After a pause of the usual length, Miacomet, an aged Narragansett, rose
and said:
"Brother, I am a Narragansett, and my father and mother were
Narragansetts. I live a journey of more than two moons towards the
rising sun. But you will say the name of the Narragansetts is unknown to
you, and will ask what deeds have they done. Are they warlike? can they
fast long, travel far, and bear the tortures of the flame, without
betraying tears and groans? The tribes of the north, and the south, and
the west, of the Great River, and the Broad Lake, and the Spirit's
Backbone, will say this, for they know us not. Our hunting-fields lie
far apart, and our war-paths are over different forests. But it is only
to those who live a far way off, who have never heard the roaring of the
Great Lake in the time of storms, or killed the fish, whose body is a
mountain, that the Narragansetts are unknown. Our neighbours know us
well, brother; they have both seen and felt us. Come to our cabins,
brothers, and come in what guise you like. If you come in peace, you
shall be welcome, and we will make a feast for you. We will hunt the
nimble deer with you, and show you where the mighty eagle roosts, and
where the fish with shining scales abides. If you come painted, your
war-pipe filled, your bow bent, your arrow sharp and barbed, your heart
strong, and your cry loud, we too will paint ourselves; we will smoke
our pipe of war, we will bend our bow, make sharp our arrows, and stout
our hearts, and will cry our war-cry, till the startled heron shall wing
his way from the swamps to his hiding-place among the hills, and the
deer shall escape from the open space to the tangled covert. Our shouts
shall be as loud as the roar of the Lake of Whales in the time of the
Herring-Moon.
"Brother, we have with us a chief, whose face is of the colour of the
plucked pigeon; he listens. He has crossed the great waters in the
season of storms, he has forded the shallow streams and swum the
deeper, and threaded the dreary woods, and faced unaccustomed dangers,
that he may learn our traditions, our customs, our laws, and our
opinions of the Great Spirit. He has come, if he does not lie, from a
far country, a land very beautiful to the eye, a land of many villages
and much people, but who are not so wise and warlike as we are. He has
left his father and mother, and wife and children, and the bones and
burial-place of his ancestors, to listen to the wisdom of the
Indians, and to be instructed by them in the history of their tribes.
Shall we enlighten him? Shall we teach him the things which we know,
that be may go back to his countrymen prepared to repeat to them the
words of wisdom which fell from our lips; that, when he returns to his
own fire-place, he may make the young doves coo, and the eyes of then
mother glisten, with the tales he has heard in the camp of the Red Man.
"Brother, the Narragansetts have a tradition which I will repeat before
you. It has come down to us from old days, and we believe it, for it was
told us by our fathers, who were men of truth. I know not how long since
the thing was done; I cannot number the rings upon the oak since the day
of its date, nor the moons that have been born and have died. But I know
it was done, and done in the lands which my tribe now occupy. Listen.
"The Narragansetts are the oldest people in the world; older than the
Pequods; older than the Iroquois. _When_ they were created, no one
knows, save the Great Spirit--_how,_ ask not me, for I do not know.
We were when we first knew we were; we lived when we first found we had
breath, further than that I cannot tell you. How should I know more? If
a man, while he was wrapped in a deep sleep, should be carried to a far
land which he had never seen before, would he know where he was when he
waked? or could he tell how he came thither? no, nor can I tell you the
manner of the creation of man, or name, with certainty, his creator.
"But this we do know--when we are born, we are helpless children. The
Narragansetts once were such. Even when they had grown to the stature
of men, their warriors were nothing but big boys; their chiefs and
councillors no wiser than old women. There was a time when they had no
bow and arrow, no hatchet, no canoe, no cabin, no corn. They were
ignorant and foolish as white men. They would have mistaken the track of
the moose for that of a wild cat; they would have thought the tread of a
land-tortoise the trail of the grey snake; they would have killed an owl
and feasted upon it, for a heath-hen. They had nothing but feet to walk
with, hands to catch fish with, and tongues which loved best to utter
wicked lies and speak foolish words. They were only fit to serve bad
spirits, the men of the Spirit of Evil, whom they called Hobbamock(1).
And they did serve him, night and day, but he would give them very
little for their worship, treating them worse than he treated any tribe
upon the borders of the Great Lake. The Pequods killed more whales; the
people of Nope raised more _poke_. When a Narragansett caught a deer,
it was always a sick one, and had no fat upon it, and when he speared a
fish, it had only a backbone. He was, in truth, a very ungrateful
master."
