there was a man called ODSHEDOPH WAUCHEENTONGAH, or the Child of Strong
Desires, who had a wife and one son. After a day's travel he reached an
ample wood with his family, which was thought to be a suitable place to
encamp. The wife fixed the lodge, while the husband went out to hunt.
Early in the evening he returned with a deer. Being tired and thirsty he
asked his son to go to the river for some water. The son replied that it
was dark and he was afraid. He urged him to go, saying that his mother,
as well as himself, was tired, and the distance to the water was very
short. But no persuasion was of any avail. He refused to go. "Ah, my
son," said the father, at last, "if you are afraid to go to the river
you will never kill the Red Head."
The boy was deeply mortified by this observation. It seemed to call up
all his latent energies. He mused in silence. He refused to eat, and
made no reply when spoken to.
The next day he asked his mother to dress the skin of the deer, and make
it into moccasins for him, while he busied himself in preparing a bow
and arrows. As soon as these things were done, he left the lodge one
morning at sunrise, without saying a word to his father or mother. He
fired one of his arrows into the air, which fell westward. He took that
course, and at night coming to the spot where the arrow had fallen, was
rejoiced to find it piercing the heart of a deer. He refreshed himself
with a meal of the venison, and the next morning fired another arrow.
After travelling all day, he found it also in another deer. In this
manner he fired four arrows, and every evening found that he had killed
a deer. What was very singular, however, was, that he left the arrows
sticking in the carcasses, and passed on without withdrawing them. In
consequence of this, he had no arrow for the fifth day, and was in great
distress at night for the want of food. At last he threw himself upon
the ground in despair, concluding that he might as well perish there as
go farther. But he had not lain long before he heard a hollow, rumbling
noise, in the ground beneath him. He sprang up, and discovered at a
distance the figure of a human being, walking with a stick. He looked
attentively and saw that the figure was walking in a wide beaten path,
in a prairie, leading from a lodge to a lake. To his surprise this lodge
was at no great distance. He approached a little nearer and concealed
himself. He soon discovered that the figure was no other than that of
the terrible witch, Wok-on-kahtohn-zooeyah'pee-kah-haitchee, or the
little old woman who makes war. Her path to the lake was perfectly
smooth and solid, and the noise our adventurer had heard, was caused by
the striking of her walking staff upon the ground. The top of this staff
was decorated with a string of the toes and bills of birds of every
kind, who at every stroke of the stick, fluttered and sung their
various notes in concert.
She entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, which was entirely
composed of the scalps of women. Before folding it, she shook it several
times, and at every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of laughter, in
which the old hag joined. Nothing could have frightened him more than
this horrific exhibition. After laying by the cloak she came directly to
him. She informed him that she had known him from the time he left his
father's lodge, and watched his movements. She told him not to fear or
despair, for she would be his friend and protector. She invited him into
her lodge, and gave him a supper. During the repast, she inquired of him
his motives for visiting her. He related his history, stated the manner
in which he had been disgraced, and the difficulties he laboured under.
She cheered him with the assurance of her friendship, and told him he
would be a brave man yet.
She then commenced the exercise of her power upon him. His hair being
very short she took a large leaden comb, and after drawing it through
his hair several times, it became of a handsome feminine length. She
then proceeded to dress him as a female, furnishing him with the
necessary garments, and decorated his face with paints of the most
beautiful dye. She gave him a bowl of shining metal. She directed him
to put in his girdle a blade of scented sword-grass, and to proceed the
next morning to the banks of the lake, which was no other than that over
which the Red Head reigned. Now PAH-HAH-UNDOOTAH, or the Red Head, was a
most powerful sorcerer and the terror of all the country, living upon an
island in the centre of the lake.
She informed him that there would be many Indians on the island, who as
soon as they saw him use the shining bowl to drink with, would come and
solicit him to be their wife, and to take him over to the island. These
offers he was to refuse, and say that he had come a great distance to be
the wife of the Red Head, and that if the chief could not come for her
in his own canoe, she should return to her village. She said that as
soon as the Red Head heard of this, he would come for her in his own
canoe, in which she must embark. On reaching the island he must consent
to be his wife, and in the evening induce him to take a walk out of the
village, when he was to take the first opportunity to cut off his head
with the blade of grass. She also gave him general advice how he was to
conduct himself to sustain his assumed character of a woman. His fear
would scarcely permit him to accede to this plan, but the recollection
of his father's words and looks decided him.
