{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_58228/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_58228","id":"gutenberg_58228","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58228","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Cornplanter, Seneca chief, 1732?-1836","Iroquois Indians -- Folklore","Iroquois Indians -- Kings and rulers -- Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Tom Cosmas\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber Notes\n\n\nText emphasis displayed as _Italics_.\n\n\n\n\n_This is one of an edition of 500 copies printed October, 1902, of which\nthis is number_\n\n\n_The Legends of the Iroquois_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n  +--------------------------------------------------------------+\n  | +----------------------------------------------------------+ |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                _The Legends of the_                      | |\n  | |                     _Iroquois_                           | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                TOLD BY \"THE CORNPLANTER\"                 | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                      -----------                         | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                  _From Authoritative_                    | |\n  | |                  _Notes and Studies_                     | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                _By WILLIAM W. CANFIELD_                  | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                      [Illustration]                      | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                         _York_                           | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                   _A. Wessels Company_                   | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | |                         _MCMII_                          | |\n  | |                                                          | |\n  | +----------------------------------------------------------+ |\n  +--------------------------------------------------------------+\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1902\n\nBY\n\nA. WESSELS COMPANY\n\nNEW YORK\n\n(Published October, 1902)\n\n\n\n\n_Contents_\n\n\n  About Indian Legends                             9\n  The Authority                                   15\n  The Confederation of the Iroquois               23\n  Birth of the Arbutus                            41\n  A Legend of the River                           47\n  Legends of the Corn                             51\n  The First Winter                                55\n  The Great Mosquito                              59\n  The Story of Oniata                             63\n  The Mirror in the Water                         73\n  The Buzzard's Covering                          77\n  Origin of the Violet                            81\n  The Turtle Clan                                 85\n  The Healing Waters                              89\n  The Sacrifice of Aliquipiso                     99\n  Why the Animals do not Talk                    103\n  The Message Bearers                            119\n  The Wise Sachem's Gift                         123\n  The Flying Head                                125\n  The Ash Tree                                   127\n  The Hunter                                     129\n  Hiawatha                                       137\n  The Peacemaker                                 149\n  An Unwelcome Visitor                           155\n  Bits of Folk-Lore                              161\n  The Happy Hunting-Grounds                      169\n  The Sacred Stone of the Oneidas                187\n  Notes to the Legends                           197\n\n\n\n\n_About Indian Legends_\n\n\n\n\nABOUT INDIAN LEGENDS\n\nTHE Indians neither built monuments nor wrote books. The only records\nthey made were those picture writings known in after years as wampum,\nwhich were mere symbols, recording feats of arms. Consequently, all\nthat is known of them prior to the coming to America of Europeans is\ntraditional or conjectural. Not a page of their history has ever been\nwritten by any save their foes, and the history thus written is so\ndistorted and marred by prejudice that much of it is misleading.\n\nIn the veins of the red man ran the wild poetry and imagination of the\nhunt, the chase, the battle, the capture, the dance, the forests, the\nvalleys, the mountains, the streams, lakes and rivers, for a thousand\ngenerations; and yet they were without accomplishment in letters or\narts. Is it, therefore, strange that they held in great reverence the\ntraditions and legends common in their tribes--revered them as the early\nChristians revered the first copies of the sacred writings? These legends\nwere told over again and again for unknown years. They were transmitted\nfrom one to another, as the unwritten work of Freemasonry has been\ntransmitted by frequent and careful repetition. They were not bandied\nabout like ordinary stories, but, repeated with something of a religious\nor sacramental spirit, as though the tales imparted an especial virtue to\nthose who learned them from reliable sources; were held as sacred as we\nhold the transactions of an honored secret society.\n\nThe legends common to one clan were known all over the continent wherever\nIndians of that clan lived, and there is little doubt that many of the\nlegends of the Iroquois can be found in some form among those of the\nWestern Indian tribes of the present time. Yet the traditions of the\nIroquois herein contained are known positively to be two hundred years\nold, and are confidently believed to be the stories told by the red men\nthousands of years ago.\n\nThe Indians never explained anything by the science of natural\nphilosophy. Every effect had to them a mysterious, supernatural cause.\nThey could not comprehend how sound thrown against an obstructing surface\nwould be repeated and form an echo. Instead they found supernatural\nreasons for the phenomenon, and certainly very pretty ones. Only the\nabsurdity of their ideas may appear to some, for in the light of present\nintelligence they are absurd, but, none the less, they are beautiful.\nIf our forefathers had taken more interest in the peoples they found\non the Western Continent, spending less of their energies in devising\nplans for cheating the Indians out of their furs and lands--a policy\ntheir descendants have closely followed and admirably succeeded in--our\nlibraries might contain volumes of fairy tales that would delight the\nyouth of many generations.\n\nIt is not too much to ask the reader to remember that these stories were\ntold in the homes of the red men many centuries ago, long before they\nlearned from the whites the cruel, heartless, treacherous and vindictive\ncharacteristics that unfair history has fastened upon them as natural\nand inherent traits. If this is borne in mind, the perusal and study of\nthese stories will, it is believed, give as much pleasure to the reader\nas the study of the Indian character, made necessary in order to properly\nclothe their almost forgotten legends with something like their original\nembellishment, has given the author.\n\n\n\n\n_The Authority_\n\n\n\n\nTHE AUTHORITY\n\n\nIT is not the purpose of this volume to deal to any considerable extent\nwith the history of the Indians, but simply to present some of the\nlegends of the Iroquois. To the reader or student, however, is due a\nbrief statement as to the authority from which the folk-lore contained\nherein has been drawn, that there may remain no question as to its\nreliability.\n\nA few years after the close of the war of the Revolution one of the\npioneers of Western New York, who was in the service of the Holland\nLand Company, made the acquaintance and won the friendship of the\nSeneca chief, the Cornplanter, (Gy-ant-wah-chi, or, as written by some\nauthorities, Gar-yan-wah-ga). The friendship continued as long as the\ntwo men lived and was marked by its cordiality. In their intercourse\nthey were thrown together many winters, and the Cornplanter was led to\ntalk freely of his people, their past, their present condition, and\ntheir future, and it was during these confidences that the Indian told\nhis white friend many of the Iroquois legends. To the recollections of\nthe Cornplanter was added the knowledge possessed upon the subject by\nthe Nephew (Governor Blacksnake), who resided upon the same reservation\nand in the immediate vicinity, and that of \"other old men and leaders\nof these Indians.\" The legends were preserved in outline notes upon the\nblank pages of some diaries and civil engineer field-books which the\nwhite man was accustomed to keep; and these outlines, with full oral\nexplanations came finally into the possession of the present writer.\nAbout twenty-five years ago the work of their further verification by\nmeans of inquiries made of some of the most intelligent Indians in New\nYork State was commenced. Many of those consulted had only imperfect\nknowledge of the legends, others knew one or more of the stories, and,\nby aid of the outlines referred to above, were able to assist in the\nwork of their restoration. Among those who gave most valuable assistance\nwas Simon Blackchief and his mother. The latter spoke only in the Indian\ntongue, and her version of such of the stories as she had heard in her\ngirlhood was translated by her son. Chief John Mountpleasant, Harrison\nHalftown, Elias Johnson and John Kinjocity also gave valuable assistance.\nThe late B. Giles Casler, who was the United States Indian Agent for New\nYork State for a term of years, accompanied the author upon a number\nof visits to several of the reservations. Through these helps, and by\na study pursued under the favoring circumstance of former residence in\nclose proximity to the Allegany Reservation, the present writer believes\nthat he has succeeded in bringing these legends to a point approximating\ntheir original beauty. In their elaboration care has been taken not to\ndepart from the simplicity and directness of statement characteristic\nof the Indian, and only such additions that seemed to be warranted have\nbeen made. Whenever the primary authority for a legend is other than the\nCornplanter, the fact is mentioned in the appended notes.\n\nAlthough the Cornplanter was a half-breed, he was more thoroughly\nacquainted with the traditions of his people than any contemporary chief\nin the nations comprising the Iroquois. He was born in Conewangus, on the\nGenesee river, probably in the year 1732, and died on Cornplanter Island\nin the Allegany river, in the State of Pennsylvania, near the New York\nline, March 7, 1836, at the age of one hundred and four years. He was the\nson of John Abeel (also written O'Bail), a trader among the Indians. His\nmother was an Indian Princess of the Turtle Clan.\n\nFrom his earliest recollection the Cornplanter had a pronounced hatred\nof the whites, caused, no doubt, by the remembrance of the cruel\ntreatment to which his mother was subjected by his father, who seems to\nhave taken an Indian wife in order that he might gain the friendship\nof the Indians, and thus secure good bargains in trade. The errors of\nhistory have led us to believe that love or respect for a mother were\nsentiments almost foreign to the Indian race. These feelings always\nexisted among them, however, to a much greater degree than we are willing\nto concede, though their respect and love for women and children were\ngreater before their simple natures were blunted and distorted by the\nvicious practices of the invading Europeans.\n\nThe Cornplanter spent his early years at the council-fires, and became\none of the most celebrated orators in the Confederation of the Six\nNations. He traveled from village to village and sought wisdom from the\nsages of the Iroquois. It was during this portion of his life that he\nlistened to the traditions that had descended from chief to chief over a\nperiod of three centuries. When he had acquired a reputation for bravery\nand woodcraft second to none of his race, he was unanimously chosen\nChief of the Senecas, and came at once into prominence as the leader\nof the war-parties of that nation in alliance with the French against\nthe English. He was present at the defeat of Braddock, and, for a long\ntime, by the most daring and cruel raids on the frontier settlements,\nspread destruction in the Mohawk Valley and in Western New York. He was\nat that time an implacable foe to all white people, and the names of\nCornplanter, Brant, and Red Jacket were synonymous with capture, torture\nand massacre. They were the chief councilors and leaders of their people\nand fought against every overture made by the whites. In 1779, near the\nmouth of Redbank Creek, in Pennsylvania, the Cornplanter, with a large\nforce of Indians, engaged in battle against a party of whites, led by\nCaptain Samuel Brady. The engagement terminated in favor of the whites,\nand many of the Indians were killed or wounded. The survivors fled to the\nriver, then swollen with the spring rains, and dashed into its current.\nFew succeeded in crossing; one by one they were swept down the stream\nor sank, pierced by the bullets of Brady's men. The Cornplanter reached\nthe opposite shore almost alone. From that moment the high spirit of the\ndaring chieftain began to falter and he sought peace, making, in 1791, a\ntreaty with \"The Great Chief of the Thirteen Fires.\" The medal and other\nmementos given him by Washington are still preserved by the descendants\nof the chief. He was put in possession of the island that bears his name,\nand ever afterwards devoted himself to farming and pursuits of peace. For\nmany years he labored faithfully to eradicate the habits of intemperance\ninto which his people had fallen, and, strange as it may seem, was\nthe first temperance lecturer in the United States. He entertained\nthe highest respect for Washington, and visited him several times in\nPhiladelphia.\n\nIt was during the last twenty years of the Cornplanter's life that the\nlegends herein contained were recalled and told. He did not speak of them\ngenerally, for he held them sacred, but reserved them for the ears of\nthose in full sympathy with the people of which he was one of the last\ntrue representatives. He told them with an intensity of feeling that was\npitiful, for it was plain he realized that the greatness of his people\nhad disappeared, leaving neither monuments nor achievements to mark their\nplace in the history of the world.\n\nThe Cornplanter died a strong believer in the religion of the red\nmen, and looked forward with an eye of faith towards the Happy\nHunting-Grounds, for which countless generations of his people had been\ntaught to hope.\n\n\n\n\n_The Legends_\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFEDERATION OF THE IROQUOIS\n\n\nTHERE was peace in the land of the Senecas. The red men were away upon\nthe chase, or busied themselves in fashioning the arrow-points and in\nshaping the mighty bows from which the shafts of death were sent forth\nwhen food was needed in the wigwam. The Indian women stooped among the\nblades of growing corn and tilled the soil between the thrifty stalks\nwith sharp-pointed branches from the strong young hickory. The children\nran and leaped in the sunshine and their laughter filled the air and\nmingled with the low, crooning songs of the old men and women who watched\nthem, while dreams of their youth rose like phantoms from the past.\nUnder the fresh verdure of a new-born summer, groups of the young men\nand maidens were plaiting the soft and flexible willows into baskets,\nmats and coverings. Abroad on the hills the medicine men roamed, marking\nthe places where the prized and cherished herbs that drove away the bad\nspirits of suffering and sickness had put forth their vigorous shoots.\n\nThere was peace in the land of the Senecas, and for many moons they had\nwaged no war against their brothers. Their villages were growing in\nstrength; their numbers were increasing in greatness. The young men were\ntaught to follow the chase, but their ears had drunk the stones of wars,\nand their hearts burned to be upon the trail, seeking conquest over the\npowerful tribes of the Mohawks, Onondagas or Oneidas. When the soft winds\ncame, some of them said to their elders, \"We will go into the country of\nthe Mohawks and learn from our brothers there if the Manito gave them\ncorn for the winter, and if the venison was sweet to their tongues.\"\n\nFive suns they threaded the forests and sported along the pleasant\nstreams. At last they came upon some young men and maidens of the Mohawk\nnation engaged in preparing the ground for the maize. Forgetting the\ncounsels of their elders, or heedless of what they had said to them, and\neager to show their cunning, they surprised and bound the young Mohawks\nand carried them away as captives toward the land of the Senecas.\n\nWhen they had passed the homes of the Onondagas, which they did without\ndiscovery, they released one of the young men and told him to go back\nto the Mohawks and say to them that they would find their maidens in the\nwigwams of the Senecas, their young men slaves in the villages.\n\nThe wise men and sachems of the council shook, their heads gravely when\nthe young warriors boasted of their conquest, for they knew that the\npeace of the Senecas was broken.\n\nA few days had passed, when, one evening as the fires began to cast\ntheir red lights against the rough sides of the great trees, five Mohawk\nwarriors appeared at the council village of the Senecas.\n\n\"Let the swift runners say to the chiefs of the Senecas that the warriors\nof the Mohawks have been long upon the trail and must not sleep. By the\nlight of the council-fire they would tell the message that is sweet to\nthe tongues of the Mohawks but which will burn the ears of the Senecas\nwho listen.\" Thus spoke Orontadeka, the strong chief of the Mohawks,\nas he strode to the council-place of the Senecas, followed by the four\nsolemn and determined sachems who accompanied him on the mission. They at\nonce took seats upon the ground and in silence awaited the coming of the\nSenecas.\n\nSoon the fire-keepers of the tribe came to the council-place, and with\ndue ceremony started three fires. When the last was lighted, the Seneca\nchiefs, sachems and warriors took their stations in silence around the\nblazing resinous wood. Dark forms hurried from the well-beaten paths\nwhich led through the forest to the different villages of the Senecas,\nand, without a word or sign of recognition, the warriors who had been\nnotified by the swift runners and had come from their distant homes, took\ntheir places by the council-fire. At length, when all had assembled, the\nSeneca chief, Kanyego, arose and said:\n\n\"Will the great chiefs of the Mohawks eat?\"\n\n\"The Mohawks have heavy trouble on their hearts and the food of the\nSenecas would choke their voices,\" replied Orontadeka.\n\n\"Shall the bowl of the pipe be filled, that the Mohawks may be happy in\nits visions?\" again asked Kanyego.\n\n\"The Mohawks would see clearly, and the clouds from the peacemaker might\nblind their eyes,\" was the reply.\n\n\"The Senecas have food for their brothers, the Mohawks, and the\nfire-keepers have in readiness the pipe that the Great Spirit gave to\nour fathers,\" said Kanyego. \"The Senecas also have ears to hear what the\nMohawks would say. Let Orontadeka speak.\"\n\nRising suddenly from his crouching position on the ground, Orontadeka\nwalked rapidly around the council-fires several times and then addressed\nthe assemblage:\n\n\"My Brothers: When the warm suns came and the death-sheets of snow that\ncovered the ground were turned to leaping streams of laughing water, the\nMohawks were happy in their homes, where Kanyego has many times smoked\nthe pipe of peace and eaten the food given him by his brothers. The\nplague had not come from its home in the north during the winter, and the\nwigwams were fat with their store of corn and beans. The swift runners\nwent away to the shining waters beyond the big mountains, and after many\nsuns they returned to say that the enemies of the Mohawks had gone beyond\nthe great pine trees and would plant and till new fields and follow the\nchase in strange forests.\n\n\"My Brothers: The Mohawks were happy, for their wigwams had need to be\nmade greater, and there is much work for the men to do. The women and\nchildren sang because the warriors went not upon the trail, and the\nold men turned their thoughts to the passing of peaceful days in the\nvillages. Suddenly an alarm came to our ears, and the hopes in our hearts\nfled in terror. As the red fox steals upon the nest of the partridge\nand carries her chickens away to his home in the rocks, so came those\nwho should be our friends and took as prisoners three of our young men\nand their five sisters. When the great light drew within the door of his\nwigwam, the people in the village looked in vain for the coming of their\nchildren. The grief of the lonely parents whose children were lost went\nout to all our villages. After seven suns a party of our warriors came\nupon one of the young men wandering alone and without food in the forest.\nThen to our wondering ears came the story that his brothers were slaves\nin the land of the Senecas, and that his sisters had become the wives of\nthe Seneca robbers.\n\n\"My Brothers: The council-fire was lighted at night, for the Mohawks must\ntalk of war. Gwagonsha stood before his people and told them how he had\nheard the birds and the wind talking together in the tree-tops, and how\nthey agreed between them that the Senecas had wandered away toward the\nwarm lands, and the wolves now lived in their deserted lodges. Owennogon\nsaid that even the fishes knew that the Senecas were afraid to seek their\nslaves in the Cat Nation beyond the thundering waters, and for that\nreason they had sent out scouts to steal children. Kanentagoura stood\nbefore the council-fire and said that the women of the Senecas were no\nlonger young, but came into the world with many moons upon their heads,\nwhile their backs were bent with age, and wrinkles were upon their faces.\nIf the Seneca warriors would have wives they must steal them from the\nMohawks, the Onondagas or the Oneidas, for they had no wampum or canoes\nwith which to buy them. Kantaga told his people that their arrows must\nbe made ready and the thongs of their bows must be strengthened. If the\nSenecas had gone away to the warm lands, and wolves had taken possession\nof their villages, the wolves must be killed, for they were dangerous\nanimals. If the Senecas had become cowards and were afraid to seek their\nslaves in the Cat Nation, they should be killed, for the earth had no\nroom upon it for cowards. Or, if the women of the Senecas were such\nmonsters that they could not be taken as wives, and the Senecas had no\nwampum or canoes with which to buy maidens for their wigwams, then they\nmust surely be killed, for the Great Spirit was displeased with them.\n\n\"My Brothers: The warriors of the Mohawks set out at once through the\nforest-paths for the land of the Senecas, and when they reached the\nvillage of the Onondagas they told them the cause of their journey, and\nthe warriors of the Onondagas left their lodges to the care of the old\nmen and women and followed the Mohawks on the trail. They remain beside\nthe long waters while Orontadeka and his friends visit the council-fire\nof the Senecas. We look around us and we find that some of the stories\ntold of the Senecas are not true. The Senecas still inhabit their own\nlodges, and have not been driven away by wolves. Upon your streams and\nlakes are plenty of canoes, and in the wigwams hang many strings of\nwampum. The women of the Senecas are not old and ugly, for we see maidens\nhere whose eyes are like the fires lighted by the Great Spirit when the\nsun has gone in his wigwam, and whose forms are straight as the ash trees.\n\n\"But we know that the young men of the Mohawks were made slaves in the\nvillages of the Senecas, and that the Mohawk maidens are now the wives\nof your young chiefs. We are full of sorrow. We have not sought war, and\nwe know that much suffering must be the result, for the warriors of the\nMohawks and the Onondagas are many and their arrows are long. They will\nburn your villages and send many of your warriors to their long journey.\nYour wives and little ones will be driven helpless into the forest,\nand your old men will speak wisdom only to the fishes. The Senecas are\nchild-stealers and cowards, and the Mohawks and Onondagas will drive them\nto the warm lands, where they can wear the tobacco pouches of the women\nand become slaves.\"\n\nA murmur of sharp anger ran through the crowd of listening Senecas when\nthese bold words were spoken by Orontadeka. A sudden gesture of Kanyego,\nchief of the Senecas, suppressed it, however, and he rose to make his\nreply. For a long time he stood silent, with folded arms and bent head,\nand then he said:\n\n\"My Brothers: When Orontadeka, the Mohawk, has walked forth in the forest\nand has watched the young of the bear at play, he has seen that they are\nnever still, but are full of life and daring deeds, even though their\nparents reprove them with harsh voices. So has my brother seen the fawns\nrun like the wind across the plains, darting back and forth as though\nthey could never tire, until their elders draw in a circle about them and\nwill not let them out. My brother knows that the young men are as full of\nlife as the young animals, and, like the storms, cannot be restrained in\ntheir course by those who look upon their destructive ways with fear.\n\n\"When the young men of the Senecas journeyed on the trail they were\ncounseled by their elders to be wise, but their ears were stopped and\ntheir eyes were closed to the dangers that lay in their path. They forgot\nwhat had been told them, and from the homes of the Mohawks they brought\nmaidens for their wigwams. They had fears that the young Mohawk braves\nwould be lost in the forest without the maidens to guide them, and so\nthey led them to the land of the Senecas, where they might be taught to\nfashion the bow and be of use to the women in keeping the birds from\nthe corn. The chiefs and sachems of the Senecas were not pleased that\ntheir young warriors should have done this, but young men should never\nbe punished for deeds of bravery, even when they have forgotten the wise\ncounsel of the old men, lest they become cowards.