soon a bird called _Ke-ske-mun-i-see_[42] came\nnear to him. The bird inquired, \"What are you doing here?\" \"Nothing,\" he\nreplied; \"but can you tell me whether any one lives in this lake, and\nwhat brings you here yourself?\" \"Yes!\" responded the bird; \"the Prince\nof Serpents lives here, and I am watching to see whether the obiquadj of\nManabozho's grandson will not drift ashore, for he was killed by the\nserpents last spring. But are you not Manabozho himself?\" \"No,\" he\nanswered, with his usual deceit; \"how do you think _he_ could get to\nthis place? But tell me, do the serpents ever appear? when? and where?\nTell me all about their habits.\" \"Do you see that beautiful white sandy\nbeach?\" said the bird. \"Yes!\" he answered. \"It is there,\" continued the\nKingfisher, \"that they bask in the sun. Before they come out, the lake\nwill appear perfectly calm; not even a ripple will appear. After midday\n(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.[43] 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 out\nall he wanted to know, and then desired to conceal the knowledge of his\npurposes 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 power\nof an evil genius, and we should be on our guard against his wiles.\" One\nof the large serpents immediately went and twisted himself around it to\nthe top, and pressed it very hard. The greatest pressure happened to be\non his throat; he was just ready to cry out when the serpent let go.\nEight of them went in succession and did the like, but always let go at\nthe moment he was ready to cry out. \"It cannot be him,\" they said. \"He\nis too great a weak-heart[44] for that.\" They then coiled themselves in\na circle about their prince. It was a long time before they fell asleep.\nWhen they did so, Manabozho took his bow and arrows, and cautiously\nstepping over the serpents till he came to the prince, drew up his arrow\nwith the full strength of his arm, and shot him in the left side. He\nthen gave a saw-saw-quan,[45] and ran off at full speed. The sound\nuttered by the snakes on seeing their prince mortally wounded, was\nhorrible. They cried, \"Manabozho has killed our prince; go in chase of\nhim.\" Meantime he ran over hill and valley, to gain the interior of the\ncountry, with all his strength and speed, treading a mile at a step. But\nhis pursuers were also spirits, and he could hear that something was\napproaching him fast. He made for the highest mountain, and climbed the\nhighest tree on its summit, when, dreadful to behold, the whole lower\ncountry was seen to be overflowed, and the water was gaining rapidly on\nthe high lands. He saw it reach to the foot of the mountain, and at\nlength it came up to the foot of the tree, but there was no abatement.\nThe flood rose steadily and perceptibly. He soon felt the lower part of\nhis body to be immersed in it. He addressed the tree: \"Grandfather,\nstretch yourself.\" The tree did so. But the waters still rose. He\nrepeated his request, and was again obeyed. He asked a third time, and\nwas again obeyed; but the tree replied, \"It is the last time; I cannot\nget any higher.\" The waters continued to rise till they reached up to\nhis chin, at which point they stood, and soon began to abate. Hope\nrevived in his heart. He then cast his eyes around the illimitable\nexpanse, and spied a loon. \"Dive down, my brother,\" he said to him, \"and\nfetch up some earth, so that I can make a new earth.\" The bird obeyed,\nbut rose up to the surface a lifeless form. He then saw a muskrat.\n\"Dive!\" said he, \"and if you succeed, you may hereafter live either on\nland or water, as you please; or I will give you a chain of beautiful\nlittle lakes, surrounded with rushes, to inhabit.\" He dove down, but he\nfloated up senseless. He took the body and breathed in his nostrils,\nwhich restored him to life. \"Try again,\" said he. The muskrat did so. He\ncame up senseless the second time, but clutched a little earth in one of\nhis paws, from which, together with the carcass of the dead loon, he\ncreated a new earth as large as the former had been, with all living\nanimals, fowls, and plants.\n\nAs he was walking to survey the new earth, he heard some one singing. He\nwent to the place, and found a female spirit, in the disguise of an old\nwoman, singing these words, and crying at every pause:\n\n                       Literal translation.\n     Ma nau bo sho,    Manabosho.\n     O do' zheem un,   His nephew.\n     Ogeem' au wun,    The king (or chief).\n     Onis' sa waun,    He killed him.\n            Hee-Ub bub ub bub, (crying).\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 a\nlaugh to quiet her fears. \"Ha! ha! ha! how can that be? Has not the old\nearth perished, and all that was in it?\" \"Impossible! impossible!\" \"But,\nNoko,\" he continued, \"what do you intend doing with all that cedar cord\non your back?\" \"Why,\" said she, \"I am fixing a snare for Manabozho, if\nhe should be on this earth; and, in the mean time, I am looking for\nherbs to heal my son. I am the only person that can do him any good. He\nalways 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\n     Manabozho's dart,\n     I try to get his dart,\n     I try to get his dart.\n\nHaving found out, by conversation with her, all he wished, he put her to\ndeath. He then took off her skin, and assuming this disguise, took the\ncedar cord on his back, and limped away singing her songs. He completely\naped the gait and voice of the old woman. He was met by one who told him\nto make haste; that the prince was worse. At the lodge, limping and\nmuttering, he took notice that they had his grandson's hide to hang over\nthe door. \"Oh dogs!\" said he; \"the evil dogs!\" He sat down near the\ndoor, and commenced sobbing like an aged woman. One observed, \"Why don't\nyou attend the sick, and not set there making such a noise?\" He took up\nthe poker and laid it on them, mimicking the voice of the old woman.\n\"Dogs that you are! why do you laugh at me? You know very well that I am\nso sorry that I am nearly out of my head.\" With that he approached the\nprince, singing the songs of the old woman, without exciting any\nsuspicion. He saw that his arrow had gone in about one half its length.\nHe pretended to make preparations for extracting it, but only made ready\nto finish his victim; and giving the dart a sudden thrust, he put a\nperiod to the prince's life. He performed this act with the power of a\ngiant, bursting the old woman's skin, and at the same moment rushing\nthrough the door. The serpents followed him, hissing and crying out,\n\"Perfidy! murder! vengeance! it is Manabozho.\" He immediately\ntransformed himself into a wolf, and ran over the plain with all his\nspeed, aided by his father the West wind. When he got to the mountains\nhe saw a badger. \"Brother,\" said he, \"make a hole quick, for the\nserpents are after me.\" The badger obeyed. They both went in, and the\nbadger threw all the earth backward, so that it filled up the way\nbehind.\n\nThe serpents came to the badger's wauzh,[46] 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 his\nwar-club, and set out for the place where he first went in the ground.\nHe found the serpents still watching. When they saw the form of their\ndead prince advancing towards them, fear and dread took hold of them.\nSome fled. Those who remained Manabozho killed. Those who fled went\ntowards the South.\n\nHaving accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Manabozho returned to\nhis former place of dwelling, and married the arrow-maker's daughter.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Concluding Note._--The story of this northern Hercules is dropped 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 are found, as episodes,\ndetached from the original story. To collect all these and arrange them\nin order would be an arduous labour; and, after all, such an arrangement\nwould lack consistency and keeping, unless much of the thread necessary\nto present them in an English dress were supplied by invention,\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 labours 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\npoints west of the pole. He is regarded as the spirit of the northwest\ntempests, but receives no worship from the present race of Indians. It\nis believed by them that he is again to appear, and to exercise an\nimportant power in the final disposition of the human race.\n\nIn this singular tissue of incongruities will be perceived several ideas\nprobably derived from Asiatic sources. It will be found, in the tale of\nthe visiters to the Sun and Moon, that Manabozho was met on the way, and\nhe is represented as expressing a deep repentance for the sins he had\ncommitted while on earth. He is, however, found exercising the vocation\nof a necromancer; has a pointed lodge, from which he utters oracles; and\nfinally transforms on the spot two of the party, who had consulted him,\nand asked the gift of immortality, the one into a cedar-tree, and the\nother into a block of granite.