There was among the Narragansetts a very wise conjuror(2) or priest,
whose name was Sasasquit. He was the priest of the Good Spirit; he was a
good man; much better than the rest of the tribe, for he never served
the Evil Spirit. He said to the Narragansetts, "If you were better men,
if you served my master, the Good Spirit, as you do the Evil Spirit, he
would give you abundance of good things. You would not, as you do now,
catch fish with heads as big as mine, and bodies no bigger than my arm,
but would take fat fish, and would take them with little trouble. You
would snare birds more easily, and, perhaps, have other gifts which now
you do not dream of."
The Sachem said to the people, "Sasasquit talks well, but talking well
is the business of a priest. Let us say to him, that we will take for
our God the Spirit which gives us the best gifts, and bid him tell his
master so."
The Narragansetts liked well what the Sachem had said, and went in a
body to Sasasquit. "We have come," said they, "to offer our services
and worship to the Great Spirit, if he will pay us better for our
worship than Hobbamock has done."
Sasasquit replied, "It is not for the worth of your worship, that the
Great Spirit will grant your wish, but because he loves to vex the Evil
Spirit. Come to-morrow to the Great Hill, when the sun first comes out
of the water, and you shall see whose God is the most generous--yours,
or mine."
Early the next day the tribe all gathered to the place where Sasasquit
had agreed to meet them. With them came Pocasset, the priest of the Evil
Spirit, wearing his robes of magic, a bear's-skin, curiously painted
with figures of beasts, and birds, and fishes, and the skin of a dog's
head drawn over his own, with the teeth standing out. When all the tribe
had assembled, Sasasquit asked the Sachem, Miantinomo, to repeat what he
had before said, that the Narragansetts would serve the Spirit that
should make them the greatest and best gifts. Then Miantinomo repeated
what he had before said, and all the Indians promised as he had
promised. Pocasset also made them a very long speech. I have forgotten
what he said, only I know he said, that "his master would have the best
of the bargain yet."
Then Sasasquit climbed up a great tree, till he came to the topmost
bough, when he commenced calling upon the Great Spirit. And this was the
song he sung:
I call upon thee, Master of Breath!
Master of Life! on thee I call.
I, Sasasquit, priest of the Narragansetts,
Call from the top of the tree,
Cry from the depths of the valleys,
Sing from the deep waters of the Great Lake:
Come to me, hearken to my song.
Shall the priest of the Evil Spirit triumph?
Shall the priest of the Evil Spirit boast over me?
Over thee shall he triumph?
Thou, who art mightiest?
Thou, who art greatest?
Shall the people say of me--Loud he boasted,
And fair he promised;
But weak were his boasts,
And false his promises.
Hearken thou, then, for now I call,
Hearken thou, then, for I demand a gift.
Look, then, upon this wretched people!
Poor are they in soul,
Weak are they in heart,
Hungry, fearful, timid, naked, men.
I ask of thee a gift for them;
A gift which shall gladden their hearts;
A gift which shall make bright their eyes,
And pleasant and good their lives.
When Sasasquit had finished his song, the Narragansetts saw coming
towards them, from the far regions of the North, a very big man,
taller than the tallest pine of the forest, and as large around as the
shade cast by a great tree full of leaves. Yet, monster as he was, he
came through the air ten times as swift as the swiftest eagle could
fly, using his hands and feet as a frog uses his legs in swimming. It
was but a breath, while he came from the farthest hill in view to the
place where the nation were assembled together. Down he flapped, but
spoke not a word, while he laid, at the feet of Sasasquit, a beautiful
canoe, made of a great tree hollowed out by fire. "There," said he
gruffly, "the Great Spirit sends this to the Devil's children, the
Narragansetts."
"What is it? what is it?" they all asked, crowding around, for none of
them knew what it was good for, or guessed the use it was to be put to.
The big man told them, in their own language, that it was a thing
wherein to float upon the water, to go to catch fish, and to cross
streams. When he had explained to them what it was good for, he said he
would show them how to use it. He carried the canoe to the water, and
having made a paddle, placed Sasasquit in it, and taught him how to move
the canoe by its aid. Our people were mightily pleased with the gift,
and spent the remainder of the day in learning how to manage it. "The
Great Spirit is very good," said they, "and has shown a great deal more
love for us than Hobbamock has done, for he never gave us any thing for
our worship and sacrifices, except promises and lies." They decided,
however, that they would wait and see what he would do for them before
they bestowed their worship upon his rival.
