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diff --git a/25794.txt b/25794.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebd8930 --- /dev/null +++ b/25794.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5828 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Legends of Minnesota, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Indian Legends of Minnesota + +Author: Various + +Editor: Mrs. Cordenio A. Severance + +Release Date: June 14, 2008 [EBook #25794] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN LEGENDS OF MINNESOTA *** + + + + +Produced by K. Nordquist, David Edwards, grythumn (harvested +missing illustrations from Internet Archive), Diane Monico, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: (cover)] + +[Illustration: MINNEHAHA. (_Frontispiece._)] + + + + +INDIAN LEGENDS OF +MINNESOTA + + +COMPILED BY + +MRS. CORDENIO A. SEVERANCE + + +"Then a darker, drearier vision +Passed before me vague and cloudlike; +I beheld our nation scattered, +All forgetful of my council, +Weakened, warring with each other: +Saw the remnant of our people +Sweeping westward, wild and woful, +Like the cloud rack of a tempest, +Like the withered leaves of Autumn!" + + +D. D. MERRILL COMPANY + +NEW YORK AND SAINT PAUL + + + + +COPYRIGHTED, 1893, + +D. D. MERRILL CO. + + + + +Dedication, + +TO + +MRS. FRANCIS B. CLARKE + +AND + +MR. DELOS A. MONTFORT, + +UNDER WHOSE INSPIRATION AND THROUGH WHOSE + +ASSISTANCE THIS UNDERTAKING HAS BEEN + +MADE POSSIBLE, THIS VOLUME IS + +RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + +THE LONE WAR-PATH. Elaine Goodale Eastman, 9 + +FOND HEARTS OF THE FOREST, 22 + +ANPETUSAPA, 32 + +WINONA, 48 + +THE PEACE-PIPE QUARRY. Adelaide George Bennett, 77 + +THE SONG OF HIAWATHA. Henry W. Longfellow, 86 + +HIAWATHA'S WOOING. Henry W. Longfellow, 91 + +THE RIVER-LAKE. E. L. Fales, 95 + +SONG OF A NADOWESSEE CHIEF. Sir E. L. Bulwer, 97 + +"MAHNUSATIA." Fannie L. Stone, 99 + +THE DESCENDING STAR. Ida Sexton Searls, 126 + +THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. Adelaide George Bennett, 132 + +NOPA. Ida Sexton Searls, 136 + +THE SEA-GULL, 139 + +SWEET WATER, 162 + +DEATH OF WINONA. H. L. Gordon, 171 + +THE LEGEND OF THE MOCCASIN FLOWER. Ida Sexton Searls, 175 + +NOTES, 179 + + + + +PREFACE. + + +In presenting to the public this volume the compiler wishes to disown +any attempt at a complete collection of Indian legends; both her +knowledge of archaeology, and the time allowed for the completion of +the work are inadequate to such an achievement. She has attempted to +gather the more noticeable legends already in verse in order to +stimulate interest in the scenery and romance of her State. From its +name--Minnesota--to its floral emblem--the moccasin flower--the State +everywhere bears the impress of former occupation. About every lake, +forest, and valley clings the aroma of romance in the form of name or +legend of the vanished Red Man. + +The indistinct memory of his loves, wars, and adventures is growing +rapidly fainter, until even the story-teller himself is confused as to +the relation between event and locality. It has therefore seemed wise +to link indissolubly scene and incident, that the poetry of those who +have here lived and loved may not be completely displaced by the +prosaic commerce of the white man. + +The compiler wishes also to express her thanks to the writers who have +allowed their works to reappear in this volume: To Rev. E. D. Neill, +D.D., for much valuable counsel, and to Houghton, Mifflin & Co., for +permission to make extracts from Hiawatha. + + + + +INDIAN LEGENDS. + + * * * * * + +The Lone War-Path. + +A STORY OF SIOUX AND BLACKFOOT. + + +O'er a vast prairie stoops the sultry night; +The moon in her broad kingdom wanders white; +High hung in space, she swims the murky blue. +Low lies yon village of the roaming Sioux-- +Its smoke-stained lodges, moving toward the west, +By conquering Sleep invaded and possessed. + +All there, save one, own his benign command; +Their chief has lately left this little band, +And up the glittering path of spirits fled; +Thus his young widow, not a twelvemonth wed, +In yonder solitary tent conceals +The aching hope, the trembling pangs she feels. + +How breathless is the night! None saw it rise-- +That black cloud stealing up the glassy skies-- +Till threatening murmurs, loud and louder grown, +Burst from its swelling bosom, and the moon +Slips into brief oblivion, while a glare +As of far, flickering torches, seems to bear +The challenge of the gods. Awake, awake! +Make ready for the tempest, ere it break! +Drive tent-pins deeper, stretch the covering tight-- +Hobble the ponies, scattering in affright +Before the thunder-peals. When all is fast, +Keep vigil, then, till the gods' wrath be past! + +A sudden fury sweeps the somber plain, +In dizzy slant descends the sheeted rain; +Sharp lightnings rend in twain the sable gloom, +While, cannon-like, the unchained thunders boom! +On this wild tumult of the angry skies +No ear discerns a woman's thrilling cries; +Yet, ere its sullen echoes die away +In caverns where the mocking spirits play, +Faint, but rejoicing, on a couch of skins, +A new-made mother lays her lusty twins! + +The wise men of the tribe strange signs relate-- +This stormy birth portends a stormy fate-- +And since the warring heavens, that should affright, +Called forth these daring boys on such a night, +Their names must own the event that marked their birth-- +The elder, "As-he-walks-he-shakes-the-earth," +The younger twin, "Coming-his-voice-is-heard"-- +Thus saith the oracle. + + This mighty word +Darkens the mother's heart with nameless dread, +But casts no shadow on the unconscious head +Of either sturdy twin. Their mutual play +With joyous echoes fills the livelong day! +From helpless infancy to boyhood grown, +One brother never had been seen alone, +Till sudden sorrow bowed the mother's pride-- +The elder sickened and untimely died. + +The gossips point to him that's left alone-- +"He, too, will die, for half himself is gone!" +At first, distraught he seemed--unlike a child; +He ate not, slept not, neither spoke nor smiled. +Then sought the forest--wandered there alone +For days--his tender mother frantic grown-- +Till he returned to her, and smiling, said, +"My spirit meets and talks with him that's dead!" +Thenceforth he seemed as one who, hand-in-hand, +Walks with a brother in the spirit land. + +Among the Sioux, in those heroic days, +When certain valor gained the meed of praise, +The seasoned warrior, old and full of scars, +Counted the hero of a hundred wars, +Yet craving higher honor, went alone, +On foot, to meet the enemy, and won +(If he returned victorious), on that day +A proud distinction. + + Fancy her dismay,-- +The mother of a tender youth untried,-- +When he, the twin we know of, seeks her side +And murmurs in her ear, who loves him so,-- +"Mother, my elder brother bids me go +On a lone war-path." Knowing well 'twere vain +To plead with him, her tears must fall like rain +On 'broidered moccasins for those dear feet; +His pouch, her choicest store of pounded meat +Must fill before the dawn, which sends him forth +On foot, alone, to pierce the savage north. + + +(DAKOTA WAR SONG.) + +_I hear them coming who made thee weep![A] + Leap on thy father's steed + And urge him to his utmost speed, +And rush to meet the warlike host, +And meet them first, who hurt thee most. +Strike one among ten thousand, + And make but one to bleed! +So shall thy name be known, +Through all the world be known, + If one is made to bleed! + Heh-eh-eh-eh! Heh!_ + +Now to the journey gallantly addressed, +(Still at his twin's mysterious behest), +He kills a buck with branching horns, and takes +The tongue and heart for food--then straightway makes +A sacrifice to that stern deity-- +The thunder-god--who rules his destiny. +On a fair, level spot, encompassed round +With trees, he pins the carcass to the ground; +Prays for success, his burning heart's desire,-- +Then sleeps beside the embers of his fire. + +How wearisome, how long the painful days +That follow, as he treads by unknown ways +A mazy wilderness, where lurk unseen +All perils challenging his eye-sight keen. +Yet on--with tattered shoes and blistering feet-- +To find the savage foe he longs to meet! +At last, to wearied eyes that search in vain, +The far-off meeting-place of sky and plain, +A fleck of dazzling whiteness doth appear. +The youth exclaims, "My enemy is near!" +Toward that white gleam his cautious steps are bent, +Surely some roving Blackfoot's lonely tent. + +Nearer and nearer creeps, with cat-like tread, +The watchful Sioux. Above his lowered head +The plumy grasses rear a swaying crest; +His sinuous motion ripples the broad breast +Of this ripe prairie, like a playful wind +That leaves its shining, silver track behind. + +A tent of skins--that piercing eye saw true-- +Wondrously white and beautifully new; +In all the colors known to savage art, +A life-size figure with a blood-red heart +Guards the low door. But who shall more divine, +Since not a thread of smoke, nor sound, nor sign +Of human presence makes the story clear, +Save yonder dappled ponies grazing near? + +Crouched in deep grass the wily Indian lies, +Ambitious that lone hunter to surprise-- +His gaze the wide horizon ranges low +For the first glimpse of his returning foe; +The painted lodge full many a glance doth win-- +Each moment may reveal who lurks within! + +At last it moves--that swinging oval door-- +At last she steps upon the prairie floor, +Shading her dark eyes from the dazzling ray-- +A dusky princess, lovelier than the day! +No matron, to her hidden foeman's sight, +Has ever seemed so radiantly bright. +Her dress is rich, in style unlike the Sioux. +(These belles in doe-skin have their fashions, too!) + +On either shoulder lies a jetty braid; +Her slender form, most delicately made, +Her deep, black eyes and winsome features miss +Naught of proportion. What a conquest this! +To such an enemy who would not bow? +Truly our warrior is a captive now! +Vainly she gazes--turns and disappears, +His beating heart our youthful hero hears! +Rashly he thinks to follow and surprise +This charming stranger--carry off the prize +Before her lord's return. By impulse led, +To the low door he stoops his stately head, +Flings a last hurried glance to left and right, +Then enters, and beholds this beauty bright +Seated upon a pile of costly skins, +Embroidering her hunter's moccasins! +He stands abashed--she glances up to greet +His hasty entrance with a smile so sweet, +Then drops her lashes with such coquetry. +Amazed, he thinks, "No mortal woman she, +Who does not fear a stranger entering so! +Rather some teasing fairy, or a doe +In woman's form." +Abruptly he exclaims +"What are you--a Dakota?" As he names +That warlike tribe, at last she starts, and shakes +Her head; then with her slender fingers makes, +Slowly, the signs all tribes of Indians know-- +"I do not speak your language." + + "Is it so? +Where is your husband?" asks our hero young, +In this same silent, yet most graphic tongue. +"I am the daughter of a Blackfoot chief, +Whose home is three days' journey north. In brief, +My brother is a hunter. I am here +To keep his lodge, while he pursues the deer." +"Then I will leave you," he replies, "and when +Your brother comes, I shall return again!" +Thus saying, takes his leave; but, ere he goes, +One longing, lingering, backward glance he throws, +Which tells the maid how straight her arrow sped +To pierce the heart of him she else must dread. + + +(DAKOTA LOVE SONG.) + +_My heart is heavy--my heart is sore-- + I heard you were going away! + I wept all night--I wept all day-- +I wept till I could weep no more + When I heard you were going away + Far, far away! + O my heart! O my poor heart! + Heh-eh-eh-eh! Ho-o-o!_ + +Concealing in the grass his eagle plumes, +The patient Sioux his lonely watch resumes. +The reddening sun is low, when, far away, +He sees a moving speck. With its last ray +A handsome youth dismounts before the door. +His sister, as the custom was of yore, +Removes the body of the doe with speed, +Unsaddles, waters, pickets out his steed, +Leaving the wearied hunter to repose. +A film of smoke, dissolving as it goes, +Curls upward from the Blackfoot's lodge. + + At last, +The youthful pair have ended their repast, +And reappear without, to taste the cool +Of evening. All their sportive converse, full +Of meaning gestures, doth right well supply +Its story to their unseen watcher's eye, +Who through the night his tireless vigil keeps, +While, wrapt in dreams, the unconscious Blackfoot sleeps. + +At earliest dawn, in the chill morning gray, +Again the youthful hunter rides away; +And, when the sun mounts half way up the sky, +Her lover meets the Blackfoot maiden's eye. +Archly she greets him--"Laggard! why so late? +He whom you seek is gone--he could not wait!" +"But you--you told him not," the youth replies, +"Of my first visit!" In each other's eyes +They look and laugh; and in that laughter free +Dissolves the ancient, tribal enmity! +The wooing of an Indian is but brief. +He tells his tale, "My father was a chief-- +These eighteen years in yonder heaven he dwells." +The maiden's heart with awe and wonder swells +On hearing that mysterious name and birth +Which mark him as a being scarce of earth. +Then, too, his gallant height and handsome face, +Equipment strange, and bearing full of grace +Ensnare her fancy. + + When the bold demand +Comes from this hero for her heart and hand, +In blush and smile her answer may be guessed; +Yet, womanlike, she puts him to the test! +"Ere I consent, you must return with me +Unto my father's lodge. And first--but see +This raw-hide trunk. I pray you, creep inside--" +(All this by signs); "then you can safely hide! +I dread my brother's anger, when he hears +Our foeman asks me for a wife." + + Such fears +(Prettily figured, it may be), win with ease +The youth's consent to any scheme you please; +Danger, discomfort, ridicule--all three +This gallant wooer scorns, and smilingly +Consents to crowd his noble length of limb +Within the narrow space allotted him. + +Captive he lies, and, all defenseless, hears +The brother's late return. His jealous ears +Miss no least accent in the voice of each, +Yet glean so little from their foreign speech +That, spite of passion (knowing woman's art), +A spasm of dread contracts the hero's heart. +Suppose, while thus in helpless case he lay, +The maid his place of hiding should betray! +Clutching with iron grasp his trusty gun, +Scarce breathing, he awaits the morrow's sun. +Meanwhile, she prattles of adventures gay-- +Tells how a handsome stranger called that day, +Describes his splendid dress,--the arms he bore, +Such as no Blackfoot ever saw before; +But not a word her cunning lips let fall +Of love and courtship as the sum of all! + +At daybreak forth again the hunter fares, +But with his artful sister first prepares +A fresh surprise. When scarcely out of sight, +She hastens to relieve her captive knight; +And while he gladly tastes the savory fare +Which presently her willing hands prepare, +Stretches his cramped limbs to the grateful sun, +And drinks the favoring smiles so hardly won, +A sudden shadow falls athwart his feet-- +At last the war-like Sioux and Blackfoot meet. + +Surely the boy his sister's secret guessed, +Since only kindness dwells within his breast +Toward his ancestral foe. By friendly signs, +Each comely youth the other's thought divines; +Then suddenly exclaims the dauntless Sioux, +"Listen, my friend! I must return with you +To ask and win this maiden for my wife!" +"Return with us! not if you prize your life--" +The startled Blackfoot answers. "You must know +That all our tribe regard you as a foe; +My sister's suitors are as many now +As yonder leaves that twinkle on the bough. +Should a Dakota venture such a plea, +Our jealous youth would slay him instantly!" + +The youthful warrior merely smiles, and lays +His hand upon his gun, as one who says +"I can defend myself!" "Do you so prize +This thing?" demands the other in surprise. +"Set up a mark, and you shall shortly see +What sort of weapon 'tis I bear with me!" +"Take my white pony!" "No," his friend replies, +"Set up a willow wand." + + The bullet flies +Straight to its mark, and cleaves the target quite, +While youth and maiden, starting in affright, +Believe some heavenly wight this deed hath done-- +Doubtless the thunder's veritable son! +Convinced at last, the Blackfoot yields assent, +And leads the stranger to his father's tent. + +On the third evening, as the shadows fall, +The hospitable chief receives them all +In his great lodge, and listens to their tale +Of the brave Sioux, whose weapon cannot fail, +But, like the thunder, with mysterious roar, +Strikes enemies unseen. Well pleased before +With this fair stranger-youth's ingenuous face, +He bids him welcome with a courtly grace, +And on the morn proclaims to all his band +This warrior shall receive his daughter's hand. +The fiery Blackfeet, when this word they know, +Dart glances of dire hatred at their foe; +But, hold! the criers once again appear-- +"This foreign bridegroom hath a magic here! +Weapon like his no Blackfoot ever saw! +Bring forth a mark and then prepare with awe +To witness its destruction!" + + Scoffingly +Each brave presents his finest horse, while he +Accepts of one, and fires before them all. +Ah, pity! see the noble creature fall! +Hear its death-scream! + + Some trembled, others fled, +But all declared so fair a maid should wed +No less a brave than this. All cavil ceased; +And now began with joy the marriage feast. + + +(LOVE SONG.) + + _One day you will remember me-- + One day--one day! + You will at last remember me, + And say, +"I was so dear to her--so dear to her!" + Yeh-eh-eh-eh--; + You will remember me + One day! + Yeh-eh-eh-eh--!_ + +When the young hero carried home his bride, +He rode a pacing pony at her side; +Twelve others followed--costly loads they bore, +Rich robes and gifts--the Blackfoot maiden's dower. +On a lone war-path finding such a fate, +His triumph all the village celebrate; +Peace is declared between the tribes; and soon-- +Before the waxing of another moon-- +Guns, knives and blankets, prized past all belief, +Are sent as presents to the Blackfoot chief. + +Such is the tale by Indian camp-fires told-- +The old, old story that grows never old! + + ELAINE GOODALE EASTMAN. + + +[Footnote A: _I. e._, who slew thy father.] + +[Illustration] + + + + +Fond Hearts of the Forest. + +A LEGEND OF FOUNTAIN CAVE, NEAR ST. PAUL. + + +The hazy gloaming gathers round, +The silence mellows every sound, +The gentle wind, through foliage nigh, +Begins to breathe its plaintive sigh; +While o'er the hill creeps silver light, +Where calm and chaste the queen of night, +Awaking from her daily trance, +Doth charm all nature with her glance. +Her virgin train sweeps down the glade, +Kissing the cavern's mouth of shade; +She smiles upon the singing brook, +With sparkles filling every nook +That lurks about its dimpled face, +Giving its deepest shadows grace, +And breathing on its grassy mane +A gloss it ne'er can hope to gain +Beneath the sun's more kingly ray. +Weirdly the purling waters play +In her embrace; then break away +To vanish under bending boughs, +But giving voice to gurgling vows + +[Illustration: FOUNTAIN CAVE.] + +Of future tryst, of love again +Where meet the river banks and glen. +The moonlight vaults beyond the trees +To gain the river side, and sees +A dusky maiden sitting there, +Who twines her lovely raven hair, +And frequent lifts her melting eyes +To where the flashing ripple flies +Across the bosom of that glass +Where dancing stars nocturnal pass. +A princess of the wildwood she, +And graceful as the deer that flee +Till stricken by the light-winged shaft +So deadly from the hunter's craft. +The river sings beneath her feet; +It finds an echo in the sweet +And tender thought that throbs behind +The starry curtains of her mind. +And when the thrills that sweep her heart +Now from her tongue in music start, +The wavelets beating on the strand, +The murmuring leaves by zephyrs fanned, +The minor rhythms that wake the bowers +Of this fair glen when evening lowers, +And warbling birds' melodious throng, +All mingle with her low love song. +Her voice is all that's wild and sweet, +And slow must be that warrior's feet +Who would not speed with all his heart +To see her red lips meet and part. +Love moves her with his golden sway-- +A young and stalwart Chippewa +Has gained her heart, and kindred ties +And tribal feuds her love defies. +What cares she that her people hate +And his give back without abate? +What cares she that he is not Sioux? +If he but keep his promise true! +She sings an old song, passion-laden +By many a dead Dahkota maiden: + +_O where is my lodge--my love? + O where is the lord of my breast? +Reveal me, Great Spirit above, + The arms where my passion may rest! + +Brave warriors are thick as the leaves + That follow the wind in the fall; +Each maiden may think she receives + The smile of the noblest of all; + +But I know a chief who can slay + The panther and bear with his hand,-- +As warm and as proud as the day, + And braver than all in his band. + +In his sinewy arms I shall rest, + And hear his voice call me "sweet dove!" +O he is the lord of my breast! + With him is my lodge and my love!_ + +She stops! She turns with sudden start, +With troubled eyes and beating heart, +To the frowning bluffs, where warlike cries +And sound of savage revel rise. +The warriors of her tribe are there, +All dancing in the firelight glare. +Their spears with reeking scalps are clad, +Their thoughts are blood, their brains are mad; +Each yelling brave now only knows +Fierce hatred for his ancient foes. +They boast of all their deeds of might, +Of secret slaughter, deadly fight, +And woe to him who comes to meet +The lonely maid, Wenonah sweet, +If they his paddle's dip shall hear +Or after learn his presence near. +When their wild revel, to her fright, +Rose wilder with the fall of night, +She stole away and gained this place +To see again her lover's face. +She gazes on the distant shore, +But all is quiet as before. +Again she sings, her flute-like tones +So low that were the very stones +On which she rests her feet possessed +With sense to hear, what she confessed +In tuneful cadence would be lost +To them, for well she knows the cost +For him who loves her, if her thought +Be told aloud, and so there naught +Breaks on the air but melody. +If sung in words, her song would be: + +_My love is strong, my love is brave, + His heart is warm and true; +He soon will come across the wave + And bear me in his light canoe, +To be his queen and slave._ + +_To me he bowed his eagle plume, + He tamed his eagle eye, +And vowed his love would life consume + If I refused with him to fly, +His teepee to illume. + +O come, my chief! I watch--I wait! + I give up all for thee; +If thou wilt have an alien mate, + Wenonah longs that one to be, +That she may share thy fate. + +Come quickly, love, but make no sound, + My people are thy foes, +If thou shouldst here by them be found + A warrior's death thy life would close, +Thy soul be skyward bound. + +What then would poor Wenonah do + If she were left alone? +She scarce would see the hand that slew + Ere she would raise her death-chant tone, +And with thee perish too!