|IN time past--we cannot tell exactly how many, many years ago--a poor
Indian was living with his wife and children in a beautiful part of the
country. He was not only poor, but he had the misfortune to be inexpert
in procuring food for his family, and his children were all too young to
give him any assistance.
Although of a lowly condition and straitened in his circumstances, he
was a man of kind and contented disposition. He was always thankful to
the Great Spirit for everything he received. He even stood in the door
of his lodge to bless the birds that flew past in the summer evenings;
although, if he had been of a complaining temper, he might have repined
that they were not rather spread upon the table for his evening meal.
The same gracious and sweet disposition was inherited by his eldest son,
who had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the ceremony of the
fast to learn what kind of a spirit would be his guide and guardian
through life.
Wunzh, for this was his name, had been an obedient boy from his
infancy--pensive, thoughtful, and gentle--so that he was beloved by the
whole family.
As soon as the first buds of spring appeared and the delicious fragrance
of the young year began to sweeten the air, his father, with the help
of his younger brothers, built for Wunzh the customary little lodge at
a retired spot some distance from their own, where he would not be
disturbed during the solemn rite.
To prepare himself, Wunzh sought to clear his heart of every evil
thought and to think of nothing that was not good, and beautiful, and
kindly.
That he might store his mind with pleasant ideas for his dreams, for the
first few days he amused himself by walking in the woods and over the
mountains, examining the early plants and flowers.
As he rambled far and wide through the wild country, he felt a strong
desire to know how the plants and herbs and berries grew, without any
aid from man, and why it was that some kinds were good to eat, and that
others were possessed of medicinal or poisonous power.
After he had become too languid from fasting to walk about, and confined
himself strictly to the lodge, he recalled these thoughts. Turning them
in his mind, he wished he could dream of something that would prove
a benefit to his father and family, and to all others of his
fellow-creatures.
"True," thought Wunzh, "the Great Spirit made all things, and it is to
him that we owe our lives. Could he not make it easier for us to get our
food than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try to find this
out in my visions."
On the third day Yfunzh became weak and faint, and lay flat in a kind
of stupor. Suddenly he fancied that a bright light came in at the
lodge door, and ere he was aware, he saw a handsome young man, with a
complexion of the softest and purest white, coming down from the sky and
advancing toward him.
The beautiful stranger was richly and gaily dressed, having on a great
many garments of green and yellow colors, but differing in their deeper
or lighter shades. He had a plume of waving feathers on his head, and
all his motions were graceful, reminding Wunzh of the deep green of the
summer grass, the clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle blowing
of the summer wind. As Wunzh gazed at his visitor, he paused on a little
mound of earth just before the door of the lodge.
"I am sent to you, my friend," said this celestial visitor, in a voice
most soft and musical to listen to, "I am sent to you by that Great
Spirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has seen
and knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and
benevolent wish to do good to your people and to procure a benefit for
them; and that you do not seek for strength in war, or the praise of the
men of the bloody hand. So I am sent to instruct you and to show you how
you can do your kindred good."
He then told Wunzh to arise and to prepare to wrestle with him, as it
was only by this means that he could hope to succeed in his desires.
Wunzh knew how weak he was from fasting, but the voice of the stranger
was cheery and put such a courage in his heart, that he promptly sprang
up, determined to die rather than fail.
He began the trial, and after a long-sustained struggle, was almost
overpowered, when the beautiful stranger said:
"My friend, it is enough for once; I will come again to try you," and
smiling on him, he returned through the air in the same direction in
which he had come.
The next day, although Wunzh saw how sweetly the wild-flowers bloomed
upon the slopes and the birds warbled from the woodland, he longed to
see the celestial visitor and to hear his voice.
To his great joy he reappeared at the same hour, toward the going down
of the sun, and re-challenged Wunzh to a trial of strength.
The brave Wunzh felt that his strength of body was even less than on the
day before, but the courage of his mind seemed to grow. Observing this,
and how Wunzh put his whole heart into the struggle, the stranger again
spoke to him in the words he used before, adding:
"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is
the only way in which you can overcome me and obtain the boon you seek."
The light which shone after him as he left Wunzh was brighter than
before.
On the third day he came again and renewed the struggle. Very faint
in body was poor Wunzh, but he was stronger at heart than ever, and
determined to prevail now or perish. He put forth his utmost powers,
and after a contest more severe than either of the others, the stranger
ceased his efforts and declared himself conquered.
For the first time he entered Wunzh's little fasting-lodge, and sitting
down beside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to him and
to inform him in what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his
victory.
"You have won your desire of the Great Spirit," said the beautiful
stranger. "You 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 people.
To-morrow," he repeated, "I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the
last time. 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 at times to visit
the place, to see whether I have come to life, and above all be careful
never to let the grass or weeds grow upon my grave. Once a month cover
me with fresh earth. If you follow these 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 Wunzh by the hand and disappeared, but he was gone so soon
that Wunzh could not tell what direction he took.
In the morning, Wunzh's father came to his lodge with some slight
refreshments, saying:
"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will favor
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 Wunzh, "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 shall be inclined to eat."
At his usual hour of appearing, the beautiful sky-visitor returned, and
the trial of strength was renewed. Although he had not availed himself
of his father's offer of food, Wunzh felt that new strength had been
given him. His heart was mighty within him to achieve some great
purpose. Within the bosom of the brave Wunzh courage was like the eagle
that spreads his wings within the tree-top for a great flight.
He grasped his challenger with supernatural strength, threw him down,
and, mindful of his instructions, tore away his beautiful garments and
plume. Finding him dead, he immediately buried him on the spot, using
all the precautions he had been told of, and very confident was Wunzh,
all the time, that his friend would again come to life.
Wunzh now returned to his father's lodge, where he was warmly welcomed.
For as it had been appointed to him during the days of his fasting to
walk apart, he had not been permitted to see any human face save that of
his father, the representative to the little household upon earth of the
great Father of all people.
Wunzh partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him, and
once more mingled in the cares and sports of the family. But he never
for a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited it
throughout the spring, weeded out the grass, and kept the ground in a
soft and pliant state; and sometimes, when the brave Wunzh thought of
his friend that was gone from his sight, he dropped a tear upon the
earth where he lay.
Watching and tending and moistening the earth with his tears, it was
not long before Wunzh saw the tops of green plumes coming through the
ground; and the more faithful he was in obeying his instructions in
keeping the ground in order and in cherishing the memory of his friend,
the faster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal all these
things from his father.
Days and weeks had passed in this way; the summer was drawing toward a
close, when one day Wunzh invited his father to follow him to the quiet
and lonesome spot of his former fast.
The little fasting-lodge had been removed and the weeds kept from
growing on the circle where it had stood; but in its place rose a tall
and graceful plant, surmounted with nodding plumes, stately leaves, and
golden clusters. There was in its aspect and bearing the deep green
of the summer grass, the clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle
blowing of the summer wind.
"It is my friend!" shouted Wunzh, "it is the friend of all mankind. It
is Mondawmin: it is our Indian Corn! 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. Henceforth our
people will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters."
Wunzh then communicated to his father the instructions given to him by
the stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he
had pulled off the stranger's garments in his wrestling. Then he showed
him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin becomes
brown, while all the milk is retained in the grain.
The whole family, in high spirits and deeply grateful, assisted in a
feast on the newly grown ears of corn.
So came that mighty blessing into the world, and we owe all of those
beautiful fields of healthful grain to the dream of the brave boy Wunzh.