The next day the Narragansetts came together in the same place, as
soon as they could see the sun, very curious to know what the Evil
Spirit would give them to equal or surpass the Good Spirit's gift.
They waited until Pocasset had finished his invocation, and, with
lessening patience, a still longer time, but in vain. No sound was
heard, no sign was visible. Nothing was seen to announce the coming of
the Bad Man, or any of his friends. Our people grew very angry, and
talked, not only of bestowing all their worship upon the Good Spirit,
and giving him all their choice tribute of oysters and lobsters, but
also of roasting Pocasset. They said, "The priest of the Evil Spirit
is good for nothing. When Sasasquit called upon his master, he heard
him, and at his request sent us a good gift; but Pocasset's master
hears him not, though he has sung him a song which makes our ears cry
for deafness." They had just caught hold of Pocasset, and were going
to pull him to pieces, when there was a great noise of thunder, though
they saw no lightning, and a little creature started up out of the
ground, and stood in the midst of them. Never was a more ugly,
misshapen monster seen upon the earth. He was no bigger than a child
that has seen the flowers bloom and the corn ripen twice. Yet he
appeared to be very old, for his hair was of the colour of the moss
upon the sunny side of the oak; his teeth were rotten and decayed; his
knees were bent out like warped bows; and his voice was not the voice
of a young man, but sounded like the voice of the muck-a-wiss singing
in the hollow woods in the summer moons. His face was covered with
hair of the colour of the feathers of the blue heron, and stood out
like the feathers of a duck that plumes itself in the warm sun, on the
shores of the lake. His skin was blacker than charred wood, or the
black raven. The Narragansetts were dreadfully frightened, and were
going to run away, when Pocasset stopped them, saying, "Don't be
afraid, it is my master. Don't you know him whom you have served so
many years? Why he won't hurt you."
"More than you know, Poke," grunted the ugly little creature, putting
his moss-coloured hair behind his great yellow ears. "But do not be
afraid, Narragansetts, the Little Man loves you, and is come to make
you a gift. What do you think these are?"--showing them a bow and a
sheaf of arrows. The Narragansetts all declared they could not tell,
and begged the Little Man to tell them the names, and shew them the
uses of the strange instruments.
"I will," said he. "Now tell me what bird that is which sits upon the
dry branch of the aged hemlock by the little stream?"
One answered, and told him it was the bird which sang in the morning to
wake lazy sleepers, and to tell the bashful lover who loitered around
the couch of his maiden that the eyes of the sun would soon be upon
them.
"The bird that has sung in the morning shall never sing in the evening,"
said the monster grinning. With that, drawing the bow to his ear upon
the side farthest from his heart, he put an arrow before it, and,
letting it fly, the bird fell dead upon the earth beneath the tree. The
Indians, upon seeing this exploit, shouted and hurraed, and made such a
noise, that the roaring of the sea could scarcely be heard for it. They
begged Hobbamock to shew them how he killed the bird at the distance of
a stone's throw, which he did at their request again and again, and each
time they repeated their hurrahing and shouting. "And now," said he,
"whose gift do you like best--the Great Spirit's, or mine?"
They all answered that "they liked his gift best, because it would
enable them to kill their enemies, the Mohegans."
"Will you continue to worship me?"
They were upon the point of answering "Yes," when Sasasquit asked them
to wait till another sun, before they gave themselves to the Evil One.
"To-morrow," said he, "I will kindle a fire, and burn a sacrifice to my
master, and see if he wills that the Wicked Spirit shall have the
Narragansetts for ever."
On hearing this, they agreed to wait till another day, and so they told
the Evil Spirit, who grew dreadfully angry thereupon, and, shaking his
hair and breathing flames, sank into the earth, to the great joy of the
Indians.
Up with the sun was Sasasquit; and about his business he went. He built
the fire of sacrifice, piling it high with the driest trees of the
forest, and he laid thereon the best offering he could procure--a fat
fish from the river beside his cabin. He sung as before a song or
invocation, in which he mentioned the wants of the wretched Indians, and
the cunning endeavours of the Evil Spirit to keep them in his service,
and ended by begging his master to shew his own superiority, and enable
his priest to foil the tricks of his adversary. The tribe assembled,
just as they had done on the previous days. But they were more anxious
now than they had been before, because the more there is in the cabin of
a man, the greater is his thirst to increase his store, and the stronger
his inclination for that he hath not. Nor did they before even dream
that the Great Spirit could do such things as be had done for them.
