"The world is getting very wicked, Sakechak."
"I know it," answered the hunter.
"I hear no longer the voices of men supplicating me for
favours--soliciting my lightnings to cool the air, nor my rains to
refresh the earth, nor my suns to ripen the harvest. They no longer
thank me for the fat bears, and mooses, and deer, and bisons, which I
send to their hunting-grounds, nor the salmon, and other juicy fish,
which I bid to their waters, nor the corn which I command to grow tall
and sweet for their use, nor the rich grapes which I make to bow their
vines to the earth. I must sweep, and wash, and purify, the earth; I
must destroy all living creatures from off the face of it."
Then Sakechak said, "What have I done, Master of Life! that I should
be involved in this general destruction? Have I not offered thee the
best of my spoils?--Have I ever neglected to solicit thy favour upon
my labours, or to thank thee for the rich gifts thou hast showered
upon me and my family--health, plenty, and cheerful hearts?"
The Master answered, "No, Sakechak, thou hast indeed been a good
servant; it hath never been my purpose to destroy thee; I will except
thee from the general doom: but I will thee to assist in the
destruction of thy brethren. Listen!
"Go now, and cut thee a young hemlock, from the spot which my
lightnings struck in the last Fever-Moon. Let it be not more than ten
seasons old--straight, well-grown, a finely-proportioned trunk, with
thriving branches, full of cones, and with leaves of dark green. Knock
off the cones, and bring them, together with the trunk and leaves, to
the bottom of the hill Wecheganawaw, when the sun of the morning is
tinging the eastern clouds with his brightness. Burn them in a fire
made of the dry branches of the oak, kindled with the straw of the
wild rice. When the heap is completely reduced to ashes, take the
ashes, and strew them in a circle around the hill Wecheganawaw.
Nothing need be gathered within the circle of the hill, for the living
creatures will, of themselves, retreat to it for safety; and, when
this is done, take the trunk of the hemlock, divested of its branches,
and strike it into the earth, at the spot where the large tuft of
green grass is seen growing on the dry and barren hill. There lies the
great fountain of the waters; and when the staff is struck into the
earth, the fountain shall burst forth, and the earth be swept, and
washed, and purified, by the great deluge that shall overwhelm it.
Sakechak and his family shall alone, of all the inhabitants of the
earth, be saved, and the creatures he assembles around him on the
little hill Wecheganawaw be alone those exempted from the all-sweeping
destruction."
So saying, the Great Being retreated from the vision of the sleeping
hunter, who awoke with the dream fixed on his mind, and, in obedience
to the orders he had received, prepared to do his part towards its
accomplishment. He went to the spot which the Master had pointed
out--the place which the lightnings had stricken in the last
Fever-Moon--and he cut from the grove of hemlocks a young tree, full
of cones, with a finely shaped trunk, and with thriving branches and
dark green leaves. This trunk, with the leaves, he brought to the hill
Wecheganawaw, when the sun of the morning was tinging the eastern
clouds with his brightness. He burnt them all, save the trunk, in a
fire made of the dry branches of the oak, kindled with the straw of
the wild rice. When the heap was completely reduced to ashes,
he took the ashes and strewed them in a circle around the hill
Wecheganawaw.--Then he took the staff, or trunk of the hemlock
divested of its branches, and struck it deep into the earth, at the
spot on the hill where the large tuft of green grass sprung up amidst
barrenness. When he did so, the great fountain was broken up, and the
waters burst out in a mighty volume. Slowly and gradually the element
began to cover the earth, while the hunter and his family looked on.
Now the low grounds appeared but as they appear in the season of
showers, here a little water, and there a little water; soon they
became one vast sheet. Now a little hill sunk from view, then the tops
of the trees disappeared; again a tall hill was observed to be hiding
its summits in the overmastering water. At length the waves rose so
high that Sakechak could see nothing more: he stood as it were in a
well. The waters were piled up on every side of him, restrained from
harming him, or his, by the magic belt of hemlock ashes. While the
waters had been rising, the animals in the vicinity of the hill had
been running to it for shelter; and there now stood gathered around
him a pair of each of the different species of animals.
"Sakechak!" said a voice, which the hunter knew to be that of him he
had heard in his sleep.