_ + +She scans the echoing cliff once more, +Then turns to view the farther shore, +And bending low she strives to hear +Some sound to tell her he is near. +O'er all there seems to fall a hush +As tender as her cheek's warm blush. +So firmly rooted to the spot-- +As if she had all things forgot-- +She looks like some wild, charm-bound elf, +As lifeless as the moon itself. +But no! the parted lip and eye +Of flashing fire such thoughts belie, +And well and eloquent avow +The soul beneath that rigid brow. +O virgin heart! O passion bright! +That fills a glance with beauty's light. +O Wenijishid, happy thou, +Who surely will not tarry now! +A moment thus--then up she springs, +And now the song she softly sings +Floats o'er the water from her lip +To meet the constant, noiseless dip +Of Wenijishid's paddle blade. +How swift to greet the faithful maid +He comes! She waits, 'tween joy and fear, +While on he glides, each stroke more near. +Love gives him more than wonted strength, +And on the beach he leaps at length. +With trembling joy, with artless grace, +She springs into his glad embrace. +Within her brave young hero's arms +Forgot are all her past alarms. +One rapturous kiss with quick impress,-- +His burning hands her locks caress,-- +And then they gaze, at love's sweet will, +Eye into eye with answering thrill! +"Wenonah, darling, since we met, +Not once could I that smile forget +Which told me (more than words could tell) +The hopes that made this bosom swell +Were fair in our great Spirit's sight. +He, ere another moon's swift flight, +Shall bid me take thee to my home +And joy in thee, no more to roam." +Her trustful voice is low and clear, +And sweetest music in his ear: +"No chief is braver, none more bold +Than he whose neck my arms enfold. +He dares the light the moonbeams make +And danger courts for my poor sake. +Hark! Wenijishid, hearest thou not +Those yells of warning? Though this spot +Rests now beneath a peaceful spell, +How long 'twill so we cannot tell. +Thy heart is big, and like a rock +Will meet the blood-storm's awful shock; +But I am weaker--and I fear +For thee each moment thou art here. +Behold how now the moonlight meets +And with a kiss each ripple greets; +Wenonah's heart, o'erflowed with bliss, +Is wholly thine, and thine her kiss." +The radiance mingled with the shade-- +The murmur low by night winds made-- +The rune, harmonious and complete, +Of wavelets in their ceaseless beat-- +The fragrance given of sleeping flower-- +The brooding hush that fits the hour,-- +With this fair scene all these are met +To make the scene more lovely yet. +Wenonah's kiss would all confess, +It gives to beauty holiness; +The moments passing seem to be +Endowed with all eternity, +And in this lonely spot, love found +Brings the whole universe in bound! +But, hark! what sound the breezes bear +Turning her gladness to despair? +Wenonah trembles like a reed, +With hunted look she turns to plead: +"O Wenijishid, leave me, quick! +For dangers gather round thee thick. +We are discovered, and thy death +May hang upon each wasted breath. +Fly for thy life! Too late! too late! +Together we must meet our fate." +He smiles, and there with dauntless front +Would meet the coming foemen's brunt; +But she who will not leave his side +Bears in her hand his warrior pride, +And hopes of joyous life with her +Are sweeter than the battle's stir. +His war-whoop's taunt rings through the glen, +While answering come the cries of ten. +Wenonah clasps his brawny arm, +And lest his love might come to harm +He turns to where his birchen boat +Seems chafing to be set afloat; +And, ere their foes have gained the strand, +The light canoe beneath his hand +Leaps off before a foaming track. +He flings a yell of triumph back, +And grimly smiles as on he flies +To hear their disappointed cries; +Yet lest they may too soon pursue, +He urges on the flight anew. +He plies the paddle with a will, +They skim the waves,--but swifter still +A vengeful arrow cleaves the air, +To sink between his shoulders bare. +The shock is cruel, and the blade +Falls from his hand; his powers all fade +Like thought, and plunging on his face, +Deathlike he lies. Now to his place +Wenonah springs; with bloodless lip, +With gleaming eye and nervous grip, +She works the paddle with a force +Of which but love could be the source. +Beyond the range of bow, she flings +The blade aside and fiercely brings +Her wounded hero to her breast. +Now sadly called, now wildly pressed, +He breathes at last a feeble sigh, +And, feeling sure he will not die, +She labors strongly, full of hope +And nerved with any fate to cope. +She gains the shore, and stoutly bears +Her chief through brush and wild beast lairs. +All through the night she speeds her flight. +To where his people's fires burn bright. +When friendly, helping hands are found, +And she has given him to their care, +She sinks upon the leafy ground, +Panting like a hunted hare. +Her faithful powers have filled their task, +Their sacred trust no more need ask, +And now the goal is gained, they bind +Oblivion's charm around her mind. + + * * * * * + +Young life is pliant, love will give +A mighty motive still to live. +And when he wakes, with deep surprise +He meets the dark and glorious eyes +Of dear Wenonah on him bent +In passion's hope absorbed, content. + + * * * * * + +Since this took place it is not known +How many changing moons have flown; +Yet still, when Luna's rapiers bright +Pierce through the tenuous robe of Night, +And shining on the stilly shore +Create again that scene of yore, +Wenonah and her lover true +Pass over in their white canoe; +Their spirit forms unshadowed glide +Across the rapid, glistening tide. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Anpetusapa. + +A LEGEND OF ST. ANTHONY FALLS. + + +'Tis autumn, and the breezes lift +Their melancholy tones; +'Tis evening: through each passing rift +The stars, like precious stones +In lustrous beauty (clouded soon), +Sweet incense to the sight, +Attend their white-robed mistress moon, +Queen of romantic night. +Anon, as the cloud hosts fly +Before the wind across the sky, +The court of the queen is suddenly seen, +With its pomp sublime and array +Of sparkling and glittering sheen, +More lovely than the light of day, +More glorious than the twilight gleam +That mingles with the sun's last beam +Where the waves of ocean play. + +By the river's bank a wandering band +Have reared their teepee walls, +Here where the warriors all may stand +And view the mighty falls. +The ivory moon is mounting high, +The lodge fires flicker low, +And slumbering forms are visible by +The embers' last faint glow, +When lightly steps a youthful brave +Out from the forest ways +Into the star-roofed nave, +Out from the shadowing trees +(Leaves fluttering slow in the slow night breeze) +Into the broad, revealing rays, +Into the silvery glow. +With step as buoyant as the air +He glides above the glistening sward; +The largest, whitest teepee there +Doth seem to center his regard, +For there his unmarked path doth end, +And there his burning glances send +Their passionate lightnings, wild, yet all +Made reverent by the spot on which they fall. +This lodge doth tower +Above the poles on every hand +Like some strange chieftain o'er his band. +Why comes he at this hour? +Hath dark revenge a purpose here? +Shall bloody strife appear +On such a scene? Ah, no! the power +That spurs him hath a softer spell; +For here the tribe's most cherished flower, +The daughter of the chief, doth dwell. + +His deep, rich voice floats down the glade, +In soft, unwonted tones +Like gentle winds through pine-tree cones; +He sings the Warrior's Serenade; +While at the end of every strain-- +With more effect his cause to plead-- +He plays a wild and shrill refrain +Upon a flute of rude-cut reed. + +_Lonely warbling bird of night! + Leave thy bough and perch above +The silent, dewy folds of white + That screen my sleeping love. +Drink the moonlight rays that fall + Pure and mellow, like the beams +Of starry eyes beyond my call, + Far in the land of dreams. +Tell her I am brave and strong; +Tell her I have loved her long; + Singing softly, like a dove, + Tell her all you know of love +I cannot tell in song. + +Tell her I am waiting here + At the threshold of her bower; +Winds are lifting far and near + The sweets of every flower, +All the stars are out in state, + Music breathes in every stir, +All of nature seems to wait + For a glimpse of her. +Tell her I am brave and strong; +Tell her I have loved her long; + Singing softly like a dove, + Tell her all you know of love +I cannot tell in song._ + +Is it the wind that swings apart +The deerskin door from the lodge away? +Is it a sudden leap of his heart +That makes too vivid fancy play? +Or is it a nut-brown arm that holds +The trembling folds, +And are those liquid eyes that shine +Like diamonds fine? +Sing on, sing on, bold youth, +And hope shall lead thee to the truth! + +_She is lovelier than the sky, + Sweeter than the freshest bud, +I can no longer wait and sigh + Here in the moonlight flood; +All my heart is at her feet, + All my strength at her behest; +O sing, and bid her come to greet + The one who loves her best! +Tell her I am brave and strong; +Tell her I have loved her long; + Singing softly, like a dove, + Tell her all you know of love +I cannot tell in song._ + +His manly voice entreating calls +As softly as the dewdrop falls. +He ceases, and the night winds hush +As if they too had waited long; +The organ river's chanting rush +Seems but an echo of his song. +And shall he wait and plead in vain? +Ah, no! love is not always pain; +For see, the folds are drawn aside, +And dimly there may be descried +A shadowy form of shadowy grace, +That halts while still in gloom arrayed, +With eyes that light the tawny face +And tresses darker than the shade. + +O spell of song! O power and thrill +Of love! O dream that sways +The blood of youth, that feels no chill +Till love betrays! + +O hark! ye sprites that haunt this time,-- +This quiet moon-lit hour, +When Cupid weaves, in every clime, +His web of subtlest power,-- +O, can ye hear, and not rejoice, +The music of a maiden's voice? + +"Anpetusapa's glance would meet +The night bird that can sing so sweet." +With what a bounding stride he goes! +With what a light his dark eye glows! +With what a look he seeks to fire +Those gentle eyes with his desire! + +"O multiply what voice reveals; +The bird can sing not half it feels! +Too deep, too deep, to tell in words, +And even too sweet for song of birds, +Is passion like this heart of mine +Doth feel for thine!" + +She lightly steps into the light, +She gently lifts her gentle eyes, +She flies not, though her heart takes flight +And soars without disguise. + +"I know thee; thou art strong and tall, +Thy fearless deeds are known to all. +O may this eve be not more fair +Than life to thee, is all my prayer." + +His mighty sinews, sternly trained, +Are now with manly grace restrained, +And the fortunate touch of a fairy's wand +Far ruder would seem than the touch of his hand; +And the light of his eye like a streamlet doth flow +Where passion and tenderness mingle and flash +On the dancing ripples, whose murmuring low +From his lips seem to dash +A faithful, harmonious echo: + +"Of happiness all my life will tell +If thou in my lodge doth dwell. +Oh! couldst thou but know +The new, the glad, the tender glow +That warms my heart, so fiercely brave +When breasting battle's fiercest wave-- +Couldst thou but feel it pulse and bound +Whene'er my ear is charmed to hear +Thy gentle tongue's melodious sound-- +Couldst thou but see how these fond eyes +Rejoice to look upon thy face +When like a dream before them rise +Thy matchless form and wondrous grace-- +How deeply, thirstily they drink +Thy dew-bright eyes, whose flashing glance +Doth like a luring firefly dance +(Along an island's shadowy brink +Where rippling waters, restless waters, +Sing their low, unchanging song +Upon the pebbles all night long). +Thou art a flower whose smile hath made +A sunbeam pierce the forest shade; +Thou art a rose that fragrant grows +To beautify the darksome glade +And sweeten every breeze that blows. +Anpetusapa! wilt thou give +The promise that shall make me live +As I have never lived before? +I love thee, and the powers divine +Shall teach thy heart to pulse with mine, +And bless our union evermore +While moons shall pass or starlight shine." + +The guardian bosom of her lover +Serves well her modest blush to cover; +Her willowy arms about him twine +As closely as the greenwood vine +Doth hang upon the towering oak, +That holds it safe from every stroke +And proudly shelters the delicate form +From all the buffets of the storm. +The moon and every heavenly gem +Now seem to shine alone for them. + +O Time! why must thou speed away? +For knowest thou not that present joy +Bears no increase for such as they, +For whom all change must bring alloy? +And thou, young Love! canst thou not make +A lonely Eden for their sake? +'Tis better that but two should find +Gladness of heart and peace of mind, +Than all the greater sum of life-- +With burning hearts that fates unbind +And crowding thoughts that gender strife. +But no, the gift of life is one +Of strangest form, of blended tints +And crossing lines, with mingled hints +Of glory from an unseen sun; +And shades that hourly darker grow +For those who seek that sun to know;-- +And they must take the whole or none. +So they must wake to memory +Of other things, so they must be +Reminded of the powers that hold +Their future lives, to rule and mold. + +"Anpetusapa need not name +The glory of her father's fame; +He is a mighty chief, and none +Too quickly will he choose a son." + +"O fear not, my blossom, + For he shall not see +The flower of his bosom + Mismated with me. +Where war-whoops are sounding + Their blood-stirring call, +There I shall go bounding + The foremost of all. +When foemen shall fly me + And chiefs call me brave, +He will not deny me + The boon I shall crave." + +"Yes, thou art brave for one so young; +This voice of mine thy feats hath sung +When from the war-path thou returned +On which thy first renown was earned. +If my poor love can make thy bliss, +My service give the happier life, +All hope shall dwell in one kind kiss +For thine eternal-loving wife." + +"O blessed promise! future bright! +This feeble tongue of mine can never +Reveal how dear thou art to-night, +How cherished thou shalt be forever!" + + * * * * * + +The chief approved the suitor bold, +And for rich goods his daughter sold. +She thought not of the trade, but went +To her young lord with true content, +And while she dreamed of joy to come +Her heart was full, her lips were dumb; +And day by day her task was wrought, +Each hour with self-denial fraught; +His wants were met, his lodge was trim, +Her patient thoughts were all for him. +The powers divine did seem to bless +The promise of his wild caress; +And so the happy moons flew by, +Till new refulgence filled her sky +When there appeared a baby boy, +Whose laugh o'erflowed her cup of joy; +For this must prove, she could but feel, +A bond between them strong as steel. + +Alas, thou too confiding wife, +What clouds were gathering o'er thy life! +For vanity alone will stay +With human nature to the last; +Each happy day will slip away +Into the valleys of the past, +Returning but a ghostly thing +When the spirit drinks at Memory's spring. + +Why did he vow to cherish ever? +Or why allow his heart to change? +What maid was she who came to sever +Thy love and thee? What magic strange +Had she to work her strange endeavor? +What mind shall solve the mystery +Of loves that come and loves that flee? +Why should Anpetusapa give +Her heart's whole life, her richest treasure, +To one whose boasted flame could live +Through but a dozen moons' small measure; +Whose passion was for selfish pleasure? + +Yet so it was; another came +Her heart to cloud, her place to claim. +Her lodge became another's nest; +The first wife, she was second now; +'Neath custom's yoke compelled to bow +And see her rival fondly pressed. +The death gloom settled on her brow, +Day brought no sun, the night no rest. +The beam of sadness lit her eye, +And memories that could never die +Until her body, void of breath, +Became the precious spoil of Death. +Morn after morn beheld her still +Slow sinking, like a mountain rill +Whose fountain-head, once bubbling bright, +Hath dried away, and left the white +And pulseless sand to mark where long +Began the sparkle and the song. + +One joy alone was left to bring +The heart-swept thrill of other days, +When to her baby she would sing +Her lullaby of love and praise; +And this, even this, renewed the thought +Of joyous hopes that came to naught. +Betrayed by faith, yet faithful to the last, +She murmured not; but patiently she passed +Each day in kindly service, given +As if her heart were all unriven, +Until at length heroic strength +Could bear no more. + + Upon the shore +Of wild Messipi's plunging flood, +Where they were camped so long before, +They camped again; again their blood +Marched to the music of its roar. + + * * * * * + +'Tis morning: every bird its matin sings +And beats the air with throbbing wings, +The air so sweet and quick; the glistening dew +Hangs crystal beauty on all verdant things,-- +Each trembling drop reflecting true +The overspread, unclouded blue; +While from the east the cohorts of the sun +With dazzling spears begin to strew +The morning vapors, damp and dun, +Whose melting ranks are closed anew +To vanish where the rapid waters run. + +Anpetusapa hides her woe +Until her husband and her foe +Have left the lodge and gone from sight. +Then with a tearless eye and bright, +She gazes madly round the place +Where every comfort bears the trace +Of wifely labor wrought with pain, +Of woman's love that lives in vain. +Here moccasins lie with bead-work gay; +Here on the wall the breezes sway +The music-breathing flute, +Whose lips are dry and mute, +While she who once inspired its tone +Now sits despairing and alone. +The very curls of smoke that rise +And mingle with the morning skies, +Are tokens of the duties done +Beneath the red eye of the rising sun. +Awhile she sits in cruel thought, +Till, with her anguish overwrought, +She flies to him who sweetly bears +The image of her faithless god, +And on each infant feature wears +The smiling hopes on which he trod. +Convulsively she clasps her child, +Whose love, alone left undefiled, +Is not enough to nerve her soul +Beneath its crushing weight of dole. + +She listens to the roaring water, +Whose voice she heard in music grand +When she was but the old chief's daughter, +When love such wondrous fortunes planned; +And ruthless phantoms of the past +Across her mind are flitting fast, +Each with a keen, envenomed dart +That poisons brain and tortures heart. +With breath too quick to lift a sigh, +With marble firmness on her brow, +With glassy wildness in her eye, +She seeks the river's margin now. +She springs into a birch canoe, +All beaded with the morning dew, +And clasping close her mother's pride, +Soon gains the middle of the tide. + +O hark! thou selfish one who gave +Embrace more treacherous than the wave: +Does not her song which mounts the air +Reproach thee with its grand despair? +Why dost thou hurry to the river? +Why dost thou call, why dost thou shiver, +While she whom thou hast driven away +Is bold amidst the chilly spray? +What good is all thy vain remorse? +Thinkst thou from jaws of death to force +A sacrifice so lightly thrust +Upon the altar of thy lust? +A host like thee could nothing urge +To meet one tone of her sad dirge: + +_My heart cannot live without loving; + My heart cannot give up its own; +No more will I linger with sorrow, + But follow the joys that have flown; +With Death I will rest me to-morrow + On a kind, dreamless bed of stone. + +I fear not the rush of the water, + For me all its terrors are vain; +It cannot bring less than gladness, + For it banishes all my pain; +I will sink with my burden of sadness + And mix with the earth again. + +My baby, my darling, my blossom, + Nor anguish nor falsehood shall know; +Together we cleave the wild billow-- + Unfaltering together we go +To rest on the same rocky pillow, + To slumber and mingle below._ + +Plunging on the sunlit stream, +The frail canoe, with trembling leaps, +Hurries toward the mists that gleam +To veil the awful steeps. +What need has she for any veil? +Despairing eyes will never quail! +See, now upon the glowing crest, +Where clouds of spray beneath her lie, +She clasps her boy upon her breast, +She gazes on the cloudless sky, +And in its blue depth seems to see +Death, robed in peaceful purity; +Then down into the boiling tomb +That makes for her the happiest doom. +How strange that peace should thus be found +Amid such tumult-breathing sound! +To leap from life and light, and find +A darkness sweeter to the mind! + + * * * * * + +Long shall the mists of morning show +The spirit of her who long ago +Wrapped them round her wearily-- +A victim of love and treachery. +Long shall her mournful death-song find +An echo in the moaning wind; +Long shall Dahkota legend bind +That echo with the roaring falls, +The ancient, foam-crowned, giant falls, +Whose voice so oft hath given +The welcome of its watery halls, +That lead the soul, when the Great Spirit calls, +To the hunting-grounds of heaven. +And though a child of the forest dark +Weary of life would here embark, +As to a portal hither comes,-- +And yet who may not pass this way +Into eternal joy and day,-- +The water hides and soon benumbs +The sorrow, and the cadence deep +Becomes a lullaby to hush +The spirit to its endless sleep +Beneath the surging rush, +Beneath the shrouding spray, +Where the tireless waters sweep +To their wild, unpausing leap-- +Then fly to the South away! +The flood is cold, but the heart is bold +When the future that lives new sorrow gives; +And within the chamber halls +Of the grand and solemn falls +May be found a sleep so sweet and deep +That its darkness never palls, +While ages pass with silent creep. +Time hath no tooth to tear +The heart whose pulse is dead, +And sorrow may live in the air +But not in the river-bed! +I ween all peacefully there +Is pillowed forever the head +Of a woman whose heart was fair, +Though her cheeks were dusky red. + + + + +Winona. + + +PART I. + +Winona,[1] first-born daughter, was the name +Of a Dakota girl who, long ago, +Dwelt with her people here unknown to fame. +Sweet word, Winona, how my heart and lips +Cling to that name (my mother's was the same +Ere her form faded into death's eclipse), +Cling lovingly, and loth to let it go. +All arts that unto savage life belong +She knew, made moccasins, and dressed the game. +From crippling fashions free, her well-knit frame +At fifteen summers was mature and strong. +She pitched the tipi,[2] dug the tipsin[3] roots, +Gathered wild rice and store of savage fruits. +Fearless and self-reliant, she could go +Across the prairie on a starless night; +She speared the fish while in his wildest flight, +And almost like a warrior drew the bow. +Yet she was not all hardness: the keen glance, +Lighting the darkness of her eyes, perchance +Betrayed no softness, but her voice, that rose +O'er the weird circle of the midnight dance, +Through all the gamut ran of human woes, + +[Illustration: MAIDEN ROCK, LAKE PEPIN.] + +Passion, and joy. A woman's love she had +For ornament; on gala days was clad +In garments of the softest doeskin fine, +With shells about her neck; moccasins neat +Were drawn, like gloves, upon her little feet, +Adorned with scarlet quills of porcupine. +Innocent of the niceties refined +That to the toilet her pale sisters bind, +Yet much the same beneath the outer rind, +She was, though all unskilled in bookish lore, +A sound, sweet woman to the very core. + +Winona's uncle, and step-father too, +Was all the father that she ever knew; +By the Absarakas[4] her own was slain +Before her memory could his face retain. +Two bitter years his widow mourned him dead, +And then his elder brother she had wed. +None loved Winona's uncle; he was stern +And harsh in manner, cold and taciturn, +And none might see, without a secret fear, +Those thin lips ever curling to a sneer. +And yet he was of note and influence +Among the chieftains; true he rarely lent +More than his presence in the council tent, +And when he rose to speak disdained pretence +Of arts rhetoric, but his few words went +Straight and incisive to the question's core, +And rarely was his counsel overborne. +The Raven was the fitting name he bore; +And though his winters well-nigh reached three-score, +Few of his tribe excelled him in the chase. +A warrior of renown, but never wore +The dancing eagle plumes, and seemed to scorn +The vanities and follies of his race. + +I said the Raven was beloved by none; +But no, among the elders there was one +Who often sought him, and the two would walk +Apart for hours, and converse alone. +The gossips, marveling much what this might mean, +Whispered that they at midnight had been seen +Far from the village, wrapped in secret talk. +They seemed in truth an ill-assorted brace, +But Nature oft in Siamese bond unites, +By some strange tie, the farthest opposites. +Gray Cloud was oily, plausible, and vain, +A conjurer with subtle scheming brain; +Too corpulent and clumsy for the chase, +His lodge was still provided with the best, +And though sometimes but a half welcome guest, +He took his dish and spoon to every feast.