The following story was obtained by the writer, directly from the lips
of a Seneca Indian, and the hero is said to have been the grandfather
of the celebrated orator Red Jacket.
There was a time when all the Indian tribes in the world were at war
with the great Seneca nation, whose hunting grounds were on the borders
of Lake Ontario. So fearful had they become of their enemies, that the
bravest hunters and warriors never left their wig-wams without bending
their bows, and little children were not permitted by their mothers to
gather berries or hickory nuts in the neighboring woods. The head chief
of the nation at that time, was _Sa-go-you-wat-ha_, or _Always Awake_.
He was a good man, and being sorely grieved at the unhappiness of his
people, he conceived the idea of securing a permanent peace. It was
true, he said, that his father had been a cruel and unpopular chief, but
he did not think it right that the generation which followed his father
should be made miserable for crimes never committed by them. And
therefore it was that he prayed to the _Great Ha-nee_ to tell him, in a
dream, what he must do to accomplish his end. Night came, and in spite
of his name, _Always Awake_ fell into a deep sleep and had a dream.
He was told that in the direction whence came the warm winds of summer,
and distant from his village a journey of one moon, there was a very
large mountain. On the summit of that mountain, as he was told, were
living a few people from all the nations of the earth, excepting the
Senecas. The place alluded to was called the _Mountain of Refuge_, and
it was so sacred a place, that its soil had never been wet with human
blood, and the people who lived there, were the peculiar favorites of
the Great Ha-nee, and were the law makers of the world. The dream also
told the Seneca chief, that he could secure a permanent peace only by
visiting the sacred mountain; but as the intervening distance was so
great, and his trail would be only among enemies, the dangers of the
expedition would be very numerous. By traveling at night, however, and
sleeping in the day time, the task might be accomplished, and he was at
liberty to try _his_ fortune.
_Always Awake_ pondered a long time upon this strange vision, but
finally determined to start upon the appointed expedition. Great was the
fatigue that he endured, and oftentimes was he compelled to satisfy his
hunger with the roots and berries of the forest. Many a narrow escape
did he make from his enemies; but in due time he reached the Mountain of
Refuge. He was warmly welcomed among the Indians of the mountain, and
when he told his story and talked of peace, they honored him with many a
loud shout of applause. A council was held, and a decree passed, to the
effect that the important question at stake should be settled by another
council composed of the head chiefs of all the Indian nations in the
land. The fleetest runners were employed to disseminate the news, and at
the appointed time the council of chiefs was held. They formed
themselves into a confederacy, and with one exception, the nations of
the wilderness became as one people, and so continued until the white
man crossed the great waters and taught them the vices which have almost
consumed them from the face of the earth. The only nation that would not
join the confederation was the Osage nation, and because of their
wickedness in so doing, they were cursed by the Great Ha-nee, and have
ever since been a by-word and a reproach among their fellows.
And when the Seneca chief returned to his own country, he was very
happy. His trail through the forests and over the mountains was lined
with bonfires, and in every village that he tarried, he was feasted with
the best of game. One moon after he returned to his people he died and
was buried on the banks of the beautiful lake where he lived; and ever
since that time the Great Ha-nee has permitted his people to live upon
the land inherited from their fathers.
ORIGIN OF THE DEER.
A SHAWNEE LEGEND.
Wa-pit-pa-taska, or the Yellow Sky, was the daughter of a Shawnee or
Snake hunter. His lodge was not one of the handsomest in the village
where it stood, but the paths leading to it were more beaten than those
leading to any other, for the daughter of the hunter was a great
favorite among the young men of her tribe. The exploits of those who
sought her hand had no charm for her ear, and her tastes were strangely
different from those common among women. She knew that she had not many
years to live upon the earth, and her dreams had told her she was
created for an unheard-of mission. There was a mystery about her being,
and none could comprehend the meaning of her evening songs. On one
condition alone did she avow her willingness to become a wife, and this
was, that he who became her husband should never, under any
circumstances, mention her name. If he did so, a sad calamity would
befall him, and he would forever thereafter regret his thoughtlessness.
By this decree was the love of one of her admirers greatly enhanced, and
before the summer was gone the twain were married and dwelt in the same
lodge.
Time flew on and the Yellow Sky sickened and died, and her last words
were that her husband should never forget her admonition about breathing
her name. The widower was very unhappy, and for five summers did he
avoid his fellow men, living in solitude, and wandering through the
forests alone. The voices of autumn were now heard in the land, and the
bereaved husband had, after his many journeyings, returned to the grave
of his wife, which he found overgrown with briers and coarse weeds. For
many moons had he neglected to protect the remains of his wife, and he
now tried to atone for his wickedness by plucking up the briers and
covering the grave with a soft sod. In doing this he was discovered by a
stranger Indian, who asked him whose grave it was of which he was taking
so much care? “It is the grave,” said he, “of _Wa-pit-pa-taska_;” and
hardly had the forbidden name (which he thoughtlessly uttered) passed
from his lips, before he fell to the earth in a spasm of great pain. The
sun was setting, and his bitter moans echoed far through the gloomy
woods, even until the darkness settled upon the world.
Morning came, and near the grave of the Yellow Sky a large buck was
quietly feeding. It was the unhappy husband, whom the Great Spirit had
thus changed. The trotting of a wolf was heard in the brake, and the
deer pricked up his ears. One moment more, and the wolf started after
the deer. The race was very long and painful, but the deer finally
escaped. And thus from a man came into existence the beautiful deer, or
_mu-rat-si_; and because of the foolishness of this man, in not
remembering his wife’s words, the favorite animal of the Shawnee has
ever been at the mercy of the wolf.