have wrestled manfully. To-morrow will be the seventh day of your
fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and as it is
the last day of trial, you will prevail. I know this, and now tell you
what you must do to benefit your family and your tribe. To-morrow," he
repeated, "I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the last time; and,
as soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off my garments
and throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it soft, and
bury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body in the
earth, and do not disturb it, but come occasionally to visit the place,
to see whether I have come to life, and be careful never to let the
grass or weeds grow on my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh earth.
If you follow my instructions, you will accomplish your object of doing
good to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I now teach
you." He then shook him by the hand and disappeared.
In the morning the youth's father came with some slight refreshments,
saying, "My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will
favour you, he will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted
food, and you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not
require that." "My father," replied the youth, "wait till the sun goes
down. I have a particular reason for extending my fast to that hour."
"Very well," said the old man, "I shall wait till the hour arrives, and
you feel inclined to eat."
At the usual hour of the day the sky-visiter returned, and the trial of
strength was renewed. Although the youth had not availed himself of his
father's offer of food, he felt that new strength had been given to him,
and that exertion had renewed his strength and fortified his courage. He
grasped his angelic antagonist with supernatural strength, threw him
down, took from him his beautiful garments and plume, and finding him
dead, immediately buried him on the spot, taking all the precautions he
had been told of, and being very confident, at the same time, that his
friend would again come to life. He then returned to his father's lodge,
and partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him. But he
never for a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited
it throughout the spring, and weeded out the grass, and kept the ground
in a soft and pliant state. Very soon he saw the tops of the green
plumes coming through the ground; and the more careful he was to obey
his instructions in keeping the ground in order, the faster they grew.
He was, however, careful to conceal the exploit from his father. Days
and weeks had passed in this way. The summer was now drawing towards a
close, when one day, after a long absence in hunting, Wunzh invited his
father to follow him to the quiet and lonesome spot of his former fast.
The lodge had been removed, and the weeds kept from growing on the
circle where it stood, but in its place stood a tall and graceful
plant, with bright-coloured silken hair, surmounted with nodding plumes
and stately leaves, and golden clusters on each side. "It is my friend,"
shouted the lad; "it is the friend of all mankind. It is
_Mondawmin_.[22] We need no longer rely on hunting alone; for, as long
as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the ground itself will give
us a living." He then pulled an ear. "See, my father," said he, "this is
what I fasted for. The Great Spirit has listened to my voice, and sent
us something new,[23] and henceforth our people will not alone depend
upon the chase or upon the waters."
He then communicated to his father the instructions given him by the
stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he had
pulled off the garments in his wrestling; and having done this, directed
him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin became
brown, while all the milk was retained in the grain. The whole family
then united in a feast on the newly-grown ears, expressing gratitude to
the Merciful Spirit who gave it. So corn came into the world, and has
ever since been preserved.
FOOTNOTES:
[22] The Algic name for corn. The word is manifestly a trinary compound
from _monedo_, spirit; _min_, a grain or berry; and _iaw_, the verb
substantive.
[23] The Zea mays, it will be recollected, is indigenous to America, and
was unknown in Europe before 1495.
PEETA KWAY;
OR,
THE TEMPEST.
AN ALGIC TALE.
There once lived a woman called Monedo Kway[24] on the sand mountains
called "the Sleeping Bear" of Lake Michigan, who had a daughter as
beautiful as she was modest and discreet. Everybody spoke of the beauty
of this daughter. She was so handsome that her mother feared she would
be carried off, and to prevent it she put her in a box on the lake,
which was tied by a long string to a stake on the shore. Every morning
the mother pulled the box ashore, and combed her daughter's long,
shining hair, gave her food, and then put her out again on the lake.