[5] + +Priestcraft and leechcraft were combined in him, +Two trades occult upon which knaves have thriven, +Almost since man from Paradise was driven; +Padding with pompous phrases worn and old +Their scanty esoteric science dim, +And gravely selling, at their weight in gold, +Placebos colored to their patients' whim. +Man's noblest mission here too oft is made, +In heathen as in Christian lands, a trade. +Holy the task to comfort and console +The tortured body and the sin-sick soul, +But pain and sorrow, even prayer and creed, +Are turned too oft to instruments of greed. +The conjurer claimed to bear a mission high: +Mysterious omens of the earth and sky +He knew to read; his medicine could find +In time of need the buffalo, and bind +In sleep the senses of the enemy. +Perhaps not wholly a deliberate cheat, +And yet dissimulation and deceit +Oozed from his form obese at every pore. +Skilled by long practice in the priestly art, +To chill with superstitious fear the heart, +And versed in all the legendary lore, +He knew each herb and root that healing bore; +But lest his flock might grow as wise as he, +Disguised their use with solemn mummery. +When all the village wrapped in slumber lay, +His midnight incantations often fell, +His chant now weirdly rose, now sank away, +As o'er some dying child he cast his spell. +And sometimes through his frame strange tremors ran-- +Magnetic waves, swept from the unknown pole +Linking the body to the wavering soul; +And swifter came his breath, as if to fan +The feeble life spark, and his finger tips +Were to the brow of pain like angel lips. +No wonder if in moments such as these +He half believed in his own deities, +And thought his sacred rattle could compel +The swarming powers unseen to serve him well. +The Raven lay one evening in his tent +With his accustomed crony at his side; +Around their heads a graceful aureole +Of smoke curled upward from the scarlet bowl +Of Gray Cloud's pipe with willow bark supplied. +Winona's thrifty mother came and went, +Her form with household cares and burdens bent, +Fresh fuel adds, and stirs the boiling pot. +Meanwhile the young Winona, half reclined, +Plies her swift needle, that resource refined +For woman's leisure, whatsoe'er her lot, +The kingly palace or the savage cot. + +[Illustration] + +The cronies smoked without a sign or word, +Passing the pipe sedately to and fro; +Only a distant wail of hopeless woe, +A mother mourning for her child, was heard, +And Gray Cloud moved, as though the sound had stirred +Some dusty memory; still that bitter wail, +Rachel's despairing cry without avail, +That beats the brazen firmament in vain, +Since the first mother wept o'er Abel slain. +At length the conjurer's lips the silence broke, +Softly at first as to himself he spoke, +Till warmed by his own swarming fancies' brood +He poured the strain almost in numbers rude. + +[Illustration: "WHERE THROUGH A LAKE THE MISSISSIPPI FLOWS."] + + +THE COMBAT BETWEEN THE THUNDER-BIRDS +AND THE WATER-DEMONS. + +Gray Cloud shall not be as other men, +Dull clods that move and breathe a day or two, +Ere other clods shall bury them from view. +Tempest and sky have been my home, and when +I pass from earth I shall find welcome there. +Sons of the Thunder-Bird my playmates were, +Ages ago[6] (the tallest oak to-day +In all the land was but a grass blade then). +Reared with such brethren, breathing such an air, +My spirit grew as tall and bold as they; +We tossed the ball and flushed the noble prey +O'er happy plains from human footsteps far; +And when our high chief's voice to arm for war +Rang out in tones that rent the morning sky, +None of the band exulted more than I. + +A god might gaze and tremble at the sight +Of our array that turned the day to night; +With bow and shield and flame-tipped arrows all, +Rushing together at our leader's call, +Like storm clouds sweeping round a mountain height. +The lofty cliffs our warlike muster saw, +Hard by the village of great Wabashaw,[7] +Where through a lake the Mississippi flows; +Far o'er the dwelling of our ancient foes, +The hated Water-Demon[8] and his sons, +Cold, dark and deep the sluggish current runs. + +Up from their caverns swarming, when they heard +The rolling signal of the Thunder-Bird, +The Water-Demon and his sons arose, +And answered back the challenge of their foes. +With horns tumultuous clashing like a herd +Of warring elks that struggle for the does, +They lashed the wave to clouds of spray and foam, +Through which their forms uncouth, like buffaloes +Seen dimly through a morning mist, did loom, +Or isles at twilight rising from the shore. + +Though we were thirty, they at least fourscore, +We rushed upon them, and a midnight pall +Over the seething lake our pinions spread, +'Neath which our gleaming arrows thickly sped, +As shooting stars that in the rice-moon fall. +Rent by our beating wings the cloud-waves swung +In eddies round us, and our leader's roar +Smote peal on peal, and from their bases flung +The rocks that towered along the trembling shore. + +A Thunder-Bird--alas, my chosen friend, +But even so a warrior's life should end,-- +A Thunder-Bird was stricken; his bright beak, +Cleaving the tumult like a lightning streak, +Smote with a fiery hiss the watery plain; +His upturned breast, where gleamed one fleck of red, +His sable wings, one moment wide outspread, +Blackened the whirlpool o'er his sinking head. + +The Water-Demon's sons by scores were slain +By our swift arrows falling like the rain; +With yells of rage they sank beneath the wave +That ran all redly now, but could not save. +We asked not mercy, mercy never gave; +Our flaming darts lit up the farthest cave, +Fathoms below the reach of deepest line; +Our cruel spears, taller than mountain pine, +Mingled their life blood with the ruddy wave. + +The combat ceased, the Thunder-Birds had won. +The Water-Demon with one favorite son +Fled from the carnage and escaped our wrath. +The vapors, thinly curling from the shore, +Faint musky odors to our nostrils bore. +The air was stilled, the silence of the dead; +The sun, just starting on his downward path, +A rosy mantle o'er the prairie shed, +Save where, like vultures, ominous and still, +We clustered close, on sullen wings outspread; +And sometimes, with a momentary chill, +A giant shadow swept o'er plain and hill,-- +A Thunder-Bird careering overhead, +Seeking the track by which the foe had fled. + +While thus we hovered motionless, the sun +Adown the west his punctual course had run, +When lo, two shining points far up the stream +That split the prairie with a silver seam,-- +The fleeing Water-Demon and his son; +Like icicles they glittered in the beam +Still struggling up from the horizon's rim. +His sleeping anger kindled at the sight, +Our leader's eyes glowed like a flaming brand. +Thrilled by one impulse, all our sable band +Dove through the gathering shadows of the night +On wings outshaken for a headlong flight. +Anger, revenge, but more than all the thirst, +The glorious emulation to be first, +Stung me like fire, and filled each quivering plume. +With tenfold speed our sharp beaks cleft the gloom, +A swarm of arrows singing to the mark, +We hissed to pierce the foe ere yet 'twas dark. + +Still up the stream the Water-Demons fled, +Their bodies glowed like fox-fire far ahead; +But every moment saw the distance close +Between our thirsty spear-heads and our foes. +Louder the blast our buzzing pinions made +Than mighty forest in a whirlwind swayed; +The giant cliffs of Redwing speeding back, +Like specters melting from a cloudy wrack, +Melted from view in our dissolving track. +Kaposia's village, clustered on the shore, +With sound of snapping poles and tipis riven, +Vanished like swan's-down by a tempest driven. +Stung by our flight, the keen air smote us sore +As ragged hailstones; on, still on, we strained, +And fast and faster on the chase we gained, +But neck and neck the fierce pursuit remained, +Till close ahead we saw the rocky walls +O'er which the mighty river plunging falls,[9] +And at their base the Water-Demons lay: +The panting chase at last had turned to bay. +Then thrilled my nerves with more than mortal strength; +A breath of Deity was in the burst +That bore me out a goodly lance's length +To meet the Water-Demon's son accurst. +His evil horn clanged hollow on my shield +Just as my spear transfixed him through and through; +A moment towering o'er the foam he reeled, +Then sank beneath the roaring falls from view. +A dying yell that haunts me yet he gave, +And as he fell the crippled water coiled +About him like a wounded snake, and boiled, +Lashing itself to madness o'er his grave. + +We knew not where the parent Demon fled; +None of our spears might pierce his ancient mail, +Welded with skill demoniac scale on scale. +Some watery realm he wanders, and 'tis said +That he is changed and bears a brighter form, +And goodly sons again about him swarm; +And peace, 'tis but a hollow truce I know, +Now reigns between him and his ancient foe. +He hates me still, and fain would do me harm, +But neither man nor demon dares offend, +Who hath the cruel Thunder-Bird for friend. + +[Illustration] + + +PART II. + +Nature hath her _elite_ in every land, +Sealed by her signet, felt although unseen. +Winona 'mid her fellows moved a queen, +And scarce a youthful beau in all the band +But sighed in secret longing for her hand. +One only she distinguished o'er the rest, +The latest aspirant for martial fame, +Redstar, a youth whose coup-stick like his name +(Till recently he had been plain Chaske)[10] +Was new, fresh plucked the feathers on his crest. +Just what the feats on which he based his claim +To warlike glory it were hard to say; +He ne'er had seen more than one trivial fray, +But bold assurance sometimes wins the day. +Winona gave him generous credit, too, +For all the gallant deeds he meant to do. +His gay, barbaric dress, his lofty air +Enmeshed her in a sweet bewildering snare. +Transfigured by the light of her own passion, +She saw Chaske in much the usual fashion +Of fairer maids, who love, or think they do. +'Tis not the man they love, but what he seems; +A bright Hyperion, moving stately through +The rosy ether of exalted dreams. +Alas! that love, the purest and most real, +Clusters forever round some form ideal; +And martial things have some strange necromancy +To captivate romantic maiden fancy. +The very word "Lieutenant" hath a charm, +E'en coupled with a vulgar face and form, +A shriveled heart and microscopic wit, +Scarce for a coachman or a barber fit; +His untried sword, his title, are to her +Better than genius, wealth, or high renown; +His uniform is sweeter than the gown +Of an Episcopalian minister; +And "dash," for swagger but a synonym, +Is knightly grace and chivalry with him. + +Unnoted young Winona's passion grew, +Chaske alone the tender secret knew; +And he, too selfish love like hers to know, +Warmed by her presence to a transient glow, +Her silent homage drank as 'twere his due. +Winona asked no more though madly fond, +Nor hardly dreamed as yet of closer bond; +But chance, or Providence, or iron Fate +(Call it what name you will), or soon or late, +Bends to its purpose every human will, +And brings to each its destined good or ill. + + +THE GROVE. + +O'erlooking Minnetonka's shore, +A grove enchanted lured of yore, +Lured to their deepest woe and joy, +A happy maiden and careless boy; +Lured their feet to its inmost core, +Where like snowy maidens the aspen trees +Swayed and beckoned in the breeze, +While the prairie grass, like rippling seas, +Faintly murmuring lulling hymns, +Rippled about their gleaming limbs. + +There is no such charm in a garden-close, +However fair its bower and rose, +As a place where the wild and free rejoice. +Nor doth the storied and ivied arch +Woo the heart with half so sweet a voice +As the bowering arms of the wild-wood larch, +Where the clematis and wild woodbine +Festoon the flowering eglantine; +Where in every flower, shrub, and tree +Is heard the hum of the honey-bee, +And the linden blossoms are softly stirred, +As the fanning wings of the humming-bird +Scatter a perfume of pollen dust, +That mounts to the kindling soul like must; +Where the turtles each spring their loves renew-- +The old, old story, "coo-roo, coo-roo," +Mingles with the wooing note +That bubbles from the song-bird's throat; +Where on waves of rosy light at play, +Mingle a thousand airy minions, +And drifting as on a golden bay, +The butterfly with his petal pinions, +From isle to isle of his fair dominions +Floats with the languid tides away; +Where the squirrel and rabbit shyly mate, +And none so timid but finds her fate; +The meek hen-robin upon the nest +Thrills to her lover's flaming breast. +Youth, Love, and Life, 'mid scenes like this, +Go to the same sweet tune of bliss; +E'en the flaming flowers of passion seem +Pure as the lily buds that dream +On the bosom of a mountain stream. + +Such was the grove that lured of yore, +Overlooking Minnetonka's shore, +Lured to their deepest woe and joy +A happy maiden and careless boy,-- +Lured their feet to its inmost core; +Where still mysterious shadows slept, +While the plenilune from her path above +With liquid amber bathed the grove, +That through the tree-tops trickling crept, +And every tender alley swept. +The happy maiden and careless boy, +Caught for a moment their deepest joy, +And the iris hues of Youth and Love, +A tender glamour about them wove; +But the trembling shadows the aspens cast +From the maiden's spirit never passed; +And the nectar was poisoned that thrilled and filled, +From every treacherous leaf distilled, +Her veins that night with a strange alloy. + +Swift came the hour that maid and boy must part; +A glow unwonted, tinged with dusky red +Winona's conscious face as home she sped; +And to the song exultant in her heart, +Beat her light moccasins with rhythmic tread. +But at the summit of a little hill, +Along whose base the village lay outspread, +A sudden sense of some impending ill +Smote the sweet fever in her veins with chill. +The lake she skirted, on whose mailed breast +Rode like a shield the moon from out the west, +She neared her lodge, but there her quick eye caught +The voice of Gray Cloud, and her steps were stayed, +For over her of late an icy fear +Brooded with vulture wings when he was near. + +She knew not why, her eye he never sought, +Nor deigned to speak, and yet she felt dismayed +At thought of him, as the mimosa's leaf +Before the fingers touch it shrinks with dread. +She paused a moment, then with furtive tread +Close to the tipi glided like a thief; +With lips apart, and eager bended head, +She listened there to what the conjurer said. + +His voice, low, musical, recounted o'er +Strange tales of days when other forms he wore: +How, far above the highest airy plain +Where soars and sings the weird, fantastic crane, +Wafted like thistle-down he strayed at will, +With power almost supreme for good or ill, +Over all lands and nations near and far, +Beyond the seas, or 'neath the northern star, +And long had pondered where were best to dwell +When he should deign a human shape to wear. +"Whether to be of them that buy and sell, +With fish-scale eyes, and yellow corn-silk hair, +Or with the stone-men chase the giant game. +But wander where you may, no land can claim +A sky so fair as ours; the sun each day +Circles the earth with glaring eye, but sees +No lakes or plains so beautiful as these; +Nor e'er hath trod or shall upon the earth +A race like ours of true Dakota birth. +Our chiefs and sages, who so wise as they +To counsel or to lead in peace or war, +And heal the sick by deep mysterious law. +Our beauteous warriors, lithe of limb and strong, +Fierce to avenge their own and others' wrong, +What gasping terror smites their battle song +When, night-birds gathering near the dawn of day, +Or wolves in chorus ravening for the prey, +They burst upon the sleeping Chippeway;[11] +Their women wail whose hated fingers dare +To reap the harvest of our midnight hair; +Swifter than eagles, as a panther fleet, +A hungry panther seeking for his meat, +So swift and noiseless their avenging feet. + + * * * * * + +Dakota matrons truest are and best, +Dakota maidens too are loveliest." + +He ceased, and soon, departing through the night, +She watched his burly form till out of sight. +And then the Raven spoke in whispers low: +"Gray Cloud demands our daughter's hand, and she +Unto his tipi very soon must go." +Winona's mother sought to make reply, +But something checked her in his tone or eye. +Again the Raven spoke, imperiously: +"Winona is of proper age to wed; +Her suitor suits me, let no more be said." + +Winona heard no more; a rising wave +Of mingled indignation, fear, and shame +Like a resistless tempest shook her frame, +The earth swam round her, and her senses reeled; +Better for her a thousand times the grave +Than life in Gray Cloud's tent, but what could she +Against the stern, implacable decree +Of one whose will was never known to yield? + +Winona fled, scarce knowing where or how; +Fled like a phantom through the moonlight cool, +Until she stood upon the rocky brow +That overlooked a deep sequestered pool, +Where slumbering in a grove-encircled bay +Lake Minnetonka's purest waters lay. +Unto the brink she rushed, but faltered there-- +Life to the young is sweet; in vain her eye +Swept for a moment grove and wave and sky +With mute appeal. But see, two white swans fair +Gleamed from the shadows that o'erhung the shore, +Like moons emerging from a sable screen; +Swimming abreast, what haughty king and queen, +With arching necks their regal course they bore. +Winona marveled at the unwonted sight +Of white swans swimming there at dead of night, +Her frenzy half beguiling with the scene. +Unearthly heralds sure, for in their wake +What ruddy furrows seamed the placid lake. +Almost beneath her feet they came, so near +She might have tossed a pebble on their backs, +When lo, their long necks pierced the waters clear, +As down they dove, two shafts of purest light, +And chasing fast on their descending tracks, +A swarm of spirals luminous and white, +Swirled to the gloom of nether depths from sight. + +Then all was still for some few moments' space, +So smooth the pool, so vanished every trace, +It seemed that surely the fantastic pair +Had been but snowy phantoms passing there. +Winona hardly hoped to see them rise, +But while she gazed with half-expectant eyes, +The waters strangely quivered in a place +About the bigness of a tipi's space, +Where weirdly lighting up the hollow wave +Beat a deep-glowing heart, whose pulsing ray +Now faded to a rosy flush away, +Now filled with fiery glare the farthest cave. +A shapeless bulk arose, then, taking form, +Bloomed forth upon the bosom of the lake +A crystal rose, or hillock mammiform, +And round its base the curling foam did break +As round a sunny islet in a storm; +And on it poised a swiftly changing form, +With filmy mantle falling musical, +And colors of the floating bubble's ball, +Fair and elusive as the sprites that play, +Bright children of the sun-illumined spray, +'Mid rainbows of a mountain waterfall. +Then mingling with the falling waters came +In whispers sibilant Winona's name; +So indistinct and low that voice intense, +That she, half frightened, cowering in the grass +In much bewilderment at what did pass, +Till thrice repeated noted not its sense. + +She rose, and on the very brink defined, +Against the sky in silhouette outlined, +Erect before the Water-Demon stood. +Again those accents weird her wonder stirred, +And this is what the listening maiden heard: +"Thy fate, Winona, hangs on thine own choice +To scorn or heed the Water-Demon's voice. +Gone are thy pleasant days of maidenhood, +And evil hours draw nigh, but knowest thou not, +That what thou fleest is the common lot +Of all thy sisters? Thou must be the bride +Of one thou lovest not, must toil for him, +Watch for his coming, and endure his whim; +Must share his tent, and lying at his side +Weep for another till thine eyes grow dim. +And he, so fondly loved, will pass thee by +Indifferent with cold averted eye; +E'en he, whose wanton hands and hated arms +Have crushed the fair flower of thy maidenhood, +Will weary of thy swiftly-fading charms, +And seek another when thy beauty wanes. +Aha, thou shudderest; in thy tense veins, +Fierce and rebellious, leaps the mingling blood +Of countless warriors, high of soul and brave; +And would'st thou quench their spirit 'neath the wave? +Is Gray Cloud's life more dear to thee than thine? +The village sleeps, unguarded is his tent, +Thy knife is keen, and unto thee is lent +A spell to-night of potency malign. +Cradled in blissful dreams alone he lies, +And he shall stray so deep in sleep's dominions, +He would not waken though the rushing pinions +Of his own Thunder-Bird should shake the sky. +All freedom-loving spirits are with thee, +Strike hard and fear not as thou would'st be free; +Lest thine own hatred prove too weak a charm, +The Water-Demon's hate shall nerve thine arm." + +The Water-Demon sank and disappeared, +And faint and fainter fell those accents weird, +Until the air was silent as the grave, +Still as December's crystal seal the wave. +Homeward again Winona took her way. +How changed in one short hour! no longer now +The song-birds singing at her heart, but there +A thousand gnashing furies made their lair, +And urged her on; her nearest pathway lay +Over a little hill, and on its brow +A group of trees, whereof each blackened bough +Bore up to heaven as if in protest mute +Its clustering load of ghastly charnel fruit,[12] +The swaddled forms of all the village dead-- +Maid, lusty warrior, and toothless hag, +The infant and the conjurer with his bag, +Peacefully rotting in their airy bed. +As on a battle plain she saw them lie, +Fouling the fairness of the moonlit sky; +And heavily there flapped above her