Being taught that he could bestow valuable gifts where he liked, they
expected something which should far surpass all they had before
received.
They had not waited long when they saw a large black eagle flying
swiftly from the east, directly towards their village. When they first
saw him, he was high in the air, higher than the summit of Haup--high as
the mighty hills which Indians call the Alleghany, or hills of the
Allegewi. Gradually he descended, and, when he came near, they saw that
he bore a man upon his back. Nearer and nearer came the eagle and his
rider, and soon alighted on a little hill, a few steps from the Indians.
The man then got down from his strange horse. "Oh! ho!" said he, "I wish
I had taken my buffalo-cloak with me, it will be cold flying back."
"What have you brought us now?" asked the people, crowding around him.
"Oh, a thing or two," answered he that rode the eagle.
With that he pulled out of the pouch at his side a long black,
dirty-looking leaf, which smelt very strong, and also a little bowl
about the size of a man's thumb, with a long, slender handle fixed to
it. Said he to a boy standing near him, "Run, my pretty fellow, and
bring me some fire." Whilst the boy was bringing the fire, he fell to
rubbing the black leaf to pieces between the palms of his hands. The boy
brought him the fire. Then he put the powdered dust into the little
bowl, placed the fire upon the top of the dust, and fell to making a
great smoke, like that which the wind of spring brings from off the face
of the Great Waters. The Indians asked him what he called the black
leaf.
"Bacca, bacco, tobacco," answered he.
"What is it good for?" demanded they.
"Good for--good for--why--why," exclaimed he, seemingly puzzled, "why,
good for many things. Good for the tooth-ache--good to drive away the
blue devils."
The Indians, though they were well enough acquainted with devils, did
not know what he meant by "blue ones," nor do they know to this day.
They asked him to let them smoke in _the pipe_, which was the name by
which he called the instrument with the little bowl. They liked it very
well upon trying it, but they could not be persuaded to think it of as
much value as the bow and arrows which the Bad Spirit had given them.
The man who rode the eagle perceived their minds, and said "I have
another present."
He bade them bring him a small stick, which they did, and then he began
to beat the eagle. It screamed terribly beneath the lash, and turned
round upon him with its mouth open, as if it would fight him, but he
only beat it the harder. At last it did the thing he wanted it should
do, and dropped a little heap of seeds, white, flat, and not so large
over as the nail upon the little finger of a full-grown man. The man did
not beat the eagle any more after this, but stroked down its feathers
gently, and told it he was very sorry for what he had done. "Now," said
he to the Indians, "take the seeds to the water and wash them." They
washed the seeds as he directed, and brought them back to him. "Build a
fire," said he. They built a fire. Then he took some of the seeds and
raked them up in the ashes of the fire, stirring them continually, until
they were of the colour of a Narragansett's skin. When he had roasted
them as much as he would, he called the tribe around him, and bade them
taste the parched seeds. They all cried out that the seeds were good,
very good, and begged him to beat the eagle, till they had procured
enough to satisfy them all, but he would not. They asked him what the
seeds were called. He told them "corn-maize," and said he would shew
them another way to cook it. He bade them bring him a big, flat stone,
and a little round one, and to fill their great stone-kettle with water,
and to make it hot, while he pounded the corn. The man that rode the
eagle pounded the corn, and the Narragansetts boiled the water. When the
water was hot, he shook the pounded corn into the water, until it became
quite thick, stirring it quickly all the while. When it had cooled, so
that it could be eaten, he tasted it, bidding the Narragansetts do the
like. "Charming _hominy_," said he. The Indians ate very heartily of it,
and declared nothing was ever so good before, and again, one and all
thanked the Great Spirit, and said he was very kind--much kinder than
the Evil Spirit. They were, as once before, just about to declare
themselves servants to the master of the man that rode the eagle and
sent them the corn, when a very spiteful old woman--one who was always
full of mischief--got up, and advised them to wait a little longer, and
give the Little Man one more chance. "The longer the trial between the
two spirits lasted, the more the Indians got, the better," she said, and
our people said the same. Upon this the man got up on his winged horse,
very sorrowful but not very angry, and flew away, leaving them the
remainder of the seeds, which, he told them, must be planted in the
earth when the winter had departed, and the trees were putting out their
leaves, and the little blue and yellow flowers began to peep through
their frost-nipped coverings.