\n\n\"My Brothers: If the Mohawks had come to the council-fire of the Senecas\nand asked that canoes and wampum and the warm furs of the bear and the\nbeaver be given them for their maidens the council would have heeded\ntheir request, for have we not plenty? Even the young Mohawks would have\nbeen returned to the care of their fathers, so that they might be kept\nsafe and not become wanderers where the wolves and panthers might harm\nthem. But the Mohawks have not thought best to do this, and have come to\nthe council-fire at night, when only war can be talked. They have refused\nto eat the food offered them by the Senecas, and when the fire-keepers\nwould light the peace-pipe, they turned their heads. They come to tell\nus that the warriors of the Mohawks have aroused the warriors of the\nOnondagas, who are now upon the trail, ready and waiting to destroy the\nhomes of the Senecas, and anxious to drive us from the land the Great\nSpirit gave us.\n\n\"When the red men of the valley have come to the council-fire of the\nSenecas without threats of war in their mouths they have always been\nwelcome, and when they had talked they departed in peace. But now they\ncome as spies and say that we are cowards, and bring the Mohawk and\nOnondaga warriors behind them to destroy our villages. For this reason\nlet the Mohawk chiefs remain at our council-fire and the young Mohawk men\nand women will be brought to keep them company. If the warriors of the\nMohawks and Onondagas come too close to the village of the Senecas they\nwill see Orontadeka and his friends start forth on the long journey, and\nthey will know that many will be sent to follow the same trail.\"\n\nThe Mohawks were wholly unprepared for this turn of affairs, which must\nhave been agreed upon by the Senecas before the council opened. They were\nquickly bound as prisoners. When the dawn broke the five Mohawk chiefs,\nwith the maidens and young men who had been stolen from their homes, were\nheld under a strong guard on a slight eminence near the village, and the\norder had been given that if the invading warriors approached the village\nOrontadeka and his fellow-prisoners should at once be put to death.\nScores of Seneca scouts were scouring the woods in every direction, and a\nyoung Seneca, fearless of the dangers to which he was exposed, had long\nago started on his way to the camp of the superior force to inform them\nthat the Mohawk chiefs were held as hostages. He fulfilled his mission\nand was at once made a prisoner.\n\nIn the Seneca village all was activity. The women and children were\nmaking ready to hurry away under guard, while the warriors were planning\nambuscades, in order that they might hold back the attacking force as\nlong as possible and cover the escape of their women and children toward\nthe south.\n\nThe sun rose higher in the heavens and the scouts of the Senecas returned\none by one from the forest, telling of the advance of a great war-party\nof Mohawks and Onondagas. Nearer and nearer they approached, evidently\nbelieving that their great numbers rendered caution unnecessary, and that\nthe Senecas would either flee in panic or sue for peace at whatever terms\nthe invaders might dictate. A short distance from the village a party of\nfive Senecas came forward to meet them, and in loud voices warned their\nfoes to approach no nearer if they would save the lives of their chiefs\nand of the Indian boys and girls held as prisoners with them. A halt was\ncalled and the attacking party was upon the point of parleying with the\nSenecas when the voice of Orontadeka was heard:\n\n\"The Senecas should be driven away by the warriors of the Mohawks and\nthe Onondagas,\" he cried, \"for not only are they child-stealers and\ncowards, but traitors, who have forgotten that the Great Spirit made the\ncouncil-fire and commanded that it should not be violated. Orontadeka is\nready to go on his long journey. Let the warriors advance and see the\ncowards run through the forest. Orontadeka and his friends will teach\nthem how to die.\"\n\nThe guards over the captive Mohawks seized their victims and raised their\nheavy stone-hatchets to strike the death-blows. The Mohawks and Onondagas\nknew that advance on their part meant certain death to their chiefs and\nthe other prisoners, but they prepared to go forward with a rush.\n\nThen the voice of one of the young Mohawk girls rose in a cry that\nfastened the attention of the warriors of both parties. Her gaze was\ndirected toward the sun, and from her lips came words that carried fear\nand consternation to all their hearts.\n\n\"See, see, my Brothers! The Great Spirit hides his smiling face and will\nnot look upon the battle of the red men. He will go away and leave them\nin darkness if they burn the villages and with their poisoned arrows send\nthe hunters and the women and the children on their long journey before\nthey have been called. Look thou, my brothers, he has seen the Mohawk\nmaidens happy in the lodges of the Senecas, and he will not look upon\nthem in misery and death. He hides his face, my brothers! He hides his\nface!\"\n\nA moan of terrible fear went up from the warriors men who could meet\ndeath on the chase or in the battle with a smile were unnerved by that\nawful spectacle. They saw a black disc moving forward over the face of an\nunclouded sun.\n\nThe guards released their prisoners and fell at their feet. Mohawks,\nSenecas and Onondagas mingled, imploring each other for pardon and\nprotesting the most profound friendship. The Seneca women and children\nhurried from the woods, where they had been in hiding, and lent their\nvoices to the general clamor of fear. The wild, savage faces, streaked\nwith the various colored earths and pigments, were turned in fearful\napprehension toward the fast-darkening heavens, becoming wilder and more\nsavage by the terrible fear that filled them. The sachems and wise men\nhid their faces in their fur robes, and the warriors groveled in terror\nupon the ground. The eagle, the hawk and flocks of smaller birds darted\nblindly among the branches of the trees, while strange cries of alarm and\ndistress came from every side. The panther and the bear ran whimpering\nand whining with the rabbit; the fox and other denizens of the forest\nsought the frightened red men for protection, or lay trembling and\npanting under the cover of some prostrate giant of the forest.\n\nOn, on crept that fearful black shadow, eating its way into the disc of\nthe beautiful sun, like a mighty demon that had come to blot out of\nexistence the source of light and warmth and life, while over the fresh\nand budding earth spread the ghostly gloom that never fails to inspire\nthe most careless observer with awe. The flowers that filled the woods\nwith such profusion closed as though night had suddenly fallen upon them;\nthe warmth and fragrance of the day that had opened with such glory gave\nway to the damps of evening, while the stars and planets appeared again\nin the heavens. Over the whole face of nature was thrown an unearthly,\ncadaverous hue, and in the sudden chill everything was cold and sodden\nwith the falling dew.\n\nAt last, through that awful gloom, the frightened and trembling red\nmen saw the once tall and erect, but now bent and tottering, form of\nSagoyountha, the aged sachem of the Senecas, creeping forth from his\nwigwam. Reaching the center of the terror-stricken assemblage, the aged\nman appeared to be suddenly endowed with the vigor of youth, and stood\nbefore them like a mighty warrior, while his scarred and wrinkled face,\nupon which had beaten the storms of more than a hundred winters, was\nturned toward the dread spectacle in the heavens, the like of which even\nSagoyountha had never looked upon. His voice rang once more with the\nclear tones that had awakened the echoes of the forests long before any\nof his listeners were born, and it sounded strangely sharp and loud in\nthe awesome silence that prevailed.\n\n\"My children, Sagoyountha speaks to you in the voice of the past, but\nhis eyes are looking into the future. The Great Spirit is angry with his\nchildren, for he would have them live in peace. He has drawn the door\nof his wigwam before his smiling face, and his children will see him no\nmore, unless they smoke the pipe that he gave their fathers when he sent\nthem forth from the Happy Hunting-Grounds. Sagoyountha has spoken. Will\nhis children hear his voice?\"\n\nKanyego sprang from the ground as though stung by an adder, and,\ncrouching low, ran rapidly to the village. He was absent but a few\nmoments, and came running once more to the circle of chiefs, bearing in\nhis hands the sacred pipe, in which was glowing the fragrant tobacco.\nFrom one to another it was hastily passed, while the anxious faces were\nupturned in mute appeal towards the darkened sun.\n\nLook! ah, look! The aged Sagoyountha reaches out his arms in\nsupplication, and the bright and dazzling edge of the beautiful orb of\nday once more appears!\n\nShouts of joy arise from the red men, while the women and children cry\naloud with gladness, as hope once more comes to their hearts. The aged\nSagoyountha sinks to the ground, and, with feeble voice and trembling\nlips, commences the chanting of his death-song. Fainter and fainter\nare the words borne upon the air as the light of the sun increases,\nand, finally, the breathless throng lose the tones wafted back from\nthe journeying spirit as it reaches the very portals of the Happy\nHunting-Grounds.\n\nIn the light of the twice-dawned day, and in the presence of the sacred\ndead, who had pointed out to the red men the path by which to escape the\ndispleasure of their Father, the Confederacy of the Iroquois was formed.\n\n\n\n\nBIRTH OF THE ARBUTUS\n\n\nMANY, many moons ago there lived an old man alone in his lodge beside a\nfrozen stream in the great forest beyond the wide waters of the northern\nlakes. His locks were long and white with age and frost. The fur of\nthe bear and cunning beaver covered his body, but none too warmly, for\nsnow and ice were everywhere. Over all the earth there was winter. The\nwinds came down the bleak mountain sides and wildly hurried through the\nbranches of the trees and bushes, looking for song-birds that they might\nchill to the heart. Even the evil spirits shivered in the desolation and\nsought to dig for themselves sheltering caves in the deep snow and ice.\nLonely and halting the old man went abroad in the forest, looking for the\nbroken branches that had fallen from the trees that he might keep alive\nthe fire in his lodge. Few fagots could he find, and in despair he again\nsought his lodge, where, hovering over the fading embers on his hearth,\nhe cried in anguish to the Great Spirit that he might not perish.\n\nThen the wind moaned in the tree-tops and circling through the forests\ncame back and blew aside the skin of the great bear hanging over his\nlodge door, and, lo! a beautiful maiden entered. Her cheeks were red like\nthe leaves of wild roses; her eyes were large and glowed like the eyes\nof the fawn at night; her hair was black as the wing of the crow, and so\nlong that it brushed the ground as she walked. Her hands were clad in\nwillow buds; over her head was a crown of flowers; her mantle was woven\nwith sweet grasses and ferns, and her moccasins were white lilies, laced\nand embroidered with the petals of honeysuckle. When she breathed, the\nair of the lodge became warm, and the cold winds rushed back in affright.\n\nThe old man looked in wonder at his strange visitor, and then opened\nhis lips and said: \"My daughter, thou art welcome to the poor shelter\nof my cheerless lodge. It is lonely and desolate, and the Great Spirit\nhas covered the fallen branches of the trees with his death-cloth that I\nmay not find them and light again the fire of my lodge. Come, sit thou\nhere and tell me whom thou art that thou dost wander like the deer in\nthe forest. Tell me also of thy country and what people gave thee such\nbeauty and grace, and then I, the desolate Manito, will tell thee of my\nvictories till thou dost weary of my greatness.\"\n\nThe maiden smiled, and the sunlight streamed forth and shot its warmth\nthrough the roof of the lodge. The desolate Manito filled his pipe of\nfriendship, and when he had drawn of the fragrant tobacco, he said: \"When\nI, the Manito, blow the breath from my nostrils the waters of the river\nstand still, the great waves on the lakes rest, and the murmurings of the\nstreams die away in silence.\"\n\nThen the maiden said: \"The Manito is great and strong and the waters know\nthe touch of his breath; but when I, the loved of the birds, smile, the\nflowers spring up over all the forest and the plains are covered with a\ncarpet of green.\"\n\nThen said the Manito: \"I shake my locks, and lo! the earth is wrapped in\nthe death-cloth of snow.\"\n\nThen the maiden replied: \"I breathe into the air and the warm rains\ncome and the death-cloth vanishes like the darkness when the great fire\nawakens from its bed in the morning.\"\n\nThen the Manito said: \"When I walk about, the leaves die on the trees and\nfall to the ground; the birds desert their nests and fly away beyond the\nlakes; the animals bury themselves in holes in the earth or in caves in\nthe mountain side, and the winds wail the death-chant over all the land.\"\n\n\"Ah, great is the Manito,\" said the maiden, \"and his mighty name is\nfeared by all living things in the land. 'Great is the Manito,' says all\nthe world, and his fame has spread among the children of the Great Spirit\ntill they crouch with fear and say: 'Mighty and cruel is the Manito!\nTerrible is the Manito, and more cruel and cunning in his tortures than\nthe red men. His strength is greater than the strength of the giant trees\nof the forest, for does he not rend them with his mighty hands?' But when\nI, the gentle maiden, walk forth, the trees cover with many leaves the\nnakedness which thou, the great Manito, hath caused; the birds sing in\nthe branches and build again the nests from which thou drivest them; the\nanimals seek their mates and rear their young; the wind sings soft and\npleasant music to the ears of the red man, while his wives and papooses\nsport in the warm sunshine near his wigwam.\"\n\nAs the maiden spoke, the lodge grew warm and bright, but the boasting\nManito heeded it not, for his head drooped forward on his breast, and he\nslept.\n\nThen the maiden passed her hands above the Manito's head and he began to\ngrow small. The blue birds came and filled the trees about the lodge and\nsang, while the rivers lifted up their waters and boiled with freedom.\nStreams of water poured from the Manito's mouth, and the garments that\ncovered his shrunken and vanishing form turned into bright and glistening\nleaves.\n\nThen the maiden knelt upon the ground and took from her bosom most\nprecious and beautiful rose-white flowers. She hid them under the leaves\nall about her, and as she breathed with love upon them, said:\n\n\"I give to you, oh! precious jewels, all my virtues and my sweetest\nbreath, and men shall pluck thee with bowed head and on bended knee.\"\n\nThen the maiden moved over the plains, the hills and the mountains. The\nbirds and the winds sang together in joyous chorus, while the flowers\nlifted up their heads and greeted her with fragrance.\n\nWherever she stepped, and nowhere else, grows the arbutus.\n\n\n\n\nA LEGEND OF THE RIVER\n\n\nMANY hundred moons ago there dwelt among the Senecas a maiden named\nTonadahwa, whom every young chief coveted to grace his wigwam. One of the\nyoung braves of her tribe had won her heart by imperiling his life to\nsave her from impending danger, and to none other would she listen. Her\nsmiles were all for her hero, and her eyes lighted like the sunbeams when\nhe was near.\n\nOne day the maiden was urging her canoe swiftly along the river, little\nthinking that great danger awaited her and threatened her life and\nhappiness. Darting along the bank of the stream, unseen by Tonadahwa,\nwas a young Seneca warrior, who had been a suitor for her hand, but whom\nshe had spurned and avoided. Her light canoe had borne her far from the\nvillage of the Senecas, when she suddenly heard what she supposed was\nthe call of her lover on the shore. Resting on her paddle, Tonadahwa\nlistened and again heard the welcome call that deepened the rich color in\nher rounded cheeks. Answering with a cry of joy, she headed the canoe\ntoward the bank, and with a few strokes sent it gliding underneath the\noverhanging branches.\n\nBut it was not the form of Tonadahwa's lover that sprang suddenly into\nthe canoe. It was that of the dark and angry rival, and she saw in his\nface a look of evil triumph.\n\nThe maiden uttered no shriek, gave expression to no surprise, though her\neyes darkened and her cheeks assumed a duskier hue. With an exclamation\nthat almost drove hope from Tonadahwa's heart, the hated lover caught the\npaddle from her hands and sent the light craft rapidly towards the middle\nof the stream.\n\nSuddenly a bright object cleft the air and an arrow sped from the bank\nof the river and buried itself between the shoulders of the cowardly\nabductor as he bent forward to clasp the shrinking maiden in his arms.\nWith a cry, the defeated rival leaped into the river, hurling the paddle\nfrom him as he sprang, and with his last remaining effort pushed the\ncanoe and its occupant far out into the rapid current. The whirling,\nseething rapids caught the helpless craft and bore it onward with\nterrific speed. Tonadahwa waved a farewell to her lover, and, chanting\nher death-song, which the pines along the shore caught and whispered,\nthe canoe went flying amid the mist and spray of that roaring tide.\n\nGreen as the emerald, save where whipped into white foam or enshrouded in\nmist, the river rushed on, and the frail canoe, tossed as a plaything at\nthe sport of the current, was whirled onward until lost in the roar and\ntumult of the impetuous flood.\n\nLike the wind the despairing lover flew along the shore to the high banks\noverlooking the falls. There he paused a moment until the canoe and its\nprecious freight were lost to view. Then, raising his arms a moment\ntoward the Happy Hunting-Grounds, he leaped into the fearful abyss.\n\nBut amid the pelting spray and beating flood appeared myriads of shadowy\nforms--spirits of the mighty braves who long before had found the land of\npleasant forests. Swiftly, yet gently, they lowered the form of the hero\nuntil he stood unharmed beneath the fall of roaring water, and received\nin his arms the unconscious form of Tonadahwa, which was held by the\nbraves to await his coming.\n\nClinging to the broken rocks, buffeted and blinded by the awful flood,\nthe daring and triumphant Seneca bore his loved burden to a place of\nsafety and watched with thankfulness her return to consciousness and\nlife.\n\nThe pine trees ever after gently murmured Tonadahwa's song, and, mingled\nwith the roar of waters, listening lovers through all succeeding time\ncan often hear the strange, weird cry of Tonadahwa's lover as he plunged\nheadlong after the beloved maiden.\n\n\n\n\nLEGENDS OF THE CORN\n\n\nAN old and honored chief went alone to the top of a high mountain to\nmeet the Great Spirit. The chief told the Great Spirit that the red men\nwere tired of the roots and herbs which, with the fruits that grew on\nthe trees and the bushes, made up their food, and he asked the Father to\nsend them some of the food used in the Happy Hunting-Grounds. The Great\nSpirit told the chief to take his wives and papooses and go forth in the\nmoon of rains and stand on one of the plains, not moving from the place\nwhere they stopped for the space of three suns. Then the Great Spirit\nwould come and give the Indians food. The chief went back to his people\nand told them what he had heard from the Great Spirit. When the moon of\nrains came they did as the chief had been directed. In three suns all\nhad fallen asleep. They were left undisturbed by the Indians, for this\npeculiar manifestation was regarded as a mark of especial favor. In a\nfew weeks the old chief and the members of his family had changed into\nluxuriant green plants. The council assembled, sent the wise men to\nvisit the field, and what they found there was corn.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLong and earnestly a young brave wooed a beautiful maiden, and at last\ngained her consent to live with him in his wigwam. But the days and\nnights were lonely without her and the young brave could not remain away\nfrom her lodge. Fearing that she might be stolen by one of her many\nadmirers, or that danger might come to her, he slept at night in the\nforest that he might be near to protect her. One night he was awakened\nby a light footstep and, starting up, saw his loved one stealing out of\nher lodge as a sleep-walker. He pursued her, but, as if fleeing in her\ndreams from a danger that threatened her life, she ran from him, speeding\nthrough the paths like the fleet-footed hare. On and on he followed, and\nfinally drew so near that he could hear her quick breath and the rapid\nbeating of her heart. With all his remaining strength the lover sprang\nforward and clasped the maiden's form to his breast. What was his grief\nand astonishment when he found that his arms clasped, not the maiden he\nloved, but a strange plant the like of which he had never seen before.\nThe maiden had awakened just as her lover overtook her, and had been so\nfrightened at her surroundings that she was transformed. She had raised\nher arms to her head just as her lover caught her, and her uplifted hands\nwere changed into ears of corn, and where her fingers caught her hair the\nmaize bears beautiful silken threads.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST WINTER\n\n\nTHERE was a time when the days were always of the same length, and it was\nalways summer. The red men lived continually in the smile of the Great\nSpirit, and they were happy. But there arose a chief who was so powerful\nthat he at last declared himself mightier than the Great Spirit, and\ntaught his brothers to go forth to the plains and mock the Great Spirit.\nThey would call upon the Great Spirit to come and fight with them, or\nwould challenge him to take away the crop of growing corn, or drive the\ngame from the woods; they would say he was an unkind father to keep to\nhimself and their dead brothers the Happy Hunting-Grounds, where the\nred men could hunt forever without weariness. They laughed at their old\nmen, who had feared for so many moons to reproach the Great Spirit for\nhis unfair treatment of the Indians, who were compelled to hunt and fish\nfor game for their wives and children, while their women had to plant\nthe corn and harvest it. \"In the Happy Hunting-Grounds,\" they said, \"the\nGreat Spirit feeds our brothers and their wives and does not let any\nfoes or dangers come upon them, but here he lets us go hungry many times.\nIf he is as great as you have said, why does he not take care of his\nchildren here?\"\n\nThen the Great Spirit told them he would turn his smiling face away from\nthem, so that they should have no more light and warmth, and must build\nfires in the forests if they would see.\n\nBut the red men laughed and taunted him, telling him that he had followed\none trail so long that he could not get out of it, but would have to come\nevery day and give them light and heat. Then they would dance and make\nfaces at him and taunt him with his helplessness.\n\nIn a few days the quick eyes of some of the red men saw in the morning\nthe face of the Great Spirit appear where it was not wont to appear, but\nthey were silent, fearing the jibes of their brothers. Finally duller\neyes noticed the change, and alarm and consternation spread among the\npeople. Each day brought less and less of the Great Spirit's smile and\nhis countenance was often hidden by dark clouds, while terrible storms\nbeat upon the frightened faces turned in appeal toward the heavens. The\nstrong braves and warriors became as women; the old men covered their\nheads with skins and starved in the forests; while the women in their\nlodges crooned the low, mournful wail of the death-song, and the papooses\ncrawled among the caves in the rocks and mountains and died unheeded.\nFrosts and snows came upon an unsheltered and stricken race, and many of\nthem perished.\n\nThen the Great Spirit, who had almost removed his face from the sight\nof the red men, had pity, and told them he would come back. Day after\nday the few that remained alive watched with joy the return of the sun.\nThey sang in praise of the approaching summer, and once more hailed\nwith thankfulness the first blades of growing corn as it burst from\nthe ground. The Great Spirit told his children that every year, as a\npunishment for the insults they had given their Father, they should feel\nfor a season the might of the power they had mocked; and they murmured\nnot, but bowed their heads in meekness.\n\nFrom the bodies of those who had perished of cold and hunger sprang all\nmanner of poisonous plants, which spread themselves over the earth to vex\nand endanger the lives of the Indians of all generations; and in after\nyears when any of the Indians from any reason \"ate of the fatal root,\" it\nwas said of them that they had \"eaten of the bodies of their brothers who\nhad defied the Great Spirit.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREAT MOSQUITO\n\n\nAN immense bird preyed upon the red men in all parts of the country.\nTheir homes were at no time safe from its ravages. Often it would carry\naway children playing beside the wigwams, or, like a bolt of lightning,\ndart from the sky and strike a woman or man bleeding and dying to the\nearth. Whole fields of corn had been destroyed in a single night by its\nravages, and its coming was so swift and terrible that the Indians hardly\ndared stir from the shelter of their houses. A strong party of Cayugas\nand Onondagas finally determined upon its death, no matter at what cost\nto themselves. A young warrior offered himself for the sacrifice. He was\nprovided with a quantity of raw-hide thongs, and repaired to one of the\nopen spaces, where it was believed the dreaded monster would discover\nand descend upon him. The young brave was to bind one of the thongs upon\nthe bird's feet or upon some portion of its body, if possible, before\nhe killed him, and then his companions, rushing from their place of\nconcealment, would try to slay the enemy that had been snared with such\ndifficulty. The preparations were elaborately made, and the young brave\nwent forth on his dangerous mission. I Three days he sat, chanting his\ndeath-song and awaiting the coming of his terrible fate. On the morning\nof the fourth day the sky was suddenly darkened and the watchers saw\nthat the great bird was slowly circling above the heroic young Cayuga.\nHe ceased his chanting, and, standing upright, shouted defiance to the\nalmost certain death that awaited him.\n\nWith a scream that turned the hearts of the waiting Indians cold with\nterror, the bird dropped upon its victim like a panther on his prey. A\nshort and terrible struggle took place and then the concealed warriors\nrushed forth to finish the work of their brave young companion, who had\nsucceeded in throwing one of the thongs over the great mosquito's neck.