head, +Some floating drapery or tress of hair, +Loading with pestilential breath the air +That fanned her temples, or the reeking wing +Of unclean bird obscenely hovering; +And something crossed her path that halting nigh, +At the intruder glared with evil eye,-- +She hardly heeded passing swiftly by. + +Leaving behind that hideous umbrage fast, +What wraith escaping from its tenement, +Winona through the sleeping village passed, +And pausing not, to Gray Cloud's tipi went, +Laid back the door, and with a stealthy tread, +Entered and softly crouched beside his head. +Her gaze that seemed to pierce his inmost thought, +Keen as the ready knife her hand had sought, +And through the open door the slant moonbeams +Smiting the sleeper's face awaked him not. +He vaguely muttered in his wandering dreams +Of "medicine," and of the Thunder-Bird. +As if to go, her knife she half returned; +Whether her woman's heart with pity stirred, +Or superstitious awe, she slightly turned, +But gazing still, over his features came +The semblance of a smile, and his arms moved, +Clasping in rosy dreams some form beloved, +And his lips moved, and though no sound she heard, +She thought they shaped her name, and a red flame +Leaped to her brain, and through her vision passed; +A raging demon seized and filled her frame, +And like a lightning flash leaped forth her knife: +That cold keen heart-pang is his last of life; +The Water-Demon is avenged at last. + +[Illustration] + + +PART III. + +She struck but once, no need hath lightning stroke +For second blow to rend the heart of oak, +Nor waited there to see how Gray Cloud died; +Her fury all in that fierce outburst spent, +As from a charnel cave she fled the tent; +The wolfish dog suspiciously outside +Sniffed at her moccasins but let her pass. +Her tipi soon she reached, distant no more +Than arrow from a warrior's bowstring sent, +Paused but to wipe her knife upon the grass, +And found her usual couch upon the floor. +But not to sleep; she closed her eyes in vain, +Shutting away the moonlight from her view; +Darkness and moonlight wore the same dread hue, +Flooding the universe with crimson stain. +She clasped her bosom with her hands to still +The throbbing of her heart that seemed to fill +With tell-tale echoes all the air; an owl +The secret with unearthly shrieks confessed, +And Gray Cloud's dog sent forth a doleful howl +At intervals; but worse than all the rest, +That dreadful drum still beating in her breast, +As furious war-drums in the scalp-dance beat +To the mad circling of delirious feet. + +[Illustration: "THE GIANT CLIFFS OF RED-WING SPREADING BACK."] + +Early next morning, as the first faint rays +Of sunlight through the rustling lindens played, +Two children sent to seek the conjurer's aid, +Gazed on the sight, with horror and amaze, +Of Gray Cloud's lifeless body rolled in blood. +Fast through the village spread the news, and stirred +With mingled fear and wonder all who heard. +The oracles were baffled and dismayed, +And spoke with muffled tones and looks of dread: +"Some envious foeman lurking in the wood, +With medicine more strong than his," they said, +"Stole in last night and gave the fatal wound." +The warriors scoured the country miles around, +Seeking for sign or trail, but naught they found: +The murderer left behind no clue or trace +More than a vampire's flight through darkling space. + +The Raven with a stoic calmness heard +Of Gray Cloud's death, nor showed by look or word +The wrath that to its depth his being stirred. +Winona heard the news with false surprise, +As if just roused from sleep she rubbed her eyes; +When she arose her knees like aspens shook, +But this she quelled and forced a tranquil look +To feign the calmness that her soul forsook. +And when the mourning wail rose on the air, +Winona's voice was heard commingling there. +She gathered with the other maidens where, +On a rude bier, the conjurer's body lay +Adorned and decked in funeral array. +She flung a handful of her sable hair, +And wept such tears above the painted clay[13] +As weeps a youthful widow, only heir, +Over the coffin of a millionaire. + +Moons waxed to fullness and to sickles waned. +The gossips still conversed with bated breath. +The appalling mystery of Gray Cloud's death, +Wrapped in impenetrable gloom, remained +A blighting shadow o'er the village spread. +But youthful spirits are invincible, +Nor fear nor superstition long can quell +The bubbling flow of that perennial well; +And so the youths and maidens soon regained +The wonted gayety that late had fled. +All save Winona, in whose face and mien, +Unto the careless eye, no change was seen; +But one that noted might sometimes espy +A furtive fear that shot across her eye, +As in a forest, 'thwart some bit of blue, +Darts a rare bird that shuns the hunter's view. +Her laugh, though gay, a subtle change confessed, +And in her attitude a vague unrest +Betrayed a world of feelings unexprest. +A shade less light her footsteps in the dance, +And sometimes now the Raven's curious glance +Her soul with terrors new and strange oppressed. + +Grief shared is lighter, none had she to share +Burdens that grew almost too great to bear, +For Redstar sometimes seemed to look askance, +And sought, they said, to win another breast. +Winona feigned to laugh, but in her heart +The rumor rankled like a poisoned dart. +Sometimes she almost thought the Raven guessed +The guilty secrets that her thoughts oppressed, +And sought, whene'er she could, to shun his sight. +Apart from human kind, still more and more, +The Raven dwelt, and human speech forbore. +And once upon a wild tempestuous night, +When all the demons of the earth and air +Like raging furies were embattled there, +She, peering fearfully, amid the swarm +Flitting athwart the flashes of the storm, +By fitful gleams beheld the Raven's form. +To her he spoke not since the fateful night +His chosen comrade passed from human sight, +Save only once, forgetting he was by +And half forgetting too her care and woes, +Unto her lips some idle jest arose. +"Winona," said the Raven, in a tone +Of stern reproof that on the instant froze +All thought of mirth, and when she met his eye, +As by a serpent's charm it fixed her own; +The hate and anger of a soul intense +Were all compressed in that remorseless glance, +The coldly cruel meaning of whose sense +Smote down the shield of her false innocence. +She strove to wrest her eye from his in vain, +Held by that gaze ophidian like a bird, +As in a trance she neither breathed nor stirred. +And gazing thus an icy little lance, +Smaller than quill from wing of humming-bird, +Shot from his eyes, and a keen stinging pain +Sped through the open windows of her brain. +Her senses failed, she sank upon the ground, +And darkness veiled her eyes; she never knew +How long this was, but when she slowly grew +Back from death's counterfeit, and looked around, +So little change was there, that it might seem +The scene had been but a disordered dream. +The Raven sat in his accustomed place, +Smoking his solitary pipe; his face, +A gloomy mask that none might penetrate, +Betrayed no sign of anger, grief, or hate; +Absorbed so deep in thoughts that none might share, +He noted not Winona's presence there; +From his disdainful lips the thin blue smoke +From time to time in little spirals broke, +Floating like languid sneers upon the air, +And settling round him in a veil of blue +So sinister to her disordered view, +That she arose and quickly stole away. +She shunned him more than ever from that day, +And never more unmoved could she behold +That countenance inscrutable and cold. + +But Hope and Love, like Indian summer's glow, +Gilding the prairies ere December's snow, +Lit with a transient beam Winona's eye. +The season for the Maidens' Dance drew nigh, +And Redstar vowed, whatever might betide, +To claim her on the morrow as his bride. +What now to her was all the world beside? +The evil omens darkening all her sky, +Malicious sneers, her rival's envious eye, +While her false lover lingered at her side, +All passed like thistle-down unheeded by. +The evening for the dance arrived at last; +An ancient crier through the village passed, +And summoned all the maidens to repair +To the appointed place, a greensward where, +Since last year unprofaned by human feet, +Rustled the prairie grass and flowers sweet. +None but the true and pure might enter there-- +Maidens whose souls unspotted had been kept. +At set of sun the circle there was formed, +And thitherward the happy maidens swarmed. +The people gathered round to view the scene: +Old men in broidered robes that trailing swept, +And youths in all their finery arrayed, +Dotting like tropic birds the prairie green, +Their rival graces to the throng displayed. +Winona came the last, but as she stept +Into the mystic ring one word, "Beware!" +Rang out in such a tone of high command +That all was still, and every look was turned +To where the Raven stood; his stern eye burned, +And like a flower beneath that withering glare +She faded fast. No need that heavy hand +To lead Winona from the joyous band; +No need those shameful words that stained the air: +"Let not the sacred circle be defiled +By one who, all too easily beguiled, +Beneath her bosom bears a warrior's child." + +Winona swiftly fleeing, as she passed, +One look upon her shrinking lover cast +That seared his coward heart for many a day, +Into the deepest woods she took her way. +The dance was soon resumed, and as she fled, +Like hollow laughter chasing overhead, +Pursued the music and the maidens' song. +Just as she passed from sight an angry eye +Glared for a moment from the western sky, +And flung one quivering shaft of dazzling white, +With tenfold thunder-peal, adown the night. +Her mother followed her, and sought her long, +Calling and listening through the falling dew, +While fast and furious still the cadence grew +Of the gay dance, whose distant music fell, +Smiting the mother like a funeral knell. +High rode the sun in heaven next day before +The stricken mother found along the shore +The object of her unremitting quest. +The cooling wave whereon she lay at rest +Had stilled the tumult of Winona's breast +Along that shapely ruin's plastic grace, +And in the parting of her braided hair, +The hopeless mother's glances searching there +The Thunder-Bird's mysterious mark might trace. + +So died Winona, and let all beware, +For vengeance follows fast and will not spare, +Nor maid, nor warrior that dares offend +Who hath the cruel Thunder-Bird for friend. + + + + +THE PEACE-PIPE +QUARRY + +[Illustration] + + +Outward swell the rolling prairies like the waves of ocean deep; +Higher rise the crested billows rolling upward as they sweep +From horizon to horizon, and the air grows pure and free, +"On the mountains of the prairie," on the wind-swept emerald sea. + +As in olden time the zealots who would build unto their God, +Sacred temples for his worship, chose a "high place," and the sod +Of the consecrated mountain was made holy by the rites +Of footsore and weary pilgrims who had sought the sacred heights, +So instinctively the red-men, roaming o'er the boundless main, +Looked for their Manitou above the low level of the plain; +Sought and found him on the summit of the green wave's swelling crest +Rising upward like a mountain, in the valley of the West. + +Not to him they founded temples, gilded fanes and altars fair; +Looking up, they saw already Manitou enthroned there +In the fastness of the mountain, with his sphynx-like, stony face +Watching like a guardian spirit, o'er the dusky lawless race +Who regarded not each other, and their deadly hatred slaked +In the blood of friends and foemen, when their slumbering ire was waked. + +"Gitche Manitou, the Mighty," the Great Spirit throned above, +Was a God of truth and wisdom, was a God of peace and love; +And as God upon Mount Sinai, stooping from his heavenly throne, +Gave the law unto his people, deeply graven into _stone_, +"Gitche Manitou, the Mighty," in compassion for the race +Of unlettered, untaught heathen who knew not his god-like face +Save they saw it in the tempest or the lightning's livid glare, +Or in some familiar emblem they could see, or feel, or wear, +Taught them peace and love to kindred, through an emblem formed of stone, +Fashioned in the well-known outlines of a thing they called their own. +In the caverns of his store-house, deeply sunken in the ground, +Lay the mystical red pipe-stone, never yet by sachem found. +With his strong right hand almighty, rent he now the ground in twain, +Broke the red stone of the quarry, and, resounding o'er the plain, +Came this message to the warriors:--"Let this be to you a sign: +Make you calumets of pipe-stone, pledge you peace and love divine, +By the smoking of this signet. Let it pass from hand to hand. +Cease you from your wars and wrangling, and be brothers in the land." + +The Great Spirit's words were heeded, and the calumet, the pipe +Which they often smoked together in their councils, was the type +Of good-will and peace thereafter, and upon the quarry's site, +Hostile tribes and tongues and races meeting, never meet to fight. + +Many legends and traditions cluster round this sacred spot; +Many histories and records deep with hidden meaning fraught, +Have been chiseled on the ledges at the ancient bowlders' base, +Who, like strangers in the valley, drifted to a resting place. + +[Illustration] + +Here, ere Manitou had given to the tribes the pipe of peace, +Saw he mighty war and bloodshed, saw the tribes of men decrease, +Until fleeing from destruction, come three maidens to the rocks-- +The last remnant of all women, hiding from the fearful shocks +Of the deadly fight and carnage which was raging through the air, +Driven to these three large bowlders, as a refuge in despair. +Now in memory of the conflict and the part the bowlders bore, +They are named in weird tradition, "The Three Maidens," evermore. + +[Illustration] + +Here the thunder-bird portentous, Wakan, terrible in might, +Made his home in awful grandeur on the cliff's mysterious height. +Here the flapping of his pinions brought the fierce, hot lightning's + glare, +Glazing all the fissured surface like enamel smooth and fair; +Melting all the red rock's substance till a foot-print of the bird, +Plastic then, took form and hardened for a witness of the word. + +[Illustration: _Falls of Winnewissa._] + +Northward, just beyond the quarry, stands the famous "Leaping Rock," +With its proud head reared to heaven, with an air that seems to mock +And to set at stern defiance, boastful braves who seek for fame, +And from agile feats to gather for themselves an envied name. +Hither came to try his daring, with brave heart to valor nerved, +Hopefully a young Sioux chieftain, never from his purpose swerved, +Came in all his youthful vigor, with his band of stalwart braves, +From the land of the Dakotas; zealously his spirit craves +To lead them all in bravery as he oft before has led, +And the plumes of the war eagle proudly waving on his head, +To wear in boastful triumph on the far-famed treacherous height, +And in his tribe's traditions, thus his envied name to write. + +Fearlessly he stands a moment on the overhanging edge +Of the nearest cliff's high summit, eyes the small and slippery ledge +Just beyond the yawning chasm which his daring feet must leap; +Stands there bold and free and fearless, taking inward at a sweep +All the fearful odds and chances, the deep chasm he must cross-- +Calculates with hope of winning, never with a fear of loss. +High above him arch the heavens; deep below him yawns the gulf; +In his ears the cataract thunders, and before him stands the rough, +Towering rock with air defiant, standing mocking, beckoning there. +With a fixed resolve and purpose, he leaps upward in the air-- +Leaps, but not as he had counted, for his feet touch not the goal, +But his body plunges downward, and the young Sioux warrior's soul, +Rising upward through the ether, seeks the happy hunting ground +Just as anxious friends and kindred gather hastily around, +Dropping tears unto his memory and with slow and measured tread, +Bear away the bold young chieftain, to the mansions of the dead. +Fear the falls of Winnewissa sweetly wooing to repose +With its murmurous plash of waters perfume-laden of the rose, +'Neath the soil which once _his_ kindred claimed and lived in until we +Rising eastward like a storm-cloud, swept the land from sea to sea. +Sleepeth well the brave young warrior in this legend-hallowed ground, +The long sleep that knows no waking till the common trump shall sound. +Still the Indian camp-fires glimmer round the sacred quarry's edge, +And the calumet, the peace-pipe, is to them a friendly pledge: +And the doubting pale-face dwelling near the blood-red mystic stone, +Feels around him peace and safety like Elijah's mantle thrown. + +[Illustration] + +Long may Manitou, the mighty, the Great Spirit throned above, +Smile upon his helpless children, fill their lives with peace and love; +And at last, in the great council, at the bidding of his voice, +May they meet to smoke the peace-pipe with the people of his choice. + + + + +The Song of Hiawatha. + + +THE PEACE-PIPE. + +[Illustration] + +On the Mountains of the Prairie,[14] +On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,[15] +Gitche Manito, the mighty, +He the Master of Life, descending, +On the red crags of the quarry +Stood erect, and called the nations, +Called the tribes of men together. +From his footprints flowed a river, +Leaped into the light of morning, +O'er the precipice plunging downward +Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. +And the Spirit, stooping earthward, +With his finger on the meadow +Traced a winding pathway for it, +Saying to it, "Run in this way!" + From the red stone of the quarry +With his hand he broke a fragment, +Molded it into a pipe-head, +Shaped and fashioned it with figures; +From the margin of the river +Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, +With its dark green leaves upon it; +Filled the pipe with bark of willow, +With the bark of the red willow; +Breathed upon the neighboring forest, +Made its great boughs chafe together, +Till in flame they burst and kindled; +And erect upon the mountains, +Gitche Manito, the mighty, +Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe, +As a signal to the nations. + And the smoke rose slowly, slowly, +Through the tranquil air of morning, +First a single line of darkness, +Then a denser, bluer vapor, +Then a snow-white cloud unfolding, +Like the tree-tops of the forest, +Ever rising, rising, rising, +Till it touched the top of heaven, +Till it broke against the heaven, +And rolled outward all around it. + From the Vale of Tawasentha, +From the Valley of Wyoming,[16] +From the groves of Tuscaloosa,[17] +From the far-off Rocky Mountains, +From the Northern lakes and rivers +All the tribes beheld the signal, +Saw the distant smoke ascending, +The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. + And the Prophets of the nations +Said: "Behold it, the Pukwana! +By this signal from afar off, +Bending like a wand of willow, +Waving like a hand that beckons, +Gitche Manito, the mighty, +Calls the tribes of men together, +Calls the warriors to his council!" + +[Illustration] + + +II. + +[Illustration] + +By the shores of Gitche Gumee, +By the shining Big-Sea-Water, +Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, +Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis +Dark behind it rose the forest, +Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, +Rose the firs with cones upon them; +Bright before it beat the water, +Beat the clear and sunny water, +Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water. +There the wrinkled, old Nokomis +Nursed the little Hiawatha, +Rocked him in his linden cradle, +Bedded soft in moss and rushes, +Safely bound with reindeer sinews; +Stilled his fretful wail by saying, +"Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!" +Lulled him into slumber, singing, +"Ewa-yea! my little owlet! +Who is this, that lights the wigwam? +With his great eyes lights the wigwam? +Ewa-yea! my little owlet!" + +[Illustration] + + + + +Hiawatha's Wooing. + + + At the doorway of his wigwam +Sat the ancient Arrow-maker, +In the land of the Dacotas, +Making arrow-heads of jasper, +Arrow-heads of chalcedony. +At his side, in all her beauty, +Sat the lovely Minnehaha, +Sat his daughter, Laughing Water, +Plaiting mats of flags and rushes; +Of the past the old man's thoughts were, +And the maiden's of the future. + He was thinking, as he sat there, +Of the days when with such arrows +He had struck the deer and bison, +On the Muskoday, the meadow; +Shot the wild goose flying southward, +On the wing, the clamorous Wawa; +Thinking of the great war-parties, +How they came to buy his arrows, +Could not fight without his arrows. +Ah, no more such noble warriors, +Could be found on earth as they were! +Now the men were all like women, +Only used their tongues for weapons! + She was thinking of a hunter, +From another tribe and country, +Young and tall and very handsome, +Who one morning, in the Spring-time, +Came to buy her father's arrows, +Sat and rested in the wigwam, +Lingered long about the doorway, +Looking back as he departed. +She had heard her father praise him, +Praise his courage and his wisdom; +Would he come again for arrows +To the Falls of Minnehaha? +On the mat her hands lay idle, +And her eyes were very dreamy. + Through their thoughts they heard a footstep, +Heard a rustling in the branches, +And with glowing cheek and forehead, +With the deer upon his shoulders, +Suddenly from out the woodlands +Hiawatha stood before them. + Straight the ancient Arrow-maker +Looked up gravely from his labor, +Laid aside the unfinished arrow, +Bade him enter at the doorway, +Saying, as he rose to meet him, +"Hiawatha, you are welcome!" + At the feet of Laughing Water +Hiawatha laid his burden, +Threw the red deer from his shoulders; +And the maiden looked up at him, +Looked up from her mat of rushes, +Said with gentle look and accent, +"You are welcome, Hiawatha!" + Very spacious was the wigwam, +Made of deer-skin dressed and whitened, +With the Gods of the Dakotas +Drawn and painted on its curtains, +And so tall the doorway, hardly +Hiawatha stooped to enter, +Hardly touched his eagle-feathers +As he entered at the doorway. + Then uprose the Laughing Water, +From the ground fair Minnehaha, +Laid aside her mat unfinished, +Brought forth food and set before them, +Water brought them from the brooklet, +Gave them food in earthen vessels, +Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood, +Listened while the guest was speaking, +Listened while her father answered, +But not once her lips she opened, +Not a single word she uttered. + Yes, as in a dream she listened +To the words of Hiawatha, +As he talked of old Nokomis, +Who had nursed him in his childhood. +As he told of his companions, +Chibiabos, the musician, +And the very strong man, Kwasind, +And of happiness and plenty +In the land of the Ojibways, +In the pleasant land and peaceful. + "After many years of warfare, +Many years of strife and bloodshed, +There is peace between the Ojibways +And the tribe of the Dakotas." +Thus continued Hiawatha, +And then added, speaking slowly, +"That this peace may last forever, +And our hands be clasped more closely, +And our hearts be more united, +Give me as my wife this maiden, +Minnehaha, Laughing Water, +Loveliest of Dakota women!" + And the ancient Arrow-maker +Paused a moment ere he answered, +Smoked a little while in silence, +Looked at Hiawatha proudly, +Fondly looked at Laughing Water, +And made answer very gravely: +"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes; +Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!" + And the lovely Laughing Water +Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, +Neither willing nor reluctant, +As she went to Hiawatha, +Softly took the seat beside him, +While she said, and blushed to say it, +"I will follow you, my husband!" + This was Hiawatha's wooing! +Thus it was he won the daughter +Of the ancient Arrow-maker, +In the land of the Dakotas! + + HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. + + + + +The River-Lake. + + +After the cooling shower +Soft is the twilight hour + On the river-lake. +Sweetly the plaintive note +Gushes from whippoorwill's throat, +Gently, gently we float, + Light as a fine snow-flake, + Down the river-lake. +The dripping oars at rest + Their murmurous music wake, +And ripple o'er the breast + Of the peaceful river-lake. + +The lovely shadows fall +Like a sin-outshutting wall + On the river-lake, +Charming the hour and place. +The holiness we trace +In Nature's quiet grace + Makes sacred for her sake + All on the river-lake. +O this is purest joy! + This it is that makes +Me love the wide St. Croix, + The river-lake of lakes. + + E. L. FALES. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Song of a Nadowessee Chief. + + +See on his mat--as if of yore, + All life-like sits he here! +With that same aspect which he wore + When light to him was dear. + +But where the right hand's strength? and where + The breath that loved to breathe, +To the Great Spirit aloft in air, + The peace-pipe's lusty wreath? + +And where the hawk-like eye, alas! + That wont the deer pursue, +Along the waves of rippling grass, + Or fields that shone with dew? + +Are these the limber, bounding feet + That swept the winter's snows? +What stateliest stag so fast and fleet? + Their speed outstripped the roe's! + +These arms, that then the steady bow + Could supple from its pride, +How stark and helpless hang they now + Adown the stiffened side! + +Yet weal to him--at peace he stays + Where never fall the snows; +Where o'er the meadows springs the maize + That mortal never sows. + +Where birds are blithe on every brake-- + Where forests teem with deer-- +Where glide the fish through every lake-- + One chase from year to year! + +With spirits now he feasts above; + All left us--to revere +The deeds we honor with our love, + The dust we bury here. + +Here bring the last gift! loud and shrill + Wail, death dirge for the brave! +What pleased him most in life may still + Give pleasure in the grave. + +We lay the ax beneath his head + He swung when strength was strong-- +The bear on which his banquets fed-- + The way from earth is long! + +And here, new sharped, place the knife + That severed from the clay, +From which the ax had spoiled the life, + The conquered scalp away! + +The paints that deck the dead bestow-- + Yes, place them in his hand-- +That red the kingly shade may glow + Amid the spirit-land. + + SIR. E. L. BULWER. + + + + +"Mahnusatia." + + +A pine-girt lake, broad spread; a glimpse +Of clear-rimmed bay, encroaching lusk +Upon a lapse of rocky vale; +Beyond, a brunt-browed mountain, set +Abrupt against a weary waste +Of level, sparse-grown forest plain. +Vanguard of Order's birth on Earth's +Primeval stage, sphynx-like, the mount +From chaos burst upon a world +Of sea in space. It kept its head +To the sun; it pierced the dense of the mists; +It gathered forces, one by one, +Until the land by light was kissed. +The waters slunk away to Lake +Superior's bent, leaving a child +At play, on a plateau's breast, content. +Marking the march of time, the mount +Grew grim and gray, while ages stored +Their riches at its feet away:-- +Ore-of-iron riches deep stowed +In vaults of rock, for creature king +Of future age to fit the key +Of genius in their ancient locks; +Stowed wealth to bless a nation, whose +Motto: "Onward! Light!" befits it +For that mountain's home, which pierced through +Inchoate night; stowed signet seal, +With which to stamp that fair land's Queen +Of States, whose crested monogram, +With sheaves of wheat entwined, the North +Star scintillates. + + Guarding the till +Of treasure, mountain, grim and gray, +Playing with wind and wave, child-lough +And lazy bay--Archaic group +Are they, whose quiet naught details +Of primal epochs; yet, as face +Of man with furrowed wrinkles marked +And seared, suggests his past life's course, +Their presence in itself reveals +The trace of annals which their calm +Conceals. So Mystery's seeds were sown. +Even the simple Indian folk,-- +Naive indigene of primitive plain,-- +Beheld with minds to quickened thought +Provoked, that single skyward height +Break stark upon the main and called +It "Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog." +Because, they said, it was the breast +Of Mother Earth, which there arose +To succor spirit souls in quest +Of joyous hunting-grounds, of which +Their wise men tell. And not to them +Alone has nature from this rare +Scene appealed to fancy; for, when +Old Father Time, from out his horn +Of plenty, had poured the years full +Generations high upon the one +To which this legend runs, the white +Man came, bearing a waving stick, +His country's standard, into these +Proemial haunts. The lake, wine-stained, +He called "Vermilion," but the mount +Which broke upon his vision from +Under a chastened moon, he named, +"Jasper," after glories promised +To the kingdom of his own God. + + * * * * * + +The wild rice bent its fragile stalk +Beneath a crown of ripened grain; +The birch and oak and maple blazed +The Autumn's glory forth, and set aflame +With red and gold, the northland pines, +Perennial green. The light wind's voice +Was muffled in requiem, mournful, low,-- +A parting song to Summer, sad, soft, +And measured slow. Timed to the chant +Of death, but tuned to death's sweet hope-- +Joy-hope of sorrow born--fair birth, +A freer life of fuller scope! +The sinking sun set all ablush +The bosom of the lake. Upon the edge +Of twilight rode the specter moon-- +Swift pinioned bird of noiseless flight-- +And hung a halo far above +Mount Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog. +Along the shard-strewn shore, a band +Of Chippeway braves had pitched their camp, +To celebrate, with rites of their +Medawe, the flooding season's +Tide of full-grown grain. In and out +Among the shadow-lengthened pines, +Their dusky forms moved, one by one, +To circle silently around +The council fire. And when the tribe +Were gathered all, the day was done; +Its splendor shifted to the Queen +Of Night, that, flushed with triumph, flung +Adown the path of sky, beyond +Mount Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog +A bridge of golden gleams, to lose +Themselves within the darkling depths +Of Lake Vermilion's lifeless bay. + +Then Guteba, like Jacob's son, +The favored one of twelve, arose. +No warrior paint his tawny skin +Bedecked, nor eagle plume, nor claw +Of beast adorned his royal head-- +Base custom that of vulgar herd. +He wore a girt of wampum, nor +Need had he of other raiment; +For form erect, and sinewy frame +And kindling eye, bespoke the garb +Of manhood. + + Thus he addressed them: +"From yonder window, framed in sky, +Swings Ko-go-gau-pa-gon. +The God of Life has placed it there. +Down-hanging from the happy land, +Where spirits go, it forms a bridge, +O'er which all ransomed souls must cross. + +[Illustration] + +In fineness built, of beam of moon, +It sinks and rolls, my children. But +The light of foot and brave of heart +Fear not. And one thing mark: before +An Indian may touch sole upon +Those gleaming strands of gold, he first +Must navigate the bay, within +Whose darkly deep and treacherous bounds +The water, shamming, seems to sleep, +But only lies, like cunning fox, +To snare unwary passers-by +And hold them from their homeward way. + +"The story is not new. It is +Told with every year, as I do tell +It now, when comes Medawe time; +When all the earth was young in youth +The mighty Water reigned thereon +And breath of life was not. Then, here, +Upon the wind was heard a voice +In thunder tones, which said unto +The Water, 'Kitchie Gumme, I +Am Gezha Manitou--of Life +The Master Spirit. Lo! I bid +Thy waves recede. Here, leading up +Past Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog +Unto the Soul's Hereafter, I +Have established Ke-wa-ku-na. +Thy waters overleap my path +So that my children cannot pass. +Thou'st gone too far. Retreat to serve +Within the spacious metes which I +Have set for thee.' Because the waves +Would not, Gezha Manitou hurled +Them back upon each other, till +They sank deeper and deeper and +Deeper into perpetual sea. +Time does not count backward beyond +That struggle, but the water's voice +Has ever since been dumb where it +Took place; his arms have there refused +The birch canoe to cradle, or +The fish to succor. There, also +He called the Matchie Manitou, +The evil ones, to do his will. +They slew the buffalo, until +The rocks turned red with blood. They stole +The souls of them who sought to pass +The water grave; and man grew sad +And heavy-hearted. Then the voice +Of Gezha Manitou again +Was heard in words of speech to say: +'When winter snows, and springtime showers, +And summer suns have rounded out +The moon of ripened grain, light fires +To mark the places where your dead +Await my messengers to guide +Them home. Of meat to eat provide +Them none; but shape their arrows strong +And true. My buffalo will herd +Upon the water, and, along +The shores, thy garnered stores of grass +And grain must yield them food. Their horns +Will golden glimmer on the night +To make them easy prey for home +Bound souls, and they shall not be harmed +By Matchie Manitou. All clothed +In serpent skin and sharpened tooth +And poisoned tongue, my guides will come. +Then, let the living wary be +And go not near the tombs after +The haze of dusk turns dark of night; +For swift my heralds will approach +Those ghostly haunts with sure demand +For every soul that's found therein, +Be it in body dead or quick.' + +"The month, the day, the hour is here, +My children, when the dead may cross +To Ke-wa-ku-na less the fear +Of harm, and we have come to say +The last farewell. Wacumic's tomb, +Among the rest, awaits the torch. +In council, he was the Wise Man; +In war, the Brave Chief, and at home +The Best Loved,--his forefathers famed +For deeds of valor, virtue, and +Wisdom far back as memory takes +The trail. His name, interpreted +'The waters ceased and earth began,' +Denotes the time to which his line +Of lineage runs. His spirit craves +The promised land of happy hunt, +And chase, and sweetly flowing streams. +Our numbers are few, but our hearts +Are strong. We are weak from the loss +Of many battles, far from home; +Our horizon is shadowed by the Sioux; +Their echoing songs ring the woodlands +Through. Is it wise for us to light +The zenith of our skies, e'en tho' +It be with flame of sacred fire? +Wacumic was my father; you +My children are. I have finished." +Against the circle's center stake +The chieftain placed his wing-trimmed stick-- +Most curious crozier, which gave +Unto the thought of him, whose palm +It touched a brilliant speaking tongue; +Resumed his honored place the tribe +Among. + + Then stranger far, than track +Of wayward bird, or swirling wind, +Was Janishkisgan's forward course. +A maid of plebeian birth, she did +Not ask the leave of public speech-- +A right to woman not allowed-- +But from her people, where she sat, +With meekness due, stepped out and grasped +The staff Guteba had released, +Thus arrogating to herself +The right of oracle. + + She said: +"I was thy dead chief's handmaid, Friends. +Twelve months agone, I was with him +Upon the battle-field alone. +The Sioux were all around us; their +Faces war-red painted; their cries +Of vengeance filling all the air. +He to his saddle caught me up. +The Great Spirit strengthened his arm; +The lightning whet his ax; the wind +Speeded his pony's hoofs. Through walls +Of human blood he cut our way, +And on his tomb no single scalp +The deed remarks, or notes the slain +He left to whiten bones upon +The plains. He saved my life. What can +I better do with it than use +It for him? Arrows ready make; +Gather the grass and grain with which +To feed the golden horns; prepare +The fuel for the sacred fires +And I will light and keep them bright +Upon the tombs. From my lips +Speaks Gezha Manitou. I have done." + +Upon the silence which her words +Produced, the night-hawk's startling cry +Succeeded, and, round and round, above +Her head a milk-white falcon soared, +Now sailing high, now skimming low, +As if some mystic orison +In exultation it performed. + + Symbolic bird! Thy course no chance +Directed. Talismanic art +Thou held by this nomadic tribe: +For, when the First Wacumic ruled +The band, from all the hosts of field +And feathery flock of heaven, thou wert +Elected Totem. Favored One! +Their fate forever linked to thine; +Thy image crested on their shields; +Thy every flight prophetic held! + + Now, watch the trend of savage mind. +Even Chief Guteba, who loved +The Indian maid, knew that the bird +A seal had put upon her, from which +Her accomplished task alone would +Freedom give; and drove his knife +Into the thickness of his thigh +Hilt deep, to ease his pain of heart +That one so young, so fair and so +Much loved withal, must need take thought +Of courage. + + The Great Medicine +Confirmed the omen, in these words: +"Daughter, thou art chosen: go forth. +I give thee holy token, no +Woman ever wore before. It is +The medicine, which none but brave +Of noble birth may wear. Though thou +Art not of chieftain father bred, +Still yet thou art born noble. Take, +Janishkisgan, and to the top +Of Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog. +There let thine eye be keen, the path +Of open safety to descry;-- +Use this plume of eagle plucked, +To point to us the way. We will +Prepare the arrows; grass and grain +Arrange, and make the fuel ready for +The flame upon the graves. When four +And twenty hours have passed, light thou +The fires upon the tombs, and keep +Them brightly burning till the ripe +Rich moon has emptied all its gold." + + He hung the amulet about +Her throat--the medicine, a bag +Of dried, misshapen skin, that held +The healing herbs--a homely guise +That promised for them little worth; +For, so are virtues ofttimes clothed. + + She raised her eyes to heaven, as one +Made free of fear and full of faith; +Then moved away, while marveled all +Who saw her glowing, peaceful face, +Not knowing that her heart held court +Within its inner self, as thus: +"I thank thee, milk-white bird, that guides +My path. E'en now Guteba's lips +Are ripe to burst with love of me. +I see it in his glance; I hear +It in his tones. My heart doth not +Respond. His presents are prepared +With which to buy me from my sire; +His wigwam waits his bride, but I +Will never follow there. Thou hast +Given me right, thou barbarous bird, +To say him nay, who loves him not; +For, where the handmaid must obey, +The maid who lights the sacred fire +And bears the medicine shall have +Her equal say. And should my life +Yield in my task, thou'rt kinder, Death, +Than wandering heart from wigwam fire." + + The Chippeway band to safety moved, +Far toward the rising sun, and pitched +Their camp anew; then hoped, less hope, +For tidings of Janishkisgan, +That never came. + + Guteba's face +The while was draped with care, his tongue +With sadness locked. To muffled ears +His wise men spake, when they implored +Him, for his honor's sake, to take +A wife--he being counted less +Than man by Redskin code, who sits +Within his teepee door, without +The serving squaw and papoose squawk. + + Meantime the Great White Bird, from out +The North, came riding on the wind, +Its wings o'er heaven spread, and shed +Its down on hill and plain, the earth +In snow deep lying. Fasted then +Guteba long, and vowed unto +Himself that, cold in death or rich +In life, the maiden should be found; +Across his shoulder flung his bow +And arrow quiver; in his belt +Placed tomahawk and battle-ax +And lance; to westward sallied forth, +Nor of his purpose spoke. + + Three times the sun went round +Its course and still he tarried from +His home, while in the Chippeway camp +Anxiety grew alarm at his +Extended stay, and laggard seemed +Each tiny fleeting moment to +The last, until, when three times three +The days had rolled into the past. +A shout was heard, and sound of life +And roll of drum and tramp of feet +And happy, joyous song proclaimed +The sachem's safe return. + + He came +With flowing locks and steady step, +And form erect, his people round +About him flocking, wild with joy, +And full of eager questions, put, +Of where he'd been and what he'd seen; +To which his only answer was: +"Up Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog." +As one possessed by purpose stern, +He passed along, nor paused until +The halt was made his wigwam door +Before, where his aged mother stood +To give him greeting. Something more +Than sweetness beamed in welcome from +His smile the while he took her hand +In his and spoke that blessed name + Of "Mother." + + Then, most sudden end +Of joy!--into her outstretched arms +He sank, as tho' he lent himself +To gentle sleep, upon his lips +The seal of Gezha Manitou; +Else had they told the tale, the which +To tell, had given him strength to bear +A deep and mortal arrow wound +A long march: How Janishkisgan +Lingered from her father's tent +To nurse the water Medicine Sioux, +"Chief Minnepazuka" called, who, though +For healing arts renowned, had down +Been stricken with the plague upon +The mountain top, his wisdom shorn +Of power through lack of body strength +With which to put it into use. +The dead Chief's sense of justice craved +The gift of further speech, to tell +The facts that lead thereto as all +Sufficient in themselves to plead +Her pardon. How Janishkisgan +Found the Sioux, near the jaws of death, +And in her sympathy forgot +That she a Chippeway was and he +Of hostile stem. She took from him +The secret he had wrested from +The waves, and mixed a cure thereby +With which his life she saved. She kept +The fires burning, while waiting on +His needs, nor gave him but the time +That they required; yet both had learned +A lesson, dear as life itself-- +Each to the other had taught it, +And both had learned the same--learned to love +With a love so holy, that they +Must needs a union plan, in which +There, too, should be united all +Their severed bands. Guteba heard, +With his own ears, the chieftain swear +That he would bring from his far home, +On western slopes, the richest gifts +Of field and forest, to demand +His bride from her own father's hand: +And, with the rest, bring too, the white +Winged dove of peace, nor claim from lips +So passing sweet, one tiny kiss +Without this all accomplished. Chief +Guteba, hid in neighboring shrub, +O'erheard these vows, with tomahawk +Well aimed against the Sioux Chief's head; +And, hanging on the words, felt all +His being's manhood stir in plea +For nobler action: fall down let +The threatening blade, and, chief to chief, +Challenged the Sioux to combat with +The lance for Janishkisgan's hand; +It being current practice, that +He who victored in such a fray +Was held a friend for aye, by all +The vanquished chieftain's people. Hurt +With fatal stab, the Chippeway Chief +Had hastened home, to urge upon +His tribe the well-earned peace, the which +Minnepazuka's lance had won. + + Inexplicable fate! That coined +His lofty purpose and effort, staunch, +Into the very ill, for whose +Opposite good he sought; in death, +Closed his lips, still undelivered +Of their message, and left instead +A gaping wound to cry, "Revenge!" + + The tribe tore out their hair, and put +The blackening pigment on, and sang +Their grieving songs; athirst for blood, +Unheeding danger, struck their tents +And formed for march, in single file, +Back, back in gloom, to silent tombs, +Beside the dark, deep bay, below +Mount Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog, +There to lay their beloved chief's +Remains. + + And, there, Janishkisgan, +Filled with the superstition of + Her kind, made pillow nightly on +Her mother's grave, as well secure +As tho' she slept within the wigwam. +And there it was, one morning's dawn, +The somber funeral cortege found +Her. Most certain proof of innocence +And guilelessness and conscience all +At ease to rest upon a grave +At night, was it considered. But thus +To be, in calm repose, a smile +Transcendent on the lips, as if +Good spirits hovered near, almost +Were past belief of seeing eye. +So moved were they, who saw her there, +They stole away in awesome hush +Along a trackless trail, beneath +A ledge of rugged rock. Above +Their heads a bowlder's jutting edge +Protruded, where, this early morn, +Minnepazuka came to sing +A song of love. + + Alas! That she, +Who dreamed of him, had dream so sweet, +Her smile to him disastrous proved: +For, in that northern wild, no spot +So fit for ambush was as this +Unbeaten, shrub-grown path of rock +To which the Chippeways' impulse +Led them; and none so ill-secure +From ambuscading foe as this +Same barren bowlder, upon whose +O'erhanging height, the Sioux reclined. + + His prelude, played on flageolet, +In clear and clarion tones, broke through +The still of dawn and fell on ears +Of foes, who crept upon him, the while +He softly sang: + + "Oh, my Dove's Eye, +Thou dear one, hearest thou not +My voice? Thou lingerest far from me. +I am the Water Medicine. Rocks +Flow living streams if I but call. +Thou sharest my secrets, wee one; +Thou, too, hast quaffed of Immortal +Waters. Why linger far from me? +When the fever was upon me, +Then wast thou near me, thou Sunbeam. +Now, I am strong. To-morrow will +I journey toward the setting sun. +But I will come back again for thee. +My people shall be thine, my own. +Hearken to the voice of my song. + +[Illustration] + +My love is like the shining sun +Upon the pure snow of the mount-- +It would blush upon thy cheek, but +It would not destroy thee. Hear me, +Gentle one; fear me not. Thou didst +Not love the Chief Guteba. Thy +Lips have confessed it to me, and +My lance drank his heart dry. Now, thou +Sleepest upon thy mother's tomb." + + As like the lightning of the storm +Forensic message on the walls +Of heaven writes, to fill the earth +With pause of tragic dread, so did +Guteba's name, on alien tongue +For one brief moment holden stay +The stealthy steps that stole about +The Sioux and closed escaping path +Around him. And as thunder lends +Unto the tempest's roar a voice +More awful because of that but +Momentary respite, so with +The next succeeding breath, the air +Was curdled with the Chippeway cry +Of vengeance. Before the Sioux could +Change within his grasp the place +Of joyous flute for battle-ax +He was surrounded by them and made + Their royal captive. + + In thongs bound +Down and tortured, Janishkisgan +Next beheld him. But love, like theirs, +Which hath preserved itself through test +In purity, knows not despair. +Nor can it hush itself to ease +If it can find the chance to act +In the beloved one's behalf. +So while the maid, well-honored guard +Of sacred fires, passed freely round, +From friend, to friend, with greetings kind, +In measure full returned, her thoughts +Were busy with the night. + + When all +Was still beneath the stars, she left +Her blanket couch, high-heaped on leaves, +And let the prisoner free. Under +An old oak tree they said farewell, +Not without Minnepazuka's +Protestations, who plead as thus: + + "Oh, come with me, and be my bride; +My home is on the prairies wide, +Where West sweeps westward, in its pride, +To mount the heights of mountain side; +Where yellow glows the sunflower's gold, +And earth rolls rich in mellow mold; +Where cactus bloom and roses blush, +And rivers sweep through greensward lush; +Where deer and antelope and bear +Abound as free as sunlit air; +Where buffalo and cayote dwell +And perch and trout the clear brook swell. +Oh, come; oh, come, and live with me-- +To serve thee I shall happy be. +I'll pluck thee bed of down of swan; +Thy cares make light as foot of fawn; +I'll build canoe of birch-wood bark +To cradle thee, my Singing Lark. +I'll rob the white bear for thy frock; +I'll bring thee paint from red of rock; +I'll note the honey-bee in its flight-- +Gather its sweets by bright moonlight. +I'll coax the fishes from the wave; +Thy slightest wish shall bind me slave; +My arrow true its bow will fly +To draw abundance from the sky; +The heavens shall tremble at my voice +And thy dear heart rejoice, rejoice. +Oh, fly with me, these arms to bless; +Rest, rest, my little love, on my breast." + + "It cannot be, my beaming-eyed, +Until our people are allied. +My father's step is growing slow, +No other child hath he. The snow +Upon his head would pile did I +But go with thee. I beg thee fly." + + "No claim so binding is as love-- +Oh, come, oh, come, my nestling dove-- +Thy hands have set me free. And all +The blame of my escape will fall +On thee. Thy father will disown +Thee; the children cruel will stone +Thee, and----" + + "And I will think of thee." + + "Leave thee alone to bear such wrongs! +Oh, no. Upon my wrists bind back +The thongs. I will not freedom take. +'Twere better far than price like this +To perish at the stake. Bind back +The thongs." + + "Thou wouldst spare me pain? Then, +Go. Each tiny, lapping flame of fire +That fed its tongue on thee, would scorch +The life-blood in my heart until +Upon the funeral pyre, I'd throw +My worthless self. I beg thee go." + +"Alas! Thy heart is cold to me." + + "Nay, nay, not so; it all is thine. +I give it in this kiss. 