There once lived in the Osage country an Indian whose name was
_Koo-zhe-ge-ne-cah_; or _The Distant Man_. He had been a famous warrior
and hunter, but time had weakened his arm and lifted a mist before his
eye. His wives were all dead, and the only one of his kindred left upon
earth to minister to his wants was a little damsel, his grandchild, and
the joy of his old age. The twain were much beloved by all their tribe,
and when journeying across the broad prairies they were always supplied
with the gentlest of horses, and they never had to ask the second time
for their favorite food. Whenever the tribe came to a halt on the bank
of a river, in a country abounding in game, the first tent-poles planted
in the ground were those belonging to the Distant Man and his child, and
their tent always stood next to that of the chief.
It was midsummer, and the entire Osage nation was encamped upon a plain
at the foot of a mountain, covered to the very summit with rich grass
and brilliant flowers. The last hunts had been successful, and in every
lodge was to be found an abundance of buffalo and deer meat. Feasting
and merrymaking, dancing and playing ball, were the chief employments of
the hour throughout the entire village, while in every direction upon
the prairies the horses, with their feet hobbled, were cropping their
sweet food. The children and the dogs sported upon the green together,
and many a laugh resounded long and loud. The sun was near his setting,
when suddenly an unusual stillness pervaded the air. The people gathered
together in haste and wondered what it could all mean. The strange
silence caused them to listen with increased attention, when a distant
whoop came stealing along the air. It seemed to come from the
neighboring mountain, and as the multitude cast their eyes in that
direction, they saw a single horseman coming towards their encampment
with the speed of the wind. They waited in breathless expectation, and
were astonished at the boldness of the stranger in riding with such fury
directly into their midst.
He was mounted upon a black horse of gigantic size, with splendidly
flowing mane and tail, and an eye of intense brilliancy, and was
caparisoned in a most gorgeous manner. The stranger was clad from head
to foot with a dress of many colors, and from his hair hung a great
variety of the most curious plumes. He carried a lance, and to his side
were fastened a bow and a quiver of arrows. He was in the prime of life,
and his bearing was that of a warrior chief. He avowed himself the son
of the Master of Life, and his home to be in the Spirit Land. He said
that there was a woman in that land who had told him that the most
beautiful maiden in the Osage nation was her daughter. From other lips
also had he heard that she was good as well as beautiful, and that her
only protector and friend was an old man named _Koo-ze-ghe-ne-cah_. He
had asked for a dream that he might see this being of the earth. Having
seen her, and being in want of a wife, he was now come to demand her of
her venerable parent, and forthwith rode to the door of his tent to make
a bargain. The stranger dismounted not from his horse, but talked with
the old man leaning upon the neck of his noble animal, the maiden
meanwhile sitting in pensive quietness within her tent door, working a
pair of moccasins. The old man doubted the stranger’s words, and desired
him to prove that he was the son of the Master of Life. “What sign of my
nature and power would you witness?” inquired the stranger. “That you
would cover the heavens with thick darkness, picture it with lightning,
and fill the air with loud thunder,” replied the old man. “Do this, and
my daughter shall be your bride.” Suddenly a storm arose, and the sign
was fulfilled to the utmost extent, so that the entire nation were
stricken with fear. Night came on, the sky was without a cloud, but
spangled with stars, and the air was perfectly serene, and when the
stranger and his steed were sought for, it was found that they had
disappeared. Peace rested upon the Osage village, and the oldest men of
that tribe never enjoyed a more refreshing sleep than on that memorable
night.
On the following day everything about the Osage encampment wore its
ordinary aspect, and the events of the previous day were talked over as
people talk of their dreams. The old man and the maiden made an offering
to the Master of Life, and while the former, before the assembled
nation, promised to give up his child, she, in her turn, expressed her
entire willingness to become the bride of the stranger, should he ever
return. Not only was she prompted to do this by the honor conferred upon
her, and also by the nobleness of the stranger, but she thought it would
make her so happy to rejoin her long departed mother in the spirit land.
She was only troubled about the feeble old man, whom she dearly loved;
but when the whole nation promised, as with one voice, to make him the
object of their peculiar care, she was satisfied.
Again was the sun in the western horizon. Again did the stranger appear
mounted as before. But as he entered the village, there trotted by his
side a white horse of exceeding beauty, decked from forelock to tail
with the richest and rarest of ornaments. He had come for his bride, and
was impatient to be gone. He led the white horse to the tent of the girl
he loved, and throwing at her feet a dress of scarlet feathers, he
motioned her to prepare for a long journey. When she was ready, he
motioned to the white horse to fall upon his knees, and the maiden
leaped upon his back. The twain then walked their horses to the
outskirts of the village, and as they passed along the stranger took
from his quiver and tossed into the hands of the Osage chief and each of
his warriors and hunters, a charmed arrow, which, he said, would enable
them not only to subdue their enemies, but also supply them with an
abundance of game, as long as they roamed the prairies. The stranger now
gave a whoop and the horses started upon the run. Their path lay over
the mountain, where the stranger had been first seen. They flew more
swiftly than the evening breeze, and just as the sun disappeared, they
reached the summit of the mountain and also disappeared, as if received
into the bosom of a golden cloud.