Early in the morning, he left the witch's lodge, and took the hard
beaten path to the banks of the lake. He reached the water at a point
directly opposite the Red Head's village. It was a beautiful day. The
heavens were clear, and the sun shone out in the greatest effulgence. He
had not been long there, having sauntered along the beach, when he
displayed the glittering bowl, by dipping water from the lake. Very soon
a number of canoes came off from the island. The men admired his dress,
and were charmed with his beauty, and a great number made proposals of
marriage. These he promptly declined, agreeably to the concerted plan.
When the facts were reported to the Red Head, he ordered his canoe to be
put in the water by his chosen men, and crossed over to see this
wonderful girl. As he came near the shore, he saw that the ribs of the
sorcerer's canoe were formed of living rattlesnakes, whose heads pointed
outward to guard him from enemies. Our adventurer had no sooner stepped
into the canoe than they began to hiss and rattle, which put him in a
great fright. But the magician spoke to them, after which they became
pacified and quiet, and all at once they were at the landing upon the
island. The marriage immediately took place, and the bride made presents
of various valuables which had been furnished by the old witch.
As they were sitting in the lodge surrounded by friends and relatives,
the mother of the Red Head regarded the face of her new daughter-in-law
for a long time with fixed attention. From this scrutiny she was
convinced that this singular and hasty marriage augured no good to her
son. She drew her husband aside and disclosed to him her suspicions:
This can be no female, said she, the figure and manners, the
countenance, and more especially the expression of the eyes, are, beyond
a doubt, those of a man. Her husband immediately rejected her
suspicions, and rebuked her severely for the indignity offered to her
daughter-in-law. He became so angry, that seizing the first thing that
came to hand, which happened to be his pipe stem, he beat her
unmercifully. This act requiring to be explained, to the spectators, the
mock bride immediately rose up, and assuming an air of offended dignity,
told the Red Head that after receiving so gross an insult from his
relatives, he could not think of remaining with him as his wife, but
should forthwith return to his village and friends. He left the lodge
followed by the Red Head, and walked until he came upon the beach of
the island, near the spot where they had first landed. Red Head
entreated him to remain. He pressed him by every motive which he thought
might have weight, but they were all rejected. During this conference
they had seated themselves upon the ground, and Red Head, in great
affliction, reclined his head upon his fancied wife's lap. This was the
opportunity ardently sought for, and it was improved to the best
advantage. Every means was taken to lull him to sleep, and partly by a
soothing manner, and partly by a seeming compliance with his request,
the object was at last attained. Red Head fell into a sound sleep. Our
aspirant, for the glory of a brave man, then drew his blade of grass,
and drawing it once across the neck of the Red Head completely severed
the head from the body.
He immediately stripped off his dress, seized the bleeding head, and
plunging into the lake, swam safely over to the main shore. He had
scarcely reached it, when looking back he saw amid the darkness, the
torches of persons come out in search of the new-married couple. He
listened till they had found the headless body, and he heard their
piercing shrieks of sorrow, as he took his way to the lodge of his kind
adviser.
She received him with rejoicing. She admired his prudence, and told him
his bravery could never be questioned again. Lifting up the head, she
said he need only have brought the scalp. She cut off a small piece for
herself, and told him he might now return with the head, which would be
evidence of an achievement that would cause the Indians to respect him.
In your way home, she said, you will meet with but one difficulty.
MAUNKAH KEESH WOCCAUNG, or the Spirit of the Earth, requires an offering
from those who perform extraordinary achievements. As you walk along in
a prairie, there will be an earthquake. The earth will open and divide
the prairie in the middle. Take this partridge and throw it into the
opening, and instantly spring over it. All this happened precisely as it
had been foretold. He cast the partridge into the crevice and leapt over
it. He then proceeded without obstruction to a place near his village,
where he secreted his trophy. On entering the village he found his
parents had returned from the place of their spring encampment, and were
in great sorrow for their son, whom they supposed to be lost. One and
another of the young men had presented themselves to the disconsolate
parents, and said, "Look up, I am your son." Having been often deceived
in this manner, when their own son actually presented himself, they sat
with their heads down, and with their eyes nearly blinded with weeping.