\n\nManabozho is regarded by the Indians as a god and a 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 obscured, if not obliterated, in the course of their\nlong, dark, and hopeless pilgrimage in the forests of America. That the\ntribes themselves are of Oriental origin, is probable, from the\ngrammatical structure of their languages, and their mode of expressing\nthought. But it is apparent that their separation took place at a very\nancient period. Whether this event is of a date prior to the\norganization of the Hebrew theocracy, or whether the American tribes\nhave originated, as some writers suppose, in a separation from the\nlatter sub-stock, there is not, at this time, sufficient data, stamped\nwith the character of sound investigation, to determine; but is rendered\nmanifest, by the present investigation into Indian opinions, that,\nalthough they probably had, at the epoch of their expatriation, a\nknowledge of the Creator and a tradition of the creation, and also of\nthe subsequent destruction of men by the deluge, this knowledge was\nalready corrupted and mixed with notions of materialism and carnality,\nsomewhat after the comparatively recent and grosser manner exhibited in\nthe existing legend of Manabozho.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[26] An abbreviated term for \"my grandmother,\" derived from\n_no-ko-miss_.\n\n[27] This is a term for the west wind. It is a derivative from\n_Ka-bian-oong_, the proper appellation for the occident.\n\n[28] An interjection indicating pain.\n\n[29] The scirpus or bulrush.\n\n[30] Do not--do not.\n\n[31] The Northern Indians, when travelling in company with each other,\nor with white persons who possess their confidence, so as to put them at\nease, are in the habit of making frequent allusions to Manabozho and his\nexploits. \"There,\" said a young Chippewa, pointing to some huge boulders\nof greenstone, \"are pieces of the rock broken off in Manabozho's combat\nwith his father.\" \"This is the duck,\" said an Indian interpreter on the\nsources of the Mississippi, \"that Manabozho kicked.\" \"Under that\nisland,\" said a friend conversant with their language, \"under that\nisland Manabozho lost a beaver.\"\n\n[32] The term weendigo, translated here monster, is commonly applied, at\nthis time, by the Indians, to cannibals. Its ancient use appears,\nhowever, to have embraced giants and anomalous voracious beasts of the\nland, to the former existence of which, on this Continent, their\ntraditions refer.\n\nThe word genabik, rendered serpent, appears likewise to have been used\nin a generic sense for amphibious animals of large and venomous\ncharacter. When applied to existing species of serpents, it requires an\nadjective prefix or qualifying term.\n\n[33] The wampum or pearl feather.\n\n[34] An interjection equivalent to shame! shame!\n\n[35] Animal tail, or bottom upward.\n\n[36] A free translation of this expression might be rendered, noble\nscratchers, or grabbers.\n\n[37] The conaus is the most ancient garment known to these tribes, being\na simple extended single piece, without folds. The word is the apparent\nroot of godaus, a female garment. Waub-e-wion, a blanket, is a\ncomparatively modern phrase for a wrapper, signifying, literally, a\nwhite skin with the wool on.\n\n[38] Fasts. The rite of fasting is one of the most deep-seated and\nuniversal in the Indian ritual. It is practised among all the American\ntribes, and is deemed by them essential to their success in life in\nevery situation. No young man is fitted and prepared to begin the career\nof life until he has accomplished his great fast. Seven days appear to\nhave been the ancient maximum limit of endurance, and the success of the\ndevotee is inferred from the length of continued abstinence to which he\nis known to have attained. These fasts are anticipated by youth as one\nof the most important events of life. They are awaited with interest,\nprepared for with solemnity, and endured with a self-devotion bordering\non the heroic. Character is thought to be fixed from this period, and\nthe primary fast, thus prepared for and successfully established, seems\nto hold that relative importance to subsequent years that is attached to\na public profession of religious faith in civilized communities. It is\nat this period that the young men and the young women \"see visions and\ndream dreams,\" and fortune or misfortune is predicted from the guardian\nspirit chosen during this, to them, religious ordeal. The hallucinations\nof the mind are taken for divine inspiration. The effect is deeply felt\nand strongly impressed on the mind; too deeply, indeed, to be ever\nobliterated in after life. The father in the circle of his lodge, the\nhunter in the pursuit of the chase, and the warrior in the field of\nbattle, think of the guardian genius which they fancy to accompany them,\nand trust to his power and benign influence under every circumstance.\nThis genius is the absorbing theme of their silent meditations, and\nstands to them in all respects in place of the Christian's hope, with\nthe single difference that, however deeply mused upon, the _name_ is\nnever uttered, and every circumstance connected with its selection, and\nthe devotion paid to it, is most studiously and professedly concealed\neven from their nearest friends.\n\nFasts in subsequent life appear to have for their object a renewal of\nthe powers and virtues which they attribute to the rite. And they are\nobserved more frequently by those who strive to preserve unaltered the\nancient state of society among them, or by men who assume austere habits\nfor the purpose of acquiring influence in the tribe, or as preparatives\nfor war or some extraordinary feat. It is not known that there is any\nfixed day observed as a general fast. So far as a rule is followed, a\ngeneral fast seems to have been observed in the spring, and to have\n_preceded_ the general and customary feasts at that season.\n\nIt will be inferred from these facts, that the Indians believe fasts to\nbe very meritorious. They are deemed most acceptable to the Manitoes or\nspirits whose influence and protection they wish to engage or preserve.\nAnd it is thus clearly deducible, that a very large proportion of the\ntime devoted by the Indians to secret worship, so to say, is devoted to\nthese guardian or intermediate spirits, and not to the Great Spirit or\nCreator.\n\n[39] The tuft feathers of the red-headed woodpecker are used to ornament\nthe stems of the Indian pipe, and are symbolical of valour.\n\n[40] Abbreviated from Neshomiss, my grandfather.\n\n[41] That part of the intestines of a fish, which, by its expansion from\nair in the first stage of decomposition, causes the body to rise and\nfloat. The expression here means float.\n\n[42] The Alcedo or Kingfisher.\n\n[43] This bird has a white spot on the breast, and a tufted head.\n\n[44] Shau-go-dai-a, i. e., a Coward.\n\n[45] The war-cry.\n\n[46] A burrow.\n\n\n\n\nBOKWEWA;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE HUMPBACK.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\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 cares,\nand passed their time in contentment and happiness.\n\nBokwewa,[47] 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 restiff 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 winter.\nHe came to a place where one of their number had died. They had placed\nthe corpse on a scaffold. He went to it and took it down. He saw that it\nwas the corpse of a beautiful young woman. \"She shall be my wife!\" he\nexclaimed.\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\nfavour!\" 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 succeeded\nin carrying her away. In the scuffle, Bokwewa had his hump back much\nbruised on the stones near the door. He crawled into the lodge and wept\nvery sorely, for he knew that it was a powerful Manito who had taken the\nwoman.\n\nWhen his brother returned he related all to him exactly as it had\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 him\nfrom 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, I\nam 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 against.\nIn the course of your journey, you will come to a large grapevine lying\nacross your way. You must not even taste its fruit, for it is poisonous.\nStep over it. It is a snake. You will next come to something that looks\nlike bear's fat, transparent and tremulous. Don't taste it, or you will\nbe overcome by the pleasures of those people. It is frog's eggs. These\nare 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 grapevine. It\nlooked so tempting, he forgot his brother's advice and tasted the fruit.\nHe went on till he came to the frog's eggs. The substance so much\nresembled bear's fat that he tasted it. He still went on. At length he\ncame to a very extensive plain. As he emerged from the forest the sun\nwas setting, and cast its scarlet and golden shades over all the plain.\nThe air was perfectly calm, and the whole prospect had the air of an\nenchanted land. The most inviting fruits and flowers spread out before\nthe eye. At a distance he beheld a large village, filled with people\nwithout number, and as he drew near he saw women beating corn in silver\nmortars. When they saw him approaching, they cried out, \"Bokwewa's\nbrother has come to see us.