|THERE once lived an Indian in the north who had ten daughters, all of
whom grew up to womanhood. They were noted for their beauty, especially
Oweenee, the youngest, who was very independent in her way of thinking.
She was a great admirer of romantic places and spent much of her time
with the flowers and winds and clouds in the open air. It mattered not
to her that the flower was homely, if it was fragrant--that the winds
were rough, if they were healthful--and that the clouds were dark, if
they embosomed the fruitful rain; she knew how, in spite of appearances,
to acknowledge the good qualities concealed from the eye.
Her elder sisters were all sought in marriage, and one after another
went off to dwell in the lodges of their husbands. But Oweenee paid very
little attention to the many handsome young men who came to her father's
lodge for the purpose of seeing her. She was deaf to all proposals, till
at last to the great surprise of her kinsfolk she married an old man
called Osseo, who was scarcely able to walk, and who was too poor to
have things like other people. The only property he owned in the world
was the walking-staff which he carried in his hand. But though thus poor
and homely, Osseo was a devout and good man, faithful in all his duties,
and obedient in all things to the Good Spirit. Of course they jeered and
laughed at Oweenee on all sides, but she seemed to be quite happy, and
said to them:
"It is my choice and you will see in the end who has acted the wisest."
They made a special mock of the walking-staff, and scarcely an hour in
the day passed that they had not some disparaging reference to make
to it. Among themselves they spoke of "Osseo of the walking-staff," in
derision, as one might speak of "the owner of the big woods," or "the
great timberman."
"True," said Oweenee, "it is but a simple stick; but as it supports the
steps of my husband, it is more precious to me than all the forests of
the north."
A time came when the sisters and their husbands and their parents were
all invited to a feast. As the distance was considerable, they doubted
whether Osseo, so aged and feeble, would be able to undertake the
journey; but in spite of their friendly doubts, he joined them and set
out with a good heart.
As they walked along the path they could not help pitying their young
and handsome sister who had such an unsuitable mate. She, however,
smiled upon Osseo, and kept with him on the way the same as if he had
been the comeliest bridegroom in all the company. Osseo often stopped
and gazed upward; but the others could perceive nothing in the direction
in which he looked, unless it was the faint glimmering of the evening
star. They heard him muttering to himself as they went along, and one of
the elder sisters caught the words:
"Pity me, my father!"
"Poor old man," said she, "he is talking to his father. What a pity it
is that he would not fall and break his neck, that our sister might have
a young husband."
Presently as they came to a great rock where Osseo had been used to
breathe his morning and his evening prayer, the star emitted a brighter
ray, which shone directly in his face. Osseo, with a sharp cry, fell
trembling to the earth, where the others would have left him. But his
good wife raised him up, whereupon he sprang forward on the path, and
with steps light as the reindeer's he led the party, no longer decrepit
and infirm, but a beautiful young man. All were delighted, but when they
turned around to look for his wife, behold! she had become changed at
the same moment into an aged and feeble woman, bent almost double, and
walking with the staff which he had cast aside.
Osseo immediately joined her, and with looks of fondness and the
tenderest regard bestowed on her every endearing attention, and
constantly addressed her by the term of "De-ne-moosh-a," or "my
sweetheart."
As they walked along, whenever they were not gazing fondly in each
other's faces they bent their looks on heaven, and a light, as if of
far-off stars, was in their eyes.
On arriving at the lodge of the hunter with whom they were to feast,
they found the banquet ready, and as soon as their entertainer had
finished his harangue--in which he told them his feasting was in honor
of the Evening or Woman's Star--they began to partake of the portion
dealt out to each one of the guests, according to age and character. The
food was very delicious, and they were all happy but Osseo, who looked
at his wife and then gazed upward, as if he were still looking into the
substance of the sky. Then sounds were heard, as if from far-off voices
in the air, and they became plainer and plainer, till he could clearly
distinguish some of the words.
"My son, my son," said the voice, "I have seen your afflictions, and
pity your wants. I come to call you away from a scene that is stained
with blood and tears. The earth is full of sorrows. Wicked spirits, the
enemies of mankind, walk abroad and lie in wait to ensnare the children
of the sky. Every night they are lifting their voices to the Power of
Evil, and every day they make themselves busy in casting mischief in the
hunter's path. You have long been their victim, but you shall be their
victim no more. The spell you were under is broken. Your evil genius is
overcome. I have cast him down by my superior strength, and it is this
strength I now exert for your happiness. Ascend, my son; ascend into the
skies, and partake of the feast I have prepared for you in the stars,
and bring with you those you love.
