Many years ago there lived a Chippewa warrior on the banks of Lake
Superior. His name was Wawanosh and he was renowed for his ancestry
and personal bravery. He had an only daughter, eighteen years old,
celebrated for her gentle virtues, her _slender_ form, her full
beaming hazel eyes, and her dark and flowing hair. Her hand was sought
by a young man of humble parentage, but a tall commanding form, a
manly step, and an eye beaming with the tropical fires of love and
youth. These were sufficient to attract the favorable notice of the
daughter, but did not satisfy the father, who sternly informed the
young man that before he could hope to mingle his humble blood with
that of so renowned a warrior he would have to go and make a name for
himself by enduring fatigue in the campaigns against enemies, by
taking scalps, and proving himself a successful hunter.
The intimidated lover departed, resolved to do a deed that should
render him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the attempt.
In a few days he succeeded in getting together a band of young men all
eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle. Armed with
bow and quiver, and ornamented with war-paint and feathers, they had
their war-dance, which was continued for two days and nights. Before
leaving with his companions the leader sought an interview with the
daughter of Wawanosh. He disclosed to her his firm intention never to
return unless he could establish his name as a warrior. He told her of
the pangs he had felt at her father's implied imputation of effeminacy
and cowardice. He averred that he never could be happy, either with or
without her, until he had proved to the whole tribe the strength of
his heart, which is the Indian term for courage. He repeated his
_protestations of inviolable attachment_, which she returned, and,
_pledging vows of mutual fidelity_, they parted.
She never saw him again. A warrior brought home the tidings that he
had received a fatal arrow in his breast after distinguishing himself
by the most heroic bravery. From that moment the young girl never
smiled again. She pined away by day and by night. Deaf to entreaty and
reproach, she would seek a sequestered spot, where she would sit under
a shady tree, and sing her mournful laments for hours together. A
small, beautiful bird, of a kind she had never seen, sat on her tree,
every day, singing until dark. Her fond imagination soon led her to
suppose it was the spirit of her lover, and her visits were repeated
with greater frequency. She passed her time in fasting and singing her
plaintive songs. Thus she pined away, until _the death she so
fervently desired_ came to her relief. After her death the bird was
never more seen, and it became a popular opinion that this mysterious
bird had flown away with her spirit. But bitter tears of regret fell
in the lodge of Wawanosh. Too late he _regretted his false pride_ and
his harsh treatment of the noble youth.