It was some time before they could be prevailed upon to bestow a glance
upon him. It was still longer before they recognised him for their son;
when he recounted his adventures they believed him mad. The young men
laughed at him. He left the lodge and soon returned with his trophy. It
was soon recognised. All doubts of the reality of his adventures now
vanished. He was greeted with joy and placed among the first warriors of
the nation. He finally became a chief, and his family were ever after
respected and esteemed.
LEELINAU,
OR
THE LOST DAUGHTER.
AN ODJIBWA TALE.
Leelinau was the favourite daughter of an able hunter who lived near the
base of the lofty highlands called Kaug Wudjoo, on the shore of Lake
Superior. From her earliest youth she was observed to be pensive and
timid, and to spend much of her time in solitude and fasting. Whenever
she could leave her father's lodge she would fly to remote haunts and
recesses in the woods, or sit upon some high promontory of rock
overlooking the lake. In such places she was supposed to invoke her
guardian spirit. But amid all the sylvan haunts, so numerous in a highly
picturesque section of country, none had so great attractions for her
mind as a forest of pines, on the open shore, called Manitowok, or the
Sacred Grove. It was one of those consecrated places which are supposed
to be the residence of the PUK WUDJ ININEE, or little wild men of the
woods, and MISHEN IMOKINAKOG, or turtle-spirits, two classes of minor
spirits or fairies who love romantic scenes. Owing to this notion, it
was seldom visited by Indians, who attribute to these imaginary beings a
mischievous agency. And whenever they were compelled by stress of
weather to make a landing on this part of the coast, they never failed
to leave an offering of tobacco, or some other article.
To this fearful spot Leelinau had made her way at an early age,
gathering strange flowers or plants, which she would bring home to her
parents, and relate to them all the little incidents that had occurred
in her rambles. Although they discountenanced her visits to the place,
they were unable to restrain them, for they did not wish to lay any
violent commands upon her. Her attachment to the spot, therefore,
increased with her age. If she wished to propitiate her spirits to
procure pleasant dreams, or any other favour, she repaired to the
Manitowok. If her father remained out later than usual, and it was
feared he had been overwhelmed by the tempest, or met with some other
accident, she offered up her prayers at the Manitowok. It was there that
she fasted, supplicated, and strolled. And she spent so much of her
time there, that her parents began to suspect some bad spirit had
enticed her to its haunts, and thrown a charm around her which she was
unable to resist. This conjecture was confirmed by her mother (who had
secretly followed her) overhearing her repeat sentiments like these.
Spirit of the dancing leaves
Hear a throbbing heart that grieves,
Not for joys this world can give,
But the life that spirits live:
Spirit of the foaming billow,
Visit thou my nightly pillow,
Shedding o'er it silver dreams,
Of the mountain brooks and streams,
Sunny glades, and golden hours,
Such as suit thy buoyant powers:
Spirit of the starry night,
Pencil out thy fleecy light,
That my footprints still may lead
To the blush-let Miscodeed,[23]
Or the flower to passion true
Yielding free its carmine hue:
Spirit of the morning dawn,
Waft thy fleecy columns on,
Snowy white, or tender blue
Such as brave men love to view.
Spirit of the green wood plume
Shed around thy leaf perfume
Such as spring from buds of gold
Which thy tiny hands unfold.
Spirits hither quick repair,
Hear a maiden's evening prayer.
