MANY, many moons ago there lived an old man alone in his lodge beside a
frozen stream in the great forest beyond the wide waters of the northern
lakes. His locks were long and white with age and frost. The fur of
the bear and cunning beaver covered his body, but none too warmly, for
snow and ice were everywhere. Over all the earth there was winter. The
winds came down the bleak mountain sides and wildly hurried through the
branches of the trees and bushes, looking for song-birds that they might
chill to the heart. Even the evil spirits shivered in the desolation and
sought to dig for themselves sheltering caves in the deep snow and ice.
Lonely and halting the old man went abroad in the forest, looking for the
broken branches that had fallen from the trees that he might keep alive
the fire in his lodge. Few fagots could he find, and in despair he again
sought his lodge, where, hovering over the fading embers on his hearth,
he cried in anguish to the Great Spirit that he might not perish.
Then the wind moaned in the tree-tops and circling through the forests
came back and blew aside the skin of the great bear hanging over his
lodge door, and, lo! a beautiful maiden entered. Her cheeks were red like
the leaves of wild roses; her eyes were large and glowed like the eyes
of the fawn at night; her hair was black as the wing of the crow, and so
long that it brushed the ground as she walked. Her hands were clad in
willow buds; over her head was a crown of flowers; her mantle was woven
with sweet grasses and ferns, and her moccasins were white lilies, laced
and embroidered with the petals of honeysuckle. When she breathed, the
air of the lodge became warm, and the cold winds rushed back in affright.
The old man looked in wonder at his strange visitor, and then opened
his lips and said: "My daughter, thou art welcome to the poor shelter
of my cheerless lodge. It is lonely and desolate, and the Great Spirit
has covered the fallen branches of the trees with his death-cloth that I
may not find them and light again the fire of my lodge. Come, sit thou
here and tell me whom thou art that thou dost wander like the deer in
the forest. Tell me also of thy country and what people gave thee such
beauty and grace, and then I, the desolate Manito, will tell thee of my
victories till thou dost weary of my greatness."
The maiden smiled, and the sunlight streamed forth and shot its warmth
through the roof of the lodge. The desolate Manito filled his pipe of
friendship, and when he had drawn of the fragrant tobacco, he said: "When
I, the Manito, blow the breath from my nostrils the waters of the river
stand still, the great waves on the lakes rest, and the murmurings of the
streams die away in silence."
Then the maiden said: "The Manito is great and strong and the waters know
the touch of his breath; but when I, the loved of the birds, smile, the
flowers spring up over all the forest and the plains are covered with a
carpet of green."
Then said the Manito: "I shake my locks, and lo! the earth is wrapped in
the death-cloth of snow."
Then the maiden replied: "I breathe into the air and the warm rains
come and the death-cloth vanishes like the darkness when the great fire
awakens from its bed in the morning."
Then the Manito said: "When I walk about, the leaves die on the trees and
fall to the ground; the birds desert their nests and fly away beyond the
lakes; the animals bury themselves in holes in the earth or in caves in
the mountain side, and the winds wail the death-chant over all the land."
"Ah, great is the Manito," said the maiden, "and his mighty name is
feared by all living things in the land. 'Great is the Manito,' says all
the world, and his fame has spread among the children of the Great Spirit
till they crouch with fear and say: 'Mighty and cruel is the Manito!
Terrible is the Manito, and more cruel and cunning in his tortures than
the red men. His strength is greater than the strength of the giant trees
of the forest, for does he not rend them with his mighty hands?' But when
I, the gentle maiden, walk forth, the trees cover with many leaves the
nakedness which thou, the great Manito, hath caused; the birds sing in
the branches and build again the nests from which thou drivest them; the
animals seek their mates and rear their young; the wind sings soft and
pleasant music to the ears of the red man, while his wives and papooses
sport in the warm sunshine near his wigwam."
As the maiden spoke, the lodge grew warm and bright, but the boasting
Manito heeded it not, for his head drooped forward on his breast, and he
slept.
Then the maiden passed her hands above the Manito's head and he began to
grow small. The blue birds came and filled the trees about the lodge and
sang, while the rivers lifted up their waters and boiled with freedom.
Streams of water poured from the Manito's mouth, and the garments that
covered his shrunken and vanishing form turned into bright and glistening
leaves.
Then the maiden knelt upon the ground and took from her bosom most
precious and beautiful rose-white flowers. She hid them under the leaves
all about her, and as she breathed with love upon them, said:
"I give to you, oh! precious jewels, all my virtues and my sweetest
breath, and men shall pluck thee with bowed head and on bended knee."
Then the maiden moved over the plains, the hills and the mountains. The
birds and the winds sang together in joyous chorus, while the flowers
lifted up their heads and greeted her with fragrance.
Wherever she stepped, and nowhere else, grows the arbutus.