One day a handsome young man chanced to come to the spot at the moment
she was receiving her morning's attentions from her mother. He was
struck with her beauty, and immediately went home and told his feelings
to his uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician. "My
nephew," replied the old man, "go to the mother's lodge, and sit down in
a modest manner, without saying a word. You need not ask her the
question. But whatever _you think_ she will understand, and what _she
thinks_ in answer you will also understand." The young man did so. He
sat down, with his head dropped in a thoughtful manner, without uttering
a word. He then thought, "I wish she would give me her daughter." Very
soon he understood the mother's thoughts in reply. "Give you my
daughter?" thought she; "_you_! No, indeed, my daughter shall never
marry _you_." The young man went away and reported the result to his
uncle. "Woman without good sense," said he, "who is she keeping her
daughter for? Does she think she will marry the Mudjikewis?[25] Proud
heart! we will try her magic skill, and see whether she can withstand
our power." The pride and haughtiness of the mother was talked of by the
spirits living on that part of the lake. They met together and
determined to exert their power in humbling her. For this purpose they
resolved to raise a great storm on the lake. The water began to toss and
roar, and the tempest became so severe, that the string broke, and the
box floated off through the straits down Lake Huron, and struck against
the sandy shores at its outlet. The place where it struck was near the
lodge of a superannuated old spirit called Ishkwon Daimeka, or the
keeper of the gate of the lakes. He opened the box and let out the
beautiful daughter, took her into his lodge, and married her.
When the mother found that her daughter had been blown off by the storm,
she raised very loud cries and lamented exceedingly. This she continued
to do for a long time, and would not be comforted. At length, after two
or three years, the spirits had pity on her, and determined to raise
another storm and bring her back. It was even a greater storm than the
first; and when it began to wash away the ground and encroach on the
lodge of Ishkwon Daimeka, she leaped into the box, and the waves carried
her back to the very spot of her mother's lodge on the shore. Monedo
Equa was overjoyed; but when she opened the box, she found that her
daughter's beauty had almost all departed. However, she loved her still
because she was her daughter, and now thought of the young man who had
made her the offer of marriage. She sent a formal message to him, but he
had altered his mind, for he knew that she had been the wife of another.
"_I_ marry your daughter?" said he; "_your_ daughter! No, indeed! I
shall never marry her."
The storm that brought her back was so strong and powerful, that it tore
away a large part of the shore of the lake, and swept off Ishkwon
Daimeka's lodge, the fragments of which, lodging in the straits, formed
those beautiful islands which are scattered in the St. Clair and Detroit
rivers. The old man himself was drowned, and his bones are buried under
them. They heard him singing as he was driven off on a portion of his
lodge; some fragments of his words are still repeated, which show what
his thoughts were in the midst of his overthrow.
ISHKWON DAIMEKA'S LAMENT.
The waves, the waves, the angry waves,
Have borne my bless'd away,
And cast me forth all reft and lone,
With wrecks of wood and clay.
My power is gone, my guardian dead,
My loved, my cherish'd lost,
And every dream of pleasure fled,
And every bright hope cross'd.
I go--I go, a floating ball,
A speck of earth at best;
But with my dying breath I call
On Peeta Kway the bless'd.
Oh! was it kind in spirits high,
Who rule these waters free,
To call the vengeance of the sky,
And turn its wrath on me?
Yet shall I triumph; for the storm
That sounds my funeral knell,
Shall lands, and coasts, and islands form,
Where joy and peace shall dwell.
And every vestige of my lodge,
And all my simple store,
Shall turn to pastures green and sweet,
And many a winding shore.
There other tribes of men shall dwell,
Who serve a purer power,
And oft of me the story tell,
To while away the hour.
So shall I live, though now I'm toss'd,
A poor, dishonour'd thing,
And where one Peeta Kway was lost,
A thousand more shall spring.
FOOTNOTES:
[24] Female spirit or prophetess.
[25] A term indicative of the heir or successor to the first place in
power.
MANABOZHO;
OR,
THE GREAT INCARNATION OF THE NORTH.
AN ALGIC LEGEND.