\nThey brought willing and ready hands to the battle, and the arrows poured\nupon the struggling mass like a storm of hail. After a long encounter\nthe bird was killed, and the young Cayuga smiled in triumph as his last\nglance rested upon the dead body of the monster.\n\nRunners were at once dispatched to the villages to inform the Indians\nof the victory, and soon vast numbers of them came to look upon their\nlong-dreaded enemy that had been slain at such cost. Its body was larger\nthan that of the largest bear they had ever seen, and the breadth of its\noutstretched wings was as great as the height of three men. Its talons\nwere as long as arrows, and its monstrous beak was lined with sharp\nteeth. There was much rejoicing over the great mosquito's death, and for\nseveral days feasting and dancing were held in honor of the bravery of\nthose who had rid the country of such a terrible scourge. Soon, however,\nswarms of the poisonous little flies that have been the pests of all\nnations since that time, infested the woods, and the Indians discovered\nthat they came from the body of the dead bird. Too late they realized\nthat the body of the great mosquito should have been burned when it was\nfirst slain, for fire is ever the destroyer of evil spirits.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ONIATA\n\nA MAIDEN more beautiful than had ever before been seen came into the\nhouse of a great chief and grew to womanhood by his fireside. All the\ntribes within a distance of many long journeys paid her homage, for,\nthough her eyes were as dark as the depths of the pool in the rocks, her\nskin was as fair as that of the palefaces who came thousands of years\nafterwards, and her hair was borrowed from the rays of the sun.\n\nThe great chief was honored above all his people on account of his\nbeautiful daughter, for she could work charms that drove away the evil\nspirits of sickness, and when her father went to battle or followed the\nchase he was ever successful, for he carried with him the maiden's smiles\nto daze and blind his enemies, or to aid in his search for the hidden\ntrail. Her songs were so full of music that when she sang the wild birds\nwere silent in the branches of the trees, and listened that they might\ncatch the tones of her voice. When she laughed the waters in the mountain\nstreams sought the deep pools and for very shame stopped their noisy\nclamor. Her feet were so small and delicate that only the skins of fawns\nwere used to make her moccasins. The snow that lay over the earth in\nwinter was no whiter than her skin, and her cheeks were like the first\ncoming of the sun on the mornings when the corn is ripe. Never before had\nthe Indians seen one so beautiful, and the wise men whispered that she\nhad been sent by the Great Spirit from the Happy Hunting-Grounds to teach\nthe Indians what beauties awaited them when they had journeyed to their\nlong home.\n\nOver all the land spread the story of this wondrous maiden, like the\ntidings of a bountiful harvest or the boastings of a successful chase.\nFrom the villages far away came the young chiefs and warriors, and\nwhen they had looked upon this lily of the forest and heard the music\nof her voice they no longer had hearts for the hunt, but spent their\ndays in trying to win approving glances from the dark eyes of Oniata,\nthe daughter of Tiogaughwa. They brought for her the most gorgeous and\nelaborate head-dresses of wampum, in which were woven the quills and\nfeathers of the birds their cunning had been able to ensnare. They\nperformed the most wonderful feats of agility and endurance, often vying\nwith each other until even their rugged natures could not withstand the\nterrible self-imposed ordeals, and some sank exhausted or dying, while\nthe more fortunate ones shouted cries of triumph and victory, loudly\nboasting of their own powers and strength.\n\nTiogaughwa, the father of Oniata, was filled with pride at the attention\nshown his daughter. His lodge was rich with presents of rare furs and\nstrings of wampum that had been laid at her feet; the medicine of the\nwisest chiefs was freely placed at his disposal; he could have allied\nhis tribe with the most powerful--for the greatest chiefs and the most\nrenowned warriors sought to wed the beautiful Oniata.\n\nBut there came a change to these happy days of the old chief, Tiogaughwa.\nOne day the chiefs and warriors were surprised to see the council-place\nfilled with the women and maidens from all the country around. They\ndeserted their lodges, left the fires to the care of the old men and\nchildren, and, without heeding the dark looks of their husbands, sons or\nbrothers, took the places usually occupied by the wise men of the nation.\nWhen all were assembled, the wives of five of the principal chiefs\nwere sent to ask Tiogaughwa and the chiefs and wise men to come to the\ncouncil-fires.\n\nWhen the chiefs and wise men were seated a silence fell on the\nassemblage. At last it was broken by the first faint notes of the\nmourning song of an Indian maiden for a lover who had been slain in\nbattle. Others joined the chant and the weird chorus was caught up by the\nhundreds of women assembled, and filled the forests with notes of sorrow.\nThe song ceased, but its last note had scarcely died away before another\ntook its place. The Indian wives commenced chanting the sorrowful story\nit was the custom of a deserted wife to sing in her lonely lodge when her\nhusband had left her to join another more congenial to his fancy. When\ntheir complaint had ended, the women sat a long time with bowed heads.\nFinally the wife of one of the chiefs--a tall, lithe, beautiful young\nprincess--stepped before the chiefs and sachems and said:\n\n\"We have come to the council-fires, oh! my brothers, that we might\ntogether tell the Great Spirit that the lovers of the Indian maidens\nare dead, and to ask him to meet them at the borders of the Happy\nHunting-Grounds. We have come, too, oh! my brothers, to tell the Great\nSpirit that the bad spirits have caught the ears of our husbands and have\ntold them tales that have led them from our lodges, and their wives and\npapooses are sick with hunger. No longer is the smile of the dark maiden\nsought by the young braves. She plaits her hair with flowers and wampum\nand sits in the forests to await the coming of her mate; but the young\nbraves come no more to woo her, nor can they be found on the track of the\nbear or the panther. They loll with the dogs in the shadow of Oniata's\nwigwam and glare like the hard-wounded boar at the dark maidens who\napproach them. They are dead, and the hearts of the Indian maidens are\nfull of sorrow.\n\n\"The wives cover their heads with wolf skins and tell the Great Spirit\nthat their husbands have deserted them. Day after day they have kept the\nlodge fires burning, but the hunters come not to sit in the light and\ntell the stories of the chase. The feeble old men and boys have tried to\nfollow the hunt that they might provide the women with food. The papooses\nhave sickened and died, and the death-song has been raised many times.\nBut the warriors come not. They have forgotten their homes, as they lie\nin their camps near the lodge of the white lily, where they are held in\nsleep by the smiles of the Oniata.\n\n\"Have the dark maidens lost their beauty, that their glances can never\nagain bring life to the hearts of the young braves? Have the dark wives\nrefused to do the bidding of their husbands that they should be deserted\nlike sick and wounded dogs fallen in the chase?\n\n\"My brothers, Waunopeta, the wife of Torwauquanda, has spoken, and her\nsisters have told her to say that if they no longer please the hearts\nof the red men they ask to be sent on the long journey to the Happy\nHunting-Grounds.\"\n\nAs Waunopeta ceased speaking and took her place among the crouching forms\nof the women, there was a movement on the outer edge of the circle, and\nin an instant Oniata stood in the centre of the council-place. There\nwas an exclamation of interest as this vision of wonderful beauty burst\nupon them. Many had never seen her, and they were almost blinded by\na loveliness that was previous to that time unknown to the race. She\nwas clothed in the richest of skins, and her hair fell like a cloud of\nsun-kissed mist over her beautiful shoulders. Her cheeks burned with\ntints that betrayed her common ancestry with her dark sisters whom she\nhad unwittingly troubled.\n\n\"Oniata is here!\" she cried, as she looked around at the dark faces\nbefore her, with eyes like those of the hunted fawn. \"Oniata is here to\nsay that she has not asked for the smiles of the young braves. They\ncame around her wigwam and drove away the dream-god with their cries\nand love-songs; but she covered her ears with the skins of the beaver\nand would not listen to them. When Oniata went forth to the forest they\nappeared before her like the thunder clouds, and she went back to her\nwigwam and could not look at her father, the sun. The warriors came to\nthe lodge of the white lily and with shouts and cries told the Oniata\nthat their wives and children should be the white lily's slaves if she\nwould look out of her lodge upon them. But the Oniata called the women\nof her wigwam about her and they laughed in the faces of the warriors.\nOniata loves her sisters, but they are angry at the white lily and ask\nthat she be sent away to the long home where she shall be seen no more\nby the braves and warriors. She will go from the home of the red men and\nher dark sisters--far away beyond the mountains and the great lakes--and\nthe braves will return to life for the dark maidens and seek them with\nlove-songs in the forests, while the warriors will once more go to their\nwigwams where their wives and papooses await them. But her people will\nremember the Oniata, for she will kiss the flowers in the forests as she\ngoes.\n\n\"My sisters, the Oniata, daughter of the sun and the great chief\nTiogaughwa, has spoken.\"\n\nShe waved her hand, and the circle of listening men and women parted\nthat she might walk through. The chief, Torwauquanda, started forward to\nfollow her, but the dark princess, Waunopeta, stood in his pathway, and\nhe knew by the looks of the menacing faces about him that the white lily\nwould go alone.\n\nTiogaughwa rose as his daughter moved rapidly away, and said: \"Oniata has\nspoken well. She will go in peace. The scalp-lock of the warrior that\nfollows her will hang in Tiogaughwa's wigwam.\"\n\nThe old chief turned and folded his arms over his breast, watching with\npathetic love the fast disappearing form of his daughter.\n\nOut into the forest went the Oniata--the loved of the sunshine, the dream\nof the Indian--and the solemn council sat in silence as the beautiful\nvision faded forever from their view.\n\nFar away from her people she wandered, never stopping to look back toward\nthe home she had loved. The sun warmed her pathway for many days, and at\nnight the sister of the sun smiled through the branches of the trees and\nlighted the forest so the Oniata would not miss her lodge-fire as she\nslept. When she rested beside the clear streams she caught to her bosom\nthe blossoms that covered the banks and breathed into their faces the\nlove she had borne for her dark sisters and her home. The fragrance of\nher love filled their hearts and from that time they have freely given\ntheir love to others, as Oniata bade them when she pressed them to her\nlips and kissed them in her loneliness. When the clouds came and the\nrain fell, Oniata was sheltered by the thick branches of the trees, and\nwhen the rain had ceased she pulled the branches down, and pressing her\ncheeks against them, thanked them for their kindness. The trees learned\ngentleness from the maiden, and their blossoms have ever since spread\ntheir grateful perfume on the air.\n\nMany moons passed. The dark maidens were again wooed by the young braves,\nand the wives of the warriors were happy in the return of their husbands.\nThe winter came and cast its white cloud over the land, and the frosts\nlocked the rivers in prison houses of ice. But Oniata came not to the\nhome of her people.\n\nThe great Tiogaughwa mourned his daughter in his lonely wigwam, and his\nheart sang her death-song as he sat before the fire-place, in which no\nfire was lighted, and bowed his head in mournful silence.\n\nThe warm winds came again, and the young men and maidens were once more\nfilling the forests with their love-songs, while with laughter they\nchanted the praises of their mates. Tiogaughwa saw all this, but his\nheart was heavy and he had no words for the council-fire, no strength for\nthe chase. He left his people and walked away in the path that had been\ntaken by Oniata. Wherever he went the wild flowers raised their heads\nand told him they had been kissed by Oniata, and the great Tiogaughwa\nfell down beside them and caught the fragrance of her breath. When the\ndew and the rain were upon them he could see once more the beauty of her\neyes, and the gentle songs of the soft winds through the trees that had\nsheltered Oniata and had felt the loving touch of her caresses, told the\ngreat Tiogaughwa that the light of his wigwam awaited his coming in the\nlong home.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MIRROR IN THE WATER\n\n\nWHEN the Great Spirit made the earth and put the water in the deep\nvalleys to form lakes, and built the springs in the mountains to form\nstreams and rivers, he did not give to the water the power to show within\nits surface his children's faces or to make the trees appear to grow\nwith their branches pointing deep into the ground. For many thousands\nof summers the younger sister of the sun was never seen far down in the\nbosom of the lake at night, and many times young men grew old and died\nbefore the sun could see himself in the river, the warriors could put on\ntheir war-paint by the deep pool in the woods, or the maidens plait their\nbraids with their smiling faces reflected from the laughing stream that\nflowed beside the wigwams.\n\nThe red men lived together peacefully and happily then beside a great\nriver. One day the young hunters came home in haste from the chase and\nreported the coming of many strange people from beyond the river. They\nsaid the strange men carried bows twice the height of the tallest chief\nknown in the peaceful tribes, or held in their hands branches of trees\nto which were attached sharpened stones of great size. The chiefs and\nwise men assembled, and scouts and runners were sent forth to see if the\nyoung hunters had not been deceived by the evil spirits of the woods.\nBut the young hunters had not looked with double eyes, and the strange\nwarriors were as many as the pebbles on the bank of the river. The hearts\nof the red men were filled with fear, for they knew not then how to fight\nagainst such numbers, and the sachems arose from the council-fire and\nwent forth to the cave in the rocks where the Great Spirit talked with\nthem. The Great Spirit told his children that he would care for them and\nprotect them from the strange warriors, and he told the people to fear\nnot, but to obey the three fathers and fire-keepers of the nation. When\nthe night came the fathers told the men and women to build many fires on\nthe shore of the river, and when the fires were built the red men were\nfilled with fear to see burning, deep down in the water, a fire for each\nfire on the shore.\n\nThe strange warriors also saw these fires in the water, and they were\nfrightened and dared not cross the river in the night to destroy them.\nBut with the morning the strange warriors once more took courage and\nplunged into the river to swim to the shore where the children of the\nGreat Spirit dwelt. Then the Great Spirit loosed the spirits of the storm\nand they rushed down the mountain and out upon the river, and when he\ncalled them back the strange warriors were not to be seen. Then the red\nmen went forth in their canoes and the water of the river was clear and\nwhite. They looked down and saw first their own faces and above them the\nsmiling face of the Great Spirit; and then, down deep in the water, they\nsaw the bodies of the strange men who had come to destroy them.\n\nThe water never changed again, for the Great Spirit saw it gave his\nchildren pleasure, and he loved his children then.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BUZZARD'S COVERING\n\n\nIN the beginning, the birds were created naked, but because of their\nill-shaped bodies and long legs they were ashamed and remained in hiding.\nAt that time their throats had not been so arranged that they could sing.\nA long time afterwards they learned their music from the falling rain\nand the whistling wind. But they could talk, and with loud voices they\nbewailed their fate. Finally, with one accord, they began to cry and\nshout as loud as they could, asking that they be provided with coverings.\nThe Great Spirit thereupon sent them word that their dresses were all\nready, but that he did not have time to come and see that they were\nproperly fitted. If they were in need of their raiment they must either\ngo or send to a particular place a long way off, where they would find\nthe coverings.\n\nA vote for a messenger was taken and the turkey buzzard was chosen\nbecause he was so strong and hardy. He started proudly on his mission,\nbut the distance was so great that he became nearly famished before\nreaching his destination, and, contrary to his habits in those days, he\nwas compelled to eat carrion to sustain life. At last he came to the\nappointed place and found the coverings ready. As a reward for making\nthe journey, the buzzard had been given first choice of the garments.\nHe at once selected the most beautiful of the lot, but upon trying it\ndiscovered that he could not fly well with so many long feathers to\nmanage, and so he laid the dress aside and tried others. One he feared\nwould soil too easily; another was not warm enough to satisfy his taste;\na third was too light-colored and would render him too conspicuous; a\nfourth was composed of too many pieces and would require too much of his\ntime to care for it. So he went from one to another, finding some fault\nwith each, until there was but one suit left the plainest of all. As the\nbuzzard had been expressly forbidden to try on any of the coverings more\nthan once, he had but one choice left, and must either accept the plain,\nhomely, coarse suit he has since worn or go naked.\n\nOften when the birds hold councils in the woods they talk quite sharply\nto the buzzard for his uncleanly habits. He never fails to retort that\nhis ancestor acquired them while doing a great service for others, and\nhe closes the discussion by reminding them that they have no special\nreason to be vain, as he had choice of all the bird coverings and took\nthe one that pleased him best.\n\n\n\n\nORIGIN OF THE VIOLET\n\n\nTHERE was a brave Indian many moons before the white man came to the land\nof his fathers who was the pride of all the men of the east. Though he\nwas young, yet among his people his word was law and his counsels were\nlistened to by the older chiefs with much attention. Three times had he\ndone his people service they could never forget. Once, the great heron,\nthat had preyed upon the children of the tribe for a long time, had\nfallen pierced to the heart by the arrow from his bow. He had gone alone\nand unarmed many days' journey without food to the mountain where dwelt\nthe witches, and brought from the medicine caves the roots that cured\nhis people of the plague. The third great service was when he had led a\nband of warriors against their enemies over the mountains and returned\nvictorious. But on this journey the young warrior had seen a maiden\nwhom he loved, and he wanted her for his wigwam. The maiden dwelt among\nthe tribe that had felt the weight of the young chief's blow, and the\nwarfare between them prevented his buying her with the quills of the\nwampum bird, as he could have done had she been one of his own people.\nAnd yet, the young chief thought, unless he could light his wigwam with\nthe brightness of the maiden's eyes, his heart would no longer be brave\nand he could not lead his young men to battle. For many moons he was in\nhiding in the woods near the village of his foes, patiently watching for\nthe maiden whose eyes had softened his heart. He sang the praises of his\nloved one so often to the birds as he crouched near their nests in the\nbranches of the trees that they took up his song and bore it with them in\ntheir flight over I the plains and valleys. So often did the bear, the\nfox and the beaver hear the praise of the maiden murmured by the young\nchief in his sleep that they thought the forests had brought forth a new\nflower of more radiant beauty than any they had seen.\n\nAt last the young chief's vigils and waiting were rewarded, for one day\nthe maiden wandered into the forest. With the calls of the song-birds and\nby singing her praises he lured her far from her home, and then he seized\nand bore her away toward the hunting-grounds and village of his people.\nThe maiden had been watched by the jealous eyes of a young brave who\nwas her suitor, but he was cowardly, and when he saw her borne swiftly\naway on the shoulders of the dreaded chief, he dared not follow, but ran\nswiftly back to the village to give the alarm. The braves placed him in\nthe hands of the women because he was a coward, and started quickly in\npursuit of the girl and her captor. All night they followed them over\nthe rugged mountains and through the dark forests. In the morning they\novertook them and were filled with rage when they saw that the maiden was\na willing captive, for she had given her heart to the strong young chief,\nknowing that he was brave and loved her. To signify her willingness to go\nwith him she had plaited the braids of her hair about his neck, as was\nthe customary way among them to indicate a marriage. Enraged at their foe\nfor his daring and at the girl for deserting her people, the pursuing\nwarriors killed them both on the spot and left their bodies where they\nfell--the great braids of the maiden's hair encircling her lover's neck.\n\nFrom this spot sprang the violets; and the winds and birds carried the\nseeds of the little flowers over all the world, into all countries where\nmen dare and maidens love, so that the Indians of all ages might know\nthat the Great Spirit would always raise a monument to true love and\nbravery.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TURTLE CLAN\n\n\nTHEN the Great Spirit created the turtles he gave them a vast lake in and\nabout which they could reside, and where they would never be molested by\neither animals or people. But the turtles were not satisfied with the\nshape of the lake, and found fault with the hard, gravelly bottom and\nclear water. So they set to work to bring all the mud they could find on\nthe plains surrounding it, and spread the loads of loose soil over the\nbottom of the lake where they were accustomed to lie. So many of them\ncarried on the work that the lake was finally filled with the mud, and\nbecame so shallow that during one particularly hot summer it was entirely\ndry. Then the turtles held council and decided that the only way left\nto them was to set out to find a place where there was good water. One,\na particularly wise and intelligent old fellow, urged his brethren to\ndecide first upon some fixed course to follow and then by all means to\nremain together. Said he: \"If we do this we will not only know exactly\nwhere we are going, but we can help each other. There are a great many\nof us, and if any foe attacks us we can together repel the attack, for\nwith our stone backs and sharp jaws we are well equipped for battle. Let\nme tell you, my brothers, that the world is full of dangers, and unless\nwe are banded together and stand by each other, we will be scattered and\nlose our standing as a nation.\"\n\nTo this wise counsel the turtles apparently agreed, but each one wanted\nthe honor of presenting the plan that was to be followed, and each also\nwanted the distinction of being chosen to lead his fellows. The wise old\nturtle made every effort at conciliation and proposed several plans, any\none of which if accepted would have made the turtles a great and powerful\nnation, but they could come to no agreement. At last the commotion became\nso great that the voice of the wise turtle was drowned in the clamor,\nand he was powerless to counsel his fellows any further. Finally each\nturtle started off by himself, bound to follow his own inclinations, as\nthe turtles have done ever since. At this foolish course the wise turtle\nbecame very angry. \"Fools!\" he cried, \"I am ashamed to be counted as one\nof the turtle race, and although in memory of the forefathers whom I\nhonor, I will always bear on my breast the form of a turtle, henceforth I\nwill not be a turtle.\"\n\nWith a tremendous effort he threw the shell from his back and leaped\nforth, a fully armed and painted warrior. The turtles were terribly\nfrightened and made off as fast as they could. From that day they have\nbeen wanderers.\n\nThe wise turtle became the progenitor of the turtle clan. He taught his\nchildren to deliberate carefully upon all matters of importance; to give\nattention and careful consideration to the counsels of their elders; and\nto work in unity in whatever they undertook.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEALING WATERS\n\n\nNEKUMONTA, the strongest and bravest chief of the Mohawks, wandered alone\nin silence through the primeval forest. The giant pines looked down upon\nhim with frowns; the moss, dark and sodden on the maples with rain, gave\nonly a gloomy greeting; the low beeches brushed against his anxious\nface, and as he passed beneath them chilling showers fell from their icy\nbranches. Across his path the snarling panther crept in sullen anger;\nthe frightened rabbit sped away to its nest under the prostrate log; his\nbrother the bear turned aside and looked with sadness upon the troubled\nface of Nekumonta as he hurried forward in the fast gathering darkness.\nIn all the forest no kindly sight came to comfort the strong and brave\nchief of the Mohawks, whose footsteps were heavy with fatigue and whose\nheart was burdened with sorrow.\n\nThrough the cheerless, awful moons of snows and frosts the plague had\nraged in the village of the Mohawks. Many days and nights had the\ndeath-song been chanted for men, and women, and children. Few were\nuntouched by the terrible sickness, and the medicine men of the tribe\nhad long since seen the last of hoarded stores of herbs which they used\nto put to flight the bad spirits. The strong and brave Nekumonta and the\nlight of his wigwam, Shanewis, had watched the fires of life go out many\ntimes. They knew that the Happy Hunting-Grounds rang with the shouts and\nlaughter of their brothers and sisters; they sent them messages by the\nechoing spirits and told them to watch for their coming; but they were\nsaddened because their brothers and sisters had gone on the long journey.