THERE was a brave Indian many moons before the white man came to the land
of his fathers who was the pride of all the men of the east. Though he
was young, yet among his people his word was law and his counsels were
listened to by the older chiefs with much attention. Three times had he
done his people service they could never forget. Once, the great heron,
that had preyed upon the children of the tribe for a long time, had
fallen pierced to the heart by the arrow from his bow. He had gone alone
and unarmed many days' journey without food to the mountain where dwelt
the witches, and brought from the medicine caves the roots that cured
his people of the plague. The third great service was when he had led a
band of warriors against their enemies over the mountains and returned
victorious. But on this journey the young warrior had seen a maiden
whom he loved, and he wanted her for his wigwam. The maiden dwelt among
the tribe that had felt the weight of the young chief's blow, and the
warfare between them prevented his buying her with the quills of the
wampum bird, as he could have done had she been one of his own people.
And yet, the young chief thought, unless he could light his wigwam with
the brightness of the maiden's eyes, his heart would no longer be brave
and he could not lead his young men to battle. For many moons he was in
hiding in the woods near the village of his foes, patiently watching for
the maiden whose eyes had softened his heart. He sang the praises of his
loved one so often to the birds as he crouched near their nests in the
branches of the trees that they took up his song and bore it with them in
their flight over I the plains and valleys. So often did the bear, the
fox and the beaver hear the praise of the maiden murmured by the young
chief in his sleep that they thought the forests had brought forth a new
flower of more radiant beauty than any they had seen.
At last the young chief's vigils and waiting were rewarded, for one day
the maiden wandered into the forest. With the calls of the song-birds and
by singing her praises he lured her far from her home, and then he seized
and bore her away toward the hunting-grounds and village of his people.
The maiden had been watched by the jealous eyes of a young brave who
was her suitor, but he was cowardly, and when he saw her borne swiftly
away on the shoulders of the dreaded chief, he dared not follow, but ran
swiftly back to the village to give the alarm. The braves placed him in
the hands of the women because he was a coward, and started quickly in
pursuit of the girl and her captor. All night they followed them over
the rugged mountains and through the dark forests. In the morning they
overtook them and were filled with rage when they saw that the maiden was
a willing captive, for she had given her heart to the strong young chief,
knowing that he was brave and loved her. To signify her willingness to go
with him she had plaited the braids of her hair about his neck, as was
the customary way among them to indicate a marriage. Enraged at their foe
for his daring and at the girl for deserting her people, the pursuing
warriors killed them both on the spot and left their bodies where they
fell--the great braids of the maiden's hair encircling her lover's neck.
From this spot sprang the violets; and the winds and birds carried the
seeds of the little flowers over all the world, into all countries where
men dare and maidens love, so that the Indians of all ages might know
that the Great Spirit would always raise a monument to true love and
bravery.