\" Throngs of men and women, gayly dressed,\ncame out to meet him. He was soon overcome by their flatteries and\npleasures, and he was not long afterward seen beating corn with their\nwomen (the strongest proof of effeminacy), although his wife, for whom\nhe 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 sat 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 reception\nthat his brother did. But he was above all temptations. The pleasures he\nsaw had no other effect upon him than to make him regret the weakness of\nmind of those who were led away by them. He shed tears of pity to see\nthat his brother had laid aside the arms of a hunter, and was seen\nbeating 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. He\nthere changed himself into one of those hair-snakes which are sometimes\nseen in running water. When she came down, he spoke to her, saying,\n\"Take me up; I am Bokwewa.\" She then scooped him out and went home. In a\nshort time the Manito who had taken her away asked her for water to\ndrink. The lodge in which they lived was partitioned. He occupied a\nsecret place, and was never seen by any one but the woman. She handed\nhim the water containing the hair-snake, which he drank, with the snake,\nand 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 for ever.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[47] I. e., the sudden stopping of a voice.\n\n\n\n\nIENA;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE MAGIC BUNDLE.\n\nA MASKEGO ALLEGORY.\n\n\nThere was once a poor man called Iena,[48] 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 spot\nin the evening, he was surprised to find a small but neat lodge built in\nthe place where he had left his bundle; and on looking in, he beheld a\nbeautiful female sitting in the lodge, with his blanket lying beside\nher. During the day he had been fortunate in killing a deer, which he\nlaid down at the lodge door. But, to his surprise, the woman, in her\nattempt to bring it in, broke both her legs. He looked at her with\nastonishment, and thought to himself, \"I supposed I was blessed, but I\nfind my mistake. Gweengweeshee,\"[49] said he, \"I will leave my game with\nyou, that you may feast on it.\"\n\nHe then took up his bundle and departed. After walking some time he came\nto another tree, on which he suspended his bundle as before, and went in\nsearch of game. Success again rewarded his efforts, and he returned\nbringing a deer, but found, as before, that a lodge had sprung up in the\nplace where he had suspended his bundle. He looked in, and saw, as\nbefore, a beautiful female sitting alone, with his bundle by her side.\nShe arose, and came out to bring in the deer, which he had deposited at\nthe door, and he immediately went into the lodge and sat by the fire, as\nhe felt fatigued with the day's labours. Wondering, at last, at the\ndelay of the woman, he arose, and peeping through the door of the lodge,\nbeheld her eating all the fat of the deer. He exclaimed, \"I thought I\nwas blessed, but I find I am mistaken.\" Then addressing the woman, \"Poor\nWabizhas,\"[50] said he, \"feast on the game that I have brought.\" He\nagain took up his bundle and departed, and, as usual, hung it up on the\nbranch of a tree, and wandered off in quest of game. In the evening he\nreturned with his customary good luck, bringing in a fine deer, and\nagain found a lodge occupying the place of his bundle. He gazed through\nan aperture in the side of the lodge, and saw a beautiful woman sitting\nalone, with a bundle by her side. As soon as he entered the lodge, she\narose with alacrity, brought in the carcass, cut it up, and hung up the\nmeat to dry. After this, she prepared a portion of it for the supper of\nthe weary hunter. The man thought to himself, \"Now I am certainly\nblessed.\" He continued his practice of hunting every day, and the woman,\non his return, always readily took care of the meat, and prepared his\nmeals for him. One thing, however, astonished him; he had never, as yet,\nseen her eat anything, and kindly said to her, \"Why do you not eat?\" She\nreplied, \"I have food of my own, which I eat.\"\n\nOn the fourth day he brought home with him a branch of uzadi[51] 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;\"[52] 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, this\nis very acceptable; this is a change, for one gets tired eating white\nfish always (meaning the poplar); but the carp (meaning the red willow)\nis 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 happy\nman. Being industrious, she made him beautiful bags from the bark of\ntrees, 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 arrows\nto 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 with\nher children. She built a dam across the stream, erected a lodge of\nearth, and lived after the manner of the beavers.\n\nWhen the hunter awoke, he found himself alone in his lodge, and his wife\nand children absent. He immediately made diligent search after them, and\nat last discovered their retreat on the river. He approached the place\nof their habitation, and throwing himself prostrate on the top of the\nlodge, exclaimed, \"Shingisshenaun tshee neeboyaun.\"[53] The woman\nallowed the children to go close to their father, but not to touch him;\nfor, as soon as they came very near, she would draw them away again, and\nin this manner she continued to torment him a long time. The husband\nlaid in this situation until he was almost starved, when a young female\napproached him, and thus accosted him: \"Look here; why are you keeping\nyourself in misery, and thus starving yourself? Eat this,\" reaching him\na little mokuk containing fresh raspberries which she had just gathered.\nAs soon as the beaveress, his former wife, beheld this, she began to\nabuse the young woman, and said to her, \"Why do you wish to show any\nkindness to that _animal_ that has but two legs? you will soon repent\nit.\" She also made sport of the young woman, saying, \"Look at her; she\nhas a long nose, and she is just like a bear.\" The young woman, who was\nall the time a bear in disguise, hearing herself thus reproached, broke\ndown the dam of the beaver, let the water run out, and nearly killed the\nbeaver herself. Then turning to the man, she thus addressed him: \"Follow\nme; I will be kind to you. Follow me closely. You must be courageous,\nfor there are three persons who are desirous of marrying me, and will\noppose you. Be careful of yourself. Follow me nimbly, and, just as we\napproach the lodge, put your feet in the prints of mine, for I have\neight sisters who will do their utmost to divert your attention and make\nyou lose the way. Look neither to the right nor the left, but enter the\nlodge just as I do, and take your seat where I do.\" As they proceeded\nthey came in sight of a large lodge, when he did as he had been\ndirected, stepping in her tracks. As they entered the lodge the eight\nsisters clamorously addressed him. \"Oh, Ogidahkumigo[54] has lost his\nway,\" and each one invited him to take his seat with her, desiring to\ndraw him from their sister. The old people also addressed him as he\nentered, and said, \"Oh, make room for our son-in-law.\" The man, however,\ntook his seat by the side of his protectress, and was not farther\nimportuned.\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[55] 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 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 the\nwinter. 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 from\nher, 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 season.\nBy this time the man had two children, one resembling himself and the\nother his wife. When the cry was made, the little boy who resembled his\nfather was in such a hurry in putting on his moccasins, that he\nmisplaced them, putting the moccasin of the right foot upon the left.\nAnd 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 the\nadvance, and sought the open plain, whereupon the child resembling the\nmother would cry out and complain, because she disliked an _open_ path.\nAs they 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 at\nthe _manner_ in which her husband broke the branches, she was very much\noffended, for he broke them _upward_ instead of _downward_. \"It is not\nonly very awkward,\" said she, \"but we will be found out; for the\nOgidahkumigoes[56] will see where we have passed by the branches we have\nbroken.\" To avoid this, they agreed to change their route, and were\nfinally 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 hunter.\nAs they went, he instructed him what he must hereafter do when he killed\nbears. \"You must,\" said he, \"never cut the flesh in taking off the skin,\nnor hang up the feet with the flesh when drying it. But you must take\nthe head and feet, and decorate them handsomely, and place tobacco on\nthe head, for these animals are very fond of this article, and on the\n_fourth day_ they come to life again.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[48] From Ienawdizzi, a wanderer.