\nThe home of the Mohawks was full of pleasure when the hunters and the\nwomen, the young men, the maidens and the children worked together in the\nfields of growing corn, or gathered at night around the lodge-fire and\nlistened to the legends told by the aged.\n\nAt last the soft winds came, and their mellow songs drove the cold and\ndarkness from the valley. With their first notes came hope--hope that\nwhen the awful winter had gone to his home in the north the plague would\nalso take its flight from the village.\n\nThen Nekumonta's heart died, for Shanewis, the light of his wigwam, was\nstricken, and from her couch of furs smiled sadly as she whispered:\n\"Shanewis must fight with the bad spirits. She would not leave Nekumonta,\nthe strong and brave one of the Mohawks, but her brothers and sisters\ncall to her from their long home.\"\n\nFor a moment Nekumonta stood erect, while upon his face came the shadows\nof despair. As the weary hunter loses control of his canoe and sees below\nhim the rapids that in terrible fury play with their victim ere they hurl\nit over the precipice of death; or, as the warrior who with rising hopes\nhas long withstood his foes, would see their reinforcements come when his\narm has lost its power, so upon Nekumonta came the realization of the\nstruggle yet to come. But his brave heart failed not, and bending over\nthe shivering form of his loved Shanewis, he said:\n\n\"Shanewis shall live. Let her fight the bad spirits, and tell her\nbrothers and sisters who call to her that she cannot go to her long home\nfor many moons. Nekumonta has said it. He will find the healing vines of\nthe Great Spirit, and Shanewis shall live.\"\n\nThe robe that covered the entrance of the lodge was pushed aside, and the\nchief of the Mohawks hurried away into the forest.\n\nIn many places the snows were not melted. The roots were locked in their\nbeds by the frost, and the medicine herbs had not yet awakened from their\nsleep. Running through the open fields, looking anxiously among the\nrocks, crawling under the fallen trees, hurrying with despair over the\nbarren hills, swimming the swollen streams and rivers, darting along the\nshores of the half-frozen lakes, penetrating the gloom of the forbidding\nforests, stopping neither for rest nor for food, Nekumonta searched,\nrepeating again and again, until the woods and fields were burdened with\nthe words: \"Shanewis shall live! Nekumonta will find the healing vines of\nthe Great Spirit, and Shanewis shall live!\"\n\nThree suns had passed since he left his lodge, and still his weary quest\nwas in vain. Wherever he looked only dead leaves and withered vines were\nto be found. When darkness came and he could no longer see, the anxious\nsearcher had, on his hands and knees, crept onward all the night, hoping\nthat his keen scent would discover what his sight had failed to disclose\nduring the day. At the decline of the third sun, stumbling forward in the\ngathering darkness, Nekumonta fell exhausted to the earth and the Great\nSpirit touched his eyes with sleep.\n\nThen the dream-god came and Nekumonta saw Shanewis lying sleepless on her\ncouch of furs and heard her calling his name gently and with tenderness.\nHe saw that the plague ran through her veins like the fires that swept\nthe forest when the rustling leaves lay thick upon the ground. Then he\nsaw her creep to the door of the lodge and push aside the robe that shut\nout the cold winds. Long and earnestly she looked into the darkness,\ncalling him to hasten to her side. He reached forward to clasp her in his\narms, and the vision faded. Now he was in his canoe, which the taunting\nspirits of the plague were pushing down the river, and they laughed and\nshouted in derision as he tried to catch the medicine plants that grew in\ngreat abundance along the shores. Again, he was with his loved Shanewis\nin the cornfields, filling the great baskets with roasting ears to be\ntaken to the fires where danced and sang the red men in honor of the\nripening harvest. Then the voices of the singers changed into low and\nmurmuring sounds, which finally grew more distinct until Nekumonta heard\nthe words:\n\n\"Strong and brave chief of the Mohawks, we are the healing waters of the\nGreat Spirit. Take us from our prison and thy loved Shanewis shall live.\"\n\nStarting from his slumbers like an arrow from the bow, Nekumonta cast off\nthe dream-god and stood in the first light of the smiling face of the\nGreat Spirit as he came from his wigwam to open the new day. Swiftly his\nglance darted from side to side, searching in vain every tree and bush,\nevery rock and stone for evidence of the presence of some one who could\nhave uttered the words that had come so distinctly that they must be more\nthan the echo of a dream. The practiced eye and ear of the hunter could\ndiscover nothing unusual in the forest, though every faculty was awake,\nevery nerve strung to its greatest tension. With sadness and loss of hope\nhis attitude relaxed, and with heavy footsteps he turned toward the hills.\n\nAnd yet he could not go away. Something sent him back to the little\nopening in the forest, and when he reached the spot where he had fallen\nin the darkness the night before he bent suddenly and placed his ear to\nthe ground.\n\nWhat caused Nekumonta to leap to his feet with a cry of triumph that\nrang over the hills like the shout of many warriors? What changed in an\ninstant the hopeless, dejected being who bent to the earth, to a creature\nalert, with his hardened sinews standing out upon his body in eagerness\nto expend its stifled strength? Faintly, yet distinctly, he had again\nheard the murmuring voices:\n\n\"Strong and brave chief of the Mohawks, here are the healing waters of\nthe Great Spirit. Take us from our prison and thy loved Shanewis shall\nlive.\"\n\nWith a bound like that of the panther Nekumonta sprang to the hillside,\nand from the trunk of a hardy ash that had been felled by the lightning's\nbolt he tore the toughened branches, bearing them in triumph to the\nvalley. Back he ran like the wind and from the yielding soil dug armfuls\nof sharp-edged stones, which he bore with hurrying steps to the place\nwhere a promise had been opened to him greater than the one of the Happy\nHunting-Grounds. Not a moment did he pause, but the cry of \"Shanewis!\nShanewis! Shanewis!\" was almost constantly on his lips.\n\nThe smiling face of the Great Spirit rose higher in the path it followed\nfor the day, and looked down over the hill tops at the toiling Nekumonta.\nForcing the toughened limbs of the ash tree deep into the ground he\nwrested from their beds the huge bowlders that impeded his progress and\nformed the prison of the healing waters. With the sharp-edged stones\nhe cut the hard earth, and with torn and bleeding hands he hurled the\nrough soil from the excavation. Like a very god incarnate the dauntless\nspirit toiled--never resting, never tiring, never stopping except at long\nintervals, when he bent his ear to the earth. Each time he heard the\nvoices, swelling louder and louder, and repeating over and over again the\npromise that lent him an energy that could have torn the earth asunder\nhad it refused to yield its life-giving treasure for the light of his\nwigwam.\n\nWhen the smiling face of the Great Spirit had reached the middle of its\ntrail and turned once more to the door of his great lodge, the tireless\nNekumonta leaped to the edge of the excavation with renewed shouts of\njoy and triumph, and the woods resounded with the laughter and songs\nproclaiming that the imprisoning barrier had been broken open. The\nsparkling, healing waters heard the welcome voices in the woods, and\nrising from their dark prison filled all the place the toiler had torn\nopen in the earth, and then ran merrily down the valley in the sunlight.\n\nNekumonta bathed his bruised hands and burning face in the grateful\nwaters and then hurried away in the forest. On and on he ran, with a\nstep so light that the dead leaves scarcely felt its touch, and with a\nstrength that laughed the wind to scorn. His path was straight through\nthe forest to the clay banks where his people came in the moon of the\nfalling leaves and made the vessels in which they cooked their corn\nand venison. Here his energy was born anew, and with a skill that was\nmarvelous in its dexterity he fashioned a jar to contain the healing\nwaters. From its hiding place he brought the fire stone, and the store\nof branches collected by the old men and children at the last moon of\nfalling leaves furnished him a supply of fuel. When the smiling face of\nthe Great Spirit entered the door of his wigwam in the west Nekumonta\ntook from the dying embers the perfected result of his handiwork.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe warm winds, laden with hope and comfort, stole gently through the\nforest and sang with gladness of the death of winter. Life came once more\nto the swaying branches of the trees, and the first notes of the robins\nand blue birds thrilled the listening air with a sweetness for which it\nhad long hungered. The second day of spring had dawned on the home of\nthe Mohawks the village where the gaunt figure of the awful plague had\nreveled in a dance of death throughout the weary moons of winter.\n\nSuddenly a triumphant shout filled the air. The hearts of weary watchers\nstood still with suspense, fearing that the evil witches had once more\nreturned to taunt them of their helplessness. The plague-stricken woke\nfrom their fitful sleep and called piteously to the Manito. Once more the\nshout arose--louder, clearer, more triumphant--a pealing cry of victory\nfrom the strong and brave Nekumonta.\n\nBearing aloft in his arms the vessel containing the healing waters,\nNekumonta burst from the deeper gray of the forest like a flood of\nsunshine and ran with steps as light as the warm winds themselves to the\ndarkened lodge of his loved Shanewis. With the soft mosses he had caught\nfrom the banks of the streams he soothed her fevered form, and with\ndraughts of the grateful healing waters she was lured to returning health.\n\nThus the loved Shanewis came back from the very borderland of the Happy\nHunting-Grounds to her home with the Mohawks.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SACRIFICE OF ALIQUIPISO\n\n\nTROUBLE came to a village of the Oneidas. From the north a band of red\nmen who had listened to the bad spirits came upon the peaceful village,\nand, with murder and plunder in their hearts, spread destruction around\nthem like the wild chase of the forest fires. The homes of the Oneidas\nwere deserted and made desolate, and the women and children were hurried\naway to the rocks and hills for refuge and were guarded by the warriors.\nFor many days and nights the attacking party vainly tried to find the\ntrail of the people they had driven from their homes. The Great Spirit\nhad passed his hands over the forest and the trail of the Oneidas was not\ndiscovered by the savage Mingoes.\n\nBut the Oneidas were almost without food, and over the tops of the trees\nand along the face of the almost inaccessible cliff came hunger and death\nto their hiding place. The warriors and sachems sat long at the council,\nbut their eyes were heavy and they could find no path that would lead\nthem from their trouble. To try to escape from their refuge would expose\nthem to capture and slavery at the hands of their foes. To remain where\nthey were meant starvation and death.\n\nThen the little maiden, Aliquipiso, came to the warriors and sachems and\ntold how the good spirits had come to her sleeping under the trees, and\nhad shown her where from the side of the high bluff on which her people\nwere hiding huge rocks could be rolled into the valley below in such a\nmanner as to strike down the very trees there. The good spirits also told\nher to lead the foes of the Oneidas to the spot and bade her go upon the\nmission that she might deliver her people from their danger. The warriors\nand sachems listened to the unfolding of the plan with wonder, and when\nAliquipiso had finished, the chief brought forth rich strings of white\nwampum and put them about her neck, saying that she was the princess\nof all the nation and beloved of the Great Spirit. When the night came\nthe little maiden left her people quietly and without faltering, and\ndisappeared in the darkness.\n\nIn the morning watchful scouts of the Mingoes found a little girl\nwandering as if lost in the forest. They hurried away with her to the\ndismantled village where she had been so happy with her fellows and at\nonce commenced to torture her, hoping to extort the secret of the hiding\nplace of her people. With a fortitude that won the admiration of her\ncaptors, Aliquipiso resisted the torture for a long time, but finally\ntold the cruel tormentors that when the darkness came she would lead them\nto the hiding place of the Oneidas.\n\nNight came again, and the exultant Mingoes started on the trail they\nbelieved would lead them to the camp of the Oneidas. Aliquipiso led the\nway, but she was in the grasp of strong warriors who were ready with\npoised weapons to take her life at the first evidence of a betrayal.\nThrough many paths and windings, slowly and craftily, crept the Mingoes\nuntil they were near the overhanging precipice of granite. Then\nAliquipiso signaled to the warriors to come close around her, as though\nshe were about to roll back the huge mountain wall and disclose to them\nthose whom they pursued. When they had crowded to her side she suddenly\nlifted her voice in a piercing cry of warning--a signal of death. She\nknew that above them the sleepless sentries of the starving Oneidas were\nholding great bowlders poised upon the brink of the precipice.\n\nHer captors had scarcely time to strike her lifeless to the ground before\nthe rocks rushed with terrible force down the side of the mountain,\ncatching and crushing the entrapped warriors like worms under the foot of\na mighty giant.\n\nAliquipiso, brave maiden of the Oneidas, was mourned by her people many\nsuns. The Great Spirit changed her hair into woodbine, which the red men\ncalled \"running hairs,\" and sent it over the earth as a protector to\nold trees. From her body sprang the honeysuckle, which was known to the\nIndians as \"the blood of brave women.\"\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE ANIMALS DO NOT TALK\n\n\nIT was long ago, so long that the books of the white men cannot tell\nthe time, that all the animals in the forest could talk with the red\nmen. There was a time when the animals came to the great council-fires\nand lent to the Indians the knowledge they possessed of the woods and\nstreams. The wise beaver taught the Indian women and children where\nto snare the pike and salmon, and how to build houses that would keep\nout the rain and frosts. The bear and the wolf led the braves out on\nthe plains and through the forests and imparted to them their skill in\nfollowing the trail. The dog, by patient example, gave to the red men the\ntact and power to watch for many suns without weariness. From the raccoon\nthe red men learned to mount the trunks of the largest trees. The horse\nconsorted with the Indians on the plains and showed them the secret of\nswift running. The panther taught them how to conceal themselves in the\nthicket, on the branches of an overhanging tree or behind the ledge of\nrocks, and to rush forth upon their enemies like the sudden burst of the\nwhirlwind.\n\nThus from every beast of the forest the red men took lessons in the\ncraft of the woods and plains, and when they had finished all the other\nlessons, the fox led them far away into the forest and taught them the\ncunning necessary to make use of each. In this way they lived while the\nsummer and the winter came many times, and they were happy.\n\nBut there came a time when the animals saw that the red man was their\nmaster. He had the wisdom of the beaver, the keen scent of the bear\nand the wolf, the patience and fidelity of the dog, the agility of the\nraccoon, the speed and endurance of the horse, the spring of the panther\nand the cunning of the fox.\n\nOften the beaver would be surprised to find that the Indian boys and\nwomen had not been content with fishing in the places he had pointed out\nto them, but had wandered away to streams which he had hoped to keep for\nhimself. Furthermore, they were looking with envious eyes upon his warm\ncoat of fur, and he feared that they might want it for a covering. Their\nhouses were built with even more skill than his own, and as they had\nlearned to fashion boats out of the trees he had felled for them and had\nmade for their use paddles shaped like his tail, they could dart across\nthe lake or along the river faster than he could ever hope to. And the\nbeaver was saddened because he had taught the Indians wisdom.\n\nThe bear and the wolf, wandering in the woods, often saw the Indians\nfollowing the trail far into the forest. At the same time the Indians\nso cunningly disguised their own trail that the wolf howled with anger\nwhen he tried to follow the red men, and the bear grew surly and retired\nto his den in the rocks. With the keen scent the bear had trained, the\nIndians sought out the trees where the bees stored their honey, and thus\nhe was robbed of much of the food he loved best. The wolf heard a young\nbrave promise a maiden that if she would live in his wigwam she should\nrest on a couch made of wolf skins and be covered with the warm fur of\nthe bear. So the wolf and the bear took their little ones into dark caves\nand kept away from the homes of the red men.\n\nThe dog, too, found that he no longer held first honors for faithfulness\nat the watch. But he was not angered at the knowledge that his brother\ncould rival him, but lay with him many nights on guard in the wilderness,\nvying with him in vigilance. When their long vigils were ended the dog\nand the Indian would play together and make merry with each other over\nthe result of their friendly contest.\n\nThe panther was jealous and raged through the forests with fury.\nSometimes, to his surprise and wrath, when he had taken every precaution\nto conceal himself from his brother, the red man, the branches of the\nyoung trees would part as silently as if swayed by the breath of summer,\nand between them would appear his red brother, laughing at him for hiding\nhimself so ill.\n\nWhen the raccoon reached the highest point to which he dared climb,\nthe Indian boys would follow him with shouts of laughter, and go still\nfurther toward the ends of the swaying and bending branches, hanging\nfrom them in such a dangerous and reckless manner that it made the old\nraccoon's head turn dizzy, and he went away to the hills by himself.\n\nThe Indians learned their lessons so thoroughly of the horse and\npracticed them with so much patience that finally that animal found he\ncould no longer play when they had races on the plains. But he enjoyed\nthe contests with his red brothers, and when they returned to the village\nhe would follow and the Indian maidens would mount his back and ride\nproudly to the council-fire.\n\nThe fox was greatly chagrined to find that his cunning and tricks were\nmatched on the part of his red brothers with others equally shrewd. No\nmatter how carefully he concealed his trail--though he walked in the beds\nof the streams or circled the mountains till he had almost lost his own\npathway--the Indians would track him through all his windings. When he\ntried to lead them astray by subtle tales they laughed at his deceptions\nand put him to shame before his friends and neighbors.\n\nSo it came to pass that the Indians possessed the knowledge of all the\nanimals. They could follow the trail with the scent of the bear or the\nwolf; build more wisely than the beaver; climb more daringly than the\nraccoon; watch more faithfully than the dog; crouch more closely and\nspring more surely than the panther; race the plains as swiftly as the\nhorse, and outwit the cunning of the fox.\n\nThen the animals held a council, but the fire was not lighted in its\naccustomed place and the red men were in heavy slumbers while their\nbrothers of the forest talked.\n\nThe jealous wolf opened the discussion and declared that when he had\ncarefully looked on all sides of the existing state of affairs he saw\nbut one course for the animals to pursue. They ought to rush in upon the\nvillages and kill all the Indians and their women and papooses.\n\nThe bear was more noble, and said that he thought this proposition was\nunfair. He declared, however, that the animals could not stand still any\nlonger and look without fear upon the dangers which confronted them. It\nwas their duty to challenge the Indians to an open war.\n\nThe beaver argued that the better way would be to wait till the chilling\nblasts should come and then in the night tear away the houses the Indians\nhad built to protect themselves and their little ones from the cold.\nThe storms of winter, the beaver said, would very soon put these smart\nfellows in a condition that would make them anxious enough to come to\nsome terms advantageous to the animals.\n\nThe horse said it would not be right to cause the Indians pain or death.\nThe Indians were not bad neighbors, though perhaps a trifle too apt and\nsmart for the rest of them. For a great many years, said the horse, his\nancestors and the red men had been on the best of terms--not so much as\na ripple of trouble having disturbed their relations. He could not for a\nmoment think of entering into any plan whereby he would be called upon\nto help take his brother's life or cause him pain. He had heard that\naway over beyond the great mountains there was a pleasant country--not\nas pleasant and fertile as the one in which they now lived, but a fairly\ngood place to live in. He would therefore propose that the animals invite\nthe Indians to go there on a great harvest expedition, and when once the\nred men were safely over the mountains the animals could steal away in\nthe night and return to their loved homes. The panther scoffed at the\nhorse for advancing what he was pleased to call a silly and senseless\nplan. The beaver, too, the panther said, was much too leniently inclined.\nThe Indians were to be feared, and if the animals were to retain any of\ntheir freedom and independence they must follow the advice of the wolf.\nOnly total extermination of the Indian race could be depended upon to\nwarrant them from further molestation from the red men. What good would\nit do, forsooth, to lure the red men over the mountains and then run away\nfrom them? Did the horse think the Indians sick nurslings or women to lie\ndown on the big plains over the mountains and make no effort to return\nto their loved streams, lakes and forests? Why, the Indians would come\nback as quickly as could the horse himself, and then the very ground\nwould be made red with the blood of those who had decoyed them away from\nhomes that had for generations been held in such high reverence by the\nIndians. He advocated an immediate advance upon the villages and would\ngive quarter to none.\n\nAll eyes were turned toward the raccoon as he rose to speak, for his\nwas a very old family and had long been held in high respect by all\nthe inhabitants of the forest. He said he could not exactly side with\nthe panther, for the Indians had never done him any great harm. He was\nconvinced, however, that the country ought to be rid of them, for they\nwere becoming altogether too well skilled in the craft of the woods. Too\nmuch power in the hands of one individual, said the raccoon, was apt to\nmake it unpleasant for those with whom he lived. He favored the plan\nadvanced by the beaver. They could lay their plans carefully, and in this\nmanner bring about a treaty that would keep the Indians within proper\nbounds.\n\nThe fox felt sure that the better plan would be for the animals to put\nthemselves under his training. He would teach them how to cheat and steal\nwhile pretending friendship. They could then easily strip the red men's\nfields of the corn that had been planted for the winter. They could take\nfrom their moorings on the river banks the boats and fishing nets of bark\nand float them far away down the stream where they would be lost in the\nrapids. In this manner they could soon have the Indians at their mercy\nand bring about a treaty on the plan proposed by the beaver and seconded\nby the raccoon. The plan, he continued, offered no danger to them, as did\nthe contests proposed by the panther and the wolf; and he thought that\nmature deliberation would convince all that it was the best one to adopt.\n\nThe dog said that not until the present time had he ever realized what\nit was to be a beast. He felt ashamed to think he had been weak enough\nto be prevailed upon to attend a council to which their red brothers\nwere not bidden. It was contrary to the custom that had existed since\nthe Great Spirit first sent them to this fair and beautiful country.\nHe expected that they would all be punished for such treachery, and\nindeed they ought to be. The Indians had as yet treated them only with\nkindness and respect. Many times in winter, when the snows lay so deep\non the ground that no food could be found the Indians had opened their\nhomes to the animals who had not made suitable provision for food, and\nhad fed them and kept them from perishing with hunger. There had never\nbeen a time, said the dog, as he looked around the circle of listeners\nand waited for a denial of his assertion, when any Indian had refused\nshelter, food or aid to a needy, sick or suffering animal. To be sure\nthe Indians had acquired all the knowledge that the animals possessed,\nbut their doing this had in no manner impoverished the animals. As they\nhad lost nothing by this, he saw no reason why they should be jealous\nand fault-finding about it. Would it not be far wiser for the animals to\nprofit by the example set by the Indians and teach each other the various\ntraits and characteristics each possessed than to be consumed by jealousy\nand revenge, and in the heat of passion break a peace that had existed\nfor so many years? He could not, and would not be a party to any of the\nplans proposed, and if the other animals persisted in following out any\nof those cruel and treacherous schemes he should consider it his duty to\nleave the council and go to the village to warn his sleeping brothers of\ntheir danger. More than that, he would fight on the side of the red men\nif it became necessary, and help them defend their lives and homes from\nthe attack of any force that might be brought against them.