_Introductory Note._--The accounts which the Indians hand down of a
remarkable personage of miraculous birth, who waged a warfare with
monsters, performed the most extravagant and heroic feats, underwent a
catastrophe like Jonah's, and survived a general deluge, constitute a
very prominent portion of their cabin lore. Interwoven with these
leading traits are innumerable tales of personal achievement, sagacity,
endurance, miracle, and trick, which place him in almost every scene of
deep interest that could be imagined, from the competitor on the Indian
playground, to a giant-killer, or a mysterious being of stern,
all-knowing, superhuman power. Whatever man could do, he could do. He
affected all the powers of a necromancer. He wielded the arts of a
demon, and had the ubiquity of a god. But in proportion as Manabozho
exercises powers and performs exploits wild or wonderful, the chain of
narration which connects them is broken or vague. He leaps over
extensive regions of country like an ignis fatuus. He appears suddenly
like an avater, or saunters over weary wastes a poor and starving
hunter. His voice is at one moment deep and sonorous as a thunder-clap,
and at another clothed with the softness of feminine supplication.
Scarcely any two persons agree in all the minor circumstances of the
story, and scarcely any omit the leading traits. The several tribes who
speak dialects of the mother language from which the narration is taken,
differ, in like manner, from each other in the particulars of his
exploits. But he is not presented here as an historical personage, or in
any other light than as the native narrators themselves depict him, when
they have assembled a group of listeners in the lodge, and begin the
story of Manabozho. His birth and parentage are obscure. Story says his
grandmother was the daughter of the moon. Having been married but a
short time, her rival attracted her to a grapevine swing on the banks of
a lake, and by one bold exertion pitched her into its centre, from which
she fell through to the earth. Having a daughter, the fruit of her lunar
marriage, she was very careful in instructing her, from early infancy,
to beware of the west wind, and never, in stooping, to expose herself to
its influence. In some unguarded moment this precaution was neglected.
In an instant, the gale, invading her robes, scattered them upon its
wings, and accomplishing its Tarquinic purpose, at the same moment
annihilated her. At the scene of this catastrophe her mother found a
foetus-like mass, which she carefully and tenderly nursed till it
assumed the beautiful and striking lineaments of the infant Manabozho.
Very little is told of his early boyhood. We take him up in the
following legend at a period of advanced youth, when we find him living
with his grandmother. And at this time he possessed, although he had not
yet _exercised_, all the anomalous and contradictory powers of body and
mind, of manship and divinity, which he afterward evinced. The timidity
and rawness of the boy quickly gave way in the courageous developments
of the man. He soon evinced the sagacity, cunning, perseverance, and
heroic courage which constitute the admiration of the Indians. And he
relied largely upon these in the gratification of an ambitious,
vainglorious, and mischief-loving disposition. In wisdom and energy he
was superior to any one who had ever lived before. Yet he was simple
when circumstances required it, and was ever the object of tricks and
ridicule in others. He could transform himself into any animal he
pleased, being man or manito, as circumstances rendered necessary. He
often conversed with animals, fowls, reptiles, and fishes. He deemed
himself related to them, and invariably addressed them by the term "my
brother;" and one of his greatest resources, when hard pressed, was to
change himself into their shapes.
Manitoes constitute the great power and absorbing topic of Indian lore.
Their agency is at once the groundwork of their mythology and
demonology. They supply the machinery of their poetic inventions, and
the belief in their multitudinous existence exerts a powerful influence
upon the lives and character of individuals. As their manitoes are of
all imaginary kinds, grades, and powers, benign and malicious, it seems
a grand conception among the Indians to create a personage strong enough
in his necromantic and spiritual powers to baffle the most malicious,
beat the stoutest, and overreach the most cunning. In carrying out this
conception in the following tale, they have, however, rather exhibited
an incarnation of the power of Evil than of the genius of Benevolence.
* * * * *
Manabozho was living with his grandmother near the edge of a wide
prairie. On this prairie he first saw animals and birds of every kind.