\n\n[49] The night-hawk.\n\n[50] A marten.\n\n[51] The common poplar, or P. tremuloides.\n\n[52] The beaver.\n\n[53] Here I will lie until I die.\n\n[54] This term means a man that lives on the surface of the earth, as\ncontradistinguished from beings living under ground.\n\n[55] He who lives in the city under ground.\n\n[56] People who live above ground.\n\n\n\n\nSHEEM;[57]\n\nOR,\n\nTHE FORSAKEN BOY.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\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 have\njust commenced the career of life, who will protect you from its evils?\nListen to my words! Unkindness, ingratitude, and every wickedness is in\nthe scene before you. It is for this cause that, years ago, I withdrew\nfrom my kindred and my tribe, to spend my days in this lonely spot. I\nhave contented myself with the company of your mother and yourselves\nduring seasons of very frequent scarcity and want, while your kindred,\nfeasting in a scene where food is plenty, have caused the forests to\necho with the shouts of successful war. I gave up these things for the\nenjoyment of peace. I wished to shield you from the bad examples you\nwould inevitably have followed. I have seen you, thus far, grow up in\ninnocence. If we have sometimes suffered bodily want, we have escaped\npain of mind.[58] We have been kept from scenes of rioting and\nbloodshed.\n\n\"My career is now at its close. I will shut my eyes in peace, if you, my\nchildren, 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 no\naccount, 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 farther;\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. The\nelder son witnessed the scene in silence. He soon exerted himself to\nsupply, with the bow and net, his father's place. Time, however, wore\naway heavily. Five moons had filled and waned, and the sixth was near\nits full, when the mother also died. In her last moments she pressed the\nfulfilment of their promise to their father, which the children readily\nrenewed, because they were yet free from selfish motives.\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 seemed\nto feel a tender and sisterly affection for the youngest, who was rather\nsickly and delicate. The other boy soon showed symptoms of restlessness\nand ambition, and addressed the sister as follows: \"My sister, are we\nalways to live as if there were no other human beings in the world? Must\nI deprive myself of the pleasure of associating with my own kind? I have\ndetermined this question for myself. I shall seek the villages of men,\nand you cannot prevent me.\"\n\nThe sister replied: \"I do not say no, my brother, to what you desire. We\nare not prohibited the society of our fellow-mortals; but we are told to\ncherish each other, and to do nothing independent of each other. Neither\npleasure nor pain ought, therefore, to separate us, especially from our\nyounger brother, who, being but a child, and weakly withal, is entitled\nto a double share of our affection. If we follow our separate\ngratifications, it will surely make us neglect him, whom we are bound by\nvows, both to our father and mother, to support.\" The young man received\nthis address in silence. He appeared daily to grow more restiff and\nmoody, and one day, taking his bow and arrows, left the lodge and never\nreturned.\n\nAffection nerved the sister's arm. She was not so ignorant of the forest\narts as to let her brother want. For a long time she administered to his\nnecessities, and supplied a mother's cares. At length, however, she\nbegan to be weary of solitude and of her charge. No one came to be a\nwitness of her assiduity, or to let fall a single word in her native\nlanguage. Years, which added to her strength and capability of directing\nthe affairs of the household, brought with them the irrepressible desire\nof society, and made solitude irksome. At this point, selfishness gained\nthe ascendency of her heart; for, in meditating a change in her mode of\nlife, she lost sight of her younger brother, and left him to be provided\nfor 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 said\nto her little brother: \"My brother, you must not stray from the lodge. I\nam going to seek our elder brother. I shall be back soon.\" Then, taking\nher bundle, she set off in search of habitations. She soon found them,\nand was so much taken up with the pleasures and amusements of social\nlife, that the thought of her brother was almost entirely obliterated.\nShe accepted proposals of marriage; and, after that, thought still less\nof 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 rigours. 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 so\nfamiliar 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 to the shore. It happened, the same day, that his\nelder brother was fishing in his canoe, a considerable distance out in\nthe lake, when he thought he heard the cries of a child on the shore,\nand wondered how any could exist on so bleak and barren a part of the\ncoast. He listened again attentively, and distinctly heard the cry\nrepeated. He made for shore as quick as possible, and, as he approached\nland, discovered and recognised his little brother, and heard him\nsinging, 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     Ke ge wai bin im\n     She gwuh dush\n     Ni my een gwun iewh!\n     Ni my een gwun iewh!\n                 Heo hwooh.\n\n     Tyau, tyau! sunnagud,\n     Nin dininee wun aubun\n     She gwuh dush\n     Ni my een gwun iewh!\n                 Heo hwooh.\n\n     Listen, brother--elder brother!\n       Now my fate is near its close;\n     Soon my state shall be another,\n       Soon shall cease my day of woes.\n\n     Left by friends I loved the dearest,\n       All who knew and loved me most;\n     Woes the darkest and severest,\n       Bide me on this barren coast.\n\n     Pity! ah, that manly feeling,\n       Fled from hearts where once it grew,\n     Now in wolfish forms revealing,\n       Glows more warmly than in you.\n\n     Stony hearts! that saw me languish.\n       Deaf to all a father said,\n     Deaf to all a mother's anguish,\n       All a brother's feelings fled.\n\n     Ah, ye wolves, in all your ranging,\n       I have found you kind and true;\n     More than man--and now I'm changing,\n       And will soon be one of you.\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, and\nstrove 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       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[The moral of this tale may be said to rebuke a species of cruelty,\nwhich is not peculiar to the tribe from whose traditions it has been\nobtained. The truth it indicates is impressed upon the minds of the\nyoung, to warn them against the perpetration of similar\nbarbarities--barbarities which claim pity even from wild animals.\n\nBut while we know of no recorded instance of abandonment of _children of\neither sex_ by any North American tribes, it is attested by travellers\nthat _the very aged and helplessly superannuated_, among some of the\nmore northerly tribes, have been thus left. This remark was made at an\nearly day, and has been repeated in modern times, as practised among\nbands on the borders of the Arctic Ocean. Certainly no practice of this\nkind has been found to prevail among the Odjibwas, Ottowas, and other\nmore well-known existing branches of the Algic stock.]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[57] Abbreviated from _Nee Sheema_, my younger brother or younger\nsister.\n\n[58] Wesugaindum, meaning pain or bitterness of mind, is a single\nexpression in the original. It is a trinary compound.\n\n\n\n\nPAUP-PUK-KEEWISS.\n\nFROM THE ALGIC.\n\n\nA man of large stature, and great activity of mind and body, found\nhimself standing alone on a prairie. He thought to himself, \"How came I\nhere? Are there no beings on this earth but myself? I must travel and\nsee. I must walk till I find the abodes of men.\" So soon as his mind was\nmade up, he set out, he knew not where, in search of habitations. No\nobstacles could divert him from his purpose. Neither prairies, rivers,\nwoods, nor storms had the effect to daunt his courage or turn him back.\nAfter travelling a long time he came to a wood, in which he saw decayed\nstumps of trees, as if they had been cut in ancient times, but no other\ntraces of men. Pursuing his journey, he found more recent marks of the\nsame kind; and after this, he came to fresh traces of human beings;\nfirst their footsteps, and then the wood they had cut, lying in heaps.\nContinuing on, he emerged towards dusk from the forest, and beheld at a\ndistance a large village of high lodges, standing on rising ground. He\nsaid to himself, \"I will arrive there on a run.\" Off he started with\nall his speed; on coming to the first large lodge, he jumped over it.\nThose within saw something pass over the opening, and then heard a thump\non 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 adventures,\nand his name was Paup-Puk-Keewiss. A stare followed.\n\n\"Paup-Puk-Keewiss!\"[59] 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.