\n\nWhen the dog had ceased speaking the wolf and the panther were in\na terrible rage. They accused the dog of cowardice, bad faith,\nbribe-taking, desertion and treachery. They said he had been made foolish\nand silly by the praise that had been lavished upon him by the Indian\nmaidens. They reviled him and stuck out their tongues at him for being\nlovesick after the Indian women. They said he had turned nurse for the\npapooses and hereafter would better stay in the villages of his new-found\nfriends and lie in the sun with the old men. They dared him to go to the\nvillage and expose the proceedings of the council, saying that if he\nattempted it they would set upon and kill him. \"For a poor and meagre\ncrust of maize-cake, too hard for the teeth of the red men to crush,\"\nsaid the panther; \"you have been bought, and you give up all claim to the\nrights that have been held sacred by the dogs of all times. We should\nthink that the memory of your forefathers and the long line of noble dogs\nwho have lived before you came on earth to disgrace them would stir you\nto action for the honor of your race.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the wolf; \"he can remember nothing but the soft caresses of\nthe Indian girls upon his head. I saw him the other day lying at the feet\nof Garewiis, the daughter of the chief Teganagen, and when he raised his\neyes and looked at her she took his head in her arms and laid her cheek\nagainst him, all the time stroking his back and singing to him as she\nwill sing to her papooses when they come to her wigwam. Not only has he\nsold himself to be the friend of the Indians and sit quietly by while we\nare enslaved, but he is lovesick and his head is turned.\"\n\nThis warm and intemperate language caused much confusion and something of\na sensation, though the dog remained calm and dignified. He showed by no\noutward sign that the uncivil and untruthful charges of the panther and\nthe wolf had even been heard, much less heeded.\n\nThe horse instantly sprang into the open place before the fire and hurled\nat the two false accusers his most powerful eloquence. \"I come as a\nchampion of my friend, the dog,\" he said. \"You have insulted and maligned\nhim in a manner that calls for the condemnation of all honorable beasts.\nHe is my brother. Because there is some difference in our tastes and I\nam his superior in size, it makes him none the less my brother. I love\nhim, for he is gentle, affectionate, trustworthy, noble and brave. You,\nthe panther, and you, the wolf, boast of your bravery; yet which of you\ndared rush into the burning forests as did my brother, the dog, and lead\nthe blind doe to a place of safety? Which of you dared plunge into the\nriver, made deep and dangerous by the melting snows as winter died and\nthe warm winds came to bury--him when the waters boiled and foamed to the\nvery tops of the high banks and spread out over the plains like a great\nlake--and from the midst of that angry flood bring safely to the shore a\nweak and drowning companion who had stumbled and fallen over the bank?\nI have heretofore loved you all, but henceforth I shall be ashamed to\nacknowledge the wolf and panther as my brothers. They seem to think that\nbravery consists in cruel attack and glistening teeth, but I can tell\nthem that it is more surely found in noble deeds. I will follow the dog\nto the homes of the red men, and together we will fight against the cruel\npractices you design to put in force.\"\n\nAs the horse ceased speaking the Great Spirit came suddenly to the\ncouncil-fire and said that the loud voices of the disputants had been\nborne to his ears by the message-bearers and he had listened in sorrow to\nall that had been said. He had therefore left the Happy Hunting-Grounds\nand come to their council. He was grieved that the pleasant relations\nheretofore existing between the Indians and the animals would now have\nto be broken and disturbed. When they had been given life the intention\nwas formed that eventually all would dwell together in the Happy\nHunting-Grounds. Now he would be compelled to alter his plans. He would\nchange the language of his red children so that the beasts could never\ntalk with them again. He would go to his children in the villages and\ntell them all that had been said at this clandestine council in the\nwoods. For all time the wolf and panther should be hunted and killed by\nthe Indians. They should be looked upon and warred against as the most\ndangerous of foes. The bear might be counted as an honorable antagonist,\nand the red men would be ready to fight him in open battle whenever the\nopportunity offered. The red men would not disturb or molest him, but\nif he should come and demand a battle the Indians would not refuse. The\nbeaver and raccoon, on account of the heartless plan they had set forth\nfor the vanquishing of their brethren, should be considered the prey of\nthe Indian and should yield their thick furs to keep his children warm.\nThe fox would be looked upon as a thief. He had proposed to steal the\nfood of the Indians and bring them to want; now he might practice his\ndesire. But the Indians would be warned and would set traps and snares\nfor him. When caught his fur would be used like the fur of the beaver and\nraccoon. The horse and the dog might still retain their understanding\nof speech of I the Indians, but as they had been guilty of breaking an\nancient treaty by attending a council to which all the parties of the\ntreaty had not been bidden, they must receive some punishment, and would\nno longer be permitted to speak the Indian language. But they should\nalways be the champions and friends of the red men; they should live\nin the Indians' homes, be present at the great feasts and festivals,\nshare the products of their hunt, be loved and petted by the maidens\nand papooses, fight with the Indians when they fought and be partakers\nand sharers in the victories or defeats. In a word, they should be the\ncompanions and brothers of the Indians forever, here and in the Happy\nHunting-Grounds.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MESSAGE-BEARERS\n\n\nWHEN the Great Spirit brought the red men from the Happy Hunting-Grounds\nand left them upon the earth, they were filled with fear lest they could\nnever make him hear their wants and could not reach his ears when they\ndesired to tell him of their joys and sorrows. The sachems went before\nhim and said: \"Oh, our Father, how will thy children tell thee of the\ndeeds they have performed that will please thine ear? How will they ask\nthee to their homes to help them drive away the bad spirits; and how\nwill they invite thee to their feasts and dances? Oh, our Father, thou\ncanst not at all times be awake and watching thy children, and they will\nnot know when thou art sleeping. Thy children do not know the trail to\nthe Happy Hunting-Grounds by which to send their wise men and sachems to\ntalk with thee, for thou hast covered it with thy hands and thy children\ncannot discover it. How will the words of thy children reach thee, oh,\nour Father, the Manito; how will what they say come to thine ears?\"\n\nThen the Great Spirit created for each one of the red men a second self,\nto whom he gave a home in the air. He provided these beings with wings\nand swift feet so they could move very rapidly. To them he imparted the\nsecret of the entrance to his home and made them guides to his children\nwhom he had called on the long journey so that they should not lose\nthe paths leading to their future home. Finally, the Great Spirit told\nthese creatures of the air that they should be message-bearers for his\nchildren, and convey their words exactly as spoken from one point to\nanother until they reached the ears of his sachems in the big wigwam by\nthe side of the council-fire that never lost its light. They must be\nready at all times to answer the calls of the red men, so that none of\ntheir words might be lost. Messages to the loved ones who had left the\nearth and gone to the Happy Hunting-Grounds must be transmitted with the\nsame watchful care as were those intended for his ears alone. If any of\nhis children spoke idle and untruthful words they, too, must be repeated\nthat their father might know whether they were worthy to be admitted to\nthe grand council-fire.\n\nWhen he had finished his instructions, the Great Spirit told the sachems\nthat he would return to his home and that they could go with his\nchildren to the bank of a beautiful river near which they dwelt, and\nthere talk to him.\n\nSlowly and with a loud voice, the chief sachem began to speak. From\nthe opposite bank of the river the waiting message-bearer caught up\nthe sachem's words as they were spoken and with a strong voice shouted\nthem to another dweller of the air who crouched in the tree-tops far\ndown the river, ready and alert to do the Great Spirit's bidding. On\nand on, rolling along the ravines and valleys, leaping from hill-top to\nmountain-side, and from mountain-side to lake, striding over the forests\nat a bound--fainter and yet fainter, until lost in the blue distance of\nthe plain--the message of thankfulness and love was borne from the lips\nof the grateful sachem until it reached the ears of the ever listening\nand loving father, and was told to the chiefs who sat in the light of the\ncouncil-fire that never grows dim.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WISE SACHEM'S GIFT\n\n\nA LONG time before the white men came, there lived a wise sachem who\nwas known as the Great Peacemaker. His life was full of winters and his\nmind was stored with the teachings of the wisest sachems that had lived\nbefore him. He could remember the time when all the red men dwelt in\npeace, and before troubles came that drove them to wars and dissensions.\nAll his life was spent in going from one village to another, teaching\nthe doctrine of peace among his people. He told the red men how to help\neach other when the bad spirits came and disturbed them. If the harvest\nwas poor in one village, he taught other villages that they must take\nfood to their brothers; if any were in want, he said that those who had\nplenty must relieve them. He settled differences and difficulties by his\nlogic, quelled wars and disturbances by his wise counsels and eloquence,\nand taught gentleness by his example. Finally, when he had reached an age\nbeyond that of any of the sachems who had lived before him, he called his\npeople together and told them that he must go away on the long journey,\nbut that they need not mourn for him, as he would return in a form that\nwould live forever.\n\nFrom his grave sprang the tobacco plant, and in honor of his memory was\nestablished the custom of smoking the pipe of peace at all peaceful\ncouncils.\n\nWhen the curling smoke ascended around the council-fires the red men saw\nin its fantastic shapes the form and features of the Great Peacemaker.\nThey opened their ears and he told them that agreements made in his\npresence were sacred, and if violated would displease the Great Spirit.\nThey bent their heads and the wise sachem placed his hands upon them as\na token that he would aid his children in all peaceful pursuits. His\npresence was never invoked when there were discussions of wars, for\nhe would frown upon his children and frighten them with his terrible\ncountenance.\n\nMany generations lived and died, and all respected the agreements made\nin the presence of the wise sachem's spirit, for not until years after,\nwhen the red men had been taught the meaning of a broken treaty through\nexperience with the whites did they ever violate a treaty that had been\nratified by \"the pipe of peace.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLYING HEAD\n\n\nTHERE were many evil spirits and terrible monsters that hid in the\nmountain caves when the sun shone, but came out to vex and plague the red\nmen when storms swept the earth or when there was darkness in the forest.\nAmong them was a flying head which, when it rested upon the ground, was\nhigher than the tallest man. It was covered with a thick coating of hair\nthat shielded it from the stroke of arrows. The face was very dark and\nangry, filled with great wrinkles and horrid furrows. Long black wings\ncame out of its sides, and when it rushed through the air mournful sounds\nassailed the ears of the frightened men and women. On its under side\nwere two long, sharp claws, with which it tore its food and attacked its\nvictims.\n\nThe Flying Head came oftenest to frighten the women and children. It came\nat night to the homes of the widows and orphans, and beat its angry wings\nupon the walls of their houses and uttered fearful cries in an unknown\ntongue. Then it went away, and in a few days death followed and took\none of the little family with him. The maiden to whom the Flying Head\nappeared never heard the words of a husband's wooing or the prattle of a\npapoose, for a pestilence came upon her and she soon sickened and died.\n\nOne night a widow sat alone in her cabin. From a little fire burning near\nthe door she frequently drew roasted acorns and ate them for her evening\nmeal. She did not see the Flying Head grinning at her from the doorway,\nfor her eyes were deep in the coals and her thoughts upon the scenes of\nhappiness in which she dwelt before her husband and children had gone\naway to the long home.\n\nThe Flying Head stealthily reached forth one of its long claws and\nsnatched some of the coals of fire and thrust them into its mouth for it\nthought that these were what the woman was eating. With a howl of pain it\nflew away, and the red men were never afterwards troubled by its visits.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASH TREE\n\n\nTHE ash tree, the leaves and bark of which were the universal specific\nfor the poison of the rattlesnake, had its origin in a warrior whose wife\nand two children died from the bite of a rattlesnake that had found its\nway into their wigwam. The brave's grief was so violent that the Great\nSpirit gave him permission to turn into a tree, the branches of which\nwould make bows and arrows with which his people could kill their deadly\nenemies; the green leaves placed in a circle around the sleeping warriors\nwould form a barrier through which the reptiles would not crawl; the\nbruised leaves would act as a poultice to draw the venom from the wound,\nand from the bark could be brewed a draught that would drive the delirium\nfrom the body of the suffering victim.\n\nA form of words was pronounced as the Indians approached the ash tree to\ndraw on its resources for any of the purposes named. They would say: \"Oh,\nmy brother, the mighty friend of the Indian, your red brother comes to\nyou for help. He has met the forked-tongue whose bite is like the sting\nof bad arrows. He knows not where to turn except to his noble brother,\nwhose goodness is known to all the Indians. Help me, my brother, for the\nsting of the forked-tongue is deep and the eyes of your brother close in\nsleep if you do not help him. I wound you, my brother, but my fathers\nhave told me of your goodness and of your hatred of the forked-tongue.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE HUNTER\n\n\nKANISTAGIA, the hunter, was loved by all the animals with gentle natures.\nHe never pursued them in wantonness, and he took the life of none except\nin case of stern necessity. To the wild, fierce monsters that inhabited\nthe forests and preyed upon the weak and timid ones, Kanistagia was a\nconstant foe, and so swift was the flight of his arrow, so powerful the\nblow of his hunting club, so unerring his knowledge of their haunts in\nthe mountains, that they feared him deeply and hid away with low and\nsullen mutterings when they heard his ringing shout upon the chase.\n\nThese were the panther, the wolf, the wildcat, and other strange and\nvicious animals at war with the red men.\n\nBut it was not so with the bear, the beaver, the raccoon, the elk, the\nred deer, the moose, the fox, the squirrel and the dog. They were the\nfriends of Kanistagia, and when he walked abroad his path was made bright\nby their greetings, and he often sat a long time in their company and\ntalked with them of curious things found in their haunts. He treated\nthem as friends and neighbors, and when any were sick or wounded he gave\nthem advice about the medicine they should use that they might recover.\n\nOnce when the corn was tasseled there came fierce and warlike men from\nthe north, and Kanistagia and his brothers went forth to defend their\nhomes. The Great Spirit gave their arms strength and the fierce men were\ndriven away. But before they went Kanistagia was struck upon the head by\nthe war club of one of the northern men, and when the hunter fell to the\nground his victor cut the scalp-lock from his head and bore it away in\ntriumph.\n\nThe hunters and warriors did not see Kanistagia fall and mourned him as\none who had been taken a prisoner by the fierce men they had fought.\nThey knew he would meet death bravely and go on his way to the Happy\nHunting-Grounds with smiles on his lips, and that the wrinkles of a\ncoward would find no place on his face. But his fall did not escape\nthe keen eyes of the fox, who ran to him when the fighting men had\ndisappeared.\n\n\"Alas! my benefactor and brother,\" lamented the fox, \"the heavy sleep has\nclosed thine eyes forever. Thy kindly life has been rudely torn from thy\nbody before the death-song could warn thy brethren of thy coming. Woe and\nsorrow will be many days with thy brothers in the forest if, perchance,\nnone of them know the medicine that shall bring thee from thy sleep.\"\n\nThen the fox ran to the top of a high hill and began to sing his death\nlament, that all might know that trouble had come upon him. Through the\nforest echoed the mournful sounds, and they were caught up and repeated\nby the listening beasts on hill and in valley until all had heard the\ntidings and gathered at the place where the body of Kanistagia, their\nbrother, lay. When they had mourned over his fate the bear called the\ncouncil to silence.\n\nSaid the bear: \"My brothers, we mourn for a protector with whom we have\nspent many pleasant seasons. By his wisdom and counsel we have been\ntaught many things that were good for us to know. It is our duty now, if\nany know a powerful charm that will awaken him, to produce it that we may\nonce more be gladdened by our brother's smiles.\"\n\nThen each one ran to and fro in the forest, bringing many curious\nsubstances to the side of the hunter, but none was of avail. The bear\nand the fox, with plaintive whines, stretched themselves by his side\nand gently licked the wounds of their brother, but their efforts\nbrought forth no sign of life. At last they were forced to believe that\nKanistagia must surely be lifeless, and a great cry of mourning arose\nfrom the hundreds of animals present. This attracted the attention of the\nlong nest (oriole) and he flew to ask its meaning. He was informed by the\ndeer, upon whose horns he alighted, and after asking permission from the\nbear to invite the birds to the mournful gathering, flew rapidly away on\nhis errand. Soon all the birds in the forest had been told and the sky\nwas darkened by their flight to the scene of Kanistagia's death--so wide\nwas the fame of the hunter that all knew him. Among them was the great\neagle of the Iroquois, which seldom approached nearer the earth than the\ntops of the highest mountains. Slowly he floated over the assembled birds\nand animals and finally stilled his mighty wings and stood beside the\nhunter. Then he spoke:\n\n\"Kanistagia will wake from his heavy sleep if the sharp eyes of his\nfriends will discover his scalp-lock and their swift feet or tireless\nwings will bear it to this place before the moon is round.\"\n\nForth upon their search ran the animals, the bear and elk alone remaining\nbeside their brother to guard his body from foes. Long and earnestly\nthey sought the trail of the warrior who had slain their friend, but so\ncarefully had he concealed his path that none could follow it. The beaver\nsought traces of his footsteps in the beds of streams; the dog and the\nfox thrust their noses under the leaves and deeply drew in their breaths,\nhoping to find the scent of the murderer's footsteps; the raccoon climbed\nto the tops of the highest trees and looked in every direction; the red\ndeer ran in great circles, hoping to come suddenly upon the fugitive; the\nsquirrels, and even gentle rabbits, scampered in all directions, looking\nin vain for traces of the slayer of Kanistagia. But at last all returned,\nand with heavy hearts told the council that they knew not where to look.\n\nThe great eagle of the Iroquois bade the pigeon-hawk make the first\nflight for the birds, as he was swift of wing. Scarcely had he gone when\nhe returned again, but brought no tidings. The birds murmured that his\nflight had been so swift that he had not looked carefully, and the eagle\nsent forth the white heron. But the heron was so slow of wing that the\npatience of all was exhausted, and soon some small birds came to the\ncouncil with the news that he had discovered a plain on which wild beans\ngrew in abundance and was now so overladen with feeding on them that he\ncould not rise and fly. Then the crow came forward and said that if he\nwere sent he would pledge himself to discover the hiding place of the\nmurderer. So the crow was sent and at once flew to a village where he\nhad many times been to watch for food. He sailed slowly over the wigwams\nat a great height and finally his keen eyes spied the coveted treasure.\nWatching his chance, the crow dashed down and caught the scalp-lock from\nthe pole upon which it hung, and rapidly winged his way back to the\ncouncil.\n\nBut when they attempted to place the scalp-lock upon their brother's head\nthey found that the piece had been dried and would not fit, and they\nsearched long and faithfully for something that would make it pliable.\nBut their search was in vain, and in despair they turned again to the\ngreat eagle, who heard their plight and bade them listen to his words:\n\n\"The wings of the eagle are never furled. For many thousand moons the\ndews of heaven have fallen on my back as I rose to great heights above\nthe storm and watched my mate on her nest above the clouds. These waters\nmay have a virtue no earthly fountain can possess.\"\n\nThen the eagle plucked a feather from his breast and dipped it in the\nglistening cup of dew that had fallen on his back, and when this was\napplied to the scalp-lock it at once became as when first removed.\n\nAgain the animals ran into the forest, and from every hidden place, from\nevery deep ravine, from tops of hills and mountains, from knoll and from\nmorass, brought leaves and blossoms and roots from the rarest plants and\ntrees. The birds sought the cliffs and precipices where foot could not\nrest and added to the collection many curious and rare specimens. With\nthese they made a healing medicine, and when they had placed it upon the\nhunter's head, his eyes were opened and he lived.\n\nThen, indeed, there was rejoicing. The birds beat their wings and sang\nloud choruses, while the animals ran about in wild delight because their\nbrother had been awakened from his heavy slumber. As the eagle of the\nIroquois soared again to his home on the mountain-top, the round moon,\nwhose coming all had so dreaded, rose over the waving branches of the\nforest and lent its cheerful light to the happy gathering.\n\n\n\n\nHIAWATHA\n\n\nLISTEN, my children, while the fire burns red and the shadows come and go\nlike mighty giants, and I will tell you the story of Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon,\nthe holder of the heavens, who afterwards became a mortal and was called\nHiawatha, the wise man.\n\nThere came to his ears one day a great cry of distress, and when he\nlooked from the entrance of the Happy Hunting-Grounds he saw a few men\nand women in the forest moaning with terror, for all their friends had\nbeen slain by mighty giants and fierce monsters. So he went quickly\nto their aid, and taking a little maiden by the hand, bade all follow\nwhither she led. By paths known only to Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon, he conducted\nthem to a cave near the mouth of a river,[1] and there he brought them\nfood and bade them sleep.\n\n[1] Oswego River.\n\nWhen they had remained there many days Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon again took the\nmaiden by the hand and led her toward the rising sun, and the few people\nwho had been saved by his mercy followed gladly in the trail he pointed\nout. At last they came where the great river[2] they had followed poured\nover some mighty rocks to the level of another river,[3] and here he told\nthem to build a house in which they might dwell in peace. Many moons they\nremained there in happiness, and the little children who came to them\ngrew to be strong men and handsome women. Then came Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon and\nsaid to them:\n\n[2] Mohawk River.\n\n[3] Hudson River.\n\n\"You, my children, must now go forth and become mighty nations; and I\nwill teach you the mysteries of the forests and make your numbers like\nthe leaves that cover the trees when the warm days have come.\"\n\nThen they followed him toward the setting-sun, and when they had gone\nsome distance he told off certain numbers and families that should make\ntheir homes and build a village in that place. These he gave corn, beans,\nsquash, potatoes and tobacco, and also dogs with which to hunt game, and\nnamed them Te-ha-wro-gah.[4] From that time they could not understand\ntheir brothers, and they dwelt henceforward on the banks of the beautiful\nriver.\n\n[4] Divided speech; the Mohawks.\n\nThen went he with the others towards the sun-setting till at last they\nhalted in a broad valley where were beautiful streams. And he bade\nsome of his followers remain there, and gave the same good gifts he\nhad given their brothers and told them that they should be called\nNe-ha-wre-ta-go,[5] for the trees of the forest were of great size where\nhe bade them dwell, and in a short time these had also learned to speak a\nnew tongue.\n\n[5] The Oneidas.\n\nThen Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon led the rest of his people onward toward\nthe sun-setting till they came to a mountain which he called\nO-nun-da-ga-o-no-ga.[6] There he again commanded some of his people\nto remain, and he gave into their possession the same gifts he\nhad confided to the care of his other children, and called them\nSe-uh-no-wah-ah-tah.[7] To these he gave his own language.\n\n[6] Onondaga; on the hills.\n\n[7] Carrying the name; the Onondagas.\n\nMany days journey toward the sunset, near the shores of a lake named\nGo-yo-gah,[8] he selected a dwelling-place for others of his children and\nbade them build a village and left them provided with all good things.