He there also saw exhibitions of divine power in the sweeping tempests,
in the thunder and lightning, and the various shades of light and
darkness, which form a never-ending scene of observation. Every new
sight he beheld in the heavens was a subject of remark; every new animal
or bird an object of deep interest; and every sound uttered by the
animal creation a new lesson, which he was expected to learn. He often
trembled at what he heard and saw. To this scene his grandmother sent
him at an early age to watch. The first sound he heard was that of the
owl, at which he was greatly terrified, and, quickly descending the tree
he had climbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge. "Noko! Noko!"[26] he
cried, "I have heard a monedo." She laughed at his fears, and asked him
what kind of a noise it made. He answered, "It makes a noise like this:
Ko-ko-ko-ho." She told him that he was young and foolish; that what he
had heard was only a bird, deriving its name from the noise it made.
He went back and continued his watch. While there, he thought to
himself, "It is singular that I am so simple, and my grandmother so
wise, and that I have neither father nor mother. I have never heard a
word about them. I must ask and find out." He went home and sat down
silent and dejected. At length his grandmother asked him, "Manabozho,
what is the matter with you?" He answered, "I wish you would tell me
whether I have any parents living, and who my relatives are." Knowing
that he was of a wicked and revengeful disposition, she dreaded telling
him the story of his parentage, but he insisted on her compliance.
"Yes," she said, "you have a father and three brothers living. Your
mother is dead. She was taken without the consent of her parents by your
father the West. Your brothers are the North, East, and South, and,
being older than yourself, your father has given them great power with
the winds, according to their names. You are the youngest of his
children. I have nourished you from your infancy, for your mother died
in giving you birth, owing to the ill treatment of your father. I have
no relations besides you this side of the planet in which I was born,
and from which I was precipitated by female jealousy. Your mother was my
only child, and you are my only hope."
He appeared to be rejoiced to hear that his father was living, for he
had already thought in his heart to try and kill him. He told his
grandmother he should set out in the morning to visit him. She said it
was a long distance to the place where Ningabiun[27] lived. But that had
no effect to stop him, for he had now attained manhood, possessed a
giant's height, and was endowed by nature with a giant's strength and
power. He set out and soon reached the place, for every step he took
covered a large surface of ground. The meeting took place on a high
mountain in the West. His father was very happy to see him. He also
appeared pleased. They spent some days in talking with each other. One
evening Manabozho asked his father what he was most afraid of on earth.
He replied, "Nothing." "But is there not something you dread here? tell
me." At last his father said, yielding, "Yes, there is a black stone
found in such a place. It is the only thing earthly I am afraid of; for
if it should hit me or any part of my body, it would injure me very
much." He said this as a secret, and in return asked his son the same
question. Knowing each other's power, although the son's was limited,
the father feared him on account of his great strength. Manabozho
answered, "Nothing!" intending to avoid the question, or to refer to
some harmless object as the one of which he was afraid. He was asked
again and again, and answered "Nothing!" But the West said, "There must
be something you are afraid of." "Well! I will tell you," says
Manabozho, "what it is." But, before he would pronounce the word, he
affected great dread. "_Ie-ee_--_Ie-ee_--it is--it is," said he, "yeo!
yeo![28] I cannot name it, I am seized with a dread." The West told him
to banish his fears. He commenced again, in a strain of mock
sensitiveness repeating the same words; at last he cried out, "It is the
root of the _apukwa_."[29] He appeared to be exhausted by the effort of
pronouncing the word, in all this skilfully acting a studied part.
Some time after he observed, "I will get some of the black rock." The
West said, "Far be it from you; do not do so, my son." He still
persisted. "Well," said the father, "I will also get the apukwa root."
Manabozho immediately cried out, "_Kago! kago!_"[30] affecting, as
before, to be in great dread of it, but really wishing, by this course,
to urge on the West to procure it, that he might draw him into combat.
He went out and got a large piece of the black rock, and brought it
home. The West also took care to bring the dreaded root.
In the course of conversation he asked his father whether he had been
the cause of his mother's death. The answer was "Yes!" He then took up
the rock and struck him. Blow led to blow, and here commenced an
obstinate and furious combat, which continued several days. Fragments of
the rock, broken off under Manabozho's blows, can be seen in various
places to this day.[31] The root did not prove as mortal a weapon as his
well-acted fears had led his father to expect, although he suffered
severely from the blows. This battle commenced on the mountains. The
West was forced to give ground. Manabozho drove him across rivers, and
over mountains and lakes, and at last he came to the brink of this
world.
