entertainer. When he looked upon him, he had the icy visage of
Peboan.[16] Streams began to flow from his eyes. As the sun increased,
he grew less and less in stature, and anon had melted completely away.
Nothing remained on the place of his lodge fire but the miskodeed,[17] a
small white flower, with a pink border, which is one of the earliest
species of Northern plants.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Winter.
[17] The Claytonia Virginica.
THE RED LOVER.
A CHIPPEWA TALE.
Many years ago there lived a warrior on the banks of Lake Superior,
whose name was Wawanosh. He was the chief of an ancient family of his
tribe, who had preserved the line of chieftainship unbroken from a
remote time, and he consequently cherished a pride of ancestry. To the
reputation of birth he added the advantages of a tall and commanding
person, and the dazzling qualities of personal strength, courage, and
activity. His bow was noted for its size, and the feats he had performed
with it. His counsel was sought as much as his strength was feared, so
that he came to be equally regarded as a hunter, a warrior, and a
counsellor. He had now passed the meridian of his days, and the term
AKKEE-WAIZEE, i. e., one who has been long on the earth, was applied to
him.
Such was Wawanosh, to whom the united voice of the nation awarded the
first place in their esteem, and the highest authority in council. But
distinction, it seems, is apt to engender haughtiness in the hunter
state as well as civilized life. Pride was his ruling passion, and he
clung with tenacity to the distinctions which he regarded as an
inheritance.
Wawanosh had an only daughter, who had now lived to witness the budding
of the leaves of the eighteenth spring. Her father was not more
celebrated for his deeds of strength than she for her gentle virtues,
her slender form, her full beaming hazel eyes, and her dark and flowing
hair.
"And through her cheek
The blush would make its way, and all but speak.
The sunborn blood suffused her neck, and threw
O'er her clear brown skin a lucid hue,
Like coral reddening through the darken'd wave,
Which draws the diver to the crimson cave."
Her hand was sought by a young man of humble parentage, who had no other
merits to recommend him but such as might arise from a tall and
commanding person, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the tropical
fires of youth and love. These were sufficient to attract the favourable
notice of the daughter, but were by no means satisfactory to the father,
who sought an alliance more suitable to the rank and the high
pretensions of his family.
"Listen to me, young man," he replied to the trembling hunter, who had
sought the interview, "and be attentive to my words. You ask me to
bestow upon you my daughter, the chief solace of my age, and my choicest
gift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this boon, who
were as young, as active, and as ardent as yourself. Some of these
persons have had better claims to become my son-in-law. Have you
reflected upon the deeds which have raised me in authority, and made my
name known to the enemies of my nation? Where is there a chief who is
not proud to be considered the friend of Wawanosh? Where, in all the
land, is there a hunter who has excelled Wawanosh? Where is there a
warrior who can boast the taking of an equal number of scalps? Besides,
have you not heard that my fathers came from the East, bearing the marks
of chieftaincy?
"And what, young man, have _you_ to boast? Have _you_ ever met your
enemies in the field of battle? Have _you_ ever brought home a trophy of
victory? Have _you_ ever proved your fortitude by suffering protracted
pain, enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great fatigue? Is your
_name_ known beyond the humble limits of your native village? Go, then,
young man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none but the brave that
can ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of Wawanosh. Think
not my warrior blood shall mingle with the humble mark of the
Awasees[18]--fit totem for fishermen!"
The intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that should
render him worthy of the daughter of Wawanosh, or die in the attempt. He
called together several of his young companions and equals in years, and
imparted to them his design of conducting an expedition against the
enemy, and requested their assistance. Several embraced the proposal
immediately; others were soon brought to acquiesce; and, before ten suns
set, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party of young warriors,
all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle. Each
warrior was armed, according to the custom of the period, with a bow and
a quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper. He carried a sack or
wallet, provided with a small quantity of parched and pounded corn,
mixed with pemmican or maple sugar. He was furnished with a PUGGAMAUGUN,
or war-club of hard wood, fastened to a girdle of deer skin, and a stone
or copper knife. In addition to this, some carried the ancient
_shemagun_, or lance, a smooth pole about a fathom in length, with a
javelin of flint, firmly tied on with deer's sinews. Thus equipped, and
each warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy, and ornamented with
appropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot appointed for the
war-dance.
A level, grassy plain extended for nearly a mile from the lodge of
Wawanosh along the lake shore. Lodges of bark were promiscuously
interspersed over this green, and here and there a cluster of trees, or
a solitary tall pine. A belt of yellow sand skirted the lake shore in
front, and a tall, thick forest formed the background. In the centre of
this plain stood a high shattered pine, with a clear space about,
renowned as the scene of the war-dance time out of mind. Here the youths
assembled, with their tall and graceful leader, distinguished by the
feathers of the bald eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright fire of
pine wood blazed upon the green. He led his men several times around
this fire, with a measured and solemn chant. Then suddenly halting, the
war-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately began. An old man,
sitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum, while several
of the elder warriors shook their rattles, and "ever and anon" made the
woods re-echo with their yells. Each warrior chanted alternately the
verse of a song, all the rest joining in chorus.