'Twill sing +To thee from throat of bird; it will +Echo on the wind; it will +Caress thee from the dew;--'tis all +I have; it is thine. Farewell." + + "Gentle One, thou givest me life, +To take it from me. Thou lily heart, +Thou art my own, my other self: +Thy god declares it unto thee, +And mine to me." + + "And over all +Is the Great Spirit. Farewell." + + "Thou wilt not go?" + + "Farewell." + + "Farewell." + +Sad fate, by human standard judged, +The Indian maiden brought upon +Herself. Given to eat with dogs, +Clothed in rags, disgraced, driven from +Her father's door, the power of love +Sustained her. Magic Power, Great +Architect, Superb Chemist Love! +The heart that entertains thee +Grows lofty in spirit gentleness, +E'en tho' thou deignst to make it but +Thy workshop. So Janishkisgan +Knew thee. Fearing only to prove +Unworthy of her august guest, +She walked in the midst of scorn, +Contempt, contumely, sneers and stern +Displeasure, with that forbearance +And kindly dignity, which re-won +Her friends, despite themselves; so that +At last they gave her pitying peace, +And listened with their heart-strings tuned +To life's better part, while she sang +Her farewell song, each eve beneath +The tree. + + After a time the plague +Broke out and lamentations rose +On every hand. Old women made +Their teas and plied their healing arts; +The Great Medicine Men implored +Gezha Manitou's aid, and all +The vibrant air was resonant +With invoking incantations.-- +Death marched on. Then Janishkisgan +Bethought her of her lover's cure; +Gathered the balsam root and mixed +Therefrom the potent draught, as he +Had taught her. Great Medicine +It was, that brought the glow of health +Into the faded, hollow cheeks, +And all the people blessed the maid; +Called her, "Mahnusatia," which means +The balm that heals. Surrounded by +The dread disease, she came and went +Unscathed, as if by unseen hands +Protected. Where her gentle tones +Were heard or where her light step fell, +It was as if an angel passed.-- +Wan faces smiled, and hearts felt hope, +And trembling lips found voice to cry: +"Mahnusatia! Mahnusatia!" + +Thus in love was she renamed. +Reinstated and reintrenched +Deeper then ever in hearts which +Had once renounced her, still she lived +As one apart. The seasons came +And passed, and as they did, the tribe +Changed camp, from place to place, with each +Recurring Autumn to return +To Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog; +But "Mahnusatia" never left +The silent village. There she kept +Her vigil, night by night, under +The old oak tree. Her form became +Wasted; her eyes lustrous; her limbs +Grew to tremble, but her voice was +Sweeter, as on each even's breeze, +In rain or shine, in storm or calm, +Was heard her fond farewell. Her life's +Last breath was spent in that farewell. +Her body lay under the oak, whose +Spreading branches caught up the sad +Refrain, "Farewell, farewell," and gave +It back again each eventide. + + Her spirit lived in a thousand +Tongues, for where the Chippeway saw +The balsam tree, he turned his face +Toward Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog, +As Mahometan to Mecca, and +Cried out in reverential tones, +"Mahnusatia! Mahnusatia!" + + It lives to-day, mere chance of fate, +Perchance, a monument of fame, +Than which nor time, nor nation, nor +People have ever better built; +A monument of State, that rears +Its regal, star-crowned head above +Its sisters', in the grandest, most +Glorious Union, which the world +Has ever known. + + Yet who shall say, +Who hath not infinite knowledge, +It is but fortune's accident +That honors such fidelity? +Who, rather, shall not concede, that, +Down the path of time, a fitness, + +[Illustration: THE RIVER LAKE.] + +Everlasting, perpetuates +That sweet, sweet Indian name, which, in +Nobler accents, English spoken, +Echoes the wide, wide world around: +"Minnesota! Minnesota!" + + MRS. FANNIE L. STONE. + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Descending Star. + +(A CHIPPEWA LEGEND.) + + +The Chieftain sat in his wigwam door + And smoked his evening pipe, +While a crowd of Indian boys and girls, + Knowing his wisdom ripe, +Were begging him to a story tell, + For votive offering brought, +The tobacco loved by the aged sage; + So he told the tale they sought. + +"There was once a time when the world was filled + With a people happy," he said: +"The crimson tide of war rolled not, + Nor against each other led, +Each rival tribe their warriors brave: + For the nations were as one, +The frightful scourge that has wasted us + Had, happily, not begun. + +"With game in plenty forest and plain + Abounded. None were in want +And ghastly famine never touched + The tribes with its finger gaunt. + +[Illustration: CARVER'S CAVE.] + +At the bidding of man the beasts of the field + All meekly went and came; +For they feared him not, nor reason had, + But all were harmless and tame. + +"Unending spring for winter's blasts + And chills gave never a place; +Each tree and bush bowed low with fruit + So they needed not the chase. +A carpet of flowers covered the earth, + While the air with their perfume +Was laden. The songs of mated birds + Rose ever in sweetest tune. + +"The earth was indeed a paradise, + And man was worthy to live +'Mong these delights in tranquil peace + That merit alone can give. +The Indians--sole possession then-- + Roamed here and there at will, +O'er plains and lakes and wilderness-- + Ah, that it were so still! + +"They numbered millions, as nature designed, + Enjoying her many gifts. +The sports of the field were their delight; + Such life the soul uplifts. +They watched the stars with loving gaze, + And thought that they must be +The homes of the good, with the Great Spirit + In the heavens roaming free. + +"One night a star shone strangely bright, + Out-shining all the rest. +At first they deemed it far away, + Its nearness never guessed. +Then some declared they believed it stood + Just over the tree-tops tall. +To solve the doubt a council of + The wisest men they call. + +"These went one night and found the star + Was something like a bird. +It hovered just above the trees-- + They feared, for they had heard +From their forefathers that it might + A bloody war foretell, +And over them a silent dread + Of some disaster fell. + +"One moon had waned--the mystery + No one could solve or tell +If the omen of their heavenly guest + Foreboded ill or well: +When a warrior had a wondrous dream, + A lovely maiden came +And stood by his side--in sweetest tones, + She called him by his name. + +"'I love your beautiful lakes,' said she, + 'Your mountains clothed in green, +In yonder sky, shining above, + My sisters still are seen. +But I have left them to come and live + Among your race, young brave: +To find a suitable home for me + Go ask your sages grave.' + +"'And pray what form shall I assume + To be best loved by you?' +The youth awoke and stepped from his lodge + The ominous star to view. +It shone with undimmed luster where + It had stood for many a day: +Yet he firmly believed it the visitor + His waking had driven away. + +"At early dawn the crier was sent + Around the camp to call +The warriors at once to the Council Lodge, + And there before them all, +The young brave told his dream so strange. + For love, they said, no doubt +For love of man the star had come + And wandered thereabout. + +"To welcome her to earth next night + Five noble braves were sent. +She took the pipe of peace, which herbs + A sweet aroma lent. +Then with expanded wing she came + And hovered near their homes, +Like one who wished to be at rest + But still unwilling roams. + +"In dreams she asked the youth again: + 'Pray tell where I shall live, +And what form now must I assume + To most enjoyment give?' +He could not decide, so she was told + For herself 'twere best to choose. +The tribe might through their ignorance + Her heavenly wisdom lose. + +"On the mountains first in the pure white rose + She dwelt; but all unseen +By the tribe she loved: so next she went + To be the prairie's queen. +She trembled with fear, with ceaseless dread, + At the hoof of the buffalo; +For safety then a rocky cliff + She sought and glanced below. + +"'I know where I will live,' she said, + 'Where glides the swift canoe +Of the race I most admire, and where, + Dear children, always you +My playmates can be. I will kiss your cheeks + As you slumber by the lake. +Here with you all, my best beloved, + My home I will ever make.' + +"These words she spoke and alighted soon + On the water's limpid breast. +Looked down at her image reflected there, + At last she was at rest. + +[Illustration: "THESE WORDS SHE SPAKE AND ALIGHTED SOON ON THE WATERS' +LIMPID BREAST."] + +In the morning sun, as pure as heaven, + A thousand lilies basked; +For Wah-be-gwan-nee, water lily, + The Indian children asked. + +"In the southern sky this bright star lived; + Her brethren can be seen +Far off in the cold North, hunting the bear: + Meanwhile, with ardor keen, +Her sisters watch from East and West, + And here, an exile lone, +She sees her heavenly kindred fair + In the home that was her own. + +"My children, when the lilies pure + You pluck from the placid lake, +Hold them toward heaven, their rightful home, + Abandoned for your sake. +So they may be happy here on earth + As any sister star +That, stationed in the summer sky, + Gleams brightly from afar." + + IDA SEXTON SEARLS. + + + + +The Trailing Arbutus. + +EPIGAEA REPENS. + + +In the vast, primeval forest, unremembered moons ago, +When the streams were dumb and palsied, all the earth was white with snow, +When the eerie wind went chasing evil spirits through the wood, +'Neath the gaunt and leafless tree-tops, an old Indian teepee stood. +In it lived an old man only, with white locks and flowing beard, +Clad in furs from head to foot-sole, like one to the north-land reared: + +Weakly his scant fire resisted the dread storm-fiend's icy breath, +And its deep, portentous rumblings spoke of swift approaching death. +Crouching there, "O Mannaboosho," cried he through the awful night, +"Here behold me, thy brave warrior. I will conquer in thy might." +Then the lodge door softly opened and in stepped a beauteous form +Clad in ferns and sweet spring grasses. When she breathed, the air + grew warm. +Large her eyes were, glowing brightly, as at night, the lustrous fawn's. +Red her cheeks were like wild roses or bright carmine-tinted dawns. +Long her hair and black as raven's, trailing o'er the frozen ground, +And her hands with pussy-willows, like close-fitting gloves were bound. +Fair wild-flowers crowned her tresses and her dainty little feet +Were encased in two white lilies from the great lakes pure and sweet. + +Said the old man, "Ah, my daughter, I am glad to see you here. +Though my lodge is cold and cheerless, it will shield you, never fear; +But pray tell me, fearless maiden, how these icy blasts you dare +To confront in such strange clothing? Will you not the secret share? +I am old Kabibonokka, and my breath in ice congeals. +When I shake my locks, the snow falls. All the earth my power feels. +Hastily the birds fly southward and the squirrels safely hide." +"Ah how strange!" replied the maiden. "I spread beauty far and wide. +When I shake my raven tresses, soft, warm rain falls from the sky, +All the birds come back a-building in the leafy tree-tops high." +Thus they talked, but soon the teepee grew like summer, strangely warm, +And the old man's head dropped listless o'er a soundly-sleeping form. +High the sun rode in the heavens, and a bluebird, pert and trim, +Called out, "Say-ee, I am thirsty;" and the rivers flowed for him. +As the old man slept, the maiden passed her hand above his head, +And he smaller grew and smaller, till, all mortal substance sped, +But a mass of green leaves growing there remained upon the earth; +And the fairy maiden stooping, with an air of quiet mirth, +Took pink-tinted flowers and hid them all about beneath the leaves; +And her sweet, fresh breath upon them, like a spell she softly breathes +As she sings with clear, wild warblings, "of my graces, I give all; +And who shall desire to pluck thee, on his bended knees shall fall." + +Then as onward moved the maiden, through the woods and o'er the plains, +All the jocund birds sang to her, o'er her fell the spring-time rains, +And the arbutus in beauty, 'neath her fairy footsteps sprung. +Nowhere else in vale or woodland were the precious seedlets flung. +Still Northern Minnesota, near the great unsalted sea, +Trace we will the maiden's footsteps where these self-same blossoms be. + + ADELAIDE GEORGE BENNET. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Nopa. + + +In the shelter of the forest, + By the cataract's lonely brink, +(Shadow Falls, we call them nowadays) + Where the red deer came to drink, +Lived old Chaska and his daughter + Nopa, in their tepee small. +Handsome was this dusky maiden, + Eyes like deer and form so tall. + +"Seche-do--bad man," said Chaska, + As the moccasin he laid down, +Ready for the wampum finish; + Nopa's skill his work must crown. +She had told him of an artist, + Sunny-haired with hand of snow, +Whose canoe was fastened daily, + In the river just below. + +"Talk not to the treacherous white man," + Chaska said, in tones of wrath, +"Harken, daughter, to my warning; + Never must he cross my path!" +But poor Nopa little heeded + Her old father's wise command; +Watching close, each day and evening + For the footsteps in the sand. + +[Illustration: SHADOW FALLS.] + +Weeks have passed without his coming; + Weeks like years, so full of pain +To the Indian maiden thinking, + "Will he never come again?" +Surely now she hears his footsteps + Where the misty waters pour. +Falling headlong down the chasm: + Nopa will return no more. + +Chaska hears her calling wildly; + Seeks to grasp the fleeing form +Follows till the rushing waters, + Swollen with the autumn's storm, +Cruel, cast his lifeless body + 'Mong the rocks and caverns wild; +Desolate, the lonely tepee + Waits the hunter and his child. + +Now, in autumn, when the aster + Nods its purple plumes in pride; +When the black-eyed Susan coyly + 'Neath the gorgeous sumach hides; +And the golden-rod so stately, + To outshine all others tries; +In the mist of early evening + Two dark forms are seen to rise. + +Chaska and his dusky daughter, + Shades from out the spirit-land, +Flitting, falling, downward, downward, + Till they reach the shining sand. +Vanish then beside the river, + Where her faithless lover's bark +Once was moored. The waves, all lonely, + Lap the sands with shadows dark. + + IDA SEXTON SEARLS. + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Sea-Gull.[18] + +A LEGEND OF LAKE SUPERIOR. OJIBWAY. + +_In the measure of Hiawatha._ + +[The numerals refer to Notes to The Sea-Gull, in Appendix.] + + +On the shore of Gitchee Gumee[19]-- +Deep, mysterious, mighty waters-- +Where the manitoes--the spirits-- +Ride the storms and speak in thunder, +In the days of Neme-Shomis,[20] +In the days that are forgotten, +Dwelt a tall and tawny hunter-- +Gitchee Pez-ze-u--the Panther, +Son of Waub-Ojeeg,[21] the warrior, +Famous Waub-Ojeeg, the warrior. +Strong was he and fleet as roebuck, +Brave was he and very stealthy; +On the deer crept like a panther; +Grappled with Makwa,[22] the monster, +Grappled with the bear and conquered; +Took his black claws for a necklet, +Took his black hide for a blanket. +When the Panther wed the Sea-Gull, +Young was he and very gladsome; +Fair was she and full of laughter; +Like the robin in the spring-time, +Sang from sunrise till the sunset; +For she loved the handsome hunter. +Deep as Gitchee Gumee's waters +Was her love--as broad and boundless; +And the wedded twain were happy-- +Happy as the mated robins. +When their first-born saw the sunlight +Joyful was the heart of Panther, +Proud and joyful was the mother, +All the days were full of sunshine, +All the nights were full of starlight. +Nightly from the land of spirits +On them smiled the starry faces-- +Faces of their friends departed. +Little moccasins she made him, +Feathered cap and belt of wampum +From the hide of fawn a blanket, +Fringed with feathers, soft as sable; +Singing at her pleasant labor, +By her side the tekenagun,[23] +And the little hunter in it. +Oft the Panther smiled and fondled, +Smiled upon the babe and mother, +Frolicked with the boy and fondled. +Tall he grew and like his father, +And they called the boy the Raven-- +Called him Kak-kah-ge--the Raven. +Happy hunter was the Panther. +From the woods he brought the pheasant, + +[Illustration: WELCOME ISLAND, THUNDER BAY.] + +Brought the red-deer and the rabbit, +Brought the trout from Gitchee Gumee-- +Brought the mallard from the marshes-- +Royal feast for boy and mother: +Brought the hides of fox and beaver, +Brought the skins of mink and otter, +Lured the loon and took his blanket, +Took his blanket for the Raven. +Winter swiftly followed winter, +And again the tekenagun +Held a babe--a tawny daughter, +Held a dark-eyed, dimpled daughter; +And they called her Waub-omee-mee-- +Thus they named her--the White-Pigeon. +But as winter followed winter +Cold and sullen grew the Panther; +Sat and smoked his pipe in silence; +When he spoke he spoke in anger; +In the forest often tarried +Many days, and homeward turning, +Brought no game unto his wigwam; +Only brought his empty quiver, +Brought his dark and sullen visage. + +Sad at heart and very lonely +Sat the Sea-Gull in the wigwam; +Sat and swung the tekenagun +Sat and sang to Waub-omee-mee: +Thus she sang to Waub-omee-mee, +Thus the lullaby she chanted: + +Wa-wa, wa-wa, wa-we-yea; +Kah-ween, nee-zheka ke-diaus-ai, +Ke-gah nau-wai, ne-me-go s'ween, +Ne-baun, ne-baun, ne-daun-is ais, +Wa-wa, wa-wa, wa-we-yea; +Ne-baun, ne-baun, ne-daun-is-ais, +E-we wa-wa, wa-we-yea, +E-we wa-wa, wa-we-yea. + +TRANSLATION: + +Swing, swing, little one, lullaby; +Thou'rt not left alone to weep; +Mother cares for you--she is nigh; +Sleep, my little one, sweetly sleep; +Swing, swing, little one, lullaby; +Mother watches you--she is nigh; +Gently, gently, wee one, swing; +Gently, gently, while I sing +E-we wa-wa--lullaby, +E-we wa-wa--lullaby. + +Homeward to his lodge returning +Kindly greeting found the hunter, +Fire to warm and food to nourish, +Golden trout from Gitchee Gumee, +Caught by Kah-kah-ge--the Raven. +With a snare he caught the rabbit-- +Caught Wabose,[24] the furry-footed, +Caught Penay,[24] the forest-drummer; +Sometimes, with his bow and arrows, +Shot the red-deer in the forest, +Shot the squirrel in the pine-top, +Shot Ne-ka, the wild-goose, flying. +Proud as Waub-Ojeeg, the warrior, +To the lodge he bore his trophies. +So when homeward turned the Panther, +Ever found he food provided, +Found the lodge-fire brightly burning, +Found the faithful Sea-Gull waiting, +"You are cold," she said, "and famished; +Here are fire and food, my husband." +Not by word or look he answered; +Only ate the food provided, +Filled his pipe and pensive puffed it, +Sat and smoked in sullen silence. +Once--her dark eyes full of hunger-- +Thus she spoke and thus besought him: +"Tell me, O my silent Panther, +Tell me, O beloved husband, +What has made you sad and sullen? +Have you met some evil spirit-- +Met some goblin in the forest? +Has he put a spell upon you-- +Filled your heart with bitter waters, +That you sit so sad and sullen, +Sit and smoke, but never answer, +Only when the storm is on you?" + +Gruffly then the Panther answered: +"Brave among the brave is Panther +Son of Waub-Ojeeg, the warrior, +And the brave are ever silent; +But a whining dog is woman, +Whining ever like a coward." +Forth into the tangled forest, +Threading through the thorny thickets, +Treading trails on marsh and meadow, +Sullen strode the moody hunter. +Saw he not the bear or beaver, +Saw he not the elk or roebuck; +From his path the red-fawn scampered, +But no arrow followed after; +From his den the sly wolf listened, +But no twang of bow-string heard he. +Like one walking in his slumber, +Listless, dreaming, walked the Panther; +Surely had some witch bewitched him, +Some bad spirit of the forest. + +When the Sea-Gull wed the Panther, +Fair was she and full of laughter; +Like the robin in the spring-time, +Sang from sunrise till the sunset; +But the storms of many winters +Sifted frost upon her tresses, +Seamed her tawny face with wrinkles, +Not alone the storms of winters +Seamed her tawny face with wrinkles. +Twenty winters for the Panther +Had she ruled the humble wigwam; +For her haughty lord and master +Borne the burdens on the journey, +Gathered fagots for the lodge-fire, +Tanned the skins of bear and beaver, +Tanned the hides of moose and red-deer; +Made him moccasins and leggins, +Decked his hood with quills and feathers-- +Colored quills of Kaug,[25] the thorny, +Feathers from Kenew,[25] the eagle. +For a warrior brave was Panther; +Often had he met the foemen, +Met the bold and fierce Dakotas, +Westward on the war-path met them; +And the scalps he won were numbered, +Numbered seven by Kenew-feathers. +Sad at heart was Sea-Gull waiting, +Watching, waiting in the wigwam; +Not alone the storms of winters +Sifted frost upon her tresses. + +Ka-be-bon-ik-ka, the mighty,[26] +He that sends the cruel winter, +He that turned to stone the Giant, +From the distant