"The food set before you is enchanted and blessed. Fear not to partake
of it. It is endowed with magic power to give immortality to mortals and
to change men to spirits. Your bowls and kettles shall no longer be wood
and earth. The one shall become silver, and the other pure gold. They
shall shine like fire, and glisten like the most beautiful scarlet.
Every maiden shall also change her state and looks, and no longer be
doomed to laborious tasks. She shall put on the beauty of the star-light
and become a shining bird of the air. She shall dance and not work. She
shall sing, and not cry.
"My beams," continued the voice, "shine faintly on your lodge, but they
have power to transform it into the lightness of the skies and decorate
it with the colors of the clouds. Come, Osseo, my son, and dwell no
longer on earth. Think strongly on my words and look steadfastly at my
beams. My power is now at its height. Doubt not, delay not. It is the
voice of the Spirit of the Evening Star that calls you away to happiness
and celestial rest."
The words were clear to Osseo, but his companions thought them some
far-off sounds of music, or birds singing in the woods. Very soon the
lodge began to shake and tremble, and they felt it rising into the air.
It was too late to run out, for they were already as high as the tops
of the trees. Osseo looked around him as the lodge passed through the
topmost boughs, and behold, their wooden dishes were changed into shells
of a scarlet color, the poles of the lodge to glittering rods of silver,
and the bark that covered them into the gorgeous wings of insects.
A moment more and his brothers and sisters, and their parents and
friends, were transformed into birds of various plumage. Some were jays,
some partridges and pigeons, and others gay singing birds, who hopped
about displaying their many-colored feathers and singing songs of
cheerful note.
But his wife, Oweenee, still kept her earthly garb and showed all the
signs of extreme old age. He again cast his eyes in the direction of the
clouds and uttered the peculiar cry which had given him the victory at
the rock. In a moment the youth and beauty of his wife returned; her
dingy garments assumed the shining appearance of green silk, and her
staff was changed into a silver feather.
The lodge again shook and trembled, for they were now passing through
the uppermost clouds, and they immediately afterward found themselves in
the Evening Star, the residence of Osseo's father.
"My son," said the old man, "leave the cage of birds at the door of the
lodge. Then enter, and I will inform you why you and your wife have been
sent for."
Osseo obeyed, and then took his seat in the lodge.
"Pity was shown to you," resumed the King of the Star, "on account of
the contempt of your wife's sisters, who laughed at her ill fortune and
ridiculed you while you were under the power of that wicked spirit whom
you overcame at the rock. That spirit lives in the next lodge, the
small star you see on the left of mine. He has always felt envious of
my family because we had greater power, and especially that we had
committed to us the care of the female world. He failed in many attempts
to destroy your brothers and sisters-in-law, but succeeded at last in
transforming yourself and your wife into decrepit old persons. You must
be careful and not let the light of his beams fall on you, while you are
here, for therein lies the power of his enchantment. A ray of light is
the bow and arrow he uses."
Osseo and Oweenee lived happy and contented in the parental lodge, and
in the course of time had a son, who grew up rapidly and in the very
likeness of Osseo himself. He was very quick and ready in learning
everything that was done in his grandfather's dominions, but he wished
also to learn the art of hunting, for he had heard that this was a
favorite pursuit below. To gratify him, his father made him a bow and
arrows and then let the birds out of the cage that he might practise
shooting. In this pastime he soon became expert, and the very first day
he brought down a bird; but when he went to pick it up, to his amazement
it was a beautiful young woman, with the arrow sticking in her breast.
It was one of his younger aunts.
The moment her blood fell upon the surface of that pure and spotless
planet, the charm was dissolved. The boy immediately found himself
sinking, although he was partly upheld by something like wings until
he had passed through the lower clouds. He then suddenly dropped upon a
high, breezy island in a large lake. He was pleased, on looking up, to
see all his aunts and uncles following him in the form of birds, and he
soon discovered the silver lodge descending with his father and mother,
its waving tassels fluttering like so many insects' gilded wings. It
rested on the loftiest cliffs of the island, and there they fixed
their residence. They all resumed their natural shapes, but they were
diminished to the size of fairies; and as a mark of homage to the King
of the Evening Star, they never failed on every pleasant evening during
the summer season to join hands and dance upon the top of the rocks.
These rocks were quickly observed by the Indians to be covered, on
moonlight evenings, with a larger sort of Ininees, or little men. They
called them Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong, or Little Spirits, and the island
is named from them to this day.
Their shining lodge can be seen in the summer evenings, when the moon
beams strongly on the pinnacles of the rocks; and the fishermen who go
near those high cliffs at night have even heard the voices of the happy
little dancers. And Osseo and his wife, as fondly attached to each other
as ever, always lead the dance.
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