[60] 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 was\nadvised not to do so. The chief warned him of the danger of the visit;\nbut, 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 descried 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 and\nhis 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 deadly\nthrow. He knew their object--his death--his _flesh_ was all they wanted,\nbut he was prepared for them.\n\n\"Haw! haw!\"[61] 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. The\nold manito got frightened and ran for his life. Paup-Puk-Keewiss pursued\nhim for sport; sometimes he was before him, sometimes flying over his\nhead. He would now give him a kick, then a push or a trip, till he was\nalmost exhausted. Meantime his friend and the warriors cried out, \"Ha!\nha! a! ha! ha! a! Paup-Puk-Keewiss is driving him before him.\" The\nmanito only turned his head now and then to look back; at last,\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss gave him a kick on his back, and broke his back bone;\ndown he fell, and the blood gushing out of his mouth prevented him from\nsaying a word. The warriors piled all the bodies together in the lodge,\nand then took fire and burned them. They all looked with deep interest\nat the quantity of human bones scattered around.\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 who\nhad proved his friend, and gave them up to him. Soon after the chief\ncame with his counsellors.\n\n\"Who is more worthy,\" said he, \"to rule than you? _You_ alone can defend\nthem.\"\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 on\nhis travels. He told them that he would, some time or other, come back\nand see them.\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho!\" they all cried, \"come back again and see us,\" insisting on\nit. He promised them he would, and then set out alone.\n\nAfter travelling some time he came to a large lake; on looking about, he\ndiscovered a very large otter on an island. He thought to himself, \"His\nskin will make me a fine pouch,\" and immediately drew up, at long shots,\nand drove an arrow into his side. He waded into the lake, and with some\ndifficulty dragged him ashore. He took out the entrails, and even then\nthe carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to drag it\nup a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got him up into the\nsunshine, where it was warm, he skinned him, and threw the carcass some\ndistance, thinking the war-eagle would come, and he should have a\nchance to get his skin and feathers as head ornaments. He soon heard a\nrushing noise in the air, but could see nothing; by-and-by, a large\neagle dropped, as if from the air, on the otter's carcass. He drew his\nbow, and the arrow passed through under both his wings. The bird made a\nconvulsive flight upward with such force, that the heavy carcass (which\nwas nearly as big as a moose) was borne up several feet. Fortunately,\nboth claws were fastened deeply into the meat, the weight of which soon\nbrought the bird down. He skinned him, crowned his head with the trophy,\nand next day was on his way, on the lookout for something 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 the\nbeavers would show themselves. He soon saw the head of one peeping out\nof the water to see who disturbed them.\n\n\"My friend,\" said Paup-Puk-Keewiss, \"could you not turn me into a beaver\nlike yourself?\" for he thought, if he could become a beaver, he would\nsee 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 tree\nat 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 and\nlogs at the bottom, he asked the use of them; they answered, \"It is for\nour winter's provisions.\"[62] When they all got into the lodge, their\nnumber 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 together\nin great fear. The water began to _lower_, for the hunters had broken\ndown 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 made\nhim so large that he could not creep out of the hole. He tried to call\nthem back, but to no effect; he worried himself so much in trying to\nescape, that he looked like a bladder. He could not turn himself back\ninto a man, although he heard and understood all the hunters said. One\nof 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 scull 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 carried\nhim home. As they went, he reflected in this manner: \"What will become\nof me? my ghost or shadow will not die after they get me to their\nlodges.\" Invitations were immediately sent out for a grand feast. The\nwomen took him out into the snow to skin him; but, as soon as his flesh\ngot cold, his _Jee-bi_ went off.\n\nPaup-Puk-Keewiss found himself standing near a prairie, having reassumed\nhis mortal shape. After walking a distance, he saw a herd of elk\nfeeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life, and\nthought there could be nothing pleasanter than the liberty of running\nabout and feeding on the prairies. He asked them if they could not turn\nhim 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 good\ntime in grazing and running. Being rather cold one day, he went into a\nthick wood for shelter, and was followed by most of the herd. They had\nnot been long there before some elks from behind passed the others like\na strong wind. All took the alarm, and off they ran, he with 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 number\nhad, the day before, observed his _large tracks_ on the plains. After\nskinning him and his flesh getting cold, his _Jee-bi_ took its flight\nfrom the carcass, and he again found himself in human shape, with a bow\nand 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, all\nthe 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 seeing\nthem, particularly on Paup-Puk-Keewiss's account, for his wings were\nbroader than two large aupukwa.[63] They made such a noise, that he\nforgot what had been told him, about looking down. They were now going\nas swift as arrows; and, as soon as he brought his neck in and stretched\nit down to look at the shouters, his tail was caught by the wind, and\nover and over he was blown. He tried to right himself, but without\nsuccess. Down, down he went, making more turns than he wished for, from\na height of several miles. The first thing he knew was, that he was\njammed into a large hollow tree. To get back or forward was out of the\nquestion, 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 he\nhad been walking in a circle; but they did not undeceive him, pretending\nto be strangers, and saying, in a kind voice, \"We will show you the\nway.\" After walking the third day, and coming back to the same place, he\nfound them out in their tricks, for he had cut a notch on the doorpost.\n\n\"Who are you,\" said he to them, \"to treat me so?\" and he gave one a kick\nand the other a slap, which killed them. Their blood flew against the\nrocks near the lodge, and this is the reason there are red streaks in\nthem to this day. He then burned their lodge down, and freed the earth\nof 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 bring his people to live near this lake. He\nwent on, and towards evening came to a large island, where he encamped\nand 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, transforming\nhimself into a partridge, took his flight towards it. In a short time\nhe reached it, and his return was welcomed with feasting and songs. He\ntold them of the lake and the fish, and persuaded them all to remove to\nit, as it would be easier for them to live there. He immediately began\nto remove them by short encampments, and all things turned out as he had\nsaid. They caught abundance of fish. After this, a messenger came for\nhim in the shape of a bear, who said that their king wished to see him\nimmediately at his village. Paup-Puk-Keewiss was ready in an instant;\nand, getting on to the messenger's back, off he ran. Towards evening\nthey went up a high mountain, and came to a cave where the bear-king\nlived. He was a very large person, and made him welcome by inviting him\ninto his lodge. As soon as propriety allowed, he spoke, and said that he\nhad sent for him on hearing that he was the chief who was moving a large\nparty 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 do\nanything 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 that\none of his young men was ready at his command; and, immediately jumping\non his back, Paup-Puk-Keewiss rode home. He assembled the village, and\ntold the young men to kill the bear, make a feast of it, and hang the\nhead outside the village, for he knew the bear spies would soon see it,\nand 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 a\ntremendous noise. The bear-chief advanced, and said that he did not wish\nto 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 young\nmen to take all those blackfish (meaning the bears), and tie them at\nthe 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 kind\nleave of his friends and people, and started off again. After wandering\na long time, he came to the lodge of Manabozho, who was absent. He\nthought he would play him a trick, and so turned everything in the lodge\nupside down, and killed his chickens. Now Manabozho calls all the fowls\nof the air his chickens; and among the number was a raven, the meanest\nof birds, which Paup-Puk-Keewiss killed and hung up by the neck to\ninsult him. He then went on till he came to a very high point of rocks\nrunning out into the lake, from the top of which he could see the\ncountry back as far as the eye could reach. While sitting there,\nManabozho's mountain chickens flew round and past him in great numbers.