Thunder-mountain, +Far across broad Gitchee Gumee, +Sent his warning of the winter, +Sent the white frost and Kewaydin,[27] +Sent the swift and hungry North-wind. +Homeward to the South the Summer +Turned and fled the naked forests. +With the Summer flew the robin, +Flew the bobolink and blue-bird. +Flock-wise following chosen leaders, +Like the shaftless heads of arrows +Southward cleaving through the ether, +Soon the wild-geese followed after. +One long moon the Sea-Gull waited, +Watched and waited for her husband, +Till at last she heard his footsteps, +Heard him coming through the thicket. +Forth she went to meet her husband, +Joyful went to greet her husband. +Lo behind the haughty hunter, +Closely following in his footsteps, +Walked a young and handsome woman, +Walked the Red Fox from the island-- +Gitchee Menis--the Grand Island-- +Followed him into the wigwam, +Proudly took her seat beside him. +On the Red Fox smiled the hunter, +On the hunter smiled the woman. + +Old and wrinkled was the Sea-Gull, +Good and true, but old and wrinkled. +Twenty winters for the Panther +Had she ruled the humble wigwam, +Borne the burdens on the journey, +Gathered fagots for the lodge-fire, +Tanned the skins of bear and beaver, +Tanned the hides of moose and red-deer, +Made him moccasins and leggins, +Decked his hood with quills and feathers, +Colored quills of Kaug, the thorny, +Feathers from the great war-eagle; +Ever diligent and faithful, +Ever patient, ne'er complaining. +But like all brave men the Panther +Loved a young and handsome woman; +So he dallied with the danger, +Dallied with the fair Algonkin,[28] +Till a magic mead she gave him, +Brewed of buds of birch and cedar,[29] +Madly then he loved the woman; +Then she ruled him, then she held him +Tangled in her raven tresses, +Tied and tangled in her tresses. +Ah, the tall and tawny Panther! +Ah, the brave and brawny Panther! +Son of Waub-Ojeeg, the warrior! +With a slender hair she led him, +With a slender hair she drew him, +Drew him often to her wigwam; +There she bound him, there she held him +Tangled in her raven tresses, +Tied and tangled in her tresses. +Ah, the best of men are tangled-- +Sometimes tangled in the tresses +Of a fair and crafty woman. + +So the Panther wed the Red Fox, +And she followed to his wigwam. +Young again he seemed and gladsome, +Glad as Raven when the father +Made his first bow from the elm-tree, +From the ash-tree made his arrows, +Taught him how to aim his arrows, +How to shoot Wabose--the rabbit. +Then again the brawny hunter +Brought the black bear and the beaver, +Brought the haunch of elk and red-deer, +Brought the rabbit and the pheasant-- +Choicest bits of all for Red Fox. +For her robes he brought the sable, +Brought the otter and the ermine, +Brought the black-fox tipped with silver. + +But the Sea-Gull murmured never, +Not a word she spoke in anger, +Went about her work as ever, +Tanned the skins of bear and beaver, +Tanned the hides of moose and red-deer, +Gathered fagots for the lodge fire, +Gathered rushes from the marshes; +Deftly into mats she wove them; +Kept the lodge as bright as ever. +Only to herself she murmured, +All alone with Waub-omee-mee. +On the tall and toppling highland, +O'er the wilderness of waters; +Murmured to the murmuring waters, +Murmured to the Nebe-naw-baigs-- +To the spirits of the waters; +On the wild waves poured her sorrow. +Save the infant on her bosom +With her dark eyes wide with wonder, +None to hear her but the spirits, +And the murmuring pines above her. +Thus she cast away her burdens, +Cast her burdens on the waters; +Thus unto the good Great Spirit, +Made her lowly lamentation: +"Wahonowin!--Wahonowin![30] +Gitchee Manito, bena-nin! +Nah, Ba-ba showain nemeshin! +Wahonowin!--Wahonowin!" + +Ka-be-bon-ik-ka,[26] the mighty, +He that sends the cruel winter, +From the distant Thunder-mountain +On the shore of Gitchee Gumee, +On the rugged northern border, +Sent his solemn, final warning, +Sent the white wolves of the Nor'land.[31] +Like the dust of stars in ether-- +In the Pathway of the Spirits,[32] +Like the sparkling dust of diamonds, +Fell the frost upon the forest, +On the mountains and the meadows, +On the wilderness of woodland, +On the wilderness of waters. +All the lingering fowls departed-- +All that seek the South in winter, +All but Shingebis, the diver;[33] +He defies the Winter-maker, +Sits and laughs at Winter-maker. + +Ka-be-bon-ik-ka, the mighty, +From his wigwam called Kewaydin-- +From his home among the icebergs, +From the sea of frozen waters, +Called the swift and hungry North-wind, +Then he spread his mighty pinions +Over all the land and shook them. +Like the white down of Waubese[34] +Fell the feathery snow and covered +All the marshes and the meadows, +All the hill-tops and the highlands. +Then old Peboean[35]--the winter-- +Laughed along the stormy waters, +Danced upon the windy headlands, +On the storm his white hair streaming, +And his steaming breath, ascending, +On the pine-tops and the cedars +Fell in frosty mists of silver, +Sprinkling spruce and fir with silver, +Sprinkling all the woods with silver. + +By the lodge-fire all the winter +Sat the Sea-Gull and the Red Fox, +Sat and kindly spoke and chatted, +Till the twain seemed friends together. +Friends they seemed in word and action, +But within the breast of either +Smoldered still the baneful embers-- +Fires of jealousy and hatred-- +Like a camp-fire in the forest +Left by hunters and deserted; +Only seems a bed of ashes, +But the East wind, Wabun-noodin, +Scatters through the woods the ashes, +Fans to flame the sleeping embers, +And the wild-fire roars and rages, +Roars and rages through the forest. +So the baneful embers smoldered, +Smoldered in the breast of either. + +From the far-off Sunny Islands, +From the pleasant land of Summer, +Where the spirits of the blessed +Feel no more the fangs of hunger, +Or the cold breath of Kewaydin, +Came a stately youth and handsome, +Came Segun,[36] the foe of Winter. +Like the rising sun his face was, +Like the shining stars his eyes were, +Light his footsteps as the Morning's, +In his hand were buds and blossoms, +On his brow a blooming garland. +Straightway to the icy wigwam +Of old Peboean, the Winter, +Strode Segun and quickly entered. +There old Peboean sat and shivered, +Shivered o'er his dying lodge-fire. + +"Ah, my son, I bid you welcome; +Sit and tell me your adventures; +I will tell you of my power; +We will pass the night together." +Thus spake Peboean--the Winter; +Then he filled his pipe and lighted; +Then by sacred custom raised it +To the spirits in the ether; +To the spirits in the caverns +Of the hollow earth he lowered it. +Thus he passed it to the spirits, +And the unseen spirits puffed it. +Next himself old Peboean honored; +Thrice he puffed his pipe and passed it, +Passed it to the handsome stranger. + +"Lo I blow my breath," said Winter, +"And the laughing brooks are silent. +Hard as flint become the waters, +And the rabbit runs upon them." + +Then Segun, the fair youth, answered: +"Lo, I breathe upon the hillsides, +On the valleys and the meadows, +And behold, as if by magic-- +By the magic of the spirits, +Spring the flowers and tender grasses." + +Then old Peboean replying: +"Nah![37] I breathe upon the forests, +And the leaves fall sere and yellow; +Then I shake my locks and snow falls, +Covering all the naked landscape." + +Then Segun arose and answered: +"_Nashke_![37]--see!--I shake my ringlets; +On the earth the warm rain falleth, +And the flowers look up like children +Glad-eyed from their mother's bosom. +Lo, my voice recalls the robin, +Brings the bobolink and bluebird, +And the woods are full of music. +With my breath I melt their fetters, +And the brooks leap laughing onward." + +Then old Peboean looked upon him, +Looked and knew Segun, the Summer, +From his eyes the big tears started +And his boastful tongue was silent. +Now Keezis--the great life-giver, +From his wigwam in Waubu-nong[38] +Rose and wrapped his shining blanket +Round his giant form and started, +Westward started on his journey, +Striding on from hill to hill-top. +Upward then he climbed the ether-- +On the Bridge of Stars[39] he traveled, +Westward traveled on his journey +To the far-off Sunset Mountains-- +To the gloomy land of shadows. + +On the lodge-poles sang the robin-- +And the brooks began to murmur. +On the South-wind floated fragrance +Of the early buds and blossoms. +From old Peboean's eyes the tear-drops +Down his pale face ran in streamlets; +Less and less he grew in stature +Till he melted down to nothing; +And behold, from out the ashes, +From the ashes of his lodge-fire, +Sprang the Miscodeed[40] and, blushing, +Welcomed Segun to the North-land. + +So from Sunny Isles returning, +From the Summer-Land of spirits, +On the poles of Panther's wigwam +Sang Opee-chee--sang the robin. +In the maples cooed the pigeons-- +Cooed and wooed like silly lovers. +"Hah!--hah!" laughed the crow derisive, +In the pine-top, at their folly-- +Laughed and jeered the silly lovers. +Blind with love were they, and saw not; +Deaf to all but love, and heard not; +So they cooed and wooed unheeding, +Till the gray hawk pounced upon them, +And the old crow shook with laughter. + +On the tall cliff by the sea-shore +Red Fox made a swing. She fastened +Thongs of moose-hide to the pine-tree, +To the strong arm of the pine-tree. +Like a hawk, above the waters, +There she swung herself and fluttered, +Laughing at the thought of danger, +Swung and fluttered o'er the waters. +Then she bantered Sea-Gull, saying, +"See!--I swing above the billows! +Dare you swing above the billows-- +Swing like me above the billows?" + +To herself said Sea-Gull--"Surely +I will dare whatever danger +Dares the Red Fox--dares my rival; +She shall never call me coward." +So she swung above the waters-- +Dizzy height above the waters, +Pushed and aided by her rival, +To and fro with reckless daring, +Till the strong tree rocked and trembled, +Rocked and trembled with its burden. +As above the yawning billows +Flew the Sea-Gull like a whirlwind, +Red Fox, swifter than red lightning, +Cut the thongs, and headlong downward, +Like an osprey from the ether, +Like a wild-goose pierced with arrows, +Fluttering fell the frantic woman, +Fluttering fell into the waters-- +Plunged and sunk beneath the waters! +Hark!--the wailing of the West-wind! +Hark!--the wailing of the waters, +And the beating of the billows! +But no more the voice of Sea-Gull. + +In the wigwam sat the Red Fox, +Hushed the wail of Waub-omee-mee, +Weeping for her absent mother. +With the twinkling stars the hunter +From the forest came and Raven. +"Sea-Gull wanders late," said Red Fox, +"Late she wanders by the sea-shore, +And some evil may befall her." +In the misty morning twilight +Forth went Panther and the Raven, +Searched the forest and the marshes, +Searched for leagues along the lake-shore, +But they found no trace or tidings, +Found no track in marsh or meadow, +Found no trail in fen or forest, +On the shore-sand found no footprints. +Many days they sought and found not. +Then to Panther spoke the Raven: +"She is in the Land of Spirits-- +Surely in the Land of Spirits. +High at midnight I beheld her-- +Like a flying star beheld her-- +To the waves of Gitchee Gumee +Downward flashing through the ether +Thus she flashed that I might see her, +See and know my mother's spirit; +Thus she pointed to the waters, +And beneath them lies her body, +In the wigwam of the spirits-- +In the lodge of Nebe-naw-baigs."[41] + +Then spoke Panther to the Raven: +"On the tall cliff by the waters +Wait and watch with Waub-omee-mee. +If the Sea-Gull hear the wailing +Of her infant she will answer." + +On the tall cliff by the waters +So the Raven watched and waited; +All the day he watched and waited, +But the hungry infant slumbered, +Slumbered by the side of Raven, +Till the pines' gigantic shadows +Stretched and pointed to Waubu-nong[38]-- +To the far-off land of Sunrise; +Then the wee one woke and, famished, +Made a long and piteous wailing. + +From afar where sky and waters +Meet in misty haze and mingle, +Straight toward the rocky highland, +Straight as flies the feathered arrow, +Straight to Raven and the infant, +Swiftly flew a snow-white sea-gull-- +Flew and touched the earth a woman. +And behold, the long-lost mother +Caught her wailing child and nursed her. + +Thrice was wound a chain of silver +Round her waist and strongly fastened. +Far away into the waters-- +To the wigwam of the spirits-- +To the lodge of Nebe-naw-baigs-- +Stretched the magic chain of silver. +Spoke the mother to the Raven: +"O my son--my brave young hunter, +Feed my tender little orphan; +Be a father to my orphan; +Be a mother to my orphan-- +For the crafty Red Fox robbed us-- +Robbed the Sea-Gull of her husband, +Robbed the infant of her mother. +From this cliff the treacherous woman +Headlong into Gitchee Gumee +Plunged the mother of my orphan. +Then a Nebe-naw-baig caught me-- +Chief of all the Nebe-naw-baigs-- +Took me to his shining wigwam, +In the cavern of the waters, +Deep beneath the mighty waters. +All below is burnished copper, +All above is burnished silver +Gemmed with amethyst and agates. +As his wife the Spirit holds me; +By this silver chain he holds me. + +"When my little one is famished, +When with long and piteous wailing +Cries the orphan for her mother, +Hither bring her, O my Raven; +I will hear her--I will answer. +Now the Nebe-naw-baig calls me-- +Pulls the chain--I must obey him." +Thus she spoke, and in the twinkling +Of a star the spirit-woman +Changed into a snow-white sea-gull, +Spread her wings and o'er the waters +Swiftly flew and swiftly vanished. + +Then in secret to the Panther +Raven told his tale of wonder. +Sad and sullen was the hunter; +Sorrow gnawed his heart like hunger; +All the old love came upon him, +And the new love was a hatred. +Hateful to his heart was Red Fox, +But he kept from her the secret-- +Kept his knowledge of the murder. +Vain was she and very haughty-- +Oge-ma-kwa[42] of the wigwam. +All in vain her fond caresses +On the Panther now she lavished; +When she smiled his face was sullen, +When she laughed he frowned upon her; +In her net of raven tresses +Now no more she held him tangled. +Now through all her fair disguises +Panther saw an evil spirit, +Saw the false heart of the woman. + +On the tall cliff o'er the waters +Raven sat with Waub-omee-mee, +Sat and watched again and waited, +Till the wee one, faint and famished, +Made a long and piteous wailing. +Then again the snow-white Sea-Gull, +From afar where sky and waters +Meet in misty haze and mingle, +Straight toward the rocky highland, +Straight as flies the feathered arrow, +Straight to Raven and the infant, +With the silver chain around her, +Flew and touched the earth a woman. + +In her arms she caught her infant-- +Caught the wailing Waub-omee-mee, +Sang a lullaby and nursed her. +Sprang the Panther from the thicket-- +Sprang and broke the chain of silver! +With his tomahawk he broke it. +Thus he freed the willing Sea-Gull-- +From the Water-Spirit freed her, +From the Chief of Nebe-naw-baigs. + +Very angry was the Spirit; +When he drew the chain of silver, +Drew and found that it was broken, +Found that he had lost the woman, +Very angry was the Spirit. +Then he raged beneath the waters, +Raged and smote the mighty waters, +Till the big sea boiled and bubbled, +Till the white-haired, bounding billows +Roared around the rocky headlands, +Rolled and roared upon the shingle. + +To the wigwam happy Panther, +As when first he wooed and won her +Led his wife--as young and handsome. +For the waves of Gitchee Gumee +Washed away the frost and wrinkles, +And the spirits by their magic +Made her young and fair forever. + +In the wigwam sat the Red Fox +Sat and sang a song of triumph, +For she little dreamed of danger, +Till the haughty hunter entered, +Followed by the happy mother, +Holding in her arms her infant. + +When the Red Fox saw the Sea-Gull-- +Saw the dead a living woman, +One wild cry she gave despairing, +One wild cry as of a demon. +Up she sprang and from the wigwam +To the tall cliff flew in terror; +Frantic sprang upon the margin, +Frantic plunged into the waters, +Headlong plunged into the waters. + +Dead she tossed upon the billows; +For the Nebe-naw-baigs knew her, +Knew the crafty, wicked woman, +And they cast her from the waters, +Spurned her from their shining wigwams; +Far away upon the shingle +With the roaring waves they cast her. +There upon her bloated body +Fed the cawing crows and ravens, +Fed the hungry wolves and foxes. + +On the shore of Gitchee Gumee, +Ever young and ever handsome, +Long and happy lived the Sea-Gull, +Long and happy with the Panther. +Evermore the happy hunter +Loved the mother of his children. +Like a red star many winters +Blazed their lodge-fire on the sea-shore. +O'er the Bridge of Souls[43] together +Walked the Sea-Gull and the Panther. +To the far-off Sunny Islands-- +To the Summer-Land of Spirits, +Sea-Gull journeyed with her husband-- +Where no more the happy hunter +Feels the fangs of frost or famine, +Or the keen blasts of Kewaydin, +Where no pain or sorrow enters, +And no crafty, wicked woman. +There she rules his lodge forever, +And the twain are very happy, +On the far-off Sunny Islands, +In the Summer-Land of Spirits. +On the rocks of Gitchee Gumee-- +On the Pictured Rocks--the legend +Long ago was traced and written, +Pictured by the Water-Spirits; +But the storms of many winters +Have bedimmed the pictured story, +So that none can read the legend +But the Jossakeeds,[44] the prophets. + + + + +Sweet Water. + +A LEGEND OF DAHKOTAH LAND. + + +Within the forest, by a crystal spring +Where I, a weary hunter, paused to fling +My form at length upon the velvet bank, +And from the cool, delicious water drank +A draught so comforting it well might seem +The fabled fount of Ponce de Leon's dream, +I met an aged half-breed, on whose cheek +The marks of seasons wild and winters bleak +Were softened by the warm light from the west-- +Sunset--the last day-beauty, and the best! +Beside the spring he sat and gazed and dreamed +In melancholy silence, till it seemed +His very soul was pouring from his eyes +And melting in that mirror, where the skies +Were glassed in all their purity, and where +No ripple reached the surface from the fair +White bosom of the palpitating sand,-- +A constant flowing breast o'er Nature's grand, +Tender, never weary heart! 'Twas life +Of her life which I quaffed; 'twas sweet, and rife +With flavor from foundations of her hills: + +'Twas strong with her strength; throbbing with her thrills; +Enriched with her untainted blood; a part +Of that divinity which rules my heart! +Thus when at last I drew my lips away, +And in the quiet of the closing day +Gave voice to my delight, the old man turned +To meet my glance. His deep eyes lit and burned +With growing brightness, and he softly said: +"This spring is sacred for the holy dead; +The spirit of Sweet Water lingers here; +The powers of mystery and reverent fear +And lovely death brood o'er this sleeping wave-- +A monument for one who had no grave." +Forthwith he poured into my willing ear +A tale so wondrous I must tell it here: + +One morning in the strawberry moon, +Her heart with Nature's heart in tune +A maid went forth to meet the sun. +That wonderous alchemist of day +With mystic pigments had begun +To tint the dark with twilight gray; +On mystic fans the breezy hills +Bestirred the air with perfumed thrills, +And mystic voices tried to tell +What dewy benedictions fell +Through all the silent hours of night. +The bend of eastern sky grew light +With mystic rays of silver-green, +Soon vanished in a violet sheen; +And this fair, mystic phantom flew +Before a potent golden hue. +The maiden idly wandered over +Banks of moss and beds of clover, +Pausing as she strolled along +To hear the sweetest wildwood song, +Or watch the butterfly whose flight +From meadow bloom to forest flower +Enticed her pleasure-searching sight +With Nature's happiest power. +She passed along a forest trail +'Neath trees that thrilled with morning life; +Above the song-birds' concert strife +She heard the blithesome call of quail, +The scornful cry of blue-jay dressed +In splendid robes, with lordly crest. +'Twas joy to see, 'twas joy to hear, +'Twas joy to wander without fear. +O lightsome heart! O peaceful breast! +Where yet no passion brought unrest! +Gayly she tripped, unconscious all +That any danger might befall. +But suddenly the song-birds fled +From all the branches overhead. +Then on her startled hearing rang +The sharp and vengeful bow-string's twang +A whizz--a yell--a writhing mass +Fell on the path she thought to pass-- +A tawny panther from whose side +An arrow drained the living tide. +With shrinking eyes she saw the beast +Rolling in agony, until +At last the sensate struggles ceased, +And all that mighty frame was still. +While she was wondering whose keen sight + +[Illustration] + +So well had sped the arrow's flight, +A tall young brave stepped from the wood +And silently before her stood. +He gazed enraptured on her face, +Her womanly charms, her youthful grace; +And when he spoke, it was to tell +The flattering things that win so well. +She saw that he was one who fought +Against her father's tribe, but naught +Availed that knowledge for defense +Against his passionate eloquence, +And ere they parted on that morn +Within her breast young Love was born. +They met again, and many times, +As young hearts have in many climes. +At last, upon a starry night, +Unable longer to resist, +She gave up all and took her flight +And went with him where he might list. +While they had lingered in their love, +The stars had swiftly marched above-- +And thus it chanced that on their way +They met the heralds of the day. +Her lover led through forests dim, +He brought her to the river bank; +His light canoe, all tight and trim, +He drew from grasses tall and rank. +They pushed away; no time was lost, +And soon the placid stream was crossed. +Again they plunged among the trees. +Although no doubt had power to seize +Upon the maiden's heart, she feared +And wondered that her brave appeared +To lose his wonted care; she knew +'Twas strange to leave their tried canoe, +But went, unquestioning, and thought +His deeds would bring her fears to naught. +To her astonishment, he led +Her from the forest's sheltering spread +Into a small and star-lit glade, +And, turning to her, softly bade +Her fear not, for a warlike band +Encompassed them on every hand. +They were her lover's friends in arms, +The war paint on their faces filled +Her faithful breast with wild alarms, +For she herself would fain be killed +A thousand times than that her flight +Should lead her own to death that night. +She clasped his arm with trembling hand, +And lifted to his bold black eyes +A look he could but ill withstand-- +Love's first reproach, doubt's first surmise. +From cold, white lips her question broke: +"Why do we thus these warriors meet +So near the lodges of my folk? +Why do you thus their presence greet?" +Before his tongue could make reply, +A burly warrior, standing by, +Strode forward, and, with murderous look, +His tomahawk before her shook, +And fiercely said: "I am Two Bear; +Great chief am I! 