\nThese he called Sho-nea-na-we-to-wah;[9] and their language was also\nchanged.\n\n[8] Mountain rising from the water; the Cayugas.\n\n[9] People of the great pipe.\n\nThen with those who remained Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon continued toward the sunset\nuntil they came to a mountain near the lake called Ga-nun-da-gwa,[10]\nand here he told them they should dwell. And he gave to them the name\nTe-ho-ne-noy-hent,[11] and changed their language as he had done that of\ntheir brothers and bestowed upon them the same gifts for their food.\n\n[10] Canandaigua; the place chosen for settlement.\n\n[11] Possessing the door; the Senecas.\n\nBut there were some who were not content to stay where the holder of the\nheavens had bidden them to live and who ran away toward the setting-sun\nmany days until they came to a great river which they crossed on a wild\ngrape vine. But when the last ones were crossing, the vine broke and none\ncould ever return.[12]\n\n[12] This refers to the Indians beyond the Mississippi.\n\nThen the holder of the heavens gave his time to the instruction of his\nchildren, and to each family he imparted some distinctive skill. To the\nSenecas he gave the power of swift feet, and they could soon outrun\nany animal in the forest. The Cayugas became skilled in the use of the\ncanoe, and glided over the waters more rapidly than the skimming birds or\ndarting fish. The Onondagas were instructed in all the laws and wishes\nof the Great Spirit and had power to speak his mind. The Oneidas became\nskilful in ways of making weapons, of the building of houses and the\nweaving of baskets. The Mohawks were taught to shoot their arrows with\nsurer aim than all the others, and could snare the fish from the streams\nwith wondrous skill.\n\nYou, my children, must know that Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon, the holder of the\nheavens, had power to assume any shape, and that he could fly from one\nplace to another, far distant, more rapidly than the great eagle. He\ntaught his people the knowledge of hunting and gardening; he fashioned\narrow-heads from the flint and guided the hands of his children until\nthey, too, could make them; he gave instruction in the arts of war,\nthat they might defend themselves; he cleared their streams from\nobstructions and pointed out the water path[13] from the sun-rising to\nthe sun-setting. He taught them the form of poisonous fruits and plants,\ngiving them to eat of those that were wholesome; he taught them how to\nkill and dress their game; made the forest free for the tribes to hunt\nin, and gave them laws and precepts to guide them in the treatment of\nboth the young and the old.\n\n[13] The \"water path\" was up the Mohawk River to Rome, over a short\nportage to Wood Creek, thence to Oneida Lake, down the Oswegp River to\nSeneca River, and thence westward over the chain of lakes in the interior\nof the State of New York. If the journey was to be to the far west, the\nOswego River was taken to Lake Ontario and thence through the chain of\ngreat lakes.\n\nThen Ta-ren-ya-wa-gon determined to reside with his children, and\nhe assumed the form of a man and chose as a wife a maiden from the\nOnondagas. When he had done this he was named Hiawatha. His home was\non the shores of a beautiful lake,[14] and to it came many of the red\nmen and their wives and children, that they might learn from the wise\nHiawatha how their lives should be guided. To his wigwam came also a\ndaughter, whose beauty was as the flowers, glistening with the dews of\nnight and kissed by the light of the Great Spirit's smiling face. The\nname of the daughter was Minnehaha.\n\n[14] Cross Lake, Cayuga County, New York. A very romantic and beautiful\npoint on the southern shores of this little body of water is pointed out\nby the Indians as the site of Hiawatha's home.\n\nMany seasons passed. Under the teachings of Hiawatha the Onondagas became\nthe greatest of all nations. The wise man came in his magic canoe of\ndazzling whiteness and sat at all their councils, and by his wisdom and\nmoderation the tribe was preserved from strife and became foremost in the\narts and knowledge of the forest.\n\nBut at last there came an alarm from the north beyond the great lakes,\nand the story was told with fear at the lodge-fires of a relentless\nenemy who came to kill and burn. In terror the chiefs told their fears\nto Hiawatha and he advised them to call a council of all the tribes at a\nplace on the borders of a lake where he had once told them to light a\ngreat council-fire, that they might make preparations to meet their foes.\nSwift runners went to the villages of all the tribes and the chiefs,\nand warriors assembled at the appointed place. Three days they awaited\nthe coming of Hiawatha, and on the morning of the fourth a mighty shout\narose as they saw his mystic canoe gliding over the waters of the lake.\nIn its prow sat the beautiful Minnehaha, while the wise man, her father,\noccupied a seat at the stern of the boat and with a light paddle directed\nthe course of the mysterious craft. He was met at the edge of the water\nby the foremost men of the tribes, and greeting them as brothers, each in\ntheir own language, he stepped from the canoe and walked a short distance\nalong the shore. Suddenly a rushing noise was heard, as of the coming of\nan awful storm, and as all eyes turned upwards a great bird was observed\ncoming out of the heavens with the speed of an arrow. Hiawatha and his\ndaughter alone stood unmoved and tranquil. The others fled in terror.\nThe celestial visitor alighted at the feet of Hiawatha. Impelled by some\nunseen power, Minnehaha knelt at her father's feet. He placed his hands\non her head for a moment and then she slowly rose, cast one look into his\nface, murmured gently, \"Farewell, my father!\" and took her place between\nthe wings of the Great Spirit's messenger. Instantly the giant bird\nstretched its wings for flight over the glistening waters of the lake,\nand circling over the heads of the appalled multitude, swiftly bore its\nburden of loveliness to the home of the Manito.\n\nHiawatha sank to the earth and covered his head with the robe of a\npanther. Three times did the smiling face of the Great Spirit pass across\nthe heavens before the wise man moved or uttered a sound, and his red\nbrothers feared he had gone on the long journey and could not again give\nthem counsel. Finally he rose from his mourning, bathed himself in the\nlake and asked that the council be called. When all were seated in the\nplace appointed, Hiawatha came before them and said:\n\n\"My children, listen to the words of Hiawatha, for they are the last he\nwill speak to you. My heart beats with yours, my children, but I cannot\nlonger remain to make known to you the will of the Great Spirit.\n\n\"My children, the voice of strife has brought you from the homes where\nyou have so long dwelt in peace. You tremble for the safety of your wives\nand little ones; you fear that your happy life will be disturbed. You,\nthe members of many tribes and villages, have one common fear, and you\nshould therefore have one common interest. Singly, no tribe can oppose\nthe hordes of the north that threaten to come like the storms of winter,\nblasting and killing all in their path. Divided you can make no progress.\nYou must unite as one common band of brothers. You must have one voice,\nfor many tongues make confusion. You must have one fire, one pipe, one\nwar club. If your warriors unite they can defeat any enemy and protect\nthe safety of their homes.\n\n\"My children, listen, and Hiawatha will tell the wampum of the Great\nSpirit.\"\n\nHe made a signal and the fire-keepers advanced to the center of the\ncouncil-place and united the council-fires in one.[15] Then Hiawatha\nthrew tobacco upon this and said:\n\n[15] See note on this legend.\n\n\"Onondaga, you are the people of the hills and are warlike and mighty.\nYour strength is like that of the great tree whose branches withstand the\nstorm because its roots sink deep into the ground. You shall be the first\nnation.\n\n\"Oneida, you are the people who recline your bodies against the\neverlasting stone that cannot be moved.[16] You shall be the second\nnation because you give wise counsel.\n\n[16] Evidently an allusion to Trenton Falls chasm, located within the\nOneidas' Country.\n\n\"Seneca, you are the people who have habitation at the foot of the great\nmountain and dwell within the shadows of its crags. You shall be the\nthird nation because you are fleet of foot and are greatly gifted in\nspeech.\n\n\"Cayuga, you whose dwelling is in the dark forest and whose home is\neverywhere because of the swiftness of your canoes, you shall be the\nfourth nation because of your superior cunning in hunting.\n\n\"Mohawk, you are the people who live in the open country and possess much\nwisdom. You shall be the fifth nation because you understand best the\ncultivation of corn and beans and the building of cabins.\n\n\"Like the fingers on the hand of the warrior, each must lend aid to the\nother and work in unison. Then foes shall not disturb or subdue you.\n\n\"My children, these are the words of the Great Spirit spoken to you by\nHiawatha. Let them sink deep into your hearts and be remembered. When the\nsun comes again I will listen to your decision. I have done.\"\n\nOn the following day the council again assembled and the wise men agreed\nthat Hiawatha had spoken well and that they would follow his teachings.\nThey asked him to be their chief sachem, but he told them he could not as\nhe was going away. Then Hiawatha approached the spot where the celestial\nbird had rested and gathered a quantity of white plumes that had fallen\nfrom its wings. These he gave to the warriors as emblems that they should\nwear and by which they should be known as members of the Ako-no-shu-ne,\nwho were called the Iroquois.[17] Then Hiawatha said to them:\n\n[17] Succeeding generations wore feathers from the white heron,\napproaching as nearly as possible the plumage of the celestial bird.\n\n\"To you, Oh! my children, remember well the words of Hiawatha. To you,\nOh! my friends and brothers, be faithful in aiding each other when danger\nmay come. Recall the words of the Great Spirit which have been given to\nyou for many moons. Do not admit to your councils the people of other\ntribes, for they will plant among you the seeds of jealousy and trouble\nand you will become feeble and enslaved.\n\n\"Friends and brothers, these are the last words you will hear from the\nlips of Hiawatha. Choose the wisest maiden[18] in your tribes, who shall\nbe your peacemaker, and to your sachems shall come wisdom to arrange\nfor the reference to her of dissensions that may arise among you. I have\nspoken, and will now follow the call of the Great Spirit.\"\n\n[18] See legend \"The Peacemaker,\" and note on same.\n\nAt that moment sweet strains of music burst upon the ears of the\nlistening multitude like the gentle voice of summer in the branches of\nthe pine trees; they heard it, but knew not whence it came. The wise\nman stepped forward, and as he was seated in the mystic canoe the music\nburst upon the air in tones more beautiful than the red men had ever\nbefore heard. But the snow-white canoe did not skim the waters of the\nlake. Slowly it rose as the choral chant pealed forth, and, following\nthe direction taken by the celestial bird, disappeared among the summer\nclouds as the melody ceased.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PEACEMAKER\n\n\nKIENUKA, the peace-home, was desolate. The fire of pine knots that for\nmany generations had burned upon its fire-place was dead and sodden. No\nvoice of welcome was heard within its doors. Its hangings of skins and\nrobes were torn and loosened by the winds of all seasons. The broad paths\nleading from the sun-rising, the sun-setting, the guide star and the\nsummer land, which for many hundred moons by night and by day had been\npressed by the feet of the red children of the forest when in trouble,\nin danger, in need of counsel, or in want, were now choked with briars\nand thistles. The wolf whelped her young in the couch of the Peacemaker.\nBirds without song and of black plumage built their nests and muttered\nhoarse croakings to their nestlings in the roof of the peace-home.\n\nBlood had been shed in Kienuka and the Great Spirit had made the\npeace-home desolate.\n\nWhen Hiawatha, the wise man, was speaking the last words to his children,\nhe told them to choose from their tribes a maiden possessing wisdom,\nwho should be their peacemaker. So the red men built a home wherein the\npeacemaker should dwell, and doors were made at each side so that it\nmattered not whence came the wayfarer he would find a welcome. Then the\nmaidens of the tribes were brought together at the council-place and\nto them were submitted the questions in dispute among their brothers.\nThe wise men decided that she who would decide the greatest number most\njustly should be the Peacemaker Queen and dwell within the fortress they\nhad built. Thus the Queen was chosen, and when the Great Spirit called\nher to the long home she was mourned by the people of all the tribes, and\nnone entered the peace-home until her successor had been selected.\n\nIn this manner came to the peace-home Genetaska, the Seneca maiden, whose\nwisdom and kindness were known to all, and whose beauty was like that of\nthe full summer. She was the most famous of all the Peacemaker Queens,\nand the red men said that Minnehaha, the daughter of Hiawatha, came often\nfrom the sky on the back of the celestial bird and gave her advice and\nguidance. Whoever went to the doors of the peace-home disputing came\nfrom them again, when they had eaten and rested, with no anger in their\nhearts, for Genetaska soothed them by her gentle voice. To the sick\nand wounded she ministered with the greatest medicine herbs; to those\nheated by passion she told tales of the Great Spirit that taught them\nmoderation. Disputes among the tribes were so adjusted that the hunters\nor warriors who would come to Kienuka with anger and war in their hearts\nleft its doors as brothers.\n\nOne day there came to the peace-home two young chiefs--one from the\nOneidas and the other from the Onondagas. Each claimed that his arrow\nhad given the death stroke to a mighty buck they had been trailing in\nthe forest. When they had tried their skill with weapons, agreeing that\nthe most skillful should possess the slain animal, neither could gain\nadvantage over the other. Then said the Onondaga: \"I will fight thee,\nOneida, and he who lives may carry to his village the mighty buck and the\nscalp-lock of his enemy.\"\n\nBut the Oneida said: \"Thou, Onondaga, must remember the words that have\nbeen spoken in thine ears by the old men who listened to the teachings\nof Hiawatha, that when two hunters of the Five Nations dispute in the\npaths of the forest they shall not fight, but tell their dispute to the\nPeacemaker. The Oneida will go with thee to Kienuka.\"\n\nWhen they had eaten and rested at the peace-home, the hunters were told\nthat each should take half of the buck back to his village. \"For,\" said\nthe Peacemaker, \"the animal is large, and with half each hath enough for\nhis wife and little ones.\"\n\n\"The Oneida is alone in his home,\" said the chief. \"I carry the meat to\nthe old men and to the women who have no sons. The Oneida has seen no\nmaiden he would take to his wigwam till he beheld Genetaska, the Peace\nQueen.\"\n\nThen said the Onondaga: \"The home of the Onondaga is desolate since the\nplague robbed it of the loved ones. He is a great chief and has power in\nhis tribe, for he was never defeated on the chase or in the contest. But\nthe Peacemaker has made his heart weak, and he can never be strong again\nunless she will come to his wigwam.\"\n\nThen said Genetaska: \"Go, thou, my brothers, and think no more of the\nPeace Queen, who is chosen by the tribes and may not be the wife of any.\nSeek thou other maidens, who will gladly become wives to you.\"\n\nBut when they were gone there was no longer peace in the heart of\nGenetaska, for the form of the Oneida was before her eyes.\n\nWhen the autumn came--when its first tints had touched the forests and\nmerely tinged the dark green with a hazy brown--the Oneida chief came at\nsun-setting to the peace-home and stood boldly before the Peacemaker. He\nsaid:\n\n\"The Oneida hath built a wigwam in the summer land where the Five Tribes\ndo not care to go. He hath filled it with robes and supplied it with food\nand it awaits the coming of Genetaska, the Seneca maiden, who loves the\nOneida. The tribes will choose another Peace Queen when thou art gone,\nand thy heart will no longer be heavy with the burdens of all the red\nchildren who come to thee with their troubles. Will not Genetaska go?\"\n\nThe maiden looked boldly into the face of her lover and answered:\n\"Genetaska will go.\"\n\nToward the summer land they left Kienuka, and when they came to the river\nthey glided rapidly along in the Oneida's canoe and were lost to their\npeople forever.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut the peace-home was desolate, and to its doors in the darkness came\nrunning two men whose anger toward each other had long been fed with\njealousy and hatred. When no Peacemaker was found their rage could no\nlonger be controlled, and they fell upon each other with their hunting\nclubs and fought till they sank from exhaustion and died before each\nother's eyes.\n\nThe peace-home had been desecrated by the shedding of blood. Henceforth\nit was a place shunned by all men.\n\n\n\n\nAN UNWELCOME VISITOR\n\n\nWHEN the frosts were unlocked from the hillsides there came into one\nof the villages of the red men a mild and quiet old man whom none of\nthem had ever seen before. He stood beside the field where the young\nmen played at their games, and when some of the fathers approached to\nbid him welcome to their village and wigwams they saw that his body was\ncovered with sores, and they made excuses to turn aside that they might\nnot meet him. When none went to him and called him brother, he turned to\nthe village and walked slowly from door to door of the wigwams. The women\nsaw him and as he approached their doors they covered their children's\nfaces that they might not see his features, and wished in their hearts\nthat he would not enter. When the little man read their thoughts, with\nsaddened eyes and heavy steps he would turn away and seek another\nhabitation, where he would again see that he was not welcome and turn his\nweary footsteps from the door. When he had visited all the wigwams in the\nvillage without finding a welcome in any, he went suddenly to the forest\nand they saw him no more.\n\nThe next day he appeared in another village, where the same weary round\nof the day before brought him no shelter. For many days thereafter he\nwent from village to village, and, though he spoke to no one, he knew\nthat their hearts were not open to him and that they shuddered at his\ncoming.\n\nFinally there remained but two more villages to visit and he feared that\nhe should find none who would bid him enter their homes that they might\nminister to his wants. At last, however, as he approached a humble cabin\nhis eyes brightened, for he read in the heart of the woman who saw him\ncoming that she had taken pity on his forlorn condition and that her\nhospitality would overcome the dread his appearance caused. Said the\nwoman:\n\n\"Thou art welcome, my brother, for thou art a stranger.\"\n\nThen said the strange man: \"Peace to my sister's house and happiness to\nher husband.\"\n\nThen the woman spread a couch of soft furs at one side of the wigwam and\nbade the stranger lie down; and when she had done so she asked him how\nshe should minister to his wants. Then the strange man said:\n\n\"Listen, my sister: Thou of all thy race hast had in thy heart pity and\nlove for a suffering and friendless creature that have led thee to give\nhim shelter in thy house. Know then, my sister, that thy name shall\nhenceforth be great. Many wonders shall be taught thee, and thy sons\nwill be made chiefs and thy daughters princesses. I am Quarara, and bear\nmessages from the Great Spirit.\"\n\nThen Quarara described to the woman a plant which she went forth into the\nforest and procured. She returned to the hut and prepared it as he bade\nher, and when it was administered to him he recovered from his sickness\nand the sores left him.\n\nQuarara remained at the woman's wigwam many moons and brought upon\nhimself all manner of fevers, plagues and diseases, and for each one he\ndescribed the medicine root or herb that would perform its cure. These\nthe woman found in the forest and brought to him, and he made it plain\nhow they should be prepared to do the will of the Great Spirit and defeat\nthe evil spirits and witches that plagued his people.\n\nThen said the strange man, Quarara, to her:\n\n\"Thou, Oh! sister, knowest now what the Great Spirit would have thee\nteach his children freely. Thou hast been patient and kind and thy heart\nis filled with gentleness. The sons that shall be born to thee shall be\ncalled Sagawahs, the healers, and thou and thy family shall be remembered\nthroughout all generations.\"\n\nQuarara then brought upon himself the fatal disease, for which there is\nno remedy, and returned to his home with the Great Spirit.\n\n\n\n\n_Bits of Folk-Lore_\n\n\n\n\nBITS OF FOLK-LORE\n\n\nFIRE was believed to be a giant that was fed on pygmies or small spirits\nexisting only in the wind. The process of fanning the embers into flame\nwith one's breath was only attempted at the greatest hazard, as it was\n\"very bad medicine.\"\n\n\nWhoever might be engaged in the practice of any mystery should never\nbe disturbed or interfered with except under penalty of the direst\nmisfortunes and the suspicion of all his tribe. They might wonder in\ntheir own hearts, but they must never betray the least curiosity to\nfind out what one of their number might be trying to bring about by his\nexperiments, incantations or mysterious performances. The arrows of a\ncurious hunter never hit the mark, and the corn planted and tilled by a\ncurious woman bore only crooked and withered ears.\n\n\nThe sun was commonly known as \"the smiling face of the Great Spirit,\" and\nwhen it disappeared at night it was supposed to have entered the door\nof a great wigwam which was built in the form of a semi-circle. In the\nmorning it reappeared at the other door of the wigwam. Their ideas about\nastronomy were extremely vague and were constantly changing. The moon was\nbelieved to be a sister of the sun, and in time would be able to give as\nmuch light as her brother. The stars were bright and glowing brands of\nfire tied with thongs and held by spirits created for that purpose by\nthe Great Spirit. One star alone, the North Star, was held by the Great\nSpirit himself because it was always in the same place. It was called the\nguide. Other stars and planets were named, but the names have not been\npreserved.\n\n\nThe springs and the streams they formed were first made for the\nconvenience of the Great Spirit. He desired to leave the Happy\nHunting-Grounds and make a journey over the earth and so he sent a\nlarge white bird to carry water from the original spring near the Great\nSpirit's wigwam and plant it in the earth at convenient distances.\nSections of country that were without springs had not been visited by the\nGreat Spirit.\n\n\nLanguage was looked upon as a sacred gift, and was as much a part of the\nbody as the head or limbs. For this reason an Indian never spoke the\nlanguage of another nation except in the capacity of interpreter. When\na council was held between tribes the orators conducted the debate in\ntheir own language, and the words were translated, when necessary, as\nthey fell from the lips of the speakers by those who had been trained\nfor that purpose. It was considered the greatest possible affront to\ntheir ancestors and to the Great Spirit for the Iroquois to speak any\nlanguage other than their own. Deaf mutes among them were pointed out as\npeople who were not satisfied with the language of their fathers and in\nconsequence had lost the power to speak or hear.\n\n\nDifficulties and contentions were spirits of evil that flew about\ninciting trouble. When disputes and differences were arranged or settled\nthey would arise again unless buried. When terms of a settlement had been\nagreed upon it was customary to dig a hole in the ground, around which\nthe disputants would gather, and each party to the dispute would talk\nhis grievances into the excavation, absolutely unburdening himself of\nall he had to say. When the ceremony was concluded, the excavated earth\nwas returned and firmly stamped and pounded down. In this way, it was\nbelieved, the quarrel could be forever buried unless one of the parties\nto the ceremony deliberately removed the earth and again opened the\nprison of the bad spirits. From this belief grew the custom of \"burying\nthe hatchet\" when peace was secured, and of digging it up when war was\ndetermined upon.\n\n\nThe Aurora Borealis was believed to be the reflection of the light of the\ncamp-fires in the Happy Hunting-Grounds. When its lights were seen it was\nsupposed that the brothers who had passed into the future were rejoicing\nover the successful termination of some great hunt or participating in\na feast. The size of a fire that could cast such wonderful lights was\nbeyond their comprehension, and often the death-song of the warriors and\nchiefs would refer to their hope of soon standing beside the fire that\nwas greater than the mountains. It was customary for them to stand in\nthe open air and make long speeches to the spirits during the time the\nAurora was to be seen. They would chide the spirits for wastefulness in\nbuilding so large a fire and call upon them not to burn all the forests\nof the Great Spirit before their friends on the earth were admitted to\nthe charmed circle and permitted to enjoy the pleasures of a camp-fire\nof such gigantic proportions.\n\n\nIt was wrong to complain of pain of any kind or to show by any act that\npain was experienced. Both pain and suffering were caused by bad spirits,\nand surely one would not give their enemies the pleasure of knowing that\ntheir attempts had in any manner caused discomfort. The Great Spirit\nwas trying with all his power to relieve those who suffered pain, and\nto complain when your friend was doing his best to aid you would make\nhim think that his efforts were not appreciated. Besides this, after the\nfirst shock of a wound, none of the animals betray by their cries the\npresence of pain. The dog will carry a broken leg for days, wistfully but\nuncomplainingly. The cat, stricken with club or stone, or caught in some\ntrap from which it gnaws its way to freedom, crawls to some secret place\nand bears its agony in silence. The wolf or bear, caught in the pitfalls\nand pierced with scores of stinging arrows, indicate by no outward sign\nthat they suffer. The wounded deer speeds to some thick brake and in\npitiful submission waits for death. The eagle, struck by the arrow in\nmid-air, fights to the last against the fatal summons. There is no moan\nor sound of pain, and the defiant look never fades from its eyes until\nthe lids close over them never to uncover again. The Indians learned many\nof their lessons from the animals and were taught to be as brave and\nuncomplaining as their brothers of the forests.