FIRST VOICE.
The eagles scream on high,
They whet their forked beaks:
Raise--raise the battle cry,
'Tis fame our leader seeks.
SECOND VOICE.
'Tis fame my soul desires,
By deeds of martial strife:
Give--give me warlike fires,
Or take--ah take my life.
THIRD VOICE.
The deer a while may go
Unhunted o'er the heath,
For now I seek a nobler foe,
And prize a nobler death.
FOURTH VOICE.
Lance and quiver, club and bow,
Now alone attract my sight;
I will go where warriors go,
I will fight where warriors fight.
Thus they continued the dance, with short intermissions, for two
successive days and nights. Sometimes the village seer, who led the
ceremony, would embrace the occasion of a pause to address them with
words of encouragement.
In the dreamy hours of night
I beheld the bloody fight.
As reclined upon my bed,
Holy visions crowned my head;
High our guardian spirit bright
Stood above the dreadful fight;
Beaming eye and dazzling brand
Gleamed upon my chosen band,
While a black and awful shade
O'er the faithless foeman spread.
Soon they wavered, sunk, and fled,
Leaving wounded, dying, dead,
While my gallant warriors high
Waved their trophies in the sky.
At every recurrence of this kind, new energy was infused into the dance,
and the warriors renewed their gesticulations, and stamped upon the
ground as if they were trampling their enemies under their feet.
FIFTH VOICE.
Now my heart with valour burns,
I my lance in fury shake;
He who falters, he who turns,
Give him fagot, fire, and stake.
SIXTH VOICE.
See my visage scarred and red--
See my brows with trophies bright--
Such the brows that warriors dread,
Such the trophies of the fight.
At length the prophet uttered his final prediction of success; and the
warriors dropping off, one by one, from the fire, each sought his way to
the place appointed for the rendezvous, on the confines of the enemy's
country. Their leader was not among the last to depart, but he did not
leave the village without seeking an interview with the daughter of
Wawanosh. He disclosed to her his firm determination never to return,
unless he could establish his name as a warrior. He told her of the
pangs he had felt at the bitter reproaches of her father, and declared
that his soul spurned the imputation of effeminacy and cowardice implied
by his language. 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 said that his dreams had
not been propitious, but he should not cease to invoke the power of the
Great Spirit. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment,
which she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they parted.
All she ever heard from her lover after this interview was brought by
one of his successful warriors, who said that he had distinguished
himself by the most heroic bravery, but, at the close of the fight, he
had received an arrow in his breast. The enemy fled, leaving many of
their warriors dead on the field. On examining the wound, it was
perceived to be beyond their power to cure. They carried him towards
home a day's journey, but he languished and expired in the arms of his
friends. From the moment the report was received, no smile was ever seen
in the once happy lodge of Wawanosh. His daughter pined away by day and
by night. Tears and sighs, sorrow and lamentation, were heard
continually. Nothing could restore her lost serenity of mind.
Persuasives and reproofs were alternately employed, but employed in
vain. She would seek a sequestered spot, where she would sit under a
shady tree, and sing her mournful laments for hours together.
It was not long before a small bird of beautiful plumage flew upon the
tree under which she usually sat, and with its sweet and artless notes
seemed to respond to her voice. It was a bird of strange character, such
as had not before been observed. It came every day and sang, remaining
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 that death she so fervently desired
came to her relief. After her decease 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.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] Catfish.
IAMO;
OR,
THE UNDYING HEAD.
AN OTTOWA TALE.
In a remote part of the north lived a man and his only sister, who had
never seen human being. Seldom, if ever, had the man any cause to go
from home; for, as his wants demanded food, he had only to go a little
distance from the lodge, and there, in some particular spot, place his
arrows, with their barbs in the ground. Telling his sister where they
had been placed, every morning she would go in search, and never fail of
finding each struck through the heart of a deer. She had then only to
drag them into the lodge and prepare their food. Thus she lived till she
attained womanhood, when one day her brother, whose name was Iamo, said
to her, "Sister, the time is near at hand when you will be ill. Listen
to my advice. If you do not, it will probably be the cause of my death.
Take the implements with which we kindle our fires. Go some distance
from our lodge, and build a separate fire. When you are in want of food,
I will tell you where to find it. You must cook for yourself, and I will
for myself. When you are ill, do not attempt to come near the lodge, or
bring any of the utensils you use. Be sure always to fasten to your belt
the implements you need, for you do not know when the time will come. As
for myself, I must do the best I can." His sister promised to obey him
in all he had said.
Shortly after, her brother had cause to go from home. She was alone in
her lodge, combing her hair. She had just untied the belt to which the
implements were fastened, when suddenly the event, to which her brother
had alluded, occurred. She ran out of the lodge, but in her haste forgot
the belt. Afraid to return, she stood for some time thinking. Finally
she decided to enter the lodge and get it. For, thought she, my brother
is not at home, and I will stay but a moment to catch hold of it. She
went back. Running in suddenly, she caught hold of it, and was coming
out when her brother came in sight. He knew what was the matter. "Oh,"
he said, "did I not tell you to take care? But now you have killed me."