The next sun, when the Narragansetts went out of their lodges, there sat
the ugly little creature, with the moss-coloured beard and yellow ears,
perched upon the top of a high tree. They spoke to him, but he made no
answer--asked him what he had brought them--still no answer. All the
while his eyes were intently fixed upon the waters of the Great Lake,
which began to be tossed about with a high wind. At last, when they were
tired of watching his motions, and some of the boldest, now grown
familiar with him and no longer chilled with fear, talked of stoning him
from his roost, he cried out, pointing with his finger, "Look yonder!"
They now beheld, in the direction he bade them look, far away on the
foaming bosom of the Great Lake, something resembling a great, white
fowl. It was moving very swiftly towards the land of the Narragansetts.
The nearer it approached, the more our people were puzzled to tell what
it was; some said it was a duck, some thought it a cloud, and others
that it was the Good Spirit who had taken a new form, and was coming to
offer more proofs of his love for the Narragansetts. They asked the ugly
little man upon the tree what it was, but he only showed his teeth like
a dog that guards a bone, and would not make answer.
The strange creature was now very near, and seemed a more wondrous
object than ever. It had a body shaped very much like the canoe which
the Great Spirit had given the Indians; but it was as much larger as an
old bear is larger than a cub, the minute it is born, or an eagle is
larger than a humming-bird. It had wings, white as the wings of the
sea-gull, and as large over as a small lake. When it had come near the
shore, its many wings were drawn up and hidden, and in their stead three
tall poles were displayed, with many short ones crossing them, to one of
which the Little Man jumped from his perch on the tree.
The Indians were more astonished at this object than they had been at
any of the others. It did not appear to possess life, yet how came it
thither. Unable to tell what it meant, our people fled, startled and
frightened, into the deep thicket, and there held a council, and debated
what was best to be done. At length, encouraged by the thought that, of
all the strange creatures which had visited them, none had ever
attempted to harm them, they called up courage, and returned to the
shore. They now beheld a canoe, moved by long paddles and filled with
men, approaching the shore where they stood. It struck on the beach, and
out of it came many savages, the colour of whose faces was like that of
the stranger who is with us. They commenced talking to the Narragansetts
in a language which none of them understood, any more than they
understood the cry of the catamount. The Narragansetts were preparing to
use upon the strangers the bows and arrows which the Little Man had
given them, when one of them, laughing very loudly and sillily, held up
a strange-shaped thing, which had a long neck to it like the ugly bird
which cries in the brakes in the beginning of darkness. This he often
raised to his mouth, turning the top of the neck into it, and drinking
something from it, which he seemed to love very much. At last, down he
tumbled on the ground, singing very badly, and making very hideous
mouths, though the Indians could not tell what he laughed and mouthed
about. There he lay on his back, kicking as a frog swims, till the
Little Man went up to him, and took away the thing which held the
maddening draught. The Narragansetts demanded of the Little Man what he
had there.
"A bottle," he replied.
"What is there in it?" they asked.
"Good stuff! good rum(3)--very good rum," said he, shaking the bottle,
and winking with both eyes. "Here, taste and see," and he held out the
the bottle.
"T-a-s-t-e and s-e-e," cried the man who had fallen down, hiccuping.
The Narragansetts tasted of the rum, and liked it so well, that in a
little time they had drunk all there was in the bottle, and ask the
Little Man if he had any more. "Oh, great plenty," answered he, "the
White Men, like those who came in the canoe, let me have it dog-cheap.
I get almost all my worshippers by it; oh, I buy a great many
worshippers by it. Yes, plenty of good rum--Indians may have it almost
for nothing. The white men will bring me plenty of good rum."
"If you will let us have plenty of drink, like that in the bottle,
plenty of rum, you shall be our master," said the Indians. "It is a
great deal better than the Good Spirit's corn."
The bargain was soon made between the Evil Spirit and the Narragansetts.
The Evil Spirit agreed that his white men should let the Indians have as
much rum as the Narragansetts wanted, and they in return were to be his
servants. So, from that day to this, the Narragansetts have served the
Evil Spirit. They get from the Good Spirit the canoes which enable them
to cross rivers and catch fish, and the corn which fills their bellies,
but the bows and arrows which lead them to engage in bloody wars, and
the rum which makes dogs, and bears, and hogs, and wild cats of them,
they get from the Devil and the pale faces. Yet it must be told that
neither spirit has exactly kept his word. The Great Spirit sometimes
withers the corn by withholding rain from it, or sweeps it away by
sending too much; and the Evil Spirit often lets the pale faces drink up
all the rum before it reaches the Indians.