\n\n\n\n\n_The Happy Hunting-Grounds_\n\n\n\n\nTHE HAPPY HUNTING-GROUNDS\n\n\nIT is hardly possible to define the creed of the people comprising the\nIroquois, for it was so intermingled with curious superstitions of every\nkind that it cannot be traced to a continuous doctrine like the religions\nof other peoples. They had no special teachers of religion, and the\nprivilege of adding as many superstitions as the mind could conceive was\npossessed by each individual member. Thus their religious belief was\nencumbered with almost every superstition that could be created in the\nminds of an ignorant and uncivilized people dwelling in wildernesses\nfilled with numerous wild beasts and given over to the undisputed sway of\nsolitude.\n\nIn a general way, however, according to the explanations made by\nCornplanter of the belief entertained by him, their religion saw God as\na great and loving spirit whose extended arms bore up and encircled the\nuniverse. They believed this Great Spirit created all the objects, both\nanimate and inanimate, upon the earth; that he smiled upon his people\nin sunshine and shower, and frowned upon them in fierce storms and\nwhirlwinds. He peopled the air with millions of embodied spirits, some of\nwhich were evil, and unless propitiated caused pain, sickness, trouble\nand death. Others were good spirits and aided the hunter in his chase,\nthe lover in his suit, and brought male offspring to the mother's arms.\nFinally, he had prepared for them a \"Happy Hunting-Ground,\" where every\none should go after death. There beautiful birds would make resonant\nthe hills and valleys with their enchanting song. The Great Spirit had\ncovered that vast and magnificent country with plains, and forests, and\nlimpid streams, in which and over which would sport the red deer, bears,\nbuffaloes, wild horses and all animals and fishes useful for clothing\nand food. The good Indian could there reside forever with his wives and\npapooses, climbing the rugged hills without weariness, sporting in the\nrivers and lakes that never failed to supply an abundance of fish--always\nreturning from the chase laden with the trophies of his skill. But the\nbad Indian would return from the chase empty-handed; he would lose his\nway and wander in the labyrinth of beautiful paths that led him beside\nfields of growing maize which disappeared when he attempted to pluck the\nglistening ears. Then his more fortunate brothers would take pity upon\nhim and lead him to his home, and his punishment would be the chagrin he\nwould feel when of necessity he was compelled to partake of his brother's\nbounty.\n\nIn the beginning, the red men dwelt with the Great Spirit in this\ndelightful country, but they were so boisterous and full of play that\nthe Great Spirit could get no rest on account of their noise. Besides\nthis, there were no evil spirits or dangers there, and they could not\nlearn to be brave and courageous unless they were situated where they\ncame in contact with opposition and trouble. So the Great Spirit made\na large basket in which he placed the red men, carefully covering them\nso they could not see the trail by which he took them from his home. He\nbrought them to the earth and left them with the promise that when they\nhad acquired bravery and circumspection they should again be carried to\nhis home and there dwell for \"so many moons that all the needles on the\ngreatest pine tree would not tell them all.\"\n\nThe Iroquois held sacred no day on which to perform particular religious\nexercises, but they had several annual festivals which were observed\nwith regularity for ages, and which are, in a measure, celebrated by\nthe so-called pagans among the Senecas, Onondagas and Tuscaroras at the\npresent time. The first of these was the \"Maple Dance,\" and exemplified\ntheir way of thanking the Great Spirit for tempering the wind so that\nthe snows would disappear and the sweet waters would flow from the sides\nof the maple trees that abounded in the wilderness about their homes.\nPrevious to holding this, and all other festivals, the inhabitants of\neach village would meet at the council-place for what might be termed\nto-day \"a confession of sins\"--for such it really was. When all had\nassembled, one of the oldest sachems would stand before his brethren with\na string of white wampum in his hands and tell wherein he had sinned\naccording to Indian ethics. When he had concluded, the wampum would\nbe passed to another, and so on until all had unburdened themselves.\nThe open declaration of their misdeeds did not relieve them of the\nconsequences of the deeds themselves, but in a measure it tempered the\npunishment. The moral code may be briefly summed up as follows:\n\n  It was a sin to neglect the old in any manner, or to refuse to share\n  with them the fruits of the chase or the products of the fields,\n  and it was especially sinful to neglect or disregard aged or infirm\n  parents.\n\n  To speak in derision or slightingly of anyone who might be lame,\n  blind, idiotic, insane--crippled in any manner or unfortunate in any\n  degree, or to refuse them aid or shelter.\n\n  To refuse to share food or shelter with anyone who might apply for\n  either, or to fail to care for the sick and for orphan children and\n  widows.\n\n  To break any treaty or agreement made at the council-fire when the\n  peace-pipe had been smoked, or after the parties making the treaty\n  had partaken of food together.\n\n  To violate the chastity of any woman.\n\n  To kill animals for any other purpose than for food and covering, and\n  for the protection of growing crops and human life.\n\n  To tell a falsehood, even though it might be of the most innocent\n  character.\n\n  To show cowardice in meeting any kind of danger or to shrink from\n  exposure, pain, suffering, sickness or death.\n\n  To take human life unless the person killed was a member of a tribe\n  with which the Iroquois was at war.\n\nThere were no punishments prescribed for breaking any of these or\nother recognized laws, but the person offending by the commission of\nthe greater sins was, by common consent and custom, shunned, scorned,\nshamed, neglected, pointed at and ostracised from all connection whatever\nwith his tribe and relatives. This generally resulted in the culprit's\nsuicide, which was looked upon as a very brave act, and was full\nreparation for the wrongs committed.\n\nSoon after the \"Maple Dance\" had been held came the \"Planting Festival,\"\nwhich was conducted as a thank offering to the Great Spirit for unfolding\nthe buds upon the trees, decking the woods and fields with flowers and\nwarming the earth so that it could receive and nourish the seed.\n\nWhen the seed had been planted, and upon the appearance of the first\nshoots of corn, the \"Hope Festival\" was held. At this time, as the red\nmen circled around the glowing fires, they called upon the Great Spirit\nto protect the seeds that he had given life and asked him to bring them\nto maturity. They sprinkled leaves of tobacco upon the fires and repeated\nslow, monotonous chants or prayers that had been used by them for unknown\ngenerations. They asked the Great Spirit to give attention to their words\narising to him in the smoke and not to let his ears become closed that he\nmight not hear. They said:\n\n  Thy children thank thee for the life thou hast given the dead seeds.\n  Give us a good season that our crops may be plentiful. Continue to\n  listen for the smoke still rises. Preserve our old men among us and\n  protect the young. Help us to celebrate this festival as did our\n  fathers.\n\nThe \"Green Corn Festival\" was held when the season had so far advanced\nthat the corn was ready to be used as roasting ears. The old women\ndecided when this time had come, and none might partake of the corn\nuntil the festival had proceeded to the proper stage. This was a time\nof returning to the Great Spirit their thanks for his goodness, and the\nfestivities lasted several days. They were wild and uncouth, of course,\nbut the participants had faith that these ceremonies were pleasing to\nthe Great Spirit. The revelry was conducted in a prescribed form that\nprobably did not change for centuries. In the midst of one of the dances\npeculiar to the \"Green Corn Festival\" the oldest sachem of the tribe\ngave utterance to a prayer of thanksgiving, which has been translated as\nfollows:\n\n  Great Spirit in the Happy Hunting-Grounds, listen to our words. We\n  have assembled to perform a sacred duty as thou hast commanded and\n  which has been performed by our fathers since thou taught them to\n  observe this festival. We salute thee with our thanks that thou hast\n  caused our supporters to yield abundant harvest.\n\n  Great Spirit, our words continue to flow towards thee. Preserve\n  us from all danger. Preserve our aged men. Preserve our mothers.\n  Preserve our warriors. Preserve our children. Preserve our old men\n  that they may remember all that thou hast told them. Preserve our\n  young men and give them strength to celebrate with pleasure thy\n  sacred festival.\n\n  Great Spirit, the council of thy people here assembled, the men and\n  women with many winters on their heads, the strong warriors, the\n  women and children, unite their voices in thanksgiving to thee.\n\nThe \"Harvest Festival\" was held a few weeks afterwards and was similar in\ncharacter, though not considered of so much importance as the \"Green Corn\nFestival.\"\n\nSome time during the winter was held the \"White Dog Dance.\" This,\nhowever, was not of so ancient an origin as the other festivals and was\nprobably a superstition promulgated by some of the great \"medicine men\"\nwithin the last two hundred and fifty years. Evil spirits that might have\nbeen driven into the houses of the Indians by the cold, were induced by\nvarious ceremonies to enter the body of a white dog or gray fox that was\nled from house to house for that purpose. Then, with due ceremony, the\nanimal was killed and the bad spirits cremated with the body--the jaws\nhaving been tied together so that the spirits could not escape through\nits mouth, into which they had entered.\n\nThe Indians had numerous other ceremonial dances and any number of social\ndances--more than any other race of people, for they had few other\namusements--but those enumerated above were the only strictly religious\nfestivals. These were in every sense reverential, devotional and inspired\nby faith. The red men believed that if they observed them according to\nancient customs and usages it would please the Great Spirit and that he\nwould eventually take them all to the Happy Hunting-Grounds. While they\nclearly believed in an immortal life and in the resurrection of the body,\nthey had no belief whatever in the infliction of future punishment, other\nthan that experienced by the hunter whose arrows could not procure the\ngame he coveted and trailed in the land where game abounded forever.\n\nHad these people, possessing (as they most certainly did) a religion\ncombining so many of the elements of the Christian religion, been\ndiscovered by any one of the enlightened nations of the present day\ninstead of by the intolerant and greedy bigots of four hundred years ago,\ntheir history would not have been written with so many sad scenes for\nillustrations.\n\nAbout the year 1800 a new religion was revealed to the members of the\nIroquois then residing in New York State, and as it is what is now known\nas the Pagan belief, it may be well to describe it briefly. At that time\nthere was living on Cornplanter Island, in the State of Pennsylvania, a\nhalf-brother of Cornplanter and Blacksnake by a common father--Abeel,\nthe white trader. His name was Handsome Lake (Ga-ne-o-di-yo), and he\nwas born near the site of the village of Avon, N. Y., in 1735, and\ndied in 1815 at Onondaga when on a pastoral visit to that nation. His\nlife had been spent mainly in dissipation, and in his old age he fell\nill and was not expected to live from day to day. One night he sent\nhis daughter to summon his renowned brothers to his bedside, as he was\nconvinced that his end was drawing near. His brothers reached the house\nshortly after daylight and found Handsome Lake at some distance from\nthe hut, apparently dead. They carried him in and had commenced to make\npreparations for the funeral, when suddenly he revived, sat upright and\ncommenced to talk very strangely. He recovered rapidly and at his urgent\nrequest a council of his people was summoned to meet at Cornplanter, and\nto this assembly he revealed all that had befallen him.\n\nHis revelations soon became the religion of the Iroquois and may be\nconsidered their creed at the present time. Handsome Lake journeyed from\ntribe to tribe and taught the new faith till his death, fifteen years\nafter. He was regarded as a second Hiawatha and had wonderful influence.\nAfter his death other teachers took his place and continued to expound\nthe new faith as nearly as possible in the exact words of him to whom\nit was believed to have been first revealed. Unlike modern theologians,\nthey made no attempt to put their views and ideas ahead of the original\nrevelation, for they commenced each new section of the long and tedious\nrecital with the words, \"Thus said Handsome Lake,\" and they followed him\nas closely as possible, both in words and gestures. They did not add to\nor take away--they simply repeated. The last great follower of Handsome\nLake was his grandson (Sase-ha-wa), known to the whites as Jimmy Johnson,\nwho died about 1830. About the middle of August, 1894, a grand council of\nthe chiefs was held at Onondaga, and on that occasion these traditions\nwere revived, several days being spent in the work.\n\nStripped of long explanations as to how the message was told and the\ndetails of the various provisions and requirements, the creed of Handsome\nLake was as follows:\n\nAs he lay in his cabin looking out of the window at the stars,\nmomentarily expecting death, three beautiful men came to his couch and\ngave him some berries to eat, which threw him into a deep sleep. When\nhe awoke he was told by one of the men that he might live if he would\nthroughout the remainder of his life be a teacher of his people and speak\nto them the words that the Great Spirit put into his mouth. He promised\nto do this and immediately became strong. Then the men conducted him to\nthe outer air, where he was found by his brothers, and, after showing\nhim many wonderful things concerning the Happy Hunting-Grounds, again\nthrew him into a sleep and disappeared. When he taught he closed his\neyes and spoke only the words put into his mouth by the Great Spirit;\ntherefore, whatever he told them was inspired. The doctrines expounded\nby him did not displace any of the old ceremonies so dear to the heart\nof the Iroquois. In fact, he urged the observance of all the religious\ndances, saying they were pleasing to the Creator. His first efforts\nwere directed toward the eradication of intemperance, and here entered\nthe first threat of future punishment in the creed of the Iroquois. A\ndrunkard was promised boiling hot liquor, which he must drink in great\nquantities. When he had drunk until he could hold no more, streams of\nfire would issue from his mouth and he would be commanded to sing as\nhe had done on earth after drinking the fire-water. Husbands and wives\nwho had been quarrelsome on earth were to be compelled to rage at each\nother till their eyes and tongues ran out so far they could neither see\nnor speak. A wife-beater would be repeatedly led before a red-hot statue\nwhich he would be told to strike as he struck his wife upon earth, and\nwhen the blow fell, molten sparks would fly from the image and burn\nhis arm to the bone. Lazy people were compelled to till cornfields in\na burning sun, and as fast as the weeds were struck down they would\nagain spring up with renewed luxuriance. Those who sold the lands of\ntheir people to the whites were assigned to the task of removing a\nnever-diminishing pile of sand, one grain at a time, over a vast distance.\n\nThese are but samples of the terrible punishments to be dealt out to\nevil-doers of all kinds.\n\nAt the same time he taught that rewards would be freely bestowed to\nthose who kept the laws laid down by the Great Spirit, and into these\nlaws as revealed by Handsome Lake, with many fanciful and poetical\nimaginings that pleased the simple people to whom he taught, he wove the\nTen Commandments. He taught morality, temperance, patience, forbearance,\ncharity, forgiveness, and all the cardinal virtues.\n\nHandsome Lake implicitly believed that the vision he described was a\ndirect visitation from the Creator, and he also believed that in his\nteachings he was simply giving voice to the wishes of that Creator.\nThere is little doubt that he exerted a decided influence for good, as\ndid also his followers for many years after his death; but when sects\nand denominations commenced to tumble over each other in their zeal to\n\"Christianize the Iroquois,\" and hair-splitting questions of theology\nwere put forward to confuse and confound the teachings of the prophet of\ntheir own blood, the Indians began to doubt all that had been told them\nin the past and their ears were stopped to all that might be preached to\nthem in the future. It may be truthfully stated that few Indians have at\npresent any well-grounded religious belief, yet if they were not fearful\nthat it would cause them to be subjected to further legal restrictions\nthey would be well pleased to return once more to the free enjoyment of\nthe teachings of Handsome Lake, their greatest prophet.\n\n\n\n\n_Sacred Stone of the Oneidas_\n\n\n_The Sacred Stone of the Oneida Indians_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SACRED STONE OF THE ONEIDAS\n\n\nIN Forest Hill Cemetery, at Utica, New York, a short distance from the\nentrance, may be seen what is probably the most interesting historical\nrelic of the Iroquois--the Sacred Stone of the Oneida Indians. The legend\nconnected with this monument is as strange and poetic as any of those\ngiven in the preceding pages, and quite naturally should have a place in\nthis volume. The story was obtained from the Indians by the late William\nTracy before their removal to Green Bay, Wisconsin, and as told by him\nand by contemporary writers is as follows:\n\nTwo brothers and their families left the Onondagas and erected their\nwigwams on the north shore of the Oneida River, at the outlet of the\nlake bearing that name. They kept the celebrations commanded by the\nGreat Spirit and he was pleased with their obedience. One morning there\nappeared at their resting place an oblong stone, unlike any of the rocks\nin the vicinity, and the Indians were told that from it their name should\nbe taken, and that it would for all time be the altar around which their\ncouncils and their festive and religious ceremonies should take place, as\nit would follow them wherever they should go. So they took the name of\n\"The People of the Upright Stone,\" and kept their home beside this altar\nmany years. But finally they became so numerous that there was not room\nfor them here, and they builded their chief village upon the south side\nof the lake, where a creek bearing the same name discharges its waters.\nTrue to the promise, and unassisted by human hands, the sacred stone\nfollowed and located once more in the midst of them.\n\nHere the Oneidas flourished till the confederation of the Iroquois\nwas formed, and they became second in the order of precedence in the\nconfederacy. After many years it was determined by the chief men of the\nnation to remove their council-fire to the summit of one of a chain of\nhills about twenty miles distant--a commanding point before which is\nspread a broad view of the fertile Stockbridge valley. And when the\ncouncil of the nation had selected this new home for its people, the\nsacred stone once more followed in the train of its children. It rested\nin a grove of butternut trees, from beneath whose branches the eye could\nlook out upon a landscape not equaled elsewhere in their national domain.\nHere it remained to see the Iroquois increase in power and importance\nuntil the name struck terror to their foes from the Hudson to the Father\nof Waters. Around this unhewn altar, within its leafy temple was gathered\nall the wisdom of the nation when measures affecting its welfare were to\nbe considered. Their eloquence, as effective and beautiful as ever fell\nfrom Greek or Roman lips, was poured forth upon the ears of the sons and\ndaughters of the forest. Logan, the white man's friend, was there trained\nto utter words that burned, and there Sconondoa, the last orator of his\nrace, the warrior chief and lowly Christian convert, with matchless\npower swayed the hearts of his countrymen; there the sacred rites were\ncelebrated at the return of each harvest moon and each new year, when\nevery son and daughter of the stone came up like the Jewish tribes of old\nto join in the national festivities.\n\nThis was the resting place of the stone when the first news came that\nthe paleface had come from beyond the bitter waters. It remained to see\nhim penetrate the forest and come among its children a stranger; to see\nhim welcomed by the red men to a home, and then to see its red children\nshrink and wither away until the white man's sons plowed the fields\nbeneath whose forest coverings slept many generations.\n\nAt length the council-fire of the Oneidas was extinguished; its people\nwere scattered, and there was no new resting place for them to which this\npalladium might betake itself and again become their altar. It was a\nstranger in the ancient home of its children, an exile upon its own soil.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was known to several of the trustees of the Forest Hill Cemetery\nAssociation that when the Oneidas removed to Green Bay and broke up their\ntribal relations they were very loath to leave their altar unprotected,\nand when the association was formed in the spring of 1849, correspondence\nwas had with some of the head men of the nation, and consultations were\nheld with the few remaining in the vicinity of their old home. They were\nmost desirous that the stone should be protected, and were happy in\nthe prospect of its removal to some place where it would remain secure\nfrom the contingencies and dangers to which it might be exposed in a\nprivate holding, liable to constant change of owners. With the consent\nof the owner of the farm upon which it was located, the huge boulder was\ncarefully loaded upon a wagon drawn by four horses, and in the autumn\nof 1849, accompanied by a delegation of Oneida Indians and two of the\ntrustees of the cemetery association, it was conveyed with considerable\ndifficulty to its present site. It is said by some who remember the\noccasion, that before the Indians departed from the cemetery, they\nassembled around the stone and betrayed in their leave-taking pitiful\nmanifestations of grief, several of them kneeling beside the boulder and\nkissing it.\n\nHere this mass of white granite, which is unlike any of the stones or\nrocks to be found south of the northern dip of the Adirondacks, or the\ngranite hills of Vermont and New Hampshire, remained on a grassy mound a\nhalf century. Its weight is estimated to be about four thousand pounds.\nIn the spring of 1902 the cemetery authorities caused it to be placed\nupon a base of Westerly marble, upon one side of which is fixed a bronze\ntablet bearing this inscription:\n\n       SACRED STONE OF THE\n          ONEIDA INDIANS\n\n             ------\n\n    THIS  STONE  WAS  THE NATIONAL\n    ALTAR OF  THE ONEIDA  INDIANS,\n    AROUND  WHICH  THEY   GATHERED\n    FROM YEAR TO YEAR TO CELEBRATE\n    SOLEMN   RELIGIOUS  RITES  AND\n    TO  WORSHIP  THE GREAT  SPIRIT.\n    THEY WERE  KNOWN  AS THE TRIBE\n    OF  THE  UPRIGHT  STONE.  THIS\n    VALUABLE  HISTORICAL RELIC WAS\n    BROUGHT HERE  FROM STOCKBRIDGE,\n    MADISON COUNTY, N. Y., IN 1849.\n\nMany times during the first twenty-five or thirty years after the sacred\nstone was deposited upon Forest Hill it was visited by members of its\ntribe; and even now at occasional intervals the cemetery employees see\nthe figure of an Indian passing along the graveled paths to pause beside\nthis sole remaining monument of a broken race.\n\nIt is pleasing to know that this granite boulder will here forever\nremain, a memorial to a people celebrated for their savage virtues,\nand who were once by no means obscure actors in some of the stirring\npassages of our country's history; a people who were happy in their homes\nand who loved these fertile hills and valleys as we love them, but of\nwhose ownership and sovereignty, whose teeming life and undisputed sway,\nthere remains only this mute, unembellished monument.\n\nTruthfully it may be said: \"He-o-weh-go-gek\"--once a home, now a memory.\n\n\n\n\n_Notes to the Legends_\n\n\n\n\nNOTES TO THE LEGENDS\n\n\nTHE CONFEDERATION OF THE IROQUOIS, Page 23.--When the Europeans\ndiscovered North America they found that portion of the continent lying\neast of a line about as far west as the city of Cleveland, Ohio, and\nfrom the great lakes on the north to the Chesapeake Bay on the south,\npractically under the control of a confederacy of tribes, to which the\nFrench in after years applied the term Iroquois, and which the English\ncalled the Five Nations. This confederacy was composed of the Senecas,\nMohawks, Onondagas, Oneidas and Cayugas. In the year 1712 the Tuscaroras,\na tribe previously located in North Carolina, were defeated in a war\nwith their white neighbors, and about one thousand eight hundred of them\nfled to what is now New York State, then the actual dwelling-place of\nmost of the Iroquois, and were adopted into the confederacy. The new\ntribe did not possess the energy and courage of their associates, and\nfor several years after their coming the men wore the tobacco pouches of\nthe women, thus acknowledging upon all occasions that they were inferior\nto the other five nations comprising the union which had become their\nprotectors. After the coming of the Tuscaroras the confederacy was known\nas the Six Nations of Indians--a designation which is often used at the\npresent time in law in matters pertaining to the Indians of New York\nState.