"Hold!" cried he, "my son, you know my power, and that it is impossible
to kill me. Desist, and I will also portion you out with as much power
as your brothers. The four quarters of the globe are already occupied;
but you can go and do a great deal of good to the people of this earth,
which is infested with large serpents, beasts, and monsters,[32] who
make great havoc among the inhabitants. Go and do good. You have the
power now to do so, and your fame with the beings of this earth will
last for ever. When you have finished your work, I will have a place
provided for you. You will then go and sit with your brother
Kabibboonocca in the north."
Manabozho was pacified. He returned to his lodge, where he was confined
by the wounds he had received. But from his grandmother's skill in
medicines he was soon recovered. She told him that his grandfather, who
had come to the earth in search of her, had been killed by
MEGISSOGWON,[33] who lived on the opposite side of the great lake.
"When he was alive," she continued, "I was never without oil to put on
my head, but now my hair is fast falling off for the want of it."
"Well!" said he, "Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, whilst I make
a canoe." When all was ready, he went out to the middle of the lake to
fish. He put his line down, saying, "Me-she-nah-ma-gwai (the name of the
kingfish), take hold of my bait." He kept repeating this for some time.
At last the king of the fishes said, "Manabozho troubles me. Here,
Trout, take hold of his line." The trout did so. He then commenced
drawing up his line, which was very heavy, so that his canoe stood
nearly perpendicular; but he kept crying out, "Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!"
till he could see the trout. As soon as he saw him, he spoke to him.
"Why did you take hold of my hook? Esa! esa![34] you ugly fish." The
trout, being thus rebuked, let go.
Manabozho put his line again in the water, saying, "King of fishes, take
hold of my line." But the king of the fishes told a monstrous sunfish to
take hold of it; for Manabozho was tiring him with his incessant calls.
He again drew up his line with difficulty, saying as before, "Wha-ee-he!
wha-ee-he!" while his canoe was turning in swift circles. When he saw
the sunfish, he cried, "Esa! esa! you odious fish! why did you dirty my
hook by taking it in your mouth? Let go, I say, let go." The sunfish did
so, and told the king of fishes what Manabozho said. Just at that moment
the bait came near the king, and hearing Manabozho continually crying
out, "Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my hook," at last he did so, and
allowed himself to be drawn up to the surface, which he had no sooner
reached than, at one mouthful, he took Manabozho and his canoe down.
When he came to himself, he found that he was in the fish's belly, and
also his canoe. He now turned his thoughts to the way of making his
escape. Looking in his canoe, he saw his war-club, with which he
immediately struck the heart of the fish. He then felt a sudden motion,
as if he were moving with great velocity. The fish observed to the
others, "I am sick at stomach for having swallowed this dirty fellow
Manabozho." Just at this moment he received another more severe blow on
the heart. Manabozho thought, "If I am thrown up in the middle of the
lake, I shall be drowned; so I must prevent it." He drew his canoe and
placed it across the fish's throat, and just as he had finished the fish
commenced vomiting, but to no effect. In this he was aided by a
squirrel, who had accompanied him unperceived until that moment. This
animal had taken an active part in helping him to place his canoe
across the fish's throat. For this act he named him, saying, "For the
future, boys shall always call you Ajidaumo."[35]
He then renewed his attack upon the fish's heart, and succeeded, by
repeated blows, in killing him, which he first knew by the loss of
motion, and by the sound of the beating of the body against the shore.
He waited a day longer to see what would happen. He heard birds
scratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He
could see the heads of gulls, who were looking in by the opening they
had made. "Oh!" cried Manabozho, "my younger brothers, make the opening
larger, so that I can get out." They told each other that their brother
Manabozho was inside of the fish. They immediately set about enlarging
the orifice, and in a short time liberated him. After he got out he said
to the gulls, "For the future you shall be called Kayoshk[36] for your
kindness to me."