The effect of these visits was to render the daughter dissatisfied with
the realities of life, and to disqualify her for an active and useful
participation in its duties. She became melancholy and taciturn. She had
permitted her mind to dwell so much on imaginary scenes, that she at
last mistook them for realities, and sighed for an existence
inconsistent with the accidents of mortality. The consequence was, a
disrelish for all the ordinary sources of amusement and employment,
which engaged her equals in years. When the girls of the neighbouring
lodges assembled to play at the favourite game of pappus-e-kowaun,[24]
before the lodge door, Leelinau would sit vacantly by, or enter so
feebly into the spirit of the play, as to show plainly that it was
irksome to her. Again, in the evening, when the youths and girls formed
a social ring around the lodge, and the piepeendjigun[25] passed rapidly
from hand to hand, she either handed it along without attempting to
play, or if she played, it was with no effort to swell her count. Her
parents saw that she was a prey to some secret power, and attempted to
divert her in every way they could. They favoured the attentions paid to
her by a man much her senior in years, but who had the reputation of
great activity, and was the eldest son of a neighbouring chief. But she
could not be persuaded to listen to the proposal. Supposing her aversion
merely the result of natural timidity, her objections were not deemed of
a serious character; and in a state of society where matches are left
very much in the hands of the parents, they proceeded to make the
customary arrangements for the union. The young man was informed,
through his parents, that his offer had been favourably received. The
day was fixed for the marriage visit to the lodge, and the persons who
were to be present were invited. As the favourable expression of the
will of the parents had been explicitly given, and compliance was as
certainly expected, she saw no means of frustrating the object, but by a
firm declaration of her sentiments. She told her parents that she could
never consent to the match, and that her mind was unalterably made up.
It had been her custom to pass many of her hours in her favourite place
of retirement, under a low, broad-topped young pine, whose leaves
whispered in the wind. Thither she now went, and while leaning
pensively against its trunk, she fancied she heard articulate sounds.
Very soon they became more distinct, and appeared to address her.
Maiden, think me not a tree
But thine own dear lover free,
Tall and youthful in my bloom
With the bright green nodding plume.
Thou art leaning on my breast,
Lean for ever there, and rest!
Fly from man, that bloody race,
Pards, assassins, bold and base;
Quit their din, and false parade
For the quiet lonely shade.
Leave the windy birchen cot
For my own, light happy lot,
O'er thee I my veil will fling.
Light as beetle's silken wing;
I will breathe perfume of flowers,
O'er thy happy evening hours;
I will in my shell canoe
Waft thee o'er the waters blue;
I will deck thy mantle fold,
With the sun's last rays of gold.
Come, and on the mountain free
Rove a fairy bright with me.
Her fancy confirmed all she heard as the words of sober truth. She
needed nothing more to settle her purpose.
On the evening preceding the day fixed for her marriage, she dressed
herself in her best garments. She arranged her hair according to the
fashion of her tribe, and put on the ornaments she possessed. Thus
robed, she assumed an air of unwonted gayety, as she presented herself
before her parents. I am going, said she, to meet my little lover, the
chieftain of the green plume, who is waiting for me at the Spirit Grove;
and her countenance expressed a buoyant delight, which she had seldom
evinced. They were quite pleased with these evidences of restored
cheerfulness, supposing she was going to act some harmless freak. "I am
going," said she, to her mother, as she left the lodge, "from one who
has watched my infancy, and guarded my youth. Who has given me medicine
when I was sick, and prepared me food when I was well. I am going from a
father who has ranged the forest to procure the choicest skins for my
dress, and kept his lodge supplied with the best food of the chase. I am
going from a lodge which has been my shelter from the storms of winter,
and my shield from the heats of summer. Adieu! adieu!" she cried as she
skipped lightly over the plain.
So saying she hastened to the confines of the fairy haunted grove. As it
was her common resort, no alarm was entertained, and the parents
confidently waited her return with the sunset hour. But as she did not
arrive, they began to feel uneasy. Darkness approached, and no daughter
returned. They now lighted torches of pine wood, and proceeded to the
gloomy forest of pines, but were wholly unsuccessful in the search. They
called aloud upon her name, but the echo was their only reply. Next day
the search was renewed, but with no better success. Suns rose and set,
but they rose and set upon a bereaved father and mother, who were never
afterward permitted to behold a daughter whose manners and habits they
had not sufficiently guarded, and whose inclinations they had, in the
end, too violently thwarted.