\nSo, out of spite, he shot them in great numbers, for his arrows were\nsure and the birds very plenty, and he amused himself by throwing the\nbirds down the rocky precipice. At length a wary bird cried out,\n\"Paup-Puk-Keewiss is killing us. Go and tell our father.\" Away flew a\ndelegation of them, and Manabozho soon made his appearance on the plain\nbelow. Paup-Puk-Keewiss made his escape on the opposite side. Manabozho\ncried 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 pieces\nand scattered the grains. Manabozho was so close upon him at this place\nthat he had almost caught him; but the foundation of the rock 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 got\nso near as to put out his arm to seize him; but Paup-Puk-Keewiss dodged\nhim, and immediately raised such a dust and commotion by whirlwinds as\nmade the trees break, and the sand and leaves dance in the air. Again\nand again Manabozho's hand was put out to catch him; but he dodged him\nat every turn, and kept up such a tumult of dust, that in the thickest\nof it, he dashed into a hollow tree which had been blown down, and\nchanged himself into a snake, and crept out at the roots. Well that he\ndid; for at the moment he had got out, Manabozho, who is\nOgee-bau-ge-mon,[64] 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 were crushed the\nmortal 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 spirits.\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\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[59] This word appears to be derived from the same root as\n_Paup-puk-ke-nay_, a grasshopper, the inflection _iss_ making it\npersonal. The Indian idea is that of harum scarum. He is regarded as a\nfoil to Manabozho, with whom he is frequently brought in contact in\naboriginal story craft.\n\n[60] This is an official who bears the pipe for the ruling chief, and as\nan inferior dignity in councils.\n\n[61] This is a studied perversion of the interjection Ho. In another\ninstance [vide Waasamo] it is rendered _Hoke_.\n\n[62] We may mention, for the youth who may read these tales, that\nbeavers live by gnawing the bark of trees.\n\n[63] Mats.\n\n[64] A species of lightning\n\n\n\n\nIADILLA;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIN.\n\nFROM THE ODJIBWA.\n\n\nAn old man had an only son named _Iadilla_, who had come to that age\nwhich is thought to be most proper to make the long and final fast, that\nis to secure through life a guardian genius or spirit. In the influence\nof this choice, it is well known, our people have relied for their\nprosperity 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 honour 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 of\ndiscontent 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 yet\nto 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 eleventh\nday, when he repeated his request. Very nearly the same answer was\ngiven him by his father, who added that the next day he would himself\nprepare his first meal, and bring it to him. The boy remained silent,\nbut lay as motionless as a corpse. No one would have known he was living\nbut 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 man.\nHe would not listen to my requests. He will be the loser. I shall be for\never happy in my new state, for I have been obedient to my parent; he\nalone will be the sufferer, for my guardian spirit is a just one; though\nnot propitious to me in the manner I desired, he has shown me pity in\nanother way; he has given me another shape; and now I must go.\"\n\nAt this moment the old man broke in, exclaiming, \"My son! my son! I pray\nyou leave me not.\" But the young man, with the quickness of a bird, had\nflown to the top of the lodge, and perched himself on the highest pole,\nhaving 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 behold.\nI shall be happier in my present state than I could have been as a man.\nI shall always be the friend of men, and keep near their dwellings. I\nshall ever be happy and contented; and although I could not gratify your\nwishes as a warrior, it will be my daily aim to make you amends for it\nas a harbinger of peace and joy. I will cheer you by my songs, and\nstrive to inspire in others the joy and lightsomeness I feel in my\npresent state. This will be some compensation to you for the loss of the\nglory you expected. I am now free from the cares and pains of human\nlife. My food is spontaneously furnished by the mountains and fields,\nand my pathway of life is in the bright air.\" Then stretching himself on\nhis toes, as if delighted with the gift of wings, he carolled one of his\nsweetest songs, and flew away into a neighbouring grove.\n\n\nIADILLA'S SONG.\n\n     In the boundless woods there are berries of red,\n       And fruits of a beautiful blue,\n     Where, by nature's own hand, the sweet singers are fed,\n       And to nature they ever are true.\n\n     We go not with arrow and bow to the field,\n       Like men of the fierce ruddy race,\n     To take away lives which they never can give,\n       And revel the lords of the chase.\n\n     If danger approaches, with instant alarm\n       We fly to our own leafy woods,\n     And there, with an innocent carol and charm,\n       We sing to our dear little broods.\n\n     At morning we sally in quest of the grain\n       Kind nature in plenty supplies,\n     We skip o'er the beautiful wide-stretching plain,\n       And sport in the vault of the skies.\n\n     At evening we perch in some neighbouring tree\n       To carol our evening adieu,\n     And feel, although man may assert he is free,\n       We only have liberty true.\n\n     We sing out our praises to God and to man,\n       We live as heaven taught us to live,\n     And I would not change back to mortality's plan\n       For all that the mortal can give.\n\n     Here ceased the sweet singer; then pluming his breast,\n       He winged the blue firmament free,\n     Repeating, as homeward he flew to his rest,\n       Tshee-ree-lee--Tshee-ree-lee--Tshee-ree-lee!\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nENCHANTED MOCCASINS.\n\nA MASKEGO TALE.\n\n\nThere once lived a little boy with his sister, entirely alone, in an\nuninhabited country. He was called the Boy that carries the Ball on his\nBack, from an idea of his having supernatural powers. This boy was\nconstantly in the habit of meditating, and asking within himself whether\nthere were other and similar beings to themselves on the earth. When he\ngrew up to manhood, he asked his sister if she knew of any human beings\nbesides themselves. She replied that she did; and that there was, at a\ngreat distance, a large village. As soon as he heard this, he said to\nhis sister, \"I am now a young man, and very much in want of a partner;\"\nand he asked his sister to make him several pairs of moccasins. She\ncomplied with his request; and, as soon as he received the moccasins, he\ntook up his war-club and set out in quest of the distant village. He\ntravelled on, till at length he came to a small wigwam, and, on looking\ninto it, discovered a very old woman setting alone by the fire. As soon\nas she saw the stranger, she invited him in, and thus addressed him: \"My\npoor grandchild, I suppose you are one of those who seek for the distant\nvillage, from which no person has ever yet returned. Unless your\nguardian is more powerful than the guardian of your predecessors, you\ntoo will share a similar fate to theirs. Be careful to provide yourself\nwith the Ozhebahguhnun--the bones they use in the medicine dance,[65]\nwithout which you cannot succeed.\" After she had thus spoken, she gave\nhim the following directions for his journey. \"When you come near to the\nvillage which you seek, you will see in the centre a large lodge, in\nwhich the chief of the village, who has two daughters, resides. Before\nthe door you will see a great tree, which is smooth and destitute of\nbark. On this tree, about the height of a man from the ground, a small\nlodge is suspended, in which these two daughters dwell. It is here so\nmany have been destroyed. Be wise, my grandchild, and abide strictly by\nmy directions.