'Tis sweet to tear +The craven hearts and drink the blood +Of Two Bear's foes; a big red flood +Shall flow from coward Sioux, this morn +Their scalps Ojibway spears adorn. +Why have you kept us waiting here? +Behold, the sun will soon appear, +The hour is late, the good time flies, +And vengeance still unsated cries! +Come," growled the brute, and clutched her wrist, +And gave it rough and cruel twist; +"Come, lead us now, with noiseless creep, +To where thy Sioux dogs lie in sleep." +Like thunderbolt from storm-filled air, +The young brave sprang upon Two Bear; +With mighty grasp he whirled him 'round +And threw him fiercely to the ground. +"Dog thou," he cried; "and darest thou pain +This beauty with thy paws again +I'll kill thee, ponderous as thou art!" +Black with the fury in his heart, +The bully rose, and toward the young +And fearless champion wildly flung +His tomahawk, which, lightly dodged, +Swung through the hissing air and lodged +Deep in the nearest cottonwood. +Brief were the moments while they stood +And glared into each other's eyes. +Then forward leaped, with fearful cries, +And joined in combat, hand to hand. +With whirlwind sweep their knives outflashed, +And lightning followed when they clashed. +The maiden stood in dumb surprise, +All heedless of the warrior band; +Too anxious for her lover's fate +To think upon his present state, +Or care what stir she might create. +Sternly the conflict raged. At length, +Although he fought with giant strength, +The youthful brave was overpowered. +He fell; a crushing knee was pressed +Upon his form, his foeman towered +A moment o'er him, then his breast +Received the cruel, plunging knife. +The crimson flood gushed forth; a thrill +Of anguish swept his features o'er; +The light departed; mortal strife +Would stir the living pulse no more +Within that ghastly form so still! +Her lover's awful death awoke +The maiden from her flight-born trance. +She flashed around one fearful glance-- +The peril of her people broke +Upon her mind; she must be brave, +For she alone could hope to save. +She saw with horror and alarm +Two Bear approach herself to claim +As prize for his victorious arm; +His wicked face was all aflame. +'Twas worse than death for her to stay, +And she must warn those far away. +No time was her's for useless grief. +She turned, and like a storm-chased leaf, +Fled swiftly toward the river bank. +Alas! A dozen leaps were all. +The murderous tomahawk was thrown +And cleft her brain. With one low moan, +Upon her green death-bed she sank. +But simultaneous with her fall +A wild Dahkotah war-whoop rang +From out the forest, and a wall +Of warriors rose on every hand. +With common stroke their bow-strings' twang +Sounded death to that fated band. +The avengers closed upon their foe, +And ere they ceased the conflict wild, +Laid every feathered top-knot low; +In heaps Ojibway braves were piled. +When all the last red scalps were torn +They turned to find the murdered maid. +All in her tribe would rise and mourn +When dead before them she was laid. +But strange event! With wondering tone, +Each asked of each where she had flown. +In vain they searched. They found her not; +But there, upon the very spot +Where she had fallen, a fountain gushed +Which never man had seen before. +They gathered round with breathing hushed +And gazed, and wondered more and more. +While every grass-blade growing near +Was red and matted thick with gore, +The overflow was sweet and clear; +The bosom of the bubbling spring +Was spotless as a spirit's wing. +With single voice they all proclaimed +The magic spot a sacred place. +The vanished girl was thenceforth named +"Sweet Water," and to see her face +Dahkotah hearts will journey here +Till from the earth they disappear; +And when they die, their souls shall know +The secret of its crystal flow. + +[Illustration: ROCK GATEWAY, LAKE PEPIN.] + + + + +Death of Winona. + + +Down the broad _Ha-Ha Wak-pa_[45] the band took their way to the Games + at _Keoza_, +While the swift-footed hunters by land ran the shores for the elk and + the bison. +Like _magas_[46] ride the birchen canoes on the breast of the dark, + winding river, +By the willow-fringed island they cruise, by the grassy hills green to + their summits; +By the lofty bluffs hooded with oaks that darken the deep with their + shadows; +And bright in the sun gleam the strokes of the oars in the hands of + the women. +With the band went Winona. The oar plied the maid with the skill of a + hunter. +They tarried a time on the shore of _Remnica_--the Lake of the + Mountains.[47] +There the fleet hunters followed the deer, and the thorny _pahin_ for + the women. +From the _tees_ rose the smoke of good cheer, curling blue through the + tops of the maples, +Near the foot of a cliff that arose, like the battle-scarred walls of + a castle, +Up-towering, in rugged repose, to a dizzy height over the waters. +But the man-wolf still followed his prey, and the step-mother ruled in + the _teepee_; +Her will must Winona obey, by the custom and law of Dakotas. +The gifts to the _teepee_ were brought--the blankets and beads of the + White men, +And Winona, the orphaned, was bought by the crafty, relentless Tamdoka. +In the Spring-time of life, in the flush of the gladsome mid-May days + of Summer, +When the bobolink sang and the thrush, and the red robin chirped in + the branches, +To the tent of the brave must she go; she must kindle the fire in his + _teepee_; +She must sit in the lodge of her foe, as a slave at the feet of her + master. +Alas for her waiting! the wings of the East-wind have brought her no + tidings; +On the meadow the meadow-lark sings, but sad is her song to Winona, +For the glad warbler's melody brings but the memory of voices departed. +The Day-Spirit walked in the west to his lodge in the land of the shadows; +His shining face gleamed on the crest of the oak-hooded hills and the + mountains, +And the meadow-lark hied to her nest, and the mottled owl peeped from + her cover. +But hark! from the _teepees_ a cry! Hear the shouts of the hurrying + warriors! +Are the feet of the enemy nigh,--of the crafty and cruel Ojibways? +Nay; look!--on the dizzy cliff high--on the brink of the cliff stands + Winona! +Her sad face up-turned to the sky. Hark! I hear the wild wail of her + death-song: + +"My Father's Spirit, look down, look down-- +From your hunting grounds in the shining skies; +Behold, for the light of my heart is gone; +The light is gone and Winona dies. + +"I looked to the East, but I saw no star; +The face of my White Chief was turned away. +I harked for his footsteps in vain; afar +His bark sailed over the Sunrise-sea. + +"Long have I watched till my heart is cold; +In my breast it is heavy and cold as a stone. +No more shall Winona his face behold, +And the robin that sang in her heart is gone. + +"Shall I sit at the feet of the treacherous brave? +On his hateful couch shall Winona lie? +Shall she kindle his fire like a coward slave? +No!--a warrior's daughter can bravely die. + +"My Father's Spirit, look down, look down-- +From your hunting-grounds in the shining skies; +Behold, for the light in my heart is gone; +The light is gone and Winona dies." + +Swift the strong hunters climbed as she sang, and the foremost of all + was Tamdoka; +From crag to crag upward he sprang; like a panther he leaped to the + summit. +Too late!--on the brave as he crept turned the maid in her scorn and + defiance; +Then swift from the dizzy height leaped. Like a brant arrow-pierced in + mid-heaven, +Down whirling and fluttering she fell, and headlong plunged into the + waters. +Forever she sank mid the wail, and the wild lamentation of women. +Her lone spirit evermore dwells in the depths of the Lake of the + Mountains, +And the lofty cliff evermore tells to the years as they pass her sad + story.[48] + +In the silence of sorrow the night o'er the earth spread her wide, + sable pinions; +And the stars hid their faces; and light on the lake fell the tears of + the spirits. +As her sad sisters watched on the shore for her spirit to rise from + the waters, +They heard the swift dip of an oar, and a boat they beheld like a shadow, +Gliding down through the night in the gray, gloaming mists on the face + of the waters. +'Twas the bark of DuLuth on his way from the Falls to the Games at + _Keoza_. + + + + +The Legend of the Moccasin Flower. + + +Minneopa was a maiden + Fleet of foot and fond of sport, +She, her mother's only daughter, + Cared not for the harsh report +That she left the woman's labor + To her only parent, while +With the hunt and ramble busied, + Oft she wandered many a mile. + +Scarce her cousins could excel her + In the bending of the bow, +Though they were so tall and manly, + With them hunting she would go. +She had shot the timid rabbit, + With her arrows swift and keen, +Now she wished to slay the red-deer + As the hunters she had seen. + +Beautiful she was, and graceful, + Like the young fawn she pursued, +Gayly decked with beads and wampum, + For her mother fond endured +With great worth this only daughter; + As her sire a chief had been, +E'en the boyish pranks and pastime + For her no reproof could win. + +Tiny moccasins, so dainty, + Well her little feet encased, +And her long braids streamed behind her + As down woodland paths she raced. +"I will go alone and find them, + Then the red-deer I will kill." +So she went, for all she minded + Was her own caprice and will. + +Warm and smoky Indian summer + Lent the earth a russet glow, +And the hazel nuts dropped softly + 'Mong the rustling leaves below. +Far she wandered, but no creature + Caught her ear or crossed her path, +Save the blue-jay in the treetop + Screaming oft in seeming wrath. + +Suddenly she heard a roaring, + Crackling sound. In sickening dread +Looked and saw the forest burning + With a lurid flame and red. +Fast she flew; the flames spread faster, + Caught her in their fierce embrace; +Minneopa, never, never, + Will you now the wild deer chase. + +Ashes gray and failing cinders + Made for her a lonely grave. +But with springtime came the verdure, + And the kindly grasses waved; +Peeping up came gorgeous blossoms, + Never seen on earth before, +Shaped and colored like the moccasins + That the Indian maiden wore. + +Some there were of heavenly coloring, + Such as clouds at sunset wear, +White and rosy; they were emblems + Of the new ones waiting where +In the spirit land she wanders + With her father strong and brave; +And the mother, when she saw them, + Knew they marked her daughter's grave. + + IDA SEXTON SEARLS. + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + + + + +NOTES. + + +WINONA. + +[Footnote 1: The name given by the Dakotas to the first-born, if a +female.] + +[Footnote 2: Tipi, skin tent.] + +[Footnote 3: An edible root found on the prairies.] + +[Footnote 4: The Crow Indians, hereditary foes of the Dakotas, call +themselves Absaraka, which means crow in their language.] + +[Footnote 5: Each Indian guest at a banquet carries with him his own +wooden bowl and spoon.] + +[Footnote 6: Many Indians believe in the transmigration of souls, and +some of them profess to remember previous states of existence.] + +[Footnote 7: A renowned chief, formerly living on Lake Pepin.] + +[Footnote 8: A supernatural monster inhabiting the larger rivers and +lakes, and hereditary foe of the Thunder Bird.] + +[Footnote 9: The Falls of St. Anthony.] + +[Footnote 10: The name given to a first-born, if a male. Upon becoming +a warrior or performing some feat of arms, the youth is permitted to +select another name.] + +[Footnote 11: Hereditary foe of the Dakotas.] + +[Footnote 12: The Dakotas formerly disposed of their dead by fastening +them to the branches of trees or to rude platforms. This is still +practiced to some extent.] + +[Footnote 13: The Indians paint and adorn a body before sepulture.] + + +HIAWATHA. + +[Footnote 14: "On the mountains of the prairie." (Mt. Catlin, etc.) +Located near the boundary between Minnesota and Dakota, near the head +waters of the Mississippi.] + +[Footnote 15: This quarry, located near the hills or mountains, was +very famous among the Indians, who by common consent had made the +adjacent territory neutral ground. Here they came and provided +themselves with pipes, very necessary to the Indian's happiness. To +apply the stone to any other use than that of pipe-making would have +been sacrilege in the native's mind. From similarity in color, they +even fancied it to have been made, at the great deluge, from the flesh +of the perishing Indian.] + +[Footnote 16: In Northern Pennsylvania, on the Susquehanna River, the +scene of a terrible massacre by the Indians and Tories in 1778. +Campbell wrote _Gertrude of Wyoming_ on the incidents of that July +5th.] + +[Footnote 17: A section of Alabama, taking its name from the chief +defeated by De Soto in 1540.] + +"The Falls of Minnehaha." (The Scenery about Fort Snelling, etc.) + + +THE DESCENDING STAR. + +This legend is related by Kah-ge-ga-gah-bawh, chief of the Ojibway +Nation, or Chippewas, in his "Traditional History of the Ojibway +Nation" purporting to be the first volume of Indian history written by +an Indian. In common with his forest brethren, he "was brought up in +the woods." Twenty months passed in a school in Illinois constituted +the sum-total of his schooling. But he had learned the traditions of +his people, as was customary, from the lips of the chief, his father. + +Through the stilted language of this somewhat unlettered Indian we +catch faint glimpses of the poetic beauty with which the tradition +glowed when actually related at the wigwam door. An attempt has been +made to retain and crystallize this poetic beauty in the preceding +metrical version of the Indian legend. + + +THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. + +A new version of the beautiful and popular legend of the first spring +flower, making the visitant to the old man's lodge a maiden, and +identifying the blossom as the trailing arbutus, was told by Hon. C. +L. Belknap of Michigan before the Folk-Lore Society in Washington, +Dec., 1891. + + +THE SEA-GULL. + +[Footnote 18: _Kay-oshk_ is the Ojibway name for the sea-gull.] + +[Footnote 19: _Gitchee_--great,--_Gumee_--sea or lake,--Lake Superior +also often called Ochipwe Gitchee Gumee, Great Lake (or sea) of the +Ojibways.] + +[Footnote 20: _Ne-me-Shomis_--my grandfather. "In the days of my +grandfather" is the Ojibway's preface to all his traditions and +legends.] + +[Footnote 21: _Waub_--white--_O-jeeg_--fisher (a furred animal). White +Fisher was the name of a noted Ojibway chief who lived on the south +shore of Lake Superior many years ago. Schoolcraft married one of his +descendants.] + +[Footnote 22: _Ma-kwa_ or _mush-kwa_--the bear.] + +[Footnote 23: The _Te-ke-nah-gun_ is a board upon one side of which a +sort of basket is fastened or woven with thongs of skin or strips of +cloth. In this the babe is placed and the mother carries it on her +back. In the wigwam the _tekenagun_ is often suspended by a cord to +the lodge-poles and the mother swings her babe in it.] + +[Footnote 24: _Wabose_ (or _Wabos_)--the rabbit. _Penay_, the +pheasant. At certain seasons the pheasant drums with his wings.] + +[Footnote 25: _Kaug_, the porcupine. _Kenew_, the war-eagle.] + +[Footnote 26: _Ka-be-bon-ik-ka_ is the god of storms, thunder, +lightning, etc. His home is on Thunder-Cap at Thunder-Bay, Lake +Superior. By his magic the giant that lies on the mountain was turned +to stone. He always sends warnings before he finally sends the severe +cold of winter, in order to give all creatures time to prepare for +it.] + +[Footnote 27: _Kewaydin_, or _Kewaytin_, is the North wind or +Northwest wind.] + +[Footnote 28: _Algonkin_ is the general name applied to all tribes +that speak the Ojibway language or dialects of it.] + +[Footnote 29: This is the favorite "love-broth" of the Ojibway squaws. +The warrior who drinks it immediately falls desperately in love with +the woman who gives it to him. Various tricks are devised to conceal +the nature of the "medicine" and to induce the warrior to drink it; +but when it is mixed with a liberal quantity of "fire-water" it is +considered irresistible.] + +[Footnote 30: + +Translation: Woe-is-me! Woe-is-me! + Great Spirit, behold me! + Look, Father; have pity upon me! + Woe-is-me! Woe-is-me! + +] + +[Footnote 31: Snow-storms from the Northwest.] + +[Footnote 32: The Ojibways, like the Dakotas, call the Via Lactea +(Milky Way) the Pathway of the Spirits.] + +[Footnote 33: Shinge-bis, the diver, is the only water-fowl that +remains about Lake Superior all winter.] + +[Footnote 34: Waub-ese--the white swan.] + +[Footnote 35: _Pe-boan_, Winter, is represented as an old man with +long white hair and beard.] + +[Footnote 36: _Segun_ is Spring (or Summer). This beautiful allegory +has been "done into verse" by Longfellow in _Hiawatha_. Longfellow +evidently took his version from Schoolcraft. I took mine originally +from the lips of _Pah-go-nay-gie-shiek_--"Hole-in-the-day,"--(the +elder), in his day head-chief of the Ojibways. I afterward submitted +it to _Gitche Shabash-Konk_, head-chief of the _Misse-sah-ga-e-gun_ +--(Mille Lac's band of Ojibways), who pronounced it correct. + +"Hole-in-the-day," although sanctioned by years of unchallenged use, +is a bad translation of _Pah-go-nay-gie-shiek_, which means a _clear +spot in the sky_. + +He was a very intelligent man; had been in Washington several times on +business connected with his people, and was always shrewd enough to +look out for himself in all his treaties and transactions with the +Government. He stood six feet two inches in his moccasins, was +well-proportioned, and had a remarkably fine face. He had a nickname-- +_Que-we-zanc_ (Little Boy)--by which he was familiarly called by his +people. + +The Pillagers--_Nah-kand-tway-we-nin-ni-wak_--who live about Leech +Lake (_Kah-sah-gah-squah-g-me-cock_) were opposed to +_Pa-go-nay-gie-shiek_, but he compelled them through fear to recognize +him as Head-Chief. At the time of the "Sioux outbreak" in 1862 +"Hole-in-the-day" for a time apparently meditated an alliance with the +Po-ah-nuck (Dakotas) and war upon the whites. The Pillagers and some +other bands urged him strongly to this course, and his supremacy as +head-chief was threatened unless he complied. Messengers from the +Dakotas were undoubtedly received by him, and he, for a time at least, +led the Dakotas to believe that their hereditary enemies, the +Ojibways, would bury the hatchet and join them in a war of +extermination against the whites. "Hole-in-the-day," with a band of +his warriors, appeared opposite Fort Ripley (situated on the west bank +of the Mississippi River between Little Falls and Crow Wing), and +assumed a threatening attitude toward the fort, then garrisoned by +volunteer troops. The soldiers were drawn up on the right bank and +"Hole-in-the-day" and his warriors on the left. A little speech-making +settled the matter for the time being and very soon thereafter a new +treaty was made with "Hole-in-the-day" and his head men, by which +their friendship and allegiance were secured to the whites. It was +claimed by the Pillagers that "Hole-in-the-day" seized the occasion to +profit personally in his negotiations with the agents of the +Government. + +In 1867 "Hole-in-the-day" took "another wife." He married Helen +McCarty, a white woman, in Washington, D. C., and took her to his home +at Gull Lake (_Ka-ga-ya-skunc-cock_) literally, _plenty of little +gulls_. + +She bore him a son who is known as Joseph H. Woodbury, and now (1891) +resides in the city of Minneapolis. His marriage with a white woman +increased the hatred of the Pillagers, and they shot him from ambush +and killed him near _Ninge-ta-we-de-gua-yonk_--Crow Wing--on the 27th +day of June, 1868. + +At the time of his death, "Hole-in-the-day" was only thirty-seven +years old, but had been recognized as Head-Chief for a long time. He +could speak some English, and was far above the average of white men +in native shrewdness and intelligence. He was thoroughly posted in the +traditions and legends of his people. + +The Ojibways have for many years been cursed by contact with the worst +elements of the whites, and seem to have adopted the vices rather than +the virtues of civilization. I once spoke of this to +"Hole-in-the-day." His reply was terse and truthful--"_Madge +tche-mo-ko-mon, madge a-nische-nabe: menoge tche-mo-ko-mon, meno +a-nische-nabe._--Bad white men, bad Indians: good white men, good +Indians."] + +[Footnote 37: _Nah_--look, see. _Nashke_--behold.] + +[Footnote 38: _Kee-zis_--the sun,--the father of life. _Waubunong_--or +_Waub-o-nong_--is the White Land or Land of Light,--the Sunrise, the +East.] + +[Footnote 39: The Bridge of Stars spans the vast sea of the skies, and +the sun and moon walk over on it.] + +[Footnote 40: The _Miscodeed_ is a small white flower with a pink +border. It is the earliest blooming wild flower on the shores of Lake +Superior, and belongs to the crocus family.] + +[Footnote 41: The _Ne-be-naw-baigs_, are Water-spirits; they dwell in +caverns in the depths of the lake, and in some respects resemble the +_Unktehee_ of the Dakotas.] + +[Footnote 42: _Ogema_, Chief,--_Oge-ma-kwa_--female Chief. Among the +Algonkin tribes women are sometimes made chiefs. _Net-no-kwa_, who +adopted Tanner as her son, was _Oge-ma-kwa_ of a band of Ottawas. See +_John Tanner's Narrative_, p. 36.] + +[Footnote 43: The "Bridge of Souls" leads from the earth over dark and +stormy waters to the spirit-land. The "Dark River" seems to have been +a part of the superstitions of all nations.] + +[Footnote 44: The _Jossakeeds_ of the Ojibways are soothsayers who are +able, by the aid of spirits, to read the past as well as the future.] + + +DEATH OF WINONA. + +Mr. Gordon has taken for his theme the love of the beautiful maiden +Winona for Du Luth the explorer. He leaves her to continue his +travels, and she, driven to desperation at the thought of marriage +with Tauedoka, whom she loathes, takes her life. + +[Footnote 45: The Dakota name for the Mississippi.] + +[Footnote 46: Wild geese.] + +[Footnote 47: Lake Pepin: by Hennepin called the Lake of +Tears.--Called by the Dakotas Pem-uee-chah-mday--Lake of the +Mountain.] + +[Footnote 48: The rock from which Winona leaped was formerly +perpendicular to the water's edge and she leaped into the lake. The +rock to-day is crumbled and the waters have receded to some distance +from the rock. Winona's spirit is said to still haunt the lake.] + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Original variations in spelling, grammar, punctuation, diacritical +marks, and hyphenation have been retained, except for the following +changes: + +Page 5: CONTENTS: Changed some titles slightly to match the poem +titles. + +Page 48: relf-reliant changed to self-reliant + (Fearless and relf-reliant, she could go) + +Page 91: Period changed to comma after warriors + (Ah, no more such noble warriors. + Could be found on earth as they were!) + +Page 130: Illustration caption changed from LIMPED to LIMPID + ("... AND ALIGHTED SOON ON THE WATERS' LIMPED BREAST.") + +Page 149: whie changed to white + (Like the whie down of Waubese) + +Page 171: No footnote reference for pahin, so footnote anchor removed. + (There the fleet hunters followed the deer, and the thorny _pahin_ + for the women.) + +Pages 179-184: Notes renumbered sequentially. + +Page 182: "Hold-in-the-day" changed to "Hole-in-the-day" + ("Sioux outbreak" in 1862 "Hold-in-the-day" for a time) + +Page 184: WINONA changed to DEATH OF WINONA to match poem title. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Legends of Minnesota, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN LEGENDS OF MINNESOTA *** + +***** This file should be named 25794.txt or 25794.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/7/9/25794/ + +Produced by K. 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