One night a party of fishermen, who were spearing fish near the Spirit
Grove, descried something resembling a female figure standing on the
shore. As the evening was mild, and the waters calm, they cautiously
paddled their canoe ashore, but the slight ripple of the water excited
alarm. The figure fled, but they recognised, in the shape and dress, as
she ascended the bank, the lost daughter, and they saw the green plumes
of her lover waving over his forehead, as he glided lightly through the
forest of young pines.
FOOTNOTES:
[23] Claytonia Virginica.
[24] A game played with sticks and two small blocks on a string by
females.
[25] A game played with a piece of perforated leather and a bone.
PUCK WUDJ ININEE
AN ODJIBWA TALE.
There was a time when all the inhabitants of the earth had died,
excepting two helpless children, a baby boy, and a little girl. When
their parents died, these children were asleep. The little girl, who was
the elder, was the first to awake. She looked around her, but seeing
nobody besides her little brother, who lay asleep, she quietly resumed
her bed. At the end of ten days her brother moved without opening his
eyes. At the end of ten days, more he changed his position, lying on the
other side.
The girl soon grew up to woman's estate, but the boy increased in
stature very slowly. It was a long time before he could even creep. When
he was able to walk, his sister made him a little bow and arrows, and
suspended around his neck a small shell, saying, you shall be called
WA-DAIS-AIS-IMID, or He of the Little Shell. Every day he would go out
with his little bow shooting at the small birds. The first bird he
killed was a tomtit. His sister was highly pleased when he took it to
her. She carefully skinned and stuffed it, and put it away for him. The
next day he killed a red squirrel. His sister preserved this too. The
third day he killed a partridge (Peena), which she stuffed and set up.
After this, he acquired more courage, and would venture some distance
from home. His skill and success as a hunter daily increased, and he
killed the deer, bear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the
forest. In fine he became a great hunter.
He had now arrived to maturity of years, but remained a perfect infant
in stature. One day walking about he came to a small lake. It was in the
winter season. He saw a man on the ice killing beavers. He appeared to
be a giant. Comparing himself to this great man he appeared no bigger
than an insect. He seated himself on the shore, and watched his
movements. When the large man had killed many beavers, he put them on a
hand sled, which he had, and pursued his way home. When he saw him
retire, he followed him, and wielding his magic shell, cut off the tail
of one of the beavers, and ran home with his trophy. When the tall
stranger reached his lodge, with his sled load of beavers, he was
surprised to find the tail of one of them gone, for he had not observed
the movements of the little hero of the shell.
The next day WA-DAIS-AIS-IMID, went to the same lake. The man had
already fixed his load of beavers on his _odaw'bon_ or sled, and
commenced his return. But he nimbly ran forward, and overtaking him,
succeeded, by the same means, in securing another of the beaver's tails.
When the man saw that he had lost another of this most esteemed part of
the animal, he was very angry. I wonder, said he, what dog it is, that
has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I would make his flesh quiver at
the point of my lance. Next day he pursued his hunting at the beaver dam
near the lake, and was followed again by the little man of the shell. On
this occasion the hunter had used so much expedition, that he had
accomplished his object, and nearly reached his home, before our tiny
hero could overtake him. He nimbly drew his shell and cut off another
beaver's tail. In all these pranks, he availed himself of his power of
invisibility, and thus escaped observation. When the man saw that the
trick had been so often repeated, his anger was greater than ever. He
gave vent to his feelings in words. He looked carefully around to see
whether he could discover any tracks. But he could find none. His
unknown visiter had stepped so lightly as to leave no track.
Next day he resolved to disappoint him by going to his beaver pond very
early. When WA-DAIS-AIS-IMID reached the place, he found the fresh
traces of his work, but he had already returned. He followed his tracks,
but failed to overtake him. When he came in sight of the lodge the
stranger was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers. As he
stood looking at him, he thought, I will let him see me. Presently the
man, who proved to be no less a personage than Manabozho, looked up and
saw him. After regarding him with attention, "who are you, little man,"
said Manabozho. "I have a mind to kill you." The little hero of the
shell replied, "If you were to try to kill me you could not do it."