\" The old woman then gave him the Ozhebahguhnun, which\nwould cause his success. Placing them in his bosom, he continued his\njourney, till at length he arrived at the sought-for village; and, as he\nwas gazing around him, he saw both the tree and the lodge which the old\nwoman had mentioned. Immediately he bent his steps for the tree, and\napproaching, he endeavoured to reach the suspended lodge. But all his\nefforts were vain; for as often as he attempted to reach it, the tree\nbegan to tremble, and soon shot up so that the lodge could hardly be\nperceived. Foiled as he was in all his attempts, he thought of his\nguardian, and changed himself into a small squirrel, that he might more\neasily accomplish his design. He then mounted the tree in quest of the\nlodge. After climbing for some time, he became fatigued and panted for\nbreath; but, remembering the instructions which the old woman had given\nhim, he took from his bosom one of the bones, and thrust it into the\ntrunk of the tree on which he sat. In this way he quickly found relief;\nand, as often as he became fatigued, he repeated this; but whenever he\ncame near the lodge and attempted to touch it, the tree would shoot up\nas before, and place the lodge beyond his reach. At length, the bones\nbeing exhausted, he began to despair, for the earth had long since\nvanished from his sight. Summoning all resolution, he determined to make\nanother effort to reach the object of his wishes. On he went; yet, as\nsoon as he came near the lodge and attempted to touch it, the tree again\nshook, but it had reached the arch of heaven, and could go no higher; so\nnow he entered the lodge, and beheld the two sisters sitting opposite\neach other. He asked their names. The one on his left hand called\nherself Azhabee,[66] and the one on the right Negahnahbee.[67] Whenever\nhe addressed 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 on\nhis 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 position;\nthen seizing his war-club, he thus addressed the sisters: \"You, who have\ncaused the death of so many of my brothers, I will now put an end to,\nand thus have revenge for the numbers you have destroyed.\" As he said\nthis he raised the club and laid them dead at his feet. He then\ndescended, and learning that these sisters had a brother living with\ntheir father, who would pursue him for the deed he had done, he set off\nat random, not knowing whither he went. Soon after, the father and\nmother of the young women visited their residence and found their\nremains. They immediately told their son Mudjikewis that his sisters\nhad been slain. He replied, \"The person who has done this must be the\nBoy that carries the Ball on his Back. I will pursue him, and have\nrevenge for the blood of my sisters.\" \"It is well, my son,\" replied the\nfather. \"The spirit of your life grant you success. I counsel you to be\nwary in the pursuit. It is a strong spirit who has done this injury to\nus, and he will try to deceive you in every way. Above all, avoid\ntasting food till you succeed; for if you break your fast before you see\nhis blood, your power will be destroyed.\" So saying, they parted.\n\nHis son instantly set out in search of the murderer, who, finding he was\nclosely pursued by the brother of the slain, climbed up into one of the\ntallest trees and shot forth his magic arrows. Finding that his pursuer\nwas not turned back by his arrows, he renewed his flight; and when he\nfound 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 a\npair of them, he placed them near the skeleton. \"Go,\" said he to them,\n\"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 a\npair 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 with 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 _Onwee\nBahmondung_, or he who carries the Ball, were in another direction. He\nnow became faint with hunger, and resolved to give up the pursuit; but\nwhen 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 and\ntold their father that a stranger approached the lodge. Their father\nreplied, \"Invite him in, my children, invite him in.\" They quickly did\nso; and, by the command of their father, they boiled some corn and\nprepared other savoury 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.\nOnwee Bahmondung 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 of\nwhich he put an end to his pursuer, and thus vindicated his title as the\nWearer of the Ball.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[65] The idea attached to the use of these bones in the medicine dance\nis, that, by their magical influence, the actor can penetrate and go\nthrough any substance.\n\n[66] One who sits behind.\n\n[67] One who sits before.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BROKEN WING.\n\nAN ALLEGORY.\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 were\nshot by the hunters in one day. The young brood waited with impatience\nfor their return; but night came, and they were left without parents and\nwithout food. Meeji-geeg-wona, or the Gray Eagle, the eldest, and the\nonly one whose feathers had become stout enough to enable him to leave\nthe nest, assumed the duty of stilling their cries and providing them\nwith food, in which he was very successful. But, after a short time had\npassed, he, by an unlucky mischance, got one of his wings broken in\npouncing upon a swan. This was the more unlucky, because the season had\narrived when they were soon to go off to a southern climate to pass the\nwinter, and they were only waiting to become a little stouter and more\nexpert for the journey. Finding that he did not return, they resolved\nto go in search of him, and found him sorely 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 sufferings;\nwe will abandon our journey, and take care of you, as you did of us,\nbefore we were able to take care of ourselves. If the climate kills you,\nit shall kill us. Do you think we can so soon forget your brotherly\ncare, which has surpassed a father's, and even a mother's kindness?\nWhether 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 their\nwounded nestmate there; and, before the rigours of winter set in, they\nhad stored up food enough to carry them through its severities. To make\nit last the better, two of the number went off south, leaving the other\nthree to watch over, feed, and protect the wounded bird. Meeji-geeg-wona\nin due time recovered from his wound, and he repaid their kindness by\ngiving them such advice and instruction in the art of hunting as his\nexperience had qualified him to impart. As spring advanced, they began\nto venture out of their hiding-place, and were all successful in getting\nfood to eke out their winter's stock, except the youngest, who was\ncalled Peepi-geewi-zains, or the Pigeon Hawk. Being small and foolish,\nflying hither and yon, he always came back without anything. At last the\nGray Eagle spoke to him, and demanded the cause of his ill luck. \"It is\nnot my smallness or weakness of body,\" said he, \"that prevents my\nbringing home flesh as well as my brothers. I kill ducks and other birds\nevery time I go out; but, just as I get to the woods, a large\nKo-ko-ko-ho[68] robs me of my prey.\" \"Well! don't despair, brother,\"\nsaid Meeji-geeg-wona. \"I now feel my strength perfectly recovered, and I\nwill go out with you to-morrow,\" for he was the most courageous and\nwarlike 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 than\nhimself for the future.\" So, after giving him good advice, and telling\nhim what kind of herbs would cure his wounds, they let the owl go.\n\nWhile this act was taking place, and before the liberated owl had yet\ngot out of view, two visiters appeared at the hollow tree. They were the\ntwo nestmates, who had just returned from the south after passing the\nwinter there, and they were thus all happily reunited, and each one soon\nchose a mate and flew off to the woods. Spring had now revisited the\nnorth. The cold winds had ceased, the ice had melted, the streams were\nopen, and the forest began rapidly to put on its vernal hue. \"But it is\nin vain,\" said the old man who related this story, \"it is in vain that\nspring returns, if we are not thankful to the Master of Life who has\npreserved us through the winter. Nor does that man answer the end for\nwhich he was made who does not show a kind and charitable feeling to\nall who are in want or sickness, especially to his blood relations.\nThese six birds only represent one of our empoverished northern families\nof children, who had been deprived of both their parents and the aid of\ntheir elder brother nearly at the same time.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[68] Owl.\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nTHREE CRANBERRIES.\n\nA CHIPPEWA FABLE.\n\n\nThree cranberries were living in a lodge together. One was green, one\nwhite, and one red. They were sisters. There was snow on the ground; and\nas the men were absent, they felt afraid, and began to say to each\nother, \"What shall we do if the wolf comes?\" \"I,\" said the green one,\n\"will climb up a shingoub[69] tree.\" \"I,\" said the white one, \"will hide\nmyself in the kettle of boiled hommony;\" \"and I,\" said the red one,\n\"will conceal myself under the snow.\" Presently the wolves came, and\neach one did as she had said. But only one of the three had judged\nwisely. The wolves immediately ran to the kettle and ate up the corn,\nand, with it, the white cranberry. The red one was trampled to pieces by\ntheir feet, and her blood spotted the snow. But she who had climbed the\nthick spruce-tree escaped notice, and was saved.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[69] Spruce.