\n\nThe date of the formation of this confederacy has never been settled with\nany degree of certainty, and all attempts have ended in mere conjecture\nand speculation. The most authentic tradition heretofore published places\nthe date about the year 1589, but there is no positive proof that this\ndate is accurate. The legend of its formation here published is not only\nbased upon what was considered reliable authority by Cornplanter, but has\nalso the sanction of that other noted Seneca chief, Governor Blacksnake\n(the Nephew), who was contemporaneous with Cornplanter, and who was\nprobably born about the year 1736 and died in 1859, at the supposed age\nof one hundred and twenty-three years. These chiefs both claimed to have\nseen a string of wampum in their early years that placed the formation\nof the confederacy at a time when there occurred a total eclipse of the\nsun--\"a darkening of the Great Spirit's smiling face\"--that took place\nwhen the corn was receiving its last tillage, long before events that\ncould be reliably ascribed to the year 1540.\n\nAt this point it will be well to say that the Indians possessed strings\nof wampum which actually recorded historical events. They were made\nupon the skins of some animal and were formed of small pieces of bone,\nvariously shaped and colored, small stones, and a variety of small\nshells, quills and sometimes the teeth or claws of animals. These were\nstrung upon the tanned skin by piercing holes through them and tying them\nsecurely with sinews. Certain ones in the tribe were selected as keepers\nof the wampum and it was their duty to store all necessary facts in their\nmemory and associate with them the successive lines and arrangement of\nthe stones, shells, quills, etc., so that they could be readily called to\nmind. At general councils these records were brought before the people\nand solemnly expounded. As these people possessed remarkable memories,\nthe meaning of the wampum string was accurately carried down from\ngeneration to generation.\n\nThe place of holding the council that formed the confederacy has also\nbeen the subject of some dispute, but it is pretty certain that it was\nnear the northern end of either Seneca or Cayuga Lake, and that it took\nplace in that year previous to 1540 in which occurred an eclipse of the\nsun in the month when the corn receives its last tilling.\n\nProfessor Lewis Swift, of the Warner Observatory, Rochester, kindly\nfurnished the following table of dates:\n\n  Annular Eclipse                  October 11, 1520\n\n  Annular Eclipse                       May 8, 1491\n\n  Total Eclipse                       July 29, 1478\n\n  Total Eclipse                       June 28, 1451\n\n  Annular Eclipse                    April 26, 1427\n\nThe first given, October, 1520, is out of the question, as the corn would\nhave been harvested at that time of year.\n\nThe second, May, 1491, would have been too early in the season to comply\nwith the conditions of the wampum record, for the corn would hardly have\nmade its appearance above the ground as early as the 8th of May.\n\nThe third, the last of July, 1478, will not answer the account given, for\nthe ears of the maize would have been forming at that time and the plant\nwould have passed its period of tillage.\n\nThe fourth date, June 28, 1451, must, therefore, have been the one upon\nwhich the confederation took place, as at that time of the year the corn\nin Central New York Is about ready for its final tilling.\n\nUpon the authority of these two chiefs it is not difficult to believe\nthat this date is historically correct and that the incident related in\nthe legend was the occasion upon which this wonderful union of republics\nwas formed. Considered as a government formed by a savage people, the\nconfederation of the Iroquois certainly was a wonderful union. Had it\nnot been broken and destroyed by the whites after a series of wars\nextending over two centuries and culminating in the great village-burning\nexpedition of Sullivan in 1779, this confederacy would have made rapid\nprogress in civilization.\n\nAmong the Five Nations alone can be found the Indian of the novelist and\npoet. The Iroquois stand out and above all other aboriginal inhabitants\nin their intelligence, their oratory, their friendship and their\ncharacter. Had they been treated with fairness; had they not been made\nthe subjects of the most cruel wrongs and deceptions; had they not been\ndriven to retaliation and finally to relentless slaughter, the pages of\nour histories would doubtless have recorded of this people achievements\nof which any nation might be proud.\n\n\nA LEGEND OF THE RIVER, Page 47.--This story was told of the Genesee River\nand Falls, and is occasionally heard among the older Senecas at the\npresent time. It is said that one family of the Senecas were very much\nopposed to signing the treaty that surrendered the territory surrounding\nthe scene of this legend. They claimed to be descendants of Tonadahwa and\nher brave rescuer, and believed that the spirits of their dead ancestors\noften visited the scene of their adventure and upon this spot plighted\nanew their troth. There is little doubt that this story, in the main, is\ntrue, and that a young Indian and a maiden, whom he was trying to rescue\nfrom a warrior of another tribe, were almost miraculously preserved alive\nafter being carried over the Genesee Falls in a canoe. This legend has\nbeen put forth in various ways, one of which was that the Indians living\nnear Niagara Falls were accustomed to sacrifice annually to the spirit of\nthe Falls by sending the fairest maiden of the tribe over the precipice\nin a white birch canoe, decked with fruits and flowers. Frequently male\nrelatives or lovers are said to have accompanied or followed victims who\nwere set apart for this sacrifice. If this is so it must have been a\npractice of some other tribe than those composing the Iroquois, for the\nIroquoian tribes did not practice customs which called for the sacrifice\nof human life, unless the sacrifice was self-imposed.\n\n\nLEGENDS OF THE CORN, Page 51.--Corn, or maize, was the chief food of the\nIndians and consequently there were many legends concerning its origin.\nThe two here given were looked upon as the oldest. The Indians had a firm\nbelief that it was possible to change one's form, unless the one desiring\nthe change was unfortunate enough to be under the influence of some evil\nspirit that out of malice prevented the transformation. The Indian women\nwere especially proud of the legend attributing the origin of the maize\nto the frightened maiden fleeing from her lover, and it was told to their\ndaughters very often and with many extravagant embellishments.\n\n\nTHE FIRST WINTER, Page 55.--The Indians were taught never to speak ill of\nany of the celestial bodies or of the works of nature. They must never\ncomplain of the glare and heat of the sun, lest they be stricken blind;\nnor must they complain of the clouds for fear that they might be shut up\nin caves in the mountains where no light could enter. The moon must be\ntreated with the same respect and consideration, for those who said aught\nagainst her were in imminent danger of death by a fall of rocks from the\nsky. The most severe storms of wind, snow, frost or hail must be treated\nonly with great respect. Those who complained about them were by this act\nunarmed and could not resist their attacks and rigors. In fact, they were\ntaught to \"take the bitter with the sweet\" without making wry faces. This\ntraining through long generations rendered the race cold and stoical,\napparently indifferent to suffering. They probably suffered the same as\nothers, but they bore it without a sign. This legend was a very common\none and was frequently told the young in order that the lesson might be\ndeeply impressed upon them that they should never set themselves up in\nopposition to the Great Spirit or complain of the enforcement of his laws.\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ONIATA, Page 63.--Cornplanter held that there were many\ntraditions among the Indians that in one way or another mentioned persons\nwho were described as white; and this, too, long before the coming of the\nEuropeans. One tradition was to the effect that thousands of years ago,\naway off to the southwest, there was a tribe of Indians in which were\nborn several children who were made \"like the Great Spirit, with faces\nas the sun.\" They were said to be very proud of the distinction and also\nto have been great warriors. They were believed to have wandered to the\nsouth and finally to have been lost in the mountains. After the coming of\nthe Europeans this tradition was revived, and the ever-ready imagination\nof the Indians added a sequel to the disappearance of the \"white\nIndians.\" They said the whites had gone across the bitter lake (the\nocean) and founded the nations of the palefaces and were now returning to\nconquer and subdue their forefathers. It was Cornplanter's belief that\nthis was the older continent and that the Indian was nearest the original\ncreation. He did not believe these traditional white people were as white\nas the English. They possessed all the Indian features, he said, but had\nlight-colored skins and light hair.\n\nSince this volume was made ready for publication the author found in\na Western newspaper an account of the return from New Mexico of a Mr.\nWilliamson, who had been spending some months in an out-of-the-way\nplace in that territory among the Moqui Indians. Mr. Williamson told an\ninteresting story about a family of that tribe the members of which are\nwhite. He saw these people and asserts there is no doubt as to their\ncolor. He also says they are without doubt pure Indians and that they\nhave none of the characteristics of the Albinos often seen among the\nNegroes. The family is known far and wide among the Indians themselves,\nbut as their place of residence is some distance from the usual routes\ntraveled by white men, they are rarely seen by others than the race to\nwhich they belong. The Indians look upon them as something holier than\nthe rest of the tribe, and hence do not talk about them to outsiders.\nThe narrator stated that the head man of the family says that there is a\ntradition among them that they originally came from the north and settled\namong the Moqui people, where they have been so long that they have lost\nall knowledge of the northern tribe and were not certain that they now\nspoke the language of their progenitors. When any of the Moqui married\ninto the family, their children were always white. This discovery, if\ntrue and there seems no reason for such a statement unless it be true\nis interesting in this connection and may be looked upon by some as a\nproof of the claim that about the year A. D. 400 a race of white people\noccupied the territory bordering the southern shores of the great lakes,\nand that they were driven away by red men who came from still further\nnorth. Of course this is speculation and will probably remain a mystery\nas long as the world stands.\n\n\nTHE BUZZARD'S COVERING, Page 77.--This legend regarding the buzzard's\nplumage was often told by the Indians to illustrate the failure of some\none of their number to win success in marriage or upon the chase. \"We\nwear the turkey buzzard's feathers,\" said one of the Sioux chiefs a few\nyears ago when making complaint to a Congressional committee. Few of\nthose who heard him understood the metaphor and the supposition was that\nhe referred to the plainness of his clothing compared with that of the\npoliticians who met him. This expression coming from a Sioux chief proves\nthat at least some of the legends common among the Iroquois centuries ago\ncan be traced among the tribes of the West at the present time. A white\nman to convey the same meaning would say, \"We have the worst end of the\nbargain,\" or, \"We have only a crooked stick at last.\"\n\n\nORIGIN OF THE VIOLET, Page 81.--The Indian term for the violet is \"heads\nentangled.\" This is not one of the legends told by Cornplanter. It was\ntold the author by a Seneca Indian named Simon Blackchief. Afterwards the\nauthenticity of the legend was confirmed by inquiries among other members\nof the Seneca Nation.\n\n\nTHE TURTLE CLAN, Page 85.--Of the various clans existing among the\nIroquois the Turtle was probably the most respected. The families\nbelonging to the Turtles were in reality the Freemasons of those days\nand to them were accorded the highest honors. At the council-fires the\nwisdom of the Turtles was displayed in counselling unity of action. Their\nopinions were almost always accepted without discussion.\n\n\nTHE HEALING WATERS, Page 89.--The Indians possessed for many years a\nknowledge of the curative properties of the mineral springs of this\ncountry and held the waters in the highest veneration. Their faith in\nthem was so great that some did not hesitate to declare that the waters\nwould cure all ills. Another spring that they held in high reverence\nwas an oil spring situated in Allegany County, New York State, near the\nPennsylvania line. The water of this spring is covered with a thick\nsubstance that was formerly collected by the Indians by conducting the\nwater into pools and skimming the surface with flat stones or the\nbranches of trees. The oil thus collected was used to mix with various\nsubstances to form war-paint, but more especially as a healing salve for\nvarious wounds. The Indians knew of its existence for many centuries,\nand there were few days in summer when bands of Indians were not in\nthat vicinity gathering the oil, which they evaporated by exposure to\nthe sun and then stored in raw-hide or earthen vessels for future use.\nYears ago the spring and a plot of ground one mile square was set aside\nas a reservation, and it is still held as such. A curious fact in this\nconnection is that the oil from the spring was vaseline in its crude\nstate, and the same substance is now extensively secured from petroleum\noil wells in that vicinity.\n\n\nTHE MESSAGE BEARERS, Page 119.--The belief of the Indians that the echoes\nthey heard among the mountains and forests were spirits who repeated from\none to another the words spoken by the men and women until the words\nreached Heaven itself, is almost too beautiful to be destroyed by the\ncold facts of science. There is something about their theory that appeals\nvery strongly to all and makes us wish that we, like the Indians of a\nthousand years ago, could believe that our prayers, if spoken boldly,\nwould be caught from our lips by waiting and listening spirits and\ncarried to \"the tent of the Great Spirit.\"\n\nIt was customary for them to frequent rivers with high wooded banks, or\nto seek ravines with precipitous sides where reverberations could be\nheard for miles, until they would die away in the distance. Here they\nwould stand for hours, shouting and listening as the echoing shouts\nleaped from shore to shore, or from hill to mountain and from mountain\nto valley--on and on into silence; always firmly believing that the\nwords were called from one to another of the faithful spirits until\nthey reached the ears of their loved ones and finally the Great Spirit\nhimself. This custom was practiced among the Senecas less than one\nhundred years ago, and there are now living men who have been present on\noccasions when nearly the whole tribe participated in an event of this\ncharacter. This belief was doubtless the origin of the \"death shout\" that\nIndian warriors are said to make when mortally wounded upon the battle\nfield. The cry is sent forth by the dying warrior to let the friends whom\nhe would meet in heaven know that he has started on the long journey.\n\n\nTHE HUNTER, Page 129.--This legend is one of the many relating the origin\nof the \"medicine compound.\" When the rejoicing over the return to life of\nKanistagia had ceased, the bear and fox took him aside and imparted the\nsecret of the mysterious compound which had mended his wounded head when\nonce the scalp had been restored. There has always been a great deal of\nmystery, and something of superstition, concerning, \"Indian medicines,\"\nand quack nostrums have been eagerly sought by people of these later\nyears simply because they were labeled with Indian names and ascribed to\nIndian origin. The fact is the Indians were poor doctors. They knew the\nvirtue of catnip, peppermint, pennyroyal, and a few simple herbs of like\nnature. They knew that lobelia would act as an emetic and throw poisons\nfrom the stomach. They found that a salve made from the inner bark of\nthe slippery elm and elder would heal wounds. While they had an infinite\nvariety of so-called \"medicines,\" their cures were generally effected\nthrough faith and good constitutions, aided by a liberal use of cold\nwater. They lived out of doors during the greater part of their lives,\nand to this, more than to their knowledge of cures, may be ascribed their\nlongevity.\n\nThe secret of their \"great medicine\" was imparted to but few, and the\nformula here given was told the author by one of the older Jimmersons, a\nresident of the Seneca Reservation: Each year before the coming of the\nfrosts a meeting of the chiefs was held in one of the largest wigwams.\nThose entitled to attend could not enter the wigwam before dark. Each one\nbrought with him several of the rarest herbs, roots, branches of trees or\nfruits of which he had knowledge, and often hundreds of miles had been\ntraversed in the search for some particularly scarce product. These,\nwith a few simple, fragrant herbs and a certain proportion of dry corn\nand beans, were pounded into a pulpy mass. Each one present assumed the\ncharacter of some bird or animal, and they often masqueraded to carry out\nthe role. No words passed between them, but a continual din was kept up\nas each one sounded the cries of the bird or animal he represented. One\nwould bark like a fox, another caw like a crow, a third would growl like\na bear, the fourth, fifth and sixth chatter like squirrels, raccoons or\nground-hogs. Another would scream like a hawk, while others would imitate\nthe wild turkey, geese, ducks, etc. They worked rapidly, for they must\ncomplete their task before the break of day. If one closed his eyes in\nsleep, it was a sure sign that the plague would come upon the tribe. At\ndaylight the compound was divided, carefully bestowed in panther skin\npouches, and carried away for future use.\n\nThe manner of administering it was as curious as its manufacture. Water\nwas dipped from a running stream in a wooden vessel. Care was taken to\ndip with the current--never against it. When the water in the vessel\nhad become absolutely quiet, three small portions of the powder were\ncarefully dropped on its surface in the form of a triangle. If the powder\nspread over the surface of the water, as dust often will, the patient\nhastily gulped down the dose and got well. If the powder sank to the\nbottom without spreading over the surface, the medicine man quickly\ndeparted with his potion and no further effort was made to save the\npatient's life.\n\n\nHIAWATHA, Page 137.--This version of Hiawatha follows as closely as it\nis possible to translate into English the legend as told by Governor\nBlacksnake (The Nephew). This aged Seneca chief was contemporaneous\nwith Cornplanter, and died December 26, 1859, at the age of 117 or 120\nyears. He was a very intelligent man, possessing all the nobler traits\nof his race and very few, if any, of the baser ones. He possessed the\nconfidence and esteem of Washington, and to the day of his death wore\nupon a thong around his neck a silver medal given him by Washington. He\nalso constantly carried a little leathern pouch containing a pass written\nand signed by Washington's own hand.\n\nIt is believed that many will be pleased to read in prose the beautiful\nstory that Longfellow has immortalized in verse, and into which he wove\nmany other curious legends to make the story complete. The form of\nthe tradition here given is believed to be the purest one extant. Its\nnarrator repeated it frequently to assemblages of the Senecas up to a few\nmonths prior to his death, and as here given follows the story precisely\nas it came from Blacksnake's own lips.\n\nThis legendary account of the formation of the confederacy of the\nIroquois differs materially from the historical account as given by\nCornplanter. The story of Hiawatha was believed by Cornplanter as\nimplicitly as any Christian believes the Bible. But he said this happened\nso many years ago, when everything was spiritual and supernatural, that\nthe Five Nations in time came to look upon it as something that was not\nbinding upon them. By degrees they drifted away and were estranged,\nand the council-fire combined and lighted by Hiawatha at that time was\npermitted to go out--that is, each tribe held its separate council.\nAfter the second reunion of the tribes (see note and legend \"The\nConfederation of the Iroquois\") the council was again established at\nOnondaga, and the great council-fire was relighted on the spot hallowed\nby the presence of their wisest leader. It is also interesting to note\nthat the councils of the Iroquois were held at Onondaga until January\n18, 1777. In the War of the Revolution the Mohawks, Onondagas, Senecas\nand Cayugas favored the English. The Mohawks went to Canada and never\nreturned, save as foes, till after peace was declared, and the other\ntribes named lent the English much assistance. The Oneidas and Tuscaroras\nremained neutral, but really aided the Colonists. On the 19th of January,\n1777, a delegation of Oneida Indians visited Fort Stanwix (now Rome),\nand told the commanding officer that the council-fire of the Iroquois at\nOnondaga had the previous day been extinguished for all time. What was\nprobably the oldest confederacy in the world died in the very infancy of\nAmerican Independence.\n\n\nTHE PEACEMAKER, Page 149.--The location of this \"City of Refuge\" will,\nof course, never be known, and all that can be said about it must be\nsimply speculation. It seems reasonable to suppose that it was located\nin a somewhat central position; where it would be most convenient to all\nthe tribes. From the fact that Genetaska and her lover went southward to\na river and took a canoe to complete their wedding trip, it is believed\nthat Kienuka was situated in one of the three valleys in the central\npart of the State of New York, drained respectively by the Tioughnioga,\nthe Chenango or the Unadilla rivers. The eloping couple are said to have\nbeen the progenitors of a very intelligent tribe on Chesapeake Bay,\nand probably reached their home by way of the Susquehanna River. Elias\nJohnson, a Tuscarora Indian, gives a somewhat different version of this\nlegend, and says that Kienuka was located four miles eastward of the\ninlet of the Niagara gorge at Lewiston. Although Mr. Johnson is possessed\nof much information as to the early legends of his people, it is probable\nthat he has erred in the location of the peace-home. The location he\npoints out would have been manifestly unfair to the Mohawks and Oneidas,\nand, indeed, it would have been very difficult of access to all the\ntribes, for even the Senecas (the westernmost tribe) would have had to\nmake a journey of nearly a hundred miles to have gotten within the sacred\nwalls.\n\nWherever it was, Kienuka was a veritable \"City of Refuge.\" Its queen was\nchosen as indicated in the legend and her word became law. There was\nabsolutely no appeal from it. With three or four retainers, who must be\nold women, she was supported by all the tribes, and great quantities of\nfood were stored at the retreat for the relief of those who came there in\ndistress. This must be ready at all times for those who might be in want.\nDisputes were not tolerated in the presence of the Peacemaker and would\nhave been punished by death if reported to the council. Every one who\nreached the charmed circle was safe from molestation until the Peacemaker\nhad delivered her sentence. If for some offence the refugee should be\nadjudged guilty of a crime punishable by death, he must be taken far from\nthe peace-home before the sentence could be executed, for the shedding\nof blood within its pale was strictly forbidden. For this reason, when\ndeserted by Genetaska, whose vows were forgotten in the love she bore\nthe young Oneida, Kienuka became the scene of bloodshed, and it was\nafterwards shunned, accursed and desolated.\n\nSix hundred years elapsed after the occurrence of this romantic incident\nbefore the office of Queen Peacemaker was again filled. The shock the\nIndians felt over the betrayal of such a high trust as that imposed\nin Genetaska led them to practically abolish the venerated custom. In\n1878 they bestowed the honor upon Caroline Parker, a sister of General\nEli S. Parker, a former member of General Grant's staff. She was a\nresident of the Tuscarora Reservation, and afterwards became the wife\nof John Mountpleasant. She is possessed of a comfortable home and a\nfortune of moderate size. She is a woman of education and refinement,\nand is in all respects an ideal Peacemaker. Her home is ever open to the\npoor, distressed and needy; her heart is moved by pity at every sign of\nsuffering; her sound judgment and fine sensibilities render her a most\nvaluable friend and counsellor.\n\n\nAN UNWELCOME VISITOR, Page 155.--This legend was as common among the\nIndians as are the parables of the Prodigal Son or the Good Samaritan\namong Christians. It was told to the young very impressively and often,\nthat they might learn by its teachings never to refuse welcome and\nshelter to a stranger, no matter what his condition, even though he be\ncovered with the awful pustules of smallpox, with which the visitor in\nthe legend is supposed to have been suffering. If they should refuse\nshelter, they might be, unawares, turning \"good medicine\" from the\ndoor. This is also one of the legends explaining the origin of the\nknowledge possessed by the Indians of the curative properties of plants\nand roots. Unfortunately the name of the benefactress of their race\nwho figures in the legend has been lost, but in all tribes and clans\nthere have been noted Sagawahs who were supposed to be her descendants.\nAs no one could enter the Happy Hunting-Grounds except through the\ngate of death, the Great Spirit's messenger, who had gone through much\nsuffering for the welfare of the red men, brought upon himself the \"fatal\ndisease\"--consumption--for which the Indians had no remedy.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber Notes\n\n\nPresumed typos were corrected. Hyphenation was standardized.","title":"The Legends of the Iroquois","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":37658}