She was going on her way, but her brother said to her, "What can you do
there now? the accident has happened. Go in, and stay where you have
always stayed. And what will become of you? You have killed me."
He then laid aside his hunting dress and accoutrements, and soon after
both his feet began to inflame and turn black, so that he could not
move. Still he directed his sister where to place the arrows, that she
might always have food. The inflammation continued to increase, and had
now reached his first rib; and he said, "Sister, my end is near. You
must do as I tell you. You see my medicine-sack, and my war-club tied to
it. It contains all my medicines, and my war-plumes, and my paints of
all colours. As soon as the inflammation reaches my breast, you will
take my war-club. It has a sharp point, and you will cut off my head.
When it is free from my body, take it, place its neck in the sack, which
you must open at one end. Then hang it up in its former place. Do not
forget my bow and arrows. One of the last you will take to procure food.
The remainder tie to my sack, and then hang it up, so that I can look
towards the door. Now and then I will speak to you, but not often." His
sister again promised to obey.
In a little time his breast was affected. "Now," said he, "take the club
and strike off my head." She was afraid, but he told her to muster
courage. "_Strike_" said he, and a smile was on his face. Mustering all
her courage, she gave the blow and cut off the head. "Now," said the
head, "place me where I told you." And fearfully she obeyed it in all
its commands. Retaining its animation, it looked around the lodge as
usual, and it would command its sister to go to such places as it
thought would procure for her the flesh of different animals she needed.
One day the head said, "The time is not distant when I shall be freed
from this situation, but I shall have to undergo many sore evils. So the
Superior Manito decrees, and I must bear all patiently." In this
situation we must leave the head.
In a certain part of the country was a village inhabited by a numerous
and warlike band of Indians. In this village was a family of ten young
men--brothers. It was in the spring of the year that the youngest of
these blackened his face and fasted. His dreams were propitious. Having
ended his fast, he sent secretly for his brothers at night, so that none
in the village could overhear or find out the direction they intended to
go. Though their drum was heard, yet that was a common occurrence.
Having ended the usual formalities, he told them how favourable his
dreams were, and that he had called them together to know if they would
accompany him in a war excursion. They all answered they would. The
third brother from the eldest, noted for his oddities, coming up with
his war-club when his brother had ceased speaking, jumped up. "Yes,"
said he, "_I_ will go, and this will be the way I will treat those we
are going to fight;" and he struck the post in the centre of the lodge,
and gave a yell. The others spoke to him, saying, "Slow, slow,
Mudjikewis, when you are in other people's lodges." So he sat down.
Then, in turn, they took the drum, and sang their songs, and closed with
a feast. The youngest told them not to whisper their intention even to
their wives, but secretly to prepare for their journey. They all
promised obedience, and Mudjikewis was the first to say so.
The time for their departure drew near. Word was given to assemble on a
certain night, when they would depart immediately. Mudjikewis was loud
in his demands for his moccasins. Several times his wife asked him the
reason. "Besides," said she, "you have a good pair on." "Quick, quick,"
he said, "since you must know, we are going on a war excursion. So be
quick." He thus revealed the secret. That night they met and started.
The snow was on the ground, and they travelled all night, lest others
should follow them. When it was daylight, the leader took snow and made
a ball of it; then tossing it into the air, he said, "It was in this way
I saw snow fall in a dream, so that I could not be tracked." And he told
them to keep close to each other for fear of losing themselves, as the
snow began to fall in very large flakes. Near as they walked, it was
with difficulty they could see each other. The snow continued falling
all that day and the following night. So it was impossible to track
them.
They had now walked for several days, and Mudjikewis was always in the
rear. One day, running suddenly forward, he gave the _Saw-saw-quan_,[19]
and struck a tree with his war-club, which broke into pieces as if
struck with lightning. "Brothers," said he, "this will be the way I will
serve those whom we are going to fight." The leader answered, "Slow,
slow, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be thought of so
lightly." Again he fell back and thought to himself, "What, what: Who
can this be he is leading us to?" He felt fearful, and was silent. Day
after day they travelled on, till they came to an extensive plain, on
the borders of which human bones were bleaching in the sun. The leader
spoke. "They are the bones of those who have gone before us. None has
ever yet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate." Again Mudjikewis
became restless, and, running forward, gave the accustomed yell.
Advancing to a large rock which stood above the ground, he struck it,
and it fell to pieces. "See, brothers," said he, "thus will I treat
those whom we are going to fight." "Still, still," once more said the
leader; "he to whom I am leading you is not to be compared to that
rock."
Mudjikewis fell back quite thoughtful, saying to himself, "I wonder who
this can be that he is going to attack." And he was afraid. Still they
continued to see the remains of former warriors, who had been to the
place where _they_ were now going, some of whom had retreated as far
back as the place where they first saw the bones, beyond which no one
had ever escaped. At last they came to a piece of rising ground, from
which they plainly distinguished, sleeping on a distant mountain, a
mammoth bear.