\n\n\n\n\nPARADISE OPENED TO THE INDIANS.\n\n\n_Historical Note._--The following is a literal translation of the story\nrelated by the noted Algic chief Pontiac, to the Indian tribes whom he\nwished to bring into his views in forming his general confederacy\nagainst the Anglo-Saxon race in the last century. It is taken from an\nancient manuscript journal now in the possession of the Michigan\nHistorical Society. This journal, the preservation of which is due to\none of the French families at Detroit, appears to have been kept by a\nperson holding an official station, or intimate with the affairs of the\nday, during the siege of the fort of Detroit by the confederate Indians\nin 1763. It is minute in its details of the transactions of every day,\nfrom the investment of the fort until the disaster of the sortie made by\nthe English garrison in the direction of Bloody Run. And its\nauthenticity has never been brought into question. There is no air of\nexaggeration in the narrative. There is nothing recorded in the process\nof the negotiations, the siege, or the disclosure of the plot preceding\nit, which was not perfectly reasonable under the circumstances, and in\nkeeping with the character of the tribes and their means of action.\n\nThat a document of so much historical interest might be the better\npreserved, the society took measures, about a twelvemonth since, for its\ntranslation; and the tale here furnished is a transcript of this\nparticular portion of the journal. The only addition to the text\nconsists of the insertion of four or five words of ordinary use in the\nnarrative, which appear to have been obliterated by a chymical change in\nthe ink in a few places.\n\nWithout entering into the moral bearing of this curious specimen of\nIndian fiction, it may be regarded as no equivocal testimony of the\nsagacity and foresight of its celebrated author. To turn the mythology\nand superstitious belief of his auditors to political account, was\ncertainly a capital stroke of policy. And no stronger proof could,\nperhaps, be adduced of the existence of the popular belief on this head,\nand the prevalence, at that time, of oral tales and fanciful legends\namong the tribes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn Indian of the Lenapee[70] tribe, anxious to know the Master of Life,\nresolved, without mentioning his design to any one, to undertake a\njourney 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 favourable; he\nwalked a long time without being discouraged, having always a firm\nconviction that he should attain his aim. Eight days had already elapsed\nwithout his meeting with any one to oppose his desire. On the evening of\nthe eighth day, at sunset, he stopped as usual on the bank of a brook,\nat the entrance of a little prairie, a place which he thought favourable\nfor his night's encampment. As he was preparing his lodging, he\nperceived at the other end of the prairie three very wide and\nwell-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, nay,\neven frightened him; he hesitated a few moments. Was it better for him\nto remain in his camp, or seek another at some distance? While in this\nincertitude, he remembered his juggling, or rather his dream. He thought\nthat his only aim in undertaking his journey was to see the Master of\nLife. This restored him to his senses. He thought it probable that one\nof those three roads led to the place which he wished to visit. He\ntherefore resolved upon remaining in his camp until the morrow, when he\nwould, at random, take one of them. His curiosity, however, scarcely\nallowed him time to take his meal; he left his encampment and fire, and\ntook the widest of the paths. He followed it until the middle of the day\nwithout seeing anything to impede his progress; but, as he was resting a\nlittle to take breath, he suddenly perceived a large fire coming from\nunder ground. It excited his curiosity; he went towards it to see what\nit might be; but, as the fire appeared to increase as he drew nearer, he\nwas so overcome with fear, that he turned back and took the widest of\nthe other two paths. Having followed it for the same space of time as he\nhad the first, he perceived a similar spectacle. His fright, which had\nbeen lulled by the change of road, awoke, and he was obliged to take the\nthird path, in which he walked a whole day without seeing anything. All\nat once, a mountain of a marvellous whiteness burst upon his sight. This\nfilled him with astonishment; nevertheless, he took courage and advanced\nto examine 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 garments\nsurpassed that of snow. The woman said to him in his own language, \"You\nappear surprised to find no longer a path to reach your wishes. I know\nthat you have for a long time longed to see and speak to the Master of\nLife; and that you have undertaken this journey purposely to see him.\nThe way which leads to his abode is upon this mountain. To ascend it,\nyou must undress yourself completely, and leave all your accoutrements\nand clothing at the foot. No person shall injure them. You will then go\nand wash yourself in the river which I am now showing you, and afterward\nascend 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 he\nwas to accomplish it. She replied, that if he really wished to see the\nMaster of Life, he must, in mounting, only use his left hand and foot.\nThis appeared almost impossible to the Indian. Encouraged, however, by\nthe female, he commenced ascending, and succeeded after much trouble.\nWhen at the top, he was astonished to see no person, the woman having\ndisappeared. He found himself alone, and without a guide. Three unknown\nvillages were in sight; they were constructed on a different plan from\nhis own, much handsomer, and more regular. After a few moments'\nreflection, he took his way towards the handsomest. When about half way\nfrom the top of the mountain, he recollected that he was naked, and was\nafraid to proceed; but a voice told him to advance, and have no\napprehensions; that, as he had washed himself, he might walk in\nconfidence. He proceeded without hesitation to a place which appeared to\nbe the gate of the village, and stopped until some one came to open it.\nWhile he was considering the exterior of the village, the gate opened,\nand the Indian saw coming towards him a handsome man dressed all in\nwhite, who took him by the hand, and said he was going to satisfy his\nwishes by leading him to the presence of the Master of Life.\n\nThe Indian suffered himself to be conducted, and they arrived at a place\nof unequalled beauty. The Indian was lost in admiration. He there saw\nthe Master of Life, who took him by the hand, and gave him for a seat a\nhat 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, whom\nthou wishest to see, and to whom thou wishest to speak. Listen to that\nwhich I will tell thee for thyself and for all the Indians. I am the\nMaker of Heaven and earth, the trees, lakes, rivers, men, and all that\nthou seest or hast seen on the earth or in the heavens; and because I\nlove you, you must do my will; you must also avoid that which I hate; I\nhate you to drink as you do, until you lose your reason; I wish you not\nto fight one another; you take two wives, or run after other people's\nwives; you do wrong; I hate such conduct; you should have but one wife,\nand keep her until death. When you go to war, you juggle, you sing the\nmedicine song, thinking you speak to me; you deceive yourselves; it is\nto the Manito that you speak; he is a wicked spirit who induces you to\nevil, and, for want of knowing me, you listen to 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 not\ndo without them? I know that those whom you call the children of your\ngreat Father supply your wants. But, were you not wicked as you are, you\nwould not need them. You might live as you did before you knew them.\nBefore those whom you call your brothers had arrived, did not your bow\nand arrow maintain you? You needed neither gun, powder, nor any other\nobject. The flesh of animals was your food, their skins your raiment.\nBut when I saw you inclined to evil, I removed the animals into the\ndepths of the forests, that you might depend on your brothers for your\nnecessaries, for your clothing. Again become good and do my will, and I\nwill send animals for your sustenance. I do not, however, forbid\nsuffering among you your Father's children; I love them, they know me,\nthey pray to me; I supply their own wants, and give them that which they\nbring 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 there.\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 chiefs wigwam,\nand delivered to him the prayer and laws intrusted to his care by the\nMaster of Life.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[70] Delawares.--H. R. S.\n\n\nEND OF VOL. I.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Algic Researches, Comprising Inquiries Respecting the Mental Characteristics of the North American Indians, First Series. Indian Tales and Legends, Vol. 1 of 2","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":53517}